Disclaimer: You're in an archive of gay stories, so it shouldn't be too much of a surprise to learn that this story is about men doing things with one another which some people may find objectionable. If you're one of these people, then don't say you haven't been warned.

Also if you're below the age where you can read such things legally, or if you live in a repressive regime that frowns upon its citizens exercising their free will, then you too have been warned.

It's fiction, it's not real, it didn't happen.

The story is copyright, all rights are reserved. The Nifty Archive has been granted permission to host the story under the terms of its submission agreement, but no unauthorized copying or re-hosting is permitted without the consent of the author.

Dedication: This story is dedicated to the real Joe. I wish I could make it come true for you, my pocket-sized Pennsylvanian pal.

Acknowledgements: I wish to thank fellow author and good friend Tim Mead for his help with editing and the correct use of American English. Also Jack Scribe and Terry O'Reilly for their help and assistance.


ROTC RON

By

Drew Hunt

Advanced Philosophy was such a fucking drag. It had sounded so interesting on the college schedule, but no one had told Joe the professor had all the teaching skills of a dead sheep.

The only bright spot was Ron, a totally gorgeous hunk who sat opposite him during class discussions. Joe knew from the camouflage jacket that Ron always wore, plus his confident demeanor, that the stud was in the ROTC. Even though the guy was 5 feet four inches tall, Ron just had a presence: a natural leadership ability that made him appear much taller. Secretly, the five feet even Joe often called him Napoleon, desperately wishing he could be his Josephine.

"Now, Mr. Barnes, perhaps you could enlighten us on why Kant disagrees with this proposal?"

Joe felt more than saw every eye in the room turn to him. He squirmed, realizing he'd been caught daydreaming about the square-jawed hunk sitting opposite, rather than paying attention to the discussion going on around him.

Joe glanced down at his notebook and read 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder'. He had no idea why he'd written that. Was it a comment about his feelings toward Ron?

"Mr. Barnes?" the professor asked, scratching his beard.

Joe would never know what possessed him to do what he did next. Fixing his gaze directly at Ron, Joe said, "Kant argues, first of all that such a belief can't account for our experience of beauty itself, insofar as the tendency is always to see 'beauty' as if it were somehow in the object or the immediate experience of that object."

Tearing his eyes away from his idea of beauty for a moment, Joe saw everyone looking at him eagerly, so he assumed he was somewhat on the right track.

"And second, Kant believes that such a relativist view doesn't account for the social 'behavior' of our claims about what we find beautiful."

Joe felt himself warming to his theme. He resisted the urge to stand up, walk round the table and encourage Ron to get to his feet so he could point out to the members of the class a perfect example of true beauty.

"Kant introduces the idea of the 'free play' of the cognitive faculties, understanding and imagination, as well as the related idea of communicability. In the case of the judgment of the beautiful, these faculties no longer simply work together, as they do in ordinary sensible cognition, but rather each 'furthers' or 'quickens' the other in a kind of self-contained and self-perpetuating cascade of thought and feeling."

The room lapsed into total silence. Joe's eyes dropped to his notebook, staring fixedly at the almost blank page. He began to quake inwardly, what the hell had he done.

"Well, um, yes. That about covers it. Thank you Mr. Barnes." Joe was unable to read the tone in the professor's voice. Normally Joe would rarely venture an opinion in class, being too shy and unsure of himself to speak up.

"I think that about wraps things up for today, ladies and gentlemen. Please remember that your next assignment is due at the end of next week."

With that the room quickly emptied of students, Joe being the last to leave. As he trudged down the halls, totally unaware of the mass of students milling around him, Joe was deeply regretting his outburst. Sure he was gay; he never made any pretensions about hiding the fact. But not hiding, and indulging in such a public display of, well, lust, were two very different things.

* * * * *


The semester rolled along. Joe would eat lunch alone, then go sit in the library and study until his next class. If anyone stopped him in the halls he would talk to them in his soft quiet voice, but he'd rarely initiate a conversation or prolong one that someone else had started.

However, Joe now had a spring in his step, a reason to get out of bed in the mornings and haul his ass to class. That reason, of course, was Ron.

Almost unintentionally Joe began to wear the same kind of clothes his idol wore. Baggy carpenter jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and construction boots. Joe didn't own a camouflage jacket, and was reticent to go buy one. Though he would often look longingly at them in the store windows, his imagination working overtime as it conjured up images of him and Ron wedged snugly in a foxhole, with a battle going on around them. "Wouldn't have to be a large foxhole," Joe said to himself. "In fact the smaller, the cozier we'd be."

Whenever Ron would make a point in class discussions, the usually quiet and shy Joe would often speak up and support the point Ron had made. But that was as far as it went. Joe couldn't break his self-imposed rule of not starting a conversation. He felt that if Ron did stop to chat with him, he'd do his best to throw off his usual reticence and engage him in conversation. Joe even did some research on the Reserve Officer Training Corps just in case it was needed.

But Ron never broke away from the coterie of sycophants, yes men and hangers on that always seemed to surround him. The closest Joe felt comfortable to joining in was to sit at the next table in the cafeteria, listening to the man himself holding court about the last round of maneuvers or strategy game that he'd taken part in.

Friday came round again, and Joe ambled off to his last class, Philosophy, and the utterly amazing Ron. As Prof Dead Sheep warmed to his theme, Joe's mind began to wander, as did his eyes.

"Epistemology. What is the nature of knowledge?" The prof paused.

Joe wondered if this was a rhetorical question or if it was meant to open a discussion. He didn't know, and judging by the silence, none of his fellow students did, either. Joe went back to the much more interesting task of sneaking glances at Ron's finely honed facial features.

"How do we come to know what we know?" the professor continued.

'I know Ron's looking even more hunky today. I wonder if he didn't have time to shave, or was it a deliberate attempt to woo the chicks?'

"What are the limits and scope of knowledge? How can we know that there are other minds, if we are able to? How can we know that there is an external world, if we know. . ?"

The rest of the professor's words floated away, or was it Joe who was floating? Floating on a cloud. He and Ron were sitting on a cloud, Ron lying with his noble head in Joe's lap as Joe ran his fingers through his lover's regulation high and tight. The feel, the soft texture of those short strands as they traveled under his fingertips. 'Oh Ron, Ron, be mine forever, let's elope so I can worship you, and. . .'

". . .Okay, class, thank you for your attention. I hope you all have a pleasant weekend."

'Huh?' Joe woke from his daydream and took a quick glance at his watch. It was a couple of minutes to three, 'Where the fuck did the time go?' Had he spent the entire hour focused on his fantasies?

Gathering his papers together, Joe put them in his backpack and left the classroom, his mind still amazed at how he'd managed to dream through an entire session. He'd have to see if he could get the notes from someone, but that would mean asking, initiating a conversation, Joe quailed at the thought.

As was his usual custom, Joe paid a visit to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. He was nothing if not consistent in his behavior, a fact he would soon learn someone else had bargained upon.

Closing his eyes as his piss stream began, Joe felt someone take hold of his wrists and pull them to his back. He then felt cold metal surround his wrists and heard a snap of a lock being closed.

"What the. . ." A hand was clamped over his mouth, muffling the rest of his words.

"Quiet," a breathy voice said in his ear. "You won't come to any harm if you do exactly what I tell you." Joe began to turn to see who it was. "No, keep your eyes front."

"Hum, um." Joe mumbled unintelligibly, and began to struggle.

"Quit wriggling, your piss is going everywhere," the voice said quietly in his ear. The sound was calm, unhurried, soothing.

But all his senses told Joe to fight, to run away.

"Joe, please don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

Somehow the words penetrated Joe's feverishly racing brain, and much to his surprise he began to relax. The rest of his stream flowed into the metal trough.

"Great, man. I'm gonna take my hand from your mouth now, will you promise that you won't shout out or attract attention? I promise again that you won't be harmed."

Joe considered the question. There was a certain element of kinky enjoyment mixed in with his fear. He slowly nodded his ascent and the hand was removed.

"Thank you, Joe." The voice still sounded odd, as if its owner was trying to disguise itself by talking gruffly. "Now, little one, I don't want you to be scared at this next part, but I'm going to put a blind-fold on you."

"No, please. . ." Joe instantly tensed and tried to turn around, but the hand went back to his mouth stopping him from twisting his head, while an arm wrapped around him to prevent the rest of his body from moving.

"Joe, don't fight me. I repeat what I said earlier. If you co-operate, you won't be harmed."

After a couple of moments of struggling, Joe slowly began to relax, and the man loosened his hold on him.

"You're being very brave, and trust me, this will be rewarded."

A strip of cloth fell over Joe's eyes, and was tightened at the back of his head.

"Doing great, bud. Really great." The voice never lost any of its calm reassurance.

Joe's mind, now it had had time to process things a little, began to wonder as to the identity of his 'attacker'. The guy was certainly strong, but from what he could tell, wasn't much taller than him.

Joe felt a hand, a warm, dry gentle hand, touch his dick. It stroked it a few times, presumably to allow any remaining urine to exit. Then after a couple of quick shakes, Joe felt his equipment being put away in his blue jeans. Once his fly was buttoned up, he felt a tender pat on his bulge. All of this diverted Joe's mind from its previous task of trying to identify his, for want of a better word, assailant.

"Now Joe, the adventure truly begins. I'm gonna lead you out of here and to the parking lot. Then we're gonna go on a long ride to somewhere real special. Somewhere where we can spend the weekend together."

Joe tensed.

"I don't want you to worry about a thing. It's all been taken care of. I've called the restaurant and told them you'll be, uh, tied up all weekend," the guy laughed softly at his joke.

Joe shivered; he'd always had fantasies of bondage, of being bound up with rope. Could, would this guy do that to him?

"I. . ." How did this man know where he worked, and. . . .

"I've been keeping an eye on you, my Joseph, watching you real close. Oh, almost forgot." Joe heard a zipper then a rustling. He felt something being draped over his shoulders. "It's to cover the handcuffs, we don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves."

Joe nodded uncertainly.

"Now we're finally ready," the voice said close to Joe's ear. "Don't make a fuss, and I promise you'll have the most wonderful weekend you could ever imagine. Draw attention to us, and I'll just release you and it'll be over before it's really begun. Capiche?"

"I'm scared, this is all. . ."

Joe's words were cut off by a pair of lips closing over his. A hand cupped the back of his head and pulled him in closer, increasing the pressure of the kiss. After a brief while, the hand and the lips were removed, leaving Joe reeling and breathless.

"That's just a taste of what's ahead for you if you are willing to co-operate."

"Oh wow. I. . . Uh." Joe couldn't remember the last time he'd been kissed so completely, so passionately, so. . ."

"You want this weekend to happen?"

"Uh, you promise not to hurt me, or. . ."

"I promise, babe."

'Did he say, babe?' Joe asked himself.

Joe felt the guy wrap an arm around his shoulders in companionable jock casual fashion.

"Okay, ready to do this?"

"Yes, I am," Joe said confidently.

"Great, you won't regret a thing, trust me, babe."

'Uh, there's that babe again.' Joe thought.

They exited the bathroom, his, whatever he was, guiding him along the now silent hallways. Although Joe couldn't see where he was going, he trusted this man to not walk him into any obstacles.

"Hi, Ron. I didn't think I'd seen you leave," a female voice said.

Joe's guide stopped walking.

"Uh, yeah. . ."

" Gillian," she added.

"I'm just heading out."

"Oh, right. Um, I hung around to see if you, um, wanted to do anything this weekend, and. . ."

"Sorry, but I've got something else planned."

"Oh, uh, right, another time, then." The voice sounded disappointed.

"Sure."

"Uh, is your friend okay?" Gillian asked.

"Yes thank you." Joe replied. He knew he ought to be embarrassed, but his thoughts were dominated by the fact that he was with Ron.

"Right, um, bye then." She said.

They resumed walking. Joe's mind was still a whirlwind of thoughts, images and lust-filled hopes. Ron, oh glory be, this was Ron. Why was he doing this? They'd barely spoken half a dozen words to each other outside of classroom discussions. Joe's reticence had never allowed him to approach Ron, and Ron's seeming indifference hadn't led to him initiating contact with Joe.

"So, now you know," Ron said, sounding a little deflated.

"Uh, yeah. But why?"

"Later, when we're in my truck, okay?"

Joe nodded, still unable to process why this awesome example of studly perfection was interested in a guy like him.

* * * * *

'He's got such an awesome bod,' Joe thought, licking his lips as he watched a naked Ron erecting their tent.

As soon as they'd arrived in their secluded camping spot somewhere in the Allegheny Mountains, Ron had insisted, demanded, they both be naked for the whole of their stay. Joe had complied willingly. With undisguised adoration, Joe watched as Ron, with fluid grace and dexterity, fit the poles of the tent together and draped the canvas over the frame. Though in truth Joe devoted most of his attention to Ron's semi-erect manhood as it swayed with its owner's movements. Ron was gloriously uncut. Joe knew he would have willingly hunted down and done serious harm to any doctor who had had the temerity to defile such a sacred object.

Joe had wanted to help Ron put up the tent and generally get things ready, but Ron had assumed his authority and pointed to a nearby tree and told Joe to go lean up against it and look pretty.

Joe had made the mistake of ignoring Ron's suggestion, and soon found himself lashed to the tree. The tying up had been sensual, involving lots of close bodily contact, not to mention frequent and often rather intimate gropes. Joe had wondered aloud how Ron had known about his fetish for bondage.

"Like I said in the truck, babe, you and me are kindred spirits. You're submissive, I'm dominant. You like someone else to be in control, and I like exercising that control. I could see it in your eyes when we first met that time during orientation, remember?

Joe cast his mind back to the first day of school, and recalled being encouraged to shake hands with everyone in his freshman class. "Yeah, I remember feeling all sort of warm and wobbly inside when our flesh touched."

Ron chuckled. "Warm and wobbly? And you an English major."

"Yeah, well," Joe said ducking his head.

"I know what you mean, though. I felt it too."

"Really?" Joe found that hard to believe. "So, why, um, why. . ."

"Why did I wait this long to explore our mutual attraction?"

"Yeah."

Ron didn't respond, he just returned to his task of wrapping a length of soft rope around Joe's right knee, constantly checking to make sure it wasn't too tight.

Seemingly satisfied with his handiwork, Ron leaned back on his haunches and looked up at Joe. "My family isn't accepting. It's not easy for me to even admit to myself that I like other guys. Whereas you, you're so out and proud, so blatant. Having rainbow bumper stickers on your car, that kind of thing. I could never be that brave."

Joe was touched by the brief glimpse of vulnerability Ron had allowed him to see.

"When you said what you said that time in Philosophy, God, that was the ultimate example of. . .well, it was a pretty clear come on."

"I don't know where I got the courage."

"I'm glad you did. It sorta got the ball rolling so to speak. I began to think that you were the type of guy I would be interested in. So I set up the ambush in the bathroom. Your willingness to trust me today was the final proof I needed. You showed me that you were worthy of being mine." There wasn't a trace of insincerity or mock posturing on Ron's face. Joe knew he'd meant every word he'd spoken.

Joe was elated at gaining acceptance, at being chosen, at having passed an unknown test.

"There, that should keep you out of mischief," Ron said testing the knots next to Joe's left elbow.

"You never told me how you knew I liked being tied up."

"I'd have thought that was obvious. I like tying people up. I've liked it ever since I was an eagle scout."

Joe pondered Ron's statement for a few moments before a light bulb went on in his head. "And as we're kindred spirits, then it follows that I would like being tied up."

"You're not just a pretty face, are ya?" Ron said cupping Joe's face in his hands and delivering a deep, toe curling, tongue raping kiss on Joe's mouth.

"Uh," Joe said, dizzy with passion. He was thankful for the rope that was wrapped around him, because he knew his legs had turned to jelly.

* * * *

"Almost finished, babe," Ron said, hammering another tent peg into the ground.

"Good, cause I need a pee."

Ron got a wicked gleam in his eye, making Joe wish he hadn't disclosed that piece of information.

"Oh, I wonder if I should leave you where you are then so you'll pee on yourself."

Joe closed his eyes and tried to banish the images that swam in his mind. Peeing himself was too reminiscent of his childhood when he couldn't hold his bladder until he could reach the bathroom, with the expected embarrassing spillage resulting.

"It's all right, babe," Ron whispered in Joe's ear. I'm not into water sports, either."

"Thanks," Joe said through a tightened throat. Ron really did care.

Ron made quick work of untying Joe from the tree. After rubbing his arms to restore circulation, he led Joe deeper into the cluster of trees where he could urinate.

"Um, I'm sorta pee shy." Joe admitted when his stream didn't start immediately.

"You didn't have any problem pissing back in the bathroom at college."

"No. Well, I didn't know you were there until I'd started."

Ron patiently coaxed Joe, getting him over his shyness. Within a couple of minutes Joe was able to relax sufficiently to let loose.

"There, feel better now?"

"Yeah, much." Joe said just before his stomach rumbled. He giggled at the noise.

"Sounds like I better feed you,." Ron said taking Joe's hand and leading him back into the clearing where their tent stood. "I thought about not bringing any food, and just have us live on what we could catch or harvest."

"Urr," Joe said making a face.

"But I relented, I knew this would probably be your first camping experience. And as I said before, I want it to be special. So I brought hot dogs, beans and some potatoes we can wrap in aluminum foil and put in the fire.

Joe's mouth began to water. "Sounds great. You gonna let me help, or am I gonna be tied up again?" He nodded in the direction of what he had come to regard as 'his tree'.

"It's up to you. What would you like to happen?"

Joe pondered the question, it was rather thrilling to be bound in those soft ropes, but equally he thought it would be fun to do something with Ron. "Um, I don't know. Anyway," he smiled at Ron, "You're supposed to be the one in charge, so it's your decision, not mine."

Ron smiled back. "Yeah, I suppose it is. Thanks, babe." Ron leaned forward and kissed Joe on the lips. "Come on then, you can help me gather things for the fire. Do you know what we'll need?"

"Uh, well, no, not really."

Ron nodded. "Okay, no problem." He took Joe's hand again and they went in search of dry firewood. As they walked, hands still joined, Joe's chest puffed out. All this, being here with Ron, his Ron, was so unreal, Joe feared he'd awaken any minute and it would all be a dream.

* * * * *

Joe leaned back and rubbed his stomach. Eating outdoors had been much more satisfying than he'd imagined. Looking up into the night sky, Joe marveled at how bright the moon and stars seemed to be. They shone much brighter than in the city.

"I didn't think for such a little guy, you'd be able to put away as much food as you did," Ron said, breaking the silence.

"I guess it's bein' outdoors that made me so hungry."

Just then Joe heard a noise which startled him.

"It's okay, babe, it was only an owl hooting."

"Uh, yeah." Joe wasn't used to being in the middle of nowhere like this. The frogs doing whatever they did was relaxing, but he was less sure of owls and other flying things. "Uh, there's no bears, mountain lions or anything like that is there?" Joe asked peering into the shadows.

"Relax. It's believed The mountain lions became extinct decades ago, and there's not much chance of us being visited by a black bear. Especially as I made sure to put away all of our food."

"Oh." Joe wasn't particularly reassured.

Ron gave Joe a tight hug. "If any big bad creature comes to get you, I'll scare 'em away."

Joe stared into Ron's eyes and was moved by the sincerity he saw there. "My hero."

"You don't think I'd bring you anywhere that wasn't safe, do ya?"

Joe relaxed. No, he knew Ron wouldn't allow him to be placed in danger. "Sorry, I'm just so used to city life, not this outback stuff."

"You're a lot safer here than in the city. Trust me, babe."

"Yeah." Joe knew that in the city, apart from in a very few gay bars, he and Ron wouldn't be able to hug one another so freely. Joe began to realize that being outdoors had its plus sides, too.

"I brought some marshmallows, you wanna toast 'em in the fire?" Ron asked.

A lazy satisfied grin spread across Joe's face. "Yeah, that'd be the perfect end to a perfect day."

"Who says the day's ended?" Ron said, tweaking one of Joe's nipples before getting up in search of his backpack.

Joe was thrilled when Ron fed him the marshmallow he'd toasted. Wanting to reciprocate, but fearing he'd upset Ron by doing so, resulting in him being tied up again, Joe hesitated. "Um, Ron, will you let me toast a marshmallow for you?"

Ron's face, lit by the glowing firelight, broke out into a wide grin. "If you wanna."

"Yeah, I really do. I never thought that toasting marshmallows on a stick could be so, so. . ."

"Romantic?"

Joe blushed and nodded.

"You're sweet, babe. I'd love it if you wanted to do that for me."

Joe did, and had a lot of fun doing so. He had even more fun licking up the pieces of marshmallow that stuck to Ron's lips and chin.

"I think it's time a certain midget of my acquaintance was in bed," Ron said, breaking the silence that had fallen, save for the sounds of the night creatures and the occasional crackle from the fire.

Joe yawned widely. He was feeling tired, but didn't want to move for fear it would break the magic spell that seemed to have been cast around them. "Aww, do I have to?" Joe said, sounding like a small child.

"Yep, buddy, you must."

Joe's heart started to beat faster. Unless Ron planned on tying him to a tree again, he'd get to spend the night with his ROTC idol in the close confines of his two-man tent. It wasn't the foxhole of some of his daydreams, it was much more comfortable than that.

"We've got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, and I want my boy fully rested. Though we might not go to sleep right away." Ron waggled his eyebrows, the suggestive gesture causing Joe's dick to spring instantly into full hardness.

Reaching down to touch himself, Joe said, "Oh?" He dare not hope for too much, he didn't know what Ron would be prepared to do, and if he were honest he wasn't sure he could go all the way with him so soon in their. . . Whatever it was that they had.

Joe's face must have disclosed his thoughts, because Ron said, "You okay with that? I wouldn't ever want to push you into something you weren't comfortable with."

Joe's cup of joy overflowed. Ron was exactly what he wanted, had prayed long and hard for. A man who was strong, would take control, but still sensitive enough not to force him to do things which he couldn't do. "Ron, you're amazing. You're so. . ." Joe's sudden outburst of tears made the rest of his words unintelligible.

"Hey, it's all right, it's all right." Ron rubbed circles on Joe's back to try and comfort him.

"I know it'll be all right. I know you won't ever hurt me. I know all that. These," Joe sniffed, "these are happy tears."

Ron pulled Joe closer, hugging him until he got a hold of his emotions. "Better now?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I just. . ."

"Hush, little one, there's no need for apologies. You, like me, have been starved of affection for a long time, and when it's offered to you, you kind of behave like a kid in a candy store."

Joe nodded, that was pretty much the sum of it.

"Come on, let's get you all snug and warm in bed. It's starting to get really cold out here."

Joe was led unresisting to the tent. His heart leapt when he saw that Ron had zipped two sleeping bags together, he'd be able to lie next to him all night, snuggled up close to him.

"I bet you use blankets rather than a thick comforter on your bed at home," Ron said, kneeling on the bed and pulling the zipper down at one side of the double sleeping bag.

"Uh, yeah, how'd you know that?"

"I figured you'd be the sort of guy who liked the weight of blankets on top of you, cause they feel more secure, more. . . snug."

Joe nodded; Ron really did seem to know everything about him.

"Blankets aren't very practical for camping, so you'll have to make do with these wool-lined sleeping bags."

"I think I'll cope," Joe said smiling broadly.

Once Joe had situated himself in the bed, Ron climbed in next to him and molded himself against him. Almost instantly Joe could feel Ron's body-heat warming him.

"So, babe, you wanna go to sleep or. . ." Ron left the sentence hanging.

"Um."

"Though you've allowed me to be in charge, as I said just now, I'm not gonna force you to do stuff you're not ready for. That's not my style."

Joe turned in Ron's embrace so they were face to face. "There's stuff in my past that. . . Well I'm not so proud of, and. . . I'll tell you about it another time. I don't wanna spoil anything tonight, okay?"

"You got it, babe."

"You're amazing, Ron, you're so fucking amazing."

"So are you."

Joe wanted to argue, say he was nothing special, but he knew Ron would disagree with him. He didn't want any disharmony to get in the way of what was turning out to be the most perfect evening of his life, so he kept mum.

"Tell me, what kind of things has that kinky mind of yours had us doing?"

Joe shivered. "What's happened today has gone way beyond anything I've ever dreamed of."

Ron kissed him again. "You're sweet."

Any compliment from his god, no matter how undeserved, made his heart swell. "Whenever I've read erotic stories on the net," Joe blushed at having revealed that he read such things, "I sorta get most turned on when the two guys mutually masturbate each other. Sure, the sucking, fucking and rubbing and all that is good, but," Joe shuddered. "Not many writers have their characters just jerk each other off. I think that's so hot."

Ron threw off the sleeping bag and took hold of Joe's manhood.

"Oh, God," Joe hissed. His cock had been as hard as steel ever since he'd climbed into bed.

"You close, babe?" Ron growled, which sent tingles down Joe's spine.

"Uh huh." Joe had to fight not to explode.

"Can't have that," Ron said shifting his hand to play with Joe's balls.

"Uh, Ron, can I, will you let me uh, touch you, too?"

"Sure, babe. You can do anything you want to me."

Joe tentatively reached out to take hold of Ron. He could feel the heat of the throbbing tumescence before he touched it. Ron was hard, so very hard, and slightly longer than him. The hardness was attenuated by a layer of silky smooth skin which Joe spent a couple of minutes running his fingertips along. Ron's penis was strong, hot, and. . . Joe was unable to process his thoughts logically, being so caught up in the enormity of what he was finally being allowed to do.

"This is what I've dreamed of. Touching you. Loving you, being with you.. . . Oh God, this is so fucking awesome."

"It's what I've been dreaming of doing to you, too," Ron said, quietly.

Joe's brain refused to compute the possibility that such a gorgeous stud like Ron could have held secret fantasies about a nobody like him. But he was unable to dwell on this because the physical stimuli he was getting from his groin and fingers overshadowed everything else. The rest of the universe ceased to exist, there was just him and his Ron, holding, stimulating, making love with and to each other.

It couldn't last forever, Joe wished it could, but he was too wound up to make it last. Joe bellowed out his passion, his joy at achieving release at his lover's hand. Arching his back, he fired copious ropes of semen into the air, only to have them land back on him, and presumably Ron too.

Once he'd recovered sufficiently to realize Ron hadn't yet climaxed, Joe redoubled his efforts, using one hand on the man's beautiful sword, and the other to tease Ron's balls in their hairless sac. Within moments Ron peaked, Joe wished the interior of the tent was illuminated, because he wanted to see what the man whom he would lay down his life for, looked like at the moment of release. He sent up a quick prayer asking to be allowed to witness such an event as soon, and as often, as possible.

The two came together and shared a long lingering kiss.

"You were awesome, babe," Ron said in Joe's ear.

"Not as awesome as you." Joe wanted to confess his undying love for the man holding him so tightly, but feared it would be too soon, and if Ron didn't share that love, Joe knew he would be devastated.

"You okay?" Ron asked, ending the silence that had fallen between them.

"Uh, yeah. Just a bit cold is all."

"Sorry, babe." Ron pulled up the sleeping bag, made sure it was zipped up at both sides, then spooned in behind Joe, pulling him tight into his chest. "Better now?"

"Much. Thank you. Thank you, well, for everything."

Joe felt Ron kiss the back of his neck. "No, thank you for holding a torch for me for this long. It means more than you could ever know."

"I didn't really have any choice, you were always so. . . so. . . Perfect, and up until today, totally unattainable."

"You've got me now, babe."

Joe wanted to ask for how long, but feared the answer. "Goodnight, my special dream man."

"Ditto for me, too."


* * * * *

"Come on, lazybones, it's time to rise and shine."

Joe turned away from the bright light shining in his eyes and groaned. He wasn't a morning person, and it was just his luck that Ron was.

"Joseph, out of that bed, now." Ron's voice, though still calm, held an edge to it Joe couldn't ignore.

"Can't I have a few more minutes?"

"Nope, it's already just after seven, and half the day's gone by already."

"Seven?" Joe couldn't remember the last time he'd seen 7:00 a.m.

"Don't say I didn't try the nice approach," Ron said pulling the sleeping bag, with Joe still in it, out of the tent into the bright but cold morning.

Joe curled himself into the warm folds of the sleeping bag, but Ron was relentless. With lightning speed Joe was unceremoniously dumped onto the damp grass.

"Ouch."

"Come on, sleepy head, it's time for your morning bathe."

"Huh? I don't want a bath." Joe knew there were no bathrooms around their camping spot.

"Come on you mucky midget. Your going for a dip in the pool." Ron threw Joe over his shoulder.

"NO! Put me down. Ron, put me down."

"Sure, babe." Ron dumped Joe in the center of the shallow pool that lay at the bottom of the grassed area where they'd set up camp.

Joe screamed, "It's fucking freezing!" He tried to get to his feet and head for dry land.

"Oh no you don't." Ron said pushing him back down on his butt. It's washy time."

"Fuck you!" Joe said through chattering teeth.

"We'll have to see about that, babe."

Joe didn't know which was more annoying: being woken up at such a God early hour and getting dumped in a pool of icy water, or the happy cheerfulness of Ron as he repeatedly splashed cold water on him. How could anyone be so upbeat that early in the morning? It wasn't human.

Determined to get even, Joe began to retaliate by splashing Ron back. But to his annoyance, Ron seemed to relish Joe's competitiveness. "You're a fucking bastard, Ron Holloway."

Ron grinned. "Glad to see you're not just a doormat, Barnes. But this streak of disrespect won't go unpunished. I think you deserve to be bound, gagged and blindfolded for this."

Joe, knowing he was gonna get it anyway, decided he might as well make the most of it. So when Ron was least expecting him to strike, Joe charged him and toppled him ass first into the water. Before Ron could get up, Joe jumped on top of him and wrestled with him. Ron was physically much stronger than Joe, and could easily have thrown him off if he'd wanted. However, this didn't seem to be in Ron's game plan. He seemed content to play wrestle with Joe, both of them getting thoroughly wet, as well as cold. Joe soon began to shiver, and decided to head for dry land.

"I'll find you a towel, babe," Ron said coming out after him. "Boy, that was a lot of fun. Nothing like nude wrestling in the morning to get the ole juices flowing, eh?"

Joe looked down at his shriveled penis. "That's easy for you to say."

Ron laughed. "I bet I can get it to come out and play."

Joe accepted the proffered towel. "Promises, promises."

Drying himself on another towel, Ron said, "Oh, is that a challenge I hear? Cause me being the super-competitive man that I am, I always have to rise to a challenge. And this challenge is to get you to rise."

Joe groaned.

"But first, special babe, because you've been such a misbehaved midget, it's bondage time!"

"Oh, Ron, be gentle with me." Joe thought he'd play up his part by fluttering his eyelashes.

Ron shook his head and advanced on his victim.

As Ron wound several lengths of soft rope round his giggling captive, Joe asked, "You called me a mucky midget back there, what was all that about?"

Ron paused. Did I? Sorry, it must be a phrase I picked up from my uncle. He's English."

Joe nodded in understanding.

"I've changed my mind about gagging you, babe. Having your mouth open like this means I can feed you breakfast. Now what sorts of things don't you like?" Ron grinned evilly and rubbed his palms.

"Oh, no."

Joe had no idea breakfast would be such sweet torture. Never did he think food could be so arousing.

Standing there bound and blindfolded, Joe could do little but contemplate his fate. He could hear Ron building up the fire, then he heard him messing around with kettles, skillets and goodness knew what else. Then came the delicious smells that made him drool. The outdoors had certainly increased his appetite.

He jumped when he felt Ron blowing in his ear. How had he managed to approach without hearing him?

"Okay to begin, special babe?" Ron said low in his throat.

Joe had come to recognize that tone of voice. It had the immediate effect of stimulating his dick. He groaned, knowing something was about to happen. "Go on, do your worst. I guess I deserve it."

Ron chuckled. "My first instrument of torture is some reconstituted dried egg. Even though I do say so myself, these scrambled eggs are delicious."

Joe felt something warm and moist being spread across his upper chest. He groaned, and his stomach growled. He was starving.

"Hungry, babe?" Ron asked.

Joe nodded,

Joe felt Ron lick up the egg; this was accompanied by slurping noises as Ron used his chest as some kind of plate. "What a pity you were so bad, cause this egg's really nice and creamy, I don't know about you, but scrambled eggs are so much nicer when they're still a bit runny. And a dash of Worcestershire sauce really makes a big difference. Can you smell the sauce, babe?"

Joe could, and it made him salivate even more. This he realized wasn't the only part of his body to leak, his dick had grown painfully hard and was beginning to pump out pre-cum. Whimpering, Joe said, "Please Ron, feed me. I'm starving."

"You gonna be a good boy for the rest of the day?"

"Yes, Ron, Sir. I'll be a good boy."

"And you're not gonna call me a bastard or any other nasty names? This is buttered toast, babe. Feel how slick it is?" Ron said, rubbing something warm against Joe's scrotum.

"Oh, god." Joe squirmed at the amazing feeling in his balls. "No Ron, I cross my heart and hope to die that I won't call you any more nasty names."

"I like it when you called me a god," Ron growled.

"You are a god, Ron. I've thought so ever since I laid eyes on you."

"And did you go home each night and jerk off thinking about me? Here's a hot dog for your hot ass." Ron rubbed something along Joe's butt crack.

Joe whimpered. "Yes, Ron, every night, sometimes even twice a night."

"I bet you used to get hard when you looked at me during Philosophy class."

"Yeah, really hard. Come on, Ron, please. I'm begging you. Please feed me." He felt something next to his right hand and snatched at it. It was the hot dog. His joy was short-lived however. When he tried to raise his hand to his mouth, he remembered his wrists were tied to his sides. "You did that deliberately!" Joe sulked in frustration.

Ron let out a satisfied laugh. "Yeah, how'd you guess?"

"Please, Ron. Please, I'm really hungry now. You've been teasing me for ages."

"Yeah, and I've had a lot of fun doing it. Now for the Spam course."

Joe felt something being slipped between his upper arm and his chest. It then was moved up and down, it tickled.

"Hmm, slices of Spam, crispy at the edges but still soft in the middle. Just the way I like it."

Joe then felt Ron's face next to his armpit. The Spam was slowly being withdrawn as Ron ate it. Ron then licked Joe's arm. "That tasted so good. You make a great plate, babe."

Joe realized Ron wasn't responding to his pleas, so he thought he'd try the silent approach, not react either verbally or physically to Ron's taunts. He even managed a pouty face.

"Do you think you've been punished enough, babe?" Ron asked after he'd licked up the maple syrup he'd drizzled down Joe's belly and over his erect cock.

Joe was about to say 'Yes, ages ago,' when he thought better of it. "You're in charge, Ron, so if you think I've been punished enough, then it's enough."

The next thing Joe was aware of was Ron kissing him passionately. "You're so fucking special, Joe, babe. God I wish I hadn't waited so long to claim you."

Joe began to cry at the fervor and sincerity in Ron's voice.

Ron removed Joe's blindfold and kissed away his tears. "Here, babe. Ron held a hot dog at Joe's lips, and Joe greedily began to eat. Ron carried on feeding him food and gave him sips of coffee until Joe admitted he'd had enough. Then Ron untied him and hugged him fiercely, raining kisses all over his face, neck and shoulders.

"You're awesome, Joe. God you're so fucking special."

"So are you, my Ron, my Sir."

* * * * *

Because breakfast had proved so messy, Ron told Joe he needed another wash. Joe knew better than to protest. However Joe had been unaware that Ron had been heating a large pot of water on the fire, so Joe was able to wash, or rather be washed by Ron, in warm water.

Breakfast and ablutions concluded, Ron announced they were going for a walk around the hillside. Joe readily agreed, but was more hesitant when Ron said they were going to do it naked. Joe was somewhat reassured when Ron said it would be highly unlikely that they'd come across any other campers, but conceded he'd put some shorts and T-shirts in a backpack just in case.

At one point during their walk, Ron held up his hand for Joe to stop and stay quiet. At first Joe couldn't see why Ron had stopped and signaled for silence, but soon a small group of deer walked directly across their path.

The largest of the three deer stood just under 3 foot tall at the shoulder, slightly longer from nose to tail. He had a reddish grey coat with white markings around his eyes, in a band behind his nose and in his ears.

Unfortunately something must have spooked them, and with a twitch of their tails, they bounded away.

"Wow, I never thought I'd see one for real. They were whitetails weren't they?" Joe said, feeling privileged to have seen such beautiful animals at close range.

"Yeah, amazing aren't they?" Ron said, seeming to be just as awed. "And how clever of you to know what they were. I suppose the patch of white under their tails gave it away."

"Yeah, I remember seeing a picture of them once."

They resumed their walk.

"It was quite unusual to see a doe with her fawns, because usually she hunts for food alone and leaves her young hidden away in tall grasses."

"Oh, I thought it was a male, um, a stag."

"Nope, stags are generally solitary animals."

"Yeah, and he didn't have any antlers, either." Joe said, feeling stupid.

"S'okay, babe. Actually it's a bit early in the season for young stags to have grown antlers."

"You seem to know a lot about deer."

"They're such fascinating creatures. Because of the whitetail, early settlers as well as native Indians were able to survive, using the deer for food, clothing and shelter."

Joe didn't like the idea of killing such magnificent animals, but guessed back then it was done out of survival rather than just for fun.

As they walked, Ron continued to tell Joe all he knew about the deer, how they had been adopted as the state animal, when they mated, and what they ate. Joe was fascinated at the depth of Ron's knowledge.

Drawing level with a large tree, Ron indicated they should sit for a while and take a break. Ron then rummaged around in his backpack and brought out a water bottle and offered it to Joe.

"Thanks."

Joe took a long drink before giving the bottle back to Ron. The temperatures had begun to rise; Joe didn't realize how thirsty he was.

"With everything you know about deer and all the other stuff, you ought to become a game warden or something."

"Well, yeah, I've thought about it, but I got into the military instead, though that was mainly to placate my dad."

"Oh?" Joe pricked up his ears, up until then, Ron had disclosed very little about his family situation.

"Yeah, he's an officer in the marines, but cause of my size, that wasn't an option. Don't get me wrong, I really get a lot out of being in the Army ROTC, but I'm not sure a military career is what I wanna do for the rest of my life."

Joe leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes. A comfortable silence descended between them, Joe felt he never wanted to move from his current spot lying next to the man he was rapidly falling in love with.

"What you thinking, babe?" Ron asked softly.

"Uh." Joe didn't want to lie, but equally he knew he couldn't tell Ron everything. "Just how fascinating you are. Okay, I've sort of admired you from afar for months now, but I realize that the real you is a lot more interesting," Joe thought `and lovable', "than the fantasy of you that I'd created."

Joe felt Ron wrap his arms around him, hug him and give him a kiss on the top of his head. "You're really great with words. I'm still bowled over by what you said in class that time. Are you gonna become a writer, journalist or something when you graduate?"

Joe shrugged. "I'm not sure, really."

"You should."

"Hey, maybe I ought to write an article for the college newspaper about this weekend. Though it'd have to be a highly expurgated version of events,"

"If you think people would be interested."

"Sure they would. Though I'd need a lot more information from you about the different animals and plants that are native to this area."

"Sure, why not." Ron lapsed into silence,

Joe was content just to remain in the strong arms that held him.

"Say," Ron said, startling Joe out of the doze he'd fallen into. "You any good at climbing trees?"

"Huh?" Joe opened his eyes and twisted round to face Ron. "It's been a while. Why?"

"This tree's been callin' out to me to be climbed."

Joe shook his head, "Go on then. I might need a bit of a boost, though."

"I'll take any excuse to feel up your ass."

"You don't need an excuse." Joe said shaking his booty.

Ron delivered a swat to Joe's butt. "That was just too good an opportunity to pass up, babe."

Once they'd settled themselves on a sturdy branch, Ron took Joe in his arms again and laid a big fat smooch on his lips. "I guess that was something else you wouldn't be able to put in that article," Ron said smirking at Joe.

"Uh, yeah. Ron and Joe up in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

* * * * *

"Now, babe, cause you ate like a pig last night and this morning, we've run out of regular rations," Ron said once the topic of their evening meal had been raised. "But never fear, a soldier is always prepared." Ron produced a couple of items from his backpack. Joe, meet a MRE,"

"Huh?"

"Meals ready to eat. You don't even need a fire or stove to heat them up, cause," Ron then pulled out a couple of 6 by 4 inch pads. "These babies have powdered iron, magnesium and sodium in 'em. All you gotta do is open 'em up, add water, then put in the meal bag and wait. And in about 10 minutes your meal's ready."

"Oh wow, I never knew things like that existed."

"That's something you could put in your article, huh, babe?"

"Yeah, pity I can't write about how sexy the chef is, though." Joe surprised himself at his forwardness.

The meal was, much to Joe's surprise, pretty damn good. He assumed it was the open air, or the fact he was eating with his dream guy.

"Oh, one other thing you might want to consider writing about," Ron said, pointing a plastic spoon at Joe.

"Yeah?" Joe said swallowing a mouthful of beef stew.

"Whitetail fawns are really smart at not leaving any clues as to where they've been. They only defecate and urinate when their mom's are around to eat up the evidence."

Joe's laden plastic spoon hovered uncertainly between his mouth and the food container.

"It's true, I swear." Ron said sounding gleeful at Joe's discomfort.

"Uh, yeah, I believe you. Thanks for sharing."

Ron laughed. "You're welcome, bud."

Joe's appetite was only temporarily derailed. He soon resumed eating with his usual gusto.

"Thanks, Ron, that was delicious. I wasn't so sure when you told me these meals can be stored for up to ten years."

"Glad you liked it. But I only just bought the MREs so they're probably not that old. I think there's some marshmallows left, wanna toast 'em for dessert?"

Joe's smile was all the answer Ron needed.

* * * * *

"Our last night in the wilderness, special babe," Ron said as he cuddled a sleepy but totally satisfied Joe.

"Yeah. It's been the best. I'll never forget this weekend," Joe said yawning.

The two had taken their sexual relationship to the next level. Ron had asked Joe what he wanted to do. An embarrassed Joe had admitted he wanted to go down on Ron and suck him off. Ron had agreed, and Joe had employed every trick he knew to make the experience as good for Ron as he could. Perfect was the only word Joe could come up with to describe the taste and texture of Ron's dick. Joe had taken things slowly; he wanted the lovemaking, for that was how he saw it, to last. Ron managed to stave off climax for a little over fifteen minutes, before flooding Joe's mouth with his sweet, thick semen.

Once Ron had come down from what he admitted was one of the most amazing orgasms of his life, a claim Joe found hard to believe, Ron maneuvered himself over Joe's leaking hardness. It came as a major surprise to Joe that Ron wanted to reciprocate the suck.

"You didn't think I'd leave you unsatisfied did you, babe?"

"Uh, well, uh, no, but. . ."

"But nothin', babe. I might not be as experienced in sucking cock as you, but as with everything else I've done this weekend, I'll do it to the best of my ability."

And Ron's best was, to Joe's way of thinking, absolutely amazing.

* * * * *

"So, babe, what you wanna do after breakfast?" Ron asked once the two had bathed, Joe somewhat more willingly than the previous day.

"Stay here in this little haven of peace with you for the rest of my life." Joe startled himself. He hadn't meant to speak his thoughts out loud.

Ron sighed. "We can't, babe. Real life and all that."

Joe was thankful Ron hadn't come out with something negative or sarcastic. "I don't know. You're the one who's running this show, so you decide."

"I don't imagine you're much into fishing, so I guess it'll have to be walking. You up for that?"

Joe nodded. He didn't mind what they did, so long as they did it together.

Joe was hoping to come across more deer, he wouldn't even have minded seeing a black bear so long as his fearless protector was with him. But apart from birds singing in the trees they didn't see much else in the way of wildlife.

It was hotter than the day before, and the sun seemed much brighter. Joe's skin began to itch. Looking down, he saw it was turning an interesting shade of red.

Ron said they would head back to camp where he had some Aloe he would apply to Joe's tender areas.

"What, all of them?" Joe grinned.

"Yeah, and I'll make sure it's worked in real well, too."

It would be fair to say the two men weren't slow in getting back to camp. Joe would have led the way, so eager was he for Ron to rub him with the promised gel, but he wasn't sure of the way.

"I'm sorry, babe, I should have remembered to bring some suntan lotion with us." Ron said while rubbing Joe's back.

"You didn't know I burn easily. I'm sure I'll be fine soon."

"Okay, just let it soak in for a minute, then roll over and I'll do your front."

Joe wanted to say that he could do that himself, but he wasn't going to pass up the offer of having Ron's large, slightly roughened but still gentle hands touching him.

The massage had given Joe a hard on. But he'd grown so comfortable around Ron, he wasn't overly concerned that his flagpole was standing proud when he turned over. A glance in Ron's direction revealed that he too was sporting wood.

The action of working the gel into Joe's chest, slightly defined abs and groin area did nothing to relieve his stiffness. By unspoken consent Ron climbed on top of Joe and used his firm slightly furry body to give Joe an all over body massage. Their cocks ground together. Joe thrust upward to increase the pressure.

"Oh babe, yeah," Ron moaned. "Gonna squirt some juice on ya that'll put hairs on your chest."

"Me too. Gimme all ya got, you fucking, awesome god!" Joe locked his mouth on Ron's lips, and sought out and sucked Ron's tongue.

The two lay together in the warm afternoon sun, their bodies feeling the occasional breath of wind as it stirred the leaves in the trees. Joe silently wished he and Ron could be together like this always, but as Ron had all too logically pointed out, real life wouldn't permit such heavenly dreams to become reality.

"Come on, babe, we better get washed up. Then I'll strike camp."

"Yeah." Joe reluctantly took Ron's proffered hand and levered himself up.

Joe tried to subdue his sadness as he helped Ron pack away all signs of their visit. Ron had impressed upon Joe that they should take care to pick up their litter and leave the site looking the same as when they'd arrived. Joe was depressed that there would be no lasting monument to the incredible weekend he'd shared with the guy who up until that Friday, had been an idol only to be worshiped from a distance.

The ride home was made in almost total silence, Ron attempted to engage Joe in conversation a few times, but Joe's heart wasn't in it. The weather seemed to match Joe's mood. It had been a bright spring day in the mountains, but the closer they got to their destination, the lower and darker the clouds became, forcing Ron to turn on his headlights.

Once they'd entered the built up areas of town, the sky became increasingly more menacing. When the college came into view, the heavens opened.

Pulling up by Joe's car in the otherwise empty student parking lot, Ron cut his engine and turned to his passenger.

"Well, babe."

Joe nodded. He wasn't sure what to say, or to be more accurate, was too afraid to say what he wanted to say.

"It was a great weekend, wasn't it?"

Joe nodded again.

"I like camping, it's sort of well, takes you back to nature, and. . ." The unsure note in Ron's voice sounded alien to Joe.

"Could we, um, if it's okay, do you think we could do it again sometime?" Joe asked quietly, so quietly he wasn't sure Ron had heard him above the noise of the rain hitting the metal roof of the truck's cab.

The silence that followed seemed to confirm that Ron hadn't heard. Joe thought about repeating the question, but decided it was best left alone.

"Uh, that could be awkward, I. . ." Ron eventually said.

Joe felt a stab of pain shoot through his gut. He should have expected the brush off, the rejection. He should have prepared himself for disappointment, hadn't Ron hinted at it, using the metaphor of 'real life' to quell Joe's tentative request for more?

With shaking fingers, Joe reached for the door catch. He found it on his third attempt.

"No, it's not what you're thinking." Ron's voice was even less like the confident, self-assured person that Joe had known.

"You don't need to explain." Joe was out of the truck, his hand on the outside of the door to close it. "In fact it probably would be best if you don't."

Joe closed the door with a little more force than he intended, and ran around the back of the pick-up to get to his own vehicle.

"No, babe, you really don't understand," Ron said getting out of the truck and coming toward Joe.

"Please, Ron. I'm only just holding it together here. I've had a great weekend, one I'll never forget. It was wrong, stupid of me to ask for any more, I wish now I'd kept my big mouth shut. I should have been grateful for what I'd received. That way I could have pretended that there really was something between us. I could have believed for a while that you really did want to keep on seeing me, and. . ." Joe wiped at his eyes, cursing himself for always wearing his emotions on his sleeve.

"Babe, please, no. It's not like that at all. Shit I shoulda told you this earlier, but, well I was enjoying our time together too much to want to put a damper on it. Look, we're both getting soaked, please, Joe, please come and sit back in the truck and I'll tell you everything.

Joe hesitated. He wanted to get back to his apartment to lick his wounds and try to mend his shattered confidence. But something, a deep needful plea in Ron's sad eyes persuaded him to at least here the guy out. Joe nodded and walked back to the passenger side of Ron's truck.

"Babe, listen to me." Ron started in before Joe had even closed the door. "This weekend was totally fucking awesome. I wish with all of my heart that we could do it again, but. . ." Ron rubbed at his face.

Joe had never seen Ron behave like this. This wasn't the confident, in charge, decisive Ron that he'd lusted over for months. Whatever anger he'd had, melted at the sight of the emasculated shell sitting next to him.

"A couple months back my folks found out I was gay. Dad hit the roof and was even gonna hit me, till I threatened to go to the cops. Having a conviction for assault wouldn't look good on his military record, so he backed off."

"How'd your mom take it?"

"In some ways worse than dad. She didn't know how she could face the neighbors, the rest of the family when it got around that their son was a fag."

Joe winced at the word, at the vehemence Ron used to say it.

"I've tried to tough it out at home, but it's not getting any better. I was gonna finish the semester here then move on, California maybe. We've got family there, people who are a bit more enlightened than mom and dad."

Joe's mind raced. Not being with Ron, particularly after the close weekend they'd shared, but still being able to idolize him from afar would have been bad enough. Not seeing him at all was something Joe's mind simply couldn't deal with.

"Move in with me," Joe found himself saying.

"I can't, I mean you don't really know me. I. . ."

"Crap. I've known you for months. Okay, most of that time was at a distance, but I've had a lot of time to think what it would be like to share," Joe swallowed, his mouth had suddenly gone very dry. "Share an apartment with you." In Joe's mind he said, 'Share a life with you.'

Joe felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise up. Ron was staring deep into his eyes, seeking to confirm the sincerity in his words.

Joe was starting to panic at Ron's continued silence. He was going to turn him down, he shouldn't have made the offer, laid himself open like that.

"It's only a small place, my apartment. There's just the one bed." Joe's heart was beating so fast, he was finding it difficult to catch his breath. "I'm not stupid enough to think that you're in love with me, like I am with you." Joe amazed himself at finally speaking those words aloud. "But if you weren't acting this weekend, I can tell that you at least like me. That," Joe swallowed, "that'd be enough for me"

Joe started to tremble. Though it wasn't cold in the cab, his teeth were chattering.

With a voice sounding like it was being spoken from a great distance, Ron said, "You remember me saying my parents found out that I was gay? Do you know how they found out?"

"No." Joe rubbed his hands along his arms to try and get warm.

"They found a love letter I'd written. It wasn't the slushy hearts and flowers crap, that's not my style. But it told how I would love, honor and protect the recipient. How I'd keep him safe and watch over him, be strong for him." Lifting his eyes and staring right at Joe, Ron said, "Babe, that letter was addressed to you."

Joe's mouth opened, but no words came out. He was no longer shivering.

"It was meant to be an answer to the public declaration you made in class that time when we were discussing Kant. I'm nowhere near as good at using words as you, so in some ways I'm kinda glad the thing no longer exists. But I promise you, babe, I meant everything I wrote. I wanted to show you that I would be yours, lift you, hold you, be your strength."

"A Napoleon to my Josephine," Joe whispered.

"Yeah. How'd you know I'd written that?"

"It's how I've always seen you. Your qualities of leadership, how people naturally defer to you, listen to you. . ."

"Oh."

Neither seemed to have anything else to say. Joe's mind reeled, replaying and trying to make sense of the situation.

"So," Joe said, breaking the silence." Let me get this straight. Sorry, bad choice of words. You know I love you, right?"

Ron nodded.

Deep breath. "And you love me?"

"Yes. Sorry, I didn't use those words exactly. Let me remedy that right now." Taking hold of Joe's left hand, Ron brought it to his lips and kissed it. "I love you Joseph Barnes."

Joe tried hard not to pass out. "Thanks, Ron, you don't know what it means to hear you say that.

Ron smiled.

Joe knew he had to push on with his list of questions if he were ever to make any sense of what was going on.

"You can't live at home much longer, correct?"

"Nope, it's really getting to me."

Joe squeezed Ron's hand in silent understanding. You enjoy being in the ROTC here in Pennsylvania? And you also like the courses this place," Joe swept his hand around the parking lot indicating the college as a whole, "offers?"

"Yeah, I'm well respected in the corps, and the classes here are good, and the tuition fees are reasonable."

"You understand that my offer to have you come live with me was, is, a genuine one."

"Yes, but. . ."

"No buts, Ron. I would love nothing more than for you to share my apartment and my life." There, he'd said it out loud. "So I don't understand why you won't take up my offer, to stay with me, love me, be mine. . ." Joe felt himself losing it. "You'd be able to stay in the local ROTC, attend classes here, be close to your family if they ever soften their attitude. They must be so fucking dense to even consider not supporting such a totally awesome son like you are."

"Wow," Ron eventually said. "I just thought it might be asking too much of you, pushing my stronger will on you and not letting you decide such a major thing calmly and without pressure."

"Ron, it's true I'm not that strong physically. I'm submissive within a relationship. But let me tell you, I'm no push over when it comes to what I believe. Trust me, I've always spoken my mind, and it's often got me into trouble."

Ron smiled. "I'm sorry, I've obviously underestimated you."

"So does that mean you'll move in?" Joe asked, mentally crossing his fingers.

Ron nodded. "Yes, babe, if you'll have me."

AFTERWORD

Joe got Ron a part time job at the restaurant where he worked to help Ron pay for his living expenses. At school Ron made sure everyone knew he and Joe Barnes were good friends. Although Ron never came out exactly, the more observant wouldn't have been left in much doubt that he and Joe were an item.

As for the article Joe said he was going to write for the college newspaper, he changed his mind. Instead he wrote a much fuller account of the weekend and submitted it to a number of gay story sites on the net.