Shooting Matt Ch. 14

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Matt gets out of the hospital. Kent hits a bump in the road.
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Part 14 of the 28 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 08/17/2016
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Turbidus
Turbidus
1,092 Followers

I greatly appreciate all the kind words and comments about my story. I am sorry that I haven't had the time to devote to it lately. Please accept that as an explanation not an excuse.

LarryInSeattle pointed out that even fans of the story may well have lost track of the characters. I have no problem believing that -- I've lost track of the characters. I live in fear of continuity errors.

So, here we go, the cast of characters so far:

Randy Bigland -- middle-aged, divorced, father of one, amateur photography and boxer whose life has been drifting past him as he works in a warehouse after losing his job in a car factory. He is bisexual. His ex-wife is a substance abuser and not a very nice person. He agrees to photograph Matt Synder, an acquaintance of his son's and a college swimmer. Randy was raised by a single mother. He's only real interest has been his son. He's lived his life terrified of being poor and is an obsessive saver, except what he couldn't keep out of Mary Beth's hands.

Mary Beth -- Randy's ex-wife, mostly notable for messing up a possible college relationship between Randy and Leon. The three of them had sex together until Leon fled her poisonous personality. She's struggled with addiction all her life.

Matt Synder -- swimmer, long hair and gay, he's infatuated with Randy but quickly develops a very deep interest in Randy's son, Liam. He's a rising college sophomore.

Liam Bigland - Randy's son, gay and high-school swimmer with Matt. Like Matt, at the end of the summer he will be a college sophomore. Liam has anger issues. Like his dad he likes to box. He's infatuated with Matt and both feel guilty about hurting Randy, though it was his father who insisted the two of them test the waters with each other.

Leon "Lee" Anderson -- gay man, hooked up with Randy and, reluctantly with Mary Beth, in college. He's now married to Glenna. He has anger issues as well.

Glenna "Nena" Anderson nee McCormick -- a few years younger than Randy and Leon. Her mother ran the Cedar Lake Lodge in western Pennsylvania where Randy vacationed during the summer while in high school. Randy doesn't discover until our story takes place that the girl he knew as Nena has married Leon. She knows Leon is gay and they have made their peace with that. They have a good life, except they haven't been able to have a child.

Spiritual/supernatural events have been occurring, mostly ignored by the those affected. Randy has "dreamed" of events in Leon's life he can't have known, like how Leon nearly killed himself one night except for the intercession of a mysterious hobo. They share a dream that Randy will father a child for Leon and Glenna. They're able to get cell phone reception where no one else can. They've acted on these events but not delved into them to any extent.

Earlier in the story Matt questioned Leon's acceptance of the fact he's gay and his relationship with Glenna. In a fit of rage, Leon punches him. Matt falls and breaks a vertebra in his back and is taken to a hospital in Pittsburgh. He's cared for by Dr. Price and a nurse named Kent Morris.

Kent Morris -- is also gay (fun how that works in gay erotica). He was in a relationship for eight years with Brad. Brad died of melanoma two years ago. Kent, like Randy, has been drifting and has yet to come to terms with his grief. He and Randy are mutually attracted to one another but Kent's grief is something of a barrier.

Randy, interest in life re-ignited by his fling with Matt, came to Pennsylvania when Matt was hurt. He was in the middle of remodeling his house. He needs to get back to finish the work. Kent took off a few days in the middle of the week and came to Cedar Lake Lodge. Matt and Liam will join the gang once Matt is released from the hospital.

Got it?

Thanks again to LarryInSeattle.

Enjoy

===========

I'm having one of those confused-in-a-strange-room moments when I wake. The arm over my waist is comforting; it's also hot. I'm sweating. For a minute, I imagine it's Leon's, then I remember I never spent a night with him. That fact seems terribly sad. Matt, then, no, Matt's in Pittsburgh. Matt's in Pittsburgh in the hospital. Liam is there as well.

I'm not in Cleveland. I'm in a cabin, at Cedar Lake Lodge. That's why I was thinking of Leon. The arm draped over my waist belongs to Kent. I lie quietly. I can't see a clock from where I'm lying but the room is full of light; it can't be too early. The window shades are up and because the cabin sits near the start of one of the trails, anyone can walk up and stare at the two faggots sleeping together. I don't like that word, but it's the word that pops into my head at moments like this.

Kent's breathing is slow and deep. He's asleep. Most of his arm rests against my belly. He can't be that far from my back. I risk scooting a little, readying myself to give a quick snort and jerk, to pretend I'm just moving in my sleep should he arouse. A knee touches the back of my leg. I pause and listen to his breathing, afraid of waking him. I move my foot back, find one of his. I risk rubbing the top of his foot with my toes. That's all I do for several minutes as I listen to him breathe. I try to feel his breath on my back, on my neck, in my hair but fail.

I move my hips back, ever so slightly. I smile when my butt touches the top of his erection. You simply gotta love morning wood. My smile fades as I hear a catch in his breathing. The arm leaves my waist. His crotch and his boner, press hard against me. His body shudders and I realize he's stretching.

As the shudder fades, his arm falls back over me. He moves closer. I can feel his chest hair against my back. His breathing deepens as he relaxes back into sleep.

Every soft exhalation, tickles the hair on the back of my neck.

I settle deeper into the mattress and relish the sensation of his body next to mine.

***

Randy is not the only one who wakes, unsure of where he's at. Kent is very comfortable. He loves the feel of the hard body next to his. He kisses the back of Brad's neck, wondering where he's been. The still sharp edge of his grief slashes through his half-asleep brain. Brad is dead. He's been dead for over two years. This is the first time he's shared a bed since the last night in the hospital.

Brad had been too far gone to talk. He'd hoped and prayed that he wasn't too far gone to know he was with him. But, if lack of awareness was the price God demands for relief from the pain, he'll pay it and not begrudge the cost. He had lain beside Brad but had not been able to hold him like this.

Brad's bones had been riddled with nests of cancer munching away at his strength. He had been afraid to touch him. Despite the absurd amounts of morphine pouring into Brad's body, he had feared his touch would re-ignite the pain. When Brad's blood pressure began to tank, he climbed into his bed, careful not to jostle him. It hadn't been until they took the breathing tube out and Brad's struggles finally came to an end that he'd allowed himself to wrap his arms around what remained of his lover.

He had not been able to cry then. He hates the idea of crying now, not in front of a stranger. He swallows the sob, squeezing the life out of it with his throat.

***

I can tell when Kent wakes up. He kisses the back of my neck. He stiffens and grows very still. I try to imagine what is going through his mind. Is he angry at himself? At me? I hear a single sob, not even a sob, the strangled start of sob.

I pretend to be asleep. I tell myself it will only embarrass him if I acknowledge what I heard. No man likes anyone to know he's crying. The shudder that shakes his body shakes some sense into me. What the fuck am I doing?

I roll over and open my arms. His head falls on my chest. I wrap my arms around him and let him cry. I rock him in my arms. I don't shush him and tell him the lie that it will be okay. It will be okay but it will never be the same and the hurt will never go away.

He puts a hand on my chest and makes a half-hearted gesture of pushing himself away, mumbling over and over that he's sorry. I keep my arms around him and he relaxes.

***

Randy isn't wrong. Kent is embarrassed when he rolls toward him. But sometimes we hurt too deeply to worry about embarrassment. He allows himself to be comforted, though he can't quite stop himself from apologizing for his need.

He hears voices, not close. Their cabin is the last one on this side of the lodge. He listens to Randy's breathing. He listens to the sound of his own heartbeat in his ear. He feels empty, weightless. If Randy released him, he has no doubt he'd float up to the ceiling. If the ceiling weren't there he'd keep floating, higher and higher until his breath froze and the oxygen disappeared. He'd just keep going, zip past the moon, maybe detour by Saturn. Astronauts always say how beautiful the stars are from space. He'd like to see that.

If only it were that easy. He sighs and rolls free of Randy's embrace.

Without saying a word, Randy rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom. Soon the smell of coffee fills the room, followed by the sizzle and smell of bacon. Kent's stomach growls. He's been hungry but this is the first time he's looked forward to eating since Brad died.

He climbs out of bed and shuffles to the bathroom. His body shivers as his bladder lets go. He washes his hands and then turns on the cold water. He splashes handful after handful onto his face. When he raises up and looks at himself in the mirror, he sees a man flirting with early middle-age. He's sure as hell not a kid anymore. He'll be thirty-six in a couple of months. He'll be closer to forty than thirty. Fuck.

When he opens the door, he sees Randy has pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. He does the same.

"Eggs'll be ready in a second. Scrambled okay?"

"Sure."

"Coffee's ready. Help yourself."

He grabs a mug from the dish drainer and pours a cup. He leans against the counter, watching Randy stir the eggs.

***

Kent watches me stir the eggs. It's an old nonstick skillet that's more stick than non. I have to stir the eggs constantly to keep them from welding themselves to the pan.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You are most welcome," I answer as I divvy up the eggs between the two plates and hand him one. I know he's not thanking me for the eggs. I grab four slices of bacon and a couple slices of toast I've already buttered. Biscuits would have been better but I forgot to buy any.

We eat in silence.

"You're a good cook."

I shake my head. "Maybe, but all you've tasted of mine is a burger, scrambled eggs, and a bacon. It's hard to fuck any of that up."

"Yeah? Then how come so many people do?"

I don't have an answer for that so I keep my mouth shut and eat.

"I'm gonna swing by and say hi to Glenna's mom this morning. I thought I might see if I could still get up on water skis this afternoon. You're welcome to come with me. We could ask Glenna where's a good place for lunch. Or you can relax here and just chill. Totally up to you."

"Do I have time for a shower?"

"Sure. I need one, too. You may have noticed there's no shower in the bathroom. There's a shower room down the hill a ways."

Kent nods. I'm not sure if I should assume he's okay with me hitting the showers with him or if I should ask him if he wants me to wait. It's a question without a good answer. If I ask, it implies he might be interested or that I'm interested. If I don't ask, it implies we're just two dudes taking a shower, like at the gym, and that I'm not interested in anything else. Of more importance, am I interested? Yeah, I decide, I am.

"Not to over think this or anything but it's a communal shower, like high school, not individual stalls. You rather split up? You feel weird showering in front of another dude, not a dude, but a dude who, well I'm not gay but I do enjoy men and I'm fucking babbling, aren't I?"

Kent is smiling. "Yes, you are but it's okay. I would be, too." He shrugs. "No, I don't mind."

Like most issues I've tied myself up in knots over, the shower is anticlimactic. We take a shower. That's it. Well, I manage to notice Kent has a nice, but not ripped, body and a more than adequate dick but that's all. I barely got hard. Honest.

Glenna's mom seems happy to see me. She manages to include Kent in our reminiscences, as befits the former host of a resort lodge. We chat for a half-hour or so and say our good-byes. The Mexican place Glenna recommended is outstanding. I almost decide to forgo water skiing so I can eat more.

Glenna and Leon are free so they join us. Kent looks amazing hot, despite his ordinary body and pale skin. I notice we all seem to be extra careful with the sun screen. I get back into the groove quicker than I had dared hope. I forgot how much I love water skiing. Kent and Leon are both better than me. So is Glenna for that matter, but they're no better than I used to be. That gives me hope.

We spend the entire afternoon on the lake. When we get back, we have a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches in the lodge. We all end up at the fire pit. When Leon lights up a joint and passes it around, no one says anything. A few of the older teens hang around the edge of the fire until they realize we don't bite. The conversation flows into the semi-serious, semi-mystic, mostly full of crap rhythms of the stoned. As we're walking back, I'm startled by the realization that this is very much like the dream we had only Kent wasn't in that dream. Neither were the young people.

I look at Glenna. She smiles.

"I know," she says. "It's okay. It worked."

"How can you know that?" Leon asks, but his tone suggests he agrees with her.

"I had..."

"a dream," I finish for her.

She nods. "Did you?"

"No," I say shaking my head. She frowns. "I think that's a good thing," I reassure her. "It means my part is done."

"I don't know about that," Leon adds. "Based on what I dreamed, which I'm guessing is the same as what Glenna dreamed, Uncle Randy is going to be spending a great deal of time around here."

Glenna nods a grinning agreement.

Kent looks confused.

"I'll explain later. I'm seriously dying of thirst. Anyone else want a beer? I re-stocked while we were out."

"Sure," Glenna replies, slipping her arm through mine. "Mom called. She was in seventh heaven. Thanks for doing that, Randy. I really appreciate it."

I shrug. "It was my pleasure. I don't mind."

"I know that but that doesn't mean it wasn't a nice thing to do, dipshit. Try giving yourself a little credit sometime, huh?"

Once more, we're seated around the small kitchen table. We drink our beers in silence. Thoughts that have been rattling around my head are, degree by degree, becoming more coherent. I need a computer and a decent internet connection. Not tonight, though. I'm not so lost inside my own skull that I don't realize that Glenna and Leon are saying good night.

"How much time does it take to make your cinnamon rolls?"

Glenna smirks at me. "Greedy little thing, aren't you?"

"Not for me." I smile at her. "Not that I won't eat one, or two, or, maybe even four but I have a quarter to a third of an idea I want to test out." I nod over my shoulder. "Besides, Kent hasn't had one."

She stares at me, curiosity roaming across her face. I see in her eyes she's made a decision before she nods. "It's not that hard, actually. I'll make a batch in the morning."

"Good deal." I kiss her on the cheek. "Thanks. Don't get up early or anything. I don't need them until later in the morning."

"When you gonna tell me what it is you've got up your sleeve?"

I kiss her on the cheek again. "Not long. Promise. Would you mind if I looked over the kitchen in the clubhouse?" She shrugs and nods. I glance over at Leon. "I need to talk to you as well."

"What's the password? Shall we synchronize watches? Meet at noon on a park bench?" His eyes dance with sarcasm but it's a gentle sarcasm; there's no spite in it.

I shake my head. "Remind me how is it I ever wanted to suck your dick?"

Kent looks startled. Glenna laughs. "He's gotcha there, hubby ole boy. Come on. Let's go home."

Leon gives me a, shall we say, rueful smile and a shake of his head. "It's a two-way street you know?"

"Sure, but I was damn cute and totally fucking charming."

"Are you saying I wasn't?"

"No." I'm serious now. "You know I'm not." I throw my arms around him and hug him. He returns it with one arm. "Good night, Leon."

"Night," he replies. He nods to Kent. He and Glenna disappear in the dark beneath the trees.

"I need to wash the lake water off. You?"

Kent nods. "I'm not sure my towel has dried yet, though."

"Me, either. That's one thing that always sucks when you stay by a lake or beach, unless you're at a hotel. There's never enough fucking towels."

He chooses a shower beside mine this time, instead of on the opposite side of the room. I try not to hope he'll ask me to wash his back or something. It's too soon. I'm more open with my looks. So is he, I think. I can feel my cock stirring and will it to behave. To my hopeful eyes, his dick is a little longer than can be explained by just hot water and a swipe or two of a soapy hand. Then again, he's younger than me and even I can still get excited, even when there's nothing to be excited about.

I scowl but refuse to let the inability of my damp towel to dry my body ruin my mood. The early night air is still warm and finishes drying me by the time we reach the cabin. I take Kent's towel and a handful of clothes pins and hang our towels out on the line stretched between the post of the side porch. The overhand should keep the dew off them. I realize I have no idea if it is supposed to rain tonight or not. I'll chance it. I open two beers and join Kent on the couch.

"I had no idea this place," he gestures with the bottle of beer, encompassing the entire resort, "was even here. It's beautiful."

"It is," I agree. "They do a nice job. Better than her mom, truth be told. But they need some upgrades. Most folks don't like sharing a shower."

"It's not so bad."

I glance at him but his face is passive.

"No, sometimes they can be down-right enjoyable. Still, I think they'd do better if a few of the larger cabins, and eventually all of them, had showers. They could certainly rent them out for more."

Kent nods.

"They didn't use to stay open in the winter. I don't know if they do now or not. My guess is not. I don't think the snow is predictable enough to attract cross-country skiers. But, imagine if a couple of the cabins had small fireplaces, a hot tub out on the deck. They could turn it into a winter couples retreat."

"No good restaurants close by though," Kent offers. "It's what, ten miles into town? And even then, the Mexican place was great but there's not a lot to choose from."

I give a non-committal grunt by way of agreement.

We finish our beers in silence. Kent crosses the small room and puts his empty back in the case. He takes a leak, not bothering to close the door. I hear him brush his teeth and he returns to the sofa. I add my empty to the case and brush my teeth. When I sit down on the couch, he moves a little closer. When his fingers touch my hand, I turn. His eyes tell me it's okay and we kiss. Neither of us have shaved for a few days. I glory in the feel of his stubble on my lips.

He pulls back too soon but his hand still lies atop mine.

"Thank you for the first ordinary day I've had in over two years. It was amazing. Really."

"My pleasure, Kent."

He looks uncertain. "But can we leave it there for tonight? It's been so long. Part of me wants to rip your clothes off and jump in bed but that's too fast. I'm not ready. It's my dick talking not my brain."

Turbidus
Turbidus
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