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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Bloodlines - 49. Chapter 49

March 10, 1999

I was surprised at Professor Whist's hostility. I hadn't done anything to him, and I'd tried to be a good student when I was in his class. I didn't miss classes, except for hockey, and I always did the homework and did well on the tests. I even asked a few questions in class. He must have lumped me into the mix as one of JP's brood, and he was going to show his disdain for JP by taking it out on me. Thank God I had already taken his class. The only place he could bug me was here, and even then, it was a club, a voluntary thing, and he was only the faculty advisor. I decided that I would be polite, but I wouldn't take any shit from him. He sat there off to the side like an aristocrat in church, looking so academic it was ridiculous. He wore a tweed jacket with brown pants that didn't quite match, and had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, adding to the caricature. Except one side of his mustache was a little longer than the other. I longed to go over with a pair of scissors and fix it. The only thing remotely attractive about him was his height. He had to be at least 6'4".

I sat in the second row, next to Patricia, with Peter on my other side. There was a girl next to Patricia who was sitting pretty close to her, so I kind of figured they were together. The girl was really petite and feminine, which made Patricia kind of look like a bull dyke, when she was really nothing of the kind.

Jason began the meeting and went through various sundry business items, most of which were dull. “Three weeks from today we'll be taking nominations for officers of the club for next fall. That's after we start next quarter. We'll let each of the candidates talk for five minutes (he looked hard at Jerry, who must be a chatterbox), then have the election the following week. So if you're interested, that's your big opportunity.” He had a relaxed style when he spoke. He wasn't entirely comfortable in the spotlight, but he did a nice job anyway.

“We have a new member here tonight,” Jason said, gesturing at me. A member? I never said I'd join the club. I put that aside and smiled gamely. “Wade Danfield, who made a big splash last month when he came out.” They all clapped for me, so I stood up to acknowledge their accolades. “Next week, we had a speaker scheduled, but unfortunately she had to cancel, so if anyone knows someone interesting, let me know.”

My mind began whirling, and I decided this was as good a time to make a splash as any. “I can get a speaker for next week,” I said.

“Who?” Jason asked.

“Someone good. Let me surprise you,” I said coyly. I was being as flirtatious as I could be in a crowd, but these were mostly gay guys, and I turned around in my chair and hit them with my smile. They melted.

Jason looked at me, and then chuckled. “Alright then. We'll put our next Wednesday evening in Wade's hands.”

“You won't want to miss it,” I said, turning up the heat and the mystery. I knew exactly who I wanted to get, but I needed to make sure he could do it first.

“Well, I'd like to propose that instead of sitting around listening to people talk, we try to do something constructive,” Jerry said. “We could start a letter-writing campaign to all the congressmen and senators, demanding that they take action to legislate against hate crimes like Matthew Shepard endured.”

“What did you have in mind?” Professor Whist asked. So he was in Jerry's corner. Interesting.

“I'll get together the names and addresses of all the senators and congressmen, and a standard letter, then we can all write copies of that and mail them off,” he said. He looked at the crowd as if he'd just spouted the best idea since compound interest.

“You'll be wasting your time,” I said.

“Excuse me?” he demanded, assuming a bullying posture. That almost made me laugh out loud. Like I could be bullied by him. “You mean that if we flood the capitol with letters it won't make a difference? I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you want,” I said calmly “It won't make any difference at all.”

“I think you're wrong,” he said, challenging me.

“I know I'm right.” Before he could argue, I cut him off. “My father is a United States Senator, and he was a congressman before that. My grandfather was the governor of Virginia, and he was a congressman before that as well. I grew up with politics. I know how it works. The only people who will care about your letters are your own congressman and your own senators. You send a letter to John McCain in Arizona, and you live in California, why would he care what you think? You're not going to vote for him. You're not going to give him any money. You're not offering him anything. He won't even see your letter. It will be in the trash within a minute of being opened.”

“If they get letters from us, they'll know that there are others just like us who haven't stood up to be counted,” he pressed on gamely.

“Doesn't work that way,” I said dismissively, really pissing him off. “If you want to make any impact, write a handwritten letter to your own congressman and your two senators. That's three letters, three stamps, and you'll accomplish more than if you mailed to everyone.”

“Well I just don't agree with you,” Jerry said in a huff.

“What do you base that disagreement on?” I asked him calmly. One of the things I'd learned from my shithead of a father was how to gauge a crowd. This group was with me.

He glared at me but said nothing. I'd faced him bad in front of everyone, and made an enemy. Like I cared. “I think that's good advice Wade,” Jason said. Jerry glared at him too. “I'll be looking forward to seeing who you turn up with next week.”

That pretty much ended the formal part of the meeting. After that, everyone just hung around, socializing. I laughed to myself. In no time at all, it had turned from a club into a place to meet a boyfriend, or more likely, a hook-up. I hung around, chatting with a bunch of the members, then decided it was time to head back and see Matt.

I got back to the hospital to find Matt awake and alert, and in a really good mood. “Hey. How did your meeting go?” he asked.

“Pretty good,” I told him. “I pissed off this guy named Jerry, and guess who the faculty advisor is? Professor Whist.”

“JP's ex-boyfriend?” Matt asked, cracking us both up. I nodded.

“So what are you so happy about?” He was so much stronger, doing so much better; it just put me on top of the world.

“Tomorrow they're taking my dialysis tubes out, and if all goes well, I can go home on Saturday.” I just stared at him, my mouth wide open. It was like a dream come true. Of course, ‘home’ meant Escorial, but that was just fine with me. They had good food there. “You're happy, right?”

“Of course I'm happy, dumb ass,” I said. “I just never dreamed it would happen this soon.”

“I get my catheter out too,” he said, winking at me, and making me giggle like a girl. Then I kissed him gently, moved my bed over by his, and lay next to him, stroking his hair.

March 13, 1999

I walked next to Matt as they rolled him out in his wheelchair. We kept smiling at each other. I was so happy I could hardly stand it. Jack had given us a final briefing before his discharge this morning, and it was all good news. Matt's liver function had really improved, and although his kidney function wasn't great, it had stabilized. But best of all, Matt seemed to be a little like his old self. He was alert and smiling, and even flirted with his nurse this morning. JP and Stef were there, of course, as we helped Matt into the limo.

“It will be so good to have you back at home,” JP said.

“And it will be nice to have you around too Wade,” Stef said, flirting. Matt pretended to give him a dirty look.

“I'm excited to have some good food for a change,” I said. “That hospital food sucks. It's worse than the cafeteria.”

“No shit,” Matt agreed. We got back to Escorial and there was another wheelchair waiting for him, along with a handsome guy, probably in his mid-30s.

“This is Anthony,” JP said, introducing us. “He's here to help take care of you,” he said to Matt. I hid my irritation. I didn't want a nurse around, I didn't want anyone around. I wanted to be with Matt, just the two of us, in bed with no fucking tubes. If he needed help, I could take care of him.

“Nice to meet you Anthony,” Matt said, shaking his hand. Anthony made to help him into the wheelchair, but Matt declined.

“I'm going to walk,” he announced. “You help me?” he asked me. I beamed at him. This fight for his health was all about the two of us, and he made sure to let me know that whenever he could. Surprisingly enough, Anthony just smiled. He followed us dutifully as Matt walked down the hall to his room, his arm over my shoulder for support. I could feel the energy fading from him fast as we hiked across the enormous house. I was almost worried we'd need Anthony's help, but I felt Matt steel himself and get that final surge of energy he needed to make it to his room, and into bed.

“Is there anything you need?” Anthony asked.

“No, I'm fine for right now. I want to rest.” Anthony looked at me, waiting for me to leave, but I wasn't moving. No fucking way. Then he smiled and nodded. “Here's a walkie-talkie,” he said. There had to be a better name than that, I thought. “You need anything, just buzz.”

“Thanks Anthony,” Matt said. Isidore and Frank stopped in to welcome Matt home, and then they left us alone. Matt collapsed onto his back, pretty exhausted. “Come here baby,” he said. I rolled my eyes. It used to bug me when he called me that when we weren't fucking, but that kind of stuff seemed so stupid now. He could call me anything he wanted. I lay down next to him, my leg draped over his, my head propped up so I could look him in the eye.

I leaned in to kiss him gently, only this time he didn't break it off, he just intensified it. I felt my body responding to him, to his attention. I broke off the kiss and looked at him. “Did Jack say anything about sex?” I was panting, and that got me a grin.

“Yeah, no sex for a while. Only blow jobs and hand jobs,” he said sadly. I lowered my hand to his crotch and felt his dick start to harden.

“I can work with that,” I said. I moved my mouth down his chest, avoiding the area with the bandage from the dialysis tube, and continued down to his jeans. I licked his belly button, making him giggle, then ran my tongue down his treasure trail while I unbuckled his pants. His dick wasn't fully hard, but I'd expected that, looked forward to it. I took him into my mouth, working him with my mouth like I'd done that first time I'd blown him. His smell, his aroma wafted up to my nose. I'd noticed that when we'd first become friends, it could get a little pungent, but now it was like an aphrodisiac.

“Oh God, I love that,” he moaned. I felt his dick getting harder and harder in my mouth as I gently massaged it with my cheeks and tongue. Then I moved up and down so slowly, so tantalizingly, I was driving him nuts. “Wade, gonna cum,” he said urgently. Then he blew, flooding me with the pent up load that had been building up these past weeks he'd been laid up. He moaned as he thrust into my mouth, but as much as he shot, I swallowed. I didn't miss a drop.

I pulled off him when he was done and smiled up at him. “I won't need dinner now.”

He chuckled. “Thanks.” His hand reached down to my crotch. “What about you?”

“Let's rest for a while, then maybe you can help me out,” I said. Then I snuggled up to him like I loved to do, burying my head in his neck, feeling his strengthening body underneath me and his arm wrapped around me protectively. We drifted off to sleep like that, his pants still opened up and his dick still hanging out.

“Ahem,” said a voice, waking me up. I looked up to see Anthony smiling down at us. “I'm sorry to bother you, but dinner is in an hour. I thought you guys might want some time to get ready.”

“Thanks Anthony,” I said.

“I want to take a shower,” Matt said.

“Let me get you ready,” Anthony said. “We have to keep the water away from your chest.” He wrapped some crap around Matt's chest and then we helped him into the shower. “If you need my help, I'll be right outside the door.” He was really a cool guy, making sure we had as much time alone, and together, as possible. The shower had a hand held wand thing, so I stripped off and got in with him, washing his entire body off gently while he leaned against the shower wall.

When I sprayed the water on his ass, he moaned, and that made me giggle. I switched the shower head to massage and spread his ass cheeks, letting the pulsing water pound against his hole. “God, I want you,” he said. I stood up behind him and rubbed my cock along his taint while I jacked him off to yet another orgasm. He sat on the seat in the shower and took the shower head from me. “Jack off. Blow your load all over me,” he said. He sprayed me playfully with the shower massager while I stroked my dick. I was so horny I was damn near ready to explode without any help at all, so it didn't take long. I blasted my load on him, avoiding his chest, while he watched me, his mouth in a sexy ‘o’ shape. Then we rinsed off and Anthony changed Matt's bandage, helped him get dressed, and wheeled him down to dinner. He'd exerted himself too much in the shower to walk.

It was quite a crowd waiting for us. Claire and Jack were there, along with Ace and Cass. “It is so wonderful to have you both back here with us,” Isidore said. Anthony made to leave but she stopped him. “Anthony, please join us. There's a place for you right there,” she said, pointing at a chair.

“That's alright ma'am,” he said nervously.

“Nonsense. Sit down and eat,” JP said authoritatively. Anthony smiled and sat down.

“So how are you feeling?” Jack asked.

“I'm a little tired. Wade's wearing me out. I think he missed me.” I felt myself blushing while everyone chuckled.

“Well, not too much exertion,” Jack cautioned.

“You are no fun,” Stef said.

There was a pause in conversation, so I took that opportunity to ask the question I'd wanted to ask Stef for the past few days. “I went to the GLBT Club meeting on Wednesday night,” I said. “I need to drum up a speaker for this coming Wednesday. I was wondering if you'd be willing to do that, to talk to our club?”

“I would be happy to help you out,” Stef said. “Let me check my schedule after dinner.” He paused. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“I think they'd like to hear about the time you got shot,” Matt said. I stared at Stef. I didn't know about that. “If you're comfortable talking about it. These guys are out and open, and you helped blaze that trail.”

JP held his hand. “That was one of the scariest times of my life,” he said. “I almost lost you.”

Stef gazed back at him lovingly. “I will try to dream something up,” he said.

“Guess who the faculty advisor is?” I asked him. I saw JP cringe. He knew who it was.

“I do not know,” Stef said.

“Professor Whist.” Frank laughed so hard he almost spit his wine out, and Isidore did as well. JP glared at them, which made the rest of us laugh too.

“Benjamin. I wonder if he will be happy to see me.” Stef joked.

“Unlikely,” Frank said.

“Well if Benjamin is there, I will clear whatever I have on Wednesday and speak to your group,” Stef said, looking at JP who rolled his eyes. “You will come with me.”

“Great,” JP said sarcastically.

“He asked me if I was with Matt,” I said. “He seemed to hate me after that. I think he lumps me in with you.” I looked at JP when I said that.

“I'm not his favorite person,” JP said.

“There's a really bitchy guy stumping for the job of President next year. A couple of the other guys want me to run, but I don't know what he'll think about that,” I said.

“The most he can do is to threaten to resign as faculty advisor. You need to have one to remain a valid club,” JP said. Stefan looked at him intensely, and he sighed. “I've tried to avoid getting involved with too many student organizations, but if you need a replacement, I will step in.”

“Thanks JP,” I said. I felt like I was plotting a coup.

“It is the least you can do,” Isidore said. “It is you he hates. He is striking at Wade to get to you.”

“I am aware of that,” JP said, irritated. It was funny how whenever he got irritated, people laughed at him. That would really piss me off, but he seemed to take it in stride.

“So you're plotting to take over the GLBT club? You're such a political animal,” Matt teased.

“It's in my blood,” I teased back. Only it was true.

March 14, 1999

I woke up in my favorite position, sprawled across Matt. I moved my leg and it bumped into his rock hard cock, making me giggle. Here he was, less than two weeks away from damn near dying, and he was already the same horn dog he'd been before. The love I felt for him flowed through my body, fueling my own desires. I wanted him, I wanted to be one with him, I wanted him inside me, but I wasn't sure if we could do that. I nibbled on his neck until he woke up.

“You're horny this morning,” he teased me.

“I'm so horny I can't stand it,” I whispered into his ear. “God, I want you so bad. I want you inside me.” I felt him stiffen, fired up by the lust I'd triggered. It was so fun to get him all turned on. “Do you think if you lay there and I was on top of you, and I did all the work, it would be OK?”

“Fuck yeah it would be OK,” he said. Like he would follow the rules and say no, I thought playfully. I grabbed the lube that was always at the side of the bed and slathered it on his dick, and reached around and lubed myself a bit too, then lowered myself down on him. God, he felt good. He had the best dick for fucking; it was long and on the skinny side.

He started to move his hips. “Uh-uh,” I ordered. “You lie still.”

“Yes sir,” he said with his impish grin. But the grin vanished soon enough after I started moving, up and forward, down and back, so I could feel his big dick sliding in and out of me, grazing across my prostate in a long fluid motion.

He grabbed the lube and put some on my dick and started stroking me in sequence to the thrusts. “Fuck that's amazing,” I heard myself say. I was losing it, losing my ability to comprehend anything as I got closer to orgasm. Then I felt it rising, deep in my balls. “Gonna cum!” was all I could say. And then I did. It was fucking awesome. My first shot flew past Matt's head and hit the headboard, such was the intensity.

I was just riding the orgasm down when I felt him stiffen underneath me. I looked down to see that adorable expression he makes when he cums. He rolls his eyes back into his head and gets this stupid grin that alternates with his ‘o’ shape or blatant panting. And his nose, which is kind of flat, flares out like a snarling animal. He started blasting inside me, and it fueled me on. My orgasm, that should have stopped, didn't, it just kept going and going and going. I almost fell on him, but managed to pivot myself to his side: my muscles had gotten that out of control.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked.

He smiled. “That was me showing you how much I love you.”

“Listen to you, being the romantic fucker,” I teased.

“I'm serious,” he said. I gazed into his eyes. I'd be lying if I said there weren't days when I worried that he might decide to move on, to leave me and all my fucking baggage behind. But the pain was so hard when I thought about it that I always distracted myself and forced that possibility out of my mind. He had become the focal point of my life. I had no parents, no real family, but I had Matt. I sometimes worried that I'd smother him, or he'd find someone else to love. But now, as I looked into his eyes, that whole thought, that concept, vanished. I knew that he needed me, and loved me, just as much as I loved him.

“I am so glad you're better,” I told him, sounding like an idiot. “I don't think I could have handled life without you.”

“You're the one who kept me going. You were the reason I fought so hard,” he said. I just sank into him, ignoring my cum that was splattered all over his chest. The romantic mood was broken up by a knock on the door. It was just as well, it was getting too maudlin for both of us. Anthony came in and it was really funny. He looked at us, lying there naked on the bed, our room reeking of sex, and sort of stopped, stunned. Then he smiled, a big cute smile.

“I'm sorry to bother you, but I figured you'd want some breakfast. I can bring it to you if you want,” he said.

“Breakfast in bed?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah. You'd get all pissed off if there were crumbs in the bed. Shit, the sheet is wrinkled and you can't sleep in it,” Matt said, giving me shit about my obsessive-compulsive issues.

“Well it's not in pristine condition now, is it,” I said, being a smart-ass.

“I need to take a shower,” he said. “I should clean myself off first.” I suddenly blushed, remembering that Anthony would have to put his bandage on his cum-covered chest.

“I'll be right back. I have to get some more of that wrapping,” he said diplomatically. I grabbed a towel and wiped off all the cum, oblivious to the fact that we were there with this guy, stark naked. Anthony came back in and wrapped Matt up, ogling both of us as he did, trying to ignore our nudity. I knew that Matt was dying to tease him, but the poor guy was being so nice I tried to save him that torture by hustling Matt into the shower and washing him off.

We had breakfast then Brad and Robbie showed up to hang out with us. It was so much more pleasant now that Matt was recovering. Robbie had calmed himself now, and that seemed to help Brad relax too. It was a beautiful day, so I helped Matt out onto the patio for some fresh air, and to hang out with everyone while they smoked a J.

“I wonder if I'm allowed to get high?” he asked.

“Probably not,” JP said. Brad rolled his eyes and handed Matt the joint anyway.

“What are you doing?” Robbie demanded.

“It's his decision to make, not mine and not yours,” Brad said assertively. Robbie grumbled, but couldn't argue with that logic. Matt handed me the joint without taking a hit, which was a really nice thing to do. I was under no such restrictions, so I enjoyed the smoke.

The whole interaction had been really interesting. Brad tried so hard to be like JP, so stoic and so calm, yet he could never quite pull that off. Dr. Carrswold was right; he was a hot-head underneath his smooth veneer. I smiled when I thought about that, and about how Matt was even worse. Of the guys at the table, I was probably the only one who came close to replicating JP's stolid exterior. Maybe that's why there seemed to be this unspoken bond between us. I looked up and met his eyes, and JP smiled back at me knowingly.

“I was wondering what you planned for Spring Break?” JP asked Matt. He looked at me, but I just shrugged.

“I didn't really have any plans. That's next week. If I'm feeling better, it would be nice to get away for a few days,” Matt said.

“We usually try to do something,” JP said, referring to him and Stef. “Sometimes it's just a trip down to Malibu, but other times we try to go somewhere warmer. If you are up to it, you are both welcome to join us, wherever we end up.” There was a note of frustration in JP's voice at the end of his sentence, and it cracked me up because I knew why. He didn't like not having his break all planned out and organized, and I'd had the same sensation when he'd brought it up.

“I will think of something fun and spontaneous as usual,” Stef said, ignoring his frustration. They were so good for each other. “I have been working on my speech for next Wednesday.” His eyes had that mischievous twinkle.

“You have?” JP asked, as he was seemingly meant to.

“I thought I'd talk about how I had to fight to steal you away from your stuffy, boring former boyfriend. A love story,” Stef said.

“I'm sure the members would enjoy that,” I joked.

“The faculty advisor would not,” JP observed. Something told me that Professor Whist wouldn't like anything that Stef said.

March 17, 1999

Matt insisted on coming to hear Stef talk, and that really made me nervous. First of all, there were a lot of people he hadn't seen yet, like the team, and they may resent that he went to the GLBT meeting first. But that was nothing compared to my fears that he was exerting himself too much. It was all I could do to keep him from pushing himself during sex. Jack said we could experiment with it on our Spring Break trip, but made us promise to take it easy. We still didn't know where we were going, and that frustrated both JP and me.

Anthony wheeled Matt down the hall with me next to him. Stef followed behind us, with a reluctant JP in tow. He was obviously dreading this encounter with Professor Whist, almost as much as Stef was excited about it. Stef had his bodyguard walking behind them. Since the Matthew Shepard incident, he'd insisted on security when he went out in public, but he tactfully referred to him as his “aide”. We got to the room and there were some guys hanging out outside the room. When they saw Stef their mouths dropped. He was an icon in the gay community. There probably wasn't a gay boy out there who didn't know what he looked like. I led Matt into the room and over to the side where he would have a good view, then turned to make sure Stef got situated.

Peter and Jason walked up. I could tell they'd been nervous, wondering who I'd bring along. When Peter saw Stef, I thought he was going to shit a brick. It was too funny. The whole room had gone quiet and the focus was on Stef. There were murmurs among the group, and a few guys snuck out to call friends.

“You're Stefan Schluter!” Peter said.

“I most certainly am,” Stef said, flirting shamelessly. “And you are?”

“Peter Parker, sir,” he said, shaking Stef's hand.

“You are into bondage?” Stef asked. I tried not to chuckle but it was impossible.

“Nnnno,” Peter stammered.

“Then do not call me sir,” he said. “You should try it, though. I think you would enjoy being tied up.” Everyone laughed at poor Peter. “I am sorry. Did I embarrass you?” Stef asked as he put his arm around Peter.

“It's no problem,” he said. He was so cute in his normal kind of way. Peter introduced him to the other officers, including Jerry, who was the secretary. Jerry was so conflicted it was really funny. On the one hand, it was hard for him not to be impressed with Stef. On the other hand, having me deliver up this star speaker was a blow to his aspirations, and he wasn't stupid enough not to realize I would be one of his competitors.

Professor Whist stood off to the side, looking like he was about to explode. Stef strolled up to him, and I looked down at Matt knowingly. “Benjamin. It has been a long time since I have seen you.”

“It has,” Whist said coldly.

“Still, I think you are wearing the same jacket you had on at that time. Was that not five years ago?”

“Not quite,” he said. “It's not the same jacket.”

“My mistake. It just looks the same then,” Stef sniffed, and everyone tried not to laugh.

“What is your topic of discussion this evening?” Whist asked. I saw him shoot a nasty look at JP.

“Well Peter wanted me to talk about bondage, but that's not what I was planning to cover. Unless you wanted to help me?” Stef asked. The chuckles were audible now.

“Certainly not!” Whist said, horrified.

“Come now. Tell me you don't occasionally fantasize about tying me up and whipping me,” Stef said, goading him on.

“I think the group is waiting for you to start,” JP said, gallantly saving Whist. He got a dirty look from both of them for his efforts. The group would have much rather seen Stef tease Whist into a tizzy.

“Very well,” Stef said, and he walked up to the front of the room and wrote his name on the board like a professor would, then stared at his hands disdainfully, irritated at having chalk on them. Then he walked around the desk and sat on it casually. He had worn a really sleek outfit in a pale green color, not one of his wilder deals, and it really looked good on him.

“I tried to think of what to talk about, and I decided to let you guide this meeting,” Stef said to the group. “I am sure you have had your fill of stuffy lectures.” He looked straight at Whist, who glared back at him, then stormed out of the room. “Much better.” Everyone laughed but Jerry.

“They say you're worth over a billion dollars,” one of the guys, a cute twink said. “Is that true?”

“You are after me for my money?” Stef teased, and everyone laughed. “They say that, but it is only on paper.”

“I'd be after you even if you weren't rich,” the twink said, flirting back gamely. JP just shook his head. “Are your holdings in real estate, or stocks?”

And then Stef switched from the flirting fag into the amazing businessman he was. He walked back up to the board and drew a pie chart, then proceeded to itemize the sectors he had invested in, pointing out some of the more interesting projects in each. “I recently acquired a large tract of land in Wyoming. When I went up to check it out, I had the honor to meet Matthew Shepard.”

That shook up the crowd, especially when a tear fell down his cheek. I knew this would be hard on Matt too, so I held his hand while Stef talked about Matthew and what he was like. He described his murder, and the time he spent with Matthew's family. “There were the most horrible people demonstrating at the funeral. It was just beyond tasteless. They were holding up signs that said ‘God hates Fags’ and ‘Matt is in Hell’. Can you imagine, having someone close to you die, and then having those idiots there with such hateful slogans.” The rage in the group was palpable. “But Matt here dragged me over to about ten feet away from them and gave me one magnificent kiss. He even grabbed my ass, and don't think I didn't enjoy that.” Everyone laughed. “It certainly pissed them off.” A small victory to focus on.

“Weren't you shot by someone for being gay?” a dorky looking guy asked. He had to be an engineer.

“You have been reading my biography?” Stef asked. He walked up to the guy and ran his hand across his shoulder. “That is so flattering.” The guy was so red he could be a fire truck. But then Stef smiled at him, pouring on the charm, to ease the teasing. God, he was good. “To answer your question, I was. It was in 1973. My partner at the time was a Hollywood producer, and we were at a benefit. We were celebrating because they had just changed the DSM and declared that homosexuality was no longer considered to be a disease. When we walked out of the event, a car drove by; a man yelled ‘Die faggots’ and started shooting at us.”

He paused for a minute and wiped away a tear. “Our poor limo driver, a man with a wife and children, was killed. My partner was hurt, but he recovered quickly enough. The shot that hit me barely missed my heart, and lodged in my spine. I was comatose for more than two weeks, and then it took me six months of hard work and therapy to recover.” They stared at him intently, as tears poured down his cheeks. “I was in that coma, and there was one man who was there for me, who has always been there for me, making sure they took care of me.” He looked over at JP and everyone's eyes shifted over to him, making him uncomfortable, but he fought that off, and just gazed back at Stef with that total look of love that was so priceless. I looked over at Matt, both of us feeling the analogy of our situation with theirs.

Then the twinkle in Stef's eye emerged again. “You all know my partner, Professor Crampton?” JP cringed at the attention. “If he gives you a bad grade, let me know and I will punish him.” Everyone laughed, and JP just shook his head. There were a few more questions and comments, and then Jason tactfully ended it. They gave Stefan a standing ovation, clearly worshiping him for the icon and man that he was.

“As you leave, my aide in back has a present for you. It is a $100 gift card you can use at Macy's. As members of the GLBT community, you have to look fashionable, even you lesbians,” he said, glancing at a few of the women and cracking them up. “I had one for Benjamin. I think tweed jackets are on clearance, but he has vanished. Maybe you can give it to him for me Jason?” More laughs.

Jerry looked at me as we walked out, a more evil look was hard to imagine. I'd just walked in and pulled the rug out from under him. It was going to be really difficult for him to beat me when election time came around.

  

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Well, round one to Wade and team but I have a feeling that Jerry Kohl and Professor Whist will be more prepared on the counter attack...

 

It is fun to watch Wade in a political situation. He is so at home and just seems to understand the nuances so well. His actions will prove his skill. This is just starting to get good....

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Leave it to Stef to do a speaking engagement for the Stanford University GLBT club and do something nice like giving each of them gift cards to Macy's. He embarrassed a few of the members and then put them at ease just as fast. I'm sure that Wade won't have any trouble becoming president of the club from anyone. I'm glad that Matt is doing better and appears to be getting stronger everyday.

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I like the tension is the Club. I remember having a neighbor I went to high school with; she was all into Save The Whales, No Nukes, blah blah blah, but when she finished eating at school, instead of throwing away her own garbage, she'd get up and walk away. She wanted to end worldwide pollution, but wouldn't take the simplest of jobs to end pollution in our own school.

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