Two Lives Two Loves

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story also deals with love and consensual sexual activities between men. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by such themes, do not read further and leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story. Reproductions or links to other sites are not allowed without the permission of the author.

Two Lives - Two Loves

Chapter 7

I was still cooling down from our shower and I didn't want to get dressed just yet. I still had that clammy feel that you sometimes get for a few minutes after a hot shower, and believe me, that had been the hottest shower I'd ever had. So while I cooled down I just pulled on some briefs, threw a towel around my shoulders and went to look out the window, wiping my face and pecs occasionally. The rain that had run us off of the patio was coming down at a pretty decent clip and showed no signs of letting up any time soon. I felt Jon come to stand behind me, then his hands on my hips, a gentle kiss on my shoulder.

"Looks like this is going to go on for a while," I said. "I'm glad we got our diving in early."

"Yeah, me too," Jon agreed. "Let's do it tomorrow if the weather's nice."

"Fine by me. What time did the shop open...ten?"

"Nine, I think."

"We'll check it out," I said. "You getting hungry?"

"Yeah, let's get dressed and see what's to eat. There's beer's to be drunk, too, you know."

I pulled on some shorts and Jon's football jersey, I really liked his jersey, and we headed down to the kitchen.

I was still in awe of the kitchen. It was really a combination of a kitchen with casual dining for family and a recreation room all rolled into one. Jon's uncle obviously loved large spaces and I could see where he'd joined two rooms together to make the one huge space, just as I'd discovered with the front parlor in my dream.

I fired up the plasma screen, large enough to be clearly seen from anywhere in the space, and flipped around until I found the Weather Channel. We stayed with that, while Jon got things ready for dinner, until the local weather came around. Rain, rain and more rain. All day off and on, every day for what looked like the entire week. That was really going to put a crimp in doing any diving. Oh, well, they've been wrong before and I knew that if I didn't like the weather I only had to wait a few minutes and it would change.

"That's not looking promising," Jon said, nodding at the weather report.

"No, not at all. We'll just have to play things by ear, I guess," I said a little glumly. "Say, where's that beer?!"

"Way ahead of you," Jon said as he passed a wonderfully sweaty bottle my way. "Have a seat while I cook," Jon said, pointing to one of the tall chairs in front of the island. "...and see what's on the World War II channel while you've got the remote."

I chuckled, knowing what he meant. As expected there was a program on the aircraft carriers of, you guessed it, World War II.

"That looks good; leave it there."

I was surprised to find that Jon was fairly capable in the kitchen. I watched as he sauteed some chicken breasts, chopped mushrooms, onions and, I think, parsley then combined it all in a large pan with some marsala wine and set it in the oven to bake.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" I asked quizzically.

"My mother," Jon replied. "She always believed that, money or no money, we should all know how to do for ourselves."

"We?" I asked. I'd guessed that Jon had siblings but I didn't really know. My focus, as you might have guessed, had always been solely on him.

"Yeah," he said. "I've got a kid brother and an older sister. I thought you knew that?" he said, a little puzzled.

"Where'd they come from?" I asked. "You never mentioned them before," I said.

"Never came up, I guess," he said, finishing off his beer, cracking open another.

That was typical Jon, very closed-mouth about everything, unless he was in one of his effusive moods. Like now, you generally had to lube him up with a few beers to get him to open up and spill any personal information. I didn't say anything but he knew I was waiting for more.

"So give," I said. "Tell me about 'em."

"Well, my brother's Ian," he began. "He just turned sixteen this past February. Great kid; I love the hell out of him. Swims a lot...plays tennis. He's gonna be big, too. He's a hair over six foot now and's still growing..takes after mom's side of the family. I take after the runty side," he said.

"Yeah, but you're a nice looking runt," I said, grinning.

"Thanks," Jon said, returning my grin.

"He sounds gorgeous," I said. "Is he straight or gay?"

"Oh, he's definitely straight," Jon said. "He got grounded for almost a month after mom caught him downloading porn from the web when he thought she was out," Jon laughed. "He's' got the trademark blond hair, too, so he doesn't have any trouble getting as much as he wants," he offered, now that the alcohol was working its way into his system.

"Does he know you're gay?" I asked.

"No," Jon said matter-of-factly. It sounded like he didn't want him to know, either, so I didn't press the matter. When Jon spoke in short phrases like that, he was building defenses around himself.

"So what about your sister?" I asked.

"You mean The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms? Her name's Kristen. She's a few years older than I am, finished school last year and moved to New York for a job in communications with one of the cable networks. I think she wants to be a news anchor or something some day."

"I'm just a little surprised you never mentioned her before, your brother, too."

"Well," he paused, "we love each other deep down, I guess, but we're just two entirely different people. She had her friends, I had mine and never the twain met, as you might say."

I listened attentively as I opened another beer. When Jon got on a roll like this, you didn't want to interrupt him or the flow would be totally gone.

"It's probably 'cuz of me that we aren't closer. I kinda think that she loves me more than I love her. I was always the baby brother. I was always her little Ken doll when I was growing up and I didn't particularly care for it. Then she started dating and I remember being more interested in her dates than she probably was and not being able to do anything about it. When I got to a datable age, she was always trying to fix me up with her friends sisters and that made for a different kind of tension between us. I did my duty and went out with a couple of them but it never amounted to anything; I liked them as friends, but I never really felt anything for them in a boyfriend-girlfriend kinda way. My sister never understood why that was. I knew, but I wasn't at all ready to accept it. Kris used to rag on me about, 'well, what's wrong with so an so', and like that, and I always had to toss it off with some lame excuse, 'cuz I couldn't tell her that I thought I was gay; she'd never understand. I'm not sure I did. After I did the can-we-just-be-friends thing to one of them, she accused me of being gay, out of thoughtless frustration I think, and my hand just jumped out and smacked he. That got me grounded and she didn't talk to me for almost two weeks. Then she went off to college and since then we only really see each other at holidays."

"Do you think she'd understand if you told her now?" I asked.

"I don't know. I think she'd be supportive but I'm not sure I'm ready to tell anyone just yet," he said.

"That's cool," I said. "I totally respect that. You should call her, though, even if it's just to say hello," I continued. "Family's important; you should stay in touch. She'd probably get a kick out of you making the effort."

"Thank you, Oprah. Someday, maybe," Jon said, laughing as he drained his second beer. "So what's your story? We've haven't touched on that yet," he asked. "You're obviously not out at school; no one knows but us. You out to your folks?"

"My mom knows, dad doesn't," I said. "And she found out more by accident than by any decision on my part. I ended up coming out, well...pulled out would probably be a better description, the summer before my senior year of High School. I was on the swim team at my parent's country club. Physically, I was sort of a late bloomer, you know? I wasn't quite finished growing to the height I am now...Hand me another beer, would you, Jon?" I asked. He handed it to me and I took a long draw...damn, this stuff is good, I thought.

"So what happened?"

"Anyway, I was still growing, swimming almost every day and working out, too, so I was starting to look really good..."

"Not to mention how modest you were becoming, too," Jon laughed.

"That's right; to say nothing of my growing modesty," I agreed, prompting a loud chuckle from Jon. "One day after practice, I was combing my hair in the mirror and I noticed one of my team mates checking me out...guy named Miles. I don't think I realized it for what it was at the time. He was a friend from another school. During the school year we swam against each other but during the summer we were all on the same team. The first time it happened, I thought it was my imagination. Why would he be checking me out, you know? Then I caught him at it the next day and then the day after that. And the strange thing was that I was starting to enjoy it. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was a really sharp looking guy. He could be a model if he wanted. I started thinking about him more and more and when I did I started getting erections, which could be real embarrassing in those skimpy little racing trunks we wore," I said.

"Doesn't take much, does it?" Jon interjected.

"Boy, you're not kidding," I said. "I could get hard just looking at doughnuts," I laughed. "So one day, after I'd seen Miles checking me out for like the fifth or sixth time, I caught up with him on the way out and asked him what he was doing for the rest of the afternoon. He didn't have any plans so I suggested we get a pizza and go back to my place and hang out. I knew that dad was at work and mom was playing golf so no one would be home for hours. So we grabbed a pizza and went back to my place. We were up in my room, listening to CD's and talking about school and the team and stuff, then we started complimenting the shit out of each other on our swimming, our style, how well we'd done at meets, stuff like that. Right then I knew he was as horny as I was. I decided to test the water a little and kicked my shoes off. He asked if I minded him taking his shoes off, so I said sure, no prob. Then I made some lame- ass comment about it being warm in the room and would he mind if I took my shirt off. Of course, he didn't mind. In fact, he agreed that it was getting warm in the room, not for any lack of AC, though, I'll tell you that, and asked if I minded him taking his shirt off, too. The next thing we knew, we were both on my bed sucking face and pawing each other like mad."

I paused for a second to suck down some more beer and just to torment Jon a little. His jaw looked like it was going to fall to the floor any second. "Jon, you're drooling," I said.

"...am not!" he said. I laughed as he quickly wiped his mouth and tried to regain his cool. He jumped, a little annoyed at first then grinning at being caught slack-jawed. "So anyway?" he asked.

"So anyway, he and I were on the bed, surgically attached at the lips and twisting around like a couple of eels. Then I begin to slide my hand into his waist and he started to undo his belt buckle. I undid mine and guided his hand down, you know? Needless to say, we were really enjoying our private time," I said with a wink.

I guzzled some more beer to let that sink in. I was loving the tortured way Jon hung on every word.

"And?" he asked, getting a little torqued at me for stringing him along.

"Well, being in a nice, cool, air conditioned house, we hadn't realized what a miserably hot and humid day it was getting to be outside. And there was absolutely no way we could've guessed that my mom and her friends would quit their golf game after the front nine 'cuz it was so hot."

"Oh, no," Jon muttered, starting to see that the light at the end of my particular tunnel was, in fact, a train.

"Oh, yeah," I confirmed. We had the music cranked up pretty loud and we were so much into what we were doing that we didn't hear my mother drive up. Well, mom has a short fuse when it comes to loud music. Add to that the fact that she wasn't happy about not finishing her game and we had the makings of a real disaster brewing. Le'me put it this way: we didn't think we'd needed to lock the door and my mother was in no mood to knock."

"Oh, my God," Jon mumbled, wide-eyed.

"Well, she came flying through my door, ready to read me yet another article from the Riot Act about my music and she stopped dead in her tracks. She got so bug-eyed and her mouth was so wide I thought she was having a heart attack. Miles and I jumped up and zipped back up so fast I thought we'd wrench our backs. We were both so embarrassed that we could've crawled up inside our own asses. Personally, I thought Miles was gonna shit, his faced turned so red."

Jon looked dumbstruck. "So what happened?"

"After she snapped out of her initial shock, mom sternly told me to turn the music off and join her in the kitchen...and Miles was like, 'Me, too?'...and she was like, 'Yes, Miles Benton; you too!' Well, we joined her in the kitchen, the family conference room, where she proceeded to give us the talk about how things were supposed to work in life, etcetera, etcetera. Miles and I did some fast talking and told her that we were just curious and experimenting n' shit. He pleaded with her for what seemed like an hour that that's all it was, it wouldn't happen again and please 'don't tell my parents, they'll kill me!' Finally, after some more lecturing on her part, she promised Miles she wouldn't say anything and told him to go home."

"And that was that?" Jon asked.

"Oh, no, not quite," I said. "After Miles left...well, actually it was more like after he flew out the door...my mother had a more subdued little chat with me. She'd calmed down from her initial shock and I think she was just physically and mentally drained. She looked me dead in the eye and said, 'you two weren't just experimenting, were you?'"

"So what'd you do?"

"Well, you know that old saying: 'You can fool all of the people some of the time and you can fool some of the people all of the time, but you can't fool Mom?" I asked.

Jon nodded. "You told her?"

"Yeah; for once I listened to that pronounced little voice that whispers in my ear now and then and I just decided to hell with it and told her. I told her that I'd never done it with anyone before that but I was sure I was gay. There...I'd said it. And you know what?... she didn't even blink; she just sat there and let me have my say. But I wasn't going to fuck up Miles' life so I told her that Miles himself was just curious and that was all.probably just a thing he was going through, 'cuz every girl at the club wanted to do the nasty with him and he did date a lot. I begged her again not to tell his parents, that it would totally ruin his life and she agreed." I drained the remaining beer, "Damn this stuff's good...you having another?" I asked.

"Absolutely," he said, cracking open two more. "So what about your dad?"

"Well, she mumbled something about love coming in all shapes and sizes but that she still thought I was way too young and immature for any kind of sexual relationship no matter who it was with. She was cool about it, though, and said that we'd keep this between us and that dad wouldn't hear it from her unless I was ready for him to hear it. Dad's real old school and would require a lot of prepping before he could be told, is what she said. So to this day, he still has no idea and he thinks that I don't date much just because of sports and schoolwork.I've always kept up my GPA. After that, she just gave me a hug, which surprised the hell out of me, and told me to be careful and to use my common sense...'unlike today', is what she said."

"Wow, that was some rollercoaster ride," Jon said in amazement.

"Yeah it was," I said, swallowing some more beer.

"So'd anything happen with Miles?" Jon asked, clearly unable to contain his curiosity.

I smiled broadly at Jon's highly transparent question. "S'matter, Jon? You getting hot or is that the oven?" I laughed.

"Dude, you can't just leave me hanging like that," he said, trying to adjust himself inconspicuously but not having much success. "Did you see him again?"

"Oh, yeah. I saw him every day at practice during the week. We had a good laugh over the whole thing and I made sure to let him know that mom was cool and his secret was safe. I swear, I could almost tangibly feel the relief flood into him when I told him. Then Thursday after practice we went out for pizza and he told me that his parents were gonna do a long weekend out of town with some old college friends starting Friday. So we had a preeeeetty good idea of what we were doing after practice the next day."

Jon laughed.

"Well, we picked up right where we'd left off except this time we locked the door, just in case. We were sucking face and groping each other really hot n' heavy for awhile and then he whispers those three magical little words in my ear..."

"I love you?"

"No, 'Let's get naked'!" Jon and I both broke up laughing.

"We couldn't peel our clothes off fast enough, boy! And no sooner had I jumped back in bed then he pushes me back down and wraps his mouth around my tool and, I've gotta tell you, I'd never felt anything so fucking good in my life! And when I came, I was like twitching so bad I thought my back was gonna snap! Then after I'd recovered, I told Miles it was his turn. I had a little trouble at first 'cuz he was bigger than what I'd guessed and I couldn't take him all in and keep from gagging but I did the best I could for a newbie. Then he shot his load and I almost gagged again but I managed not to. By late afternoon we were sixty-nining, which, in my humble opinion, I thought was just the hottest thing ever!...You're drooling again, Jon," I laughed.

"Jerk," he laughed quietly. "So do you still see him?"

"Hardly ever," I said. "After school started up again he went back to his school, I went back to mine and we went back to being friendly competitors in the pool. We'd try to get together when we could find some privacy for a little 'stress relief', you know, but after graduation we went to different colleges and kinda lost touch. I get an email from him now and then but generally that episode's over with," I said mistily. "The rest of that summer was really hot, though, I tell you."

"And that was your first time?"

"That was my first time," I echoed. "How's the food coming? I'm getting hungry."

Jon checked the time then peeked in the oven. "Another half hour, I think. You want another beer?"

"Nah, I've still got...," I started to say, looking down to get the bottle I'd been working on only to find that it wasn't there. "What'd you do with my beer, man; I wasn't done with it."

"I didn't do anything with it," Jon said. "I thought you tossed it one of those times when I was checking the food."

"I didn't toss it," I said. "I was only half done with it."

My bottle was nowhere to be seen on the island where it'd been sitting. Jon and I both looked around and then Jon finally pointed over towards the sitting area in front of the TV. "Is that it?" he asked incredulously.

I turned to look where he was pointing and there was the bottle, sitting on the end table next to the sofa, a good ten feet away from where I'd been spinning my story. I went over to pick it up and inspect it. At first, I thought it was one left over from the night before but it was still cold, half full and wet with condensation. Then I really felt a cold shiver go up my back when I noticed the corner of the label was peeled back from where I'd been absent- mindedly picking at it while Jon and I were talking.

"Oh, this is too weird," I said.

"Brad, I know I saw you set it down once, but are you sure you didn't put it there when I wasn't looking? Maybe just to mess with me a little?"

"I swear to you," I said, raising my right hand. "I did not get up from that stool the whole time we were talking. Besides, you never had your back turned long enough for me to do something like that without you noticing and neither of us are that drunk...yet!"

"Well, it didn't walk over there by itself."

"Jon, I'm telling you, this house is screwing around with me," I said looking around and wagging my finger at the air.

"Yeah, this does go about half past weird," he said. "Maybe the ghost just likes you, too," he laughed.

"You know," I started, "what I've been feeling around the house could probably just be chalked up to an overactive imagination," I said, inspecting the bottle then holding it out to Jon, "but telekinesis is like a couple of steps beyond."

"What's telekinesis?"

"That's where shit moves around by itself. Like, you remember that Spielberg movie where the ghost investigators are having coffee with the family and the one says she can't be certain that their house is really haunted and, right then, the coffee pot slides across the table by itself? That's telekinesis," I explained.

Being a horror aficionado, Jon knew exactly what I was talking about and could sense my anxiety. "Brad, look," he began, "I'll admit I think it's definitely strange, but my uncle's never said anything about having a bad experience in this house and, frankly, I think it's kinda cool. How often do you get to experience something like this first hand?"

"Never, before this," I said, mulling his words over.

"I mean, like, you've done a lot of diving, right?"

"Sure."

"Ever been close to sharks?" he asked, leading me along with his breadcrumbs of logic.

"Absolutely," I said. "Up close and personal...more than once."

"And you've never been attacked?"

"No," I mumbled.

"Why?"

"You just stay cool and they don't bother you."

"And how did you feel when you were swimming around with them?" he asked.

It was plainly obvious where he was going with this. "To be honest, as nervous as I was, I couldn't help thinking how magnificent they were," I said, smiling as I remembered several dives down in Florida. "I had this strange feeling of danger wrapped tightly in a beautiful package...it was kinda hot, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Jon said quietly as he ran his hand over my back and gave me a soft, calming kiss.

He'd done the trick. It was moments like this when I was absolutely certain why I was so deeply attracted to him. Even without that gorgeous god-bod I would have wanted him. He had a very calming influence on me, sort of the control rod in my personal nuclear reactor...yeah, I know that's an odd analogy to make about a bottom, but that's Jon.

"You know," I said. "You're gonna make someone a wonderful psychiatrist some day."

"Thanks," he said. "All I've gotta do is get into med school."

"You will; don't worry," I said. "That voice is telling me that you'll do great."

"What voice?"

"Later...How's the food coming? All this excitement's made me hungry."

"Oh, shit!" Jon jumped. "I should've taken it out ten minutes ago."

The air was fragrant with the smell of mushrooms and Marsala wine as Jon pulled the food out of the oven and set it on the stovetop to cool a little. I helped make some wild rice to go with it all and we sat down to eat. It was totally fabulous. The chicken couldn't have been any more tender and the blending of flavors was subtly rich.

"Hey," I said, "What about some of that wine downstairs to go with this?"

"We do, we die," he said. "The wine's strictly verboten. My uncle said we could drink whatever we wanted except for the wine. It's all part of his collection, too."

"Well, what good is it if you can't drink it?" I asked.

"He doesn't even drink it himself. He collects it, trades it, you name it. I don't know the first thing about wines but I got the idea from what he was saying that those wines are pretty fucking valuable. We'll just have to muddle through with all of this lousy imported beer," he laughed.

"Yeah," I gave in, grinning, "Life's a bitch, huh?"

After dinner, we cleared away the dishes, grabbed another couple of beers and popped a tape in the machine that we'd gotten at the video store. 'The Haunting', it was called. Jon claimed it was an old black and white classic. I didn't want to get it 'cuz I'd seen the one that had come out several years ago, which absolutely stunk by the way, that was supposed to be a remake of this one, but Jon begged me to watch it with him. I was actually pleasantly surprised to find it was a faithful rendition of Shirley Jackson's book 'The Haunting of Hill House', which I'd had to read in freshman English. The film even preserved the subtle gay overtones from Jackson's book and I remember thinking that that must have been absolutely scandalous in its day once people figured out what she was writing. I found the theme of the team of investigators in a haunted house a little unsettling but as long as Jon was there, everything was fine.

After the movie was over, we just flicked around the channels, finally settling on something on the Comedy Channel and just put our brains in neutral. It didn't take Jon long to fall asleep, his head in my lap. I paid no attention to the droning from the TV as I slowly ran my fingers through his soft hair and gently traced the lines of his face as he lay in childlike sleep. I thought about how truly lucky I was to have him as a friend.as a lover.

We'd had a long and, generally speaking, excellent day, but I was having a little trouble getting past this gnawing feeling of apprehension, that really strange dream. It was getting really late, however, and we were both exhausted. It didn't take long before I wanted to turn in, so I roused Jon only long enough to get us upstairs where we stripped and crawled into bed. It took Jon about ten seconds to fall back asleep curled around me. I kind of envied him that. If he really wanted to, Jon could fall dead asleep in the middle of a rock concert. Sleep didn't come as easily for me, even then as I lay there with my arm wrapped around him. His deep, regular breathing was very soothing as was the patter of the rain against the house but still my mind was chattering, thinking to me about my odd experiences these past couple of days in this offbeat house. It fixated on a passage from Jackson's book that seemed to have worrisome relevance at just that moment as the worrier voice in me took hold:

"Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its

hills, holding darkness within;...Within, walls continued

upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors

were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the

wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked

there, walked alone."

I lay still, scrutinizing every part of our darkened room, listening intently to this house, trying to pick out anything that might have been out of the realm of the ordinary, wondering if it, too, was not sane. Nothing. Not one sound except for Jon and the rain. Jon was right; I worried way too much about things that didn't need worrying over. To hell with it, I thought. Yawning, I rolled over into Jon as sleep settled around me like a warm blanket.

The absolute best part of sleep was that point near morning in which you were still very much asleep but were just awake enough to know you were sleeping. You all know that point. It's that point we especially enjoy on days when we don't have anything pressing to concern ourselves with except just the enjoyment of sleep. You all know that feeling, too; twisting around in the cool sheets, slowly stretching, just awake enough to feel yourself stretching and feeling really great about stretching before slipping wonderfully back into that state where dreams come easily, sometimes at a break- neck pace.

That's where I was just then, in that wonderfully deep trancelike state where my brain tells my body to just lie back, quit moving around and to just enjoy the dreams, to just enjoy the sensation of sleep for its own sake, to just enjoy being in my body. And the dreams came; pure feelings without thought, feelings of the purest, untainted love, pouring over me, enveloping me luxuriously. I could dimly see, through that darkened glass of dreaming, that nebulous love, beckoning me, begging me to be one with it. Without consciously willing myself to do so, I felt as if I was rising to meet it, leaving my body and all of its limitations behind, knowing that if I could turn around I'd see myself still lying quietly in bed. The pervasive lightness of the form swaddled me in such intense love as I have never felt before and I opened myself fully to it, allowing us to become one. And as we became one, the intensity of that love indescribably magnified within me a thousand fold, bringing with it a culminating feeling of such intense peace and well being as I could never recall feeling. Cradled by the intensity of this love, I ever so slowly began to return to my body, slowly beginning to consciously see again, to consciously feel again as I felt the moist warmth of my lover's lips on my own, as I opened to him tenderly, tasting the remnants of me in him, slowly embracing him as he lay atop me.

"Good morning," Jon whispered.

"G'mornin'," I managed to reply, my brain and mouth still not quite in synch, my eyes still flickering open.

"I hope you enjoyed your wakeup call," he said.

"Mmmmmm," I nodded. "That was totally awesome. If the bellboys are all as attentive as you, I'll have to stay at this hotel more often," I laughed quietly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he grinned. "You felt like you needed it."

"Yeah I did," I said as I pulled his mouth back down onto mine and slowly caressed his body, gently stroking his lower back and gluts with my fingertips. He enjoyed that and I felt his arms tighten around my chest, his kiss becoming more forceful as I felt his body wordlessly begging.

"Your turn," I whispered as I pushed him back into the cool of our bed. Our bed, I thought. I liked the sound of that.

(To Be Continued)

• • • • Author's Notes:

Credit for specific references made in this chapter should go to the following:

1."The Haunting of Hill House", by Shirley Jackson,

copyright 1959, 1987, Penguin Books 2."The Haunting", copyright 1963 by MGM Studios.

I highly recommend this book and the movie that followed it to fans of the genre. More information can be found about them at Amazon.com.