Intertwined Lives

Hello. I am Harry and I am homosexual. After studying literature in college, it has been difficult for me to get a job, not so much for my sexual orientation, but because in my line, it sometimes is necessary to have contacts with influential people. I decided to gain influence to the hard way, through volunteering in hospitals and community organizations, not only in the "gay" activism, and I so have earned respect, although not much wealth.

I got a part-time position of social worker's assistant at a hospital in my neighborhood, almost a "candy striper." From the aisles, I noticed a young man in especially frail health, but always from a distance, since I don't have a free hand to investigate the patients. But in the monthly meetings of the homosexuals and lesbians rights activists, I began seeing him attending, and he even talked at length with the board, but in private. One day, I passed near him when the meeting was adjourned and I saw him staggering, so I offered to help him:

"Hey, friend: do you feel all right?"

He tried to ignore me, but upon almost hopelessly leaning onto the external wall, I had to come closer. I insisted a little tactfully:

"Let me help you."

I met his gaze, and although the light was dim, I knew that he got dizzy. I pulled him away from the people that were leaving the premises and I steered him to the sidewalk, and he vomited on the gutter. I got alarmed and with some girlish hysteria, I exclaimed:

"My dear, what's wrong with you?"

He replied exasperated:

"I already feel better."

"You are not all right."

"How can you know? Are you a doctor?"

"Not exactly, but I work at the general hospital."

He wanted to keep arguing, but he felt very tired and allowed me to take him home. I almost carried him to his apartment, and I even had to request his keys in order to go up. I offered to bathe him, and he mumbled, in a mocking tone:

"Are you qualified to bathe patients?"

"Yes, here are my credentials."

And I showed him my hospital identification card. He looked at me, and smiling, told me:

"Go ahead. You are authorized."

He sat on his toilet and got undressed. His penis was a little long and thin, in proportion to his entire body: tall and slender; in a word, handsome, beautiful, in spite of his illness. That made me ask him:

"Excuse my prying, but since you are now my patient, do you have AIDS?"

He gave me a damning look and he told me:

"No, what I have is leukemia! Don't you realize that I vomited because of the chemotherapy!"

"Oh, I'm sorry for misjudging you! Look, I will also take off my clothes, because of what I see, I will have to help you inside. Would this bother you?"

I don't know if it was sexual excitement or mere exhaustion, but he allowed me to strip to join him in the shower. I rubbed him vigorously and I even rinsed his mouth with the running water, to clear his stench, and he told me enticingly:

"You know? You are turning me on. Maybe you planned this?"

"No. Maybe you did, going out like this so I could rescue you?"

"Me neither, but since we are at this..."

He turned and he began to kiss me, first my mouth, and then went down on my chest, a little stockier than his, since one of the few benefits of working in the hospital is the use of a good gym. If I have to handle some weak patients, I have to keep in shape. I told him mischievously:

"Do you like what you see?"

"Oh, yes, you are very pretty!"

He kissed each one of my nipples, and going down over my stomach with lust, he kneeled in front of my penis, he kissed my glans with supreme fondness, and surrounding my member with his thin lips, he suckled me very pleasurably, and after not having had sex since I graduated, I almost ejaculated in his mouth instantly. I warned him:

"Please, you are me going to make me finish too soon!"

Then, he released me, but he passed his tongue over my testicles and he traced a path with the tip for my perineum, and after caressing and poking my anus with his lathered fingers, he licked it and I groaned:

"Please, nobody has touched me down there for quite a while!"

"Are you a virgin?"

"Not, but it's been a while without a mate..."

While he distracted me with delightful caresses, he moved behind me and inserted his penis in my anus. I shivered while he entered me, and his sway tickled my prostate gland while he kissed the nape of my neck and my back and I fondled my nipples from behind, and I had an intense orgasm without touching myself down there, and his unexpected thrusts forced me to brace myself on the shower walls. It was my turn to slip down to the floor and he took advantage of in order to lavish kisses on my forehead and my short hair, while I, I at least was able to kneel.

He washed my body with much affection, concentrating on my penis and my anus, which he soaked with a little colder water, in order to soothe my soreness. Thus I regained my balance and allowed him to direct me to his bed. He went to bed and he allowed me to lie behind him like in the spoons position, so that I would caress and kiss him. He exclaimed gently:

"I lied."

"About what?"

"I did plan this all along."

"Trickster!"

"Yes, I am a trickster! I also saw you at the hospital, and you impressed me with your body of an Adonis. When I was told about the 'pro-gay' meetings and I saw you there, I forgot all about my suffering and kept attending, to meet you there. Do you forgive me?"

"Yes, dear! You are so beautiful."

"Really? Don't you hold a grudge against me?"

"No, I already told you."

"Don't you want, at least, to get even?"

"That I want!"

I took a condom from the table, not so much to prevent AIDS, but because they are lubricated, and with that, I penetrated him, while I hugged him and caressed him feverishly before pumping him. I moved smoothly, considering his frailty, and I was a little surprised to feel another orgasm, although this one took a little longer in developing. I felt how he sprinkled his semen on my arms and I also had my ejaculation, a little painful, but I was happy to take out all my long-neglected desire. I kissed his cheek and he turned his face, and I so could kiss his lips and tongue. We fell asleep like that and on the next day, I helped him get up, we washed again, and we did a 69, with him under me. First, we kissed each other's glanses softly, then, we sucked the shafts up and down, down to the testicles. Sometimes, we let go of the penises in order to suck the balls too, and in the end, we deep-throated as much as we could in order to receive the semen directly in the stomach. Finally, we kissed each other's mouths to share the taste of the leftover semen that didn't go off with so much force. Then, he asked me:

"Stay with me!"

I told him without thinking, very sure of myself:

"Of course I will, Luis, my love!"

I already knew his name, because when the meetings start, each one says his or her name, like in Alcoholics Anonymous, and sometimes, the new members wear a label on the shirt that says "Hello, my name is..." It seemed to be love at first sight. I moved to his apartment, because I already had some difficulty in order to pay my rent and other expenses, and he collected disability benefits. I devoted myself to look after him and help him with his therapy, but I still could not afford losing my job, due to my debts. He was a free-lance web pages designer, and he even had offered his services for our support group. I was able to apply my studies in this project, upon editing, correcting the board's messages, and finally, formatting so that they look well in the page. My boyfriend was in charge of technical details, such as linking files, placing illustrations and even protecting the page from hackers and viruses.

At the beginning, he put his penis in me more times than I did in him, because he knew how to enhance the orgasms through my rectum, it seems that he understood more about anatomy than I, upon having to learn so much about his illness. I believe that he was an unfulfilled scientist. But as his cancer advanced, I had to sedate him a lot, and these drugs made him impotent. Then, just to please me, he encouraged me to put my penis inside him, by saying:

"It's terrible to waste such a nice penis as yours."

I wanted to alleviate his suffering with much sexual pleasure, so I learned how to pleasure him through his prostate and I even managed to delay my ejaculation in order to give him time to reach his climax, that sometimes, didn't include any semen. When he became too weak, I felt sorry to use his body, but he insisted that I satisfy myself. One night, he told me that he wanted to suckle me, and I presented my manhood to him, because his kisses there were always magic, especially when he added a finger in my anus. And even in his erectile dysfunction, he enjoyed that I kiss and suckle his limp penis; he was like a child, eager for affection.

His fellatio began, and when I was about ready to ejaculate, he deep-throated me too much, and upon looking at how his face colors changed, I lost my arousal, and panic-stricken, pulled out of him quickly. I set him down him and I gave him mouth-to-mouth breathing, while I reproached him in anguish:

"What are you trying to do to me? Don't leave me, don't you die!"

He responded with rebelliousness:

"Let me go, I already want this to end!"

Since, at least, he could talk, I lifted him by the shoulders and brought him to the hospital. There was only a doctor at the emergency ward, although with enough nurses and paramedics, but I could see that he was overworked. Even so, he assisted us soon. He checked his vital signs, and he judged them acceptable for the advanced stage of his condition, and he admitted him in a hospital bed, under observation, and so he freed himself in order to attend to more serious cases.

I stayed with him, and I saw how his breathing and his other signs decayed, and I despaired. But soon the doctor arrived, with a form on a clipboard, half-filled out, which I recognized immediately: it was Luis' death certificate. My heart skipped a beat, and I almost screamed at him:

"There must be a mistake, Luis is all right! Take that paper away, it is not necessary!"

He also got scared upon seeing my reaction, because he is neither tall nor brawny, and he begged me:

"Calm down, Sir...!"

"Harry!"

"I am Albert. Look, your friend already has a few hours left, and since my shift is officially over, they have sent me to wait for the inevitable. I'm very sorry."

"But I didn't let him suffocate, he will return with me. Give me a form..."

And I described a patient release form, but he insisted:

"Look, Harry: I have the file on the patient here, and he is already in his final stage. It is preferable that he stays here and not in your house, so the humiliation of an autopsy is avoided, and also, he will receive enough morphine in order to alleviate his suffering."

Saying this, he went to check the intravenous line, and from time to time, he took Luis' pulse and listened for his breathing, as if he didn't trust the instruments that monitored those signs. So he remained by the side of the bed opposite to where I sat, as if shielding himself from me. He continued:

"If it is of any consolation, Luis could not have choked due to any game with you."

And so that I didn't have time to interrupt his indiscreet comment, he concluded:

"...your friend already knows that his time has come."

A blaring beep indicated that he stopped breathing, and the doctor contracted the pear on his oxygen mask, and from time to time, he pressed on his chest. He shone a flashlight on his pupils to look for a reaction, and finally, he turned off the machines and he said:

"Time of death: 3:25 AM."

My chest was oppressed, and it enraged me so much to see how he wrote down in the form that he had brought ready, with so much clinical indifference, what he had observed. Finally, he covered Luis' face with the bed sheet and he told me:

"Come, let's get out of here. We cannot do anything more for your friend."

I looked at him hypnotized, as if he were transparent, but he took me by an arm and pushed me toward a dining room, in order to serve me some coffee. He poured it black and with very little sugar, as if were a shot of Whiskey, so that I could wake up from my daze. He asked me:

"What is your relationship with Luis?"

"He is my lover. Don't laugh!"

"I won't laugh, it is necessary to write that down in the certificate. Also, I heard gossip about you when I came upstairs, but I am not a man who takes that kind of talk seriously."

"Then write down: I am his husband, or his wife, his widow. It doesn't matter anymore."

And I cried bitterly. The doctor left the clipboard on the table and told me:

"I understand what you're going through."

"No! You can't understand."

"It's all right, whatever you say. If you want, I will leave you alone; nobody will come here to bother you."

When I saw him reaching the door, I called him:

"Please, don't leave. Forgive me. I know that you did what you could do for my partner."

I approached him, and I tried to kiss him, but he avoided me. But I insisted:

"Doctor, I could not say goodbye to him."

He interrupted:

"But he practically died in your arms."

"You don't understand, we were making love when he began feeling ill. Look, I beg you to..."

"Necrophilia is not allowed in hospitals."

"Not that. Please, give me yours in my anus. Look: here I have some condoms, so you won't take a risk. Also, if you are the one who puts it in me, you won't feel so homosexual."

His face said no, but the bulge in his pants made him doubt. He went for surgical gloves, and upon putting them on, I offered to put my condom on his member, but he refused my help and put it on himself. I got on hands and knees and he stood behind me, he reamed my anus a little, and he even massaged my prostate. When I was very dilated and stimulated, he came closer and he inserted his penis in me. His thrusts were a little inexpert, but the tremor in his young body felt nice, and I soon found the release that I needed, while he filled that condom with his semen. He asked me, surprised:

"Were you able to ejaculate?"

"Yes, Doc. You have made me very happy."

He took off the condom quietly, relieved that he would not have to offer his anus to me, not even suck my penis or masturbate me. Impulsively, I took the condom from his hands, I turned it inside out and I savored the semen. He made a grimace of poorly-concealed disgust, and he yanked it back to discard it among the biomedical waste. I extended my hand and I thanked him, and he commented concisely:

"Go home to rest. Do come tomorrow to sign the documents for the funeral arrangements."

And he bent down, with napkins in hand, in order to pick up my semen off the floor, and finally, he pulled the gloves off and he discarded everything in the corresponding holder.

I didn't feel like crying anymore, but neither could I sleep, and I thought of a brilliant idea: writing the eulogy. I was even able to upload it in our support group home page by myself, together with a photo that I already had of him for some time.

Upon coming back to work, the documents were already on my desk so I could sign them, and upon returning them, they allowed me to go to the morgue so that I could watch the mortuary employees taking him away. The shroud avoided me the impression of seeing him already turning purple. The last will of Luis was that they incinerate him, besides, that was cheaper for his insurance company, and even so, I had the opportunity to read my small speech. But my feelings betrayed me, and one by one, the other comrades helped me, taking the paper and reading on, until they were also overcome by grief. It was more beautiful this way, so they also took along a piece of the love that we had.

The doctor who helped us was present in the cremation, and he even attended some of the chats, although he didn't become homosexual, but he, more than anybody, was able to feel what we "gays" suffered. Now we are friends, but we never had another sexual encounter, but there is love and solidarity between us.

***

I mourned Luis for a long time, thinking that I would not find a soul like his. Also, I had to tend to my own matters, and I needed to be alone. I took other part-time jobs, in stores and restaurants, in order to supplement my income because I couldn't afford to lose the apartment that I used to share with the love of my life. The doctor continued in his position at the emergency room, but I didn't dare to ask his economic help, although he tried to offer it to me. I only accepted that he buy me dinner once in a while, because that charity is easier to conceal. He did save enough to buy himself a home, and sometimes, he invited me to stay in one of the rooms, but that made me feel a little like a homeless man. At least, we visited one another to talk and watch sports or rented movies. We didn't drink alcohol, because he needs a steady pulse in the operating room and I know that he also fears that I might take advantage of him if we got intoxicated.

The hospital hired a new nurse, actually, an emergency medical technician who had certain problems with the ambulance company in which she worked; let's just say that she got dizzy when the ambulance ran at high speed. Her name is Amelia and she was a great help for Albert, because he was able to subdue patients who convulsed or refused such painful procedures that it is necessary to practice to victims of burns, shootings, stabs or strong blows. She was like a Mr. Spock, because she touched certain nerves and she was able to calm them. But one day, she tried the "pinch" on a patient with abdominal trauma and he went into shock, and it became difficult for the doctor to stabilize him. She realized that she had done something wrong, but the doctor managed to restore the patient's body heat while he closed his wounds, besides having him "high" with a lot of adrenaline, and when they finally solved the problem, he led her to that lounge and he reprimanded her:

"Nurse, did it occur to you that we almost lost this patient?"

"Forgive me. I thought that, since it gave us such good results previously..."

"But the autonomous system was already compromised?! I will have to put this in my report."

Amelia was terrified and tried to beg him for her life, but she also felt that she was humiliating herself too much. She said resigned:

"Do what you have to do."

He calmed her with these words:

"Don't worry, we could attribute the trauma to the vagus nerve to the injuries, and anyhow, the patient will survive."

There was an uncomfortable silence, which he broke by saying:

"Amelia, I know that you have had problems, and I don't plan to be another obstacle in your career. In fact, I don't know whether I could have made it without your valuable help in the time in which we have worked together. I will evaluate you positively, and there won't have to be an investigation."

"But, what about your reputation, your professional ethics?"

"What good are they to me if I lose my patients...?"

He corrected himself:

"Our patients. You are better that I am, at least, in what you do."

Amelia, who fought back tears of fear, now allowed them to flow for the gratitude, perhaps, for something deeper and stronger, and she broke down on the doctor's chest to cry. She is five foot and five inches tall (1.65 mts.), and he is only two inches taller, five foot seven (5 cms., for 1.70), so he could not avoid bumping his penis on the nurse's belly, and his inevitable erection was the sign to part. They apologized mutually without words, in order not to worsen such an embarrassing moment.

Afterwards, they agreed on certain signals in order to apply the "Vulcan nerve pinch" when there was no other alternative, and the patient's condition could get no worse, and although she tried to teach it to Albert, he couldn't seem to find the right nerve or didn't apply the necessary pressure, and she had to "finish the patient off" so the medical work could be done at leisure. One day, they brought a patient, under the influence of drugs, who caused a serious traffic accident. He was extremely uncooperative, and fought all attempts to sedate him. The doctor knew that the medications would not work well in his state, and he asked Amelia to subdue him, but upon seeing that he was going to hit her with much fury, felt a rush of his own adrenaline and grabbed the guy, and combining the pinch with a wrestling hold, he was able to stun the patient. Finally, they could take care of him, if only so that the police could arrest him. Although the details are written in the medical reports, we didn't want to find out about the charges and other circumstances related to that brute.