A Summer Love - 6. Chapter 6

August 25, 1991

I got up and walked into the front room and grabbed a piece of pizza from last night. It was lukewarm, and nasty, but I was hungry and too lazy to find anything else to eat. The phone was ringing but I didn't care. I went to the bathroom, and then went back to bed. Sleep. Oblivion.

I woke up later and it was dark. I got up and got another piece of pizza and went back to bed, but I couldn't sleep. Fuck. All I could think of was how alone I was. So alone, just sitting here in this gilded cage. The phone rang again but I ignored it. I didn't want to talk to anyone, I just wanted to sleep. I rummaged through the medicine cabinet and found some sleeping pills I'd gotten to help me handle jet lag. It said to take one, but I took two. The tears were running down my face again when I felt sleep coming, the drowsiness, and I once again slipped into my nocturnal coma.

August 26, 1991

Something was bringing me out of my sleep, and it was pissing me off. I tried to ignore it, but a hand slapped my face pretty hard, hard enough to hurt. “Leave me alone,” I heard myself say in French. I paused for a moment to find it odd that I was thinking in English and speaking in French, but then was recalled by this annoying person who had somehow broken into my apartment and insisted on bugging the shit out of me. The slapping ended and I smiled to myself, happy to be rid of the fucker who was bugging me.

It was to be short lived. I felt the shock of something cold on my face. Water, someone had thrown water on my face, and it was in my nose. I coughed and choked, and woke up really, really pissed. I remember jumping up, ready to beat the shit out of someone, only to collapse back onto the bed in my groggy state.

I slowly came back to the real world and looked up to see Stefan staring into my face. He looked worried, almost near panic, holding the phone in one hand while he stared at me. The anger flew out the window. I could never stay mad at him. “Hi,” I croaked.

“Hi? Hi? You scare me to death and that is all you can say? Hi?” He was absolutely livid now, really pissed. “How many of these did you take?” He demanded, shaking the sleeping pills at me.

“Two,” I said.

“It says to take one,” he pointed out unnecessarily.

“You are lecturing me about not following the rules?” I asked him, getting irritated all over again, and now fully coming out of my fog.

“I was worried about you. You did not answer the phone, then you would not answer the door, and then you would not wake up.” He was still pissed, but at least he was calming down.

“I did not want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to sleep. It does not hurt when I sleep.” I said to him, remembering why I was sad, and remembering that I was sad. I felt a tear fall down my cheek. Then his arms were around me and I just collapsed into him, allowing myself to collapse completely, to totally break down. “He could have been nicer Stef. He did not have to just dump me like that.”

“I know. He is an emotional neophyte,” Stef agreed angrily.

“He left me in the airport. In the fucking airport. He told me if I came to visit he would not even let me in his house.” Getting it out, venting, didn't seem to be helping. It just made me sadder, and beneath the sadness, it made me really angry.

“It is inexcusable, unforgivable. There will come a time when he will have to come to you on his knees and apologize, and hope that you are a better man than he is.” His anger was a tonic for me. It took me a while to figure out why. Suddenly I wasn't alone. Stef was here with me, mad with me, ready to stick up for me, to be in my corner.

“Thanks Stef. I just do not know what I did to deserve this. I mean, I loved him, I made him happy, or at least he seemed to be. He said he loved me. If he did, he could never have done this to me.”

“Marcel, I do not know what to say, I really do not. But I do know one thing.”

“What?” I asked.

“You stink. You need a shower.”

I looked at him and laughed, something I thought I would never do again. “Want to join me?” I teased.

“You just got screwed over by one older man and you want to try again with another one?” He was so cute when he flirted. “You are too tempting. Go take your shower before I give in to my carnal desires.”

I laughed again, and headed to the shower. The warm water felt so great, so refreshing, that I must have spent half an hour just letting it pour over my body. I finally came out, a towel around my waist, with the realization that I was really hungry. I walked out of the bathroom and began getting dressed when I heard Stefan's voice from the other room. I snuck over to the door to eavesdrop.

“So you avoid my phone calls? You are worried that I will tell you what a total asshole you are? Coward!” He paused to listen. “Do not tell me that bullshit, that you thought ending things quickly would make it easier for him. You made it easier for you, and you did it at his expense.” Another pause. “Do not lecture me! I remember how you used to give me crap for my lack of social skills, for my lack of grace and sympathy for others less fortunate. Well, you should practice some compassion of your own. Who told you that being an ice king, living in an environment devoid of emotion and caring, was healthy? You are holding yourself up as a model? You?” Stefan listened for a long time this time, letting JP explain himself. “You are such a fool. I cannot believe you. If you were honest with yourself, just once, for one fucking time if you would actually try to figure out how you feel, you would realize that this is probably unhealthier for you than it is for him.” A small hesitation, and then he jumped in again, clearly interrupting. “You have been in all kinds of relationships before. Why could you not have just told him that you would be friends that love each other? You could do that with me but not with him? Why?” There was a long pause, while JP obviously rambled on. “I do not hate you, I am angry with you. And I am disappointed in you. It is really irritating to see someone so smart act like such a dumbass.” Then he hung up.

I went back into my room and dressed quickly so he wouldn't know I was eavesdropping. Somehow, just having Stefan in my corner, fighting for me, made me feel so much better. But he said that this was harder on JP than me? I felt my love for JP surge again; wanting instinctively to end his hurt even though he caused me so much pain.

“Well, where shall we eat?” I asked Stef in a relatively cheerful tone as I came out. He stared at me, surprised, and then went with it. I took him to Giordano's, for some famous Chicago stuffed pizza. It was pretty funny, because pizza wasn't exactly the typical fare for him. He was more of a gourmet. Still, he bucked it up and gave it a try.

“This is wonderful!” He took another bite. “I never tasted pizza this good.”

“Thank you for coming out to keep my company,” I said, looking into his eyes so he could see how sincere I was.

“I would have been here two days ago if I would have known what happened. I'm so sorry he treated you badly. It really was inexcusable.”

“Well, in his mind we had a deal,” I said feebly, actually sticking up for him.

“He is an idiot. He does not know how to handle this. He is styling this as a merciful act to help you out, but he is being much more selfish than that.”

I stared at him, surprised. “I do not understand, Stef.”

He smiled and patted my hand. “He is emotionally handicapped. He does not know how to let you go, he knows in his heart you two cannot be a couple, so he has decided you must be separated. In reality, he is not treating you badly because he does not like you; he is treating you badly because he does not think he can otherwise let you go.” I grinned. He loved me. This was all bullshit. He knew it, Stef knew it, and now I knew it.

“So does this mean he will come sweep me off my feet and whisk me off to California to live happily ever after?” I teased.

“Do not get your hopes up,” Stef said, worried. “Besides, you have an obligation, a job here. You would devastate him if you blew that.” He swallowed another bite of pizza.

“I do not want to marry him; I just did not understand why it had to be so final, why we could not still have some semblance of a relationship. You know, we could be friends, and I could fuck him once in a while.”

That made Stef giggle. “He is so good at that. Almost as good as me.”

“Here, let's get more wine,” I teased. “You need to get really drunk so I can take advantage of you.”

“You worry me. You will catch me at a weak moment and convince me to do something we will both regret.” He was sincere, and I felt guilty. But humor was still the best way to play it off.

“You are right, except we would not regret it,” I teased, leering at him so obviously he could do nothing but laugh.

“There was another thing that is bothering him,” he said. “He will not admit it though.”

“What?” Stef seemed nervous, uncomfortable.

“The revolution, the coup in Russia shattered his composure more than he let on. You should remember that the last time he was in a situation like this, in the middle of a revolution; it was in Paris in 1968. He was there with your father; that was when Jeff tried to trap him, isolate him, and then ultimately deserted him. It is not fair to you, and he will not admit it, but you remind him so much of your father, it must have sparked some very unpleasant memories.” Stef paused, thinking. “He probably spent time gazing off into the distance, thinking. That's what he does when he's really disturbed.”

“He did,” I responded automatically. “During the coup, he spent most of his time just looking out the window. How ironic that this thing he so traumatically remembered was the event that ultimately led to my birth.”

“I think if that would have dawned on him it might have freaked him out even more,” Stef said, laughing. “I have to run an errand while I am here.” I looked at my watch; it was only 2 in the afternoon.

“Is it something you need to do alone?”

“No, you can come with me if you want to.” He seemed a little uptight.

“What do you have to do?” It wasn't like him to get tense like this.

“I promised Greg that I would check up on a friend of his. Well, actually, he's the son of the lady that works for him. Max is his name.”

I scanned my memory. “Brad's friend Max?”

“Well, I think they are friends now,” Stef said, grinning. “There was a time when it was more. I do not think Brad has much to do with him anymore.”

“Why do you have to check up on him?”

“He has just gotten a position at Northwestern. He's a Physics Professor. His parents are not sure that he's in a good situation.” There was something he wasn't telling me.

“Well, let's go find out.”

We hopped in the Mercedes and flew down the Drive. It was hard to be in this car and not think of JP. If he and I couldn't come to some sort of detente in our friendship, I'd need to trade it in. I'd have to get rid of all those reminders so I could put him out of my mind, and that made me really sad. Max lived in Boystown, near Wrigleyville. It was an area that was dominated by the gay community.

We pulled up to a pretty nice building, headed inside the foyer, up to the door and rang the bell. No one answered, but that didn't stop Stefan. He rang the bell again, and this time a blond surfer-type guy answered. He was pretty cute, about six feet tall, blue eyes, and a roundish face. He smiled at us, a fake smile, showing us teeth with a gap between the two front teeth. I recognized him as one of the guys who surfed with Brad. “Hey Stef,” he said. “Good to see you!”

“I did not know you were here Lark,” Stef said, lying. “What a pleasant surprise. You remember Marcel?” We nodded at each other and shook hands in a guy way.

Lark seemed to remember that we were still standing on the porch. “Come on in.”

It was a nice enough apartment, with typical college student furniture. I would have expected a little better from Max, being a Prof now. I guess living in Chicago was pretty expensive.

Then he was there in the room, a blond god. I blinked at him, and then got worried that I looked like a complete idiot. Fortunately he hadn't even noticed me at all, he was focused on Stef. “Hi Stef. Good to see you.” He gave Stef a big hug. “My parents send you here to check up on me?”

“You think I am at their beck and call?” Stef asked, feigning offense. I smiled. That's exactly what happened. “This is Marcel,” he said, introducing me.

“Hey,” I said, shaking his hand. His eyes locked on mine and there was an energy flow between us that was intense. This guy was about 6'1 with a really fit body. I was guessing at his height since he seemed to be just an inch taller than me. He didn't look like any professor I'd ever seen. His students were going to be going nuts over this Adonis. I couldn't pull myself away from his pale blue eyes. They were a light shade that went perfectly with his blond hair. He had a deep tan, of course, since it was August.

“Hey,” he said shyly. I grinned at him, knowing he was more nervous than me, his introversion coming out. He got embarrassed and looked away, letting me check out his body some more. Damn. He turned around and flashed me a peek at his cute little ass. I loved tall guys with little asses, and this guy was the personification of that.

“So you teach at Northwestern?” I asked, trying to strike up a conversation and forcing him to turn around and pay attention to me.

“Yeah, classes start next month,” he said, returning to his place in front of me.

“I know, I start then as well. I'm working on my Master's degree.”

“You're not in any of my classes are you?” he asked.

“I wish. I'd spend the whole semester trying to sleep with the teacher,” I flirted, and saw him blush again. I noticed Lark turn red as well, not from embarrassment, but because he was pissed off.

“Well, we were going to head out and do some stuff. You guys wanna meet for dinner or something?” Lark asked, almost rudely.

“I am leaving later on this evening, so that will not work,” Stef said. The phony politeness between the two of them was starting to fade. “I will stop by and see you next time I'm in Chicago, Max.”

“That would be great Stef,” Max said. He seemed like such a nice guy. “It was nice to meet you Marcel. Maybe I'll see you on campus.”

“Maybe. Nice to meet you too.” We shook hands and left. “What the fuck was that all about?” I asked Stef.

“Max's parents were worried that Lark was here.”

“What's wrong with that? They seem like a cute couple.” I did not see the problem. They looked like they were together.

“Lark is bisexual, but a closet case even at that. When things do not work out, he lands on Max's doorstep and mooches off of him. He's like a leech, sucks everything out of him. Money, emotional stability, happiness, and when he finally leaves, he will leave Max as a hollow shell. It's really very sad, because Max is a terrific guy.”

I tried not to look at him. “Why does Max let him do that to him?”

“Why do you let Lou do that to you?” he shot back, hitting way too close to home. I ignored him, because I didn't want to talk about Lou, and because he was right.

“Are you really leaving today?” I asked him sadly.

“I am sorry, I have to go back. I know it is a short visit, too short, but I promise I will come back soon.”

I reached over and held his hand. “It's OK Stef. I know you're busy. I just appreciate you coming out here so much. You helped me pull my head out of my ass. I think I might at least be able to function at school now.”

He smiled and gripped my hand back. “I love you Marcel. I know this is a tough time for you, and I will be here if you need me. You must promise me, though, that you will answer your phone when I call.”

“I'm sorry about that, and for worrying you.” I felt guilty now.

“Well, if you would not have worried me, I would not be here now, and I have so enjoyed myself. But now you must take me to the airport, if that is not too much trouble.” He gave me his sexy grin.

“It is out of my way, a real pain in the ass,” I said, pretending to whine. I dropped him off and headed back up to my condo. It was lonely, but a little less sad. I cleaned up the place, picking up my pizza boxes and unpacking, getting myself organized. Then I went grocery shopping and stocked up on victuals, feeling pretty good about finally settling into my condo.

I looked at the clock. 7pm. It was still early, and I was full of energy. I guess all of that sleeping had recharged me, so I headed out to K-Mart to do some household shopping, to pick up some of that stuff that I needed but didn't buy at the grocery store. I was learning about one of the disadvantages of the Mercedes: It was small. I had the little trunk packed full of shit, along with the passenger seat, and the little ledge behind the seats as well. I got back to the condo and grabbed as much as I could and lugged it upstairs. I set it down in the hallway and went back down to get the rest, and only after I got back up the second time did I notice something different.

There, in the middle of the dining room table, were a dozen red roses. I smiled, almost giggled, and rushed over to grab the card. The concierge must have let the florist in. What a nice guy! I'd have to tip him really well. I grabbed the card and opened it.

Marcel,

I treated you so poorly, and handled this whole situation between us so badly; I'm almost too embarrassed to say I'm sorry. You light up my life, you make me happy, and even if we can't be a couple, it is vital to me, absolutely vital, that we are friends. I have to have you in my life.

Love,

JP.

I held the note and stared at it, then leaned in to smell the flowers. He still loved me! I was crying and smiling at the same time, I simply could not control my emotions.

“So will you forgive me?” I heard JP say, and turned around to find him standing there in the doorway to my bedroom, smiling at me nervously.

I was going to say something witty, something stupid, but I couldn't do it. I ran over to him and picked him up, hugging him, and dragging him into the bedroom. I threw him on the bed and jumped on top of him, almost crushing him, my mouth on his, my tongue probing into his mouth demanding entry, which he granted willingly. He shaped his body to mine, responding to my moves with a fluidity that you could only get with someone you were totally in sync with. “I love you,” I cooed in his ear.

“I love you too,” he said.

We shed our clothes like a snake molts its skin, sliding against each other and out of our shorts, our shirts, and our boxers. Then I rolled him over and grabbed the lube. I desperately needed to couple with him, and I sensed the same thing from him, so foreplay was not a priority. I pushed into him, feeling him tense at first, then yield to me and welcome me inside.

“I missed you so much,” I cooed into his ear. “I have been so miserable without you. Now that you are here, I feel so happy, so good.” He moaned now, unable to respond to me coherently. I kept up my aural stimulation, alternately speaking and moaning into his ear, while my body pressed against his, my groin thrusting into him, pleasuring both of us at the same time. I felt my climax approaching and thought about stopping it, but the need to blast my load in his ass was too intense, too primal. With a loud, guttural roar I exploded into him, slamming him into the bed over and over again as my body contorted in ecstasy.

Sometimes when I cum I'm just like a wet noodle afterward, but not this time. This time I was so ginned up, so energetic, I couldn't stop. I rolled him over onto his back forcefully, smiling at the surprise on his face, and took his cock into my mouth. I began sucking him while I moved my hand up his thigh, gently stroking his balls, and then moving down to his ass. I pushed my finger up where my cock had been, feeling my cum lubricate my hand as I stimulated his prostate while I blew him. In no time at all he was blasting down my throat, one of his bigger loads. I licked my lips as I looked up at him, sharing a grin before I moved up to his chest.

“I'm sorry that I hurt you so bad,” he said, stroking my hair. “I never meant to do that. I wanted to make things easy for you, to make it easy for you to move on.”

“You underestimated my feelings for you, and you ignored how important our friendship is to me,” I said bitterly.

“I did. And I underestimated my feelings for you too, and I ignored how important your friendship is to me as well.” I looked up at him and gave him a big smile. He was here, completely capitulating to me, throwing himself at my feet, and asking me to still love him. The amount of humility and trust that took was almost emotionally overwhelming to me.

“JP, I am not an idiot. I know that we will not be able to be an exclusive couple and live 2000 miles apart. I know that we will meet other people to satisfy our needs, both physical and emotional.” He pulled my head more tightly to his chest, and I knew him well enough to know that he was thanking me for understanding where we were, as lovers – and as friends. “But I love you, I really do, and even if we cannot be like we were this summer, I'd like to still see you when I can, to still be your friend, to still be able to rely on you for love and support, and to still fuck you whenever I can.” That made him giggle.

“You are very persuasive,” he teased.

September 1, 1991

The terminals at O'Hare were crowded as usual, and there would probably be flight delays due especially to all the holiday traffic, but none of that could squelch my great mood.

“You seem awfully happy to see me leave,” JP said, pretending to pout.

“I am happy to see you leave,” I said, then paused for a few seconds before completing my thought, “this time. I feel so close to you, that we are so solid. It is so much better than before.”

“So you're not going to miss me?” he asked, sounding almost like Stefan when he was in his coquettish mood.

“Very funny. Of course I am going to miss you. I am going to miss you terribly. But I know that I can come see you and that you will welcome me, I know that I can call and talk to you, and I know that you still love me as much as I love you. That makes me happy.”

“It makes me happy too. It makes me really happy.” He leaned up and kissed me in the middle of O'Hare, getting us a few dirty looks. I didn't give a shit. “But I have to go catch my plane.”

“Call me and tell me that you made it back safely,” I ordered, sounding like a parent, not a lover.

“OK,” he said, and smiled cutely at me. Then he turned and headed to the jet way. I watched him as he walked down the ramp. Right before he vanished from sight he turned and gave me one last smile, and then he was gone. This time I was sad, this time I knew I would miss him, but I also knew that I hadn't completely lost him. And that, for me, was all that I needed to salvage my fragile psyche.

September 8, 1991

I drove up to the apartment in Boystown to pick up Max. Stefan had arranged for both of us to fly home for a visit before the semester started. I wondered if Lark was still there, if he'd be waiting to glare at me, if he'd try to kick my ass. I thought about that. He was fit, but so was I. It was even money that I could kick his ass. I walked up to the door a little apprehensively nonetheless, and knocked on the door.

It flew open almost immediately, and there was Max, his bag slung over his shoulder, pushing out the door and pulling it shut behind him. He pulled out his key and locked it, then turned back to me, finally acknowledging me. “Hey Marcel! Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too,” I replied, flashing him my best smile. Really good, I thought. “You ready to go?”

“Yep.” We walked to the car and he tossed his bag into the back, and we were off.

“I was not sure if you'd be alone or not,” I said cautiously.

“Lark left a few days ago,” he said sadly.

“Where did he go?” I sensed he didn't want to talk about this, but I did.

“Who knows?” he asked philosophically.

“Where does he live?”

“Who knows?” he repeated, but with a tone that told me he really didn't want to talk about it anymore.

“I'm sorry to pry. It seemed like you guys were a couple.”

He ignored me and I thought maybe I'd pushed him too far, pissed him off. If that was the case, this was going to be a long fucking plane ride. “It seems that way to me sometimes too, but we're not.”

I could recognize pain, even if I couldn't understand what this was all about. “I'm sorry. He does not deserve you.”

“How do you know that?” he asked aggressively. That really surprised me, but I pulled myself together quickly.

“Because you are way too handsome for him. You have a really cute ass.” I said that, blatantly flirting, with a slight leer when I looked at him. He looked at me and grinned slightly, then shook his head. He was blushing. God, this guy was cute.

“Save your lines. You're not getting in my pants,” he shot back playfully.

“It was not a line,” I said, this time sincerely. That got a raised eyebrow. We were at the airport now. I knew the drill and drove right up to Stef's plane. The pilots tossed our bags in the back while I gave my keys to the ramp hand. The true beauty of private air travel was so apparent here. At O'Hare, we'd have had to park, lug our bags to a counter, answer stupid security questions, go through metal detectors, wait an hour while the plane finally arrived, unloaded, and then loaded, and then we'd have had to wait another 45 minutes before the plane was airborne. Here, we were taxiing ten minutes after we got to the airport.

“You do have a cute ass you know,” I said to him as we took off.

“Shut the fuck up Marcel,” he said with a big grin.