New beginnings

I was staring at a bed of flowers in the garden of the hospital compound. Or rather, I was staring into space. I still couldn’t believe fate had played this trick on me. Never in my life was I a guy who sped or took risky turns while driving – and yet, here I was sitting in a wheelchair after a car crash that broke my spine.

Quadriplegic. The docs said I needed to be grateful to still be alive. But was I?

I used to be an athlete. I remember I was on my way to some sports tournament when my life suddenly took a halt. Sitting around all day wasn’t something I’d done a lot in my life. Looked like I would from now on.

My cell slipped off the blanket on my knees and fell to the grass right next to the flower bed where the nurse had left me in my wheelchair. Damn it. I couldn’t reach it, of course. I stared at the fucking phone as it lay face down in the grass and tried to keep the tears from spilling over my eyelids. It was all so fucking unfair.

A shadow fell on me and someone bent down to pick up the phone. I sniffed and rubbed savagely at the wetness on my face with my hand. I looked up and hoped my voice was steady enough. “Thanks.”

Just my luck. It was Mr Hot, Muscled and Bearded. The one I’d been admiring from afar. The one I would have loved to get to know in the biblical sense, if circumstances had been different. But here I was, paralyzed from the waist down and staring at a hot muscle bear who I just knew from a distance, because the dude used to walk around the hospital grounds in circles, seemingly unaware where he was and what he was doing. A nutcase, my former self would have called him. Now, crippled and broken myself, I wasn’t so quick to label other people so carelessly.

“Are you okay?” Mr Hot Guy asked me as he handed me my phone. I swiped my hand over my eyes once more and gave the best fake smile I was able to.

“Yeah, thanks man. It just fell and I couldn’t reach it.”

He smiled down at me with a perfect row of blindingly white teeth. I could see on his bald skull that he had a gash on the side of his head that must have been a few weeks old. He only wore a band-aid over it now instead of a full-on bandage like the first time I saw him. He also seemed much more collected than during those first days, when he acted all dizzy and confused in the hospital hallways and a nurse had to go fetch him countless times.

“You been in that chair long?”, he asked.

I shook my head. “Just about 4 weeks. The major surgery has healed, but docs say I will probably never walk again.” I looked at my feet and willed the tears away. I felt like talking about someone dying. I should be happy to even be here. I knew I should.

He put his hand on my neck and after my initial surprise over the unexpected closeness, I welcomed the warm touch. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

I knew. They all were. Hell, I was too.

“What’s your name?” I said to change the subject.

He looked up and stared at something I couldn’t see. “The nurses call me John. So I guess John it is. I don’t remember my actual name, can you believe that?”

I gaped at him. “What happened?”

To my surprise, he laughed. He had a deep and rich voice. Instead of answering, though, he pointed at the wound on his head. Oh.

“Wish I could give you a wild story of how I managed to hit my head. But truth is, I don’t remember. It’s like with those hashtags. Woke up like this, you know?”

I stared at him. Was he fucking with me? I’ve seen the tv shows where people lost their memory, but was that a thing that happened in reality?

“I’m sorry,” I said dumbly. He squeezed my neck gently in response. Damn, he looked good. He wore a white t-shirt and white pants. He looked like hospital staff. Just, you know, tan and buff. A bit like the way I had been, but after a month of wasting away, I guess I wasn’t much to look at anymore.

He squatted down next to me, so we were eye to eye.

“But you know what’s really crazy? Whatever happened to me to bring me here, I’m happy right now.” He smiled brightly again. I lifted the corner of my mouth a bit, trying to catch a bit of John’s positivity, but as usual, my smile fell flat and I just stared at my useless, blanketed legs. My hands balled to fists in my lap and I closed my eyes, relishing John’s safe hold on my neck. To my disappointment, he let go and moved his hand down to mine. He gripped my fist and slowly pried it open, so he could intertwine his fingers in mine. I let him.

“I’m happy and I know you can be too,” he said.

I felt a tear flow down my cheek and I couldn’t hold back my raw emotions anymore. I sobbed and started to cry. He tugged me toward him and embraced my upper body until my face was pressed to his and I could feel his breath on my damp cheeks. He held me softly as I cried my heart out.

When the flood inside me began to ebb, I sniffed and stuttered against his face. “You know, when I was still whole, I was gay. I would have loved for a man like you to take an interest in me.”

He laughed softly. “You are still whole. And what do you mean, you were gay? Aren’t you anymore?”

“I’m paralyzed from the waist down. I’m of no use anymore,” I said flatly. The tears were gone and in their place was just plain cold acceptance. I was sure he’d pull away now and focus his attention on somebody else. Someone who wasn’t as broken as me.

 

He pulled my chin up, bringing our eyes in line again. “I don’t remember anything about my life, but I do remember that I am gay. And I like you. That’s all that matters.”

He lifted his hand to my cheek, swiping his thumb through my tear tracks. I caught his hand with mine, pressing his warm skin against my face, enjoying his closeness for another minute.

“Where do you wanna go next?”, he said. I looked at the way the sunlight reflected in his red beard. I could tell from the hair on his arms that he was red all over his body. I envied any man who got to be with John.  

“My room,” I said.

He brought his lips close to my face and gave me a peck on my cheek. I was stunned and turned my head towards him, but my lips only caught the corner of his mouth as he drew back. But he wasn’t chasing for more. It was just a gentle peck and smile to lift me up.

“Your room it is.”

+++

The nurse hadn’t said anything when John brought me back to my room and even helped me onto my bed. He got me a glass of water and sat down on a chair beside me. I’d been sorting my ‘Magic’ collector’s cards on the small table on my bed to kill time between my examinations. He looked at me for permission and I nodded, so he picked up a couple of cards.

“Those look cool. Monsters and wizards and other stuff.  Can you actually play with those?”

You could. I showed him how to play them, but I could see that the intricate rules of this particular game were a bit hard to follow for him. His eyes grew heavy and when I asked him if he wanted to go to his own room and sleep, he declined sleepily and said he just needed to rest his eyes a bit. So he fell asleep in the chair next to my bed and I used the opportunity to look at him. He was beautiful. He must have been in his late 30s or early 40s, because I could see lines around his eyes and mouth. He looked peaceful in his sleep though. If this weren’t a hospital, I would have offered to let him sleep next to me on my bed.

I wasn’t tired, though, so I picked up my cell and looked at the many new Whatsapp messages I’d received in the meantime. Most of them were from my mom, trying to cheer me up. She had been with me during the first two weeks, but as my dad also needed caring, she had to leave once the docs were sure that the worst of the surgeries were behind me. I wasn’t too keen on the group messages from my circle of gay friends, many of whom I just knew as acquaintances. They didn’t all know about my accident and were discussing things as if life hadn’t just stopped for me.  One of the messages caught my eye. Frank had posted a porn clip with the comment ‘Too bad this hottie apparently died recently’. The thumbnail looked weird to me. I turned the volume to zero and clicked on it. It was a clip from twitter that opened to a scene of a bald muscle hunk bottoming to various men, with the title ‘Who wants to go next?’.

I stared stupidly at the short clip of the guy lying on his back with his feet in the air, allowing guy after guy to have a go at his ass. All bareback of course, as it was done in porn these days. The bottom guy suddenly looked at the camera and smiled – and my phone slipped from my hand and dropped to the floor with a loud bang.

John sat forward in a rush, disorientation clouding his eyes, until he remembered where he was. We stared at each other and finally he smiled.

“You dropped your phone again.” He bent down and fetched it for me. The screen had gone black after the fall, thank heavens.

“Thank you.” I still stared at him, my mouth gaping open.

“I love that you seem to have a thing for dropping your phone. It means I have a reason to stick around, right?”

“You want to stick around? With me?”, I asked, dumbfounded. He smiled that flashing smile again, the same one I’d just seen on my cell screen.

“Sure, if you’ll have me.” He bent forward and kissed the corner of my mouth again. “Want something to drink?”

I nodded and he got up and went for the door. “Wait”, I said. He turned around, waiting for me to say something. His bulging arms rested against the door frame in a relaxed stance.

“When you said, you were happy now. What exactly did you mean?” I stuttered. I hated how I couldn’t get my voice under control when I was nervous.

He looked at me for the longest time, before he said, “I wasn’t in a happy place. Before. It’s not a memory, actually, more a feeling. Like a shadow. Here, I feel useful. I’m making friends. I feel like I make a difference. Hank, the nurse who works on neurology even said, I could go to nursing school or something. That is, if they ever find out my identity, so I can get my paperwork and stuff. Right now, I’m nobody.”

I smiled. “You’re not nobody. Do you want to have your old life back?”

“No.” His response was so fast that he could not have thought about the question. “No, I don’t want my old life back. But what I want is a new beginning.” He smiled at me and left to fetch us some water.

A new beginning was something I could use too, I figured. I clutched my phone tightly and pressed the button to power it down.

“Well then, to new beginnings, John.” I whispered and smiled.  And this time, for real.

A reader's sorrow

The sound of a music box was all he heard.

He knew he was just a character in a book. Knew he was sitting on the doomed marble stairs of a long gone empire in ancient times, the remains of its former glory crumbling under his feet.

But he also knew he was handsome and many readers had stopped at his image to stare at his masculine beauty. The shiny chest in the billowing toga, the strong legs with leather strings criss-crossing his ankles.

He was a hero too. A fighter of dragons, rescuer of damsels and he occasionally entertained a lonely shepherd during cold winter nights. Not all of his endeavors were mentioned in the story.

Today, though, he was desperate. Staring through the pages at the man reading his book filled him with sorrow, for tears were streaming down the man’s beautiful face.

He knew the man. Had spent his youth with him, either sitting on a bookshelf or in the boy’s hands as he grew up.

The melancholy tunes of a nearby music box seemed to increase the man’s sadness.

When the man turned away from the hero to wipe his eyes on his sleeve, a thought occurred to him.

He never dared leave the steps that some artist hat created for him. Crumbling stairs that started at the bottom of the page and led to nowhere at the top. Old ivy grew along the edge of the stone. The hero stood leaning against a stone arch that led to green fields and forests beyond. He never did take that leap into the unknown, never left the comforting safety of the book’s cream colored pages. He couldn’t imagine himself among the colorful and huge things that the human world consisted of.

And yet he knew that comforting the crying man was more important than contemplating his own insecurities.

The hero balled his hands into fists and took a leap off the illustration and felt himself falling through countless letters and white, billowing clouds.

At the end of his fall, he found himself standing outside his book, looking down at the opened page with his ancient stairs on it. There wasn’t a hero on the painting, though, for he was standing in the human world now, his body of flesh and his toga of linen. He was behind the crying human who had not yet noticed the change on the page he was reading.

Taking a sudden breath into his lungs like a diver emerging from the sea, the hero startled the reader and saw the man jerk away from his book, facing him first with fear and then with resignation on his face, as if he was certain the reaper was coming for him.

The hero opened his arms and waited for the man to come to him. Watching him with fearful eyes, the man finally flung himself into his arms and let him caress his back, as sobs shook his body.

The man’s lips moved against his chest, warm puffs of air telling him the story behind the man’s sadness.

The hero nodded and kissed the top of his head. 

He knew nothing of the world of humans, but he knew pain and tragedy.

Slowly folding away from the man, he took his hands and spoke to  him softly before turning to the open book with him.

The music box stopped playing, as the book lay open on the floor. The opened page still showed the ancient stairs overgrown with ivy, but the stone arch on the platform beneath now sheltered the hero in a lover’s embrace with the man he had saved. The man he would spend his story with - until their happy end.

Prompt: Dragon Fighter Returns

1 scene - emphasis on the background atmosphere - the actual plot is only a sex scene

A dark inn at a valley crossroads. The dense forest protects the humans against the dragons, flying overhead and living on the mountain passes. As huge as these creatures are, they don't prey on humans, but their bodies crush them when they get too close and their wings when flying produce dangerous storms in the valleys. The number of dragons has increased and people are worried.

One night, during a dragon storm, the inn door opens to a huge brooding warrior. He's one of few Dragon Warriors - humans who track down dragon's nests and destroy eggs to keep the population in check. He refuses questions and requests a warm meal, a bath and a bed for the night. And he requests the handsome stable boy to spend the night with. As the innkeeper is scared to death of the recent developments, she sends her son up with hot water to tend to their guest.

The stable boy tells the warrior that he wants to be a dragon fighter someday and the fighter reveals a few secrets of his trade - while seducing the handsome boy during a sponge bath - while the dragon's screams are heard over the roof of the inn, scaring the inhabitants of the remote place to death.

Nightfall - Chapter X Intimacy

I must have slept deeply for the first time in ages, because I never realized when my arm slid over his waist, my hand resting on his  belly. I woke up, feeling his back flush against my chest. He radiated heat under the thin blanket, which was just the effect we both had hoped to gain with this sleeping arrangement. I willed my fingers to stay still, certain that I had caressed his belly button in my sleep, a habit I had formed with Kyle. Stopping the motion, however, seemed to have given myself away.

He knew I wasn't sleeping anymore. I felt his chest rise and fall beneath my arm, so I flexed my biceps to take some of my weight off his side.

Griff grunted and slid on his back, the narrow cot leaving me no space but to stay on my side with my arm draped over his chest. My chin rested on his shoulder and my breath tickled his nape. He smelled of fresh sweat and something comforting that I couldn't name in my drowsy state. I'd probably call it 'home', if I wasn't so far from it that I knew a home wasn't something I'd ever have again. 

He moved his hand and rested it on my forearm, his fingers playing with my hairs there. It felt peaceful. I continued caressing his belly lazily, the way I had done in my sleep. I could feel his skin under that soft down of hair, a thin layer covering his lithe muscles. He wasn't built like me, but there was no denying the strength in his body. It was awkward lying there like lovers, caressing each other's bodies. I heard him breathe in deeply, his mouth opening for a yawn.

"You awake?", he whispered, turning his face to me. His cheek touched my forehead and he stayed there.
"Hmm," I hummed softly, not willing to let him know I was in fact wide awake and waiting for him to freak out. He couldn't ignore this, whatever it was we did there. It went way beyond two buddies sharing a bunk to conserve heat.

When he stayed silent and left his head on my side, his lips only inches from mine, I closed my eyes tightly and felt a single tear run down my cheek. I wanted to lose myself in this feeling of shared comfort, because I was sure I would never feel this way again.

Even if this was all I would get, I'd cherish it until the day I died. I slid my arm higher, resting my hand on his heart. His hand stayed on mine, his fingers wrapped lightly around my wrist, as I pressed him closer to me, pretending I was fast asleep. It didn't take long until I dreamed again. And to my surprise, my dreams were not dark and despairing, but hopeful. I wasn't alone in them, even though I could never shake the loss of my one true love that still haunted me whenever I closed my eyes.

Nightfall - Chapter 1 (revised)

I realized I was asleep.

And by that I didn't mean in the sense of dreaming. It was rather a feeling of numb existence where there had been a black void only moments before.

Another thought entered my mind. A smile. Blue eyes.

I strained to sharpen the image in my head, but sharp pain erupting from deep within my chest startled me. I struggled to breathe, gasping like a fish out of water and panicking even more when my arms and legs failed to move just as miserably.

By the time I was able to string together several thoughts the pain had become unbearable and forced my consciousness back into a void where the absence of pain embraced me. My last thought was a voice calling out for someone.

'Connor'. I realized now why that name felt familiar. That someone was me.





"Chief Davidson? Can you hear me?"

A ray of light pierced the darkness. Someone was holding my eyelid open, flashing my pupil with a torch. My head ached something fierce and every ray of light felt like a dagger driving deep into my brain.

Had I been shot again? There was no mistaking that sterile smell and the subdued voices. I was in a hospital.

The light kept hovering above my eyes. My fingers twitched with the need to knock that bastard out cold, but I couldn't get my arm to move. I heard myself gasp from the effort. Was I paralyzed? A jolt of fear shot through my body.

"He's moving. He's coming back." Someone grabbed my hand, rubbing it to increase the blood flow. I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. Or a whole dozen of them. The neurons in my brain sparked to life, bringing everything back in a rush.

The journey to Nightfall. Kyle. Trappist-One.

"His vitals are stabilizing," someone said with the calm assurance that only medical staff can muster.

"Chief Davidson?” A slap on my cheek caused me to groan in pain, but that touch was nothing compared to the pain I felt in my throat when I tried to swallow.

I raised my hand. Slow, everything I did was slow, I realized with a stab of shame. My fingers escaped the hand that circled them. What the hell. Had they thawed me out of a block of ice?

Another second ticked by and I remembered. Kryosleep.

I had no idea how it worked in detail, but I was pretty sure the torment I went through waking up wasn’t part of the deal.

Relief swept over me when that jerk in white stopped flashing my eyes. I contracted my arm muscles and was rewarded with the feeling of touch in the pads of my fingers. Awaking from kryosleep did actually feel like coming back to life. As my nervous system adjusted to a responding body, my mind wandered to Kyle. Had he felt the same torment waking up? My newly-revived heart skipped a beat when I thought of the scalding pain that felt so much worse than even the gunshot wound I had taken back when I was a dumb recruit in the wastelands of New London.

I needed to find Kyle. My eyesight was still shot to shit and I felt like running a marathon just trying to crane my neck a bit. I blinked the shapes hovering above me into shape. A face appeared, accompanied by a hand with raised fingers waving back and forth in front of my eyes. It took me a moment to realize that the lady asked me a question.

"How many fingers do you see?", she repeated. My throat was still on fire, but I found a strange pleasure in raising my hand and extending three fingers, mimicking her motion.

"He'll be fine, but for the first couple of hours, someone needs to look after him, make sure his brain functions are stable."

I heard rustling beside me. I blinked and forced my eyes open despite the glaring light from the spots above the examining table. My skin was slippery, as if I'd been bathing in slime.

A male voice spoke up.
"The descent will begin in 30 minutes. These unforeseen complications with his wakeup process already delayed our approach by three hours. We'll lose today's window if we don't act now."

The doc sighed. "You know we'll have to seal sickbay until landing is complete. His vitals need to be monitored or he might not survive the dive!"

This wasn't the kind of conversation a guy wants to hear waking up from kryosleep.

"He'll have to bite the bullet then. Further treatment needs to wait until we're planetside. Understood?" I heard footsteps leaving the room.

I grabbed the white clothed arm beside me, startling the lady doctor.
"Chief Davidson?", she gently removed my fingers from her coat. I blinked at her, moving my lips, failing to make a sound.
"Connor, don't worry. Everything will be fine." She began to wipe my skin with a cloth, removing the liquid I was covered in. I stopped her, grabbing her arm once again and pulling her closer to my face.

"My... room mate. He'll look after me," I wheezed, surprised how fragile my own voice sounded. The doc lifted her head and looked at me with a frown.

"You sure? Is he medically trained?" My mind was still too dizzy to respond, but my eyes followed her as she walked over to the side, picking up a tablet and typing away with her fingers. She moved to the intercom surface by the door and pressed a button.

"Open line to quarter 34," she said. A beeping sound confirmed the connection, right before a male voice responded.

"Officer Harrison here. How can I help ya, doc?"

"Please report to sickbay immediately."

The voice I heard wasn't Kyle's. My brain was still in shambles, but the one thing I felt confident about was that I would recognize Kyle's voice anywhere.




My nervous system was still playing tricks on me. First my skin felt warm, then a wave of coldness made me shudder. I was relieved by the time my skin simply itched and the need to scratch myself actually motivated me enough to move my hands and arms.

A hand on my shoulder had me look up, the rush of excitement in my blood a sure thing I was getting my senses back. But the brown eyes I looked into weren't familiar. The smile was handsome, but it wasn't Kyle's.

"Hey Chief. Glad you're among the living now. Doc says it's time for you to get ready for a little rough ride down to Nightfall."

I couldn't place the voice. 

Someone put a sticker on my temple and flattened it . I winced at the pressure.
"This," the doctor put a small black device into the stranger's hands, "will scan his brainwaves. You need to make sure the readings remain in the green area. If they move to red, call me."

Everyone was in a rush now. I saw a nurse approach the examining table, finishing the job of cleaning me up and putting some sweatpants on my naked body.

"What if the readings go bad during the descent?" the stranger asked. The doc sighed before helping the nurse lift me to a sitting position. I could feel the blood rush from my head, leaving me dizzy and blanching like a ghost. Awesome.

"Then we gotta hope he's still alive by the time we're down. The Commander won't wait for another day."

I forced my eyes to stay still, willing the world to stop moving. I pressed my eyelids together to focus, when a strong arm gripped my shoulder and pulled me off the table. My knees were like jelly and my weight bore down on the man's smaller frame.

"What if he loses consciousness during the dive?", he asked, his voice straining with the effort to keep me upright.

"He will lose his consciousness, Officer Harris. Be grateful if you don't. ."

The doc sounded impatient now. "You need to get him to your quarters and secure him for landing."

Everyone looked up when a computer voice began announcing a countdown until the ship entered the planet's exosphere . 15 minutes. Hardly enough time for me to reach my quarter and get secured, let alone to look for Kyle. I was reluctant to admit that I was scared and helpless while everyone around me seemed to lose their shit.

Testing my legs sent a jolt of pain through my thigh muscles and I gripped the man’s shoulder.
"Easy big guy, I've got you," he said and more dragged than walked me out of sickbay.

The lights in the corridor had gone red and blinking. I strained my body to help with the walk, but the pain in my muscles was unbearable. I was barely conscious when we entered a small room and my companion lowered me into a seat pulled from the metal wall. He strapped me into the safety belts and pulled them tight. I groaned.

"Sorry, man. But you don't want to slip out during landfall. There's no runway down there waiting for us."

The computer voice gave a final warning. 1 minute left. I grabbed the guy's arm and looked into his face. Beads of sweat clustered his forehead and his eyes were cast down on the medic reader in his hand. He looked back at me with a forced smile.

"Looking good, Chief. You'll make it down in one piece, I promise" He pried his arm away from my fingers and stumbled to his seat on the opposite side of the room. We faced each other. I watched him secure the belts around himself and lean back just in time for the ship to make contact with the planet's gravity field.

A jolt went through the ship and the metal frame of our quarter began to shake.
My seat belt cut into my chest and I struggled to breathe. I looked at the window where the planet's curve lit up in an orange halo.

The shaking got even stronger now, like riding a mountain bike over a field of rocks. My head banged against the wall behind me and I couldn't keep my neck upright enough to counterbalance the staccato of jolts. My new friend looked at his reader, then back at me, giving me a thumbs up.

The metal screamed around me and the world faded away. I found my mind wandering back to the only question that mattered. Where was Kyle?

***

The landing was messy. Our pilot did one hell of a job, though, keeping the craft calm even when hail the size of tennis balls banged against our quarter window while crossing a cloud.

The shuddering of the hull had stopped. I glanced over at Chief Harrison. His head hung on his chest, his body suspended in the belts like a ragdoll’s going with the motions. The brain wave thingy still beeped calmly, the reader staying within the green limits. Apparently everything was fine, even if the man looked white as a ghost. His torso swayed back and forth, a sheen of sweat making his skin glow in the flashing safety light.

I noticed mountain peaks outside our window. We were approaching touchdown any minute. I heard the thrusters being fired, slowing our descent to airplane speed. It couldn't be long now.

Harrison groaned. Judging by his size and built, he certainly wasn't a guy who was used to his body playing tricks on him.

The thrusters finally slowed the ship to touchdown speed and the wheels were extended for immediate landing. A jolt went through the hull, the vessel swaying when one of the axes kissed a rock, veering the ship to the side. The pilot fired the thrusters again, ripping off the ship’s wheels and the velocity jarring us over the surface until we came to a screeching halt.

I raised my hand and winced at the growing bruise on my head. What a welcome.

Not waiting for the blinking lights to die, I unfastened my belt and knelt down in front of Harrison. The belt had chafed his skin raw, a trickle of blood flowing down his chest. I cursed myself for putting him in that thing without a shirt on, but the thought hadn't even crossed my mind only minutes before the descent.

I opened the belt and his large frame fell into my arms. He smelled of sweat mixed with the remnants of neuronal fluid. I managed to manhandle him to lie down on his cot.
Checking the reader I noticed that the screen had gone black.

"Shit! Chief Harrison, can you hear me?" I tapped his shoulder and shook him . "I think you need to wake up, sir!"

He groaned, a frown on his face, as he raised his arms to wipe at his eyes. I wasn't sure if he was in pain or just exhausted after that clusterfuck of a landing.

"My name is Officer Griff Hansen, sir. You're in your quarter and I need to make sure you're conscious."

His eyelids fluttered and closed. Damn, that wasn't good, right?
I took his chin in my hand, startling him. His eyes locked with mine.

"Where’s Kyle," he said and grabbed my arm with surprising strength, moving himself into sitting position. Who the hell was Kyle?

I was grateful when the intercom announced an incoming call.
"Chief Harrison, gather a security team and report at the airlock for further instructions." Sub-Commander Davidson's impatient voice.

Harrison watched me with a frown, his fingers digging into my forearm. I made the decision in the blink of an eye.

"Understood, sir. End of call", I pried Harrison's fingers off my wrist. "Open a line to sickbay," I ordered over my shoulder.

Doctor Martinez’ voice sounded tense. "How is he doing?" .

"He seems confused. Can you take over now?"
The doc confirmed and I patted Harrison's shoulder, pushing him back down.

"Why don't you rest a bit. I'll take care of things until you're ready, sir." . His gaze followed me to the door. I stopped for a beat to look back at him, his eyes still locked on mine.

"And then we'll go find Kyle, alright?"
He nodded and I left the room, the sliding door closing behind me.

***

"Richard, I can't keep a lid on it any longer. She's filing a lawsuit right this minute!"

I pressed the cell so hard against my ear, I was sure it'd come back in pieces. "You gotta shut her up for good, Phil."

I could imagine Phil's face. The wimp. "I'll just pretend you didn't say that," he said.

"You're my lawyer, Phil, and I expect you to keep that shit under control," I hissed, aware that people were staring at me from across the room at the McArthur Space Center in Pensacola. I couldn’t afford to attract attention. 

"Damn right, I'm your lawyer, Rich. And in that capacity I'd advise you to finally take the command of the Nightfall mission." Phil lowered his voice. "And as your friend, I'd tell you to get your ass outta here better sooner than later. She's instigated a fucking FBI investigation. If she vanishes now, you'd be the prime suspect in any case. So don't even think about it."

I rubbed my eyes, the strain of the previous months weighing me down. I looked around the room. There wasn't a sofa or even a plastic chair to rest my ass on. Damn NASA and their cheap suits.

"The Nightfall mission is a one way ticket, Phil. If I sign on, I'll spend the rest of my life with a bunch of sci-fi nerds on a shithole planet that doesn't even have a beach."

Phil seemed to ponder that for a moment. "Last I heard, there's a huge ocean on Nightfall, so you'd probably find someplace nice if you looked hard enough."

He didn't take me seriously.

"The planet doesn't have a sun, Phil," I commented drily. 

"That's bullshit. Trappist-1 is a sun. Even I know that," . 

I heard him shuffle paper in the background. Apparently he considered the official side of our conversation over.

"It's a fucking red dwarf, you asshole!" I yelled into the cell. People were turning their heads at me. I raised the back of my hand to wipe sweat off my temple.

"I'm not gonna spend the rest of my life in a place without daylight, dammit!", I added, lowering my voice again.

Phil sighed. "You're the space expert, Rich. All I can tell you is, take the mission and be a legend to billions of people, leading mankind to a new planet. Or stay, and rot in prison. Let me know what it'll be." A beeping tone told me that Phil had ended the call without waiting for my response.

The little shit. I couldn't believe this was happening. Replaying Phil's words in my mind, my choice seemed to be easy. Still, I felt as if I had to put a signature under my own death warrant this time. 

Hansen didn't wear his uniform when he showed up at the airlock, finding me, my entire command team and a couple of scientists waiting there.

"This is the security team Harrison has gathered?", I asked . "One man? Where's Harrison?"

Hansen looked at me, fumbling his arms in a half-hearted salute.
"Chief Harrison is still recovering from kryosleep, Sir. He instructed me to lead the team." My impassive face unsettled him. I liked that.

"So, where's your team, then?" I said and turned my back on him, instructing my second-in-command to fetch the oxygen masks .

I was aware that Officers Jackson and Riley were with us, but I enjoyed watching Hansen's confusion, before he spotted them and gave them orders . He wasn't doing too bad. I had to give him that.

I liked my security fearless and flexible, which was the reason why I had hand-picked them for this mission. Hansen hadn't been my first choice, though, so I wasn't sure about his value to my crew.

Nightfall - Chapter 1

I suddenly realized I was asleep.

And by that I didn't mean in the sense of realizing I was dreaming. It was rather a feeling of numb existence where there had been a black void only moments before.

Minutes or was it hours later, another thought entered my struggling mind. A smile. Blue eyes.
I strained my sleep-dulled mind to sharpen the blurry image in my head, but a sharp pain erupting from deep within my chest startled me, the sudden fire in my throat the only thing that existed in my world. I tried to breathe, my lungs not responding to my will, gasping like a fish out of water and panicking even more when I tried to move my arms and legs and failed just as miserably.
The fire in my core consumed me and where I had felt the soft gaze of handsome eyes on me, now a different kind of pressure weighed me down, pressing my body into whatever surface I was resting on.

My mind processed all this slowly, like watching the world from inside a jar of honey. By the time I was able to string together several thoughts, the pain had become unbearable and forced my consciousness back into a void where the blissful absence of pain embraced me like an old friend. The last thought in my mind was a voice desperately calling out for someone.
'Connor'. I realized why that name felt familiar. That someone was me.




"Chief Davidson? Can you hear me?"

A ray of blinding light pierced the darkness. Someone's thumb was holding my eyelid open, flashing my pupil again and again with a small torch. My head ached something fierce and every ray of light felt like a dagger driving deep into my brain.
Had I been shot again? There was no mistaking that sterile smell and the subdued voices and beeps. I was in a hospital.

The light kept hovering above my opened eyes. My fingers twitched with the need to knock that bastard out cold, but I couldn't get my arm to move. I heard myself gasp from the effort it took me to find out that I was still a lifeless corpse. Was I paralyzed? A jolt of fear shot through my body and cold sweat formed on my temple.

"He's moving. He's coming back." Someone grabbed my hand, rubbing it to increase the bloodflow in my numb muscles. I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. Or a whole dozen of them. The neurons in my brain suddenly sparked to life, bringing everything back in a rush, making me wish for the sweet oblivion I used to sleep in until now.

I remembered.  The journey to Nightfall. Kyle. His dream of starting a new life there after we finished babysitting a bunch of whiny scientists on what they called an exploration, but which was in fact the foundation of mankinds' first colony on an inhabitable exoplanet. Trappist-One. The mysterious red dwarf with its seven planets, that are forever locked to face their star on one side, while the other rests in eternal darkness, possibly under a blanket of thick ice.
It had sounded like hell to me. But I didn't care. I remembered Kyle's excitement. His hopes.

"His vitals are stabilizing. His temperature is reaching standard levels and his brain waves are finally maxing," someone said with the calm assurance that only medical staff can muster.
"Chief Davidson? Wake up." A soft slap on my cheek caused me to groan in pain, but that slap was nothing compared to the pain I felt in my throat when I tried to swallow down the spit in my mouth.

I raised my hand. Slow, everything I did and thought was too slow, I realized with a stab of shame. My fingers escaped the warm hand that circled them in frantic motions. What the hell. Did they thaw me out of a block of ice?
Another second ticked by and I remembered someone talking to me. I remembered listening carefully and feeling slightly intimidated by what I was told. Kryosleep.

Sure, you couldn't travel to a solar system some 40 light years away and expect to be there by lunch time. The journey took 60 years at a speed that was as close to light speed as mankind could ever get, unless a bunch of well-meaning aliens would treat us to their technological secrets. So if you didn't want to reach Nightfall as a 90 year old geezer, you went into kryosleep. I had no idea how it worked in detail. I wasn't one of these doctors slash gods in white. But I did listen when they explained the procedure to me. Though I swear to whatever god would listen on Nightfall, not one of them mentioned the terrible pain I felt waking up.

Right now I felt like a demon straight out of hell. Relief swept over me when that jerk in white stopped flashing my eyes with blinding light. I contracted my arm muscles and was rewarded with the feeling of touch in the pads of my fingers. Awaking from kryosleep did actually feel like coming back to life. As my nervous system adjusted to having a responding body again, my mind wandered to Kyle. Had he felt the same torment waking up? My newly-revived heart skipped a beat when I thought of the scalding pain that felt so much worse than even the gunshot wound I had taken back when I was a dumb, reckless recruit in the wastelands of New London.

I needed to find Kyle. My eyesight was still shot to shit and I felt like running a marathon just trying to crane my neck a bit. I blinked the blurry shapes hovering above me into shape. A worried face appeared, accompanied by a hand with raised fingers waving back and forth in front of my eyes. It took me a moment to realize that the lady asked me a question.

"How many fingers do you see?", she repeated. My throat was still on fire, but I found a strange pleasure in raising my hand and extending three fingers, mimicking her motion. Her gaze softened when she saw the cocky smile on my face.

"He'll be fine. Give him some time to put himself together, but for the first couple of hours, someone needs to look after him, make sure his brain functions are stable."

I heard rustling beside me. I couldn't tell how many people were in the room with me. I blinked and forced my eyes open despite the glaring light from the spots above the examining table. My skin felt strangely slippery, as if I'd been bathing in slime.

A male voice spoke up.
"The descent will begin in 30 minutes. These unforeseen complications with his wakeup process already delayed our approach on Nightfall by three hours. We'll lose today's window if we don't act now"
The doc sighed. "You know we'll have to seal sickbay until landing is complete. His vitals need to be monitored or he might not survive the dive to the planet's surface!"

This wasn't the kind of conversation a guy wants to hear waking up from kryosleep when his body still feels like a car wreck.

"He'll have to bite the bullet then. Further treatment needs to wait until we're planetside. Understood?" I heard footsteps leaving the room, followed by an annoyed sigh.

I felt some rustling next to me and grabbed a white clothed arm.
"Chief Davidson?", she looked worried, gently removing my fingers from her coat. I blinked at her, moving my lips, but not making any sound.
"Connor, don't worry. Everything will be fine." She began to wipe my skin with a soft cloth, removing the weird liquid I was covered in. I was grateful to feel each swipe of the cloth on my skin. It made me feel alive where I've been a numb piece of meat only minutes before.
I stopped her by grabbing her arm once again and pulling her closer to my face. She finally understood my intention and put her ear close to my lips, a few loose strands of hair tickling my cheeks.

"My... room mate. He'll look after me," I wheezed, surprised how fragile my own voice sounded. The doc lifted her head and looked at me with a frown.

"You sure? Is he medically trained?" My mind was still too dizzy to respond, but my eyes followed her as she walked over to the side, picking up a tablet and typing away with her fingers. She moved to the intercom surface by the door and pressed a button.

"Open line to quarter 34," she said. A soft beeping sound confirmed the connection, right before a male voice responded.
"Officer Harrison here. How can I help ya, doc?"
"Please report to sickbay immediately," the doc sounded a bit wary. But not as wary as I felt when I realized that the voice I heard clearly wasn't Kyle's. My brain was still in shambles, but the one thing I felt confident about was that I would recognize Kyle's voice anywhere.


My nervous system was still playing tricks on me. First my skin felt warm, then a wave of coldness made me shudder. I wasn't sure if I was glad or not by the time my skin simply itched and the need to scratch myself actually motivated me enough to move my hands and arms. When the door opened and someone walked in, I was too preoccupied to notice the newcomer.

A hand on my shoulder had me look up, the rush of excitement in my blood a sure thing I was slowly getting my senses back. But the brown eyes I looked into weren't familiar. The apprehensive smile was handsome, but it wasn't Kyle's.

"Hey Chief. Glad you're among the living now. Doc says it's time for you to get ready for a little rough ride down to Nightfall."
I couldn't place the voice. Even the accent sounded foreign to me. Who was he?

Someone put a sticker on my temple and flattened it with a thumb and forefinger. I winced at the unwelcome pressure.
"This," she put a small black device into the stranger's hands, "will scan his brainwaves. You need to make sure the readings remain in the green area. If they move to red, call me."

Everyone was in a rush now. I saw a new nurse approach the examining table, finishing the job of cleaning me up and putting some white sweatpants on my naked body.

"What if the readings go bad during the descent? We're not exactly safe to walk around then," the stranger asked. The doc sighed heavily before helping the nurse lift me to a sitting position. The world suddenly swayed and my eyes couldn't focus. I could feel the blood rush from my head, leaving me dizzy and blanching like a ghost. Awesome.

"Then we gotta hope he's still alive by the time we're down. The Commander won't wait for another day."
I forced my eyes to stay still, willing the world to stop moving. When I sighed heavily, pressing my eyelids together to focus, a strong arm gripped my shoulder and pulled me off the table. My knees were like jelly and my full weight bore down on the man's smaller frame.

"What if he loses consciousness during the dive? Would that be dangerous for him?", he asked, his voice straining with the effort to keep me upright.
"He will lose his consciousness, Officer Harris. Be grateful if you don't. But as long as the readings are fine, he should be able to make it without slipping into a coma."

The doc sounded impatient now. "Listen, I'm sorry to put this responsibility on you, but you need to get him to your quarters and secure him for landing. I have to clear sickbay."

Everyone looked up when a computer voice began announcing a countdown until the ship entered the planet's exosphere and the pull of its gravity field. 15 minutes. Hardly enough time for me to reach my quarter and get secured, let alone to look for Kyle. Where the hell was he? I was reluctant to admit that I was  scared and I hated to feel helpless while everyone around me seemed to lose their shit.

I tested my legs and felt a jolt of pain when I used my thigh muscles to lift a bit of my weight off the man's shoulder.
"Easy big guy, I've got you," he said and more dragged than walked me out of sickbay.

The lights in the corridor had gone dark red and blinking. I strained my body to help with the walk, but the pain in my unused muscles was unbearable. I was barely conscious when we entered a quarter and he lowered me into an extractable seat that was pulled from the metal wall. I felt my companion strap me into the safety belts, securing them closely to my body, pushing the breath out of my lungs. I groaned.
"Sorry, man. But you don't wanna slip out of them during landfall. Unfortunately there's no runway down there waiting for us."

The computer voice gave a final warning. 1 minute left. I grabbed the guy's arm and looked at his face. Beads of sweat clustered his forehead and his eyes were cast down on the medic reader in his hand. He looked back at me, tiny wrinkles forming around his eyes when he forced himself to smile.

"Looking good, chief. You'll make it down in one piece, I promise" He gently pried his arm away from my fingers and stumbled to his seat on the opposite side of the room. We faced each other. I watched him secure the belts around his body and lean back just in time for the ship to make contact with the planet's upper atmosphere.

A jolt went through the ship and the metal frame of our quarter began to shake desperately, as if the whole spacecraft was putting up a fight against the particles of the exosphere.

My seatbelt cut into my chest painfully and I struggled to breathe. A few minutes later, the window showing the planet's gentle curve lit up in a soft orange flame, indicating that the density of the atmosphere was increasing, creating a shock wave of frictional heat in front of the ship that the heat shields had to deflect efficiently, thus creating a soft orange halo around its hull.

The shaking got even stronger now, like riding a mountainbike over a field of spiky rocks. My head banged again and again against the wall behind me and I couldn't keep my neck upright steadily enough to counterbalance the staccato of jolts. I finally gave up and let my head drop to my chest, my mind surrendering to whatever would happen to us on this damn ship. The last thing I remembered was my companion looking at his reader, then back at me and giving me a thumbs up.

The world faded away and while the straining metal screamed around me, I found my mind wandering back to the only question that mattered. Where the hell was Kyle?

***

The landing was messy. The Aquarius descended in a steep angle to make good use of the planetary winds that were remarkably strong this close to the terminator line. We had to catch our designated landing site right there in order to be able to get off the ship without either freezing or burning to death. Besides, reaching the dark side of the planet would freeze up the ship's boosters, making it impossible to start over and try again. Our pilot did one hell of a job, though, keeping the craft calm even when hail the size of tennis balls banged against our quarter window while crossing a cloud.

The terrible shuddering of the hull had stopped now. I glanced over at Chief Harrison. His head hung low on his chest, his body suspended in the belts like a lifeless ragdoll going with the motions. The brain wave thingy in my hand still beeped calmly, the reader staying within the green limits. Apparently everything was fine, even if the man looked white as a ghost. He only wore sweatpants and his muscular torso swayed back and forth, a sheen of sweat making his skin glow in the eerie red light that reminded us all of the dangerous descent. As if we weren't nervous enough as it is.

I noticed gray shapes outside our window and mistook them for clouds, but squeezing my eyes to adjust them to the twilight of Nightfall, I noticed that they were mountain peaks that we passed during our descent. We were approaching touchdown any minute. I heard the thrusters being fired, slowing down our flight to airplane speed. We were now gliding on the wind rather than forcefully breaking through the dense atmosphere. I swallowed and took a deep breath. It couldn't be long now.

Harrison groaned again and I was tempted to unbuckle my seatbelt to make sure he was alright. I didn't know the guy but I hated to see him like this. Judging by his size and built, he certainly wasn't a guy who was used to his body playing tricks on him. A strange thought occurred to me. Was it weird to share quarters with my superior? I guessed so. But then, I wouldn't have expected to get a chance to be on this mission anyway. Now here I was, millions of miles away from home and ready for a new start, like every soul on this ship.

My thoughts were brutally interrupted when the thrusters finally slowed the ship to touchdown speed and the wheels were being extended for immediate landing. A sudden jolt went through the ship and the metal screeched desperately, the whole vessel swaying dangerously as one of the axes kissed a rock, veering the ship to the side. The pilot apparently fired the thrusters again, taking the ship off the ground before touching down  again with what I could only describe as a bang, ripping off the ships wheels and setting the vessel on the rocky ground violently, the velocity jarring us over the surface for what felt like minutes until we came to a screeching halt.
I raised my hand and winced when I touched a growing bruise on my skull. I must have banged my head on the metal wall behind me. I cursed the damn planet already. What a welcome.

If anything, the pioneers could have picked up the rocks near the landing site. It's not like they didn't know we were coming. They had 80 fucking years to do it.

Not waiting for the blinking lights to die, I unfastened my belt and knelt down in front of Harrison's groaning body. He was bleeding on his chest. The belt had chafed his skin raw. I cursed myself for putting him in that thing without a shirt on, but the thought hadn't even crossed my mind when the doc basically threw the guy on me only minutes before the descent.

I opened the belts and his large frame fell into my arms. He smelled strangely of sweat mixed with the neuronal fluid that we had all awakened in. His body was heavily muscled and tall, but I managed to manhandle him and get him to lie down on his cot. I held the back of his head to prevent him from banging it until he was fully spread on the surface.

Unsure what to do next, I looked at the reader I was still carrying and noticed that it wasn't showing anything on its tiny screen. Looking up at Harrison's face I saw that the white plaster carrying the transmitters had peeled off his skin and was hanging in the dark hair above his ears.

"Shit! Chief Harrison, can you hear me?" I tapped his shoulder and shook him softly. "I think you need to wake up, sir!"
He groaned, a deep frown on his face, as he raised his arms to cover his eyes. "Kyle?", he moaned. I wasn't sure if he was in pain or just exhausted after that clusterfuck of a landing.
"My name is Officer Griff Hansen, sir. You're in your quarter and I need to make sure you're conscious, until the doc is ready to look at you."

His eyelids fluttered and closed. Damn, that wasn't good, right?
I took his chin in my hand and moved his face towards me, startling him. His eyes locked with mine. He seemed to be able to focus, although he looked more confused than ever.
"Get Kyle...", he said, grabbing my arm with surprising strength, trying to move himself into a sitting position. Kyle? Who the hell was Kyle?

I looked at him blankly and was grateful when a beep at the intercom announced an incoming call. I spoke up to accept it.
"Chief Harrison, gather a security team and report at the airlock for further instructions." Sub-Commander Davidson's impatient voice.
Harrison watched me with frantic eyes, his fingers digging into my forearm. He looked a bit like a lunatic with his beard shadow growing in and his mouth gaping open with unspoken questions. I made the decision in the blink of an eye.

"Understood, sir. End of call", I said and pried Harrison's fingers off my wrist. "Open a line to sickbay," I ordered over my shoulder.
Two soft beeping sounds later, Doctor Martinez was on the line. "How is he doing?" Always right to the point. I liked her.
"He seems confused. I need to rally a team for Davidson. Can you take over now?"
The doc confirmed and I patted Harrison's naked shoulder, pushing him gently back down.
"Why don't you rest a bit. I'll take care of things until you're ready, sir." He looked back at me, his brown eyes calm and his demeanor collected. His gaze followed me as I got up and walked through the door to the corridor, just stopping for a beat to look back at him, his eyes still locked on mine.

"And then we'll go find Kyle, alright?", I said. He nodded and I left the room, the sliding door closing silently behind me.

***

"Richard, I can't keep a lid on it any longer. She's filing a lawsuit right this minute!"
I pressed the cell so hard against my ear, I was sure it'd come back in pieces. "You gotta shut her up for good, Phil."

I could imagine Phil's shocked face. The wimp. "I'll just pretend you didn't say that," he said.
"You're my lawyer, Phil, and I expect you to keep that shit under control," I hissed, suddenly aware that people were staring at me from across the room at the McArthur Space Center in Pensacola. 

"Damn right, I'm your lawyer, Rich. And in that capacity I'd advise you to finally take the command of the Nightfall mission," Phil said. He lowered his voice. "And as your friend, I'd tell you to get your ass outta here better sooner than later. She's instigated a fucking FBI investigation. If she vanishes now, you'd be the prime suspect in any case. So don't even think about it."

I rubbed my eyes, the strain of the previous months weighing me down. I looked around the room. There wasn't a sofa or even a plastic chair to rest my ass on. Damn NASA and their cheap suits.

"The Nightfall mission is a one way ticket, Phil. If I sign on, I'll spend the rest of my life with a bunch of sci-fi nerds on a shithole planet that doesn't even have a decent beach."

Phil seemed to ponder that for a moment. "Last I heard, there's a huge ocean on Nightfall, so you'd probably find someplace nice if you looked hard enough."
I couldn't believe it. He didn't take me seriously.

"The place doesn't even have a sun, Phil," I commented drily. "Can you imagine a beach without sun?"
"That's bullshit. Trappist-1 is a sun. Even I know that," he said, a little too quickly. I heard him shuffle paper in the background. Apparently he considered the official side of our conversation over.

"It's a fucking red dwarf, you asshole!" I yelled into the cell. People were turning their heads at me. I raised the back of my hand to wipe the beading sweat off my temple.

"I'm not gonna spend the rest of my life in a place without daylight, dammit!", I added, lowering my voice again.

Phil sighed. "You're the space expert, Rich. All I can tell you is, take the mission and be a legend to billions of people, leading mankind to a new planet. Or stay, and rot in prison. Let me know what it'll be." A beeping tone told me that Phil had ended the call without waiting for my response.

The little shit. I couldn't believe this was happening. Replaying Phil's words in my mind, my choice seemed to be easy. Still, I felt as if I had to put a signature under my own death warrant this time. 


Hansen didn't even wear his uniform when he showed up at the airlock, finding me, my entire command team and a couple of scientists waiting there.

"This is the security team Harrison has gathered?", I asked sarcastically. "One man? Where's Harrison?"

Hansen looked at me, unsure if he was supposed to salute to me or not. He finally straightened his back and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Chief Harrison is still recovering from kryosleep, Sir. He instructed me to lead the team this time." He looked at me, trying to read my impassive face.

"So, where's your team, then?" I said and turned my back on him, instructing Marcia Wilson, my second in command to fetch the oxygen masks we were gonna need outside until our lungs accustomed to the lower oxygen partial pressure in Nightfall's atmosphere.

I was well aware that Officers Jackson and Riley were with us in the room, but I liked watching Hansen's confusion, right before he spotted them and gave them orders about the next steps. He wasn't doing too bad. I had to give him that.

I liked my security fearless and largely flexible, which was the reason why I had hand-picked them carefully for this mission. Hansen wasn't my first choice, though, so I wasn't sure about his value to my crew. 

The Prelude

"And this is the bathroom. The tiles were redone in 2014. I quite like the modern design and the simplistic choice of color in this one", I gestured at the ugly black and white tiles that turned a rather average bathroom into a chamber of horrors just waiting for some bloodshed. Why couldn't any of these damn flats just be okay? There was always some catch that made them a hard sale. I was so tired of this shit.

Five years of pretending to be a real estate agent had really weighed me down. It was just the random sale every now and then that kept me financially afloat. People did need to live someplace after all, and I was selling apartments. Sure deal, right? At least I thought so when I started this phenomenal waste of time. Shaking off my thoughts, my eyes caught on the shower and the greenish mold spreading around the silicone seal. Damn!

I flashed my brightest smile, hoping to divert my clients' searching eyes by putting myself right in front of the mold-infested shower stall. Fidgeting with the top button of my white business shirt, I puffed out my wide chest and beckoned the two guys into the small room. Sure, I might have been San Diego's worst real estate agent, but I'd be damned if I couldn't sell this shithole to a gay couple who were staring at my lips like two kids on a hot day waiting to get ice cream from a street vendor.

Stan, the shorter of the two, looked around the room, while Hank, the tall, lanky one, smiled at me and winked. Great. I tried my best not to roll my eyes.

"The tiles look like a chess board. And there's no window." Stan slipped an index finger across a tile and rubbed it against his thumb, apparently gauging the amount of dust. Okay, I could take a hint. Time to move on.

"Let's check out the bedroom, the view there is amazing!" I walked out of the bathroom and down the hall, Hank following at my heels.

"The view sure is amazing, Brian," Hank drawled. I couldn't believe that guy. Flirting with me right in front of his man. I swallowed and led Hank into the bedroom, ignoring the way his hand bumped into my hip in passing. Involuntarily, of course. Not.

The bedroom wasn't too bad. Bright and cozy with a dark redwood floor and large windows overlooking a park. The street was right below, but looking out from this floor, all you could see were trees. If they didn't ask me to open the windows, I might actually score a point with this one.

Stan walked around the king sized bed, staring at the bare mattress and out the high windows. Yeah, I knew an apartment would be easier to sell if there was furniture and decoration, instead of showing people around bare rooms, but hey, I wasn't selling in the Kardashian's price range, so I hoped the guys would give me a break.

"The view is nice," Stan conceded. He walked closer to the bed and bumped against it with his shin. Testing its sturdiness? Please just take the damn flat already.

"I bet that bed can easily hold three guys, right?" Hank walked forward and leered at me, clearly checking me out. God, really?

"I wouldn't know," I said, my smile slipping the more Stan joined his boyfriend in that awkward staring contest at my crotch.

"I bet you would, Steve Hunter. After all, we are fans." Hank walked over and slipped his hand around my waist, pushing me softly toward the bed. My porn name had me frozen to the spot. I had hoped that after five years of retirement my fame would have vanished, but apparently I was still famous enough for two horny guys to go as far as apartment hunting just to get me into a bedroom. Suddenly I wished this flat hadn't even come with a bed.

I shook my head and pushed the hand away. "Not gonna happen, guys."

"Come on, why not? We got lube and condoms right here and it's not like we're gonna mess up any sheets, right," Hank laughed and pointed at the blank bed, running his fingers along my naked forearm. "And we might be interested in this place after all, right Stan?"

Stan smirked and rolled his eyes. "Sure thing. You do come highly recommended, you know?"

I hated this. Even more so as it wasn't the first time. The longer I worked in real estate the more I ran into clients who expected something intimate on top of a lease contract for their new apartment. 'Oh, try O'Leary Real Estate if you want to fuck a porn star'. Made me feel like a rent boy. Made me feel like a whore. I had hoped those days were behind me. I closed my eyes, trying to think.

I jumped as my cell vibrated in my pant pocket, shortly before a soft chirping announced an incoming call. Saved by the bell.

Removing myself from Hank's roaming fingers I turned toward the windows.

"O'Leary," I answered the call, frowning at an unknown number on my private cell.

Silence, then the soft sound of a woman clearing her throat. "Bry? Is that you?"

"Sarah?" Way to go, man. I hadn't talked to the only woman I ever shared my bed with in years and all I managed was her name? "How... how are you?," I added, then words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Is Evan alright?"

Sarah sniffed. "Evan is fine. He's... he applied at Berkeley. And got accepted."

I blinked, trying to find the mindset to discuss my son's education in front of two horny clients. Day of my life.

I didn't know much about academia, but Berkeley wasn't a no name university. My chest swelled with pride knowing my son was apparently smart enough for a college like that.

"That's... great news," I said quietly, all too aware of two sets of curious eyes staring at my back.

"Wait until you hear how much the tuition will be," she said carefully.

Stan and Hank startled behind me when I repeated the figure, almost yelling at my phone in disbelief. Stan cleared his throat.
"Don't tell me someone offered you that amount of cash for this dump here," he laughed and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Sarah, this is a bad time. I.. I'll think of something. I don't have that cash right now. Not even close," I whispered. I wanted to think I knew the disappointed glance that I was sure Sarah was sporting on her end of the line, but fact was I hadn't seen her in the last 15 years. Still, I knew I had let her down again, judging by her sigh. I swallowed hard. "I'll think of something, okay?"

Clicking my phone off, I turned back to Hank and Stan, who looked at me expectantly. Hank was already kneeling on the mattress, while Stan still worked to get out of his shirt.

I ground my teeth together. "You really gonna take the apartment if we do this?"

"Sure thing, dude. Now come over here." I followed Hank's beckoning hand and let him draw me closer by my belt. Bending me forward, he claimed my mouth in a wet kiss, raking his hand through my short hair. A warm weight against my back and a hand opening my shirt buttons one by one reminded me that Stan was still with us. I felt four hands roaming lower to work my belt, Hanks lips traveling down the trimmed hair on my gym-shaped chest, his tongue circling my nipple. I closed my eyes and let both guys play me, the way countless guys had before them. Teeth still grinding together, I just wanted to cry.

***

The apartment felt empty and cold. It wasn't really different to any other day, but I felt especially lonely as I came home after my successful sale. At least they had signed the lease when we were done. That was more than I could have hoped for. I stepped into the hallway and shrugged out of my leather jacket. Only a couple of buttons holding my shirt in place around my chest, I shrugged out of it and dropped it on the floor. Yeah, I knew. Laundry ain't a bachelor's best friend. My jacket had thankfully prevented the shirt from falling off on my way home, as I hadn't wanted to spend any more time around Hank and Stan than necessary to seal the deal. The smell of two different aftershaves on my body reminded me of what I had just done. Again. I pinched the bridge of my nose and leaned against the hallway wall.

I needed the damn money. Not just for Evan's tuition. I also needed to pay rent and cover my own expenses like everybody else did. Just that everybody else didn't hover on the tight line between gainful employment and being a hooker. How did other people do it?

With a college degree and a set of references. I could basically hear my mother drilling her wisdom into my teenaged self. Not that I ever listened to her. I didn't hold a grudge against her when she stopped speaking with me after the porn thing got out. Still I wished I had someone to rant about shit - and I figured that was what a mother was about. Or a boyfriend. Not that I had any of those.

I didn't bother to put on a shirt again and strolled to the kitchen for a beer. The fridge was well supplied with alcohol, if nothing else. I considered hitting the gym after all, not really wanting to break my training schedule. Reading the label of the beer bottle in my hand, I shrugged the notion off and walked back to my couch, my socked feet ghosting silently over the cheap linoleum floor. I just wanted this day to end, not drag it on. The laptop still sat opened on the couch table and it just took a swipe of my finger to awaken it. I couldn't wait to mark that cursed flat as sold and remove it from my listing, but first I wanted to check my finances. Logging into my bank accounts, I wasn't surprised to see that my cash account had shriveled down to a minus balance yet again. It wasn't by much, but it was still a rather saddening sight, given it was only the middle of the month. Today's sale would even things out again so I wasn't bothered. Switching to my savings accounts, I stared at the 80 grand sitting there. Money I had accrued for Evan's tuition. It used to be so much more. Porn had paid off well and a stab of guilt reminded me that I could once have covered the full tuition at Berkeley that he needed now, but fate had had different plans and forced me to take money out of the account to cover my own expenses. Ashamed, I pulled the laptop shut and shrank back on the couch. The cold beer tasted stale on my tongue and I noticed that it wasn't the only taste still lingering there. I should probably brush my teeth.

A tentative knock on the door had me turn my head towards the entrance. I wasn't in the mood for visitors tonight. Especially not Miguel and his persevering stamina. I was 38 years old after all and just had to satisfy two guys. Another soft knock on the door. Damn, I felt like an ass.

"Come in. It's open," I called out and sighed to myself, knocking back a large swallow of beer.

My hot young neighbor sticking his head inside my door was actually the most pleasant sight of the day. I relaxed with a smile and lifted my bottle in greeting. "Miguel, handsome! Mi casa et su casa, have a beer."

I tensed up when Miguel didn't react to my tired flirting and wordlessly walked over, dropping on the couch beside me. "What's wrong?" I sat up and put my arm on his shoulder, his dark tattooed skin smooth under my callous fingertips. He didn't look at me, watching his own hands instead as he tugged on his fingers one by one. We've known each other quite a while. It was nice to have a cute young guy next door to be friendly with after work. I didn't mind the occasional hot sex either. And judging from the moaning sounds I sometimes heard through the wall, I didn't have to worry about him getting too attached to me. Besides, Miguel and I shared a rather sad secret that probably deepened our friendship on a level that I wouldn't have tolerated otherwise. I didn't usually do the big brother act with my younger lovers, but Miguel's shaking hands had me draw him in for a hug. He sniffed against my ear. "What's going on, man?", I whispered.

He sniffed again, drawing back from my embrace. "You smell like sex," he said and wrinkled his nose, then smiled. "I hope it was good." His Mexican accent was more pronounced when he was unsettled like this.

"I sold a flat," I shrugged in answer, rubbing his back in a slow circle. I realized he was stalling.
"Are you feeling alright?"

He shook his head, his black hair falling into his eyes. He was a damn hot Latino and usually knew it, but he seriously scared me now, all pale and shivering. "Is it the meds?", I prodded gently.

He looked up at me with huge brown eyes. I watched him sniff again. He rubbed his eyes on the long sleeve of his pullover and I felt cheap sitting shirtless next to him.

"I had to change the combo again after only three months. And it still doesn't work. I feel like shit, man," he said quietly. So different to the usual banter we exchanged. "It's the second time I had to change. What if I run out of options?" His lips trembled and I felt his fingers close tightly over mine, holding on for dear life, it seemed. "I don't wanna die, Brian?" His eyes sparkled.

I had never seen him cry. So the tear slipping out of the corner of his eye, rolling down his tanned but unusually pale cheek surprised me. I drew him into a hug again and he melted against me, sobbing loudly, tear drops wet on my naked chest. "I'm sure it'll be alright. We'll go to the clinic right away and fix this. They'll check your blood and then the doc will decide how to continue."

He sobbed again and I did something I never did with him before. I kissed his head, his soft hair tickling my lips. "I had a shitty time myself until I adjusted. My first combo, I thought I'd die. The second one wasn't as bad, but it still took me three months to get used to it. It's been working for 4 years now. It'll be the same for you," I soothed him.

He stilled and I let him sit back. "What if not?" I could see his fear clearly in his eyes.

"What if you walk out that door and get run over by a bus? You can't ask 'what if' or you'll stop living, Miguel." I slapped his cheek playfully and smiled at him. "Come on, get your meds and we're off to the clinic. I just need to take a shower, okay?"

Miguel watched me, obviously mesmerized by the colorful design tattooed on my chest. When he looked up he said, "Thank you. For coming with me."

I patted his knee and stood up. "You're welcome. That's what friends are for."

"You're my friend," he said quickly and he sounded so much like a scared child that I wanted to hug him again. But Miguel was 28 years old. HIV wasn't the end of his life, even if it was a nuisance sometimes. I knew he would make it. And I'd be there for him when he needed me, hoping he'd do the same for me.



In the bathroom, I dropped my pants and socks and stepped into the shower feeling like someone who actually had a purpose in life. I smiled sadly to myself. The first real smile on a day that had already gone down the drain.

***

The clinic wasn't exactly buzzing with activity. This time of night, it was only emergency cases such as Miguel who were accepted. The usual crowd of worried party boys in need of a test after a night of wild and risky sex was luckily absent. I couldn't stand the stupidity of these guys. As if they would get a solid result after only a few hours. Still, they kept clogging up the waiting lines at the clinic while real HIV patients with health issues had to wait hours to be seen. A full health insurance was one reason why I had to take money out of Evan's account. There was a time when I actually thought I'd die, while the faces of mindless pretty boys stared at me in the waiting rooms, probably even recognizing my face. A health insurance meant I could see a doctor in a more private setting. Miguel wasn't as lucky, so I waited at the clinic next to him, letting him drop his head on my shoulder while we waited and glad that the usual day crowd was absent.

"I met someone. He knows." Miguel's words caught me by surprise. I turned my head, my mouth in his hair now.

"That's great. Congratulations. You going steady?", I whispered and squeezed his shoulder. He nodded.

"I think so. I've never had a boyfriend. I don't wanna mess up," he whispered back.

"You won't. If you really like him, he's worth it." He was silent, waiting for more adult wisdom from me. "And I'll be your friend, even if we don't do the bedroom tango anymore. You know that," I said slowly, not sure what he wanted to hear.

He raised his head from my shoulder and looked at me, his eyes searching for something on my face. After a second, he smiled and pressed a quick kiss on my lips.

"I didn't know, but thank you. It means a lot." He rested his head again on me and tightened my grip on his shoulder, drawing him nearer.

"Are you ever lonely?", he asked suddenly.

I shrugged. "You know, I'm rarely lonely."

I felt his chest rumble in a soft laugh. "I mean, between tricks. When you're by yourself."

I was glad he couldn't see the frown on my face. "Who isn't? It's not like I have much to offer to a boyfriend. And I don't want some porn freak who wants me to re-enact my old scenes with him."

"I think you have a lot to offer," he said and fell silent for a long time until I felt him take a deep breath.

"Why did you sleep with your clients today?", he asked. It felt like a dagger being driven into my side. I winced. It wasn't that I was ashamed of doing it. I never felt ashamed for having sex. It was just the fact that it sometimes felt like people bought me that unsettled me.

"They said they'd take the flat if I did. I needed the money," I sighed. "And what a shitty thing to say."

"Why are you doing real estate? You keep saying how much you hate it, but it's all you've done ever since I know you. Why not do what you really like. Like your gym stuff?" he said. I wasn't used to having a grown-up conversation with him. We never felt the need to talk much. He knocked. I opened and we soon found more pleasurable ways to fill our mouths than idle chatter. I never knew Miguel had given that much thought about my life or that he knew I was a fitness freak who liked bodybuilding - and not just to ogle the hot guys at the gym. I actually loved the health aspect and the dieting. It was one reason I was in such good shape despite my diagnosis.

"When I stopped doing porn, I did get employed at a gym. You're right, I was quite good at it. But some guys knew me and requested other services on the side. When my boss got wind of it, he fired me. That's why I decided to go into self-employment. Real estate sounded good at the time."

"Just that it sounds like the same thing is happening again. Except that there's no boss who could fire you for it." Miguel's voice sounded sad, which irritated me. Was he worried about me? Or did he think I was a whore? I wasn't a whore. I just did what needed to be done so I could meet my responsibilities.

"I know. Fact is, I need the money. Evan's college tuition is coming up and I don't know what else to do." I bit my tongue. Shit. Why couldn't Miguel just sleep on my shoulder until he was called in? I just gave away more of myself than any guy ever got from me before.

"Evan? Who is Evan?", Miguel said, lifting his head, curiosity clear on his face.

"He's my son," I said and looked at the empty chairs on the opposite side of the waiting room. I had never told Miguel about my family or my life before my nebulous porn fame. It suddenly seemed like I had lied to him for so long, simply by omitting something that wasn't his business to begin with.

"Wow," he looked at me like he suddenly saw a new person where his fuck buddy had been. "And you're paying for his tuition? Isn't that like a shitload of money?"

"Uh-hu. You got that right," I murmured and was relieved when he put his head back on my shoulder. He didn't freak out over my fatherhood at least.

"Does the real estate gig make enough money for that?," he finally asked.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "Not even close."

"So what are you gonna do?"

I shrugged my shoulder, careful not to disturb him with the motion.

"Will you return to porn?" The question surprised me. I hadn't ever considered it, not after the way I left porn. But I knew that with the rise of bareback porn, even HIV+ guys were getting work in the business, as long as their t-cell counts were okay. At least I hoped that the companies cared about such shit and not willingly endangered their negative performers by pairing them with guys like me.

"I don't know. Do you think I'd still have a chance?"

Miguel's laugh rumbled through his chest. "You gotta be kidding me. You'd be a rising star."

I smirked at his enthusiasm. "We'll see."

I looked up when a doctor emerged from one of the closed doors and approached us, a worn out look on his face. I couldn't blame him.

"Mr Rodriguez?"

Miguel sat up and looked at me. I squeezed his hand. "You need me to come with?"

He shook his head and followed the doctor into his office. I folded my arms in front of my chest and relaxed back into my chair. The clock said 9 p.m. My eyelids were starting to get heavy, despite my knees jiggling restlessly. I hoped Miguel would be alright. I didn't have many friends, just fuck buddies, but I felt like I could need friends now more than ever. Slipping my cell out of my pocket, I started to scroll through my contacts, most of which I only kept saved so I could block the numbers. Grindr was damn convenient to scratch an itch, but it also left me with lots of contacts I didn't want a repeat with.

I wasn't sure if I had deleted it long ago, but after a couple of minutes I found the number I was looking for. Staring at my phone for what felt like an hour, I clicked back to my home screen and waited patiently for Miguel to return.