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I love blogs. They are wonderful tools to display stories where you not only get to show off your writing skills but can also indulge in a little artistic expression. However, the one thing I have noticed about them is how hard it is to jump from one chapter to another in stories.

In order to help you readers, I set up chapter links for all my multi-post stories. When you reach the end of a chapter, all you have to do is click on the (To be continued…) at the bottom, and it will take you to the next chapter. I hope this makes it easier for you.

Until next time…

A Love Unexpected Ch. 23

Healing The Heartache



Jake and Dylan were making their way down to the parking lot as fast as Jake’s stiff knee would allow. Every once in awhile he thought it would be more convenient if he could use the wheelchair again, but his physiotherapist had strongly urged that walking was the best exercise. He had to be patient and strengthen the muscles if he wanted to play baseball again. So there they were hobbling along at his speed, Dylan keeping the conversation going while Jake felt sorry for himself.

Part of the reason Jake sulked was because Dylan continued to baby him. Well, it wasn’t exactly babying. It was more like he never lost his temper or acted like Jake was a burden, and that annoyed him because for once he’d like to see the real Dylan. The mean Dylan who would finally snap and say living together wasn’t working out. Dylan called him on his bullshit most of the time but he was always so fucking nice about it. If he thought Jake was indulging in self pity he’d make a joke to bring him out of himself, and if that didn’t work he’d propose getting out for awhile to relieve stress. Which was the reason they were on their way to Cold Stone to get some icecream.

They were pushing through the door of the ice cream shop just as a group of Long Beach State students were coming out, and Jake recognized a boy named Blaine from his calculus class. Greetings ensued, and Jake and Dylan were introduced to everyone in the group. A few minutes later, Jake had ordered a Cookie Minster and Dylan was lapping at the caramel dripping from the side of his Coffee-Lovers when they rejoined the students.

Blaine looked at Jake. “Do you know anybody who wants to move off-campus at the end of the semester? A friend and I share an apartment but his girlfriend wants them to try living together, so I need a new roommate.”

Dylan held his breath and waited for Jake to jump at the chance to ditch him. Frankly, now that he didn’t have weekly doctor appointments or the wheelchair and casts to hold him back, he had been expecting to hear a lot more from him about changing their living arrangements for the spring term.

Jake thought a minute. “No, sorry, no one comes to mind, but I’ll keep my ears open just in case.”

He went back to eating his ice cream concoction and felt the heat of Dylan’s gaze on him. “What?” he asked jokingly.

Dylan shook his head and looked away. “Nothing,” he muttered, just surprised over Jake’s answer. He was still wondering about it half an hour later when they were on their way back to the college.

“Are you alright, Dylan?” Jake asked. “You’re too quiet.”

Dylan moved over to the right lane to make a turn at the next stoplight. “I’m good. I, uh… I just wondered why you didn’t take Blaine up on his offer. Now that you don’t need help getting to class and can do stuff for yourself, I sort of expected you to grab the opportunity.”

Jake didn’t say a word for the next minute, surprised into silence. It sounded as if Dylan wanted him to move out. Wasn’t he happy with their dorm arrangement? Or did he want to be free of him so he could move somebody else in or get a place of his own? It was true they hadn’t discussed the future beyond winter break between them but surely, if Dylan didn’t want to be with him he should have said something.

“I’m good,” he finally managed. To save face so he didn’t appear so needy, he added in as strong a voice as he could muster, “I barely even know Blaine. Sharing a room with a near-stranger doesn’t sound very appealing. He seems nice and all, but…”

Inside Jake felt so muddled up. He was enjoying living with Dylan, especially now that the boy didn’t have to play nursemaid and they could be equal partners in their friendship. But like always, all he received back was mixed signals. Dylan had the whole responsible man doing the right thing act down to a tee. He needed to break out of it, but Jake didn’t know how to force it without sounding unappreciative and hurting his feelings.

To Dylan, Jake’s reason seemed like a genuinely good one so he didn’t push the issue. The kid completely shut down after that, and he thought it was better to leave him alone, wondering if Jake was afraid of hurting his feelings. Maybe he felt guilty after all the trouble Dylan had gone through to get the dorm for them. Maybe he should talk to him and tell him that this was always meant to be temporary until he got well, and he was free to move after the first of the year.

“Uh... Jake?” he ventured.

“What?” Jake turned sad eyes to him but, in the dim light of the SUV, Dylan couldn’t see the light film of tears. He could, however, hear the tiredness.

“Never mind. It’s not important.”

Blaine’s offer rattled Jake. It made him look at Dylan with new eyes and wonder if there was a way they could get past all the summer angst and forge a new relationship between them. That’s what he wanted, and sometimes he thought he detected a longing in Dylan’s face signaling that he wanted it too. But after two months of circling like combatants, their words, their very feelings seemed steeped in deep denial, and to bridge that topic invited disaster. It was a house of cards—all either one of them had to do was mention the ‘love’ word, and there went the whole tentative friend’s thing and sharing a dorm, all of it.

But sometimes Jake had more courage than at others, and late October found him at such a point. Now that he was mostly healed except for the stiffness in his knee and arm which he attended physiotherapy for, Jake didn’t have to rely on Dylan so much. Even the therapy didn’t require driving; the trainers in the Sports Medicine department of Long Beach State were amazingly competent at what they did, and they put Jake through his paces in exercises. But Dylan had a tendency to hover, and if Jake hadn’t found it endearing, it might have been damned annoying. When water polo practice didn’t get in the way, he was forever insisting on going with him to his strength-training sessions and cheering him on. Didn’t that speak to how much he loved him?

Jake had been determined that, come what may, he was going to tell Dylan. It was the third Friday in the month, and he had been working himself up all afternoon to admit he was in love with him. But then there had been a scheduling problem with the therapy where someone had double-booked his time, and Jake chose to be the nice guy who didn’t squawk and said no, it was okay, he’d come back in an hour and a half. By the time he returned to the dorm, Dylan was rushing around getting a bag ready because he was going up to the San Francisco area for the weekend to play water polo matches against Stanford and Berkeley. Dylan was just too distracted at the moment, but maybe if Jake could march up to him right before he left, plant a kiss on his cheek and suggest they talk on Sunday when he returned?

Then one of Dylan’s teammates, a senior named Dan Somebody, dropped by their room. They were catching vans to take them to the airport, and Dan had volunteered to drive Dylan. Jake sadly watched his man running around frantically late, a stranger impatiently waiting for him, and he saw his window of opportunity evaporate. Finally, Dylan stood completely still next to Dan looking around as if he’d forgotten something.

“Oh yeah,” he exclaimed, fishing the key to his SUV out of his pocket and tossing it to Jake. “I know you probably won’t use it, but in case you need to go out while I’m gone, feel free.”

Dylan waved his goodbye to him as he bounced through the door, and Jake heard Dan’s surprised but cautionary voice, “What’s up with that, dude? You let your roomie drive your car?” And then what was obviously meant to be a joke: “What is he, your boyfriend?”

“Nah, just a friend,” Jake heard fading down the hall. “Let’s go or we’ll miss the ride.”

Jake looked askance at the closed door, his heart tumbling in sorrow. Out of his own mouth! Apparently, everyone who had sworn that Dylan was still in love with him was wrong, or maybe he’d fallen out of love… it happened. Reasonably, this is what Jake should have expected, and maybe it was for the best. Up until now they had managed nicely, but he could feel the pressure building inside. Dylan was his friend, but Jake wanted the boyfriend back. He wanted his lover.

All Dylan had to offer, however sincere, was friendship. That hurt far, far worse than Jake ever could have realized.

**

After a succession of judicial delays, George’s preliminary hearing was set for the following Monday afternoon and Jake and Dylan had to attend. Tony had agreed to the DA’s deal to speak out against him and would be one of the State’s strongest witnesses, tying intent to the aftermath to show that George had purposely gone to Aleppo Park to hurt his son. The attempted murder case was strong against him.

Most of their friends had already explained to the judge in previous closed-hearing statements what they had observed when they entered the Walker residence that day in early August. Because there were so many witnesses, this was already the third day of the hearing with another three scheduled for later in the week. This would allow Jake’s brothers to mention their own abuse by their father and the fanaticism in which he’d tried to hunt him down in May. Carolyn was to testify about George’s hatred towards their son’s lifestyle. Jake’s doctors would close with the litany of grievous injuries he had suffered.

As with Kelsey’s hearing neither boy was allowed to hear the facts presented by the other.

Dylan went in first. There sat George next to his two attorneys, totally uninterested in the proceedings. Even in a tacky jail jumpsuit and cuffs and chains, George was a huge, imposing man, a man who would frighten a kid like Jake into submission. Dylan tried not to be intimidated by reminding himself he was doing this for him. Step by step, Dylan repeated his story of finding out what Kelsey had done and racing to Jake’s side. They had run into the house and there was George looming over him menacingly, and Jake was a mass of cuts, bruises and broken bones.

Then the defense began their cross-examination. Naturally, Mr. Nielsen’s attorneys quickly latched on to the fact that Dylan was Jake’s ex-boyfriend, causing George’s head to whip up and fix him with an evil stare. The questions seemed to go on forever as they reworded them several times and threw them back out, trying to trip him up. By the time he walked out he was pale and shaking.

Jake took a deep breath and stepped into the dim, quiet courtroom. As he passed the defense table he heard his father say “faggot” low, under his breath, but he didn’t let it bother him. Although George smirked at him throughout the hearing he knew he could no longer hurt him. Those days were done, and Jake had emerged mentally, if not physically, stronger.

The defense, perhaps sensing that they would not make points by verbally attacking the supposed victim at this stage, went easier on him than Dylan. Not that he remembered much of the actual attack on him. Even after nearly three months, his recall consisted solely of opening the door to him and Tony, the angry words between them over his flight from Madera and the first ten or so blows. Shock and trauma would have to account for loss of memory, but photos told the rest of the story.

A series of blown up pictures of Jake were flashed on a screen to his right, and he cringed. They were photographs taken of him, unconscious, at the hospital before and after surgery detailing the injuries he’d sustained. They fascinated him; ten days had passed between the date of the images and his surfacing from the coma, but it was like staring at a stranger. He couldn’t even identify his bruised and bloody face, and if he hadn’t known better he would swear it wasn’t him.

The toughest question was why he didn’t fight back, which the DA tried to object to, but the judge was eager to hear. Jake stood there for at least a minute fighting to put into words a lifetime of mental duress and being slapped down every single time he tried to defend himself from his father. How conditioned he’d become to keeping still so that the abuse would end sooner. In George’s mind, there was no side other than his, and as he had pointed out on the last two occasions they met, Jake was deficient and an abomination because he was gay. George felt it was his parental duty to pound the gayness out of his son. But with a twist of ironic justice, the defense blundered right into opening up a new line of questioning. What George had done to Jake in May when he discovered the relationship between him and Miguel came out in full detail, and that dovetailed into Tony’s former testimony about e-mailing the pictures…

“Are you alright,” Dylan asked in alarm when Jake walked out of the courtroom after three hours. His whole body felt wilted and he was limping in exhaustion.

“Yeah,” Jake sighed tiredly, wiping the back of his wrist over his stinging eyes. “Let’s go home.”

**

Dylan came fully alert well after midnight to an abrupt scream from Jake. He seemed to be in the midst of some terrible dream, and he was thrashing and moaning on his bed. Dylan flew across the dorm room.”

“Jake,” he said softly, shaking his friend. “Jake, wake up.”

“Oh!” Jake said, looking mystified as his eyes flew open and he sat straight up. “What happened?”

“You were dreaming.”

Jake lay back against his pillows and thought a few seconds before it all came back. “Yeah, I think it was about my dad. Someone was trying to hit me.”

Dylan chuckled grimly. “After court today I’m not surprised. That was grueling. Are you okay now?”

Jake nodded, and Dylan moved back to his side of the room. “Go to sleep. It’s fine.”

Only it wasn’t fine. Jake continued to wake up from bad dreams, sometimes in tears, sometimes shouting in fury. After the fourth time in as many days, while Jake was sitting sullen and exhausted at breakfast, Dylan had an idea.

“I don’t know what it was about you attending that hearing for your dad, but something got you worked up. Maybe you should see someone over at the counseling office.”

“Wonderful,” Jake tried to tease. “Now I’m crazy.”

“You aren’t crazy,” Dylan remonstrated, swirling a piece of pancake in maple syrup. “But you can’t keep going like this.”

“I just don’t know why I’m having nightmares about my dad now. It’s been months since he hurt me.”

Dylan ate the bite of pancake and washed it down with juice before speaking. “True, but it was the first time you had seen him since August and you know what he did to you then. If you think about the hearing and all the mental shit that the questions would force you to relive, it’s no wonder you’re having bad dreams.”

When Jake remained silent and his thoughts distant, Dylan tried again. “Listen, I talked to your brothers a lot while you were in the hospital. They were sharing horror stories about your father and how violent he’s always been…”

Jake nodded. “You remember that television sitcom from like ten years ago that is still shown in reruns late in the day? That 70’s Show? And the dad, Red, used to call Eric a dumbass? That’s what my father did, except it was accompanied by a hard slap to the back of the head.”

“So David was saying how both he and Adam have had counseling in the past to deal with their daddy issues.”

“Adam still goes,” Jake recalled. “Dad was violent to all of us.”

“But not as much as he was to you,” Dylan pointed out. “He never put your brothers in the hospital. So if they can get help when he didn’t beat them up, maybe you should consider it.”

Jake saw the logic. He kept his thoughts to himself, which were mostly about how little free time he already had and how intrusive therapy would be, but in the end he had to agree with Dylan. He certainly couldn’t keep slouching through the day, exhausted by scant hours of sleep because a bad dream in the middle of the night woke him up and he was too afraid to go back to sleep.

Jake was thrilled when the calendar changed to November second. UC-Irvine, where Noah and Marcus attended college was coming in to play Long Beach State’s water polo team, and their friends wanted to watch the late afternoon match. Well, actually, they wanted to visit Jake and Dylan, but if they were willing to claim they were being true to their school, so what?

With Long Beach being right up the freeway from Irvine, there was a fairly good-sized crowd attending, but Jake found his friends quickly after they entered the pool arena. And what a surprise to discover that Aunt Pat was with them! Jake gave her a big hug, and they went to locate seats. Pat sided with him to cheer on the 49ers, earning her Marcus’ good-natured scolding about being loyal to his university, and Dylan made two goals to help bring Long Beach in for the win.

Jake couldn’t wait to show his aunt their dorm room. He hadn’t seen much of her since he began college—only that one weekend he rode down with Dylan, and he had much to talk about. Marcus and Noah weren’t in a hurry to get back to their campus, and eventually they took off with Dylan, leaving Jake and his aunt alone to talk. It wasn’t long before the topic shifted around to Dylan.

“So tell me about what is going on between you two,” Patricia said, gazing down at her lap innocently even while her lips twitched in a smile.

“Nothing,” Jake said, trying not to be morose.

“That in itself is a problem,” Pat surmised gently. “Isn’t it.”

Jake turned to stare at her and realized what she said was true. “How do you know?”

“Do you think you could hide it from me, Jake? You talk about him enough. You think no one else bothers to look, but you watch every move he makes. It’s the way you light up when he’s in the room, the way you smile when he cracks a joke or grins at you. The funny thing is, you aren’t the only one. He does it too.”

“So you think cares about me?” Jake’s whole being went still in anticipation as he mumbled the words. He wanted to hear it, preferably from Dylan, but he’d accept confirmation from his aunt.

“Oh yes,” Pat said, her eyes sparkling. “I think Dylan Moore is head over heels in love with you.”

The next week Jake finally went to the counseling office and signed up to see a college therapist named Connie. She was a nice woman in her mid-forties with curly red hair and a placid face. However, behind that quiet schoolmarm exterior she hid a ribald sense of humor, and Jake liked her immediately. Even so, he was selective. The talked about George but not Dylan because he didn’t see any correlation. He discussed his nightmares, and she gave him several ideas for how to deal with them like calming his mind before bed. He hoped she’d make a difference.

Jake had other reasons to get depressed as the days passed. His training with the Sports Medicine personnel was damned hard and frustrated the hell out of him. It was like his knee was loosening up, the tendons responding to exercise and the whole kneecap less painful, and then he hit a wall. The training plateaued out in early November, leaving Jake wanting to beat his fists against one in frustration.

Jake returned to the dorm in a foul mood, swearing under his breath which was so unlike him that Dylan could only stare. “What’s wrong, Jake?”

“I’m fucking done, Dylan. I’m done with the fucking therapy and the goddamned exercises that aren’t doing me any good. I can fucking walk without limping now. If I never play baseball again, it’s no big goddamned loss.”

Dylan tried to tease him back into a good mood. “Are you trying to be a big kid and see how many times you can swear in the same sentence?” A glare from Jake wiped the grin off his face.

He tried again. “You have no idea how strong you are, Jake. You have been through three months of incredible hardship and bounced back. Yeah, you’ve hit a low point, but you aren’t a quitter.”

“How do you know, goddamnit?” Jake shouted, turning in desperate circles and flailing his arms. “You fucking don’t. We’ve been friends for six fucking months, and we know basically squat about each other. Maybe I am a quitter but I never knocked up against something that was too hard for me. I can’t fucking do this. I’m sick of the pain and the fucking exercises that don’t fucking work anymore. I’m supposed to report to baseball at the fucking start of second semester, and I am fucking never going to make the goddamned team.”

Dylan moved as if to physically calm Jake down by grabbing him, and Jake jumped away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he warned. And with that he was out the door of their room.

Jake spent the next two hours stomping around campus. It was drizzly out, but he didn’t care. Sticking to the places most students didn’t inhabit, like the far side of the science building or the hill above the library, he swore and cried in private. He felt overwhelmed with all these emotions with no place to put them. He despised Tony. He hated his father, wished he would die a painful death and prison seemed like too good of place for him when compared to what Jake had to give up.

He loved baseball. The feel of the bat in his hand and the solid thwack when a pitched ball made contact. The incandescent joy of running full bore for the first bag and the thrill of the mental games he played with the defense in running and stealing bases to score a run. The concentration of manning shortstop waiting for his chance to make the big play. If he had to give it up, he didn’t know how he would stand it.

As Jake began to quiet, he felt bad for how he treated Dylan whom he recognized was simply trying to encourage and help him. It wasn’t fair to him to be dumped on like that; Dylan rarely ever cursed, and he’d been so rude. Why should he even bother to help him understand when Jake was exactly what he claimed: a quitter? He didn’t want to be a quitter, and he limped back to his dorm in exhaustion.

Back in their room, Dylan hung his head in sorrow for his friend. My fault. This is my fault. That was what it boiled down to. His mouthiness in blaming Jake for Tony’s presence at State, his splitting up with him, leaving him at Kelsey and George’s mercy. Where was the damned rewind button on his life? He’d give anything to go back to July and do it different.

Dylan loved Jake with all his heart, but on days like today it took almost more than he could bear just to remember what they used to share. What they probably would never share again. He was under no delusions. Jake hadn’t said anything, but he was only here until the end of the semester. He didn’t need Dylan’s pity-party help and could get by under his own power. He would find a roommate he wanted to be with and move out.

It was already dark when Jake let himself back into the dorm. He found Dylan studying for a test, and he barely looked up once he saw that Jake was basically alright.

“I’m sorry,” Jake mumbled. “You’re right. I’ve had a lousy week, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Dylan smiled at him, always amazed by how cute the boy was with his dark curls and green eyes. “That’s okay, we all get in bad moods. You’re allowed a rotten day now and then. Don’t sweat it.”

I wish I could tell you, Dylan thought to himself, how much being with you makes me happy and that I don’t want to lose you next semester. He wished he could hear Jake, himself, say he still loved him because maybe it would magically heal what was wrong between them.

“I know,” Jake insisted, “but I had no reason to go off like that. It isn’t just the physiotherapy; it’s my nightmares and all the other shit that I’ve been through. Every time I get upset I can see it in your eyes. You blame yourself, and that isn’t right.

“The truth is, we can’t tell the future with a crystal ball. Fighting over Tony? Even if we hadn’t, we don’t know whether Erin would have kept his name to herself instead of telling Kelsey. You can’t say for sure I wouldn’t have been alone that day, so maybe George would have found me anyway. And he was gunning for me here at school, so possibly all it did was set the timetable ahead a couple of weeks. The point is, you did the right thing afterwards. You did exactly what Marcus and Noah said—you saved me. So get over it already and stop beating yourself up.”

There was complete sincerity in every single word of Jake’s, and Dylan stared at him in awe. How could he not love this man? He was good in so many indescribable ways. “I love you,” he said quietly.

By that time, Jake had turned around looking for a towel to dry his hair and didn’t hear him. “What, Dylan?”

“Uh, nothing.” Dylan didn’t have the courage to say it again, but right then and there, he decided to believe him and try to start over as if the fight had never happened. It was so ingrained to always be finding fault with himself, but he was going to try.

Jake’s nightmares continued at least several times a week. He wasn’t sure what help he received from his counseling visits with Connie, but he tried the various suggestions she offered. Sometimes when he dreamed, he only groaned once or twice and settled down right away. Other times, he would wake himself up with his cries, shake his head a few times and pound the mattress in disgust.

Dylan was at a loss to know what to do, but it hurt him to see Jake so discouraged. The morning following his worst dreams Dylan could tell that he most likely didn’t close his eyes for more than a few minutes at a time because he’d have dark circles under them. Jake kept a dream log, and often he would see him writing in it.

A few days later Jake was leaving his Biological Diversity lab and texted Dylan about lunch. They had a very thin overlap time around their Thursday schedule, and eating together was a challenge. Dylan messaged back and told him that he’d meet him in the dining hall in fifteen minutes.

Jake had just left the line at the sandwich bar, selecting pastrami on a sub roll, a small dish of fresh vegetables for dipping and ranch dressing, a brownie and milk. As he was making his way to the table over near the large windows he waved at Dylan who had just entered and was moseying towards the food line.

Pulling out a chair, Jake was surprised when a tall freshman with blonde hair and a jaunty attitude walked up to him, turned a seat around and straddled it. “Isn’t your name Jake?” the boy asked, studying his face intently.

Scott. Jake thought his name was Scott and he was a friend of Zander and Nick’s who he had been introduced to near the start of the semester. Jake nodded, and the boy brightened, bumping his fist and announcing that yes, his name was Scott.

“You know Dylan Moore, don’t you?” he asked eagerly.

Jake nodded again. “Yeah, we’re roommates. Why?”

Scott looked a little sheepish and lowered his voice. “You’re both gay, right?”

Jake didn’t necessarily like the ideas that popped into his head, but the question was asked in an innocent way. Besides, he thought that Scott was gay too, so there was little to fear. “I am, but I’m not going to speak for Dylan without his say-so.”

“That’s okay,” Scott said. “I’ve seen him around and it isn’t a secret.”

His glances became even more nervous and then he seemed to make a decision. “I know this is coming out of nowhere and is probably none of my business, but I got to know. Are you together? Like, in a relationship?”

What the hell! Jake looked at Scott and sighed at the hope in his blue eyes. He was beginning to see where this was leading.

“No,” he said reluctantly and thought, not for lack of trying.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked Dylan out, right?”

Jake swallowed hard and shook his head. He wished he could speak the truth, but he wouldn’t want it getting back to Dylan.

“Uh, do you know what he likes? The kind of guy he dates, I mean. Specific body types, etc.?”

“You know, Scott,” Jake said in a strained voice. His chest felt tight. “I am the wrong person to ask. I’ve only known Dylan for six months, and you’re going to have to talk to someone else.”

“Oh, okay.” He sounded disappointed. “Well anyway, thanks for your help, Jake.” And Scott slapped fingers and was gone.

Jake observed him walking towards the food line just as Dylan was turning with his tray. Scott stepped up to him and caught his attention. They were too far away for him to hear what they were saying, but it was a short conversation. Dylan smiled at him with a short nod and passed around him to join Jake at the table.

Jake busied himself putting mayonnaise on his sandwich roll, a lump in his throat he almost couldn’t talk around. “What did Scott want?”

Dylan was about to ask Jake the same thing. He’d witnessed their entire conversation from across the room. “Not much. He asked if I wanted to catch a movie some time, and I said I was really too busy right now. What about you?”

Jake looked at Dylan slowly, relaxing all over. “He asked if he could invite you out.”

Intrigued, Dylan stared at him. “What did you say?”

“Not a lot. I was kind of vague because I wasn’t sure if you would appreciate me setting you up with someone. So I told him he was on his own.”

That was not the answer Dylan was hoping for but he kept his feelings to himself. He was hoping Jake had told Scott that he wasn’t available because he was already taken. Funny, Dylan grimaced sadly. That wasn’t about to happen, not with Jake.

**

It was the Friday before Thanksgiving, and Jake and Dylan were getting anxious to take off for a five-day weekend of eating turkey and joining throngs of other stupid shoppers to brave the malls of Black Friday. They made plans to get back in touch with the old gang, thinking how exciting hanging with Spencer, Sage and Luis would be after three months of missing them. Dylan would be, of course, joining his family, but Aunt Pat planned on a large feast with Carolyn and Jake’s two brothers, as well as David’s fiancée, in attendance.

Ever since their run-in with Scott, both boys had been walking around on eggshells and the tension in the dorm room was nearly unbearable. Jake loved living with Dylan, he really did. But once they returned after the holiday they had around three weeks until Winter Break and the end of the first semester. They would have to find a way to settle this feeling of impending disaster one way or another.

Dylan came awake somewhere around midnight to the sounds of Jake moaning in his bed. Another nightmare. He listened for about thirty seconds; sometimes Jake settled on his own without Dylan’s intervention, and that was supposed to be a good thing according to Connie. However, tonight, Jake seemed to be in the throes of a worse than usual dream, and he was thrashing and calling out “no, no, no” over and over as if he was being hurt.

Dylan stepped out of bed and crossed the room to Jake’s side. “Jake, hey buddy, wake up,” he said sleepily as he shook his bare shoulder gently. “You’re having another bad one.”

The yelling ended on a choked sob as Jake awoke abruptly. He had been back in the foyer of the Walkers’ with his father kicking and punching him, but instead of just him and Tony present there were several other boys that he recognized from his classes, and they were all closing in on him to help in the attack.

In the dim light from the window Dylan could see the terror on Jake’s face, and he knelt next to him on the floor. “Are you alright?” he whispered.

Jake’s breathing was harsh, and he wiped angrily at his cheeks. He hated these dreams that took him back to that terrible morning, and the worst wasn’t even the blows. He didn’t actually feel the pain of them; he just knew he was being hit. The worst was the sense that he was going to die and nobody was lifting a finger. He was powerless to stop George, and the panic that enveloped him was filled with all the normal bodily reactions- sweating, shaking and the sense of being unable to breathe that set him off hyperventilating. Tonight’s dream was one of those that would make any further sleep impossible.

Instead of answering Dylan, Jake turned his face away, embarrassed. Weak, he thought to himself. I am so weak. He needed… what? The answer drove its way relentlessly into his thoughts. He needed the comfort of a warm body…

Dylan seemed to know something else was bothering him. “What’s wrong?” He watched Jake’s shoulders lift in the dark.

A sudden idea came to Dylan but he wasn’t sure if he should even bring it up. Well, if Jake didn’t like the suggestion, all he had to do was say so. It’s not like it was going to ruin their tattered relationship. He could respond with the entire truth… that he offered only because he thought it would help calm him. That was the reason behind it, wasn’t it?

“Hey,” he said softly, almost holding his breath. “Do you think you would rest better if I, um… if we… you know, like… maybe I could hold you… just until you fell back asleep?”

Jake shuddered, startled that Dylan had somehow read his mind. Thanking the gods that he wouldn’t have to ask, he didn’t even need time to think about it. He reached behind him and threw the covers aside so the taller boy could crawl across his body and lay down. Dylan’s bare chest spooned in against his back, and he wrapped his arm around Jake’s shoulders and pulled him in close. This was nice, very nice.

Jake’s ass fit snuggly into his crotch, but Dylan refused to attach anything sexual to their positions. Earlier he had listened through the dark for the rhythmic breathing that signified Jake had dozed off before adeptly jacking himself off, burying his moans in his pillow, so maybe that helped him stay soft. And thankfully, both boys wore underwear to bed and, along with imagining the dandruff his kinematics teacher shed like snow around him, he willed his erection away.

Jake thought this was the most peaceful feeling in the world, one he had almost forgotten, of sleeping next to his lover. His cock languidly rose to a semi-hard position, but he was too tired to worry about it. Unless Dylan moved his arm he was in no danger of discovery. It felt too good to resist letting his tense body relax and fall against him. Oh yes, he could definitely rest comfortably like this, and he did. Consoled, protected, he dropped off immediately.

The sun wasn’t up yet so it had to be very early, and Jake was awash in comfort. Mmm, Dylan! He could smell his man all around him as he lay in his arms. His face tucked into his neck, Jake felt the slightly damp heat beneath him where his cheek made contact with his shoulder. Was this a dream? If so, it was one of the best he’d had in awhile.

Quietly he moaned and began to press soft kisses into the skin of Dylan’s pectorals and throat, tongue lapping at a few drops of sweat and enjoying the slight tang of it. His morning wood flared hard and hot, and he leaned into the muscular swimmer’s thigh between his legs and began to hump it. A roving hand trailed down Dylan’s abs to the waistband of his boxers, and it was no match for his purposes. He searched lower under the fabric and found the malleable, hairless sac of testicles, and he rolled them in his fingers. A penis lengthened like a snake under his wrist.

Dylan’s breath hitched as he awoke to several delightful sensations at once. A warm, male body next to his own that he immediately recognized as Jake’s. His cock thickening under the ministrations of a skillful hand sliding around his balls in a gentle but firm touch. Cool brown curls skimming his chest as a pliant mouth nibbled and sucked at his skin. The hard erection bunching against his thigh, bringing forth familiar gasps and squeaks of pleasure from that same mouth.

“Ooh, Jake, yes…” Dylan grunted, wanting to thrust but afraid to move. “Just like that. You feel so good.”

Instantly the body recoiled, then stilled and Jake’s head dropped back against the pillow as sleep-dazed eyes cleared and looked up at him in horror. “I’m… I’m, oh my god, I’m…” He made as if to escape but Dylan tightened his arm around him.

“Please don’t be, baby,” Dylan said in a gravelly voice, his gaze locking with Jake's, now filling with tears of mortification. After all this time he had the man he loved in his arms where he’d wanted him all along. Dylan tipped closer, inhaling his clean man-scent, and kissed a trail of salt drops away. “Shh, don’t cry.”

Jake stopped struggling but he couldn’t look at Dylan. “But I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Dylan said firmly. “I’m not, and I hope you aren’t either, not really.”

Jake stared back at Dylan, humiliation turning to joy. “I’m not,” he answered in wonder. The deep blue eyes spoke volumes back about love and desire, who he wanted and how long he had waited for him. Could it be true? Did Dylan truly love him again?

“Do you…?” He had to ask because it was too good to believe.

Without needing to hear the whole question, Dylan kissed his other eyelid and whispered, “I never stopped loving you, Jake. It surprises me that you still want me after all the shit I put you through to drive you away. I don’t deserve you.”

“Please stop saying that,” Jake begged sincerely. “Everyone makes mistakes, and I don’t want to keep being reminding of ours. I missed you so. Let’s just focus on now. You can start by telling me again that you love me.”

Dylan pulled his head back to his shoulder and held him tighter. “I love you, Jake, and I missed you too.”

“I love you too.”

Dylan hovered inches over Jake’s mouth, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he stared into the glowing face of his lover. Jake looked so happy, as happy as Dylan felt. He wanted to laugh at how silly the two of them had been, tiptoeing around the subject all these weeks. All that wasted time, and yet, did it matter if this was where they were supposed to be now? No, they were going to live their lives the way they were meant to from this moment on.

Lightly, those same lips ghosted a gentle kiss over Jake’s, and he sighed into the embrace before they pulled apart. Dylan rested his forehead against Jake’s and lovingly ran his fingers through the soft curls. Jake’s hand found the back of Dylan’s head, drawing him down to plant another kiss on his warm, delicious mouth. Dylan caught Jake’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging enough to make him moan in anticipation.

“Shh,” Dylan whispered between kisses. “You’ll wake up the dorm.”

Jake batted at him playfully. “You bit my lip. Don’t tell me to ‘shh’.” And he bit him back.

With a groan, Dylan pulled Jake closer, nipping at his earlobe and forcing a whimper from him. The two them began to giggle between their playful kisses as their hands began to explore. Giggles became squeaks, and a few simple passes later, their mouths opened as tongues began to seek out and entwine.

The taste of Dylan exploded in Jake’s mouth, and it was like a drug hitting his system. He locked his lips on Dylan’s mouth, thrusting his tongue to touch every cell, every nerve, to possess him through his kiss. Dylan rolled, and he was on top of Jake, bodies aligned, their moist skin dragging across each other. Jake moaned again—skin to skin contact with the man he loved felt so good, not only on a tactile level but emotionally too.

They were both instantly hard, their cocks tangled in clothing, and Jake reached down to straighten himself out, the back of his hand rubbing against Dylan’s cotton-covered erection. He could feel the dampness of precum. Little throbs in his groin reminded Jake of past pleasures, and desire shot through him.

Dylan ran his fingers over Jake’s pebbly nipple and watched him shudder in delight. Skimming kisses across his jaw, he whispered, “I need you, Jake. So, so long…”

“Need you too,” Jake breathed. He thrust his aching cock into Dylan’s, making him groan. “Need you now.”

Dylan kicked off the bed to turn head to toe, wiggling out of his boxers so that he was naked when he fell back against the sheets. He quickly made short work of Jake’s briefs, pulled him on to his side and buried his face in his groin to sniff his boy’s musky scent that he’d missed all these past months. Jake’s hard member was right next to his mouth, and he nuzzled it from stem to tip, causing Jake to gasp and tremble.

Jake took the hint and wrapped his hand around Dylan’s thickness, beginning to jack him off with practiced assurance. He gently nibbled the wide bell-shaped head and drew salty drops of precum on to his tongue that snaked out and licked the sensitive area in back where it met the shaft. Dylan whimpered when Jake opened his jaw wide and began to firmly suck.

Dylan’s mouth worked around the crown, sipping at Jake’s slippery fluid oozing from the slit. With long, languid swipes of his tongue, he coated Jake’s cock in saliva before completely engulfing it to the pubes. Jake cried out in aroused surprise and began rolling his hips, and Dylan allowed him to fuck his mouth.

Jake did everything he could to remember on how to give head like his first and only time in the mountains. One hand tugged lightly on Dylan’s balls and rolled them in his hand while his other grasped his dick and rode the foreskin up and down the shaft like a glove. His lips formed a vacuum over the head, eagerly working his mouth farther down with every bob, re-learning as he went. Dylan was gasping in arousal, so that was a good sign that he liked it.

Neither boy was going to last long, and they moaned around each other’s hard tools, feeling the shifting in their abdomens that signaled their impending orgasms. Jake couldn’t help but thrust into Dylan’s mouth as his throat massaged his cock in a steadily rising concert of pleasure. Dylan writhed in wonder at the proficiency of Jake’s tongue and fingers that played him like an instrument, the exquisite suction of his lips that brought him quickly to the edge.

One minute they were teetering over the chasm and the next they were crying out, thrown into it by the twin sensations of heat and warmth. Their balls drew up and they were falling, clutching at each other to ride out their orgasms together.

“Oh god, oh yes,” Jake’s dick-muffled voice cried out as his hips lost control and he saw spots flashing behind his eyelids. He sucked voraciously as Dylan’s cum shot across his tongue in salty ribbons, and he swallowed it all.

“Jake, oh fuck, Jake,” Dylan chanted, holding on to his boy’s hips hard enough to bruise. Rapture nearly overwhelming him, he felt Jake’s release spurting into his throat in a sweetness he couldn’t get enough of.

And then it was over. Sensibility returned as they cleaned each other up thoroughly. Muscles relaxed and they regained their breath. Dylan scooted around and took Jake’s mouth in a tender essence-enhanced kiss. Leaning weakly into each other, they began to drift off, sated.

“I love you, Dylan,” Jake whispered, holding on tightly to his waist and feeling the damp skin beneath his fingers.

“I love you too, baby,” Dylan returned sleepily, nuzzling into the brown curls he had missed so much. “Goodnight.”

**

Jake’s lifted his eyelids several hours later to the innate feeling that he was being studied. Which he was… by a pair of cerulean irises edged in silver just inches from his face. “Hi,” Dylan said softly with a smile, reaching up to push a strand of brown hair off his forehead. “Did you know that you’re beautiful when you’re asleep?”

Jake stretched and grinned, elated to find himself in bed with Dylan. “Hi yourself, and no, I didn’t but thanks, I’ll take your word for it. Nobody has watched me sleep since I was a baby.” He gave Dylan a light kiss and looked at the clock over his shoulder. Eight-thirty. He hadn’t rested so well since before his nightmares started.

“So what should we do today?” Dylan asked mischievously, eyes twinkling and trailing a finger across Jake’s shoulder. “I have a term paper due in Fluid Mechanics the Monday after we return from Thanksgiving break, so I thought I’d spend some time at the library. Didn’t you say you needed clean clothes? That means a trip to the laundry.”

Jake covered Dylan’s mouth with his hand. “Or we could stay in bed doing all the naughty things we wanted to do over the summer when we couldn’t be alone.”

“Okay,” Dylan said, prying Jake’s fingers off his mouth and kissing them. “Naughty things wins out.”

At that moment Jake’s stomach gave a hungry rumble, and they both laughed.

“Maybe we should get some breakfast first,” Dylan suggested, leering at him. “The dining room shouldn’t be too crowded.”

Leaning in for a kiss, Jake breathed, “Starbucks. It won’t take as long.”

“Okay, Starbucks.” Dylan returned the kiss back and took Jake in his arms.

They were interrupted by a pounding on the door, and they heard their friend, Zander’s, voice. “Hey, are you guys in there?”

Jake sighed and rolled out of bed, feverishly searching for his briefs that Dylan had removed the night before. He scampered into a pair of jeans he found on the end of his bed while Dylan watched the fluid movements of his naked body in lustful appreciation. Jake stared at him with his eyebrows raised.

“Aren’t you going to put something on?”

Dylan made a face and leaned out of bed. Grabbing his boxers, he shoved his legs through them and sat back down. “There Mom, I’m dressed,” he teased. He quickly pulled the covers up to his waist as Jake rolled his eyes and opened the door.

Nick and Zander filled their room with restless energy when they strolled in. They were a gay couple from the same hometown in Imperial County, Nick being a freshman who had to reside in the dorms and Zander two years older whom Dylan had met the previous spring during the Clarence crisis. Nick was tall and muscular with mocha skin and dreadlocked black hair while Zander was a slim, brown-eyed blonde with the whitest smile Jake had ever seen.

Dylan was trying to act casual, but both men stared in curiosity. “Uh, why are you naked in Jake’s bed?” Zander asked. They had been in each others’ rooms many times, sharing snacks and playing video games or studying and knew who slept where.

Noting the way Dylan was lounging under the blankets with no t-shirt on, Jake had to agree with Zander, he did look naked.

“I knew there was something wrong with this bed,” Dylan scoffed in jest, doing his best not to blush. He stared at Jake who stared back, mystified. “You should have said something.”

“Huh?” Jake was slow to get the joke. “He’s not naked. He’s wearing boxers… Oh…” Too late, he realized what Dylan was aiming at and his face flooded with color.

“Dude, that still doesn’t answer what you’re doing in Jake’s bed,” Nick pointed out, making him want to melt into the floor.

Zander was gawking at Jake who was turning eight shades of red. Suddenly he got a knowing smile on his face and began theatrically sniffing at the air. “It smells like sex in here.”

“No it doesn’t,” Dylan answered— too quickly, too urgently.

At the same time, Jake wrinkled his nose and innocently asked, “It does?”

There was a meaningful pause and Nick burst out laughing. “Busted!” he chortled. “Awesome, dudes. It’s about time.”

“Ditto. You two have creeping around each other like two lovesick sheep,” Zander continued, watching Jake and Dylan’s faces glow brighter with the teasing.

“For how long?” Dylan asked in open curiosity, wondering if he was that easy to read.

Zander and Nick conferred between themselves. “Uh, since the two of you moved into the dorm in August,” Zander said.

Dylan regarded Jake in shock. “Honestly?” he asked, expecting to hear a much more recent date.

Jake nodded, equally stunned. Everyone had known but him. At the same moment he realized it wasn’t true; people like Marcus and Pat had told him. He’d been aware of Dylan’s devotion as far back as when he woke up in the hospital but was too stubborn to accept it. Walking over to the bed, he sat down next to the man he loved and took his hand.

“Honestly. More than you knew, even more than I knew.” Jake pressed his lips to Dylan’s, stroking his cheek softly.

“Aannnd we’re out of here,” laughed Nick. He grabbed Zander’s hand and hauled him to the door.

Zander picked up the joke because that was the way their humor worked. “Thanks for the tickets to the upcoming floor show, but we’ll pass.”

“If you guys decide you need, ahem… calories,” Nick pointed out, “and you will, believe me… or a break… say you get hungry? Give us a call and we’ll meet you at the dining hall.”

The door slammed, and Dylan made a face at Jake. “That was a little skeevy.”

“I told you to get dressed so it’s your own fault.” Jake pushed him backwards on the sheets and growled. Practically ripping the zipper in his eagerness to get his jeans off, they flew across the room and his briefs followed quickly. His cock was erect and throbbing, thinking of all the time he and Dylan had to make up for.

His boyfriend’s eyes lit up once he saw he was undressing. “What are you doing? I thought you were hungry.”

“I am,” Jake said, “for you. Besides, I want to make our room smell like sex some more.”

Dylan groaned and rolled over, pinning Jake to the bed. He was already growing hard. “What do you want to do?” he asked Jake hoarsely.

“We could take a shower together.” Jake still treasured the memory of the staff showers at the rec center.

“Kill two birds with one stone,” Dylan pointed out. “That’s a good idea.”

Jake laughed. “I don’t normally think about killing birds when I want sex, but if that’s a turn on for you…”

Dylan rolled his eyes and dragged Jake to his feet. Grabbing towels and their grooming gear, they headed for the bathroom they shared with their neighbors on the other side. They carefully made sure that the connecting door was locked from the inside, stripped down and turned the water on to a comfortable level.

Ogling Jake’s bare ass, Dylan shucked off his boxers and pulled him into the small shower. It was cozy and they had to stand close together to keep from brushing up against the tile, but that was the purpose anyway. As the water rained down on them Jake stepped in to Dylan and turned his face up to be kissed.

Dylan slammed his mouth against Jake’s and there was nothing soft or hesitant about it. Jake sucked on Dylan’s tongue, running his fingers up around his ear into his wet blonde hair. He was hard before he walked into the shower, but now his cock felt like marble, and Dylan’s swollen, uncut length was rising and stiffening between them. Jake tipped his pelvis a bit to make room, snaking his other hand between them to fist the two cocks together, squeezing and pumping simultaneously. Dylan let loose with a low groan.

Using his own fingers, Dylan worked his way down to the other side of Jake’s to form a constricting tunnel for the velvety smooth erections to pass through. Skin massaged skin and precum spilled from both cockheads, slicking the way along with the warm water. The sensations of slippery, rigid heat built and folded in on themselves, intimate and intense.

Jake was hanging on to Dylan, moaning into his neck and desperately trying to hold back his orgasm. One minute the passion was rising gently like a bubble, the next he was nearly beside himself as the flare of Dylan’s crown stroked his dick from top to bottom and stimulated the sensitive nerve endings until it was almost too much to bear. They set a frantic rhythm under the falling water, and Jake breathed in shallow gasps of Dylan’s name.

Dylan twisted in his lover’s arms in high arousal, arching his back, his shaft sliding gracefully across Jake’s. He could feel them pulsating, and he squeezed his eyes closed as all of a sudden he was riding a wave more pleasurable than one he ever achieved on his surfboard.

“Gonna cum, baby,” he cried into Jake’s hair. His toes curled and his arm whipped around his boy’s torso convulsively as hot semen streamed from his balls and coated their hands.

“Oh… oh god, Dylan.” The scream was muffled by Dylan’s shoulder Jake felt himself go weak with his own release spraying their stomachs. It was perfect only because it was Dylan who nestled into him, keeping him steady on his feet and covering him with tender kisses as he chanted his name in his ear.

They grinned tiredly at each other as their cum washed down their bodies and into the drain, and they quickly began to soap each other before the water cooled. Dylan insisted on washing Jake’s hair, and he returned the favor. They crashed into Jake’s bed and snuggled together to sleep another hour away.

Jake awoke to find Dylan talking on his cell phone in deep conversation. “Yes, thank you. No, that’s really awesome of you.” His eyes flicked up and noticed Jake stretching against the pillows. “He’s here now, so I’ll ask him and get right back as soon as I can. Love you guys- you’re lifesavers. Bye.”

Dylan took a deep breath and looked down at Jake with a sly grin. “What do your classes look like for the next couple of days?” It being Thanksgiving break, the school week was significantly shortened.

“No chemistry on Monday but I have a normal course load until Tuesday morning. My afternoon lab was canceled too.”

“Anything important you can’t miss?”

“Nothing pressing.” Jake stared at him intrigued, knowing Dylan was up to something.

At this time of year, there was a week or two where the pressure eased up a little heading into December and finals. Most of the professors appreciated that the students’ minds were not on their studies, and a lot of lecture halls had vacant seats this close to the holiday as young people began to fly home for family celebrations.

“What would you say if I told you we have permission to use my uncles’ cabin for the next two days?” Dylan was almost shaking with excitement.

Joy radiated out of Jake’s face. “Let’s see, um… ‘How soon can you get packed?’ Who wouldn’t want to exchange books for the mountains? Is there snow up there?”

“Three inches on the ground with a small storm expected late tonight which is supposed to drop another twelve.”

Jake smacked Dylan on the arm. “Then we had better get going if we want to get up there before dark. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll get snowed in.”

**

For it being the weekend before Thanksgiving, the traffic was light and the boys found themselves back in Aleppo Park before 11:30. Dylan pulled up to the Walker home just as Marcus was stepping out of the house, with Noah, Sage, Spencer and Luis behind him.

“Look who it is!” Noah yelled, bounding down the driveway to slap Dylan’s fingers before they had a chance to alight from the SUV. When Jake climbed out and walked around to pull his gear from the back Noah took in his nearly healthy appearance with a huge grin.

“Not even a limp, Jake. I’m impressed.”

Marcus leaned back into the house to yell for his mother and inform her that Jake was home before he joined his friends on the sidewalk. He had to agree with Noah that Jake did look good. Something was different about him and Dylan that he couldn’t put his finger on, but he was too busy with greetings to worry about it.

They were all college kids on basically the same schedule despite the varied schools they attended, and Spencer faked them out with a mocking sneer, “Have you heard the new rules about state university students who cut class around the holidays? They’re levying fines and revoking scholarships.”

Jake jumped in horror, his gullibility getting him for the second time that day. The tall blonde boy pointed his finger at him like it was gun and said, “Gotcha.” Dylan chased him a third of the way around the cul de sac before returning to the front of the house where Luis stood shaking his head and muttering in Spanish.

Pat was the one who figured out the new relationship, but then she had always had a way of guessing Jake’s moods better than most people did. Giving him a big squishy hug, she held her nephew back with her hands to stare into his green eyes. She liked the peace that stared back, especially when she noticed how at ease he seemed to be with Dylan who rested a light hand on his waist in a possessive fashion.

“Everything is back to normal, right?” she asked, glancing at Dylan for confirmation and tearing up a little in happiness. He checked with Jake, and then both boys grinned at her.

Sage was watching the exchange. “Oh my god, omigod,” she squealed, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. She threw her arms around first Dylan, then Jake and almost knocked them off their feet. “You two are back together.”

Jake blushed and the crew looked at first startled and then relieved. Marcus clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. Having to choose between you felt damn awkward.”

Noah asked if they wanted to hang out together. “We can’t,” Dylan replied. “We’re off to Big Bear until Monday.”

That announcement was greeted by all manner of catcalls and raunchy jokes until Jake pulled Dylan into the house to get away from the teasing. They decided he would go home, pack and return to pick him up in an hour, allowing them plenty of time to drive up the mountain during daylight hours.

They almost didn’t make it. Dylan had to borrow gloves from Marcus and the only warm coat he owned was at the bottom of one of his packed boxes, and he wasn’t going to use precious time hunting for it. Pat finally found a parka of Avery’s that he didn’t wear anymore. They shopped for food and couldn’t decide on what to eat; using the stove was a challenge they didn’t feel up to overcoming, and who wanted to cook a big fancy meal anyways? They drove over to get the keys from Chris and Bruce, and Jake was finally introduced with great fanfare to Dylan’s uncles who liked him immediately. Bruce was in a teasing mood and ribbed them about their plans for the long weekend until Chris threatened to muzzle him.

By two o’clock they were on their way northeast, hampered by a big-rig traffic accident on the 215 that put them up on Big Bear as the sun was going down. Fortunately they knew their way once they got into the cabin community or they never would have found it in the early dusk of the approaching storm.

“We seem to only use this place when it’s getting ready to rain or snow,” Jake complained good-naturedly as they emptied out the SUV of their supplies.

“I don’t know about you, but I like storms,” Dylan replied with a shiver. “But let’s go somewhere warmer to discuss it.”

The cabin was dark and chilly inside despite the fact that Bruce and Chris left the heater set at 66° through the cold season. Bruce had given them instructions about turning on the water next to the front gate, and they built a roaring fire in the fireplace to chase out the damp. Except for putting away perishables, everything else could wait, and they soon were seated on blankets in the living room. It was their favorite spot in front of stone hearth munching on their purchased dinner of Subway sandwiches.

They had been listening to Dylan’s iPod and enjoying the accompaniment of music to their dinner. He was mostly an alt-rock kind of guy which meant songs were easy to find and he had an extensive mix. When Gavin Rossdale’s Love Remains The Same came on he got a funny look on his face.

“Dance with me,” he said softly to Jake, taking his hand.

Jake gulped nervously. “I don’t dance… I mean, I don’t know how.” Shrugging, he added, “I never went to any of the dances in high school so there was no reason to learn.”

“Oh come on, you wuss.” Dylan jumped up and began to push the blankets aside away with his feet. When Jake made no move to join him he grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

“It’s easy,” he insisted, giving Jake a reassuring smile and switching hands so he faced him directly. “Just follow my lead.”

“So you’re guiding me, which means I’m…? No way.”

He was a masculine guy who, gay or not, wasn’t sure how to feel about submitting to a boyfriend. Acting offended, he laughed at the hurt pout on Dylan’s face until he saw how much it meant to him. “Okay, you big baby, I’ll dance with you.”

He stepped closer to Dylan and let him draw him into his embrace. Folding his hands against the larger man’s chest like he knew what he was doing, Jake felt Dylan’s arms go around him. It seemed natural to lay his head on his shoulder as their feet moved in little more than a shuffle. It made him feel strangely cherished.

As they swayed together, Dylan was whispering lyrics from the song as if to himself: “I never thought that I had anymore to give, pushing me so far. Here I am without you. Drink to all that we have lost; mistakes we have made. Everything will change but love remains the same.”

He pressed a kiss onto Jake’s forehead and whispered in a deep, raspy voice, “I used to listen to this song a lot after we broke up. It hurt, knowing that I’d lost you because I had treated you so shabbily. I never thought you could forgive me because I couldn’t forgive me either. Then your dad beat you up, and I truly believed you were gone forever. You would die or never come out of the coma, and there I’d be, missing out on all the chances I had during the last week of day camp when I could have apologized and didn’t. I would have to go on without you, knowing there was no way to ever make it up.”

Jake relaxed into him and let his warmth, his scent take him over. As much as he wanted to scold Dylan for revisiting the argument again, he didn’t have the heart. Maybe he needed to let him talk so he could get it out of his system. He at last reached the end of his account, and Jake cuddled in closer like he was trying to become part of him. Dylan held him tight and they slow-danced to one song after another, no matter what the tempo, by the light of the flames. Eventually they weren’t doing more than just standing in one spot and rocking back and forth, lost in the music and each other.

“Jake?” Dylan said presently, kissing the shell of his ear. “Would you let me make love to you?”

Jake’s eyes flew open and he raised his head. He knew, of course, this was where their intimacy would take them eventually.

Dylan took Jake’s rapid change of mood as hesitation, wondering if he’d read the signals wrong. Or maybe the position was wrong. “Uh… unless you, um… well, do you pitch or catch?”

Jake was about to ask what baseball had to do with anything when he realized what Dylan really meant. “I don’t know.” His face glowed like a stoplight. “This is new to me, so I have no preference.”

Dylan shrugged. “I don’t know either.” His face brightened. “We could play rock-paper-scissors.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jake giggled, amused at the idea of a silly kids’ game determining who would top or bottom. “Look, since you have at least some experience, why don’t you, uh… pitch tonight. The next time, we can change places and decide.”

“Oh god.” Dylan looked horrified. “I hope we don’t end up where we both prefer the same position.”

That set Jake to rolling his eyes at Dylan’s pessimism and looking for trouble where none existed, and he fell into him and tickled unmercifully until Dylan fell to the floor and begged him to stop. “If we’re going to do this, don’t one of us need to get a few things?”

They had already resolved not to use condoms. Dylan had been tested at the start of term as part of his water polo physical, and Jake’s virginity was firmly established. Neither wanted any silicone sheath robbing them of skin to skin contact. Jake was right, however, and Dylan hopped up to fetch several towels and a bottle of lube. “The gay man’s friend,” he stated.

They added more wood to the fire and prepared their love bed. Gratefully they fell into each other’s arms and began to kiss, little pecks followed by deep, tongue-filled passion that left them gasping. Dylan pushed Jake back into the mound of covers and rearranged his body above Jake’s and rolled over, so the smaller boy was on top of him.

Jake covered Dylan in kisses. After all the drama from the end of the summer on, it was like a gift to have him back. He loved the sweetness of his pink mouth, the curve of his cheek, the blonde stubble on his jaw. His fingers traced Dylan’s throat, and then he swooped in to suck and nibble a large love bit on the most sensitive part of his neck.

“Too many clothes,” Dylan complained.

Jake agreed. “Get me naked.”

Dylan stripped down and removed Jake’s clothing piece by piece, setting everything in a nice neat pile next to the couch. By the time Jake lifted his hips and his briefs slid down his legs, his cock was like stone and he was breathing shallowly. He was about to lose his virginity, and it was going to be with Dylan, the man he loved. Jake admitted to himself that he was afraid of the possible discomfort, but more than that, he was so turned on by the mental pictures of what was about to take place he wasn’t sure he’d last long enough to be fucked.

Dylan smiled down at Jake’s naked body and couldn’t help but consider himself one of the luckiest guys on the planet. His boy was so perfect. He loved running his finger through his golden brown curls, and his jade green eyes were mesmerizing. The way his cheeks turned pink when he blushed, the dimple that appeared when he smiled. Jake had just enough muscle definition throughout his torso, shoulders and thighs to prove he was an athlete without the overpowering physique of a gym rat. His package was perfect too- the right length, the right thickness- scrumptious.

“Up on your hands and knees, baby,” he told him. “Since you’ve never done this before, you are going to be tight, and I need to get you ready and loosen you up. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”

Jake gave him an anxious look before rocking up to land on all fours, and Dylan put a gentling hand on his hip before using his knees to spread Jake’s legs farther apart. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. If you don’t like what I’m doing or it’s too uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll work something else out. Just remember I love you and I want you to enjoy this.”

Jake nodded, trying not to be so scared or at least not act like he was. With one last glance into Dylan’s blue eyes he turned around and waited for his boyfriend to begin.

Dylan knelt behind him up close and stretched over him. Jake could feel his hard cock twitching between his butt cheeks. He was about to ask him what he was doing when he felt the other boy’s hands on his shoulders, pressing his fingertips into the muscles and massaging his heated skin. It felt good. Carefully he worked down and outwards along his sides, a particularly sensitive spot for Jake, and he whimpered at the little quivers Dylan’s touch awoke in him. His lover licked along his spine, nibbled each ridge and his hands kneaded the globes of his ass.

Jake groaned. He felt like he was being tortured. Slowly.

He heard Dylan open the bottle of lube and slick fingers skimmed down his crack to find his rosebud. Dylan’s index finger circled it lightly, and Jake clenched at the new sensation, surprised that it felt good. Around and around it prodded at him, and Jake’s asshole fluttered at the attempted intrusion.

Suddenly that finger zeroed in on him and slipped in up to the first knuckle, and Jake hissed in pain. It burned and he wiggled his hips instinctively as if trying to dislodge it. “Shh,” Dylan soothed, still rubbing his other hand firmly over Jake’s ass. “It’s supposed to get better after a few seconds.”

He was right; the pain receded, leaving a new feeling of fullness. Dylan began to saw his finger back and forth inside him, and Jake felt a brief spark of pleasure that flared brighter. More lube, another digit entered him with the same results, discomfort followed by adjustment. By the time Dylan slid the third finger in Jake was beginning to enjoy the intimate touch.

Dylan rotated his fingers, searching for the small lump that was supposed to…oh, there. He knew the exact moment he found it, because Jake trembled violently as his arms went out on him and his upper body crashed to the floor.

“Oh Jesus,” Jake panted in a mixture of lust and wonder. “Oh fuck… what was that?”

Dylan smiled and kissed his shoulder. “That, baby, is your prostate and the reason you’re going to love this.” With that, Dylan started thrusting his fingers in and out of the tight opening. He gently stretched him in all directions, stroking that nub pleasurably for a short time, then moving away altogether. Jake moaned, pressing back against the fingers to ride them. He didn’t care if he was acting slutty; he could feel need building ferociously inside him and was nearly in tears with it.

“Oh god, Dylan, I need you to fuck me.”

Dylan had to be positive Jake was ready for this; he felt such love for his boy and didn’t ever want him to regret this. “Are you sure, baby?”

“Oh yes… yes please,” he whispered, his head turned back to watch Dylan gazing at him in adoration.

Dylan nodded and removed his fingers, leaving a void that Jake felt keenly. His eyes widened, considering what was about to happen. Dylan was going to put his thick, hard cock up inside him. A tremor went through him.

“I’ll go slowly. Let me know if I hurt you. The important thing is to relax.” Jake nodded that he understood.

Dylan positioned himself directly behind Jake and tenderly pushed his shoulders and head back to the floor. “Like this,” he told him, calming him with a kiss to his tailbone. Jake’s hole winked invitingly, and he lined up his cock up to move forward slowly. An inch of the spongy head disappeared inside, and Dylan moaned at the constriction that seemed to pull at him.

Jake winced and tried not to cry out. Fuck, that hurt! It felt like Dylan was trying to shove a log up his ass, and he tensed up spontaneously. He wanted to tell him to stop, he wasn’t ready for this, but they had already gone this far. If they ended this now, he might never summon the courage to try again.

“Relax, baby,” Dylan said again. “It will be better soon.” He gave another small thrust, and the cockhead popped through the second ring of muscle, easing the pain just a bit. Jake took several deep breaths to quiet himself.

“Are you alright?” Dylan ran his hands down Jake’s flanks. The intensity of their love-making was hitting him full force, how this was the first time for Jake and feeling such privilege to be sharing the experience with him. But the responsibility was heady, and goose bumps broke out all over him.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jake gasped out. He was no longer a virgin. It was a giddy thought and, relaxing, he let his body release the tension. He stared up at those deep blue eyes in total trust. “Make love to me, Dylan.”

Dylan planted another kiss on his shoulder. “Let’s get you on your back so I see your face.” He pulled out of Jake with a moan. Jake grunted too at the emptiness, quickly flipped over and spread his legs wide. Dylan moved between them and pulled his feet to his shoulders. With a quick slide he was back inside of his lover.

Dylan pulled out before sinking back into him to slowly fill his channel, beginning with long, slow drives. Each advance wrest a sigh of bliss from Jake’s mouth until Dylan was fully seated and his balls slapped against Jake’s ass. Dylan was barely holding himself together; the ecstasy of being inside his boy was so strong. He was a snug fit, better than it had ever been with any girl, which fired off every nerve ending along his cock. “Damn, oh damn, Jake, it feels so good… so good.”

“It feels wonderful,” Jake cried out, his head whipping back and forth on the blanket. The feeling of Dylan’s warm, smooth cock in Jake’s ass was incredible. Jolts of pleasure sheered through him each time his length rubbed that sensitive spot and he could feel the pressure building. “Fuck me hard, Dylan.”

Dylan pulled Jake’s legs down, and he wrapped them around his waist as Dylan switched up his tempo to deep, quick jabs. He knew he was going to cum soon because he could feel the semen churning in his balls. It felt too amazing to last for long, like the stretching of a bow singing over a violin and seeking the end of the song. The urgency grew louder, and Dylan could no longer hold back.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum. I can’t stop it. Oh Jake!”

Like having a mind of its own, Dylan’s hips switched to autopilot and he reached for Jake’s cock, fisting it in desperation. He peppered Jake’s ass with quick strikes, and his molten seed shot from his pulsing tool in spurts that painted Jake’s gut and made him feel like he was going to pass out in rapture. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see; all he could do was hang on to Jake until he got to the other side.

The firm grip on Jake’s aching dick was too much, and over the edge he went into the hardest, most powerful orgasm of his life. “Dylan… god, Dylan,” he screamed, muscles taut as his essence splattered over his abdomen in milky streams. His fingers grabbed handfuls of his lover’s skin and Dylan crashed against him, shuddering violently. Mouths collided in a frantic kiss as they groaned together and returned to sanity.

Presently they both felt Dylan’s cock begin to go soft, and it fell out of Jake with a slight tickle, causing them both to giggle. Dylan rested his forehead against Jake’s. “Awesome, baby, that was awesome.”

Jake was still trying to get his breath back, and his fingers were skimming over Dylan’s sweat-slick shoulder. “I thought blowjobs were good, but I’ve never felt anything like that. You have to try this, Dylan.”

“Next time,” Dylan puffed, rolling off Jake to cuddle next to him and stare at the ceiling. “I’m too tired for now.

Jake glanced over at his boyfriend and had to know for his own sake. “Compared to making love to a female…?”

Dylan shook his head. “You are the first person I’ve ever made love to because I really cared. I only fucked girls. Being with you was by far better than being with any of them. I love you, and that makes all the difference.”

“I love you too.” Dylan’s sincere words were enough to still his fears. He was too tired to worry about it anyway, and Dylan passed him the towel to clean off his stomach and between his legs. Jake threw the blanket over them and they snuggled into a ball of sated happiness. It took no time at all before they dropped off to sleep.

**

It did indeed snow overnight, and the boys awoke to a winter wonderland the following morning. A foot and a half on the ground with it still coming down. Of course, they did what most young Californians did when confronted by the cold, white stuff. Whooping in glee, they hurriedly dressed and, bundled in boots, warm jackets and gloves, immediately ran outside to play. Scooping up handfuls of fluff, they began throwing snowballs at each other as they raced around the yard dodging and yelling. Half an hour later, with no feeling left in their fingers and the rest of their bodies frozen to the bone, they called it a draw and trudged back inside for breakfast. Dylan volunteered to make eggs, and Jake found a two-slice toaster in a cabinet that must have been at least thirty years old. However, it did make nice, crisp toast.

Dylan was spooning the scrambled eggs on their plates when he stood completely still and looked at Jake. “Hey, you didn’t have a nightmare last night.”

That reminder astonished Jake who by now was used to having at least one bad dream every night. “Hmm,” he teased. “Do you think it’s from being at the cabin instead of our dorm?”

Dylan snorted. “Maybe more like sleeping with your fascinating, handsome boyfriend instead of by yourself.”

“Where? I don’t see any fascinating, handsome boyfriend.”

Jake dodged the piece of egg that flew in his direction and then allowed himself to be caught for several minutes of blissful making out before publicly recanting and agreeing that yes, his new boyfriend was much more fascinating and handsome than the last whose name was also Dylan. Jake got a dark look, tempered with a slow smile, for that comment.

As they ate, they made plans for the day.

“Maybe you’re going to get your wish,” Dylan pointed outside where it was snowing so hard you could barely see the road. “If it doesn’t stop soon we might get snowed in.”

“Hmm,” Jake grinned, throwing his shoulder into Dylan’s in fun. “As much as I love Thanksgiving turkey, I could think of worse things than having to spend the week up here with you. As long as we have heat and food, that is.”

Dylan pointed the living room. “Fireplace and plenty of wood.” He pointed to the food cabinets. “Enough food too, even if most of it is canned. And there’s a grocery store in the village. We have it made.”

Jake took a sip of his coffee. “Have you ever been up here skiing?”

“Oh no,” Dylan laughed. “Uncle Chris and Uncle Bruce tried several times when I was growing up to teach me, but I’m hopeless. Put me on a surfboard, and I’m killer. Stick me on a snowboard or in skis, and I’m taking off for the trees.”

Jake inaudibly sighed in secret relief. He had learned to ski in Madera, but there was no way he’d risk it now. Not with is half-healed knee and recently repaired arm. But the last thing he wanted was to hold Dylan back from an activity because he wasn’t able to participate. Maybe down the line when they both knew what his permanent limitations were, he’d volunteer ski instructions again, but that was years away. And then he smiled because he was thinking of years away with Dylan.

Following breakfast, they cleaned up and decided to visit Big Bear City. It was rather a surreal landscape walking around the same touristy stores they’d visited in July, now covered in white with icicles hanging from the eaves. Some of them had decorated early for Christmas and a few even changed their wares according to the season. Instead of bins full of baseball caps and sunglasses emblazoned with the words ‘Big Bear, CA’, now it was wool caps and scarves.

The smell of baking pie brought them into one of the village eating spots. The menu claimed a lunch special of hearty soups and fresh bread, and they were famished already. Jake chose minestrone, and Dylan selected chicken vegetable. The food was filling, and they each had a slice of hot apple pie and icecream for dessert.

The snow stopped as they walked to Dylan’s SUV, and they could see dusky blue sky peeking over the top of the trees to the west. It was four o’clock and the sun was ready to set. Driving back to the cabin, they planned out their dinner for later. Beforehand, a shower and before that, a snowman. With the completion of their four foot tall gentleman, they went inside just as cold as that morning even if they didn’t have to dig melting snow out of their ears.

A hot, lusty shower was up next with lots of mutual hand play to get them off in the space that was even smaller than their dorm shower. They put in two hours working on homework assignments from their laptops, and they baked a fresh pizza they had bought in the village for dinner. As darkness settled in, so did peace.

“You know, once we get out of college and start making some decent money we should invest in a place of our own up here,” Jake ventured. “I’d love a cabin like this to relax in every other weekend.”

Dylan stared at him, realizing that Jake was speaking of a future with him in it. “Yeah, baby, that’s a great idea. I’ve seen ‘for sale’ signs on several nice cabins I wouldn’t mind owning.”

The silence stretched easily between them again, with the boys concentrating on their work. At nine, Jake stretched and closed his laptop. “Are you done yet?”

Dylan looked at him over the top of his monitor and shut the top. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Waiting for what?” Jake arched his eyebrow and grinned.

Setting his textbook aside, Dylan whispered, “I’ve been waiting for my sexy baby to go to bed with me.”

Jake was instantly hard.

They took turns in the bathroom and clothing disappeared quickly. Jake groaned at the sight of Dylan’s gorgeous body, sculpted from months of water polo. He pushed him down to the floor in front of the blazing fire, watching it play over his golden skin and licked his lips. Jake gave into the passion firing inside him, and he launched himself at him and attacked his mouth with a hunger that had been building all evening. Delicious kisses passed between them that grew in intensity, and he thrust his tongue between Dylan’s lips, nibbling on the bottom one. His fingers traced down his jaw to the muscular back and shoulders, and he made love to him with caresses and endearments.

Dylan watched the light shining in his baby’s eyes and let himself finally be forgiven. His lips moved to the hollow of Jake’s throat where he raised a bruise that made Jake gasp in bliss. First fingers, then his mouth slid to Jake’s sensitive nipples, and he cried out as Dylan teethed them into little knots. Sliding down his torso, he hovered over his groin and flicked a tempting glance at him before taking Jake’s cock lovingly into his mouth.

He ran his tongue around the head, tasting the precum that welled from the slit and sucking lightly. Jake groaned, his hips rolling into a soft rhythm without force. Sucking harder, Dylan drew Jake’s whole cock into his mouth, letting his throat muscles massage the head, and Jake exploded with a cry, fisting the blankets beneath him.

Jake reached for Dylan, but he entwined his fingers in his and pulled his hand away from his cock. Jake threw him a confused look but his boyfriend smiled at him.

“You can wake me up in a special way in the morning,” he said, his eyes twinkling and pulling him in for a deep kiss that shared Jake’s flavor between them. “But for now, someone promised me last night that he was going to make love to me and I’m ready to take him up on the promise.”

Jake felt his whole body come alive. He’d had to keep his thoughts off of tonight, his excitement was so high. But now that it was here, there was no need. He threw his arms around Dylan and responded to his kiss. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to watch you again,” Dylan smiled, arranging himself on the blankets and pulling his feet up to his ass to offer himself to his boyfriend. “See if this works.”

Remembering how Dylan had opened him up the night before Jake coated his fingers in lube and moved between his legs. Gently he brushed his fingers from Dylan’s balls down the perineum and across his asshole. Dylan whimpered, and his hips twitched searching for another touch. Circling the hole, Jake saw the nerves jump, and he dipped his finger into the hot channel. Dylan squirmed in a combination of pain and desire. More lube, one finger became two, moving within to prepare him, and Dylan’s hips rocked as pleasure soon took over.

Jake watched in wonder as his lover fucked himself on his hand. Adding the third finger, scissoring and widening, he turned them upwards and aimed for the prostate. Dylan nearly came off the floor. “Oh yeah, mmm” he moaned.

Jake continued to prepare Dylan until he couldn’t take anymore. “Love you, baby. Need you inside me.”

“I love and need you too,” Jake murmured, taking his legs and pushing them up his body. He leaned in and pressed the tip of his dick into the tiny pucker, feeling the muscle resist. Slowly he pushed forward, the flesh gave way and the head popped in. Dylan’s breath caught at the sharp discomfort and he shut his eyes tightly.

“Are you doing okay?” Jake whispered, lowering his body over Dylan so he could brush tiny kisses over Dylan’s face and neck. Even though it was only the head of his cock, it was like magic being inside of him like this.

“Just hold up a sec.” Dylan’s voice was deep with desire, and was almost too overcome for words. Part of it was the pain, but mostly it was that Jake making love to him was better than he could have ever dreamed. By keeping his eyes closed he could simply enjoy the fullness that came with it.

“Relax, Dylan,” Jake begged, feeling the tension in the muscles underneath him. “Remember what you told me last night.”

Dylan nodded, giving himself completely to his lover’s gentle embrace. He did as told, feeling the pain begin to diminish now that Jake’s cock had passed through the stricture, knowing he could take this. “Please move,” he begged, reaching his hand up to stroke his face.

By slow inches Jake began to slide in deeper, filling Dylan in a gentle rhythm. His pubes brushed his ass, signaling that he was seated, and he let Dylan’s legs circle his hips. Jake began to drive his cock in and out of his ass. He knew that they were on track to a quick end even as he kept his strokes even and slow. The sensation of his balls smacking against Dylan’s ass was almost too arousing.

“I can’t believe how hot and tight this feels,” Jake gasped. His cock felt like it had gone to heaven.

“I can’t even start to describe how it feels,” Dylan breathed with a groan. “Go faster.”

Jake began to piston into him harder. Dylan moaned as his hard length slid in and out of his ass. Then Jake leaned over him and planted his hand next to his shoulder, shifting his balance so he could pump Dylan’s cock with each thrust. Dylan moaned again, the added sensation ramping up his pleasure and steering him into what was certain to be a strong orgasm.

“Before I’m done I’m going to make you scream as loud for me as I did last night,” Jake huffed, sweat plastering his curls to his face.

“Do it,” Dylan gasped, and he felt Jake’s hips begin to corkscrew, sliding his dick against his prostate with every thrust.

It didn’t take long for either of them at the pace he set. The twin sensations of sharp, short, bursts massaging his prostate and Jake’s handiwork on his cock, and Dylan was gone. “Oh shit, Jake, cumming,” he cried, arching into him. His hardness throbbed and warm cum spurted between them, coating their abdomens and Jake’s hand.

The sensation of Dylan’s hole spasming around his cock was all it took. From head to toe, Jake felt his body tense and, groaning deeply, he began to erupt. He held the blonde’s slim hips in a vice grip as he stiffened and strained for that extra fraction of an inch in depth, his tight balls unloading and filling Dylan’s ass with thick sperm.

Holding on to each other through the fierce emotions until their bodies quieted, Jake and Dylan talked about the morning and preparing to go home. They talked about family and school and moving in to an apartment at the end of the semester. Of Jake’s continued rehab and tough classes, loving family and friends, and putting Jake’s dad out of their minds until his trial, then never to think about him again. They kissed and talked until they began to feel drowsy, and Jake’s eyes closed.

Dylan watched Jake sleep, playing with his hair. After four months he could finally let all the pain and misunderstanding from the summer disappear like the smoke from the fire drifting up the chimney. Between his accusations and the near-disastrous beating by Jake’s father, it was the kind of situation that either broke you down or drove you together. He was fortunate that Jake had the capacity to love and forgive. He would protect and care for his baby for as long as Jake needed him, until the end of time if allowed. Sleepily his eyes closed, and he knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

**

Epilogue (Four years later):

“You have to try, Dylan. You give up far too easy.”

Dylan surveyed Jake in defeat. His boyfriend’s once long hair was cropped close but still curly and his jade eyes, hidden by wrap-around sunglasses to protect against the glare from the snow. He looked such at ease in everything he did, but Dylan knew the truth. Jake was unmatched for tenacity and hard work.

He was also a harsh taskmaster.

“I’ve tried, Jake. Every single winter for the past three years. I can’t ski, I can’t snowboard. Why won’t you just give up?”

Jake growled at him. “Because if I could get past my disabilities to play baseball for the Dirtbags in my junior and senior years of college, you can certainly ski down a little bunny hill. All it takes is balance which I know you have because you can surf. It also takes trust. You do trust me, don’t you Dylan?”

Oh god, if there was anyone in the world worth Dylan’s trust, it was Jake. They had been partners in everything since that crazy year in college after the summer they broke up, and they relied on each other for everything important. Moving in together in the middle of Dylan’s junior year had solidified their relationship, and they were still passionate for each other in a way their friends envied.

Now living in Irvine, Jake was employed as a microbiologist by OTJ Corporation while Dylan went for his masters in aviation engineering at UC- Irvine. Every winter they managed at least three skiing trips to the uncles’ cabin where Jake would patiently try to teach Dylan at a nearby ski resort. They had a growing savings account that they had been setting aside all the money they could afford, to buy their own cabin some day.

“Whatever,” Dylan returned, rolling his eyes. He pushed off with his ski pole, embarrassed by his lack of fortitude and shamed because Jake was right. It took him over a year of agonizing rehab, but Jake had overcome the injuries from his father’s beating to play again. So he would try… again… to get down the kiddy slope at the resort.

On the flat he was fine, but downhill skiing meant skiing downhill, and there was the little knob at the top before the uneven terrain kicked in. He managed to make it over the slight hillock and, wonder of wonders, was still on his feet. Dylan could hear Jake cheering his progress from the top, could see other beginners, especially the children, staring at him, but he didn’t care. He was doing this for his man.

The middle of the hill was a bit steeper, slightly more difficult. He could feel it in his toes, but he managed to turn his feet just a bit to the side, and he slowed down. Okay, that worked. Actually the chill of the wind whipping across his cheeks felt kind of nice. It was a cold, crisp day and… oh, that was a bit of surprise where the snow was icy and he almost slipped. He was heading for a patch that flattened out, and all of a sudden realized he was at the bottom of the hill. He’d skied the hill.

Jake came to a slushy stop behind him yelling like a little kid and threw his arms around him. Their skis were a little crossed and they tipped precariously, but Dylan could tell Jake was ecstatic over his triumph.

“You did it, Dylan. You did it.”

Dylan grabbed Jake and planted a big kiss on his mouth. “Only with your teaching and your patience, baby. You set a good example.”

“You’re the one who had to believe and make the effort.” Jake stared into the cerulean blue eyes that had drawn him in that long-ago night by the swimming pool. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Dylan replied with another kiss. “Now, can we go back to the cabin? I’d rather be doing other things.”

Jake lifted an eyebrow, knowing exactly what was on Dylan’s mind. “Yeah, you big baby, but we’re coming back tomorrow. I’m going to put you on a lift and make you really ski.”

“Ah, no, you can’t make me…”

And they climbed the hill towards home.



The End

© 2012 by Janelle Caves

A Love Unexpected Ch. 22

Coercion Or Convenience, It Definitely Isn't Love Yet



“Dude, it will be okay,” Marcus urged as he followed Dylan through the door of Jake’s room into the busy hall of the hospital. “Give him a few days.”

Marcus seemed to think that Dylan was hurt and angry and needed to be calmed down like a petulant child. Okay, hurt he’d own up to, but he fully deserved Jake’s anger. The anger he directed at himself. Why was Marcus acting so surprised? Jake had every right in the world to ask him to leave. He understood his reasons and had no intentions of challenging him over it.

“You don’t have to follow me, Marc,” he shot back over his shoulder, taking a deep breath. “Stay with Jake. I’m okay, really. If he needs time, I can give it to him. If he wants me to keep away from him, I’m okay with that too, at least temporarily. We can decide how permanent once he’s out of here and a hundred percent.”

Marcus seemed unconvinced and kept trailing behind him. Past Carolyn and Pat who were speaking with Jake’s neurologist as they followed the boys’ progress with owlish eyes before turning back towards Jake’s room. Around several vital sign monitors parked against the wall and beyond the busy nurse’s station towards the bank of elevators.

“As long as you remember what Dr. Suarez said about him… about people waking up from comas. They have problems with memory and get confused easy. Jake isn’t really angry at you.”

Dylan almost laughed outright in self-mockery. There was nothing in Jake’s words that came across as confused. He sounded as if he knew exactly who Dylan was and hated him for being there. But Dylan was a big boy. He could swallow his pride and keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“I know he will have a lot to get used to once he wakes up, and the last thing he needs is my presence making it worse for him. I’ve already caused enough trouble, and no, that’s not self-pity, it’s fact. The least I can do is relieve him of having to think about our last fight and all the shit I put on him.”

“But Dylan…” After everything Dylan had done for Jake in the past ten days, Marcus felt awful that he was being chased off. It was such a conflict of feelings he’d been going through lately; anger at his best friend for hurting his cousin, immediately switching over to gratitude for Dylan’s part in the rescue and now feeling bad over Jake driving him away again.

They stopped by the elevator, and Dylan pushed the down button and waited for the lift to arrive. Marcus looked truly worried about him, and he tried to make it right. “I can’t believe that you’re out here with me when Jake just woke up from his coma. He’s the one who needs you, not me. So go back to him, Marcus, and make sure he’s alright. I’ll live.”

The elevator dinged to announce their floor, and the boys moved back a little as a man and his young daughter got out. Dylan stepped inside and pivoted on his foot, and the last thing he saw was Marcus staring at him in a woebegone fashion.

“Go.”

Back in his room, Jake was wondering where everyone disappeared to. He didn’t feel quite real, sort of woozy with his senses fading in and out. For some reason he couldn’t open his mouth at all and there was pain in his jaw when he tried to force it. Twinges skittered through his chest and stomach. Weight around his knee, his left hand was splinted and a sharp ache in his other arm too. He could smell disinfect, and the beeping of monitoring equipment sounded close to his ear. He definitely seemed to be in a hospital given all the stimuli. He vaguely suspected that he was hopped up on some good drugs.

Jake opened his eyes to a frugal, efficient and questionably sterile room and wanted to jump out of his skin. The IV line hooked to his arm was enough of a giveaway, not to mention that his chest was a mess of leads attached to any part of his bare anatomy that wasn’t covered by medical tape. There was another bandage encasing his shoulder and a fiberglass cast from his armpit to his hand. He didn’t want to look at why he couldn’t wiggle his fingers or move his left leg, knowing there was damage there too. He most definitely could not open his mouth, and his tongue felt wires attached to his teeth.

Two thoughts popped into his mind instantly. One, how was he going to play baseball with all these injuries? Despite the strong certainty that he had pain medication flowing into him, he could intuitively tell that they were fairly extensive.

Two, there was only one reason he could think of for needing to be in a hospital, and that was because his father must have pounded him. That’s right, he dimly remembered George and Tony showing up at the front door and forcing their way inside. His father angry that he’d sneaked away in May and at his mother for helping him. He began hitting him and calling him names, insisting he was sleeping with every man in sight.

No, only one man… Dylan… but he didn’t tell him that. Blearily he wondered if Tony helped beat him up too.

Dylan.

Dylan was here. No, he had been here but he wasn’t now. Jake had sent him away, hadn’t he? How strange the sight of him was, his bright blue eyes overjoyed to see him. Why would Jake waking up seem like the best thing that ever happened to him? Why was he even in his room, and why wasn’t Marcus furious with him? He had immediately run after Dylan when he told him to leave, acting worried about him. Nothing made sense.

Where was everyone?

Just last week—he thought it was last week—Dylan walked out of his life. No phone calls, no texts, no attempts to see him in all that time. Just that unpleasant encounter in the parking lot at the rec center causing Jake to decide to leave town. He didn’t want to run into him accidentally, and it wasn’t reasonable to expect Dylan to avoid the same places he hung out at with Marcus. Oh, that’s right, he’d told Marcus to make up with Dylan, so was that the answer? That was quick. It made him feel a little jealous that it only took a matter of hours for them to make it good between them again. What the hell!

Pat and Carolyn returned, chattering softly. Jake fuzzily remembered his mother had been there earlier, but he gave her another smile when she bent over to kiss his forehead. Both sisters had tears in their eyes, and Jake knew it was important but… Suddenly, he was too dizzy to figure it out. Hmm. He’d worry about it when he woke up. He was so tired again.

Marcus walked into the room to find Jake resting quietly and his mother and aunt looking at him for answers. “He saw Dylan and told him to leave. I had to talk to him and make sure he wasn’t upset.”

Both women gazed at Jake sadly. All Carolyn had heard about the split that there was a misunderstanding about some boy from Madera at their college, and they’d had a huge fight over it. Patricia and Marcus had been vague on the details, but she assumed harsh words had been said and Dylan had broken up with Jake.

Still, she felt no real anger towards the older boy. She recognized how transient many teen relationships were and knew Jake could be stubborn. Besides, that the person her youngest son adored was male took some getting used to. It was a hard enough concept to weed her way through for now without assigning blame. There were more important things to worry about, like Jake waking up. The animal Carolyn chose to focus her rage on would hopefully rot in prison for the rest of his life.

Patricia worried for both Jake and Dylan. Her heart went out to Dylan who, even though he was to blame initially, had proven his love by unselfishly spending every night at the hospital with the injured boy until he was nearly exhausted himself.

“Dr. Suarez says to try not to overwhelm Jake with questions and answers for today,” his mother cautioned. “There will be time enough tomorrow for learning details like the extent of his injuries and what will be required to fully heal. He suggested we stay as vague as possible unless it begins to upset him.”

Marcus nodded. It was a relief to put off any heavy discussion with Jake for another day, but sooner or later, he must make him understand how much the whole situation had changed in ten days. It wasn’t as if the fight over Tony was no longer important, but considering the scare since that terrible morning when they’d burst into the house to find Jake half-dead, it definitely wasn’t as relevant. He hoped he would forgive Dylan because with all he had done for Jake, he at least deserved his friendship. Marcus was also positive that Dylan loved his cousin and Jake loved him back whether they were willing to admit it or not.

Still coming out of his coma, Jake slept off and on all the rest of the day. When he was awake, his jaw made it difficult to talk. He didn’t feel like asking questions, and nobody pushed him to remember. Several of his doctors making their hospital rounds over the afternoon checked out his progress, but he didn’t have the strength to listen to them discuss him with his mother and aunt.

Except to use the restroom or eat, Marcus stayed with him in his room with a miserable look on his face. “What’s wrong?” Jake grimaced more than once through the wires. But Marcus just shook his head and smiled, telling him several times it was good he was finally awake. Jake didn’t exactly comprehend what was so ‘finally’ about it but he could see the worry.

By mid-afternoon he did begin to get a strange feeling that a length of time had passed while he was asleep. Maybe it was the way the family whispered around him, but when he asked it was like a wall went up. Had he been more alert the secrecy would’ve made him angry. Everyone was focusing on how he felt and talking about him eating solid food again, maybe getting him up and moving around by the next morning. He felt like an invalid that had become a burden to his family. His mom had a job up in Fresno so why wasn’t she there? Oh, that’s right, it was the weekend. Or was it?

Then to completely throw his equilibrium into disarray, David and Adam bustled into his room as he pushed aside his liquid dinner in a cup of some kind of bland cream soup with pureed vegetables. Both acted hearty and relieved, and Jake had no way of knowing how excited they were to find him awake and relatively aware after days of unconsciousness.

David looked at Marcus and asked, “Where’s the Crazy Eights champ? Maybe Jake is feeling up to playing a round or two.”

Marcus mouthed, “Not now,” and looked decidedly anxious. Jake wondered why. Adam shrugged his shoulders and changed the subject.

Hmm. He kept drifting in and out. It was now nine o’clock and he looked at the people around his room. Cousin, aunt, mother, brothers, boyfriend. Dylan was here, right? Nope, no boyfriend… former boyfriend… ex-boyfriend.

Something nagged at Jake—Dylan’s eyes. Those beautiful cerulean irises edged in silver and how lit up they were as he stood across the bed from Marcus. His cousin was telling a joke. Dylan laughed. The first indication that someone besides Marcus was in the room with him, and he recognized Dylan through his laughter. He looked at him… how happy Dylan was. Happy because of him? But Dylan left and so did Marcus, leaving him alone in his hospital room. He told him to leave.

Jake must have dozed off before the end of visiting hours because the next thing he knew it was 10:30 and he was tired of resting. He wasn’t in pain, but he was certain now that he was getting regular medication through his IV. He turned on the television but nothing interested him so he settled for a cooking show on baking chicken with oranges. It made him hungry. When Shannon, the night assistant, came in after two he was still awake.

She was in her late twenties with long blonde hair in a ponytail. “Hey, Jake,” she said with a wink. “You’re looking good, hun. Where’s your better half?” She looked around curiously as if expecting another person to be hiding in the shadows.

His what? “I don’t know…”

She saw his puzzlement. Shannon, used to dealing with post-coma patients and their confusion, decided to help. “Dylan… you know. Tall, sexy guy with pretty eyes and blonde hair to die for, has been here every single night reading books to you?”

“He went home,” Jake managed to get out. Dylan read to him? Surely not. He mimed that it was just him.

"Well, he sure is a devoted boyfriend,” Shannon gushed with a big smile.

“Not my boyfriend,” he gasped out. He could still see Dylan’s angry face mocking him.

“I’m sorry. That’s what all the nurses heard.” She walked over to his IV stand and began adjusting a valve and pushing buttons. “He was a right mess when you were brought in, crying and all, so concerned over your injuries, especially the coma. The day crew said they had to shoo him out of the hospital every morning just to make him get some sleep. If you had been out much longer, we were going to set up a cot for him.”

He didn’t want to discuss Dylan, no matter how loyal and dedicated she made him sound… or maybe because of it. This was the first direct hint that it wasn’t Saturday anymore. “How long?” he croaked.

“How long have you been here?” Jake nodded, and Shannon pulled herself up to give him a sharp look, like maybe she shouldn’t be so free with the information. “Well, I…”

“Please?”

She felt sorry for him, and his begging eyes did her in. “Do you remember when you were admitted?”

Jake had to reflect. “Saturday… First weekend… August.”

“August fourth,” she supplied. “Today is the fourteenth… well, actually now it’s Wednesday, the fifteenth.”

Jake fell back against the pillows, stunned. He’d been out for ten days. Ten days? He remembered next to nothing, not even much about that Saturday. Since waking that morning, he had done a fairly thorough evaluation on his aches and pains and came to the conclusion that he was pretty badly banged up. His father had done this to him. His father had put him in the hospital. A big part of him hoped that George was dead.

What had Shannon said about Dylan—that he’d been there every night reading to him. Crying over him. That was not possible. Why would he bother to do that? Did it mean that Dylan wasn’t angry at him anymore? Who the hell cared! The way Marcus had run after him when he walked out was also a sign of a lot of changes in the past ten days he wasn’t aware of. Marcus had forgiven Dylan, but it didn’t mean he could.

Shannon suggested a mild sedative, and he agreed, even though he wasn’t tired. Being awake for several hours had helped to clear his mind, and now he could see how much his loved ones had been encouraging his avoidance by side-stepping his requests and changing the subject. It upset him, come to think of it. Jake was determined not to let them put him off, as much as they thought they were doing what was best for him. Tomorrow he would find out what was going on. Now that he knew the truth, he had a lot of questions that needed answers, and nobody was going to keep him in the dark.

Jake allowed his mother and aunt’s bustling around the next morning waiting for them to pull up chairs and launch into an explanation about his recent past, but all they did was make vague references to how much better he looked and how glad they were that he was improving. He had to wait for Marcus to arrive closer to lunch, and then for the nurses to take away his unpalatable meal concoction of thin mashed potatoes and fortified gravy. If he didn’t get something solid to bite into soon he was going to scream.

Carolyn and Pat walked out the door on their way to the cafeteria and he wanted to beg them to bring food back to him. Marcus sat down next to the bed trying to find something innocuous to talk about.

Jake was having none of it. Jake pointed to a pad and paper he had been using to communicate since talking was so tiring, and he scowled to show he meant business. Marcus handed him the items, and he wrote, ‘11 days here, you + Dylan friends, why?’

His cousin threw him a guilty look, and Jake demanded, “Tell me the truth.”

Marcus nodded as if expecting the cross-examination, but he was hesitant at first. “To start with, I don’t know the reasons yet why Dylan went ballistic on you over the yearbook. Noah says there is a legit story there. He doesn’t agree with how he handled it but it wasn’t all bullshit, okay?”

Jake was fairly sure of what was coming, and he felt the pressure on him to make this right with Dylan. While it helped to know his behavior wasn’t totally random, it didn’t make up for the way he had treated him. ‘Ask Noah?’ he wrote.

“You should probably get Dylan’s side of the story from him.” Jake’s face set in a stubborn scowl, and Marcus sighed in resignation. “If you don’t want to ask him, Noah will be glad tell you. Now that everyone else has listened to his side, they kind of understand why he freaked out.”

Jake started to tell Marcus he didn’t want to ask Dylan anything but shucked it off along with the annoyance that their friends seemed to be further up-to-date than he was. They had already chosen sides, meaning he was going to be the bad guy if he didn’t make a solid effort to forgive his ex. However, there was a lot more to Marcus' tale, and he suspected they didn’t have much time before the women returned.

Marcus took in Jake’s impatient look and continued. “So the morning we went out for breakfast and left you at the house, Noah says he called you and told you that he and the gang were going over to say goodbye.”

Jake nodded, remembering this tidbit for the first time even as Marcus brought it up. He didn’t take the time to write. “Noah called. Doorbell rang… thought Noah. Opened door to Dad, Tony.”

Marcus groaned. Even though they had been finding out information from Kelsey that made it beyond anyone’s control, the fact was that Noah, the twins, Luis and Dylan had arrived at the Walker home far later than they planned. Their delay in getting all the facts from her before dashing off to the Walkers’ had given George time to hurt Jake badly.

Jake was still talking. “Dad and Tony walked in. Angry at Moms.” Jake pantomimed both of them, meaning both Carolyn and Patricia. He pointed to himself. “Called me whore.” Marcus let out a grunt of anger. “Punched me over and over. Tony watched.” His voice was bitter.

“Well, maybe,” Marcus said doubtfully because he wasn’t there during that part and didn’t know Jake’s side of it. “In the end, Tony was trying to pull him off you. That’s when we showed up, and he was screaming that your father was going to kill you. Which he would have if…” Marcus ducked his head.

“If?” Jake urged. He knew they were getting to the thorny part of it now.

Marcus let out with a heavy sigh and steepled his fingers against his lips, thinking for awhile. “You asked, so don’t get mad when I tell you this, but Dylan is why you’re still here. He saved you, Jake.”

Haltingly but determined to make his cousin face the truth, Marcus disclosed the events of that Saturday morning. The way the group had conspired to sneak Dylan over to the house to try to dissuade him from moving to Venice and Kelsey’s sudden appearance at the Moores’. How suspicious her teasing little nuggets of information made him until at last he wrung the whole truth from her. Marcus made it brief but factual, and Jake found himself believing it against his will.

“Not only did he go after Kelsey and lead the charge to rescue you from your dad,” Marcus concluded, “but he did a damned good job of first aid and taking care of your injuries until the paramedics arrived. Everyone says he should switch majors and go into pre-med. Dylan would make a first-class doctor.”

Jake wrote fast: ‘So gratitude is 4 supposedly saving my life?’

“There is no ‘supposedly’ about it, Jake,” Marcus sputtered angrily. “Kelsey told him everything about her contact with Tony and how he and George were driving down to Aleppo Park that day. He put two and two together to realize that you were in grave danger. When we broke into the house your father was trying to choke you.”

‘How can you act like what he did is nothing?’

“I’m not pretending it didn’t happen or agreeing he was right,” Marcus exclaimed. “I’m moving past it.”

Jake set his face angrily and scrawled, ‘Moving past it? You were there that day in your backyard. You heard what he said to me. He DUMPED me, Marc. He was brutal to me at camp the following week.’

“Can’t you be willing to admit he made a mistake the same way Dylan knows he did?” Marcus pleaded. “Call it extenuating circumstances, but he’s more than made up for it. I talked to him every day he came to visit you. He cares about you, Jake.”

“He doesn’t give a shit about what happens to me. He just feels guilty.” Jake felt like chucking his pad of paper at his cousin for being so gullible.

Marcus fixed Jake with blazing eyes. “I’m going to give you a pass on that statement because I know you’ve been out of it… sick… whatever. But if you can honestly believe that to be true after everything he’s done, then you are just as much of a douche as he was. Maybe more. You didn’t see him the day your dad beat you up.”

He began tearing up. “When I ran into the house and saw all that blood and Uncle George with his hands around your neck and you not moving, I thought you were already dead. We pulled him off you, but then everyone kind of froze in panic. Not Dylan—he got to work. He checked your breathing, and he knew what to do and what to leave alone for the EMTs. He was scared and wanted to rip George’s head off, but he kept to his task. Seeing to your welfare was the most vital part.

“Then we get to the hospital and Sage comes over and tells me what Dylan did to Kelsey and how he knows he was out of line with you. So I, you know, I think… I think I at least owe him a word of thanks for being smart and putting it all together to alert us that you were in trouble. And you know what he said? He told me not to thank him because it was his fault you were injured. You shouldn’t have been there alone in the first place. His stupidity and big mouth put you at Uncle George’s mercy because if he hadn’t accused you of all that stuff he would’ve been with you. How that bullshit got back to Kelsey and she used it to tell Tony where your father could find you. Even yesterday when you kicked him out of here, he understood and said he deserved it.

Marcus stared at him, wanting him to at least make an effort to listen to the truth. “For the past ten days he’s spent most of his time here with you. Mom, Aunt Carolyn and I would come to see you in the morning, and he would be asleep in a chair, and we could tell he’d been here all night. He’d leave and grab a couple hours sleep and be right back here.”

Jake shrugged in embattled confusion, and Marcus could see him fighting his fear with hope. He wanted to think that all was not lost. “It’s totally up to you, Jake, whether you want to trust Dylan enough to get back together, but at least have the decency to cut him some slack. I know he didn’t act like it that last week, but he still cares about you, I know he does.”

Peripherally, Jake thought this was more or less the truth too. Again as if in a dream state, recollections abruptly came back of late night visits and being read to by a warm, familiar voice, just like the nurse had said. A man held his hand tenderly and cried over him, brokenly begging for forgiveness for fucking up and swearing that he loved him. When he woke up Dylan had looked so happy standing next to his bed… and so crushed when Jake told him to go home.

However even if he was sure the last was real, couldn’t the first part be a coma-induced dream because he wanted it to be true? With only Marcus’ short justification making a dent in the details from the past ten days, Jake didn’t know how to reconcile the two Dylans. One shouting at him angrily without giving him a chance to defend himself and leaving his heart in the dust, the other grieving that his callous actions were liable for his father finding and injuring him. If he had been ready to exonerate Dylan, Marcus enlightenment was a good start. But no matter how much his cousin pushed him, he wasn’t.

Suddenly he was tired again, as if the least little amount of exertion exhausted him, and it was frustrating. He knew it would take time to recover from the coma, but he wanted to stop being the sick kid everyone worried over. He was supposed to be getting ready to begin his sophomore year of college and he was trapped in a hospital bed.

Jake forced himself to relax. What Dylan had done for him should have been reassuring but it added to his disorientation. He’d lost so many days in that room, never to get them back. The real villains were Tony and his dad. He wondered if he’d ever remember the events clearly and decided maybe he didn’t want to. Settling back under the blankets, he found a comfortable position. By the time Carolyn and Patricia returned he was asleep again.

Two days later he was ready for discharge. His physicians had made him fully aware of his limitations, and he struggled hourly not to become disillusioned by the extent of them. His chances of playing baseball for the Dirtbags were doubtful unless he was willing to undergo extensive rehabilitation, and even then there were no guarantees. The crushed wrist and fingers and an arm pinned in three places could seriously compromise the power in his swing and make throwing a ball cumbersome. It wasn’t just the torn muscles in his shoulder; the repaired tendon in his knee would most likely give him problems for the rest of his life. The question of whether the university would extend a scholarship to an injured player after this upcoming season was a problem he would have to face once he ended rehabilitation. A physiotherapist had already been around twice to exercise his knee, and he expected the rest to be equally unpleasant.

As for the rest, his ribs were mending, the bruises were nearly gone and his incisions were mostly a dull ache. He could expect to live with his jaw wired shut for another two weeks at least, and that was going to be the worst of all because he could barely talk and had to drink every meal. Given what he knew about his injuries, he was indeed lucky he wasn’t dead or still comatose. Walking was stiff and painful and the use of crutches impossible. He could hobble between rooms, for instance, but for longer distances he would have to be resigned to using a wheelchair. Already, Pat had transformed a first floor den over to make him a bedroom so he wouldn’t have to worry about the stairs.

Jake arrived home to excited fanfare from the whole family including his brothers who wanted to throw him a welcome home celebration. The twins showed up with Luis and Noah in tow, and Jake felt a little overwhelmed. As much as he tried to enjoy it, the experience of being home after so long made the party felt surreal. Add to that was the fact that he couldn’t eat pizza like the rest of the revelers and had to stick to liquefied foods he could drink through a straw.

And Dylan wasn’t there. His absence felt funny.

Reclining on the couch with his friends around him Jake held court. Every couple of minutes Sage would get teary-eyed, and Spencer complained how surfing wasn’t the same without him. It felt like they were all waiting for the other person to open the conversation, and it was very wearing on him.

Finally he looked at Noah. “Tell me about Dylan.”

So he did. This boy, Clarence, who turned out to be Tony, was harassing Dylan’s friends. Jake didn’t know he was a student there simply because Tony was living off-campus with his grandparents and he wanted to float under the radar. As he’d confessed to the police, it was he who saw Jake and Miguel being affectionate on campus and came up with the plan to photograph them kissing and mail the pictures to George as a way to get back at his former friend. The thrill of outing Jake to his parents spurred him into using his anonymity to further intimidate other boys in the gay community. That was the start of his three week crime spree until he was confronted by another student. Dylan, while not a target, was spooked enough by the fallout that when he saw the same kid in Jake’s high school yearbook he panicked and lashed out at him.

Sage looked inquiringly at Jake. “Did you know Tony was Clarence?”

Jake shook his head. “Afterwards,” he said as clearly as he could. “Tony… middle name.”

Jake could see light dawning for all of them.

“But you still didn’t know he took your picture?” Noah asked.

He shrugged sheepishly. Even after discovering the proof of Tony at Long Beach State, it never occurred to Jake that he was the one who sent the photos to his father. That made him feel kind of foolish, but then all Dylan had done that day in his back yard was yell a lot without explaining his accusations.

Being on the other end of the vindictive boy’s shenanigans, he could now better comprehend Dylan’s anger and anxiety. How unnerved he would have been seeing Clarence’s photo in his yearbooks. Why he might have jumped to conclusions and assumed that Jake played a part in the deception rather than being a fellow victim. It didn’t get Dylan off the hook for his blatant overreaction, but it made more sense.

Jake’s ironic misfortune was to be in the same category as those others tormented by his former classmate, but he had certainly suffered more than anyone else. Maybe it was because he was the only one involved whose parents had received photos of their son kissing another man. Tony had targeted him specifically because of George so his brush-up against the resulting bigotry was much more damaging. It wasn’t Dylan’s fault that his father was abusive any more than knowing Tony made it Jake’s.

All of his friends sat around him staring and waiting for him to make a choice. The big question was where did the past three weeks leave them? He missed Dylan, but forgiving him fully would take time—if he chose to. Jake hated grudges and didn’t want to hold one against him. Especially since the rest of the crew desperately wanted them all to be friends again.

The next morning Jake was slowly limping his way out of his bedroom to the living room when Avery offered his shoulder for support and guided him to the couch. It was slow going with sore ribs and casted bones. Pat helped him shift around to prop up his knee and covered him with an afghan.

Jake was trying to be positive and not let himself get overwhelmed by the restraints of his new life, but how was he ever going to get around, especially when he went back to college. Navigating between classes when he could barely walk, taking notes in lecture hall with his writing arm in a cast; it was enough to make him wonder if he should request a medical waiver and put off school for a semester. He didn’t even have a place to live yet.

Pat turned to him once he was finally comfortable. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Dylan, but I wanted to wait until you came home from the hospital.”

Jake smirked and wrote. ‘Are you going to jump on the bandwagon and tell me I should forgive him too?’

Pat laughed. “I suppose so. I was here that first day when we found you with your father. He was so scared for you, Jake. It was heartbreaking, and I could almost read his mind—you were going to die before he could tell you how sorry he was.”

“Marcus and Noah said that,” Jake admitted with half a sigh. Was everyone going to side with Dylan?

He felt ganged up on and wanted to do the right thing but didn’t know what it was anymore. Jake wondered if he was just being oversensitive like his friends seemed to think. ‘U think I forget his actions, pardon him?’ he wrote.

“I think you should let him explain and apologize as a first step.” Wisely, Pat grasped that reconciliation would only take place in stops and starts. She knew Jake and Dylan still loved each other, but neither was willing to own up to it out loud. Friendship first, and the rest would fall into place.

“Three weeks ago he made a huge error in judgment,” she said. “Dylan saw something that made him question your commitment and instead of finding out the truth he flipped out over it. He realizes it isn’t your fault now, and it’s been eating at him ever since trying to fix it. I also think the strife between you places a lot of unfair pressure on your mutual friends. Noah, Marcus… they want to be around both of you, but it feels awkward for them when you two can’t get along.”

Patricia had wrapped the whole situation in a neat, tidy ribbon that sounded like the truth. He disliked feeling pressured into something he wasn’t ready for, but maybe if Dylan made amends. “So what do you intend to do about it?” she finished.

“What should I do?” Jake returned. She gave him a glance that would’ve been mocking except that she was taking his recent hospital emergency into consideration. “I know… talk to him.”

**

After receiving the text message inviting him over, Dylan was there in a flash. He walked into the family room, a thin manila envelope in hand, not surprised to find both Carolyn and Pat there as well. His tried to hide the hungry look on his face, but he had eyes only for Jake.

“You look much better than you did on Wednesday,” Dylan said fervently. “How do you feel?”

Jake shrugged and then winced when it pulled at the torn muscle. “Getting back slowly.”

“Right…” Dylan nodded and clasped his hands together, suddenly embarrassed by everyone staring at him. As if coming to a decision, he stood up a little straighter and approached Jake. “Let me get this out of the way first.”

He took a seat on the rug in front of the couch so his head was level with Jake’s and he could look right in his eyes. “Jake, I was such an ass about the way I acted over Clarence's picture. You have no idea how much I have wanted to kick myself ever since. I know I can never make it up but I was cruel to you, and I am so sorry. Really, really sorry. I treated you like you were hiding information from me when I now understand you didn’t even know what I was talking about. I should have explained myself better without getting angry. You didn’t deserve what I did or said.”

It might have been like a well-rehearsed speech, but as far as apologies went, it rated right up there on the heart-felt scale. In it, Jake could see a little of the kind, thoughtful man he had loved so much and, truthfully, hoped Dylan could be again. Maybe in time, but that would mean giving Dylan a chance to prove he was really sorry. Floundering around in ill-will towards him wasn’t worth it, and Jake found himself a little overwhelmed.

He tried to take several deep breaths to calm down. The problem was, deep breaths were hard with the wires and bands holding his jaws together. Any kind of strong emotion, particularly when he thought he was going to cry, clogged his nose. Jake would find himself struggling against panic attacks triggered by his inability to breath. After forcing himself to relax for half a minute, he was able to respond without choking up. Jake didn’t know it, but the necessity of focusing on his own reactions made him come across as rather cold and austere.

“Thank you.” There was so much more to say but he didn’t know how.

“Can we be friends again?” Dylan asked hopefully.He was a bit puzzled by the inconsistency of Jake’s accepting gaze compared to his severe tone. Wasn’t this what he’d been invited over for?

Friends? Jake sighed, wondering if Dylan still didn’t totally believe in his innocence. He acted like he did, but so much had happened in the past two weeks. Even if they spent days redundantly nitpicking over the argument and their fears, of motives and the wounded feelings from the aftermath, it would not change the fact that Dylan had hurt him acutely and trust had been lost between them.

Dylan’s suspicion had been deep enough to carry him through an entire week of breaking off all communication with Jake. His lack of faith in him made Jake so distressed he sought solace in leaving town. They had broken up, for god’s sake, and both of them would now have to proceed slowly if there was any real change for the better. They needed time if belief in each other was to be rebuilt.

Jake put out his hand. “Friends.”

Dylan took that delicate hand with the rigid fiberglass support crossing it and shook it gently.

His heart was breaking again. Had it come to the point where their relationship had dwindled to handshakes instead of kisses? Give him time, his inner voice warned. This was his own fault for acting so stupid and scared that July morning when he could have just as easily asked a few questions and showed some confidence in his boyfriend instead of getting a wild hair up his ass and imagining all sorts of crazy suspicions. At least Jake was willing to extend the olive branch and renew their friendship, which was damned more than he deserved.

He brought out the folder he carried and looked right at Jake. “If you don’t mind, I would like to propose an idea for our return to Long Beach State. If you could let me have the floor…”

“You do have the floor.” Jake couldn’t help but giggle, seeing as how Dylan was sitting on it. Getting the super-serious milieu of the apology out of the way, allowing them to be in the same room without harsh words and hurt feelings was like a huge weight lifting off his shoulders. If it made him act a little dippy, so what?

Pat raised an eyebrow. “At least someone is taking his pain medication,” she chuckled.

Carolyn gave Jake a severe look tempered with love. “This is important Jake. Stop acting like an idiot.”

Dylan tried to hide a grin, happy to see Jake feeling well enough, secure enough to be silly again, but Carolyn was right.

“With your mother’s approval, I made some telephone calls after you went into the hospital, Jake, with the hopes that you would come out of your coma in time to start college.” Jake shot his mother a look of surprise, and Dylan shuddered, thinking of his baby still unconscious.

“At the time, there weren’t any guarantees you’d be well enough to attend but it couldn’t wait. The fact is, you are going to need help at school—a lot of it, in every possible way. You can’t drive. You can’t walk long distances, and, with your casted arm, writing will also be a challenge. Until you get the wires removed from your jaw, you can’t even talk or eat normally.”

Jake sat there and every reminder of what he could no longer do felt like another nail on the coffin of his sophomore year of school, but he forced himself to keep listening.

Dylan cleared his throat. “After getting some ideas from the university, I went to see the administration of several departments there. Housing for one, Disabled Student Services for another… also nutrition. They gave me a lot of helpful advice which I shared with your mom.”

Another confused glance between mother and son, but so far he was following. It did make sense in a way that plans would have to be carefully constructed around his health for his fall semester attendance, but it didn’t explain why his mom was relying so much on a person she barely knew. Nor why Dylan was turning pale and acting so skittish. Oh, now he was biting his lip, and the look on his face was that of a man going to the gallows.

“Um… Jake, I'm glad you agreed to be my friend again,” Dylan stated, unable to look directly at him. He took a deep breath. “Otherwise, this upcoming semester would have been very awkward. I went ahead, under the suggestion of your mom, to sign us up to share a two-man dorm in Parkside Commons.”

What?

Jake’s head was on a swivel. This was almost too much to absorb. After a fight that led to the two of them breaking up, his mother and aunt had given permission for Dylan to take the lead in planning his sophomore year. Then his recently prejudiced parent was letting his boyfriend, okay, former boyfriend, ex-boyfriend… move in with him into a dorm? Surely it must be the end of the world.

Carolyn jumped in as if on cue. “It makes perfect sense, honey. You can live on-campus which is a lot more convenient than trying to commute from an apartment. There are shuttles and Dylan said he would see to it you got to class. Disabled Services came up with some great ideas for note-taking until your arm is out of a cast and you can write normally…”

“Just as friends,” Dylan hurriedly interjected, blushing. “No strings attached, I promise.”

They had talked about this when they were together, but Dylan wanted Jake to be perfectly clear. This was more of a business arrangement than anything else. As much as he adored Jake and would’ve loved to step right back in to the level of intimacy they had shared, he certainly didn’t merit Jake’s love nor expect it. He knew it would probably never happen— the other boy was now calling the shots, and he probably would prefer to stay friends. The last thing Dylan wanted was to scare him into believing sex would be expected.

Dylan did have an ulterior motive for helping Jake. Some of it was out of a sense of duty. He was partly responsible for the injuries that had been inflicted on the other boy, and that would carry through into taking care of him. Some was to keep him close because he couldn’t bear to lose him even if it was his entire fault. If Jake chose to accept the proposal, Dylan figured the next five months of hiding his desire from him would be excruciating, but it was better than losing him altogether.

Jake could almost see his chilly resolve. He had an inescapable feeling that Dylan had guilted himself into making these arrangements and it was his biggest reason for volunteering to live together. But it was as much as he should’ve anticipated. Forgiveness didn’t equal the ability to rewind three weeks to before they had ever argued or pretend they could go back. If there was even a way back. At this point Jake didn’t know what to think.

He knew Dylan to be an upfront guy, and he had gone to a lot of trouble to set this up. Dorm rooms shouldn’t even be available so close to the start of term, so how did he finagle that? Jake’s belief that he was becoming a burden to all loomed larger than ever.

“I don’t know,” he managed slowly.

Aunt Pat looked at the two of them and wanted to smack both upside the head. Their hearts were in their faces, and if they couldn’t see what was painfully written there, maybe they just needed time for it to be revealed. Nonetheless, love would be rekindled only if they spent it together getting to know each other again.

“Jake, think about it,” she urged. “There is no other option. Dylan just happened to talk to the housing administrator the very same day that a room was released, and you two shot to the top of the list based on your needs. Do you really think you could live in an apartment and get to classes, both of you with different schedules, if you aren’t on-campus?

“And that only takes into account circumstances if you were living with each other outside of the dorms. Do you have any friends from last year you could share an apartment with who would accommodate your current health issues—your lack of mobility, for one? Anyone else willing to drive you to your therapy and doctor appointments and help you with homework? I don’t think so.”

They had it all planned out, and Jake felt bombarded by arrangements made for him in which he had no say-so. No choice either, from what Patricia had hinted. He started to protest, hating that he had to talk around his wires, and realized it was useless. Yes, he and Dylan would share a dorm for the semester, and if it was as impersonal and duty-bound as he suspected, he could always move out in the spring. In the end, all he could do was shrug and let Dylan go on.

Dylan did go on. Disabled Services had a small recording device that Jake would be able to take to his lectures that could be plugged into a computer and provide printable study notes for tests. He had also purchased a sturdy blender to turn any food Jake desired into a puree so he didn’t have to rely on milkshakes, soups and hot cereals for the next couple of weeks. Carolyn had located a neurologist and an orthopedist close to the college to follow up on Dylan’s medical appointments, and rehabilitation was being decided upon between the physiotherapist and the Sports Medicine department at State.

“You have it all figured out for me,” Jake said darkly. He was putting so much imposition on the people he cared about, and he hated it. Dylan would quickly tire of taking care of a near-invalid, and then where would he be? Yet, this was what they had decided, and he had no alternative.

Dylan, misinterpreting Jake’s self-pity for disgust, said, “I’m sorry, but I tried to do the best I could. Let’s get through the semester and see what happens. By then you should be mostly back to normal. At least you’ll be out of the wheelchair and eating solid food again.”

“Okay,” Jake agreed sadly. Life was probably never going to be ‘back to normal’ for him. Nobody else had any real idea how dearly his father’s homophobia and violence had cost him. Possibly being unable to play baseball and thereby losing his scholarship was just the tip of the iceberg. His entire life had been swept away, his dreams, even his heart.

If it weren’t for his father and Tony, he would certainly still have Dylan. But Dylan no longer loved him.

**

On Wednesday they left for the university. Jake, of course, couldn’t drive his truck, so he rode with Dylan, and their gear almost didn’t fit in the SUV. It was also one of the most uncomfortable trips they had ever made together, neither of them able to get past their disquiet and talk about anything other than trivialities.

Except for one subject.

“Where is Erin?” Jake asked in a casual manner. He had been surprised not to find Marcus hanging out with Dylan’s sister at all over the weekend. Before he had entered the hospital they had been very close but in the four days since discharge, his cousin hadn’t even mentioned her name.

Dylan looked very uneasy. “She and Marcus broke up.”

Seeing Jake’s confusion, he went on. “My sister told Kelsey about our fight and all about Tony. Kelsey used the information to track down your father. Erin is in a lot of trouble with my parents, and she had to go downtown to talk to detectives.”

At the sight of Jake’s widening eyes, he added, “No charges will be filed against her because she didn’t have any part in Tony, George or Kelsey’s plans. All she did was pass on information. I’m not making excuses for her. Sometimes, I get so angry at her I’d like to wring her neck. When I think of what might have happened because of her and Kelsey…”

Dylan swallowed hard. “Anyway, not to minimize her involvement, but I doubt she realized what she was doing. She was just, you know, a girl who liked having an older, more popular girl pay attention to her. But when Marcus found out that the information she supplied brought George down here to hurt you, he said he couldn’t forgive her for it.”

The news put Jake into low spirits for the rest of the drive. It all went back to that fight, that damn fight over a ridiculous yearbook picture, and look how many lives were being ruined because of it. Jake liked Erin and it upset him a lot that she had gotten caught up in Kelsey’s web. Not that he really felt sorry for Tony or Kelsey, but if only…

He had been shocked but not surprised when Noah told him how Kelsey was involved. It wasn’t that nobody thought she was capable of that kind of deception; it was the scope of her malevolence in which she believed violence was a feasible solution to her problem- getting rid of Jake- no matter how much it hurt him.

Kelsey was now out on bail, unwilling to accept responsibility for any of her deeds and unable to see that doing a deal with the prosecutors was in her best interests. Regardless, she was going to cost her parents a pretty penny in fines and representation by her attorneys, but they were falling in line with her and bemoaning how their daughter was too young to know any better and was being unfairly persecuted. It was too bad for her cell phone records proved she contacted Tony first and that her long list of grievances showed hatred and bias against Jake from the get-go.

The family had also informed Jake of the legal ramifications facing George and Tony. In fact, Jake had to consent to the proposal by the DA that Tony be allowed to plea-bargain his charges down to a misdemeanor level if he would agree to plead guilty. As for George—well, even though it was still early in the legal process, the case against him was as close to airtight as you could get. As long as nobody fucked it up on technicalities, it looked like he was going away to prison for the rest of his life where he would be somewhat of a marked man for beating up on his gay teenage son.

Once the boys arrived at their dorm they discovered they had been assigned a second-floor room, and Parkside’s resident advisor sent them over to housing department to hash it out. Dylan didn’t care if there was an elevator, on busy mornings when the place emptied out and students were hustling to class, no one would be willing to accommodate Jake’s wheelchair. Once Dylan threatened to get the admin involved, they were easily switched, but his new roommate couldn’t help but be impressed with his tenacity for his sake.

Dylan helped Jake with the rest of his entrance paperwork. They picked up their class schedules for the semester and went to see their counselors about exchanging course times. He would be in water polo practice most afternoons, so Dylan came up with the smart idea of leaving a three-hour block of time open on Friday mornings, the day many of the teachers did not schedule class, for rehab and doctor appointments. Jake sighed dejectedly. So many complications.

Dylan helped Jake get his textbooks squared away, checked on the list of welcome back orientation and activities meetings to choose from, and then they went to Parkside to see to their new residence.

The dorm was an eleven by sixteen room with two single beds in it, dressers and a small study area. It had a large closet but not much in the way of storage space or living area. Jake brought his bigger, better-quality microwave; Dylan had a compact fridge large enough for sodas and snacks. The bathroom was shared with two boys from the room next door. Across the way were two friends of Dylan’s, Nick and his boyfriend, Zander. Jake was introduced, and they seemed like a friendly couple.

Zander and Nick helped them unload the SUV and they got moved in. Or rather Dylan moved them—Jake tired easily and was unable to do much beyond supervise. Dylan insisted on first unpacking for Jake who could only sit and give him instructions on where to put his belongings. He kept rolling is chair out of the way, and not once did Dylan complain. Jake felt bad when he was completely settled and Dylan hadn’t lifted a finger to fix up his own space yet. He just smiled and said it could wait, seeming to enjoy waiting on him. Jake let it go without grumbling… much.

Clean sheets on the beds, it was almost ten before they finished, almost too tired to move. Jake was ready to nod off. “Will you need help undressing?” came softly in his ear. He jerked awake.

Dylan colored slightly. “Sorry, Jake, I didn’t realize you were almost asleep.” He indicated his bed. “Can you take care of yourself or do you need my help?”

Jake shook his head, annoyed once again at his disability. “Thanks, I’m fine.” To prove it, he lifted up from his wheelchair and limped to his dresser and newly folded clothing, looking for clean briefs and a t-shirt. He headed off for the bathroom.

Dylan sighed sadly. Jake had been formal with him all day. He rarely smiled and only spoke when addressed, but his jaw was probably sore from the wires that had changed his life so much. Dylan had reminded him to take his pain meds, but Jake shook his head and said he was trying to wean himself from them in time for the start of class the following week. He would not be able to concentrate if he was drugged up, and what was the purpose of returning to school if he flunked out?

Dylan had wanted this time together to be so much better than it was proving to be. But he brought this on himself. Damn his stupid mouth! Damn that seizure of inexplicable temper and suspicion that came out of nowhere! Even though it was his own fault, his heart still ached for the what-if’s. The loss of them weighed on him as he considered what he’d given up… probably forever.

Had there been no fight over Tony, and no homophobic father charging down from Madera, they would’ve shared an apartment off-campus. Dylan had enough money in his bank account that he could’ve splurged on a good-sized bed the two of them to sleep and make love in every night. Even now the memories of the few times they shared their bodies with each other made Dylan’s cock twitch, and he had force himself to calm down so his hard-on didn’t alarm Jake.

When the sophomore came back to their room, Dylan quickly excused himself to take care of his nightly business, returning to find Jake already in bed, staring at the ceiling. Dylan switched off the light and climbed in under his covers across the room and turned on his side to face him.

“Can we please talk?”

Jake could plainly hear Dylan’s unhappiness in his voice and knew it was his fault. He knew he had been tense and moody all day, not outwardly complaining about delays or complications but showing displeasure all the same. He hated being babysat by Dylan and judging himself as the nuisance he knew he was. So maybe Dylan was right and they needed a conversation to clear the air.

He grunted consent, and Dylan went on plaintively. “You probably hate this arrangement. I wish I could do something to make you more comfortable. Just put up with me until the end of the semester, and then you can move out if you like.”

“It’s not that,” Jake said, realizing he was acting ungrateful. “I’m tired, Dylan. Better tomorrow.”

Dylan thought for a few minutes. “I worry because we’re barely friends anymore, and with days like today when you act so distant…” He couldn’t go on.

“It isn’t my fault,” Jake rasped out, offended because it sounded like Dylan was blaming him.

“No, it’s not,” Dylan agreed softly. “It’s mine.”

He wondered if the taboo subject of the fight was behind Jake’s behavior. Even after all this time they had never really discussed it other than his apology the week before at the Walkers’. At the time they had more important details to discuss about going back to college.

“I’m sure Noah and Spencer probably told you about last year and what happened with all my friends and those pictures, but I wanted you to hear it from me.” He talked about the problems Tony had caused, being present when the couple was publicly exposed by his photography and his confrontation with the kid from Madera. “I was angry and worried when I saw him with you in that picture. I knew almost right away I had made a mistake but when I should have come to you to apologize I just kept attacking you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jake mumbled tiredly, making an effort to talk clearly through the hardware in his mouth. “So long ago, no going back.”

He wished they could. He wanted to stop seeing visions of Dylan’s angry face every time he tried to remember the intimacy they shared. Instead of feeling kisses against his lips, his senses filled up with vengeful, angry words. How were they going to share a dorm room for at least the next five months with this heavy weight hanging over their heads?

Dylan lay in bed a long time until he finally heard soft rhythm of Jake’s breathing that indicated he was asleep. For some inexplicable reason he was hard as a rock. Maybe because it had been a week since he got off, and he pushed his boxers down to the middle of his thighs and reached for his cock. Sliding his fingers through the slippery precum and beginning to jack himself with a practiced hand, he allowed his mind to drift to that morning in the mountains when he woke Jake up with a blowjob.

The way Jake was already semi-erect from his dreams but how quickly he had become aroused after just a few strokes of Dylan’s fingers. The warm satin skin expanding as his dick filled and lengthened and the slightly sweaty-salt flavor of it when Dylan took him in his mouth. The perfection of the spongy cock head against his tongue. Drawing drops of sweet precum from the slit like nectar, and the way Jake’s hips began to subconsciously rock in his sleep. He knew the exact minute Jake awoke because he heard his cries of surprise and rapture. His boy had cum almost immediately.

With the sweet reminiscence spurring him on, Dylan felt his own strong orgasm grab hold tightly. His body jerked again and again, shooting strings of semen onto his bare chest as he tried to muffle his moans. Minutes later he used his t-shirt to clean himself off, rolled over and went to sleep.

**

Monday was the first day of class, and it established a routine that the boys would use until Jake was more self-sufficient. Dylan arose first to shower and dress. Before leaving for the dining hall to get them breakfast, he woke Jake up and waited around until he was positive he wouldn’t fall back to snoozing. He didn’t begrudge not being able to sleep in, but with Jake, this took some getting used to. He missed the independence he no longer had at his disposal.

Returning with their meals to find his roommate in the shower, he put Jake’s food through the blender. It looked nasty, but for the boy who couldn’t chew and was thoroughly repulsed by the idea of anything liquid at this point, it was heaven. Eggs and bacon or sausage with hashbrowns, even toast mixed with a little milk to make a semi-soft concoction that could be sipped through a large straw. It beat out watery hot cereal any day of the week. Jake had been nearly starving by the time Dylan thought of it.

Off to class for Jake, who had the misfortune to begin his week with a lecture in Advanced Chemistry at 8:30. Dylan would drive him to the science building and pushed him up the slope from the parking lot before setting him loose to wheel to class on his own. An hour and half later they would reverse the process and dash back to the dorm where Jake turned the electronic lecture notes into written pages he could put in a binder and study for tests.

Dylan’s first class, Kinematics, didn’t begin until 10:30, a half-hour after Jake’s ended, so it worked out perfectly for both of them. They had just enough time following for lunch, and then Jake spent ninety minutes in English while Dylan did the same in Fluid Mechanics.

The rest of their week was much the same with additional lessons in their chosen courses of study. Jake was taking two of the same classes Dylan had studied the previous year, and one- a Physics electricity and magnetism course was with the same professor. Dylan pointed out important points he should study for the exams and helped him with organizing his class work whenever possible.

They relaxed into their schedules through the first weeks and began rebuilding their friendship. It wasn’t easy at first. Jake was always looking for places where he thought Dylan was overextending himself out altruistic guilt. Dylan didn’t for one second believe that Jake could ever completely forgive him for what he’d done. If they both hadn’t been so worried about stepping on each other’s toes and bringing up ghosts of intimacy past, they might have sat down to a deep conversation to clear the air. But they were of the mind of an ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ mentality and let it lie.

For Dylan, it was an unnerving experience in the early days to return to Long Beach State. It was the scene of the crime, so to speak, as far as the Clarence situation went and every once in awhile Jake saw an odd expression pass over his face, followed by a shudder. Mostly outside a classroom or the common buildings or on a particular sidewalk; a memory might pop up suddenly. Dylan would talk about how he came across certain friends in the midst of panic attacks or, standing next to a bulletin board, specific photos that made an impact. It brought home to Jake exactly how much trouble the photography caused as well as made him wonder why he didn’t know about it at the time. He certainly had no qualms about his first year at the school, and being back on campus and openly gay was not a source of anxiety for him.

Dylan had water polo practice nearly every afternoon. Early in the term when he was still tethered to the wheelchair, if Jake didn’t have class, he had to promise to stay in their dorm room because Dylan fussed over him like his mother, worrying that he couldn’t manage on his own. Or Jake went to the library to study or sat in the dining hall with his friends. They had both met each other’s from the previous year, and Jake found himself part of a growing group of gay students around the college.

Weekends were filled with water polo meets and tournaments. On the first Friday afternoon in September, Adam dropped by the college to pick him up and take him to UC-Irvine where Dylan’s team played against the water polo squads of two other universities. Noah and Marcus attended school there, and they had a fun but short reunion. Jake finally got to see Dylan in a Speedo, actually a lot of hot players in Speedos, and it was hard to prevent the tenting in his shorts. Fortunately he sweet-talked his dick into behaving while he and his best friends cheered for Long Beach against Redlands and Chapman U. He bunked at Adam’s apartment, and while Jake loved his brothers, sleeping on their couches every weekend while Dylan was gone with his team left a lot to be desired.

“Jake Nielsen!”

He and Dylan were sitting on the outside patio of the dining hall on a beautiful September afternoon when he heard his named being called. Looking up he saw a handsome Hispanic man a couple inches shorter than himself with a lithe build, shaggy black hair, dark, kohl-rimmed eyes and a huge grin on his bronze face striding towards him. It was Jake’s ex-boyfriend, Miguel.

Locking the wheels on his chair, Jake struggled to stand up as the dancer stopped right in front of him and stared at him up and down anxiously. “Stay put, beautiful,” Miguel gasped in concern. “I’d ask how your summer went, but judging by the looks of you, I’d say not good. What happened?”

Jake shrugged with an abashed smile. “Painful encounter with my dad,” he joked, reaching for Miguel and clasping him in a tight hug. “Good to see you.”

Dylan stood on the other side of the table and watched the exchange as Jake in pantomimes and short sentences explained the pictures and how they tipped off his father. Even though the black-haired boy seemed to know about George, the more Jake spoke the angrier he became, and he reacted with horror once he learned that he was responsible for the broken bones and other injuries.

Miguel threw Jake a provocative glance. “You still look beautiful, beautiful.” He kissed him on the cheek.

Dylan cleared his throat noisily and received a guilty smile from his blushing friend who made quick introductions. “Miguel, this is my roommate, Dylan.” That earned the blonde a deep, scrutinizing stare and a frown, but Miguel held out his fist and to be polite Dylan brushed knuckles with him.

Much to Dylan’s dismay, Miguel pulled up a seat and sat down, draping his arm over Jake’s shoulders. “So when are you going to have all this stuff off you?” He flicked the cast on Jake’s arm in fun and rolled his eyes flirtatiously. “We should go out once you can walk and all.”

“Hmm, well I don’t…” Jake hedged, feeling dismay begin to gnaw at his stomach.

Miguel didn’t seem to perceive either Jake’s lack of enthusiasm or Dylan’s complete silence and went on in quiet sincerity as if they were the only people on the patio. He leaned closer, nuzzling his nose in Jake’s curls as he whispered into his ear. “We never should have broken up last spring, you know.” He took Jake’s casted hand in his, stroking his fingers.

“Miguel, I’m not…”

Jake squirmed as if sitting on pins and needles. He tried to withdraw his hand unobtrusively, not wanting to hurt Miguel’s feelings. Or Dylan’s either, for that matter. From his vantage point, Jake could see him off to the side. The junior was glaring down at his lap, his mouth set in an angry line and battling not to give in to his desire to mouth off and tell Miguel to leave Jake alone. It suddenly occurred to him that Dylan’s irritation might be masking jealousy, then dismissed it right away.

Purposely moving on to trivialities to stop Miguel’s embarrassing invitations, Jake began collecting his trash right after he and Dylan finished their food. “We need to run,” he told Miguel, preparing to beat a hasty retreat. Dylan hadn’t said more than two words to them the whole time, and Jake felt bad for him. He knew he’d been rude.

As Dylan maneuvered the wheelchair over some uneven cement on their way back to the dorm he asked, “Did you want to go out with him?”

Jake, who had stopped thinking of Miguel as soon as they left the dining patio, jerked his head up. “With who?”

His answer cheered Dylan somewhat. If Jake couldn’t even remember speaking to Miguel five minutes after leaving his side, there really wasn’t anything to worry over. “Nobody,” he said with a smile. “Nobody.”

A few weeks later Dylan accompanied Jake back to the southern Orange County courthouse for a preliminary hearing against Kelsey. Yes, the dumb girl actually thought she had a chance at getting off without a trial, and both Jake and Dylan had to bring evidence against her. There was no jury, simply testifying before the judge but for the uninitiated it was taxing. Both boys could think of a hundred other things they’d rather be doing.

Dylan didn’t notice how he subconsciously moved closer to Jake, as if protecting him, when Kelsey appeared in the hall outside the courtroom flanked by her parents and attorney, and he turned his back on her before she could say anything. Jake’s appearance in court in a wheelchair, hampered by broken arms and his jaw wired shut did not look good for her, and the die was cast when Dylan firmly but assuredly explained her confession to him on that long-ago Saturday morning. The gavel came down, Kelsey was ordered over for trial and she burst into angry tears at the injustice. They didn’t even begin to compare to the rage Dylan directed back at her when she caught his eye.

She tried to talk to him as she left the courtroom. “Hey, Dylan.”

Jake had not been allowed to hear his testimony, and now Dylan was looking for him. He whirled on her. “Don’t, Kelsey,” he warned her, barely holding on to his temper. “You and I have nothing left to say to each other.”

Her face clouded up. “I wanted to apologize for making you mad…”

“Save it,” he snarled. “I don’t want to listen to your over-possessive lame-ass excuses and your immaturity.

“You are unbelievable!” he went on. “One stupid high school dance between us and you treat it like we’re engaged or something. Pushing and pushing me right into a corner. You knew I was gay, but you refused to believe it. Did you see Jake? Do you see how he has to live? That’s what his father did to him because of you. He actually looks good compared to last month when he was in the hospital… covered black and blue in bruises… we weren’t even sure he would ever wake up again. You did that to him, Kelsey. You did, and I will never forgive you for it.”

“But Dylan…” He stared at her and put a hand up to halt her whining, unable to process how a supposedly decent human being of reasonable intelligence could not only help plan something so heinous but completely talk herself out of its accountability. Giving her a withering look, he turned on his heel and marched away to find Jake.

By the end of September Jake was as healed as much as the short-term was going to give him. There was no sign that his coma had caused any permanent damage. His casts were removed from both his arms and he was no longer had to use the wheelchair to get around, although he still walked with a limp that was very noticeable when he was overtired.

Best of all, the wires holding his fractured jaw together were gone. One of the happiest days in Jake’s recent memory had to be the day he visited his oral surgeon for the final time to have the arch support and last of the rubber bands removed. For a while chewing was painful, but he relished the privilege of biting into solid food and savoring it slowly, enjoying the firm feeling on his palate and tongue. And talking! No more mumbling or using pads of paper to express himself. It felt like he’d been reborn.

Maybe it was his courthouse confrontation with Kelsey or Jake not having to lean on medical equipment anymore, but Dylan began to unwind a bit as the two passed into their second month of school. He still insisted on taking him to class at times, but it was just as easy for Jake to catch a shuttle to and from the lecture halls and the dorm. In his mind this was almost like having his Dylan back, someone who would do anything for him but would also step back to give him the liberty he needed. He was unselfish in the extreme, and Jake took special care not to abuse his offered time and assistance.

In him he glimpsed the man whom he vaguely remembered haunting the medical halls while he was in his coma, the man who had valiantly not complained as he dismissed him from his room. It felt like forever since they could do more than prowl around like wounded shadows now that they had worked out the tangles from their fight. But Jake wanted to be so much more than friends.

The boys had been back at the university for over seven weeks, and they decided to spend a few days at home in Aleppo Park. Following a water polo match in San Diego that Friday afternoon the team had made an immediate trip back to the university, so it was a bye weekend for Dylan. After so long away, they were eager to visit family and Jake needed to swap out for different clothing now that autumn was upon them and he didn’t have to try to force his casted arms through sleeves. Even so, it was a pleasant day outside, not so hot to run the air conditioning but warm enough to make the SUV stuffy with the windows rolled up. They were enjoying the wind in their hair and singing to tunes on the stereo system.

“You know,” Dylan called over the noise, “now that you’re all healed up, there’s nothing stopping you from getting your truck and taking it back up to school with you. As long as you have the insurance and registration info current, if you buy a parking sticker you won’t have to rely on me for transportation.”

“I suppose so,” Jake answered reluctantly. Truth be told, he enjoyed riding around with Dylan. He wondered if he was getting tired of playing chauffeur, not that they had much off-campus travel anymore. With the casts and wires removed, Jake’s visits with his doctors were few and far between. On second thought, maybe Jake was being selfish.

Dylan watched him get quiet out of the corner of his eye and suddenly felt stupid. Maybe Jake couldn’t afford to register his truck up at State. On-campus parking was rather pricey and he was a scholarship student.

“I mean, I don’t mind you riding with me,” Dylan said quickly. “I just thought if you wanted your own vehicle it would be handier to take it back with you.”

Jake nodded, unsure what prompted Dylan to reverse himself. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

They arrived in town an hour later and Dylan dropped Jake off. Aunt Pat made a big deal out of his arrival, and not only was he thrilled to have a couple days home, especially with his aunt’s cooking, Jake was also glad for a place to do laundry that he didn’t have to pay for. Still, it felt weird to not be together nearly 24/7. Dylan didn’t call him all of Saturday, and by that night, Jake was kicking around the house in a forlorn mood.

“What’s wrong, Jake?” Patricia asked him as she carried an armload of his laundry into the family room. He jumped up to take it from her.

“Nothing,” he muttered. How did he explain that he missed Dylan? Did he miss Dylan?

“Oh, it’s something alright,” she chattered with a smile on her face. “Come on, Jacobaby, you can tell your old aunt what’s on your mind. That’s what I’m here for.”

He picked at a piece of lint that had dropped from his clean clothing and played with it for a minute. “I don’t know what to do about Dylan. Half the time I don’t even know if we’re really friends. I mean, for the long-term like he is with Noah and Marcus.” He told her all about recent events at college, his suggestion that he take his truck back to Long Beach and being ignored all day.

“And where are your hands?” she asked when he finished.

“Pardon?”

“Your hands. I assume you have hands too. Instead of waiting for him to, why don’t you call him?”

Jake looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, and she considered him carefully. “Has it ever occurred to you that he might be at his house right now thinking the same thing about you? Except that Dylan has more to lose. He’s the one who hurt you, and he may be judging the strength of your friendship by how willing you are to spend time with him. If you don’t call, he won’t; he’ll assume you don’t want to be buddies, and eventually that will be the end of it.”

Jake stared at his aunt, horrified. Never see Dylan again?

“You two are such children,” she scolded. “While I understand what he did was terrible, at some point you need to let bygones be bygones and forget it. Otherwise, your fight is going to rear its ugly head and keep coming between you. If you want his friendship, then treat him the way you want to be treated. Stop playing games.”

Jake texted Dylan immediately, and a few minutes later received a call from him. In the background he could hear the throb of a bass beat and the sort of loud laughter and garbled conversation you find in a room full of people.

“It’s my father’s forty-fifth birthday,” Dylan told him, shouting over the ruckus, “and my mother threw him a big surprise party. Sorry I didn’t call, but it’s been crazy here.”

“No, that’s alright,” Jake answered, relieved to have a solid reason behind being ditched besides his supposed disregard. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Which was the truth because the next day when Jake went out to start his truck, the engine wouldn’t turn over. Jake didn’t have time to see about a new battery and he ended up riding back to school with Dylan anyway. It was like fate had spoken.

(To be continued...)