Lightning In a Bottle

"I'd love to," I said. "But, I don't think we have time. I told Freddie to wake me, and he's going to bang on the door any time."

"I do not care. I need to feel you inside me before you go. Please."

I was already dressed for golf. John's neediness made me hard. He was on his back, and he raised his legs, exposing himself. I unzipped my shorts, pulled my dick through the opening in my briefs, and moved over him. I was about to spit in my hand, but John said, "I got myself ready."

I pushed into him. I tried to fuck him slowly to avoid making noise, but he would not have it. "Hurry," he said. "Fuck me harder."

I sped up. I could not go fast enough for John. "Freddie is going to hear us," I warned.

"I do not care," John said. "I need you to fuck me harder."

I started pounding in and out of him. I was sure Freddie could hear the bedsprings and the floor boards, just as I could when John was fucking Vi and I was on the couch. I stopped caring. I could see the pleasure I was delivering on John's face, and that is all I cared about.

"Oh, Josie," I said. "I'm so close."

"Me, too," John said, grabbing his dick and starting to jerk it. I heard Freddie knock on the door and call my name just as I was filling John's ass.

"Oh, God," I said. "I think Freddie is in the next room."

"Stay there. I am really close."

I stayed inside John as I softened. He came just as Freddie knocked on his door. I pulled out, put my dick away, and zipped up my shorts.

"Just a second," I said. "I'll be right there."

I grabbed a pair of John's socks and hustled to the door. As I was about to open it, I looked toward John and mouthed "tons." He mouthed "tons" back.

"Sorry," I said to Freddie. "I had to get a pair of socks. I have only dress socks here."

"No worries," Freddie said. But, I did not think he bought my explanation. After all, I wouldn't need to close the door behind me just to borrow socks.

*****

When we got home from golf, my heart leapt when I saw John's Cherokee still parked in front of the building. He had not gone to visit Vi.

When we got upstairs, there was a note. "Vi called. She needs to focus on school, so this weekend is not good. I am going for a run around the Park. I would like to hang out with you guys tonight, but I do not want to intrude."

Freddie read the note over my shoulder. He was not fooled. "He stayed to be with you."

"Freddie, I really think you're wrong," I said.

"I'm not. And, now I'm pretty sure you have the same feelings for him that he has for you. Which is totally cool. I'm not going to judge. My brother's gay. I fucked a guy in college, just to see what it was like. Different strokes for different folks. But, don't bullshit me. The sound of fucking is pretty singular, and I know I heard fucking this morning. I don't know who was fucking who, but someone was fucking someone, and it was only you and John."

Caught red-handed, I relented. "Fine. You win. I was fucking him. It came out of nowhere, and now we're lost in it."

"Well . . . . A hint of honesty. Congratulations. To both of you. That's awesome. Don't let go without a fight."

"I won't," I insisted.

"It's going to get hard, especially if he's going to try to keep pretending to have a girlfriend."

"Well, I have Ellie," I responded.

"Ellie's not your girlfriend, and you're not her boyfriend. You two fuck each other. That's all you do."

"Well, that's not all we do," I said, laughing.

"Right. You two fuck and suck and lick and do whatever. But, you're not in a relationship. You're exercise equipment. Fuck, you like me more than you like her."

I had no response. He was right. I liked him more than anyone else, save John.

We each showered and washed the golf and sweat off. We put on music. We drank wine. Freddie loaded a pipe and smoked pot. He offered some to me, but I declined.

"So, you fucked a guy?" I asked.

"Sure. It was Boulder. Everyone did everything. It was the only way to fit in."

"Did you like it?"

"What's not to like? It was tight and warm and wrapped around my dick."

"You ever been fucked?" I asked.

"Uh . . . . no. I'm not gay, and I have no interest in getting fucked."

"You ever blow a guy?" I followed up.

"No. I also have no interest in sucking a dick. But, I let a gay friend talk me into letting him blow me. Once he did, I had to keep letting him. He was awesome at it."

"I'm getting better at it," I offered.

"Congratulations, I guess," Freddie said. "I mean, whatever floats your boat."

I let it drop. I didn't want Freddie to think I wanted to blow him, and I thought that's what the conversation was suggesting.

When John got back from his run, I bounded after him to his room. "Look," I said. "Freddie knows. Don't freak out. He figured it out himself."

"I assumed. We made a lot of noise this morning. And, I did not think he would think we were jumping on the bed like little kids."

"I'm glad you're here," I said, changing the subject, and kissing him. "It's a great surprise. I almost burst when I saw your car."

"It is our last weekend like this. I decided I could not miss any of it."

At dinner, we didn't have to hide anything. We could be in love.

When we got home, I offered Freddie my bed. He declined, presumably because he didn't want to hear whatever was going to be going on the back bedroom.

As soon as we closed the door behind us, John pinned me to it with a bold, strong kiss. He buried his tongue in my mouth and devoured me. He worked his way down me, removing clothes as he did. He took me in his mouth, and he went down farther than he ever had. He grabbed my hips and controlled my rhythm against his. I floated away as I came in his mouth.

We moved to the bed. John pinned my legs against my chest and went at me. I was floating away again, in love and intoxicated by lust. He held my legs against his shoulders as he entered me, kneeling. The deliberation of the night before was gone. We were indifferent to what Freddie heard or knew. He fucked me hard, and I loved it. We were drenched in sweat when John came, which made me come all over myself.

When we were cleaned up and ready to sleep, I took John's hands in mine.

"Thank you, Josie," I said.

"For what?"

"For sticking around. And, for loving me."

"You are welcome. But, I stuck around for me, not you. And, loving you is the easiest thing I have ever done."

I folded my face into his chest hair. He had said the best thing I had ever heard.

He stroked my back and said, "I would be lost without you."

"I am lost with you," I responded. He pulled me close and kissed the top of my head.

"Never let me go," he said.

"I couldn't," I responded, "even if it was the right thing to do."

"It is not," he assured me.

Part Eight

I headed back to Chicago, planning to visit John every weekend until his summer ended. Although we had talked about it, reality thwarted our idea of living together. He already had a lease with two friends. I had a non-refundable deposit.

I bought a car, so I could travel toward him when I needed to see him. He had a car, so the opposite was true.

When I unloaded my things, I found an envelope with "Carrot" written in John's simple script. I opened it to find a brief note: "I love the getting caught in thunderstorms. Always and forever, John."

The "A and F" from "always and forever" became another code for us. Quickly, it became Abercrombie and Fitch. When I wanted to tell John I loved him at a table full of people, I now had three codes: "Lightning," "Tons," and "Abercrombie and Fitch."

As a 2L, I set my own schedule. All of my classes met only on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, which left every Thursday and Friday free. As soon as I was done on Wednesday, I beelined down 55 to St. Louis. John had to work Thursday and Friday, so I studied. I put my books down when he got home, stripped, and joined him on the living room floor or in his bed. The sex was fantastic. The intimacy was better.

On my first weekend back, we laid on the living room floor. We were cheek to cheek, but pointing in opposite directions.

I had taken to calling him "L.O.M.L." which was shorthand for "love of my life." I raised my hand and cradled his left cheek. "LOML," I said. "What's the next chapter?

We proceeded to talk about dreams, goals, life, and perceptions. John definitely wanted our story to continue, but he wanted it to be a side story, hidden from view.

He wanted to get married. He wanted me to get married. He wanted our wives to be friends. He wanted our kids to play together. And, he wanted to keep going as we were going, hiding in plain sight.

Open with me did not fit his view. He wanted to be admired and respected. He wanted to rub elbows with Senators, business leaders, and other pillars of the community.

I wanted none of those things. I wanted John, notorious and open. But, I was too much in the throes of it to throw down the gauntlet.

Each visit was like the one before. We spent almost all our time naked and wrapped in each other. When we weren't making love, we read to each other, in bed, on the couch, or on the living room floor. More often than not, he read to me. He had a better voice. And, I liked to rest my head on his chest or in his lap as he read.

Every time Vi offered to visit, John turned her down. He claimed he was too busy trying to get a permanent offer from Bryan Cave. His claim was specious. He had gone to Yale. He was at U of C. He was clerking on the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals. He had an offer before the summer even started.

Freddie went with me for the final weekend before John returned to Chicago. He had met a girl on his prior visit, and he thought a weekend visit might get him laid. When I picked him up for the drive back to Chicago, it was clear he had been wrong.

"She was a total cocktease," he diagnosed. "And, now Black Bart is hungry."

"Black Bart?" I asked.

"My dick."

"I have to ask, why 'Black Bart'?"

"Black Bart was a famous miner. He spent his life in dark tunnels. So, I named my dick after him. They have a lot in common. My dick loves dark tunnels."

"Actually, that's pretty clever," I said.

About halfway to Chicago, we stopped for gas and a snack. Freddie offered to drive the rest of the way, and I let him.

After about thirty minutes, Freddie started in about a sex game he had played with his buddies in college. They tallied points, depending on what who got what and when. The point of his story seemed to be that "road head" carried a significant point total. I thought I knew where he was headed, but I decided to let it play out.

After another fifteen minutes or so, Freddie reminded me that he had let a gay friend blow him in college. I cut to the chase.

"Freddie, you seem to be fishing for a blow job. If you want one, you're going to have to ask for one."

"May I have a blow job please?" he asked.

"I dunno. It feels like I'd be cheating on John."

"Are you kidding me?" he asked. "You fuck Ellie. He fucks Vi. Cheating is inherent in what you're doing."

"Yeah, but they're both girls. Somehow, it feels different."

"Suit yourself," he said. "But, I have a really nice dick. Black Bart is tall, dark, and handsome, just like me."

"Show him to me. Maybe I'll change my mind."

Freddie pulled his shorts out and tucked the waist band under his balls. He was right. He had an awesome dick. Not as big as mine, but perfectly shaped.

"Tempting, isn't it?" he asked.

"It is. I'd be lying if I told you it isn't."

"Take it if you want it," he said.

I felt a pang of guilt, but I decided to seize the moment. I leaned over and took Black Bart into my mouth. He was sweaty and salty, but smooth as silk. Freddie weaved his hand into the back of my hair and controlled both the depth and tempo. It was not long before I felt Black Bart swell, as if he was flexing his muscles. Freddie's cum followed, filling my mouth. It tasted of vanilla.

"Well, how'd I do," I asked.

"You're a natural. Like a duck to water."

"You have a nice dick."

"Thanks. I told you I did."

"Not as nice as mine. But, nice, nonetheless."

"Why'd you change your mind?" he asked.

"I thought I should experiment a little. I mean, I just started all this. I wanted to see what it was like with someone besides John."

"Was it any different?"

"Not really. But, your cum tastes better. Not as bitter. A little sweet."

"Hmm. I've never heard that before."

"Haven't you ever tasted it?" I asked.

"Nope."

"You should try it."

"I think I might."

*****

By the time John returned to Chicago at the end of September, Ellie and I were done. Freddie had been right about us, and she "connected" with a first year she met in the lunch line (ridiculously, he was from Wyoming and named Clint). Go figure. I was not disappointed, but I gave her a multiple orgasm as a parting gift.

As I left, she said, "I may call you if I ever need to be fucked properly."

"Don't lose my number," I said. "When Clint is done and gone, call me. I'll finish what he can't."

Vi was not as easy to re-direct. She obviously felt threatened, as she acted like a dog when the baby is brought home. She was constantly trying to insinuate herself between me and John. I was not party to their exchanges, thankfully. I felt for John. He was trying to balance unequal weights.

I wanted John to meet the Brady Bunch, as our class referred to us. We were six, three men (Freddie, Gregory, and me) and three women (Ellie, Jennifer, and Maggie). We all went to dinner, and John joined us.

About halfway through dinner, I went to the bathroom, and Maggie followed me. Maggie was my partner in comedic crime.

"Max, what the fuck? Are you guys lovers?"

"No," I lied. "Why?"

"You should be. It's clear you're in love with each other."

"We're not. I have no idea why you even say that."

"Well, you may not know it yet, but you are. I hope someday someone looks at me the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him."

"I think you're seeing things," I admonished.

"I think you're ignoring things," she rejoined. "Or lying."

"I'm not lying," I lied again.

"Well, I'm not seeing things. You guys are head over heels for each other. If you haven't acted on it, you should. Before it's too late."

"I'm not gay," I persisted.

"I'm not saying you are. But, I am saying you are in love with John. If you're in love with someone, you should let them know. Sooner than later. It doesn't matter who it is. Love is fleeting. Don't miss it."

I hugged her. I knew as I did that I was confirming all that I had denied. I squeezed her tight, and she squeezed me tighter. "I'm so happy for you," she whispered in my ear.

"Don't tell Ellie," I said. Ellie and Maggie were thicker than thieves.

"She knows. She told me about 'John' after she visited you this summer. She said she thought you were in love with him. If not, then she was convinced you were obsessed with him. She said he was all you talked about."

"I had just met him," I said. "I had never felt anything like that. When he looked at me, I felt like I was the only person in the room."

"Max, I am really happy for you. Please be careful. And," she emphasized, "safe."

"We are," I lied yet again.

*****

Halloween weekend, John and I rented a cabin in Wisconsin. I have no idea what he told Vi.

I gave him a roadie as we drove north. When I was finished and back upright in my seat, he took my hand in his, weaving his fingers between mine. I pulled his hand to my face and kissed it.

"I love you, Josie," I said. "Always and forever."

"I love you, too, Carrot," he offered back. "Tons."

We didn't say anything for the next hour. When we got settled in our cabin, we were so needy we almost tore each other's clothes off. I laid flat on the bed, my arms above my head. John stood at the foot of the bed, holding my feet against his shoulders. He stood as he took me.

When he was finished, he asked me to take him. He was on his back, and he insisted I go as slow as I could. I have no idea how long I took, but it was the slowest fuck I have ever delivered. He took the length of me over and over as we stared into each other's eyes. My arms were about to give out when I finally came, shuddering as I did.

We needn't have driven to a cabin. We never went outside.

We went on like that, sneaking fucks whenever we could and not sneaking them when we didn't have to. I had met John's friends, and they agreed with his "remarkably normal" diagnosis. His friends were not "remarkably normal." They were erudite and extraordinary. They would some day make the rules we all lived by.

*****

At Christmas, I drove John home. Because of ice, our five hour drive took ten.

I spent the entire three week break at his house. His mother told me I could not be more welcome if I had been kidnapped.

John's mother set me up in my own room on John's floor. We were smart, so I rolled around in the bed so it smelled of me. But, I spent every night in John's bed. To avoid making noise, we fucked and sucked on the floor. But, we slept in his bed, wrapped in each other.

I didn't care what my parents thought. I didn't see them much over the break. John was the most important thing to me at that point.

On Christmas Eve, John gave me a handmade backgammon set as a gift. I gave him an authentic Blues jersey and a CD of our songs, starting with "Mr. Blue."

His parents had long since gone to bed when we exchanged gifts. We built a fire in the fireplace and opened a bottle of Cabernet. It was late, and we were on the floor in front of the fireplace when John suggested we should welcome Christmas making love to each other. We slowly undressed, kissing as we did. We took each other in front of the fire, slowly. We now always stared deep into each other's eyes as we made love. It was the most romantic night of my life. It was 2 a.m. when we finished with each other. John pulled a blanket over us as the fire died. We weren't thinking properly. We fell asleep, naked, on the living room floor.

John's mother woke us up the next morning. "Merry Christmas, Sleepy Heads," she said, ignoring that her son was naked with another man on her living room floor.

She went to the kitchen. John turned to me, kissed my forehead, and said, "Calm down, my mother is awesome."

"I'm naked," I pleaded.

"I know," he said, grabbing my dick and kissing me. He jacked me as we kissed. I felt sinful when I came in his hand, his mother just through the archway.

Not long after, John's mom was at the door. "John," she said. "Your father will be up shortly, and I think he will be nonplussed to find the two of you entangled on the living room floor."

I dressed and got ready to leave. I hugged John's mother good-bye and wished her a Merry Christmas as I left. She whispered "I knew something was making him happy" in my ear.

John walked me to my car. "Merry Christmas, Josie," I said. "I love you more than life itself."

John leaned into my car, and kissed me for all the neighbors to see. "Merry Christmas, Mace," he said. "I love you more than you love me. I win."

Part Nine

The year went on like that. Vi evanesced, at least as far I was concerned. I heard little about her. I wanted to hear less than I did.

Spring Break, I had interviews on the Ninth Circuit for an appellate clerkship. I went from Chicago to Reno to San Francisco to San Diego and back. The airline lost my bag. Stupidly, my apartment keys were in my bag. Hurriedly, I had put my jacket - key in pocket - in the bag. So, when John retrieved me from O'Hare, I was homeless.

John's roommates had scattered for Spring Break. So, I moved in.

We spent four days in bed. We put Chips Ahoy by the bed, so we could cure our bad breath with a cookie when we woke up. I sucked Joe with an ice cube in my mouth. And, with beer in my mouth. And, with champagne in my mouth.