THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Gary

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

"I first fucked a guy when I was fourteen."

Christopher Grace almost dropped the tape recorder he was about to
switch on. "I think that classifies as too much information, Mr
Lucy," he said.

"If you want to interview me, you should know that I really hate
being called Mr Lucy. Call me Gary," the man said curtly. "And
what? You don't want to know the sordid sexual details of my life?
I thought that's all you people publish nowadays in magazines."

"Gary, well, regardless of the Advocate's occasional dip into
exploitative journalism, and I admit there are quite a few
instances recently, I can give you my word that I am not here to
talk to you about your sex life."

Gary Edward Lucy shrugged and pour a glass of old 1904 champagne
to Topher, who accepted it graciously. Then he took a deep drink
from the bottle itself. Topher hoped the man would remain sober
until the end of the interview.

"I let you interview me only because I feel like it," the man
said, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his obviously expensive
Armani shirt. "And I had to get away from the crowd outside.
Fucking buttlickers, they all hate me, but they came because I
invited them to and I'm fashionable."

Topher didn't respond to that, even if he privately agreed with
Gary's speculation. The man was not born to money - he made it.
Gary Lucy was very open about his far from prestigious beginnings
- the eldest son of Australian immigrants that migrated here soon
after World War Two, Gary was raised in a very middle-class home.
His academic grades were average, his sole talent apparently in
sports that involved very little thinking and a lot of brute
strength. Yet, Gary managed to make an unexpected turnaround late
in his high school years, scoring a higher than expected score in
the SAT to get him into Yale without relying on any sports
scholarships. The streak continued through Yale, culminating with
Gary graduating at the top ten percent of his class. He could have
been hired by any prestigious multi-national conglomerates, but
instead he chose to offer his services to help ailing smalltown
businesses compete with chains. Gary Lucy started his own company
two years ago using the money he saved and invested on - and he
had plenty - that helped entrepreneurs in advice, legal services,
and investment opportunities.

How a smalltown nobody, apparently destined to be a nobody,
managed to turn into Gary Lucy, considered a hero among many
business circles, was what Topher wanted to find out today.
Scoring this interview was a triumph, and he hoped to sell this
article to some respectable gay magazines like the Advocate (okay,
so he lied to Gary when he said he was a staff writer from the
magazine) for some extra cash during his college break. He wanted
to buy his boyfriend a car.

But now Topher would be grateful if Gary would remain coherent.
The man was gorgeous in a totally wrong way: he wasn't handsome,
but his very rough and strongly defined facial features were very
appealing if one went for the rugged macho type. Gary still played
rugby - not football, but the version played by the world outside
America - and soccer, and his physique was still in tip-top
condition. He might not be a pretty boy, but the cameras loved
him. But now Gary seemed more exhausted as opposed to the defiant,
blunt, and unapologetically middle-class millionaire that he was
known as.

Gary should be happy, shouldn't he? Tonight, he had officially
helped reopened the Brigadiers, the (in)famous cutting-edge
performing art foundation. The man rarely showed interest in these
performances, but he was well-known for never turning down any
appeal for sponsorship from cultural foundations. This was another
question mark in Gary's life that Topher hoped to find an answer
to today.

"No response? You're a smart man," Gary said. He carelessly
unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, revealing a little
of his moderately hairy chest. "I won't hire you though. I like my
employees to be upfront with me. If they think I'm an asshole, I
want to say it to my face and tell me why. The other day a
pregnant clerk called me a few choice words because apparently my
company is not giving her the, what's the word, appropriate? Well,
appropriate benefits it is. She wanted some facility where she
could take her brat here when she popped the brat out instead of
leaving that brat behind in her apartment with no babysitters.
Maybe I should fire her. But I respected mothers - they're cool
people - so I told my secretary to see if she can get some day
care center to work with me on taking the brats of my overpaid
employees. So tell me, er, what's your name?"

"People usually called me Topher."

"Topher? What kind of name is that?"

"It's short for Christopher."

"Okay. Topher, eh? Okay, Topher. Ask me what you want to know. I'm
twenty-seven, born 27 November, I'm a Sagittaurus, or so I'm told.
What else do people need to know about me?"

"Well, we can start with why you choose to help small and cottage
industries in America when you could be - "

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Well," Topher said carefully, surprised by the feral tone in the
man's until now bizarre but genial nature, "it'll be what people
will find interesting about you."

"I'm sorry," Gary said. "I'm not in a good mood today. It's just
that... I... you were there at the Brigadiers party, right?"

Topher nodded.

"They sang beautifully, didn't they? Those performers?"

Topher again nodded.

"I knew someone who could sing like that. Actually, I am living
the life he should be living," Gary snapped. He shook his head, as
if he was arguing with himself. "I'm rich and I can do what I want
with my life. But it wasn't fucking right! Carl deserves this
life, not me. I'm here because he's right, Topher."

"He is?" Topher asked, not really sure what the hell Gary was
talking about.

"Yeah. He told me I don't have to accept that I'm a nobody, you
know. I did all this because of him. I promised him I would make
something out of myself. And he's right, I like being somebody.
But it isn't what I want in this fucking life, Topher."

"And what do you want?" Topher asked.

"I want to be sixteen again. I want to go back in time where I
would be with Carl once more." Gary smiled bitterly at Topher's
startled expression. "Carl Phillips, that's his name. He was the
new kid in school, and I was part of the gang that made his life
hell. But everything changed when he was forced to tutor me after
school. I was the star football player after all, and it was
important that I kept my grades high enough to keep winning
trophies for the school. I hated it at first, and I went to his
place deliberately planning to make his life hell."

"And you changed your mind?"

"Not at first. I made him cry. It was something I'm not proud of.
But the next time I went to his place, we decided to just take
this like a business and went about it with as little fuss as
possible so that we can both get it over and done with. Funny
enough, things changed then. I hated the music he played in his
room as we worked, I hated Duran Duran and Roxy Music and all that
shit, but I soon started humming them. And somehow along the way
he became my best friend." Gary sighed. "You don't want to hear
this, right?"

"Actually, I think I do," Topher said, taking the second blank
tape out of his bag, just in case.




TWO

Before

"Let's fuck," Gary said, closing the book. "I've done enough
differentiation for one day."

"Finish the page, let me check your work, and then we'll talk
about fucking," Carl said.

Gary playfully sighed and reopened the book. They were lying on
the floor of Carl's room, the door locked and the music always
playing, like every evening Gary came to be tutored by Carl. They
were both shirtless, not just because of the heat but also because
they had been more casual around each other these last few weeks.
Gary knew Carl was enjoying the sight of his bare torso, and he
often made sure that Carl would keep looking by rubbing his hand
on his well-muscled stomach. He had lost his hard-on while he was
tackling the calculus problems for the upcoming test, but now that
he was close to being done, he was getting hard again in
anticipation of sinking his hard meat into Carl's willing male
pussy. He wore nothing under his running shorts - just for Carl's
benefit - so his erection was very obvious under the flimsy
material, a solid fleshy pillar that throbbed along his left
thigh, the wide blood-engorged crown peeking out from the opening.
Gary enjoyed the sight of Carl as well. Carl's skinny but well-
formed body had made Gary lust after him like nothing else the
moment Carl walked into class that first day, and now, with Carl's
shorts hanging so low to expose the top half of the man's boxer
shorts, Gary was itching to rip off the little clothes remaining
of Carl's body.

"Done," Gary said through the knotted lust in his throat. He
pushed the book along the floor to Carl. "Stop reading that
fucking textbook, check my work, and then get naked and let me
have that ass." On second thought, he decided to reach out and
playfully lifted Carl bodily off the floor and carried the boy
over his shoulder. "I'll get them all right," he told Carl
cockily, "so let's just skip the checking and get straight to the
fucking."

"Arrogant ass," Carl said.

"Well, I've stayed back today just to study a little longer in the
library," Gary told him. "I want to get everything correct today.
They're calling me a fag now, damn you."

"And are you a fag?" Carl taunted.

"Yes, sir, I am," Gary told him. "I'm your fag, and I'm proud of
it."

Carl laughed when Gary climbed onto the bed with him. The laughter
ended with a soft murmur of pleasure when Gary kissed him hard.

They were familiar with each other's body. Carl's first day at
school ended with the football team cheering as Gary forcefully
pumped his cock into Carl's mouth in the locker room. For the next
few weeks, Carl would stay back after school to meet Gary in the
locker room where Gary would feed his cock into Carl's mouth. It
was considered acceptable in the all-boys school for Gary to use
Carl as his bitch, such as all-boys school tended to be. Gary was
more sexually experienced than his peers in that he'd had both
male and female lovers and Carl shocked Gary pleasantly by his
undeniable expertise in giving head. Most of Gary's lovers just
sucked sloppily or made pained gargling noises as he pumped his
cock into their mouths, but Carl got down on his knees and
fellated Gary like a pro. Carl would lick daintily at Gary's cock
slit to start, and Gary would moan pleasurably as Carl progressed
to licking, suckling, and tonguing the whole crown. Carl would
then sensually deep throat Gary in a slow rhythm that Gary had
never experienced before, driving Gary nuts even after so many
times he'd been sucked by Carl, that he would have to lean back
weakly against the wall to keep standing on his feet. When Gary
was close to blowing his load, Carl would stop and run his lips
along Gary's cock shaft instead, his tongue licking the thick
veins of that cock until he reached Gary's balls. Mouthing and
suckling Gary's heated ball sacs until Gary thought he would just
blow his load there and then, Carl would finish Gary off with a
slow and steady deep-throat that only increased in pace until Gary
was making incoherent bestial sounds of lust and shouted in
uncontrollable ecstasy. And even then, Carl milked him until every
blow job session left Gary drained, as if every inch of his body
had been gloriously wasted from the pleasure.

Three days after Carl began blowing Gary on a daily basis after
school, Gary fucked the boy in the ass. Their first time saw Carl
hyperventilating as he bent over, the shower drenching his shirt
to his skin and his pants and shorts around his knees as the
entirely nude Gary wildly rammed his cock up that chute until Carl
felt as if he was being torn apart by a baseball bat. Since then,
their sexual encounters had been strictly sexual, devoid of any
hint of affection, although Gary started walking Carl home soon
after they began fucking.

But now, Gary finally kissed Carl. He started kissing Carl the
first time he apologized to Carl for losing his temper and fucking
the boy so hard that it was almost rape on their first disastrous
tutoring session. He'd told himself that he needed Carl to help
him pass his exams then. Now, he wasn't so sure as he buried his
fingers in Carl's soft dark hair and let his tongue mate hungrily
with Carl's. His tongue was already moving in that unmistakably
carnal rhythm that mimicked the thrust of his groin against
Carl's. His hand pulled Carl's shorts down and his fingers closed
around Carl's throbbing erection. Carl repaid the favor by pushing
Gary's shorts down to knead Gary's taut butt cheeks.

"Fuck me first," Carl pleaded. "I need you so badly, Gary, please,
fuck me now."

"Ooh, someone's feeling selfish today," Gary teased. "I'm thinking
of maybe we could suck each other's dick for a while, getting you
to lick my ass a bit there while I finger you in the ass..."

Carl gritted his teeth and growled as he gripped Gary's face in
his hands. "Fuck me, asshole! I've been without this cock for
three days!"

"You know I can't avoid my football training," Gary told him even
as he ran the tip of his cock playfully along the sensitive groove
between Carl's legs.

"Yeah, and who knows how many cheerleaders or jocks you fucked in
the meantime," Carl said with a gasp as Gary's cock crown
playfully pushed his ass pucker open.

"Jealous, Carl?" Gary teased. "And you know there's no other
fucking-body," he told Carl. "Right now I'm fully occupied with
you. The guys are teasing me about it."

"Don't blame me for that - oh, shit!" Carl gasped when Gary
finally gave him what he wanted.

Gritting his teeth as he slowly pushed his cock up that
unbelievably hot ass, Gary paused to kiss Carl tenderly on the
shoulder. "Relax, Carl," he whispered into the boy's ear.
"Tomorrow is Saturday, remember? I'm staying here all night."

"You're all mine tonight," Carl growled.

"Absolutely," Gary agreed.

"All mine..."

"All yours," Gary concurred.

They both gasped for breath as they paused to savor the sensation
of Gary's full length embedded completely in Carl's deep anus
until the curls at Gary's crotch pressed against and teased the
hairs of Carl's anal gash. Then Gary began thrusting that thickly-
veined solid male cock in and out of that ass, slowly at first, as
Carl lay on his left side and lifted his right leg high so that
Gary could fuck him easier from the back.

There was a knock on the door. "You boys okay in there? No
fighting, you hear?"

"Okay, Dad," Carl gasped.

"Carl is teaching me about friction and steady velocity," Gary
called out as he didn't miss a stroke.

Satisfied, Carl's father left the boys to their own devices. Gary
laughed with Carl as he playfully held Carl and turn them so that
Carl was now sitting on Gary. Carl sat back and interlaced his
fingers with Gary's as he began riding Gary's cock hard. Gary met
his thrust with his own, lifting his hips in a powerful upward
motion as Carl sat down hard on that cock, settling his hips down
when Carl lifted his ass, until their moans of pleasure blended
into the wet slapping sounds of their mating flesh. Gary's wide
cock filled Carl entirely to the limit, bruising Carl's prostate
so violently that Carl was soon coming so hard, his cock shooting
his creamy come across his stomach and over his shoulders to
splatter on Gary's stomach. Gary was close behind, taking
advantage of Carl's orgasm-weakened state to move them so that
Carl was on all fours now and Gary could really bang the shit out
of him. He groped for the remote and turned up the volume of the
music as the bed began creaking loudly and thumping hard against
the wall with the force of his thrusts. Yes, so close, so close...
Gary roared as the burning in his balls turned into a
conflagration, every nerve on his body on fire as he gave one
final thrust and surrendered to his powerful climax.





THREE

Carl's father was a brilliant researcher but he could also be
unbelievably clueless at times. The man might be a respected Swede
biochemist that was right now affiliated with MIT, but he was also
lamentably oblivious to the relationship between Carl and Gary.
Gary listened with a smile as all three of them sat down for
breakfast the next morning, Mr Phillip talking about how glad he
was that his son had found a friend here. Gary had heard this
before since he dropped by the Phillip place more often. Carl's
mother died a few years back, and the two men had been moving
often since, wherever the next job of Mr Phillip's father would
take them. Gary couldn't imagine that Mr Phillip would actually
suspect nothing this morning when Carl looked flushed just like
someone who had been fucked totally - which was what Gary had
given him this morning before they came down for breakfast.

Gary was fascinated by both men. He enjoyed fucking Carl, but he
was also starting to enjoy having both Phillips talking to him as
if he's their equal. His own parents had given up hope on him and
Gary's mother always said that she would be grateful if he would
complete high school and then take over his father's convenient
store. The thought of spending the rest of his life in this town
often made Gary feel like beating up something, but he'd come to
accept that he would probably amount to nothing more. In this
household, however, Mr Phillip talked about recent current events
and developments with Carl and he often included Gary in their
chatter, so much so that Gary started reading the newspaper and
paying more attention to the TV in his father's store when he
worked there just to keep up. He kinda liked knowing things and he
felt smart for the first time when he managed to discuss tax cuts
and other issues with the Phillips. Too bad his parents thought he
was going crazy when he started fighting with his father for the
morning papers.

Like the concept of homosexuality, right-wing and left-wing
politics had no meaning to Mr Phillip. The man read everything he
could and absorb all information so that he could form his own
opinions. Carl had told Gary that when someone took the left-wing
stance in a conversation, Mr Phillip would deliberately take the
opposite stance and vice-versa. He adored his father, and Gary
somewhat enviously could see why. He had never seen some smart
people like the Phillips before. The townspeople tended to be
cordial to the Phillips but not close, as they were still
newcomers. Gary was already privately wishing that they would stay
here always. As he always did, for a brief moment he imagined
himself a part of this household and how Mr Phillip would treat
him like a beloved son-in-law.

Gary stole a goodbye kiss from Carl when they were alone before he
left the house. Already, he felt bereft of something undefined as
he took each step away from the house. In that house, he felt like
a different person. With each step away from the house, he was
slowly becoming Gary Lucy again, an oafish and badly-behaved dumb
jock who was who he was because he couldn't help it. "Oh Gary,"
everyone would say, "why can't he just grow up?" Gary found
himself wondering that too more and more frequently nowadays.

As was his ritual every weekend, he spent the rest of the morning
and afternoon working at his father's store. Business was badly
affected since they opened a Wal-Mart at the next town, but Gary's
father had no idea how to improve matters. He was set in his ways.
Gary never thought to question the way things were. But more and
more often, he found himself thinking of the things he had read in
the papers and books and devising ideas to improve this family
business. The first time he suggested that they specialize their
business instead of trying to do the same things Wal-Mart was
doing ten times better, his father shot him down with a reminder
of how little Gary Lucy is supposed to know. It stung more than
Gary expected, and his ego forced him to shut up since.

"Hi there, bag boy," Carl said as Gary was busy fixing price tags
on some cans of tuna. "Get me some milk, will you?"

"I'll give you milk," Gary retorted, thrusting his hips
meaningfully, as he passed Carl what he wanted. "I thought you
were supposed to be attending some nerd meeting at school."

"Well, I've changed my mind. I find that I'm a bit bored by nerd
meetings. I've got some tickets to this cool cutting-edge play,
this Saturday, but my father can't make it. I know this isn't your
kind of fun, but my friends are all occupied, so I wonder if..."

"If I can drive you there? Hell, what do you think I am? Your
driver?" Gary took the tickets and stuffed them in his pocket.
They both know that it was most likely that none of Carl's
acquaintances at school would go with him. But Gary didn't say it
even as he made sure that Carl couldn't change his mind about
asking Gary along. "I'll pick you at - " he pulled out a ticket -
"five. We'll have an early dinner before the play. And if the play
is dull, you're owe me a big one."

Carl's radiant smile was enough to make Gary walk on air for the
next few hours.



"I've never had any friends before," Carl said, turning to look at
Gary. "I hated you at first."

"I thought we had fun," Gary said. "I thought you liked getting
fucked by me."

Carl looked over Gary's body. "I have a suspicion that many people
would like getting fucked by you." Gary grinned. "I like it much
better when we are acting more like friends. Fucking you becomes
much enjoyable."

They spent some time in the back seat of Gary's car after the
play. Now, they stood at the side of the road, watching nothing in
particular, just enjoying the cool night air and not keen on this
day ending too soon. Carl left his shirt unbuttoned while Gary
didn't even bother pulling on his shirt. Both of them leaned
against their car parked by the road, enjoying the silence.

"It can't be easy... you moving around and all," Gary broached
cautiously.

"No. Dad always says I'm different from the other kids because I
sometimes know too much."

"While I don't know anything," Gary teased.

"Really? You don't seem too ignorant to me," Carl said with a
curious look at Gary.

"Well, I tried reading up to impress you and your father," Gary
confessed. "Why do you think I worked so hard at shit like
calculus and economics, man? I want you two to like me."

"Gary, are you falling in love with me?"

Gary cursed. He tried to make a joke. "I don't know," he
confessed. "I just want you to like me, that's all. And I want you
to stay," he added fiercely. "I want you to be there and cheer for
me after every game and give me a victory blow job at the back
seat of my car."

"You think too much about blow jobs."

"Don't blame me. You're so good at it, I think about getting it
from you all the time," Gary told Carl. "I bet you started blowing
the guys in school young. Your father will be shocked if he knows,
I bet."

"Hey, what I did with the guys in my old schools are none of your
business." Carl chuckled at Gary's look of consternation. "But you
are bigger than most of them."

"Most of them?" Gary echoed.

"Okay, all of them." Carl smiled to himself.

"That's better," Gary said. "As I'm saying before you interrupted
me like that, I want you to stay. That's all."

"Then I have to tell you this, I guess. My Dad has received a
tenure offer from Cambridge, and he is seriously considering
accepting it."

"Cambridge? Isn't that in England?" Gary exclaimed.

"Yeah."

"Why the hell are you moving so soon after you came here?" Gary
cried.

"Hey, you think I like moving?" Carl asked. He took a steadying
breath. "But what can I do? He's my family, and I have to go where
he goes."

"When are you leaving?" Gary didn't want to look at Carl. He
couldn't stand it. He was slowly wishing that he had never even
met the guy.

"Maybe in November. But there's still a chance that my father
wants to stay here," Carl said. When Gary didn't answer, he said
tentatively, "Gary?"

"I wish you've never come into my life!" Gary's yell startled the
both of them. "Leave then, damn you," Gary cried even as his heart
began hurting like hell. "I don't care. I don't need you. I don't
need anyone." It hurt, it really hurt. Gary had never hurt so much
before, not even when he broke his collarbone once during football
practice. Wiping angrily at the tears that he wasn't even aware he
was shedding with his sleeves, he opened the car door and gestured
at Carl to get inside.

"Carl - "

"Shut up and get in!" Gary shouted.

Carl got in.

Gary drove like a madman, only stopping the car with a loud
screech of burning rubber before Carl's place. "Get out," he
snarled as he pushed open the car door. And he pulled the door
shut and drove off without letting Carl a chance to say any more.

"Oh Gary. You'll get used to it, just like I've gotten used to
it," Carl whispered sadly as he watched Gary sped over. He ran his
fingers wearily through his hair, wishing he could do something,
but he was helpless in this situation. Finally, he just walked
towards the door, each heavy step an echo of the hollow thud of
his every heartbeat.



During lunch time the next day, Gary placed his food on the table
and sat beside Carl. "Don't leave," was the first thing he said.
"You can stay at my place. When we graduate from this fucking
school, I can rent us a room somewhere and we can stay together.
Not here, but maybe in the city."

"I can't," Carl said. "I would love to, but you see how my father
is. He needs someone to take care of him or he will forget to even
eat."

Gary gave an ugly laugh. "I'm never going to leave this place," he
said, his voice a high but quavery pitch that reflected his
confused emotions. "I'll be forced to take over my father's store.
I will spend my entire life shelving bottles of Seven-Up and Coke
and wishing I've never been born. And now that I begin to like you
more and more, Carl, you're leaving me behind in this shit hole.
Fuck, I wish I can hate you. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Carl, we just knew each other for a few months - "

"I don't give a damn how many months we've been fucking each
other," Gary said fiercely. "All I know is that something in me
changed after I knew you and your father, and I like that person
I'm changing into. I don't want to go back to being the old me,
Carl. I can't stand going back to that old life where I don't know
you. Every night, I want to come over to your place, climb that
tree beside your house, and tap on your window so that you will
let me in. When I can't, I go to sleep dreaming that I did, you
know, that I'm somehow sleeping beside you in your bed. The very
idea that I am never to see you again, that is fucking
unacceptable!"

Carl looked at his tray of food, what little of his appetite gone.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked miserably. "I can't stay
here when my father leaves."

Gary opened his mouth, but only shook his head instead. "Fine," he
said finally. "Forget it. I don't need this shit. There are many
people that want a piece of me. I don't need you. We're through,
Carl. I don't even want to talk to you."

"Have it your way," Carl whispered tightly.

Gary backhanded his tray of food, causing it and its content to
fall onto the floor with a loud crash. And then he walked away.





FOUR

Present

"He left just like he said, in November," Gary said in a flat
monotone. "By then, I've made a complete fucking mess of myself. I
lied, Topher, when I told him that I could find his replacement in
my bed easy. I didn't want anyone. I ended up getting drunk and
fighting that I was worse off then before. My father threatened to
disown me, but I didn't care. All I knew was that he was leaving
for another continent, for fuck's sake, what was there for me
anymore?"

Topher nodded sympathetically. He glanced at the clock. It was
almost ten. Gary had been talking for almost three hours.
Privately, he had sent a message to Jared on his cellphone that he
would be running late because the interview had taken a strange
turn.

"I didn't want to go to the airport to see him leave," Gary said.
"I really didn't."



Before

"Go away," Gary snarled as he sat in his room and tried to get
wasted.

"It's me."

"Go away, Mom," Gary snarled.

"Open the door or I will ask your father to break it down."

Gary cursed foully but he pulled on a clean pair of jeans over his
shorts and let him mother in. Sure enough, his mother began
scolding him over the stench of alcohol and the dirty clothes
littering the floor. As he watched her pick up his clothes, he
asked in what he hoped was a more polite tone, "Mom, what the hell
do you want?"

"You have been holed up in here acting like a jackass," his mother
said, throwing the dirty clothes at Gary. "You've always been a
jackass, but never this deliberately nasty to anyone. You get into
fights and the sheriff suspects you of doing drugs. What is going
on, Gary? Is it that Phillip boy?"

"Mom, don't go there," Gary warned.

"What? You think I can't handle my son being in love with another
boy?" She snorted at Gary's shocked look. "I won't speak for your
father, but I'm too old to worry about who you are seeing. All I
care is that you don't end up screwing up your life. I've seen my
brothers get drunk, beat their wives, and generally being scums.
Why do you think I told you I have no family? I disowned them all.
I got lucky, I married your father, a good man, and I have a good
life. And when I see how that Phillip boy get you to study and get
decent grades in school, I'm happy for you."

"Mom, he's leaving," Gary couldn't help saying with a sob. "He's
leaving me for fucking Cambridge in England!"

"Is that why you have been acting like a jerk these last two
months?"

"I don't know what to do, Mom," Gary whispered.

"When is he leaving?"

"Today."

"So go see him at the airport." His mother sat on the bed and
hugged her son tight. "Look, Gary, it will be better if you tell
him goodbye. Listen to Momma, okay? If you don't make your peace
with him, you will spend a long time after this wondering about
what could have been."

"Okay," Gary said in a small voice. "I have to go then."

His mother nodded and got onto her feet. She pulled apart the
curtains, letting the sunlight stream into the room. It was
strangely appropriate, this sunlight brightening his room, Gary
thought, as he unsteadily got on his feet. Where were his clean
clothes? He need to look great for Carl, he thought as he pulled
open his wardrobe door. He had to tell Carl how sorry he was and
how he regretted being so stupid.

Before he ran out the door, he promised his mother that he would
do the dishes tonight. She upped it to three nights per week.



"Carl!" Thank God, thank God he was in time, Gary thought as he
ran towards those two at the airport hallway. "Carl, oh Carl!" he
said, half-sobbed actually, as he embraced Carl like a man
drowning. "I'm so sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have behaved the
way I did, I - "

Carl's father coughed and murmured, "I'll leave you two alone.
Carl, I'll be at the bar."

And that was when Gary realized that Carl's father knew about Gary
and his son all along.

"I wish I've spent the last few months..." Gary tried to find the
correct words to say. "I wish I had made you happy. When I think
of the wasted time that we could have spent fucking and just
enjoying each other's company, I hate myself, Carl. I'm an idiot.
I deserve to be an idiot!"

"No. Damn it, Gary, no, okay?" Carl tried to steady his voice.
Damn, he hated it when he cried. "I was hoping that you won't show
up, because I always thought it will be easier to say goodbye this
way. But I'm glad you did. I really am, okay? Shit, I'm babbling."

Gary tried to smile. "I'll always think of you."

"You won't," Carl told him. "This will be a nice memory, but we
will move on. There will be other people. Don't look at me like
that, Gary. I'm good at saying goodbyes and moving on. I know what
I am saying. And in a way, you will always be my biggest mistake,
because my first rule is to never let anyone get close to me, but
you did. But yeah, I'm glad you did."

"So you'll forgive me?" Gary asked.

Carl nodded. "Only if I can one day open a newspaper and read
about how they call you a hero."

"No problem," Gary said. "Maybe we can write? Call each other?"

"I'd rather not. I love you, Gary. And I think you love me too. So
let's just go our separate ways on this, okay?"

What could Gary say to that? "Okay," he said, dejected and
defeated at last. He kissed Carl on the lips one last time. "I
love you," he said. His heart seemed to grow lighter and beat more
freely when he said those words, as if his soul had been
unburdened at last by his honest confession. "I think I always
will."

"And I you." Carl looked at the arrivals and departures board. "I
have to go," he said finally. "Get them to name a stage foundation
after me!" he called jokingly.

Gary nodded. He held Carl's hand for as long as he could, until he
had to finally let Carl go. "Goodbye, Carl," he whispered as he
watched Carl and his father walked into the departure hall. His
heart was breaking. But he would survive, he told himself
fiercely. He had to.



Present

"So I did it. I'm a hero, in a way, and I had them name an arts
scholarship after Carl," Gary said. "I did what Carl asked me to.
So, what do you think? Am I an idiot or am I a romantic fool?"

"A romantic, Gary, and an admirable man who has done more for
himself as well as the people around him," Topher said. He thought
of the men that was constantly linked to Gary in the social
papers. "And you've moved on with life after Carl?" he asked
gently.

"I've tried. But I gave in and had people search for Carl a few
years back because I'm so tired of thinking about him. I hoped
that... well, they couldn't find Carl. It was as if he had dropped
off the earth after he graduated from medical school in Cambridge.
I don't know if he's dead or alive." Gary ran his hand over his
face wearily. "I'm so tired, Topher. I still dream of him
sometimes. I even had imaginary conversations with him in my mind
when I am close to giving up in my job. Do you get me? He's my
hero, Topher. Carl saved me, he made me a better person. I wish I
could have told him just how much he means to me." He shrugged.
"Anyway, that's it. Write what you want from this, I don't care. I
just need someone to talk to, and I'm glad it's you. Thank you.
Now fuck off."

Maybe he should have been nicer to that guy, Gary reflected when
he was alone in his study. He pulled open a drawer and took out
the weapoon he kept there. He checked it, made sure that the one
bullet he had always kept in the magazine, and placed it on the
table for his perusal. He lifted it, pressed it against his left
temple, opened his mouth and pushed it against the roof of his
mouth, and then placed it back at the table.

The telephone interrupted his thoughts. Cursing under his breath,
he answered it with an ungracious, half-growled, "Yeah?"

"So you're a hero."

Gary couldn't find his voice for a heartbeat. "Yes, I am. Don't I
look good on the magazine cover?" he finally said.

"I like what you did to my name."

"How did you get my number?" Gary asked. Not that he cared how. He
would give the person who passed the number to Carl a million
dollars for his service.

"I told them I'm the Carl Phillip whom you thoughtfully asked the
scholarship to be named after." A pause. Carl was as equally
unnerved as Gary. "How are you, Gary?"

"I'm fine. You read some of what I did in the last thirteen years.
You want me to tell you the rest? And where the fuck have you
been, Carl?"

"Through hell, I guess. My father died soon after I graduated - "

"I'm sorry. He's a good man."

"Thanks. I'm relieved he died the way he did - in his sleep. I
miss him. And I miss you too."

"Thanks. The feeling's mutual."

"I spent the last ten years moving around the globe, being a
doctor. Where there was a war, plague, or strife, there I was,
working to save what wretched souls I could. I spent two years in
between recuperating from a shell that lodged itself in my head
and almost killed me. It was hell. I'm letting you know, Gary,
because when I finally gone back to my apartment in London and
found those letters you wrote to me six years back that I never
even knew - I was away for so long, believe me, Gary, please - and
then, I read that magazine a friend showed me when he was curious
about the name (he knew that I had a boyfriend named Gary) and I -
fuck, fuck, fuck!" Carl was shouting the last few words. Steadier
now, he continued, "Gary, I'm the biggest fool in the world to
think that I can't mean as much to you as you mean to me. Talking
to you in my mind was how I kept sane these last few years. If I
fly down to New York at the next flight to you, will you forgive
me?"

Gary smiled into the darkness. "Yes, I will, Carl. Let me get a
pen so that I can make note of your flight's time of arrival."

"Don't drive like a monster like last time. I want to see you in
one piece."

"I won't," Gary promised. "I am a steadier, more mellow man now."

"While I'm a much more unsteady, half-crazed man with a certified
case of PSTD. You've been warned, Gary."

"We'll take one day at a time and see where we go from here," Gary
promised him.

He switched on the lights in his room so that he could see what he
was writing. And Carl told him that he would be arriving next day
at two in the afternoon.