Blind Faith

I went with him to the hospital, sat with him and his family after he was checked in. I stayed with him that night, holding him on the hospital bed, waiting for the dawn and the coming surgery. Did you know that twelve hours is subjective? The first twelve hours I spent in bed with Rafe passed by in mere seconds. The twelve hours of his surgery was longer than my first year at college. I watched a clock tick. Each second took the same length of time to tick off, but actually watching the clock made it seem to take longer. The scheduled time for the surgery was only eight hours. Each minute longer, made my chest tighten. I couldn't swallow because my mouth was dry. I couldn't cry because I hadn't blinked in too long and my eyes were dry. At just over twelve hours, the doctor came out. He told us that the surgery was a success. They got the entire tumor. But, the surgery forced them to sever the optic nerve to his right eye. He was going to be 50% blind no matter how much he recovered. There was also post-surgical swelling and he wasn't coherent of any events of the past five years. Which means he thought he was still in the closet. He didn't know I knew how he felt. He didn't know that I had fallen in love with him. In his mind, he was still this scared guy, too afraid to tell his best friend he was gay and in love with him. The tears did come then.

As Rafael's mother went in to see him, his father stayed with me. He hugged me and rocked me. He had always been like this with me. From the moment my parents died, Rafe's parents took me under their wing. And since the day we told them that we were together, just a few days ago, I became one of their heart's concerns. My hurt was theirs.

Since Rafe was in intensive care, they have a policy of family only for visitors. So it took several hours before I could go in to see him. He was asleep when I finally did. I just sat by his side and held his hand. When I was forced from the room, I sat nearby, waiting until I could go back. And I did. Day after day, hour after hour while he slowly recovered from the ordeals of surgery. His body slowly healed. But his mind still needed time to recover. He was able to recall just a bit more time each day. But he didn't remember us being together. The doctors didn't want us to remind him, adding memories, hoping that they would return on their own without prompting. It was hell. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to kiss him. But he wasn't ready. In his mind, I was still rebuffing him. In his mind, he hadn't even told me that he loved me yet.

Rafe needed therapy. He needed to learn how to live without depth perception. He only had one working eye and his vision had become bad. Light and dark, shadows and blurs were just about all he saw. He's a librarian. He loves books more than anything, and he might never recover enough sight to ever read them again. But it was taken out of my hands. His doctors decided he needed to go to a rehab center. Because of the enabling tendencies of loved ones, no visitors would be allowed for the first two weeks and then for only one hour a day for the following month. Those two weeks were hell. I went back to work, but I just played at it. I wasn't doing any good there, but I needed to have something to kill my time.

My first visit, nineteen days after I had last seen him, Rafe remembered that he had told me he loved me. I wanted so badly to tell him how much things had changed, but they asked me not to. It was killing me. I just wanted to hold him and kiss him, just a simple brush of lips. But I didn't. I stayed in the chair by his side and talked. I told him that I was still his friend, no matter what. I also told him that it didn't matter how he felt about me, I was never going to turn away from him. I left after my allotted hour, feeling lost and hurting. It was six more days before I got to go back.

It was on my third visit that Rafe remembered telling me he couldn't be near me anymore because of how bad it hurt. He asked me to go and not come back. I got so frustrated and hurt that I lashed out and told him that things were different. I told him that I loved him.

"You can't love me John. You're straight."

"I may have been. But all that has changed. I love you, damn it!"

He got real sad and he looked like he was going to cry. "Don't do this John. Don't lie to me because I'm sick. I love you too much and I want for it to be true too much. Don't hurt me like this."

I actually felt the tears sting my eyes. I realized now how much my inability to say just a few words to him three years ago had hurt him. "But I do love you, Rafael. I do. So very much."

I watched as the first tear rolled down his cheek. Followed by a second, then a third. I watched his throat bob as he swallowed the emotion. "Stop it John! Don't do this to me. I'm confused enough as it is."

That made me angry. I was so frustrated. All I have wanted to do for the past three months is hold him. I walked right up to him, grabbed his chin a bit too roughly, and kissed him. Almost immediately, my anger cooled and my mouth moved over his gently. My lips coaxed his and my tongue traced the seam of his mouth. I heard the sob he let out and then he met me, embroiled in kissing me just as hard and needy as I was. He was sitting on his bed and I knelt down between his legs so we were more evenly matched, so we could kiss better, longer. I had been starving for his touch, ever needful of his love. When we broke apart, I wrapped my arms around his back and rested my head against his chest, my ear pressed to his wildly beating heart. His hands trembled as he stroked my hair and rubbed my shoulder.

"I've missed you so much Rafael. I want you to remember the time we spent together. But if you never do, remember always that I love you. Please?"

"When did this happen?"

"Not until a few weeks before your surgery. For that and that alone I am sorry. If only I had known..."

I looked up at him. The look of wonder on his face was endearing. I brushed my lips against his again, gently, lovingly. "I want to make love with you, Rafe."

"John, I uh... What I mean is... I've never been... uh..."

"Are you trying to tell me you're a virgin?"

"Yes."

"No you're not. Not anymore."

"Oh. Well then I wish I remembered it."

"We can make new memories, Rafael. Or we can wait and see if the old ones return. I wouldn't mind recreating our first time."

"Is it a good memory?"

"Oh, yes. It was one of my best memories."

"So I was good?"

"Are you doubting your appeal?" I couldn't help tease him.

"No, I just, wanted it to be special. It's not new for you."

"Oh, Rafe..." And I was kissing him. I pulled him to me and touched his face and kissed his throat, biting and nibbling at the tender flesh. He arched his neck and moaned, low and deep. I felt it vibrate through me from where we touched. I was so hard. I just wanted to make love to him again. Then his words registered. He didn't want it to be new for just him. The idea shocked me. But I couldn't disagree with him. There were a few boundaries we hadn't crossed. My virginity was still a fact. He had never been inside me. In this way it could be both of our first times.

I stood and went to the bathroom, hoping to find a little aid. When I got back to the room, Rafe was still sitting on the bed, trying to figure out what I was doing. His vision wasn't fully restored yet. He had a pair of glasses that corrected many problems, but he was still unsure of some details. I have never found him more attractive, he was truly beautiful. He looked at me so lovingly, with complete trust in his eyes. I was so hard I thought I might cum before I even got started. The bed was a double, not that big, but big enough for what we would need. Plus it would give us incentive to snuggle afterwards. I went and locked the door then sat by Rafe on the bed. I placed my Vaseline on the side table and took his hands. Then I ran my fingers up his arm until I reached the buttons of his shirt. I undid the first one and then kissed what had been revealed. I continued undoing the buttons, one after the other, kissing a trail down his body as each left its clasp. I could feel him tremble beneath my fingers and lips. I pulled his shirt off his arms and out of his waistband. His nipples were puckered and hard. I kissed each before latching on to one with my mouth, laving it with my tongue before sucking hard at it. Rafe moaned and grabbed my head with his hands. I could feel him hard against my arm where it lay in his lap. I pulled back and undid his belt and removed it and his pants, leaving him in tented, white briefs. I stood with him as I pulled the bedding down and pushed him back down. Then I shucked my own clothes, stripping down hurriedly to my underwear. Then I was by his side, pulling his body to me.

I reveled in the wonderful sensation of his warm, smooth skin against mine. I felt each and every hair on his body caress me with its, shiny, feathery feel. Then I pulled back and lay by his side. I almost took over and this was meant to be his show.

"You're in charge Rafael." I hardly recognized my voice. It had grown deep and gravelly from arousal.

"What do you mean?" His own voice was gruff and he was breathing heavy.

"This is the first time for you to remember. It's mine as well. Make love to me."

"Why is it your first time, too?"

"This will be the first time you will make love to me. Before, well, I was a little selfish and was always doing the making. I'm sorry."

He actually grinned and I was reminded again of the Rafael I knew in college. Not the hurt man I spurned and not the scared friend I fell in love with. He had turned twenty-six a few months ago. I was twenty-five. We had years together and I promised myself right then and there that he would always remain that happy, sweet, wonderful man I first met in college. No more pain, at least none caused by me. I pulled him down and kissed him. I ran my hands over his body, feeling him stroke and feel mine in return. I felt him graze my nipples with his fingers and arched my back at the sensation. Then he tasted them. Each one got a perusal with both fingers and mouth. Then he was nipping my belly and stroking my legs. When he reached the waistband of my briefs, he grabbed it with his teeth and pulled them down me. I lost my briefs and I felt Rafe nuzzle my scrotum with his lips and nose. Then he moved down below and started to nibble on the hard ridge leading to my ass. Then he licked me. I almost shot off the bed.

He kept moving lower and lower, nipping my with his lips and teeth, licking at me with his warm, wet tongue. He used his hands to lift my thighs, to get a better angle. Then he was doing incredible things to my hole with his tongue. He lapped at me in strong, wet strokes, sucking and nibbling at the ring. I felt myself open to his ministrations. And then he was licking inside me. The pleasure was something I had never known before. I was so on edge, but I couldn't trip. He had my hands locked in his, holding my legs up and out. I couldn't reach my cock and I wanted so badly to give myself the couple of strokes needed to trip over the edge. But I didn't. He kept at me, licking and nibbling, pausing from time to time to pull back and huff warm air against me. I felt my hole gaping, begging, opening and contracting, begging for more. I felt Rafe reach for the Vaseline and felt him smear some of the greasy jelly around me. Then his finger slipped inside. He moved it against the top of my channel. I felt the pressure of his finger against my ring. Then he brushed something deep inside and I whimpered. He did it again. Then he did it again. I felt my eyes roll up into the back of my head. I was so turned on, I felt like I was going to cum any second. I pulled off his finger.

At Rafe's questioning look I told him I was too close. He grinned at me and I watched as he peeled off his briefs. He was big. I felt a moment of panic: that is going inside me? Then I looked down at my own cock. It was just as thick and even a bit longer and he had taken all of me. I pushed my worries aside as I reached out and dipped my fingers in the open jar. I reached for Rafe and stroked him, smearing the jelly up and down his length. He moaned and grabbed my wrist, stopping me from pushing him too far. Then he moved so he lay on top of me, with my hips bracing his body. He lowered his chest onto mine and I felt his cock rest against me. He kissed me deeply as he pushed forward. I willed myself to take him. And I did. I opened and he slid deeply inside me. I felt full. I felt overfilled. Then he slipped further and brushed against something that made me tremble with sensations. My prostate I believe. I was on edge already. He gave me a couple of quick, hard thrusts to seat him. But it was one thrust too many and I exploded. I felt the orgasm build deeply inside and erupt between us. I cried out and felt myself clamp Rafe's shaft. He quieted above me, watching me in wonder.

"Was that supposed to happen?"

"I don't know. First time, remember?"

"Oh yeah." And he grinned. Then he pushed forward some more. He hit that spot again. I was still twitching from my release, still feeling aftershocks, quaking in sated bliss. But he moved out and then slid back. The jelly did its trick and helped me take him. He rocked into me, harder and faster. His breath was rapid and started to hitch. He made a low, growling keening sound in his throat. I felt him thicken and his movements became jerky, less controlled. Then he stopped and gasped as I felt him twitch hard inside me. I felt each spasm rack his thick shaft as he spewed his essence deep inside me. He moaned nice and deep with each wave of pleasure. When the last spurt left him, when he was drained, he collapsed against me. I felt his body start to relax. His arms hung loosely on either side of me. His neck lacked any strength and his head rested on my shoulder. His legs lay loosely in the cradle of my own. He was totally relaxed in all areas but one. He was still at full staff inside me. It wasn't going down. Neither was I. I understood. I was so hard after my first time with him. But Rafe was asleep. His body was fully cradled by mine and I held him tight.

He woke a few minutes later, looking sated and sleepy. I kissed his forehead, then his nose. He grinned at me and I felt him twitch inside me. He looked in my eyes and thrust into me, rocking into me. I was still so hard, wedged between our bellies. He moved harder and faster and I was building again. I didn't know how good this could feel. I didn't realize that there was anything sexual other than a cock. Now I knew so much more. There was ass and balls, nipples and mouth. We were going for broke. I felt him thicken again. I knew he was going to cum. I was close; I could feel the buildup to orgasm. He pushed hard against my belly, forcing more sensation into my cock. With three more heavy thrusts, I came again, feeling each spasm milk his body. I clenched his body with my own and felt him release deep inside me. When we came down from the high, I looked at the clock and almost laughed. Between the two rounds and the short nap, only twenty minutes had passed since we had started. I can't complain; we had both cum twice. Maybe in the future we would be able to draw it out longer, but I don't really see the need. It was enough. It was more than enough. It was perfect.

We cleaned up a bit and lay in the bed talking and touching. After a while, I spooned up behind him, holding him in my arms, grateful that we had found each other again. He had been lost to me, but he was back in my arms. He wasn't leaving them again. The next morning, Rafe's doctors weren't overly pleased with me. But that same day he remembered more than he had previously. He remembered his job in the library. He remembered being diagnosed and the treatments. He recovered almost three years of memories overnight. Upon hearing that, the doctor allowed me to stay more often with Rafe. I got two hours a day instead of just one. It was okay. I wanted more, but now that we had reached a new understanding, I could wait for Rafe to recover.

Two weeks later, he remembered our first time. He told me he didn't think I was selfish at all. That night we celebrated with a reenactment. But this time I put the knowledge I had gained from Rafe to use. We were both able to pleasure each other so well. Each time was better and better as we learned new things. Each touch and caress was special. I don't think sex would ever pale with us. Because emotions were tied into the act, it became so much more than mere sex for both of us.

His vision is still not what it was. He needs to wear glasses to see clearly, but he can see. He has a problem with depth perception and can no longer drive a car. But he still works in the library, reading books and helping others find the wonders of the written word. But I like how he looks with glasses. Every once in a while, he will seem to lose a day or two out of his memory, but it doesn't last long. We were told it was just part of the recovery process.

Six months after the surgery, we got married. Not that it is legal, but we had a simple ceremony with family and a few friends. I never would have thought that this is what I wanted. But I do. We honeymooned in Mexico. We found this really secluded beach up the Baja coast and found out how much fun making love in the sand can be. It has been almost thirteen years since that day he showed up at my door, asking for his simple favor. I still feel the scar every time I run my fingers through his hair and I am reminded of how precious each day is. And because I am so happy, I am more appreciative of the rare beauty that has inhabited my soul because somehow, my best friend decided to love me.