An Uncommon Bond

By: Morris Henderson
(Copyright 2017 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

bigmoh@tickiestories.us

PROLOGUE

The wedding in 2015 was not unlike many that occurred in the days and weeks after the Supreme Court’s ruling that same-sex couples should have the same rights and benefits granted to traditional married couples.  The grooms had been partners for over twenty years.  Their loving bond had grown stronger with each passing year.  Their marriage was far more than governmental recognition of their relationship.  It was a way to reaffirm their devotion to each other.

The ceremony was performed in the chambers of a municipal judge in a century-old court house.  Only two long-time friends witnessed the exchange of vows.  The wedding was simple.  For the two grooms, however, it was imbued with consuming joy.  It was the realization of their dream to officially declare their commitment to each other and to rededicate their lives to each other.

The magnitude of their joy was not apparent to the judge or the witnesses.  It was, however, felt intensely by both grooms.   Each felt his own joy, which was not unusual,   but he also sensed in a profound way his partner’s euphoria.  It was far more than mere empathy for another person’s feelings or awareness of the other’s emotions.  It was as though each man’s emotions merged with and magnified his own.  Each man didn’t just know how the other felt.  He literally felt his partner’s joy.

They often shared their thoughts, ideas, and emotions wordlessly in what could only be called a mystical connection.  It could also be described as a sixth sense, mental telepathy, or simply unfathomable magic.  But the inexplicable union of their minds had mysteriously persisted since shortly after they met.  It was almost as if two bodies shared a common brain.

But I’m getting way ahead of the story.  For clarification let’s go back to when they first met, trace their experiences as their friendship matured, and explore the ways in which their psychic bond was both a blessing and a burden.

PART ONE: THE PAIN OF UNCERTAINTY

  Chapter 1:  FIRST ENCOUNTERS

Dothan, Alabama, 1992

Tom Davis, fresh out of college, went to work as sales manager in his father’s business, a construction company that built custom homes.  As a teen, he had worked summers as part of the construction crew, which gave him an in-depth knowledge of home construction and, significantly, he won the respect of every crew member.  It was generally understood that he would take over the business upon his father’s retirement.

Ben Collins, the eldest son of a Davis Construction client, had been working for two years as a lab technician in a pharmaceutical company.  The challenges on the job were significant. It required perseverance and rigorous analysis but he relished the work.  It gave him ample opportunity to apply the skills he had mastered as a chemical engineering major in college.

Ben’s parents had contracted with Davis Construction to build a house.  Tom stopped by the Collins’ home to deliver a set of revised blueprints for approval.  Ben was visiting at the time and answered the door when Tom rang the bell.  Both young men were immediately captivated by the other’s attractiveness – well-proportioned body, handsome face, sparkling eyes, captivating smile.  But, by habit that had been honed to perfection over many years, each concealed his reaction to the other’s good looks.  They had learned long ago, sometimes painfully, that displaying the wrong kind of interest in another man risked exposing yearnings that could trigger hostility and persecution by those poisoned with the homophobia that was prevalent in many semi-rural, Southern communities in the early 1980’s.

Tom said, “Hi.  I’m Tom Davis from Davis Construction.  I have revised blueprints for Mr. and Mrs. Collins to review.  Are they at home?”

“No,” Ben replied.  “I’m Ben Collins, their son.”  They shook hands as Ben continued, “My dad is at the gym and Mom’s at the hairdresser.  They both should be home soon.”  He looked at his wrist watch.  “Or at least I hope so.  We’re supposed to go to my uncle’s birthday party tonight.”

Tom held out a large envelope and said, “Perhaps you could give these to your parents ... and have them call if they have any questions or comments.”

Ben asked, “Would you like to come in and wait?  It shouldn’t be too long.”  His invitation was much more than being polite.  He wanted more time, even if it was brief, to admire the handsome visitor.

Tom would have liked to accept the invitation and spend time with a good-looking young man but had to say, “Thanks but I have another appointment.  I just thought I’d deliver these revised plans on my way.”

“I’ll see that my parents get them,” Ben said and added without any prior thought, “Maybe next time you can stay for a visit.”

Tom noticed the coy smile cast his way.  And the unexpectedly cordial suggestion of “a visit” seemed to have a hidden significance.  He smiled back, and said, “I’d like that.”

There was nothing unusual in either man’s behavior.  Each reacted to the encounter as he had countless times before in similar situations, which was: upon seeing a particularly attractive male, one must conceal his true interest and exercise self-control.  In both young men, that necessary discipline had become an automatic reflex.

As Tom walked to his car and drove away, he was haunted by ‘what-ifs’.  What if he was gay like me?  What if the invitation to stay for a visit was more than just being polite?  What if I could win his affection?  What if that affection could mature into love?   Sadly, he concluded, it was not at all likely.  The encounter was just another instance of meeting someone, wishing he shared your interests, but grudgingly accepting the fact that demographic statistics precluded any hope of satisfying a need.

Ben was more hopeful.  Although there was no evidence that ... (What was his name?  Tom.  Tom Davis.) ... there was no evidence that Tom shared his sexual interests.  It was abundantly clear, however, that he was extraordinarily attractive.  He resolved to engineer another meeting with the man who had captured his admiration.  It was definitely a long shot but another meeting might provide some clues, perhaps a definitive indication of his sexual orientation.

Two days later, Ben called the office of the construction company and asked to speak to Tom Davis.  He worried that Tom would not be in the office on a Friday afternoon but smiled with relief when the female voice said, “Just a moment.  I’ll connect you.” 

Moments later, Ben heard, “Tom Davis.”

“Tom,” Ben began, deliberately avoiding the more formal surname greeting, “This is Ben Collins.  My parents have reviewed the revised blueprints and have only one comment.  I can drop off the blueprints and explain their comment whenever it’s convenient for you.”

“Any time,” Tom replied.  “Whenever you’re in the neighborhood.”

“How about now?” Ben asked.  “I can be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“That’ll be fine.  See you soon.”

Ben arrived at Tom’s office just a few minutes after five.  His plan was right on schedule.   When Tom greeted him, Ben’s heart rate increased slightly.  The reason was simple.  Unlike when Tom stopped by the house wearing a suit jacket, his upper torso was now covered only by a snug-fitting dress shirt and tie that left no doubt about his well-developed chest and slim waist.  Ben struggled to control his reaction to the enticing sight.

Having delivered the blueprints and explained his parents’ comment, Ben proceeded to the second stage of his plan.  He turned as if to leave but he stopped, turned back to face Tom, paused, and said, “Oh.  I almost forgot.  I have tickets to a U2 concert tomorrow night.    Would you like to join me for dinner and an evening with Bono?”

“How the hell did you get tickets?  That concert’s been sold out for months.”

“Pure luck,” Ben replied.  “I bought them from a buddy at work who has to leave town to attend a funeral.”

“That’s tempting,” Tom exclaimed.  “In fact, it’s an offer I can’t refuse.  Yes, I accept your invitation.”  Tom’s quick agreement was based only in part on the fact that he was a U2 fan.  A bigger reason was that it was an opportunity to spend time with someone who had periodically been in his thoughts since a brief but memorable meeting two days ago.  It could possibly provide answers to his “What if” questions that frequently intruded into his mind.

They made arrangements—Ben would pick up Tom at six, which would allow almost two hours to eat before attending the concert.

Ben was elated when he left Tom’s office.  He had paid more than he could easily afford for the tickets but he consoled himself with the thought that it was not an expense.  Rather, it was an investment.  The potential payoff could be a long-term relationship with an extremely handsome man.  Like most investments, there was risk.  Tom may be straight.  In fact, that was likely.  But even so, it would at least eliminate the frustration of wondering and hoping.

Tom had similar thoughts after Ben left.  He welcomed the chance to spend some time with Ben who was articulate, congenial, and undeniably handsome.  The meal, the concert, the company would make for an enjoyable evening.  But he was not as optimistic as Ben about the future.  He wouldn’t allow himself to hope that a relationship or a loving partnership would develop.  No.  He had been disappointed too many times in the past when he gingerly hinted at becoming ‘more than friends’.  The verbal seeds he planted always failed to germinate.  More distressingly, on two occasions, his interest in another man was recognized for what it was.  The result was losing a friend and suffering painful ridicule, hostility, and persecution.  Tom suffered from an acute case of ‘hot stove syndrome’ (once burned, twice shy).  The emotional scars of having his hopes dashed compelled him to be extraordinarily cautious, which, of course, severely diminished any hope of finding—or even attempting to find—a loving partner.

<><><><><> 

The conversation at the upscale restaurant began with typical questions and answers of two people who did not know each other well.  For Tom, it was no more than a thoroughly enjoyable conversation.  For Ben, however, it was both enjoyable AND strategically planned to discover any possibility of a relationship.  One that would become, ideally, a loving partnership.  But, if Ben’s strategy produced information that such a pairing was not possible, he could still consider a more traditional friendship.  The latter option, he recognized, would be a mixed blessing.  It would be good to have a friend but troublesome if that friend constantly aroused a desire that was out of bounds.

Having ordered their meals, Ben launched the first stage of his planned strategy.  “You don’t have a wedding ring, Tom.  You’re not married?”

“No,” came the reply.  On the surface, the question was merely characteristic of casual ‘getting to know each other’ banter.  However the question subliminally stirred in Tom thoughts of his repressed sexual appetites.  But it didn’t sound any alarms in his mind so those thoughts were promptly dismissed.

“Surely a handsome guy like you would have a girlfriend ... or maybe several.”

Suddenly, Tom’s conscious defense mechanisms activated.  He sensed that he would have to redirect the conversation to avoid very sensitive questions about his sexual preferences.  “I’ve had a few ... when I was in college.  But I don’t have time now to get entangled with a girlfriend.”  He had answered Ben’s question and successfully opened the door to a new topic of conversation.  Tom continued, “I’m spending most of my time at my job.  Because I’m Director of Sales, my evenings are often spent talking to clients—existing ones or prospective ones.  Much of the time during the day I have different responsibilities.  I help supervise building projects.  My summer and part-time construction jobs throughout high school and college gave me experience and insight into what’s going well and what might be a problem on a job site.”

Tom’s transition to a different topic was effective.  For the next ten minutes, problems and satisfactions of a job dominated the conversation.

Ben allowed the diversion even though it did not contribute to his goals for the evening.  The first goal was to determine Tom’s attitude toward homosexuality — tolerant and understanding or condemning disapproval.  If it was the former, the second goal would be pursued: was Tom straight or gay?  If both those tests were met, the third goal could be sought — sexual intimacy.  That goal, of course would require a much longer period of time to achieve than an evening’s dinner and a concert.

Ben artfully returned to his earlier quest for information that was important to him.  “I suppose it’s a good thing that neither of us have a wife or family.  That would just be another demand on our time and attention.  Right?”

Tom, still not suspicious of Ben’s motives, replied, “Yeah.  For now.  We’re both at the beginning of our careers.  But at some point, there has to be more than a job in one’s life.”

Tom’s inference that he would like one day to have a partner was clear in wanting a partner but ambiguous as to whether the partner would be male or female.  He decided to respond ambiguously, without specifying the gender of a partner. “Agreed.  When the time is right, I suppose we’ll have to search for a partner.”

The waiter brought the salad, interrupting the momentum of the conversation but giving Ben time to devise his next tactic.

While adding dressing to his salad, Ben said, “It seems to me that you’ll have no problem finding a partner.  You’re handsome, congenial, and have a promising future.”  Without giving Tom a chance to accept or discount the praise, Ben immediately continued, “Lots of guys have a problem finding a soul-mate.  Some are socially awkward or shy.  Others are, to put it kindly, not very handsome.  Still others have bigger problems because their ideal mate is another guy.”  Ben looked at Tom to see his reaction to the oblique reference to homosexuality.  It was best described as a “deer in the headlights” look that persisted for several seconds.  Ben couldn’t translate it to any single cause.  It could have been simple surprise.  If so, it was not significant to Ben’s objective.  Or it could have been an abrupt awakening of Tom’s innermost secret and a stimulation of his fears.  If that were the case, it signaled the potential (but not the certainty) that his dinner companion shared the same needs.

Ben broke the awkward silence.  “I’m sorry if I shocked you with that last statement.  But the truth is, there are a number of gays ... a minority, to be sure, but they exist.  Are you surprised by my matter-of-fact attitude toward homosexuality?  Are you offended by my tolerance of what many think is deviant behavior or immoral?”

“No.  I don’t condemn people for being what they are.”  Tom paused before continuing, “There are a lot of religious extremists who think it’s sinful.  But I disagree.  That’s just one of a number of reasons why I don’t attend church.  Sure, churches do a lot of good but in too many ways they can be hypocritical.”

Ben deliberately paused, pretending to digest what Tom had said, before replying, “I’m delighted to hear you say that, Tom.  It seems we’re alike in that regard ... respect differences in people.  Different is not better or worse, it’s just different.  Not accepting that leads to all kinds of problems ... racism ... homophobia ... conflicts ... even wars.”  

Ben was encouraged by the results of the conversation to this point.  His first goal seemed to have been attained; Tom was not homophobic.  The second goal —determining whether he was straight — would not be as simple to achieve and would take some time.  It would take even longer to achieve the third goal — sexual intimacy.  That goal was highly unlikely but definitely worth the required effort and patience.

Following the concert, Ben desperately wanted to invite Tom to his apartment for a nightcap and then to seduce him into spending the night in prolonged carnal pleasure.  But he realized that would jeopardize any progress toward his ultimate objective, winning Tom’s respect, affection, and love.  For reasons he could not yet identify, he was not confident but was hopeful that Tom would ultimately become the loving, life-long partner that he so craved.

Chapter 2: AN EERIE SIMILARITY

Ben lay awake for a long time unable to fall asleep.  He was reflecting on the evening. The meal was delicious and the U2 concert was spectacular but he gave them little thought.  Instead, he focused on his companion that evening, how well they seemed to get along, and how they progressed from virtual strangers to friendly buddies in the space of a few hours.  Yes, Ben smiled to himself.  There was good reason to be encouraged.  So far at least, events were proceeding in a way consistent with his strategy.  His first goal had been achieved; he determined that Tom was not homophobic.  The remaining steps toward the ultimate goal — a loving partnership — would have to be carefully planned and flawlessly executed.

Across town, Tom also found it difficult to sleep.  Memories of a very pleasant evening were vivid.  He enjoyed the meal and the concert but he suddenly realized the conversation with Ben, surprisingly, was the most enjoyable component of the evening.  That triggered a cascade of thoughts.  ‘I genuinely like Ben.  I admire his good looks and his personality.  I want to see him again.  The thought of living with him as a partner is appealing.’  That last thought inevitably resulted in imagining Ben naked.  His subconscious mind erupted into awareness with a piercing warning message: “WHOA!  Control yourself!  You must conceal your secret or suffer cruel condemnation!”

The battle between his self-control, carefully nurtured over many years, conflicted with his unmet needs for sex and love.  The conflict raged in Tom’s mind for a long time without a victor.  Dominance alternated between lust for sex — with Ben — and fear of the consequences of being known as gay.   The tide of the battle changed, however, as Tom continued to visualize the naked body of his new friend and as his cock engorged.  The inhibitions of his subconscious mind were overwhelmed.  Tom leisurely fondled and began stroking his now rigid erection.  Convinced that solo masturbation was natural and not gay, his primal libido was now in complete control.  The pace and vigor of his stroking increased and, fueled by a continuing mental image of Ben’s naked body, produced a massive orgasm.

Both Ben and Tom spent the next day, Sunday, in routine tasks but thoughts of each other and of the enjoyment of the previous evening were never far from their minds.  Both young men regretted that they had not bothered to get each other’s phone number.  A simple phone call, each reasoned, would be enjoyable but, more significantly, would aid in establishing a more permanent friendship.

On his lunch hour the next day, Ben called the office of Davis Construction and asked to speak to Tom Davis.  “I’m sorry,” came the reply.  “Mr. Davis is not in the office at the moment.  Would you like to leave a message?”

“Yes.  This is Ben Collins.  Please ask Tom Davis to call me this evening.  I can be reached then at 398-8457.”

At five o’clock Ben hurried home from work, anxious to talk to Tom.  He needn’t have rushed.  It was after nine when the return call came.

“Hey, Ben.  I got your message.  What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed Saturday night.  I’d have called you yesterday at home but I didn’t have your number.  I hope you don’t mind a personal call during office hours.”

“No problem, pal.  It’s just that I’m not in the office much.  I spend most days checking on job sites and many evenings talking to clients.  I would have returned your call sooner but today has been pretty hectic.  I hope you’re not upset over the delay in responding.”

Ben was mildly upset but chose not to say so.  “Not at all.  I figured you were busy with work.”

Tom said, “I also enjoyed the concert; it was fantastic.  And talking to you over dinner was particularly enjoyable.”

“I agree, Tom.  We should do it again sometime.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.  Is Saturday okay?  I’m meeting a client on Friday evening.”

“Saturday is fine.  How about coming to my apartment for a home-cooked meal?  You may recall my telling you that I enjoy cooking ... and I’m pretty good at it.  This would be a chance to prove it.” 

Ben gave Tom his address and Tom said, “I’m looking forward to it.  See you then.  What time?”

“About six o’clock.”

Ben smiled broadly when he hung up the phone.   There would be another ‘date’ with Tom  —  the second of (hopefully), many more.  Ben thought it seemed increasingly possible to achieve his second goal: to determine whether Tom was straight.  He had several plans for how to do that.  Which alternate plan he would use and when to use it would depend on the situation.  He was eager to deploy one of his plans but aware that doing it too soon was unwise and potentially disastrous.

Tom also looked forward to seeing Ben again but a lack of courage — or foresight or cunning or ambition or whatever was required — prevented him from hoping for anything more than a friendship.  Consequently, he hadn’t thought of any plan as Ben had done.  This contrasted sharply with his ability to devise tactics for selling his firm’s services and his success in convincing potential clients to sign a contract.  But that was business.  It was puzzling but true that his talents didn’t transfer to matters of the heart.  Uncovering another’s needs and interests and then tailoring a sales pitch to influence a decision and behavior seemed, to Tom, not applicable to personal relationships.

Ben hung up the phone grinning broadly.  He would see Tom again.  Another chance to cultivate a friendship.  He was particularly pleased that dinner in his apartment, without the risk of being overheard or interrupted by a waiter, seemed to offer the best opportunity to determine whether Tom shared his sexual needs.   He knew he would have to be extremely careful in manipulating the conversation.    He must not do or say anything that could be interpreted as the devious strategy that it was.  It had to be perceived as a casual exchange of ideas.

<><><><><> 

Ben opened the door to his apartment and said, “Welcome to my home ... such as it is.”

Tom didn’t reply.  He just stood there, his mouth agape and his eyes roaming all around the apartment’s interior.  Ben became worried.  Was that fear on his friend’s face?  “Tom!  Tom!” Ben said.  “Are you all right?”  There was no reply, which increased Ben’s anxiety significantly.  He stepped in front of his friend, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pleaded, “Tom!  Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t believe it,” Tom intoned mysteriously.

“Can’t believe what, Tom?”

“The room.  The furniture.  The carpet.  The drapes.   Even the pictures on the walls.  EVERYTHING!  EVERYTHING!”

“What about them, Tom?  I don’t understand.”  Receiving no reply, Ben gently pushed and pulled Tom to the nearest easy chair and sat him down.  He kneeled in front of his seated friend as his concern approached panic level.  Something was definitely wrong.  But what?  This was not the person he had got to know.  Now he was not the articulate, genial person that he had been in every previous encounter.  “Tom!” he pleaded. “Talk to me.  Tell me what’s bothering you.  Tell me what I can do to help.  Please!”

Tom shook his head and starred at Ben’s face for what seemed to Ben to be a very long time.  Finally, Tom spoke, haltingly but coherently.  “This room.  Everything about it.  It’s almost the same as my living room.  It’s uncanny, Ben.  Definitely weird.  How could both your place and my place be furnished and decorated like ... well....”  He paused before adding, “It’s like a mirror image of my own place.  Subtle differences, sure, but essentially everything here is like my place.  What does it mean?  What’s the message?”

Finally, Ben understood what had troubled his friend.  He was greatly relieved that it wasn’t a serious mental or physical condition.  But after sweeping away the worry in his mind, Tom’s questions registered in his consciousness.  Why indeed would both rooms be so similar?

Ben’s mind groped for something to say that would explain the similarities and would calm his friend.  And would also calm himself.  There was a long silence before Ben said, “It’s coincidence, Tom, pure and simple.  Sure, it’s unusual — very unusual — but there’s no mystical reason.”

 “But the similarities stand out, Ben.  It’s positively eerie.  It has to be more than coincidence.  What does it mean?”

“I understand.  It’s remarkable; that’s for sure.  But it’s pure coincidence.”

“How can that be, Ben?  There has to be a reason.  There’s got to be a reason.”

Tom had settled down.  His tensed muscles had relaxed.  Puzzlement had replaced fear and confusion in his face.  Perhaps he could be persuaded by an explanation.

Ben’s answer was a long one.  “It’s called apophenia, something I learned about in college.  Big word.  Simple concept.  Our conscious mind is programmed to seek out cause and effect ... or invent it if necessary.  We think that some coincidences are so extraordinary they must have a meaning.  But the reality is that coincidences are a routine part of life.  Our brain INVENTS an explanation ... possibly that some force caused it to happen.  We therefore think it’s some kind of miracle.  The point is this.  Any meaning applied to a coincidence comes from your subconscious mind.  Sometimes your subconscious can’t fabricate a cause-effect relationship.  So you’re left with a mystery: What caused the improbable coincidence?  Nothing ‘caused’ it.  It just happened.  By pure chance.  You’re left wondering:  What does it mean?”  Ben paused.  He sensed that Tom was not accepting the logic of the explanation ... and any further attempts to explain away the coincidence would be futile.  So he switched tactics and said, “Your living room and mine are similar.  That’s unusual but it does not mean some mystical force is behind it.”

Tom thought about what he heard for a short time without accepting its validity.  “Maybe you’re right, Ben.  But I still think it’s totally weird.  It’s got to be more than pure chance.”

Ben chose not to argue the point and took a different tack.  “Obviously, we have the same tastes.  It’s as simple as that, Tom.  So the similarity in the rooms is not all that surprising.  In the short time we’ve known each other it’s become clear that we like the same music.  We have the same sense of humor.  We like or dislike the same foods.  Surely you’ve noticed that.  There are differences between us, to be sure.  Our childhood, our families, our choice of career ... but our tastes are very much alike.  It only makes sense that we would furnish our homes alike.”

“If you say so,” Tom replied unconvincingly.

In spite of Ben’s preference for facts, evidence, and logic, he couldn’t help wondering if some supernatural force might be, after all, at play.  If so, what might it mean for his strategic plan to partner with Tom?  He dismissed the idea that some unknown force had been manifest and criticized himself for even speculating about such a possibility.  It was a silly notion that defied logic.

The meal was delicious and Tom repeatedly complimented Ben on his culinary skill.  The compliments were sincere but were periodic departures from Tom’s persistent, detached, and distracted mood, which was markedly different than the friendly talkativeness that characterized the two young men’s previous times together.  Ben had hoped to pursue his plan — to find out Tom’s sexual preferences — but the atmosphere of the conversation was not right.  It would have to be put aside for another time.  Still, Ben was concerned about what was bothering his guest.  After desert, he felt compelled to ask, “Are you all right, Tom?  You don’t seem to be yourself tonight.”

Tom paused, trying to decide whether to confess what was on his mind.  He took a slow sip of wine to make the delay in answering less noticeable.  Finally, he said, “I apologize, Ben.  I haven’t been very good company.  Let me try to explain.  You think the similarity in our homes is nothing more than random chance.  I disagree.  I think there’s some kind of significance behind it.  When I first saw your apartment, I didn’t know what to think.  But I’ve given it more thought.  And I’m even more convinced that there’s a reason for the similarity.”

“Of course.  The reason is just chance.  The coincidence of our having similar tastes in lots of things.  Food, music, sense of humor, that kind of stuff.”

“I think you’re wrong, Ben.  Sure, we’re alike in many ways.  But that’s just a manifestation of something more fundamental.”

“And what would that be?” Ben asked.

Tom broke eye contact and squirmed nervously.  He was hesitant to answer the question — a simple question but one whose answer had potentially dangerous implications.  The first reason Tom was hesitant to answer Ben’s question was that Ben had been so confident that random events can occur together.  He had claimed that the mind naturally seeks some cause and effect relationship.  Coincidences only appear to be connected or caused by some unknown force.  Ben obviously relied on logic and was not receptive to theories that cannot be substantiated by facts and evidence.  Tom, by contrast, often relied on intuition.  That was one of the differences — among many similarities — between the two new friends.  And it was a gulf that might be difficult or impossible to reconcile.  Tom had similar conversations in the past with other friends who called his beliefs  ‘supernatural poppycock’.  Significantly, the result was damage to the friendship.  He didn’t want that to happen again.  Not now.  Not with Ben.  Protecting the friendship with Ben was a high priority.  Jeopardizing this friendship, perhaps irreparably, must not be allowed.

The second reason for Tom’s hesitancy to press his case for an unknown force causing the similarity in home decor was potentially more volatile and hazardous.  It would require divulging a secret that he had diligently kept hidden from everyone, a secret that, if known to Ben, could very well irreparably damage their friendship.

Tom weighed his options.  He was confronted with a Hobson’s choice.  He could decline to answer Ben’s question, which would leave the issue fermenting in Ben’s mind.  Not acceptable.  Or he could explain his speculative theory.  Not satisfactory because Ben relied exclusively on facts, evidence, and logic — none of which were elements in Tom’s belief in a mysterious cause.  Moreover, it might create a barrier to their friendship the seeds of which had already been sown.

Eventually, Tom chose an escape route from his dilemma.  “I believe there’s meaning to the similarities.  You’ve dismissed that possibility and believe it’s just chance.  Can we agree to disagree, Ben?” he asked.

Ben, who wanted even more than Tom to maintain the friendship and held on to a hope that they might become lovers, yielded to Tom’s compromise.  “Yes,” he grinned.  “I suppose that’ll be one way we’re different.”

Chapter 3: DUELING STRATEGIES

 Both Ben and Tom accepted their differences of opinion in order to avoid an argument and moved on to less controversial topics.  They thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the evening.  At nearly midnight, Tom reluctantly said he would be going home.

Ben regretted that there had been no opportunity to steer the conversation in a direction that would discover Tom’s sexual orientation.  Or was it, he wondered, his own timidity and fear that kept him from probing?  It was agonizing to balance the compelling need to nurture a friendship versus the equally compelling desire for an intimate relationship.  If Tom had no desire for gay sex, any romantic comments or sexual innuendo would be resented and might doom the friendship.  The frustration of not knowing Tom’s sexual orientation and not daring to ask was deeply troubling.

As Tom drove home the remarkable likeness of the two apartments haunted his thoughts.  As he got ready for bed, however, he consciously suppressed worrying about the inexplicable similarity and its uncertain meaning.  When he finally lay in bed, the puzzle of the twin apartments had been set aside.   His thoughts turned to how much he had come to like Ben.  They had known each other for a very short time but they got along extremely well.  He thoroughly enjoyed being with Ben.  It was a friendship that was qualitatively different than any other Tom had experienced in the past.  He asked himself, “Why was that?”  What made it different — and better — than countless other friendships?  Before he could answer those questions, he got distracted.

He customarily slept nude.  It felt liberating to be free of confining clothing.  Even loose fitting pajamas diminished the comfort of completely relaxing.  Moreover, shedding his clothing completely was a physical manifestation of an emotional need: the wish to no longer hide his true nature behind a façade of ‘acceptable’ sexuality.  And inevitably it facilitated fondling his cock.  If he was tired or not in the mood, he would merely cup his flaccid cock and balls in a hand and drift off to sleep.  Frequently, however, his cock responded to the attention and he would masturbate.

In spite of the late hour, Tom was not tired so the routine stimulation of his dick resulted in its quickly becoming rigid.  He threw back the covers and glanced downward.  The moonlight streaming through the window was just enough to cast a soft light on his naked body, which intensified his arousal and the urge to achieve an orgasm.

It was his habit to conjure up a mental image of one or another male — a workman on a job site, an actor in a TV show, a stranger shopping at the Mall, any male who was fit and handsome.  The practice first began when he was eight years old.  At that time, wondering what his playmate’s weenie looked like was simple curiosity and without any sexual overtones.  But it became an erotic stimulant when he passed through puberty.  The visualization was rendered in higher fidelity when he was in high school.  Seeing other students naked after Phys Ed in a communal shower room left clear images that he could call up at night in bed.   The mental images always heightened his pleasure when his orgasm overwhelmed his mind and body.  Because it enhanced the experience, he nearly always accompanied his masturbation with a vision of an attractive, naked male.  The frequency of mentally fabricating an erotic image resulted in his becoming quite skilled ... almost to the point of regarding his mind’s creation as an actual witness to his masturbation.  (The habit and skill of visualizing someone nude had a down side, however.  He had to control his urge to mentally undress real people during the day.  That could produce an embarrassing bulge in his crotch.  Restraining his ability to visually imagine what lay beneath another’s clothing was incorporated into his disciplined concealment of his true sexual appetites.)

On this night, he pictured in his mind a naked Ben, standing at the foot of the bed.  Tom’s hormones went into overdrive.  Wanting to prolong the vision he had created for himself, he pumped his own cock very slowly to delay the climax.  He imagined Ben’s image doing the same.  Tom and his virtual companion remained in sync as the pace of their stroking gradually increased.  The result was astonishing.  Tom found the experience several times more erotic and the orgasm several times more copious and gratifying.

When he recovered, he puzzled over why his orgasm had been so intense.  Could it have been that his mind was focused on an image of a naked Ben?  Why would that have such a powerful effect on his arousal and on the intensity of his orgasm?  He had mentally undressed multiple men before without such an overwhelming effect.  After considerable thought he theorized that the most likely cause was his strong liking for his new friend.

It was the first time he drew such a clear distinction between raw sexual gratification of primal urges and a second element—emotional bonding with another person.  The latter significantly amplified the satisfaction of sex.  That epiphany caused a fundamental recasting of his concept of what it means to be gay.  The goal was no longer mere physical sex with another male.  The new goal was a permanent, devoted relationship founded on mutual affection.   Sexual gratification, as pleasant as it was, was secondary to loving and being loved by another man.

Prior to having those thoughts, he had sometimes wished for a relationship with another man.  But he rarely if ever considered it to be possible.  The fear of persecution for being sexually “deviant” had driven him so deep in the closet that any thought, however fanciful, of having an intimate, loving relationship with a man was instantly, subconsciously, inevitably labeled a pipe-dream never to be realized.  Now, however, Tom allowed himself to wish that he and Ben might elevate their friendship to another level.  Provided, of course, that his friend was gay, which, realistically, was very improbable.   But definitely worth finding out.  Before falling asleep, Tom resolved to use his interpersonal skills to find out.  They had served him well at work — sensing clients’ needs, hesitations, agreement or disagreement, and mood.  Perhaps they would also serve him well in detecting Ben’s interests in a relationship.

<><><><><> 

It was perfect weather on the beach: clear sky, moderately warm, gentle breeze.  Tom and Ben had come to enjoy the Gulf of Mexico and, more importantly, each other’s company. 

Each of the young men, fearing his dick’s reaction upon seeing his good friend nearly nude, had worn his swim trunks in place of underwear beneath his Bermuda shorts.  When they took off their tee shirts, exposing their bare upper bodies, the effect was predictable.  Each of them became aroused by the sight of a bared and very appealing torso.  Their chests were masculine and symbolized virility.  Ben’s was moderately hairy; Tom’s was sculpted and muscular—a result of working construction throughout high school and college.  When they removed their sandals and Bermuda shorts neither young man allowed himself more than a quick glance at the bulge in the fabric of his friend’s swim trunks.  Any prolonged inspection of the other’s nearly bare body would surely have caused his own penis to embarrassingly engorge.  Still, each had to struggle to conceal the perceptible growth of the bulge in his crotch.

Each young man hoped there would be an opportunity to execute his plan for determining his friend’s sexuality.  Neither was aware that his friend shared the identical goal. 

The two plans differed in an important way.  Ben would steer the conversation with comments and questions but he had not generated any specific questions in advance.  His execution of his plan (vague as it was) would depend on the situation and, ultimately, on Tom’s response.  It was a loose, flexible strategy.  And one with considerable risk.  If Tom was not gay, he might be offended and possibly break off the friendship.  But Ben reasoned that the situation was very much like one Tom had mentioned in a previous conversation.  Ben had asked if Tom’s job of selling his company’s services was difficult.  Tom replied, “It sometimes is.  I’m not always successful in winning over a prospective customer.  But the measure of a man is not how many victories he has but in whether he gets up after a defeat and tries again.  When I fail, I don’t cry and moan.  It’s not the end of the world.  I get up and try again.”   Ben reflected on what Tom had said and decided that even if he stumbled in following his plan and alienated Tom it would not be the end of the world.  There would be other opportunities to pursue a partnership of a like-minded guy.

Tom’s plan, however, was far more focused.  Like Ben, he would use comments and questions to steer the conversation.  But unlike Ben, he had mentally developed an arsenal of questions and comments.  Extemporaneous conversation was too unpredictable and therefore ineffective.  Moreover, Tom had mastered a skill that would virtually guarantee achieving his objective.  He would meticulously observe momentary facial expressions called microexpressions that were very subtle, split-second short, and completely involuntary.  They often contradict a consciously formed, socially and politically correct spoken reply.  Significantly, they would more accurately than anything he said reveal Ben’s true feelings.  Tom could, for example, point out a muscular man and say, “Wow, look at that guy.”   He would observe how Ben reacted — for only the briefest moment.  The immediate and lightening-fast facial expression would reveal genuine feelings and not be hidden behind a conscious façade of socially acceptable behavior. 

A lot depended on his skill to spot and correctly interpret barely detectible facial expressions.  But he had been practicing since learning about microexpressions in a college psychology class.  He often used his skill when dealing with clients.  It was valuable to know a client’s reaction that frequently differed from the spoken response.  But he very rarely used his skill in routine social interactions because, first, it demanded intense concentration and, second, it was seldom important to be so exacting.  But the current situation was quite different. The chance — however small — of achieving a loving relationship with Ben was worth the effort.  Sensing Ben’s reaction to comments and questions by ‘reading’ his microexpressions was extremely important.  It could reveal feelings that would not ordinarily be expressed.  Yes, it was definitely worth the effort. 

They had been lounging on the beach under the shade of an umbrella for only a short time when Tom set his plan in motion.  He would first establish what he called a “base-line” by employing bland comments and innocuous questions followed by mildly controversial ones.  He would take careful note of Ben’s immediate — almost imperceptible — reaction, which would indicate any feelings of stress, fear, or confusion.  Within a few minutes, Tom had observed enough to be confident about interpreting subsequent reactions.  The time was right to implement his strategy.

Ben, of course, had a similar objective: to ascertain his friend’s sexual preference.  But his strategy was not fortified with the perceptive skill that Tom had developed nor did he have a pre-planned set of possible remarks.  Consequently, he was overly cautious in beginning to lead the conversation.  While Ben was fearful of losing a friend, Tom had no such handicap because he could, if necessary, abandon his tactics long before Ben was even remotely aware consciously that Tom was in complete control of the conversation and was expertly steering the conversation toward potentially sensitive attitudes and appetites.

In less than ten minutes of directing the conversation and gauging Ben’s responses, Tom was almost positive that his friend was, like him, a closeted gay.  Tom then made a tactical error by confronting Ben with “You’re gay, aren’t you?”

Ben reacted with a firm “NO!”  The denial originated not in his rational, conscious thinking.  Rather, it sprang from a deeply ingrained and habitual imperative not to let anyone know his secret yearnings.  But a microexpression preceded the outburst, which confirmed to Tom that Ben was gay like him.

Tom chastised himself for the thoughtlessness of his confrontation and his mind raced to repair the damage.  “I apologize, Ben, for being inconsiderate.  You must have heard my question as a challenge.  That’s the last thing I wanted.”  He paused momentarily to decide whether to explain his bluntness.  “I have to apologize for something else, Ben.  I used a tactic on you that I use on my clients.  After a lot of study and practice, I’ve learned how to tell what people are really thinking ... which is often not what they would ever admit.  Using that skill, I was able to determine not only that you’re gay but that you’re deep in the closet.  JUST LIKE ME!”

Ben was speechless while he stared at Tom and tried to digest what he had heard.  Eventually, he sputtered, “You mean...?   Are you....?  Really?”

“Yes, Ben.  I’m gay.  You’re the only person in the world who knows that.  What’s more, I’m attracted to you.  I’ve never met another guy who I felt such affection for.  I just hope that you can learn to like me as much as I like you.”

“I like you now, Tom.  I was attracted to you when I met you at your parents’ house.  I became fond of you when we had dinner and attended the concert.”

Tom laughed.  “So we’re a matched pair.  What more could we want?”

Ben joined in the laughter and said, “I had no idea that you were gay.  But you found out about me.  Just how did you do that?

Tom explained microexpressions and concluded with a promise, “I will never use that skill with you again.  It seems almost like an invasion of someone’s privacy ... or at a minimum, it’s manipulative.  Which is okay in business … at least some of the time … if it provides a better service or product to the buyer.  But it’s not something one should do between good friends who respect and trust each other.”

After a short pause, Ben said, “I’d like to lean how to read microexpressions.  Will you teach me?  Help me practice?”

“If you like,” Tom replied.  “But it will take a lot of practice.  It may take several weeks.”

Midway through the first lesson as they relaxed on the beach, Ben said, “I guess I’ll have to be on guard because you will always know my true feelings.’

“First of all, Ben, I promised I would never again use my skill with you.  But, of course, you will be able to do the same with me.  So can we agree never to use our skill with each other?”

“Agreed” Ben replied, “Let’s also promise to always be completely honest with each other.  Then there would be no need to probe into our subconscious minds.”

“I like your idea,” Tom enthused.  “Starting right now we’ll be completely open and honest with each other.”

“Yes,” Ben laughed.

“Great!  So here’s my first dose of total honesty.  It’s in the form of a suggestion.  We’d planned to spend the whole day on the beach.  Let’s go back home instead.  And spend the rest of the day indulging in sexual pleasures.  It’s something both of us want.”

Ben broke out into a broad grin and exclaimed, “Let’s do it!  Your place or mine?”

“Doesn’t matter, does it?  They’re identical.  Remember?”

PART TWO: PARADISE FOUND

Chapter 4: OVERWHELMING DELIGHT

On the two-hour drive from the Gulf Coast in Florida to Dothan, Alabama where Tom and Ben lived, the two young men began their conversation by expressing their elation in having learned of each other’s sexual preference.  That soon morphed into a cathartic confessional.  They shared similar stories of confusion at the onset of puberty, guilt and shame over their private thoughts, frustration of trying valiantly but unsuccessfully to expunge their interest in other boys, eventual recognition of their fundamental nature, resignation to but not acceptance of the crucial need to keep their interests and needs a secret, and about the agony and frustration of being unable to find ... or even to seek ... a companion.  Both of them welcomed the freedom to talk openly.  They agreed that sharing their experiences, emotions, and frustrations was liberating. 

“But that’s all behind us now,” Tom said.  “We’re now free to satisfy our needs ... provided, of course, that we do so discretely.  It’s still a cruel jungle of hatred and persecution out there.” 

“Indeed it is,” Ben mused.  “Especially here in the Deep South.  Persecution of blacks may be muted from the blatant attitudes and practices of the past but bigotry toward homosexuals remains out in the open.  And it’s very powerful.  It’s tolerated and even encouraged by religious leaders, especially the evangelical clergy.”

Ben paused and mused, “Sad but true.”  Then, reflecting on a possible misinterpretation of his comment, he added, “I’m not sad that we have to be careful.  What’s important is that we can be together ... as friends ... and for occasional sex.  That part is the realization of a dream.  What I meant was that it’s sad that society thinks homosexuality is a sickness or sinful.  It’s nineteen ninety two, for heaven’s sake.  Don’t you think people would have learned by now to be more understanding and tolerant?”

“I know what you meant, Ben.  And I agree with you.”  A long, silence ensued before Tom continued, “What do you suppose people will say if we decide to live together?”

“Geez,” Ben exclaimed.  “I hadn’t even thought that we might ... I mean ... live together.”

“Hey!  It’s a possibility.  I didn’t mean to blind-side you or put you on the spot.  But we agreed that we would be completely open and honest with each other.  No secrets.  No hiding our feelings or opinions.  I was just expressing an idea ... an idea that, to me, is very appealing.  I like you, Ben.  I think we could get along very well together.”

“I like you, too, Tom.  It’s just that ... well ... you should know if you haven’t recognized it already that I’m the kind of guy who likes to think things through very thoroughly.  Especially before making an important decision.  I recognize that’s desirable in some situations but it can be a problem in others.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not opposed to living together.  In fact, I would welcome it.  It’s just that ... forgive me ...  here’s my piece of honesty.  I need some time to consider all the consequences.”

“I understand, Ben.  And I agree that perhaps we should wait a while to be sure we’re doing the right thing.  But in the meantime, I hope you’re willing to get together from time to time to enjoy a little sex.”

“No!” Ben said firmly.  Tom was taken aback by his friend’s response.  That is, until Ben grinned broadly and clarified his comment.  “Not ‘a little’ sex.  I want ‘a lot’ of sex.”

Both young men laughed heartily.

<><><><><> 

It was early evening when the two virgins entered Ben’s apartment.  Their anticipation of sexual pleasure, which had been a constant undercurrent in their minds during the drive home, became overwhelming.  The long-sought experience was at hand and powerfully dominated their thoughts.  Any uncertainty about venturing into unfamiliar territory was completely overpowered.  Any vague fear of not fully knowing what to do and how to do it was reduced to utter insignificance.  Each was driven by a solitary imperative: to fulfill a long-standing dream of having man-to-man sex ... to make empty fantasies a reality.

The thoughts, emotions, and eager anticipation the young men experienced caused a physical expression — both were rapidly developing an erection as they walked down the hall to the bedroom.  Inside the bedroom, they seized each other in a tight embrace that lasted only a few moments before they began grinding their crotches together, which, of course, amped up the lust that was dictating their every thought and action.  As one, they locked their mouths together and were soon using their tongues in a thrust and parry duel, accompanied by moans of euphoric delight.  Without breaking their embrace, they fell onto the bed where they continued hugging, kissing, and grinding their now fully erect and exceptionally hard cocks together.

Tom broke the silence that had persisted since entering the apartment.  “Let’s do this right, Ben.  Let’s get naked.”

Both Tom and Ben stripped off their clothing in record time and then just stood there for several moments admiring the other’s body ... including, of course, the rigid rods that sprouted from thick bushes of pubic hair.  Each of them would have liked to visually feast on what stood before him for several more minutes but the strong desire for physical skin-to-skin contact brought them once more into a tight embrace. But now, flesh against flesh, the erotic sensations were of epic proportions.  Their cocks were in contact and the sensation riveted their complete focus on the overwhelming eroticism.  Tom wanted even more.  He dropped his hands to the checks of Ben’s ass and pulled his friend’s pelvis into a firmer contact between their throbbing cocks.  Both virgins’ minds were lost in a tsunami of carnal ecstasy.

Eventually — both had lost track of time due to the enormity of erotic sensations — they collapsed onto the bed where both deliriously happy young men explored each other’s body with mouth, tongue, and hands. 

Ben, subconsciously controlled by his tendency to ‘think before acting’ avoided touching Tom’s dick although he very much wanted to do so.  Tom had no such inhibitions.  His hand found its target, seized it, and squeezed.  Ben inhaled sharply at the first contact and then moaned loudly.  He soon followed Tom’s lead and began to fondle his partner’s extremely hard cock.

Tom, the more venturesome and spontaneous of the two, soon repositioned himself and took Ben’s cock into his mouth.  Ben screamed.  Tom correctly interpreted the scream not as an indication of fright or pain but as a sign of intense pleasure.  He continued orally stroking Ben’s quivering rod.  The stimulation put Ben into orbit.  He instinctively bucked his hips.  But not for long.  His cock erupted in several blasts of hot cum accompanied by his screams of intense, almost debilitating pleasure that radiated throughout his body.  He then went limp, unable to move, overwhelmed by the sensations in his cock where Tom continued to suckle the remaining cream from the still-rigid shaft.

In time, Ben’s cock softened.  His mind cleared.  Tom lay beside him.  “I’m sorry, Tom.  I should have warned you that I was about to shoot.”

“Not to worry, Ben.  I gladly accepted your tasty offering.”

They hugged and began to kiss.  Ben quickly withdrew with a slight frown. 

“What’s wrong, Ben?”

“Sorry.  Just got a funny taste in my mouth.”

“That was your cum, silly.  I saved some to share with you.”

“Cum?  What’s that?”

It’s another name for semen.”

“Tastes kinda weird,” Ben said.

“You’ve never tasted your own cum?” Tom asked incredulously.

“No.  I just clean it up and discard it.”

“I clean up my cum, too.  But then I swallow it.  I hafta tell you ‘tho, since you’ve never done it, it’s an acquired taste.”  Tom paused momentarily before asking, “Are you going to return the favor?”

Ben was briefly puzzled but his friend’s meaning soon became clear.  He re-positioned himself so as to take Tom’s cock into his mouth.  He was surprised when he saw it.  “You’ve gone soft, Tom.”

“The little fella must feel ignored.  Just give him some attention.”

Ben eagerly took the flaccid penis into his mouth and was pleased to feel it regain its rigidity.  Ben replicated Tom’s action and prepared to accept his first mouthful of another man’s cum.  No long after, as Ben simultaneously relished the feel of orally stroking Tom’s cock, the intensity of his enjoyment suddenly spiked.  A totally new sensation engulfed him.  It was a surge of erotic stimulation almost like an impending orgasm.  But that couldn’t be.  Only moments ago he had given up a massive load of cum in response to the stimulation of Tom’s warm, moist mouth.  Moreover, ejaculation was highly improbable because his cock was completely limp.  As Ben puzzled over the strange new feeling he heard Tom call out, “I gotta shoot, Ben.”

Ignoring the warning, Ben prepared to accept his friend’s cum.  He was not prepared, however, for the multiple volleys of creamy fluid that exploded against the back of his throat.

The two former virgins cuddled tightly together, both in a euphoric state of bliss.  Both agreed that they had never been happier.  Their arms and legs were still entwined when they awoke in the morning.  They broke the embrace only to take care of an urgent need to empty their bladders ... together, of course.  Then they showered together, lovingly washing each other with exceptional attention and care to pubic appendages.  Not surprisingly, their aroused and rigid cocks demanded attention.  They exchanged cum again as hot water cascaded over their bodies.

After drying each other off, they returned to cuddle in bed.  After several minutes of bliss, Ben yielded to something that had him curious.  “Tom, I have to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Last night and again this morning in the shower I had a strange feeling come over me.”

Tom interrupted, “Of course!  Cumming when having sex is quite different than when you jerk yourself off.”

“I know that,” Ben replied impatiently.  “But last night and again this morning, I got a ... I don’t know how to describe it ... I got a surge of a wonderful feeling just before you ejaculated.  It wasn’t at all like the feeling when I have an orgasm.  But it was kinda similar and almost as pleasant.  So here’s my question.  Did you have the same feeling before my orgasm?’

Tom paused, trying to understand what he had heard.  “No.  I enjoyed having your cock in my mouth.  I enjoyed getting a mouthful of cum.  But I didn’t experience any ... what did you call it? ... a surge of feeling.”

Ben experienced the same mysterious feeling each time they had oral sex in the following days — always just before Tom’s orgasm.  But, try as he may, was never able to form a logical explanation.

Chapter 5: FROM LUST TO LOVE

For three weeks, the budding lovers maintained telephone contact through the week but it was not always possible because Tom often had appointments during the evening hours when his clients were available to discuss plans or progress on their home’s construction.  Although they did not see each other on a daily basis, each frequently had the other in his thoughts, recalling the first glorious weekend together and impatiently anticipating the next weekend with its sexual marathon.  On weekends, either at Ben’s apartment or Tom’s, they enjoyed each other’s company in between long periods in bed and, of course, the pleasures of the flesh.

Another month passed during which Ben would stay at Tom’s home through the week or Tom would stay at Ben’s place.  This, of course, significantly increased the opportunities for sexual union, opportunities that were enjoyed to the fullest.

It was during that month that their bedroom activities gradually took on a qualitatively different tone.  Whereas their early sexual coupling was ruled primarily by the physical gratification of lustful urges, their attitudes evolved into wanting above all to satisfy their partner.  It might be compared to the contrast of a famished person gulping down food and another person expending special effort to prepare a gourmet meal for a visitor — ravenous consumption versus the joy of pleasing another.  It could easily be argued that their concern for making each other happy was a hallmark of their emerging love.

Immediately after one particularly intense period of sexual exploration and gratification, Tom said, “Remember you said once that you had a strange feeling just before I came?”

“Yes, Ben replied.

“Do you still get that feeling?”

“Yes.”

“Well, guess what.  I just got a strange feeling just before you filled my mouth with your cum.  Don’t ask me to describe it.  All I can say is that it was pleasant.  What does it mean, Ben?”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Tom.  Remember when you first saw my apartment and wondered – no, you worried – that there had to be a reason why it was so similar to your place.  Then, I said it was pure coincidence.  You didn’t accept that.  You felt there had to be some meaning to the similarities.  Now you’re asking for a meaning to what you felt during sex.  Can’t you just accept it as a natural experience?”

“No.  I’d really like to know the reason I felt that way … why both of us feel that way just before the other comes.”

“A suggestion, Tom.  Just enjoy it and don’t fret about what causes it.”

Neither Tom nor Ben discussed the mysterious wave of sensation that exactly corresponded to his partner’s impending orgasm.  But both of them wondered why it happened.  They would not have a solution to the puzzle for quite some time.

<><><><><> 

It was seven in the evening on a Tuesday.  Tom arrived at Ben’s apartment hungry.  They kissed.  Ben, expecting to take Tom to bed right away was moments away from an erection.  Their kisses became more passionate and their embrace tighter.  Tom felt the tell-tale bulge in his friend’s crotch.  He was also hungry for sex but said instead, “I pledged to be honest with you.  I’m starved.  I haven’t eaten all day.  I hope it won’t take long to fix dinner.”

“And I promised to be honest with you.  I’m horny as hell but we can eat first,” Ben said, but, with a grin, added, “Dessert will be served later in the bedroom.”

Having rushed through dinner, the two lovers made their way to the bedroom for ‘dessert’. Following an extended period of serious love-making, they settled down with arms and legs intertwined.  After a short period of cuddling, Tom said, “Remember your telling me about a strange feeling.  I think I had the same feeling.”

“Just before I climaxed?” Ben asked.

“Matter of fact, yes.  It was like you described.  Like nothing else I’ve ever felt but extremely pleasant.  What do you think it means?”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Tom.  It may be just a coincidence.   It doesn’t have to have a meaning.”

“Maybe not a meaning but it does have to have an explanation,” Tom argued.

“Sure.  Cause and effect.  Right?  We’ve both experienced something new and unusual.  Most probably, something caused that.  We don’t know what it is.  But this is for sure.  We can enjoy the feeling and not obsess over what caused it.”

<><><><><> 

It was just after dawn one Sunday morning.  Tom and Ben were cuddling very contentedly together after having given each other a particularly satisfying orgasm.  Ben whispered almost imperceptibly into Tom’s ear, “I’ve never been so happy.  I love you.”

“I feel the same way, Ben,” Tom replied.  “The happy part.  And the love part.”

They tightened their embrace momentarily and sank back into blissful reverie.  Several minutes passed before Tom asked a question he had been considering for some time.  “Ben.  Do you remember our drive home from the beach?  I mentioned living together and you said you’d have to think about it?  Have you?”

“I have.  It will present some difficulties but I do want to live with you.  FOREVER!”

“Difficulties?”

“A few.  Some are easily solved ... like merging our furniture and belongings.  Some are not so easily solved ... we both have leases with several months left.  Okay, we might be able to get out of a lease contract ... or we can simply pay the rent until the lease expires.  Other problems are not so easily solved.  Do we tell our families that we’re gay?  They know we’re good friends and we spend a lot of time together.  But being just friends is one thing.  Being homosexual partners is quite another.  What will be their reaction?  Will they be disappointed or even heartbroken?  If they are upset or angry, how long will it take to re-establish something like a normal relationship?  If we don’t tell them we’re gay but that we just want to save money by living together as room mates, will they suspect we’re gay anyway?  Even if they don’t, it won’t eliminate their expectation that we will get married and raise their grandkids.  Yes, I want to live with you ... to love you ... for as long as possible.  But we have to recognize that our families may be shocked, disappointed, or even angry over what we are.  And, of course, there’s how other people will treat us.  We’re not freaks or sinners but other people will treat us that way.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to talk yourself out of it, Ben.”

“Not at all!  I’ve said I want to live with you as your lover and I meant it.  I’m just pointing out some of the consequences that we’ll have to cope with.  And let me add, just for emphasis, we may face difficulties but we CAN and we WILL cope with whatever comes up.  As far as I’m concerned, being your lover will definitely be worth the effort.”

“I’ve thought about all of the questions and concerns you mentioned.  And I assure you that we can and will cope with any difficulties we face.”

Ben grinned and said, “So we’ll live together and love each other forever.”

“Then it’s settled,” Tom gushed.  “You’ve made me very happy.”

Chapter 6: MERGING OF MINDS

The two lovers soon made a down payment on a house, located on two wooded acres about two miles out of town which afforded a degree of privacy.  It had three bedrooms, a requirement they had agreed upon ... not because they would sleep in separate bedrooms but for ‘appearances.’  The third bedroom would be a guest room even though they didn’t anticipate any out-of-town guests.  Should family or friends visit, it would be important that Ben and Tom each have his own private bedroom.  The house required a lot of modernizing but Tom’s experience in home construction was most helpful.  Ben, with Tom’s tutoring, helped with much of the labor.

Tom was connecting a new faucet on a kitchen sink.  He was lying on his back with his head and arms inserted into the cabinet below the sink when he realized he did not have his pipe wrench.  “Damn!” he though to himself.  “I’ll have to go get it.”  Just as he extracted himself from his awkward position under the sink, he saw Ben walk into the kitchen.

“Here’s the wrench you wanted.” Ben said.

Tom was stunned.  “How did you know I needed a wrench?”

Ben didn’t quite know how to reply.  Finally, he said.  “I don’t know,” and then paused, trying to recall what made him drop what he was doing and take the wrench to Tom.  “I really don’t know,” he mumbled.  “It was just a thought that popped into my head.  I don’t know why.  I can’t explain it.  But ... somehow ... some way ... I knew you needed it and I should take it to you.”

Tom sat up.  “There must be a logical explanation.”  He paused before continuing, “Did you see the wrench and figure that I might need it?  So you brought it to me just in case?”

“No.  I was busy prepping the dining room for painting.  I was putting masking tape around the window frame.  I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular ... and certainly not about what you were doing in the kitchen.  But then ... suddenly ... a totally unrelated thought entered my head: you needed a wrench.  So I stopped what I was doing, got the wrench, and brought it to you.”

“You’re sure you weren’t thinking of me and that I would be using a wrench?  Did you then recall seeing the wrench in my tool box?  So you brought it to me?”

“No, Tom.  Like I said.  I was taping the window frame.  And not thinking of what you were doing.  Until ... suddenly ... I knew ... somehow ... you needed a wrench.”

Tom just shook his head and mumbled, “Weird!”

That evening, over dinner, with the day’s work completed. Tom and Ben revisited the strange occurrence earlier in the day.  Struggling to find a logical explanation, they proposed and rejected a few theories.  Recognition of what would become a recurring and perplexing mystery gave the two lovers reason to marvel.  Eventually, they resigned themselves to being unable to explain what happened and turned their attention to more important things.  Like going to bed early.  But not to sleep.  Rather, to express with words and actions the depth of their love for each other. 

Over the next several weeks, similar inexplicable events occurred.

On a hot and humid evening Tom was at the dining room table pouring over architectural drawings and trying to figure out how best to modify the floor plan of the house to accommodate a few changes the customer wanted.  Having solved the challenge of meeting the customer’s requests and at minimal cost, he sat back and decided that he deserved a reward for his labor.  A cold beer would hit the spot.  He carefully rolled up the drawings and inserted them into a cardboard tube.

Ben walked in and said, “Here’s the cold beer you wanted.”  Tom looked up and his expression was frozen into an incomprehensible stare.  “What’s wrong, Tom?  I thought you wanted a beer.”

Tom, uncharacteristically barked, “How the hell did you know that?”

Ben was momentarily speechless. “I don’t know.  I just knew.  So I brought it to you.”

The baffling instances were more common when the two young men made love.  For example, each invariably knew precisely when his partner was on the brink of ejaculation.  The mysterious but very pleasant feeling they experienced signaled that their partner was moments away from an orgasm.  They would then prolong the love-making by interrupting active oral stimulation in a procedure they would later learn was called ‘edging.’  They had discussed the phenomenon but couldn’t identify a logical reason for the cue that signaled impending orgasm.  Each did, however, use the knowledge to maximize his partner’s pleasure. 

<><><><><> 

As time went by, the bond between the two lovers strengthened.  And the melding of their minds was more and more frequently manifest.  Both Ben and Tom were recurrently amazed at the periodic and mysterious connections in their thoughts.  But try as they may, they could not explain their experience.  Tom suggested, for example, that knowing each other’s thoughts might be a result of the depth of their love for each other.  If so, they reasoned, straight couples who intensely loved each other would experience the same phenomenon.  Neither young man, however, had ever heard of traditional couples experiencing anything that remotely resembled their own experiences.  And they felt they could not ask loving couples in a traditional man/woman relationship about any similar incidents in their lives together.  To do so, they feared, would raise suspicions about their own relationship which was at the time considered sick and/or sinful.

Eventually, Tom and Ben agreed that the unique mental bond between them defied logical explanation.  They accepted and enjoyed what they came to call their ‘special gift’.  It became one more way in which their bond was an integral part of their life together.

But the mental union they had come to enjoy turned out to be a mixed blessing.  Neither Ben nor Tom could reliably keep a secret — for example, a birthday or Christmas present he planned to give to his lover.  The impossibility of keeping a secret was the reason that Ben said, as they were cuddling after a particularly satisfying period of sex, “You realize, Tom, that our ability to sense each other’s thoughts has a down-side.”

“And that would be?” Tom responded.

“Neither of us can be unfaithful.  If we’re even tempted to cheat on each other, it won’t be a secret for very long.”

“It’ll never happen!” Tom said forcefully.  “I’m surprised you even considered the possibility.”

“Sorry, Tom.  I was joking.  If I have my way, we’ll be partners forever.”

PART THREE: UNFORESEEN CRISIS

Chapter 7: ILLNESS CLOAKED IN MYSTERY

Dothan, Alabama, 1995

Ben and Tom had been living together for three years.  Inside their home, they were a devoted, loving couple, thoroughly dedicated to making every moment together one of joy.  During weekdays at work, they played the role of a single heterosexual young man who seemed obsessed with achieving career success without the distraction of seeking and courting a potential wife.  The demands of living two lives, was challenging and at times exhausting.  But they both agreed that it was worth the effort because, first of all, they enjoyed extraordinarily satisfying lives when in the privacy of their home.  Secondly, the consequences of being known as ‘queer’ would border on the catastrophic.

Tom had been uncharacteristically short of breath for several days and had recently developed a hacking cough.  Both his father and Ben urged him to see a doctor but their pleas were met with “It’s just a cold.  It’ll clear up.  Besides, I have a busy schedule at work.”  He grew impatient with his father’s nagging.  “I’m not a little boy anymore, Dad!” he would snarl.  He was a little more docile with Ben but still made it clear that he resented the ‘constant harassing’ about his health.  His stubborn defiance of others’ suggestions that he should get medical attention crumbled when, having canceled a late afternoon appointment, he left work to drive home.  A particularly intense coughing spell caused him to pull off the road.  He could hardly breathe between coughs.  Ten minutes later he began to seriously worry because he had to fight to breathe.  Five minutes after that the coughing subsided but his panic had not.  He drove straight to Noland Hospital’s Emergency Room.  He was soon admitted to the Hospital.

As part of the admission procedure, he was asked who should be contacted.  Tom supplied Ben’s name and phone number at work.  “Is he family?” the nurse asked.

Tom wanted to say ‘Yes’ but knew that would only require an explanation of the relationship, which, of course, would create problems.  “No,” he replied.  He’s my room mate and would worry if I’m not home for dinner.  If you want a family member, my father can be reached at work.  The number is 327-1932.”  The admissions clerk called Tom’s father first but had to leave a message.  She then called Ben.  After gaining permission from his supervisor, Ben immediately left work and drove to the hospital.

“Can you tell me the room number for Tom Davis?” Ben asked the receptionist at the main entrance to the hospital.

She shuffled through some papers on her desk, pulled out one, read it, and asked. “Are you a member of his family?” she asked. 

“No, a friend,” Ben replied.

“I’m sorry, sir.  Tom Davis is in isolation.  Only immediate family is permitted to visit him.”

Ben was distressed by the news.  Isolation meant a serious infection, which meant that his lover was far sicker than he thought.  “Why?” he blurted out.  “Why is he in isolation?”

“I’m sorry, sir.  Even if I knew, I would not be allowed to tell you.”

Ben’s fury escalated.  “Who the hell can tell me?” Ben shouted.

Ben’s violent reaction alarmed the receptionist.  She picked up the phone and dialed a number.  After a pause (during which Ben became even more distraught) the receptionist said, “Code seven at reception,” and hung up.

The young woman at the reception desk, still intimidated and frightened, mustered her composure and said, “Please have a seat in the lobby.  Someone will be here soon to talk to you.”

Ben took her comment to mean that some official with authority to comment on a patient’s condition would soon arrive.  He sat in a chair in the lobby and waited.  His concern for his lover’s health only increased.

A security guard soon arrived.  He looked to be in his forties and was clearly muscular under his uniform.  The receptionist said nothing ... just nodded in Ben’s direction.  The guard approached Ben and said, “You got a problem, son?” the guard said with a tone that was tinged with unfriendly assertiveness.

A constellation of emotions merged in Ben’s mind.  His love for Tom — who was clearly very ill — and his concern over his health was paramount.  The frustration of being denied the opportunity to visit Tom robbed him of any rational thought.  Dark fears of Tom’s potentially lethal illness left him frantically — although subconsciously — groping for some way he could alter the dreadful circumstances.  All of these psychic forces in Ben’s mind constituted a bomb that needed only a spark to make it explode.  That spark was the guard’s assertive and somewhat condescending ‘You got a problem, son?’

Ben stood and growled, “Damn right I do!  My best friend is captive in your hospital and I’m not allowed to visit him.  Some bureaucratic rule about isolation, immediate family, and who knows what other bull shit.”

“Settle down, son,” the guard cooed.

Ben snapped back, “I’m not your son!  And I’m not a little boy!  You can call me Mister or Sir or Ben.  But don’t belittle me by calling me ‘son’.”

The guard, belatedly, adopted a friendlier tone.  “Let’s sit down and discuss the situation, Sir.”  They sat.  “I understand your friend is in isolation.  I’m sure the doctor has good reason for issuing that order.  Perhaps it’s for your friend’s protection again being exposed to bacteria that would make his condition worse than it is.  Or maybe it’s to protect the nursing and medical staff from being infected with whatever illness your friend has.  Whatever the reason, isolation is the professional judgment of the medical staff.  Your friend, you, anyone else who may be adversely affected must be considered in your friend’s care and treatment.  Can you see the possible reasons for isolation and for restricting visitors?”

Tom spent a few moments digesting what he had heard.  “I suppose,” he replied.  “But how can I find out what the illness is?  And when he will recover?”

“Ah, that’s another problem, Sir.  One of the things that we must do is to protect the privacy of patients.  Let me use an extreme example.  Suppose a married woman is treated here for Syphilis, Gonorrhea, or some other sexually transmitted disease.  Suppose we let that private information out.  It would possibly destroy a happy marriage, cause her to lose her job AND her children.  There are less extreme examples.  If private health information becomes known, for example, it could prevent a person from purchasing health insurance or getting a job.”

“Okay,” Ben said.  “I understand.  And I apologize for being such an ass hole.”

“I understand, too, Sir.  You’re worried about your friend.  And can’t do anything about it.  But he’s in good hands.  We’ll do everything possible to make him well again.”

Ben stood and slowly walked to the exit.  Just outside the building, he saw Tom’s father hurrying toward the building.  “Mister Davis,” Ben called out.  “They won’t let me in to visit with Tom because he’s in isolation.  But immediate family is allowed.  Would you please tell Tom that I tried to visit?  And that I’m praying for his recovery?”

“Will do,” the man replied unconsciously and continued hurrying toward the hospital entrance.

Chapter 8: TRUTH REVEALED

Ben sat in his car in the parking lot for a few minutes.  His lover — the man who so enriched his life, the man to whom he had pledged unending love and devotion, the man without whom he would be no more than the shell of a person — was seriously ill.  To confound the deplorable situation, he could not visit his lover, could not hold his hand, and could not reaffirm his unshakable love.  Instead of starting the car and driving to an empty house, he broke down and sobbed.

Meanwhile, Tom’s father, at the Nurse’s Station on the second floor, was asking for directions to Tom Davis’s room.  The nurse explained that the patient had been sedated as part of the medical treatment and would not be responsive.  “Nevertheless,” the man insisted, “I want to see my son.”

“Then you are his father?” the nurse asked.

“Yes.”

The nurse gave him a mask to cover his mouth and nose and explained that it was a precaution against further bacterial infections in the patient.  She then directed him to the proper room.  A sign on the door warned, ‘Authorized Personnel Only.’  The man ignored the sign and entered the room.  He expected to find his son peacefully resting and was not prepared for what he saw.  His son lay in bed tethered to two IV drips — one in each arm — a catheter to evacuate urine, and a sensor on his chest with a wire connecting it to a display of heart beats.  A humming respirator’s face mask was strapped over his mouth and nose.  The normally self-assured and ‘in-control’ type of guy was on the verge of tears to see his only son so thoroughly incapacitated.  He pulled a chair to the bedside, sat down, and clasped his son’s hand.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, son,” he said softly.  “But I hope you know that I’m proud of you.  And I love you.  Since your mother passed, I’ve come to appreciate you more than I thought possible.”  After a long pause, he continued, “I pray that you will recover from whatever has infected your body.  Which reminds me.  Ben is also praying for you.”

Tom, without opening his eyes, curled his lips into a partial smile and mumbled, ‘Ben’.”

“Yes, I saw him as I arrived at the hospital.  He came to see you but they wouldn’t let him in.”

Still in an almost inaudible whisper Tom murmured something Tom’s father could not quite make out but it sounded like “...love you Ben...”

Tom half-spoke no more.  His father, fearing the worst, checked the instrument on the wall above the bed.  It reassuringly displayed a line depicting a normal heart beat.

The distraught father silently held back his tears.  That would be, in his view, ‘un-manly’.  With conversation impossible, the man tried to guess at the meaning of what his son had murmured.  Was it really ‘... love you Ben...’ as he first thought?

With no visible change in his son’s unresponsiveness, the distraught man left.

During Tom’s father’s visit with his son, Ben regained control of his emotions and stopped crying.  He thought of the recent experiences: the phone call, rushing to the hospital, being denied visitation, yelling at the receptionist, distress over Tom’s condition and the unknown prognosis, the confrontation with the security guard that morphed into a conversation, and finally “losing it” in the car before driving home.

Suddenly, a now-familiar sensation enveloped his mind.  Just at the moment Tom was mumbling Ben’s name, he was mentally reaching out to him, to express his love for him, and to urge him not to worry.  Ben was aware of Tom’s communication.  Their ‘special gift’ of connecting wordlessly had become relatively common over the few years they had been lovers.  The ‘messages’ were never in the form of words.  Rather, they were conveyed by mere thoughts, thoughts without any form that would be recognized by normal human senses.  Yet the meaning of the current connection, like others before, could not have been more clear to Ben.

With the inexplicable connection made, Ben replied by thinking of how profoundly he loved his partner.  He hoped that Tom would perceive the message.  And that it would, hopefully, comfort him.

<><><><><> 

Days later on a Saturday morning, Ben phoned the hospital and received some welcomed news: Tom had recovered enough to be taken off the respirator and the hospital had relaxed the visitation rules to allow visitors.  Ben rushed to the hospital, eager to see his lover.

At one point, when they were alone in the room, Tom said, “Thanks for coming to see me when I was admitted to the hospital.  I’m sorry we couldn’t talk.  They had me all doped up.  I wasn’t fully aware of what was going on.  But I do remember that you visited even though I don’t remember anything about our conversation.”

Ben was confused.  He had not visited.  But had later sensed an expression of love from Tom through what they called their ‘special gift.’  Ben began hesitantly, “Ah ... Tom,”  He paused, not sure of how to correct Tom’s memory.  “I didn’t visit you.  They wouldn’t let me.  You were in isolation.  Only immediate family members were permitted to visit.  It must be your father’s visit that you remember.”

“Maybe so,” Tom mused.  “I thought it was you.  Everything is so foggy in my mind because they kept me drugged.”

“Do you remember connecting with me the first evening you were here?”

Tom didn’t reply immediately; he was probing his fuzzy memory.  Finally, he said, “No, Ben.  I don’t remember that.”

“Do you remember my connecting with you?”

“I’m afraid not, Ben.  The damned drugs have robbed me of five days.”

Since the inability to remember what happened seemed to upset Tom, Ben changed the subject.  “So what was the doctor’s diagnosis?  What made you sick?”

“Initially, it was pneumonia.  That’s what made me cough and gasp for air before I came here.  But it turned into something they called septic shock.  That’s a very serious infection that can lead to shutting down bodily organs and, if untreated, death.  But I’m lucky.  They caught it in time.  The doctor assures me that it’s all cleared up and left no lasting damage.”

“So what’s the lesson here, Tom?”  Ben couldn’t help but to indirectly chastise his lover.  “Are you going to ignore health problems in the future?  Are you going to carry on and let a sickness get worse and worse?

“No need for the lecture, Ben.  I’ve learned my lesson.”

<><><><><> 

Later that day, Tom’s father came to visit.  After a few minutes of conversation, Tom asked, “Did you come to visit me on the day I was admitted?”

The man failed to suppress his scowl.  “Yes.  I was here.  But you were only half here.  By that I mean you were heavily sedated.  What you said — or tried to say — didn’t make sense.  You mumbled Ben’s name.  And then mumbled something that sounded like ‘love you’.  I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means.”

Tom’s defenses were instantly aroused.  He wondered if in his state of stupor he had inadvertently exposed the nature of his relationship with Ben.  “And what do you think it means, Dad?”

“Do I have to spell it out?”  Displeasure (or was it anger) was evident in the man’s tone and expression.  “Must I accuse you of something terrible?”

It was fairly clear that his dad suspected what had been a secret for three years but Tom wanted to be sure.  “Yes, Dad.  Tell me what you think it means.”

The man squirmed in his bedside chair.  His face was contorted by an overwhelming disgust.  “Okay.  If you want details I’ll ask you point blank.  Are you and Ben queer?”

The confrontational nature of his father’s blunt question launched a swarm of emotions in Tom, dominated by defensiveness.  Tom briefly considered emphatically denying the nature of his relationship with Ben.  That would be consistent with years of habitually taking every precaution to conceal their secret, of pretending to be interested in girls, of tolerating and sometimes joining others in condemning homosexual behavior, and being constantly on guard against inadvertently showing any admiration of or attraction to handsome males.  The pretense was often a challenging burden.  There was always an unsettling undercurrent of fear that their secret would be discovered and condemnation would range from subtle to intense.  Living two lives — one as an upstanding member of the community and the other as a despised degenerate or contemptible sinner — was exhausting.  The expression on his father’s face and the poorly disguised disgust in the tone of his voice was tantamount to an aggressive attack.  It was time to fight back against all the prejudice and discrimination that his father’s words and attitude represented.

“Yes, Dad.  Ben and I love each other as intensely as any man and wife couple does.  It’s not a sickness that can be ‘cured.’  It’s not a crime against nature that must be punished.  I’m sorry if you don’t approve.  But know this: Ben and I are very happy living together.  We’re deeply in love with each other.”  Having vented feelings that had been building for a very long time, Tom waited for his father’s response.  Would it be loving understanding or vicious condemnation?

“Disgusting!”  The man spat out the word with unmistakable venom.  He stood and angrily shouted.  “It’s sickening!  And sinful!  You’ve betrayed everything that I’ve taught you!  I won’t have a queer son!  And what’s more, I don’t want a queer employee screwing up relationships with my clients.”  He stormed out of the room.

The Floor Nurse, upon hearing the shouting, immediately came into the room to find Tom on the verge of tears.  “Are you okay?” she asked.

“No,” Tom replied.  “I think I’ve just lost my father and my job.”  The tears began to flow.

<><><><><> 

Tom was eventually released from the hospital with firm instructions to rest for at least another week’s recuperation at home.  Tom’s agony over his father’s cruel outburst was only partially alleviated by Ben’s compassion and loving attention.

Tom attempted several times to contact his father by phone.  The receptionist who answered the phone was, contrary to her previous personality, decidedly unfriendly.  She invariably said, “Mister Davis is not available.”  All requests for a return phone call were ignored.  After a long week at home, he went to his office only to find that it was occupied by a stranger.  Upon leaving the building, the receptionist called out, “Mister Davis.”  (Previously she had routinely called him by his first name.)  “Here’s a box of your personal items.  And here’s a check for your severance pay.”

“Thank you, Linda,” Tom said.  “It’s been a genuine delight to work with you and, I hope, to be your friend.”

The woman did not return the compliment but broke eye contact and, in icy silence, returned to her desk.  Tom left, surprised at Linda’s uncharacteristically cold attitude.  She had obviously been told the reason for his dismissal and was as homophobic as his father.  He was saddened by her attitude but far more emotionally devastating was how a father-son relationship that had been satisfying — if not especially loving — could be so coldly and cruelly ended.

Upon arriving home, Tom found it difficult to focus his mind on anything other than the abrupt termination of both family ties and employment.  He looked forward to Ben’s arrival home from work.  He desperately needed the affection that Ben so ably provided.

Dinner that night was delayed.  Rather than feed their stomachs, they opted to feed their souls with a long period of snuggling on the sofa followed by some prolonged love-making in bed.

They held each other tightly after their orgasms, which, for Tom, was just the therapy he needed to dull the pain of losing a father and a job.  But he couldn’t erase the pain completely.  Ben knew all too well the pain his lover felt because he too had suffered being expelled from his family.  At age eighteen he was at football practice at school.  His mother discovered a pornographic magazine under his mattress.  She showed it to her husband when he got home from work.  He was livid with rage.  When Ben arrived home his father screamed threats of eternal damnation in the afterlife for his evil behavior.  Accused him of betraying all the love, care, and teachings he had enjoyed growing up.  He threatened extreme physical punishment to ’cure’ him of the disgusting and unnatural behavior.  Ben left the house and returned only to secretly gather a few of his things.  He lived with a friend, quit the football team to get a part-time job, and never returned to his home.  He suffered multiple problems as he lived in exile not the least of which was the rejection by his family.

Tom had heard Ben’s story but never fully understood the emotional pain his lover had endured.  “Now I can appreciate, Ben, how you suffered when you escaped from your father’s bigotry and fearsome temper.  But I have to accept that my father’s attitude can’t be changed.”  He stopped speaking and he let his mind wander into ‘what can I do now?’

After several minutes of silently embracing his partner, Ben said, “I agree, Tom.  We should sell this place and move away ... far away.”

Tom had said nothing about moving but immediately understood that their ‘special gift’ of connection allowed his lover to know what was on his mind.

Chapter 9: THE END OF A NEW BEGINNING

Ben and Tom, having agreed to move, narrowed their choices to Texas or Florida largely because of the climate but also because of proximity to Gulf of Mexico beaches.  Eventually, they settled on the Tampa, Florida area; it offered access to a number of beaches plus a sizable population would support many cultural, social, and entertainment advantages than were not available in Dothan. 

Their move was made possible by the accumulation of three years of equity in their house.  Together with improvements they had made to the house and property, there would be a sizable profit when their house was sold — more than enough to cover moving expenses and a down payment on another home.  After extensive searching, they bought a two-bedroom condominium.

The eager anticipation of beginning anew was tempered by the task of finding jobs.  The challenge would be significant for Tom; his father (and former employer) was not likely to give a positive recommendation.  It would also be difficult for Ben whose education and job experience was highly specialized.  Their worries were unfounded.  Ben secured a job as a Quality Control Technician and Tom easily found work with a Real Estate Development Company.

The first months in their new home were filled with work, relaxing at the beach on weekends, and frequent, loving sex at night.  They were blissfully happy for ten years during which time their ‘special gift’ of wordlessly communicating became more frequent and was accepted almost as normal.  So much so that it sometimes proved to be a problem when dealing with friends and strangers.  If distracted or thinking of something other than a current conversation, they might answer a question with a non-verbal though thought-transfer.  It took quite some time to master the discipline of using thought-transfer only between themselves.

It was that merging of minds that made their wedding in twenty years later so deeply meaningful and satisfying  Their own joy was intense and it was magnified by completely feeling their partner’s joy.  But their joy would too soon be abruptly terminated.

<><><><><> 

It was late afternoon when Ben’s employer sent all the employees home because a hurricane that had been predicted to make landfall on the western tip of the Florida panhandle unexpectedly took an eastward course.  The Tampa area’s weather advisory was upgraded to an emergency warning.  Tom was working near St. Petersburg supervising the construction of a group of condominiums.   Ben, unsure of whether his husband was aware of the threatening weather, called Tom to let him know of the impending danger.  Tom sent all of the workers home and then took a final tour of the construction site to make sure no workers remained.

Tom got in his car and headed for the entrance ramp to the 275 freeway.  But, upon entering the freeway, he was captured in dense, slow-moving traffic.  He decided to take the next exit, hoping that surface streets would be more navigable.  It was a smart but unfortunate decision.  Ten minutes later, a strong gust of wind toppled a very large, very old tree which crushed Tom’s car ... and Tom.

It had been almost three hours since Ben had phoned Tom but Tom had not come home nor, unlike Tom’s usual habits, phoned to say he was delayed.  Ben tried to reach him by phone again knowing that Tom never used his phone while driving but hoping that, given the circumstances, he would break his self-imposed rule.  Ben heard the phone ring several times and then transfer to voice mail.  “Tom.  It’s Ben.  Let me know where you are and what’s causing the delay.  I’m worried.  Lotsa love.  Ben.”

Three more hours passed without hearing from Tom.  Ben called again.  Again he was connected to voice mail.  He hung up, his worry morphing into panic.  He tried contacting Tom wordlessly through their mental connection.  But there was no consciousness to connect to.  After nearly twenty minutes of trying, Ben gave up and assumed his lover had been injured, was unconscious, and therefore out of touch.  His worries became obsessive.  He phoned all the hospitals and urgent care facilities in the area but none had any record of treating or admitting a Tom Davis.  Ben, in an attempt to relieve his anxiety, convinced himself that one of the medical facilities was so busy that they were behind in their paperwork.

Well past midnight a thoroughly distraught Ben collapsed on the sofa and eventually fell asleep.

He awoke at half past seven and repeated what had been fruitless the night before: calling Tom’s phone – no answer; calling the hospitals and urgent care facilities – no information on admission of a Tom Davis or any other man fitting his description.

Ben refused to accept the most logical explanation: that Tom had been in some kind of accident and had been killed.  His self-deception was shaken when he answered a knock on the door and saw a deputy sheriff.

“Does Tom Davis live here?” the deputy asked.

“Yes,” Ben replied.  “Is he all right?”

Ignoring Ben’s question, the deputy asked, “Are you a relative or a friend?”

“I’m his husband,” Ben replied without any hesitation about revealing the nature of his relationship with Tom.

“May I come in, Sir?  We need to talk.”

Ben ushered the uniformed visitor into the living room, dreading what information might be forthcoming.

The deputy, abandoning his ultra-professional tone and demeanor, said almost reluctantly but with obvious compassion, “Tom Davis … your husband … was in a freak accident.  A tree fell on his car.”

“Is he all right?” Ben interrupted urgently.

The deputy paused, which was tantamount to saying, ‘No, he’s not.’  Ben felt the tears coming but managed to hold them back.

“I’m afraid not, Sir.  A tree fell on his car and killed him.  Instantly, I would guess.”

Ben lost control of his emotions and sobbed.  The deputy almost cried in sympathy for Ben but managed to maintain his professional demeanor.  After several minutes, the deputy asked, “Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?”

“No,” Ben mumbled.  “Wait.  Where is Tom now?’

The deputy handed Ben two business cards – one of his own and one from a local mortuary.  “Mr. Davis’ remains are at this funeral home pending notification of kin.  You can claim the body of your husband but...”  The deputy paused.  “I would advise you not to look in the casket.  The body was severely crushed.”

<><><><><> 

The funeral was brief but well attended.  More than a hundred friends and business associates were there.  Ben made it through the emotionally debilitating service only because of the support of two gay men who had been friends of Ben and Tom for many years.  They drove Ben home after the graveside service and offered to stay with him for a while.  But he declined the thoughtful offer.  Physically tired, mentally drained, and emotionally exhausted, he ate a light supper and went to bed early.  Before getting into bed, he did something he hadn’t done since he was a little boy.  And he thought he would never do again.  He prayed.  He prayed for the soul of his lost companion.  He prayed for himself. He prayed for relief from the agony of his loss.

He woke in the middle of the night.  A by-now familiar sensation permeated his mind.  It was not unlike the sensation when he communicated wordlessly with Tom.

*****

READERS’ NOTE:  Ben and Tom’s gift of communicating wordlessly cannot be adequately represented by spoken or written word.  What follows, therefore, is at best an accurate but inadequate representation of their silent dialogue.  And devoid of all emotional content.

*****

“Tom!  Is that you?”

“Yes, my love.  I have a message for you.”

“I miss you.  I ache for you.”

“Do not grieve.  I’m in a better place.”

“A better place?  What place?”

“Its name would mean nothing to you.  Bright.  Beautiful.  Peaceful. A joyful place.”

“I want to be with you.”

“It’s not time.  Live your life.”

“Are you whole?  Well?  Happy?”

“Yes.  My trip here was instantaneous. No pain.  Left my mortal body behind.”

“I love you, Tom.  I miss you.”

“I say again.  Do not grieve.  I’m in a better place.  Happy.  I wait for you.”

“I love you.  I want to see you soon.”

“I repeat.  Do not grieve.  Live your life.  I must go now.   I have permission for this visit only.  Do not grieve.  Live your life.”

*****

Ben lay in bed recalling the communication.  “Strange,” he thought to himself, “I’m no longer burdened with sadness.  I feel at peace for the first time in almost a week.”  Then he fell asleep.

He woke in the morning with still vivid memories of his encounter with Tom.  But, as the day wore on, doubt slowly crept into his analytical mind.  Did he dream the connection with Tom?  Was it a fabrication of a tormented mind?  Was it nothing more than a protective response of his mind to shield him from the pain of losing his lover?  Or did it happen as he remembered it?

In the end, he consciously chose to believe it was not merely a dream.  And if that is a delusion that makes living life alone more bearable, so be it!

The End

Posted: 08/25/17