tagGay MaleMy Life is You Ch. 07

My Life is You Ch. 07

bymypussyandyours©

ONCE AGAIN I HAVE TO INSERT A WARNING IN THIS CHAPTER. NO SEX IN THIS ONE. SORRY TO THOSE OF YOU WHO ONLY WANT THAT. TO THE READERS THAT HAVE BEEN SO INCREDIBLY SUPPORTIVE OF ME, THANK YOU!



Seth sat in his living room, reading a file on Alyxandria Mallon. She was a 22-year-old woman who had been injured while snowboarding. Her back was broken in two places, but luckily her spinal column was not damaged.

Tomorrow, Seth would move into Miss Mallon’s house. Her father, who was quite well off and very protective of his daughter, had delayed her starting therapy because he hadn’t met any therapists he’d liked.

That had changed once Seth interviewed for the position. While Seth found Mr. Mallon overbearing and rude, Mr. Mallon apparently believed Seth to be the man that would be best for his little girl.

Seth knew he had a lot of work to do with Miss Mallon. She should have started therapy almost a month ago, which meant her recovery was already well behind schedule. Back injuries were tricky enough without being slow out of the starting gate.

He should have been totally focused on Alyxandria Mallon’s injury and developing a program that was right for her. Every injury, every person, demanded specialization. Seth excelled at finding ways to help people that worked with that person’s personality and challenges, but only if he concentrated on the task at hand.

So, here he sat, reading everything and comprehending nothing. He wasn’t taking notes or planning exercises, like he normally would be.

Sighing in disgust, he closed the file and threw it onto the coffee table. He scrubbed his hands over his face, the three-day growth of beard on his cheeks and neck making a raspy sound against the skin of his hands.

If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he hadn’t given his full attention to anything since the night a week ago that Dillon had fired him. He hadn’t been working out or helping others. He hadn’t even been eating right. All he had been doing was thinking about Dillon and trying to figure out how things had gone so horribly wrong.

Somehow, Dillon had misinterpreted everything he wanted to say before he even got a chance to say it. He had majorly overreacted to the comment about it being obvious he was gay. Maybe if Seth had explained he’d seen Dillon’s collection of gay porn, Dillon would have been more understanding. Of course, Dillon hadn’t given him the chance to explain that.

Now, Seth was kicking himself for not forcing Dillon to listen to him. He should have insisted that Dillon calm down and listen. He should have refused to leave until they had sat down and figured everything out.

But like an idiot he hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d turned and gone to his room, where he’d packed up all his things. When he’d walked out the front door, he’d closed it very quietly behind him, knowing that he’d never be coming back.

On Monday morning he’d arranged for his therapist equipment to be picked up and delivered to his house. Now, it all sat in his garage, waiting for transport to the home of Alyxandria Mallon.

Dillon loved him. Seth groaned. When had that happened? How had he missed it? That revelation had totally shocked Seth. It was the last thing he had expected to hear from Dillon, especially in the middle of an argument. The words had rang in his ears long after they were said.

And did he love Dillon? Seth couldn’t deny he was attracted to Dillon. He’d been attracted to Dillon the first time they’d met. Seth’s lips curled in a wry smile. Dillon didn’t remember the first time they’d met. As far as he’d been concerned, he hadn’t known Seth until the day Seth had shown up at his house, ready to take on the job of being his therapist.

Ironic wasn’t it? Dillon had been so adverse to the idea of getting to know Seth that he didn’t even remember the week they’d shared a room in the hospital. Yet now, he was in love with Seth.

Seth had been blown away by Dillon the first time he’d seen him. Dillon had looked so lost and alone, so scared of what was to come. No one had come to visit Dillon and Seth had wondered if Dillon was truly alone in the world.

He hadn’t succeeded, but he’d tried very hard to draw Dillon out. He’d talked more than he ever had before, chattering away about anything and everything that had come to mind. His rambling dialogues had only seemed to push Dillon farther into his shell, however, and finally he had given up.

He did remember the dreams Dillon used to have at night while in the hospital. Seth didn’t know exactly what they were about, but he’d been able to tell that Dillon had lost someone close to him. Dillon would cry in his sleep, begging someone not to leave, to stay, to not take their love away.

At the time, Seth had believed Dillon was talking about someone who had died in the same car accident that had injured Dillon. Now he knew the truth, that Dillon had been crying out for Brad not to leave him.

Seth took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists. Every time he thought about Brad, he got angry enough to spit nails. The man was so damn selfish! Dillon had needed him, but he hadn’t thought of that. All he’d thought about was his own needs.


But am I any better? Seth asked himself.

Instead of acknowledging Dillon’s love, he had just walked away. Of course, Dillon had kicked him out first, but that was beside the point. He’d left when he could have refused to. He could have stayed and fought to explain himself.

Now, though, he couldn’t go back. Dillon had been abandoned so many times; he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with the latest man to do it to him.

His shoulders shaking, Seth crumpled in on himself. He had just realized that he did love Dillon and that by not letting Dillon know, he’d lost him.

**

Dillon sat in his room, his head leaning back against the wall behind him. The window was thrown open and he was seated upon the window seat.

From the sidewalk below him, he could hear the playful growling of Bandy, the fox terrier that belonged to the kids that lived next door. He was pretty sure that a spirited game of tug-of-war would be in progress between Bandy and his youthful masters.

More and more lately, Dillon found himself wishing that he had a backyard and a deck. He would love to have the chance to sit outside whenever he wanted and feel the sun on his face.

Spring was here. It had arrived the day he and Seth had gone to the park and it had decided to stay, instead of just visiting and then leaving again like it sometimes did. Dillon had always loved spring and the chance to have fun outside.

Though none of them had mentioned it to him, Dillon knew his friends would have started up the informal Ultimate Frisbee League they had created four years ago. They’d be meeting every Tuesday after work to play.

Dillon wondered who had taken his place this year. The teams had been evenly divided last year, with four men to each team. It wasn’t fair to have four against three, so they must have found another player.

Maybe Brad had a new boyfriend and he’d been invited to join in. The thought hurt, but Dillon knew it was possible. As one of the founders of the game, Brad would still be playing and probably had found Dillon’s replacement.

Spring was a time for rebirth, at least according to all the poems. So why didn’t he feel renewed? When all was said and done, he should be feeling pretty good about himself. He was walking, his new therapist said he was doing very well for a man who had injured his knee so badly.

Of course the fact that he had a new therapist might be part of it. He missed Seth, wanted Seth back in his life. The woman who was helping him now was nice enough, but she didn’t have the personality or sense of humor that Seth had. Nor did she understand him the way Seth did. I want Seth back, he wailed in the depths of his heart.

Not that it was possible. Even if Seth were gay, which Dillon knew he wasn’t, there was no way Seth would ever forgive him for being so rude. What had come over him? He hadn’t allowed Seth to get a word in edgewise.

Granted, Seth had revealed that he’d been aware of the fact that Dillon was gay, but that didn’t mean Seth had a problem with it. So Seth hadn’t said anything, so what? Could Dillon really expect Seth to bring it up in the conversation? What would he have said? "Great, bend your knee a little farther now. By the way, I know you like to take it up the ass and that’s totally cool. Now extend that knee." Dillon just didn’t see them having a conversation like that.

**

Sweat ran down Dillon’s nose and dripped onto the floor as he struggled to keep his balance. His arms were spread wide and once again his right foot was hooked over his left leg. This time, however, he had a thick pillow placed directly beneath his right knee. With each bend of his arms, his knee sank onto the pillow for a brief moment.

Reaching the fiftieth push-up, he gratefully sank down and strained back up for the last time. Once done, he allowed himself to sink down onto the floor, the pillow cushioning his knee. The carpet was damp where his head was, having been watered by the sweat running off him.

After a moment’s rest, he rolled over onto his back. Bending his knees so that his feet rested on the floor, he cupped his hands in loose fists next to, but not touching, his ears. Sucking in a breath, he began to do crunches, twisting at the top of each motion.

Losing himself in the motion, he pushed hard. He added an extra twist at the top of each crunch in order to make the exercise more difficult. Soon, his abdominal muscles began to ache, but he just kept going. Only when there was no way he could lift his upper body from the floor again did he stop.

Dillon knew he shouldn’t be pushing this hard, that he would regret it the next day, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Only when his body was burning from the pain of physical exertion did his heart take a break from burning with unrequited love.

A month had gone by since he had kicked Seth out of his life, but his heart hurt as much today as it did the day it happened. More so, in some ways.

His friends were wonderful people. They did their best to treat him the same as they had before the accident, but in some ways that just wasn’t possible. He couldn’t play football or Ultimate Frisbee with them and golfing was definitely out of the question. Even going to the movies was a changed experience since he spent most of the movie asking what was happening.

That didn’t stop them from trying at first, though. Jeremy, especially, had been determined to find new ways to spend time with him. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jeremy was a family man/homemaker at heart. Lately, Jeremy and the others hadn’t been coming around anymore. In fact, Dillon couldn’t remember the last time he had heard the phone ring. He had thought about calling them, but if they were uncomfortable with him, he didn’t want to force himself upon them.

Soon, he would have to find a way to begin his life again. He’d obtained a huge settlement from the guy who had caused the accident, enough that he’d never have to work again, but he couldn’t stand being idle for the rest of his life. He was used to being busy, to having a purpose to his days. Since the accident, his purpose had been to learn to walk, to learn to live. Well, he was succeeding. What was next?

Dillon knew one thing that he wanted to start as soon as possible: he wanted to learn to read. He missed reading, missed losing himself in a book. Well, that could be solved. He had signed up to take a class in Braille twice a week and soon he’d be on the way to enjoying the imaginations of others.

**

"Come on, Sprite, you can do it. Your fingers are so close. Just a bit more and you’ll be touching those toes!"

Seth stood to the side of Alyxandria Mallon and watched her struggle. Alyxandria, or Alyx as her friends called her, had become Sprite in his mind. She was a tiny woman with a lithe body, reminding him of a wood sprite. In addition, she was bubbly, effervescent, and had a bit of a tang to her. Yep, she was definitely Sprite!

Sprite didn’t let anything get her down. Or, at least, she never stayed down long. Emotionally, she bounced back with alacrity no matter what was thrown at her.

She wasn’t bouncing back from her injury that quickly, though. The snowboarding accident had resulted in her back being broken in two places, but it had also been responsible for some of the muscles being pierced and/or severed by bone fragments. This just wasn’t something you could quickly recover from.

Seth had to admit that didn’t keep Sprite from trying. She was determined to touch those toes of hers by the end of the session and since Seth knew how important a milestone it would be for her, he was doing his best to give her all the encouragement and support she needed.

He could almost see her gathering herself mentally and emotionally for one final stretch, a last ditch attempt. He smiled, knowing she was going to make it. And when her fingertips brushed the tops of her toes, if only for a second, he cheered aloud.

Sprite slowly straightened back up, her face red with exertion but covered with a huge grin. Placing her hands on the top of the massage table, she used it for support as she rested.

It was times like these that Seth loved being a physical therapist. It was hard, sweaty work. Often, you got cussed out and verbally abused by those you were trying to help. You spent time causing people even more pain than they had already been through. But who cared when you were rewarded with a smile and a look of accomplishment like that?

Seth stepped forward and carefully helped Sprite up onto the massage table. Her breathing was still heightened and her muscles still trembling. He turned to place the bottle of massage oil in the warmer and grab a towel she could wrap around herself.

As he did so, he heard a rustling sound. When he turned back, it was to the sight of Sprite very calmly stripping herself. She had already removed her top and was now trying to divest herself of her sweatpants. Once she was done, she calmly sat there in her panties and sports bra.

"Umm, Sprite, don’t you want a towel or covering or something?"

"Why?" Sprite asked. "It’s not like I have anything you or anyone who has seen a movie hasn’t seen. Besides, you’re not interested in what I have anyway. I might be worried if I were a straight male, but since I’m not I think I’m safe."

Seth stared at her in shock. This was the first time that she had made a comment about anything to do with his sexuality. Up until now, while they had joked and teased each other, playing around as they worked, neither of them had said anything remotely personal.

Sprite burst out laughing. "Oh, Seth, Hon, I wish you could see your face!" she exclaimed, her shoulders shaking in mirth. "I’ll only say this. Your bedroom is next to mine and if you want to keep your homosexuality a secret, don’t shout out Dillon’s name during the middle of your wet dreams!"

Feeling red creep into his cheeks, Seth thankfully turned toward the warmer as it buzzed. "How do you know Dillon isn’t a woman? That’s a name that can be either."

"True," Sprite answered, turning gingerly over onto her stomach. "But I can’t imagine you telling a woman that you love her cock."

Seth’s hand spasmed on the bottle of oil he had just opened and some shot out, spraying onto the floor. That was it! His cheeks felt so hot he expected them to burst into flames at any moment!

**

Dillon carefully buttoned the last button on his shirt. Then, he ran his hands slowly up the placat, making sure that each button was inserted into its matching hole. He couldn’t believe how complicated buttoning his own shirt was now that he couldn’t tell if he was doing it right.

Once he was satisfied, he turned and carefully made his way into the bathroom adjoining his bedroom. His brush was placed neatly to the left of the counter where he was able to find it.

Prior to the accident, he hadn’t been a slob, but he hadn’t been a neat freak either. Things were put away or sitting neatly out, but not always in the same place. Recently, though, he had learned how much easier his life could be made if things were replaced exactly where they belonged.

Running the brush through his hair, he attempted to get it neat. It was difficult to tell, but once it felt to him like his hair was not standing on end, he figured that would be good enough.

He was taking more care with his appearance tonight than he had in a long time. Other than doctor’s appointments and time spent with his friends, he hadn’t been going out at all. Tonight, however, he started his Braille classes and he wanted to look his best since he would be meeting new people.

Then something hit him. It was a Braille class. The majority of people in it were bound to be blind! They weren’t going to care what he looked like! Dillon smiled sheepishly and grabbing his cane, carefully made his way toward the door.

Nurse Sterning was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Once she saw him coming, she announced that she was going out to start the car. Dillon felt that was a little premature since he still had to make it down the stairs, but he didn’t argue.

Reaching the lower landing, he counted the steps to take him to the hall table. His questing fingers quickly found his wallet and house keys. Once he was ready, he moved forward and opened the screen door. Locking the door behind him, he made his way out into the early evening air.

Nurse Sterning’s car was softly chugging away. It was accompanied by the sound of the grasshoppers and cicadas, newly awoken, rubbing their legs together. As Dillon maneuvered his way down the path toward the car, he heard a mosquito buzzing near his ear and impatiently swatted it away.

Grasping the door handle of the old Chevy Caprice that Nurse Sterning drove, Dillon moved to sit in the car. As usual, he knocked himself on the head. He tried so hard not to do that, but somehow he managed it every time. Of course, it would be easier if Nurse Sterning would watch him slide into the car like Seth used to do and let him know if he was too high or low. Unfortunately, Nurse Sterning wasn’t that concerned with his welfare.

The community center where Dillon’s class was being held wasn’t far from Dillon’s house. The trip there was made in silence other than the evangelist preaching on the radio. After riding in Nurse Sterning’s car several times, he had been tempted to ask if there was an all-evangelical radio station in the area, since he couldn’t remember her ever having anything else on.

Personally, Dillon didn’t get into evangelists. He didn’t enjoy being told that he was a sinner just because he existed and he really didn’t agree that he could buy redemption by sending some stranger 40% of his earnings every month.

That didn’t mean Dillon felt all evangelists should be stopped from preaching. He figured the institution continued to survive because of the few truly genuine people, not because of the shysters.

Upon arriving at the community center, Nurse Sterning parked the car and led Dillon into the building. She walked a bit faster than he was comfortable with and failed to tell him when to step up onto the sidewalk, so he ended up stumbling a bit as he entered the building, the door catching him on the back of his heels as it swung shut.

Nurse Sterning stopped for a moment, before turning to the left and leading him down the hall. Turning to the right, she proceeded through a doorway, Dillon’s shoulder hitting the doorjamb.

Dillon found himself seated at a table. He wasn’t sure if it was at the front or the back of the room, but he could tell that there were others sitting around the table as well. Nurse Sterning informed him she would be back in two hours and then left.

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