Justice(?)

Day 46

That night, Jack returned to his dorm, had a very sound and exhausted sleep, woke at the (for him) very late hour of 9AM, and spent the morning and most of the afternoon studying. Then, following his doctor's advice, he wandered a bit farther off-campus than he usually did in search of a bar where he could be alone with his thoughts. A couple of blocks past his regular haunts, he found a likely watering hole called The Hideout. Inside, he found a mix of blue- and white-collar men, mostly older than he was. Most paid him little attention as he sat out of the way at the end of the bar and ordered a draft beer. He was about halfway through his drink, however, when a man - perhaps 5 years his senior - spotted him and took the adjoining stool.

"I haven't seen you here before, have I? May I Join you?"

"I guess. I'm not very good company now, though."

"I thought you looked a bit down," the stranger replied. "Anything I can do to help? I'll leave you alone, if you like, but you look like you're on the verge of tears. What's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong... and nothing. I don't know why, but every now and then I... I just... just can't help but cry." Jack took a strong pull at his beer, nearly emptying his glass. "This isn't like me at all, and I hate myself for it, but I can't seem to stop!"

"Here, now... steady. George, give me another beer, and one for my friend."

"Friend? But you don't even know me."

"Ryan Williams. And you are..?"

"Jack Mason."

"Like the quarterback? Huh, you even look a little like him. Is he a cousin or something?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Well, I can't leave a cousin of Brick Mason feeling low. I made $20 because of him at the USC game. Drink up, Jack. Can I call you Jacky, just so I can keep the two of you straight in my head?"

"Call me whatever you like," Jack said, finishing off his drink. "Like my dad used to say, 'just don't call me late for dinner.' That used ta be... one of his fave... fav'rite sayings."

"My dad had the same saying. He used to... say, Jacky, are you OK?"

"I don'... don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna.."

"Here, let's get you to the john. C'mon... that-a-boy."

With Ryan's help, Jack just made it to the toilet before spewing his beer, and his dinner, into the receptacle. After a minute, he shakily stood and made his apologies to Ryan.

"I guess the doc was right. With all the changes that have happened lately, I need to relearn how much I can hold."

"Are you going to be alright? Do you need a place to sleep tonight?"

"No, I'll be fine. I just need to call an Uber and get some rest."

"You're sure? It's no problem."

"I'm sure. Thanks, though. Can I meet you again some time? I'd like a chance to repay the favor and show I'm not the complete wuss I appeared to be tonight."

"Sure. I'm here most nights. The Hideout is one of the best bars in town for people like us."

Day 47

Jack woke Sunday morning to a dry mouth and a mild hangover. ("Hangover? I never have hangovers!") The remainder of the day was spent alternately resting and studying. It wasn't until mentally reviewing the events of the previous day before sleeping that he stopped to ponder something Ryan had said.

"I wonder what he meant: 'The Hideout is one of the best bars in town for people like us.' People like what 'us'?"

Day 48

Monday, Jack was back in classes, relieved that he was finally getting back up to speed with his course work. He didn't exactly avoid his friends, but he didn't follow his regular habits, either. He stayed in the background most of the time, vaguely ashamed of the way he looked. And when people he didn't really know approached, he avoided eye contact. He recognized that he was withdrawing from his usual life, but didn't know how to correct that, short of returning to the way things used to be... and he had no idea how to accomplish that.

By Monday night, Jack was feeling lonely and isolated. He accepted that he was the main cause of that, but he had always had his physical prowess and good looks to pave the way for him, and now...

He suddenly thought of The Hideout. Ryan had been friendly towards him, regardless of how he looked. Ryan had called him 'friend' without buttering him up or asking anything in return. The Hideout suddenly appeared to be an excellent place to spend a lonely Monday evening.

Twenty minutes later, Jack was walking through the door of the bar, hoping to see Ryan's face in the dimly lit interior.

"Jacky!! Hey, I was hoping you'd be back. How are you feeling tonight?"

"Hello, Ryan. I'm feeling much better than the last time you saw me. I'm thinking maybe I should talk things out, like you said... with someone I trust. I kinda got the impression that might be you. Do you mind listening to me vent for a bit?"

"I don't mind at all... anything to help out a friend. Here, let me buy you a beer. George! A couple of beers here. And Jacky, I do mean one beer. We don't need a repeat of last time."

Jack waited for his beer and took a sip before saying anything. "I appreciate that, Ryan, and I do want to explain. You see, there have been some big changes in my life recently. I didn't always look the way I do now, and I just don't know how to deal with the way things are now. I used to know what to expect, of myself and of others. I thought I knew where I was headed in life, I thought I knew what I was going to be, what I was going to do... And now, I feel like I don't know anything."

"I think I understand, Jacky. I've known a few other people in your situation, and I hate to see anyone suffering the way you seemed to be earlier."

"No, I don't think you do understand. I don't know that anybody can understand, but I think if anyone could, it would be someone like you. I can't go to my old friends and tell them, they would NOT understand at all. The things I've had happen to me... the changes I'm going through... I'm afraid that if I told them, they'd push me away. I know I would have, before."

"Then why don't you tell me about it. Look, if you don't want to talk here, why don't we go somewhere more private? My place isn't far. I have an extra beer or two in the fridge, we can put on a movie until you're ready to talk - or not talk at all, if you're not ready. What do you say?"

"I hate to impose..."

"Not another word. You're not imposing. C'mon, leave your beer and let's go. George, put this on my tab?"

It was a two-block walk through the darkening streets of town, and the two men traveled it in a comfortable silence. When they arrived, Ryan opened the door and turned on the lights. "Have seat. Can I get you anything? A beer? Some popcorn, perhaps?"

"I'll take the beer, and some popcorn might be nice."

"Should I put on a movie, or do you feel like sharing some of your story?"

"We can just talk, if you don't mind. I really feel I should explain what happened the other night."

"Explain away," Ryan said as he re-entered the room and handed Jack a beer.

"Well, my doctor told me I should limit myself to one beer a night, at least until I learn my new tolerance levels. I suppose I should have listened to him, but..."

"But I came barging into your life and practically forced a beer on you there at The Hideout. I'm so sorry."

"You had no way of knowing."

"You say your doctor warned you? What did he have to do with it?"

"Yes, Dr. Tucker said that with all the weight I lost recently, my alcohol tolerance may be way off."

"Tucker? I've heard of him. A very good man in his two or three areas of specialization, from what I hear."

"Two or three? Don't doctors usually have just one specialty?"

"Usually, but he feels there are a couple areas with so much overlap that it just made sense to combine specialties. And it helps that he has enough brains to handle more than one specialty at a time. Did he tell you anything else?"

"I think he said something about my hormone levels possibly having an effect, too.""

"I see," Ryan said, getting up. "I just heard the microwave, so the popcorn should be done. I'll be right back."

Jack was relaxing on the couch with his head back, but he flinched when a bowl full of popcorn brushed against his chest.

"I'm sorry, are you OK? Let me guess: nipples a bit tender, maybe itchy now and then?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. I've seen a few friends go through the same thing. I have something that will probably help. Just a sec."

Ryan got up and returned a few moments later with a small bottle of baby lotion in his hand.

"I thought I had some of this left after Chris's last visit. Take off your shirt."

"What?!" Jack blushed. "Why? I mean... I... I.."

"Jacky, relax. I said I've seen this sort of thing before. I think I know just what to do. Now I'll put on something mindless on TV, you lie down with your head on my lap, and I'll do my part to make you feel better. If you don't like it, I'll stop and you can do it yourself at home, but I've been told I'm pretty good at this. Just drink your beer, eat your popcorn, watch the show and let me fix you up. OK?"

Jack said nothing but hesitantly did as he was told. Within moments, Ryan had applied a few drops of the oil to the itchy nips and then proceeded to gently spread it around using one finger. Jack had to admit that the relief was almost immediate, soon was relaxing and letting the beer and the soothing sensation wash away his embarrassment and remaining reluctance. By the end of the TV program, Jack was feeling better than he had since... well, since the game.

"Want another beer, Jacky?"

"I better not. I'm not even buzzed right now, but I'd rather not take any chances. Besides, I have class in the morning. I'd better be getting back."

"Chest feeling better, at least?"

"Oh, hell yes! Thanks, Ryan. You've been a real friend."

"No problem, my friend. Come back and see me if you need another treatment."

Jack walked back to his dorm in a sort of warm glow. He had always made friends rather easily, but Ryan... Ryan was exceptional. He felt closer to Ryan than he did to guys he had known for years. And there was nobody, other than his doctor or his minister, that he trusted more. Jack couldn't say why, exactly, but he felt that Ryan would be his friend regardless of circumstances, and that anything he said or shared with the other man was safer than with a lawyer.

Day 50

Tuesday and Wednesday were a return to near-normality, with Jack finally getting caught up on his course work. Socially he was still withdrawn, but he was obviously making progress physically. He was still doing pushups, sit-ups and chin-ups in the privacy of his own room and running in the early morning, but he was pleased that he was, at last able to run completely across the campus without stopping. He was so encouraged by this that he resolved to take his Friday morning workout at the gym.

Day 51

Jack was still reluctant to display his diminished physique in a locker room setting, so he showed up at the gym early Friday already in a sweat suit. Almost immediately, his dorm neighbor spotted him and came over.

"Hey, Brick. Good to see you again. I haven't noticed at the gym since you got back."

"Hi, JoJo. No, I wanted to keep a low profile for awhile. I don't want anyone to see what a scarecrow I've become. What with the way I look now and the way I'm having a meltdown over little things, I guess I've been avoiding the team for now. You haven't told anyone what happened at the dorm, have you?"

"Me? I'm almost insulted. I would never do anything like that to you... you should know that."

"Sorry, JoJo... I'm just really sensitive right now. I guess that's a big part of the problem, huh? So, you spot me? I'm not really up to handling the heavy stuff yet, but I thought I'd try working out with some hand weights for now."

"Sure, Brick. Glad to help. I'm actually a bit surprised at how far back you've come in such a short time. Just a week ago, you were nothing but skin and bones... a regular '98-pound weakling.' You still have a ways to go, but you can at least see where the muscles are going to be when you get them."

"Thanks for the encouragement... I think. C'mon, let's go work out

30 minutes later, Jack had reached the point of exhaustion. He hadn't quite achieved any of the goals he had set for himself, but he was so tired his hands were shaking and he could barely lift them to wipe the sweat out of his eyes.

"Hey, Jack... that's enough, dude. You try any more today and you'll start breaking down the muscles instead of building them up. OK?"

"Yeah.." pant "you're right. I'm just..." pant "really out.. of shape."

"Say, Jack... I really hate to say this, but...," JoJo's voice dropped to a whisper. "You need to start working on the legs, man. Your arms and shoulders are coming along, but to tell you the truth... you're starting to look a little plump in the backfield. Haven't you been jogging or anything?"

Jack blushed slightly. "I have been, but maybe I need to push a bit harder in that department. I guess I haven't been paying that much attention. Thanks."

With his teammate's words still on his mind, Jack dragged himself back to his dorm room and made a thorough inspection in his mirror. What he saw there so shocked him, he made an emergency call to Dr. Tucker.

"Doc," he said in a slightly panicked voice, "I really need to see you. I think I need another shot or something."

"Jack... Jack... calm down. What seems to be the problem?"

"Look, doc, I know what you said before, but I know that my dick is getting smaller! I was never a porn star in that department, but I used to have a good nine inches. And now, I'm down to about four inches, and I swear to God it's skinnier than it was!"

"Jack, I'm reluctant to give you more testosterone this soon. As I explained before...."

"I know what you said before... but it also looks like my nut are shrinking, too! Doc, what's happening to me?!?"

"Take it easy, Mr. Mason! I'll tell you what: come by my office at home this evening, and I'll take a blood sample. If your hormone levels justify it, I'll give you another testosterone injection tomorrow. Will that satisfy you?"

"Yeah, I... I guess so, doc. I'm sorry to be such a... I don't know... a pushy patient, I guess you'd say. But this is my life, doc!"

"I believe I understand, Mr. Mason. Just come see me tonight, and we'll see what can be done."

A couple hours later, Jack was at Dr. Tucker's door. The doctor opened the door and said, "Come back to my office. I'll draw the blinds, while you get undressed so I can examine you."

"Do I have to, doc?"

"Only if you want my help. I know it's likely embarrassing, especially with the physical changes you say you're experiencing, but I need to make my own assessment.

"Ah, I see now what you were talking about. This is, indeed, more of a change in both length and girth than would normally be seen with a mere change in blood flow to the phallus. And there does seem to be some diminishing of the testes, as well. Let me get a blood sample from you, then come back and see me tomorrow about 10AM. I'll check your hormone levels and run a couple other tests, and I believe I will likely be administering a second testosterone injection at that time."

Five minutes and a band-aid later, Jack was walking in the direction of The Hideout. He needed to talk to someone, and Ryan was the only person he felt he could trust.

As soon as he walked through the door of the bar, Jack started scanning the room for his friend. He was successful within moments, despite the crowd that was thicker than on previous occasions. "Ryan," he called out. "Can I talk to you?"

Ryan turned away from the woman he had been chatting with. "Jacky! I wondered when... Jacky? Are you OK? What's wrong?"

"Ryan, can we go to your place? I need to talk, and this place is way too crowded."

"Sure, sure. Let me just say goodbye to Nicky. She's been having trouble with her boyfriend, but you look like you need me more than she does right now."

Ryan went back to the bar and spoke a couple words to the woman, then turned around and grabbed Jack's elbow, leading him to the door. Once outside, he turned to the younger man and asked, "Now, what has you so upset? We can talk on the way."

"I just left my doctor's office, and I'm really worried."

"Dr. Tucker, you mean? Why, what's happened? Bad news?"

"Well... I don't know how to say this, exactly. You see, I don't mean to brag. But I used to be... I guess you'd say... successful with women. I had a girlfriend, lots of other options, all that sort of thing. But now...? The way I look and all? I'm not sure any girl would want to be with me."

"What's wrong with the way you look?"

"Well...if nothing else... I can trust you, right? You won't spread this around?"

"Jacky! Of course you can trust me! What's the problem?"

Well..." Jack blushed, "God, this is hard to say! Well... if nothing else, my dick is getting smaller. I was never the 'tall, dark and handsome' type, being only 5'7". But at least the women knew that I had it where it counted, you know? And now..."

"Jacky, is that all that's worrying you? You think you're never going to be loved?"

"Well... sort of, yeah," Jack whispered.

"Well, if that's all that has you on the verge of tears, take heart! You've just been hanging out with the wrong sort of people. Look, when I get you to my place, I'll get on the phone and make some calls. I'm pretty sure I can get you laid tonight, if that's all you need."

"No, I don't want any hook..."

"Stop, right there! Don't you say it! I'm not talking about whores. But I know some ladies who care more about a person than cock size. I know one or two that have lost their boyfriends recently and would love to meet someone like you. Are you game?"

Jack smiled wanly, "You could say 'game' is my middle name."

"Alright, then. Now, wipe off that lost look and show a little confidence! That's right, give me a smile. You'll see, you have nothing to worry about."

When they got to Ryan's place, Ryan immediately went to his phone, but Jack stopped him. "I know what you said, but... I don't want to sound like I'm coming on to you, but can I show you what I'm talking about before you call?"

"If it will make you feel any better, sure. Let me close the drapes, first... OK, go ahead."

Jack hesitated, then turned toward Ryan and dropped his pants and underwear. "See?"

Ryan smiled. "You think you need to be hung like a horse to be attractive? Here, let me show you what I mean." With that, he opened his own pants, revealing a penis that was scarcely larger than Jack's. "Now, pull up your pants and let me make some calls."

The older man thought for a moment, then started dialing. "Hello, Tiffany? Hey, Tiff, how's your love life these days? (pause) Yes, I know Charley left you, the fool. Look, I need a favor. (pause) No, not me. There's somebody I want you to meet. I met Jacky at The Hideout. (pause) No, this is somebody new. We met at The Hideout about a week ago, a real nice person. One of Dr. Tucker's patients, I think. (pause) Well, Jacky is feeling a bit unlovable right now, and I thought of you right away. Are you doing anything tonight? (pause) Good, then I glad I caught you before you left. You remember where my place is, don't you? (pause) Alright, can I expect you in... what? Twenty minutes? Great, see you when you get here.

"Jacky, I hope you like redheads." Jack nodded. "Then you're in luck. Tiff's a real doll. Her boyfriend left a few months ago, and she hasn't been able to find anyone since. Can I get you a beer?"