The Story of Us

THE STORY OF US BY: Julien

This story is 100% fictional and is by no means depictive of the life of any person, place or thing. It contains sexual activities between males and should only be read if it is legal to do so in your area. Read at your own risk and enjoy. Comments are welcomed and would be very much appreciated. ENJOY!

I would like to thank my editor Frank for doing such a great job on editing - thanks a lot man...

Chapter 32

I awoke with the distinct feeling of numbness in some areas and pain in others. It was as if all my thoughts had begun processing what my body was feeling all at once. I cried out in pain and was greeted with some sort of intrusion into my body, probably a syringe.

"Mr. Knight, it's good of you to join us again. You gave us quite a scare there."

I looked to the direction of the voice and was able to make out the form of a man in a white lab coat.

"I know by now you're probably feeling some discomfort in your body and that's quite normal for the injuries you've sustained and I promise that I'll give you something for it soon but right now, my top concern is to keep your blood pressure stabilized."

I wanted to respond but all that I managed to get out was a strangled gasp for water.

"Of course you're thirsty, Mr. Knight. For the past few days you've been feeding through an IV tube."

He walked over to a table at the far end of the room and poured the contents of the plastic jug into a cup. He walked over to me and held the glass to my lips. The first drops of liquid seemed to incite a hunger in me that made me become like a madman, suddenly gripping the cup with both hands and tilting it to my lips, succeeding in forcing more water to dribble down my chin and unto my chest rather than in my mouth.

"Let's elevate this a bit shall we."

And with that, he pressed a switch that enabled my bed to elevate to a sitting position. I was grateful for the change in position and was able to quickly finish my glass and ask for another.

"Good. It's good that you're thirsty. If you keep this up, we'll probably have you try eating some solid food for dinner tonight. Maybe some mashed potatoes and gravy."

"Or some steak and bakes." I chimed in.

The doctor smiled and responded with a, "Steak and bakes it is, though we'll probably have someone in here to monitor that you only eat small pieces."

"Whatever you have to do as long as I get to eat soon, I'm starving." I stated, my throat beginning to tighten up and become scratchy.

"Water?" The doctor asked, already walking away from me to get it.

It seemed that only a moment passed before I realized that I had to take a leak and my reflexes took over. I attempted to move my legs to get up off the bed but came to realize that I couldn't even feel them. My eyes turned to him for an explanation.

"What's wrong with my legs? I can't feel them, I can't move them..." my words trailed off as I waited for the doctors' words of comfort that this was only a temporary problem, something that time and medication could fix, but silence was all that greeted me.

"Doc?" I started to say but was cut off by the opening of the door. I looked past him and for a moment, the questions on my mind evaporated into thin air as I saw who had just entered my room.

"Oh my god...Bobby." His voice was low and hoarse, but I could hear the jubilation in it, and that made me all the more happy to see him. He stood over by the door, seemingly shocked into place by my miraculous awakening, but soon enough he got the courage to walk up to me and reach for my hand. I reached and pulled him down to me, connecting my lips to his. And despite what I knew was a case of bad breath on my part, I held the back of his head to mine and tried to make this last as long as possible. And if it wasn't for the doctor clearing his throat, I'm sure we would have kept on going and going and going.

I let go of his head and looked into his eyes. They didn't hold their usual pep that I knew them to have but told me of all the heartache he had gone through the length of time that I had been in the hospital.

"I missed you, baby," I muttered, pulling him to me once again, this time in an embrace.

"Me, too," he managed to utter back.

I never wanted our embrace to end, but the question that I had begun to pursue before his arrival found its way to the forefront of my mind once again.

I held unto Richie's hand as I asked the question to him again, and by the look of foreboding on his face, I had a feeling that I wouldn't like what I heard.

He cleared his throat and began speaking, "I think we should talk about this when you've gotten back a little bit of your strength..."

"I want to know what's wrong with me now, doc. I want to know what you know."

Again he tried to evade me, but after being in the dark for so long, I wasn't having it.

"I have a right to know what's wrong with me," I started, "and you'd better tell me." I could hear the irritation in my voice and tried to remind myself that it wasn't his fault I was in this position.

"Fine, but I have to advise you that our information is just preliminary. We're still running tests and we haven't concluded anything as of yet," he stated, looking from me to Richie.

When neither of us responded, he continued, "Fine. What we've found so far is that you've sustained a substantial loss of blood from a bullet piercing your kidney. You've also fractured your spine. We haven't determined this for certain as of yet but we think that the damaged done to your spine may be irreversible."

I heard his words but I didn't understand them, and I told him so.

"What I'm trying to tell you is that what your experiencing now, no feeling in your lower extremities, it may not be a temporary situation."

His words cut through me like a knife and I found myself unable to speak.

"You could be wrong though, couldn't you? It could only be a temporary situation, couldn't it? You don't know for an absolute fact that he may never walk again, do you?" Richie's words were imploring and it gave me a sense of pride knowing that he was here to lend support to both of us when I was unable to do it.

"No, I don't. We still have more tests to run and even if the tests conclude that Mr. Knight is in fact paralyzed, there may be a chance that all of this is reversible. I've seen similar cases before where patients have made reasonable recoveries."

"So you're saying there's still a chance then..." Richie continued.

"No, I'm saying that we still have more tests to run and when we find out what is what, we'll go from there. I don't want to get your hopes up, nor do I want to dash them, so I recommend we just wait and see."

It took all I could to hold my tongue and to urge Richie to do the same. I didn't want that to be the prognosis, and in my minds eye, it was better to wait for the test results before starting to worry about what would have to be done if... I didn't even want to think of that being a possibility, so I shut it out.

"I want to have time alone with Richie," I said, not looking in the doctor's direction.

"Sure, sure. I'll give you until 2:15, then he has to come back tomorrow. We've got to get you into observation and soon."

I looked up at the clock and saw that it was already 1:30, not leaving much time for us, but I planned to make the most out of it. As soon as he left the room, I did. I reached up and pulled Richie down to me once more and kissed him as if today was our last day together. He didn't resist me, instead, using the opportunity to feel me up.

"I love you so much, Bobby. I really do," he repeated, over and over again, as if his words had fallen on deaf ears.

"I know you do, baby, and I love you, too," I responded, holding unto him with the little strength that I had left. We embraced for what seemed like forever until my arms grew tired and I found that I needed to rest them by my side.

"Richie, hold up, hold up," I managed to get out.

"What, what's the matter, Bobby? Did I hurt you? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just need a break." With that, he pulled away from me, but not out of my reach. His hand found mine and gently held it. I had to admit that it felt damn good, damn familiar, something that I needed right now. I needed that feeling to help me to keep my mind off of the real issue. I knew I would eventually have to deal with it but now wasn't the right time. I don't know when would be the right time.

"So,... how are you... feeling?" The tone of his words told me that he was nervous, maybe even afraid to ask me any questions pertaining to what had happened. Why he would feel like that, I didn't know, but I was determined to put his mind at ease.

"Ah, could be better, but I'm cool. I ain't feeling that much pain either. Don't worry, Richie, things are gonna get better."

"You really think so?" he asked, worriedly.

"Yeah. It's gonna take some time but things are gonna be all right." That seemed to get him to relax a little as he gently gave my hand a little love tap and smiled my way. That smile lit up his whole face, and I couldn't help but pull his lips to mine. He seemed happy at my response as he pressed into me further and ran his hand over the back of my head. I was anxious to see how far he would go, but the opening of the hospital door caused him to quickly sit up and away from me. When he backed away, I looked to see what had cause the interruption, and was surprised at who I saw.

"I, um... I'll wait outside Bobby... " Richie said, making a move to walk away from me, but I held unto his hand and pulled him closer to me.

"No, you can stay right here, where you belong," I stated, holding on to him. I wasn't about to pretend like this wasn't happening. This was my life. "Dad, what are you doing here?" I asked, trying to stay calm. The sight of him right here, right now, did nothing but further aggravate me. He had no business being here.

"Well it's nice to see you too, Bobby. I done made the trip all the way up here and that's how you greet me. I'm so glad your ma ain't here to see this."

I didn't pay his words much mind and repeated my earlier question. I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"Why do you think? My son almost dies, I'm here to lend my support."

"Since when have you given a fuck what happens to me?"

"Since always."

"Bullshit! Just stop bullshitting me, man."

"What the hell is your problem? I done fly all the way up here to be with you and this is what I get..."

I cut him off right there, the rage apparent in my voice, "What you get! What you get! Fuck that! I don't need no favors from you, Mr. Knight. I never have and I never will." The look in his eye was enough to allow me momentary pleasure. He was slowly losing it and I wanted to do all I could to help him on his way.

"You think that you can come in here and pretend like you're a father after all this time? You think that I'm that stupid as to think you done changed face?" I waited for a response from him, but when I got none I continued with my tirade. I had wanted to get this outta my system for the longest time and now I had the chance.

"I know why you all of a sudden want to be a father to me, and I'm here to tell you that it ain't happening. There ain't no monetary funds in this for you. I ain't dead and you ain't gonna be claiming jack shit, so if you know what's good for you, you'll turn your ass around and head back down to Florida. I don't want you here and I don't need you here."

He looked from me to Richie and back to me again, his face holding a grimaced expression.

"You have some nerve, you know that? Talking to me like that. Disrespecting me and in front of him. I should come over there and whop your ass right now." His hostility set Richie off and he walked up to my father and asked him to leave.

"The fuck do you think you are? That's my son and I'm his father so I'll leave when I damn well feel like..." he started, and stopped.

Richie interrupted his little tirade and began speaking, "I'm his lover, that's who I am. I'm the one that will take care of him after YOU leave, so that gives me the right to tell you to leave. And if you don't want me to get security, you better get moving."

I had to smile at Richie's bravery, I always knew deep down that he had it in him, hidden behind that delicate exterior.

He looked to me as if I would defend him but I just repeated my previous request.

"You fucking ungrateful piece of shit. You done turned famous and forgot about where your ass came from. You forgot who supported you before you had all this shit. Me! That's who! I bred you and made all this shit possible. If it weren't for me you wouldn't even be here and..."

I had had enough of this tirade and I was too weak and too drained to deal with this shit right now so I let him have it, all the years I had to put up with his negativity about my passion and the emotional abuse that I had to suffer at his hands.

"And nothing! I owe you shit! I owe you nothing, and if you try and mess with what I got, I'll kill you! You ain't responsible for anything that happened to me. Nothing at all. I made all this happen, every little thing, and the only one I have to thank for it is me. You never once supported one fucking thing I ever did, so don't think that for one second you gonna pretend like you made shit happen, cause you didn't. And another thing, I have the best damn team of lawyers you ever done heard of, and if you even try to fuck with my money, I'll make sure you end up in a shelter somewhere or some back alley... dead. You got me?"

I had to take in air to catch my breath as I had said all of that in one swoop. His face registered anger, and for a moment I thought maybe he was gonna do something rash, like maybe pull out a gun and start shooting up the place, but instead, he walked out slamming the door behind him. Richie let out a sigh of relief and turned to face me.

"So that's him, huh?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. Now you know why I'm not close to my family. That piece of shit has been trying for years to keep me on tight leash. I hate him."

"I know," he whispered, coming back to my side and holding my hand in his. He seemed to understand how hard it had been for me to see him again after all these years. I hated the son of a bitch with a passion, but no matter what, he was still my blood, whether I like it or not, and nothing could change that fact.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, babe," I whispered, looking up at him.

Richie shrugged his shoulders and smiled down at me, "It's not your fault, Bobby. I'm glad I got the chance to see him. Now I finally have the chance to see what you had to grow up with, and it makes me love you all the more." With that, he leaned into me and our lips connected. It felt so right to be doing this, having him in my arms and being able to enjoy this moment so publicly that I couldn't even think that at one point in time, I was actually scared to admit that this was what I wanted -- what a crock -- this was all I wanted.

He released his lips from mine when we heard the door open again and then looked to see the doctor. I looked towards the clock and saw that it was almost two forty five, way past visiting hours. I looked at Richie and sighed. He leaned into me and kissed me on the lips one more time before telling me he loved me and that he would soon be back.

"If you want, you can wait in the lounge until after his observation. It could be an hour to a few hours, but that'll give you a chance to get something to eat and get some rest, and if you want, I can wake you up when he's done here." The doctor's word brought a smile to Richie's face, and I could see that he was on the verge of saying, yes, but I interjected,

"You should go home, baby, and come back tomorrow," I started.

"No... no, I want to be here when you finish up, Bobby. I don't want to leave your side for anything."

"No, you need your sleep. Look at you, you look as if you're about to have a case of narcolepsy."

"I can manage..." he started, but I interjected this time,

"No, I'll be ok. I just need a bit of alone time, ok, and some rest. I want to be refreshed and alert when I see you next, and I want you to go home and get some sleep."

Richie seemed as if he were poised to object, but one look from me had him agreeing.

"Fine, but I'll be back first thing tomorrow morning, ok."

"Ok," I replied, pulling him into me and hugging him tight.

"I love you," I whispered into his ear.

"I know," he whispered back, and turned his head to kiss my cheek. He released me, and stood up, his hands jammed into his pockets.

"Well, Mr. Knight, a technician will be down shortly to bring you up to an observation room."

"Ok," I responded with my eyes still fixed on Richie. He noticed my stare and walked back over to me and leaned down to kiss me one final time.

"I don't want to leave, but I'm gonna because you asked me to, but I'll be back," he whispered, and when he leaned away from me slightly, his eyes were filled with tears.

"Shh, don't cry, baby. You'll see me tomorrow, I promise," I whispered, trying to reassure him.

"I know," he managed to stutter out, as a steady stream of tears cascaded down his cheeks and unto my gown. I reached and pulled him into me once again, and kissed the side of his cheek for the longest time, until I heard the door open again, and looked over his shoulder to see the technician walk into the room pulling with him a portable gurney.

Richie pulled away reluctantly and leaned away from me. I tried to offer up a smile that would hopefully ease his mind, but all it seemed to do was cause more tears to fall. I was about to pull him into me, but sensing my move, he pulled away from me, and with a quick `see you later', he walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

"Well, are you ready, Mr. Knight?" asked the technician, seemingly oblivious of the turmoil that I was going through.

"Yeah," I managed to get out, "I'm ready." And with that, he, along with the doctor, helped me unto the gurney, and the technician rolled me out of the room.

MICHAEL

I had tried convincing myself that I was here not only to see him, but to catch up on things with old friends and such. When I had moved away to Connecticut, I had left behind a lot of acquaintances, most not even memorable, but, none the less, people I had known in my previous life: drunks, sex addicts, a few drug users, and more than my fair share of tricks. Not something that I was proud to admit, but that was a part of my life, one that I could never go back and change. Even though I hadn't thought about them much, I found myself using them as an excuse to drive down to New York so that I wouldn't have to face the real reason I was here, to see Adam. We had spoken last night on the phone, and he had spent most of the time telling me how much he appreciated my declaration of love for him, but that maybe I should take some time to think about what I was saying. Strange, I know, coming from a man that had always been upfront about his feelings for me, but it was what he had said, and I could somewhat understand his reluctance to take my words at face value, not when I had been so adamant about wanting to take things slow. But during that brief time between leaving the message and hearing his response, I had had enough time to realize that I meant what I had said, I did love Adam. And I guess behind my cover story lay the real truth to why I had taken time off to drive down here, risk falling back into my old habits, and possible risking a part of me I never knew existed, my heart. But whatever would happen would have to happen as I wasn't about to turn back around and chump out of this, no fucking way. As I pulled into the parking lot of his hospital, I took a deep breath. The urge to cross the street and to buy a pack of smokes was overwhelming, but to my knowledge, Adam didn't smoke and I didn't want him to see me after all this time and recall later on that the highlight of seeing me was my smokers' breath. I exited the car and walked through the automatic sliding door to the reception desk. The redhead in front of me in the white nurse's uniform looked up from her chart and spoke to me,

"How can I help you, sir?"

"Yeah, hi, um, is Dr. Adam Baruch here?" I asked, putting my hands in my pockets to keep them from shaking. She pulled out a silver binder and flipped through till she arrived at the right page.

"Yes, he's on call today, how may I help you?"

"Um, could you just let me know where I could find him?"

"Sir, he's very busy today. If you're a MEDICAID patient, then you can take a seat and I'll see if Dr. Schafer is accepting any unannounced patients."

"No, I'm a friend of his from Connecticut," I announced.

"Name?" she asked me, looking up. I was reluctant to give her my name and I knew that she wouldn't have just let me through so I decided to just tell her half the truth.

"Hey, Lisa," I said, reading her name tag, that was pinned high unto her ample chest, "I drove in from Connecticut to see Adam. He's an old college buddy of mine and I haven't seen him in like forever. He isn't expecting me, and I just want to surprise him, you know. So could you just show me his office, or something? Help a friend out." I gave her my most charming look, but all it seemed to accomplish was to get a laugh out of her.

"Listen, sweetheart. This is one of the biggest hospitals in New York City, and we have a staff of over 150 doctors, who possibly have over 150 college buddies a piece. It's against regulation for me to let you back unless you're a patient or family, and from what I've heard you're neither. So what you need to do is give me a name, and I'll give him a page." It was hard for me to get upset with her, especially when she was being so sweet, but the need to see him outweighed that fact.

"What the fuck difference does it make, Lisa, whether you page him or I go back there unannounced. The guy knows me for Gods' sake." My voice had risen a bit, and I turned to see a security officer turn my way. Lisa seemed to notice it too for she smiled at me tight lipped and spoke,

"You see that beefy stud muffin over there? That happens to be my husband, and if you don't step the hell away from my desk, I just might be inclined to call him over."

That was enough to put me in check as I bid her a less than pleasant farewell,, and walked out to my car. I figured this much, Adam would have to come out at some point in time for dinner or something, and when he did, I would make my move.

I looked on the clock on the dashboard and saw that it was past ten p.m. I had been waiting for almost six hours and I was beginning to lose all feeling in my foot. I had walked around the lot and had spotted his car, so I knew that he was still there, but that did little to comfort me as I froze my ass off. Just when I decided that maybe it was time for me to just forget the whole plan and give him a call, he walked out of the automated doors with two other colleagues in tow. They parted ways at his car and I watched as he searched his jacket pocket for his keys. I took this as my cue to move. I quietly opened my car door and walked quietly towards his turned back, and just as he pressed his car alarm, I pounced on him from behind covering the back of his neck with my lips. It seemed like a good idea when I thought it up but seeing his reaction made me rethink my position. His elbow connected with my stomach, and when I was doubled over, his knee connected with my nose. I fell back into a tree and slid painfully to the ground.

"Shit, Adam, it's me!" I cried out, holding my nose with my hands.

"Michael," he said, tentatively at first, as if he wasn't sure it was me, and later, more definitively as he stared into my face, a look of shock etched unto his.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't know it was you. What are you doing here? Are you ok? Come on, let me take you inside and check to see if you're ok." His voice was remorseful and almost made up for the fact that my nose felt as if it had been split in half.

"No, I'm fine, it's just a nose bleed."

"Don't be ridiculous, Michael. Jesus Christ, I could have broken your nose. What were you doing sneaking up on me like that? I thought you were a mugger or something. And you still haven't told me what you're doing here." As he bombarded me with questions, I had an opportunity to look into the face that I hadn't seen in weeks, and all I could think of was how much I missed him.

"What?" he asked, when he picked up on my staring. It seemed to be unnerving him no end, as he began to blush furiously, and tried his best to avoid my prolonged stare.

It was now or never I thought, as I held my nose, trying to prevent the blood from gushing down unto my white shirt, while at the same time trying to hear my own voice over that of my overworked heart.

Without thinking of those things anymore, I told him, "I love you."

Those words weren't said in a flustered moment, nor were they said in the heat of the moment, but rather they were said at the right moment, the moment when I went through what Adam had probably been going through for the past few months. The stars seemed to be shinning a little brighter and I couldn't even imagine my life without this man in it.

"I know," his voice brought me back to the here and now, and I couldn't help but smile.

"And you believe me?"

"I always have, Michael."

I had to admit I was relieved to hear that. "Now, can we get you inside and checked out, please, before you bleed to death.?" he added.

"Ok, ok, now we can get this checked out," I stated, taking his hand and following his lead as he pulled himself and then me. As we started walking towards the entrance I spoke again, "boy, you got a punch on you."

He seemed to find the humor in it as he responded with, "I know but I'm a lover, not a fighter."

It was a cheesy line even coming from Mr. Perfection, himself, but it was something that I held on to. And for some reason, I needed to hear that, to know that was what we were to each other, and what we planned to do to each other. I was fed up with the childish bullshit anyway, and I needed Adam's reassurance that we were through with our petty fighting.

"So, I take it you're happy to see me?" I assumed, holding my head back slightly to contain the bleeding.

"More than happy," he whispered, and with that, he leaned in and kissed me slowly on the lips. It was brief, as blood mixed in would have been way too S and M, but it was all the reassurance I needed.

His head rested on my chest as I played with his black hair that he had allowed to grow out a little. He looked up at me and smiled, taking the tender moment to kiss my chest ever so slowly.

"I want to make love again," he whispered, trailing his fingers down until he reached my boxers.

"Soon," I promised, "but first, I want to talk."

He looked up at me, his eyes widening at the prospect.

"You want to talk rather than have sex, unbelievable!"

"Funny, smart ass. Keep that up and you'll be using your hand tonight," I teased, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"You know I'm just kidding. If you want to talk, then we'll talk." With that, he sat up as did I and he turned to face me.

"Well, I, um, I like how things seem to be turning out for us. But there is a problem that I don't see us working around."

He looked up at me worriedly, and began absentmindedly biting his lower lip.

"What problem?" he asked.

"This distance thing," I stated.

"Michael..." he started, and stopped, as I put a finger to his lips to silence him.

"It's not going to work, Adam. I need you right there with me or else I might, I might resort to my old ways, and I don't want that. But at the same time I don't feel it right for me to ask you to move, so I've come a conclusion."

"Which is?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Well, of course I'll have to ask your permission first, but I'm gonna be moving back up this way, and if it's ok with you, I want to move in here with you, or we can get a place together, kinda like a fresh start, you know."

At first, his look was unreadable, but then a smile began to slowly spread across his face.

"Are you serious, Michael, no bullshitting? You're moving back and in here?"

"If it's ok with you," I said. For a moment, I thought he was about to cry, but instead, he flung himself into my arms and started to kiss the side of my neck.

"You damn well know it's ok with me. I can't believe you'd want to do this."

"Well, if you're not sure..." I teased.

"Shut up, Michael, you know I'm sure. Now, can we have sex? All this sentimentalism is starting to get to me. I might think you're going soft," he teased in return, looking up at me.

"I'll show you soft," I growled, leaning into him and kissing him roughly before reaching over and turning off the light.

SORRY FOR THE DELAY, HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. FEEDBACK IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME. THIS SERIES IS COMING TO AN END QUICKLY SO I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR AND WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO SEE. THANKS AND ENJOY