The River Runs Dry Ch. 02

SIX: WEDNESDAY, SAN FRANCISCO

Jon wasn't sure Boyd would come the next afternoon, but at five-thirty he heard the garage door rattle open. In a moment the back doorbell rang. When he answered it, Boyd's eyes were level, giving him nothing.

"I thought you had a key," Jon said.

Boyd shrugged. "I didn't want to intrude."

Jon drew back to let him in. Boyd stepped into the kitchen.

"Boyd, can we talk a minute?"

"I've got to get dinner ready." He turned his back to Jon and began taking down dishes from the cabinets.

"Please."

Boyd wheeled around. "Look, if a client of mine chooses to mess around with his friend in the shower it's none of my business."

"I didn't know about you and him. He told me last night."

The steely gaze flickered. Jon couldn't resist a dig. "Aren't there rules against that sort of thing?"

"Who are you to judge? Thinking you're so generous to pay Matt a visit when you abandoned him years ago. Coming on to him again, sick as he is. You had your fun. Why don't you get the fuck out?"

Silence fell between them, broken only by their agitated breathing.

After a moment, Jon said, "You're not going to believe anything I say. Talk to him. He's waiting for you."

"I'm going to tell him I quit."

Jon shook his head. "You wouldn't do that."

Boyd glared at him, then turned and left the kitchen.

Jon was sitting at the kitchen table when he came back a while later. He looked up. The younger man resumed his tasks, not looking at Jon.

"Can I help?" Jon asked.

Boyd turned off the tap that he had running and faced him.

"Okay, I was wrong about you coming on to him. Matt told me he was sorry. Said he was the one I should be yelling at. I did, a little." He smiled. Jon was caught off guard by his sudden charm.

"I'm sorry, Boyd."

He shrugged. "Why? You knew him first. I guess that counts for something."

Jon said, "I think I knew right away you and Matt were more than just client and volunteer. I was jealous. I am jealous."

He looked up at Boyd. "Matt and I never got to spend any real time together. I resent you because you've been there for him. You've given him all the care and love I never had the chance to give."

Boyd considered this. "You had Matt when he was healthy and strong. Now here you come again. He idolizes you. Why would he choose me over you?"

"Let's not make him choose. The first time I met Matt I wanted to help him. I still do. We're both on his side, aren't we?"

Boyd nodded. Jon's spirits lifted. He stood and extended his hand. Boyd shook it, then smirked. "What?" Jon said, puzzled.

"Too fucking butch. I'm not used to it." He clasped Jon in a strong embrace. Jon was embarrassed to find himself responding to the feel of Boyd's muscular body surrounding him. He stepped back and their eyes met. "Not bad for an old guy," Boyd said. Jon blushed.

"Who are you calling old?"

"You. I like older men. Particularly ones who keep themselves in shape." Boyd grinned. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really do have to make dinner. I'll set a place for you too, Professor, if you care to join us."

Jon snorted to cover his feelings. "Thanks. Make sure and put out the salt shaker, okay?"

SEVEN: THURSDAY, TEXAS

"You free for dinner?"

Kevin looked up. Ward was standing in the kitchen in coat and tie. He had interviewed for a full-time teaching position at the conference that had ended that afternoon.

"How did it go? Think you'll get invited to their campus?"

Ward shrugged. "Hotel interviews are so weird. Only thing I could tell is that one of the guys was sending out pretty strong vibes."

"Don't blame him." Ward looked as handsome fully dressed as in more revealing attire, or nothing at all. "Seems like a point in your favor."

"You'd think. No private session in the pool this time, I promise." Ward winked. Kevin blushed. "Anyhow, I'm beat. And hungry. Want to go eat?"

"Sure." There was no point in refusing his invitation, not since he had laid bare his feelings, putting himself completely at Ward's mercy. Ward, however, seemed in no hurry to take advantage of his upper hand.

In the day and a half since that morning in the kitchen nothing more had happened. Kevin was on tenterhooks, alternating between being relieved and wondering why Ward was so distant. Perhaps he was toying with Kevin, getting a little of his own back. Kevin couldn't blame him.

"Let me get this stuff off and we'll go." Ward threw off his jacket, turned and began to unknot his tie as he walked toward his room. Kevin watched the muscles in Ward's back and shoulders ripple underneath the dress shirt he wore.

They sat at the small, friendly local diner, surrounded by noisy conversation. Almost every table and booth in the place was occupied.

Ward was talking about the conference as they ate. Even though Kevin had asked him about it, he found he wasn't listening to a word he was saying. He was looking at Ward's face, watching the sparkle in his dark eyes, the firm line of his jaw. He was tracing the movement of Ward's lips as he spoke, waiting for his teeth to flash when he smiled.

He became aware that Ward had stopped talking.

"Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?"

"And what's that?"

Ward chuckled. "About the life of a hustler, right? Well, a part-time hustler, at any rate."

Kevin hesitated, then conceded. "Why do you do it, Ward?"

"This is going to sound flip, but why do you think? I make less than half of what Jon does teaching. This way I can make ends meet. And make my own hours."

The next question was much more difficult. "Were you doing it, I mean, you know, when..."

Ward understood. "No, not when we were both in California. First time was maybe four, five years ago--some middle-aged guy in a bar, wouldn't leave me alone no matter how much I gave him the brush-off. Finally I got pissed and told him it'd cost him two hundred dollars. He didn't miss a beat, said okay." He shrugged. "I was in a bind, moneywise. He wasn't that ugly." He grinned, but a trace of anxiety was in his eyes. "Are you shocked?"

After a moment, Kevin shook his head.

"I haven't changed. Escorting hasn't turned me into some kind of monster, Kevin."

"Are you going to keep doing it?"

Ward shrugged. "Who knows? I'm already a little on the mature side. I'm going to have to go the daddy route soon. Maybe get into rougher stuff. Don't know if I want to do that. Truth is," he said, "I'd give it up in a second if I found someone I could settle down with."

He gave Kevin a searching look, then a crooked smile. "Don't worry. I know I can't make you leave Jon. I don't even know if I want you to. It would kill him."

"Really?"

Ward's expression turned serious. "Don't joke about that. Jon really does love you." He grinned again. "It would be so much easier for me if he didn't. I could seduce you with a clear conscience. I'm still going to, but I feel guilty about it."

Kevin laughed in spite of himself.

On the way home Jon came up again in their conversation.

"Listen," Ward said, "I don't know how much you're going to tell him about this week, but I'd rather you didn't tell him about the escort part."

"Okay. Though he's more open-minded than you might think."

"He can surprise you, I'll give you that. I told you about our first time, didn't I? In the gym shower, just before Christmas vacation."

Kevin's eyes widened. "No. Really? Guess where our first time was."

"I don't have a clue."

He couldn't resist a smirk as he said, "You're not the first guy who's hosted a private party in that pool. Watch it," he warned as the car swerved and nearly ran off the street.

"I never would have thought."

Kevin was on a roll. "When we get home I'll show you his gold cockring."

Ward guffawed. "Oh my god, I don't believe it."

They stood in Jon and Kevin's bedroom. Kevin opened a drawer, seldom used these days, and drew out the ring. He handed it to Ward, who turned the lustrous yellow metal object over in his hand.

"Beautiful."

"It belonged to Jon's first lover. He died a long time ago."

Ward looked at Kevin, his gaze meaningful. "Want to model it for me?"

Kevin swallowed. The moment had arrived, but still he tried to pull back. "To tell the truth, I've never worn it. I'm scared it'll get stuck, or something."

Ward smiled. "Okay if I try it on?"

"Not here." His scruples seemed faint and foolish.

"Fair enough. Let's go to my room. Or better yet, I'll go get ready. You come in a few minutes."

Kevin nodded. Ward left, ring in hand.

"Come on in," his voice said in response to Kevin's knock. He entered the bedroom and stopped short.

Ward lay on his back on the bed, arms behind his head, naked except for a black leather vest. His pubes were trimmed, so the gold ring was clearly visible, nestled around his cock and balls, causing the veins on his shaft to stand out. The head of his cock was engorged and purple. He grinned.

"How's this?"

Kevin licked his lips. "Nice," he croaked.

Ward extended his arms. "Come on in, the water's fine."

Later, Kevin lay face down on the bed as Ward drove into him. He felt the metal pressing in a steady rhythm against his buttocks, a slow fire building in his gut. Kevin crumpled the sheet with both fists, crying half in lust, half in despair, feeling hot wetness spread beneath him as Ward's thrusts against his prostate brought him to orgasm without touching himself.

EIGHT: FRIDAY, SAN FRANCISCO

"Could you be a little more careful? The pavement's pretty bumpy," Matt said. He was sitting in the wheelchair, Boyd pushing.

"Yeah, yeah." Boyd winked at Jon. "You'd think he was a total invalid. Too much complaining and guess who's going to walk."

Jon winced a bit at the casual ribbing, but Matt seemed to take it in stride. He was feeling good today, good enough that the three of them had decided to go out to Fort Point before having dinner in the Castro. Now that they were here Jon wondered whether it had been a good idea for Matt's health. It had turned out to be a cloudy, cool day and out here, close to the water, the breeze made the air seem even chillier. Jon wore a windbreaker and they had covered Matt with a blanket. Only Boyd seemed almost defiant in his usual T-shirt.

Matt, though, was smiling, enjoying himself. He loved coming to the Point, a historic spot on the bay with spectacular views of the Golden Gate Bridge. The breeze whipped the water into a million whitecaps. If they looked closely enough they could see vehicles, like ants, tirelessly traversing the bridge. Sea birds wheeled in the gray skies above.

They made their way onto the pier that jutted out into the bay. Matt looked up at Jon and grasped his arm, smiling. "I'm so glad we could do this today. The three of us."

"You're sure you're not getting cold, Matt?" Jon asked.

Matt shook his head. "I'm looking forward to dinner, though."

Boyd's eyes met Jon's and sent a silent signal. Jon looked at Matt, sitting with a slight frown on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. "We should go if we're going to make our reservation."

Boyd had chosen Luna Piena, a small place in the Castro. "It's quiet, cozy, and wheelchair-friendly," he had told Jon. As the sunlight faded on the day they sat in the patio area in back, amid plants and trickling fountains, Jon and Boyd sipping drinks, Matt nursing a cup of herbal tea.

As dinner progressed the mood became more and more relaxed. They shared from each other's plates and exclaimed over the quality of the food. "This is so tasty," Matt said, spearing a piece of fish. "Amazing what a difference a little seasoning makes."

Jon shot a glance at Boyd, who was beginning to do a slow burn. Matt laughed at his buddy. "Gotcha."

Boyd looked at Jon and shrugged in mock despair. "I try and look out for him, and this is the thanks I get."

"You do a great job, Boyd," Jon said. Matt took Boyd's arm.

"You know I'm just giving you a hard time." He looked across the table at Jon. "This has been the best week, thanks to you guys."

They became somber at the thought that it was almost over. Jon would be flying back to Texas tomorrow. He raised his glass.

"Well, it's not over yet. I'm going to have another drink. Anyone want to join me?"

Later that evening Jon waited with Matt in his wheelchair at the front door for Boyd, who was putting the car in the garage. The door opened and they met just inside.

Momentary silence fell. Then Boyd said, "Well, I ought to get going."

"I know it's real late, but can you help me get ready for bed?"

"Sure," Boyd said. Jon felt a pang of hurt that Matt had not asked him. As if in response, Matt turned to him at that moment. "You can come up too, if you want."

They got Matt up to his bedroom. Boyd helped him remove his shirt and undershirt. By now Jon felt no shock at seeing his friend's wasted body, only tender protectiveness.

Boyd took Matt's arm and lowered him to the edge of his bed. "Jon, can you get his shoes?"

He bent down at Matt's feet to help as requested. The bed moved. Jon saw that Boyd had sat next to Matt, a plastic tube in one hand.

"I'm going to rub you with this. Your skin's not looking so good."

Matt looked down at Jon and winked, despite his fatigue. "Mm, goody."

Boyd squeezed some lotion into his hand and began to apply it to Matt's shoulders and back, massaging it in. Jon sat on the floor, feeling as if he were intruding, yet unable not to watch. Neither of the others seemed to mind. Matt's eyes were half-closed, his mouth slightly open in peaceful enjoyment. After a while Boyd raised one leg and threw it across the bed behind Matt, moving until he was cradling Matt's body in front of him, their heads almost touching. He took another handful of lotion and began to massage Matt's chest and stomach. Matt's breathing deepened and his head fell back against Boyd's shoulder. His buddy kissed him on the cheek as his hands caressed his nipples, then traveled lower. They began to unbuckle Matt's belt. Jon rose.

"Where are you going?" Matt asked.

"I'll leave you two alone." The thought of Matt and Boyd together put him in a turmoil of desire and jealousy. He didn't know if he could stay in the house while they made love in the next room.

Matt's eyes were steady. "Don't go, Jon."

To his amazement Boyd nodded agreement. "Stay."

At a loss, he smiled and stammered, "I'm... well, I'm not really into watching."

Boyd gave him the level stare that had become familiar. There was no hostility in it now, only a message whose strength and clarity took his breath away. "Who said anything about watching?"

He extended his hand. When Jon got near enough it found the swelling bulge between his legs and rubbed it.

"The first time I saw you in the airport I liked your body," Boyd said. "When I caught you in the shower with Matt I saw you had a cock to match."

His other hand tugged at Jon's wrist. Moving as if in a dream, Jon bent. Their mouths met in a slow kiss, tongues tangling. He felt Matt's breath in his left ear, heard his whisper.

"Make love to me, Jon. Make love to us."

It was a dying man's wish. He obeyed.

NINE: SATURDAY, SAN FRANCISCO

Jon awoke the next morning alone, in the guest room where he had been staying. Bright sunlight was pouring in through the second-story window, reflecting off the walls. A sour taste was in his mouth. He threw back the covers. Sweat and dried substances clung to the skin and hair on his body.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning Jon had awakened on Matt's bed, Boyd's body next to his, one arm flung across his chest. He could hear Matt's harsh, raspy breathing nearby. He had managed to extricate himself without awakening either of them and padded down the hallway to his own bed, carrying his clothes.

Other memories began to trickle back from the previous night.

Kneeling naked in front of Matt and Boyd, sitting side by side at the edge of the bed, sucking Boyd's cock while grasping Matt's erection in his hand, pumping it.

Lying face down between Matt's outstretched legs, tonguing his scrotum and his shaft, not letting himself put the head of his cock in his mouth. Meanwhile, Boyd's tongue snaked up his hole, his beard scratchy on the tender skin of his butt. A few minutes later he gasped in pain as his hard, thrusting cock impaled him.

Eventually he had gotten his revenge, flipping Boyd on his back, hastily pulling on a condom and entering him while looking at the ridges on his stomach. As he drove into his ass they had kissed again, bathing each other with their hot breath and spit. He had looked up to see Matt lying next to them, watching them fuck with intense concentration, hand moving on his own cock.

Boyd stroked himself until he came, sperm flying across his hard abdomen as he cried out. Jon had cum himself then, screwing his eyes shut and shouting "Fuck!" as he exploded into the rubber inside the tight hole. All the while he had been dimly aware of Matt's weaker cries at his side. As soon as he could he had opened his eyes, and seen the streaks of liquid pooling on pale skin. He looked up into Matt's face. He was still trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving. He had smiled at Jon, tender and sweet.

"Thank you."

Deliberately Jon replayed their lovemaking with no emotion or judgment, letting the stream of vivid, silent images run through his brain as if he were watching a film.

For the moment, he could live with himself. He sat up and walked into the bathroom.

Brushing his teeth and taking a hot shower restored some sense of physical normality. He got dressed, opened the door of his room and looked down the hallway. The door to Matt's room was shut and there was no sign of activity.

A pleasant scent of cooking food and noises from the kitchen drifted up from downstairs. The moment could no longer be postponed. Jon descended the stairs, walked across the living room and entered the kitchen.

Boyd was at the stove, his back to him. He turned and nodded toward the table. "Good morning. Want some coffee?"

"Sounds good, thanks." Jon sat at the small kitchen table and poured himself a cup.

"Want some breakfast?" Boyd asked. "I'm making something to take up to Matt. I doubt he'll be down this morning." He gestured to a tray near him on the counter.

"Will I be able to see him?"

Boyd nodded. "I'm sure he'll want to talk to you, Jon. Just give him some time to get going. Last night took a lot out of him." He smiled with the barest hint of a wink. "Took a lot out of me, too."

Jon said nothing. Boyd picked up the tray. "I'm going up. There's scrambled eggs in the pan. Make yourself some toast if you like. I'll be back."

As he passed by Boyd stopped, his body lightly pressing against Jon's shoulder. "Jon, let's talk, okay?"

A faint spark of the electricity that had passed between them rose in Jon at Boyd's touch. He looked up. Their eyes met. "Sure."

Boyd nodded, and was gone. Jon took a sip of coffee, strong and bitter.

It hadn't been much of a struggle to accede to Matt's request. He couldn't blame it on the drinks he'd had at dinner. He'd had the hots for Boyd from the first time he saw him. Even now Jon was getting hard thinking about the younger man's body and the abandon with which he had used it.

Matt had sensed their attraction. He had played them off against one another, knowing that initial antagonism would only heighten their mutual desire. Unable with his sick and broken body to satisfy his own needs, Matt had induced them to play out his fantasies.

His longtime partner hadn't counted in the equation at all. Matt didn't give a shit about Kevin, or what he might have done to Jon's relationship. But why should he? Why should a dying man be generous toward, or even considerate of, someone he had met once and would never know?