I do....Forever

Stan had his partner Jerry’s life all planned out. Jerry would morn for six months, have a few sad sexual encounters, date a bit and then find love again. Jerry, as usual, never wanted to talk about it when Stan was as dying.  He never talked about feelings, period. Jerry would keep busy, yard work, housework, run here, run there but he could not talk about Stan dying. Now He’s dead and Jerry is doing it all wrong!

Stan and Jerry met 20 years earlier when they were both turning 30. They came into this relationship with their own baggage but both were ready to learn from the past, settle down and enjoy life. Stan and Jerry, both in finance, were at the top of their game. They were overachievers. They had a lot of money. They saved. They bought homes and built a life. They played just as hard as they worked.

They had their challenges in the beginning but after the first year, they knew what they wanted. They coasted through the years together until Jerry got the call from the hospital. Stan was being admitted. He suddenly collapsed at work.  The nurse said, “Hurry.” When Jerry arrived he was told Stan had been experiencing shortness of breath for months. They would have news soon. 

Jerry walked in yelling at Stan, “for months? You can’t breath for months and you don’t tell me?” Just then, four doctors appear with the news. The team leader takes charge. “There is nothing good to share my friends. Stan is very sick, stage 4 lung cancer. Very advanced and aggressive.” The doctor explained that decisions must had to be made quickly. He apologize like a waiter apologizes for being out of the fillet you just ordered, sympathetic but perfunctory. “How about the fish”? Now the doctor said he will leave us to absorb this information. “Someone will be back in an our to discuss your options.”

They just stared at each other.

An hour later they returned. Stan could be aggressive and live 6-12 mo if the meds don’t kill him earlier or he could do nothing and go into hospice care when needed. 

They just stared at each other.

Finally Stan said “get my clothes, we’re going home”. Jerry didn’t blink. The thought of these strong chemo drugs killing Stan soon was frightening. No. They went home where Stan the planner worked out every detail of the end of his life and Jerry’s life after but he had to do it alone. Jerry was busy building flower boxes, painting the house, working until late at night, anything but talking.

Stan died 3 mo later, at home, in his bed, without hospice.

Stan’s friends would come by with casseroles, wine, music and a few offered sex. As Stan expected, Patrick, one of Stan’s oldest friends got Jerry drunk, walked up to him and pulled down Jerry’s sweatpants. Jerry hadn’t showered in 2 days, manscaped since Stan died a month ago but just watched as Patrick eagerly swallowed his dirty dick. He didn’t hesitate at all. Jerry thought about how pissed Stan would be but it felt good. He grabbed Patrick by the throat and forced him to cough, gag and choke on his Impressive cock. As much as Jerry wanted to hurt Patrick, Patrick loved it. He felt special when Jerry cried out and dumped 2 months of bittter, thick cum down his throat. As Patrick stood and smiled, he went to kiss Jerry. Jerry turned his face and pulled his pants up. He asked, “could you leave now. I’m done and want to go to bed.” Patrick started making excuses, plans for next week, small talk as Jerry asked him to lock up on his way out. Jerry went to bed leaving Patrick to cleanup the kitchen and leave.

Jerry laid in bed feeling guilty and dirty. More dirty than he did for not showering. He got up and took a long hot shower and apologized to Stan, God, himself, for not being stronger. The blowjob wasn’t even good but cumming felt amazing. He missed making love, fucking and being dirty with Stan. What was he supposed to do now. He wasn’t prepared. Maybe he should have talked to Stan like Stan wanted to? Stan, his best friend wasn’t there to talk to him, hold him, guide him. 

As he turned the shower off, someone handed him at towel. He started to scold Patrick for coming upstairs but there he was, STAN? What the fuck Stan, how? What? Is that you? “ yea yea yea. I’ve been watching but I had to come back and tell you I was right! Patrick is such a snake! I told you...” STOP Stan! What are you doing here, how...”

I don't know Jerry. I've been here watching, holding you, comforting you but I got so mad at Patrick for taking advantage of you that.., well....here I am.”

They went into the bedroom where Stan spooned Jerry as Jerry talked about his loss and pain more freely than he ever did before Stan died. They hugged and cried until they fell asleep in each others arms. 

The next morning Jerry woke early and immediately turned to Stan. He was gone. Jerry thought, what the fuck happened? Was I high or drugged. It was so real. He called out to Stan, over and over. Nothing.

The days passed. Friends stopped coming by and calling, even Patrick gave up. He offered more food, his code for blowjobs but Jerry made it crystal clear that he was not interested in his sloppy, wet casseroles. Jerry was working, drinking and sleeping. He would sleep for hours, sometimes crying out something random like “we need 2 cars” or “you don't take cream but I do” in an angry argumentative voice. This night Stan said “I don't take cream anymore Jerry. What the fuck are you doing to yourself. I can't rest and if I can't rest, I'll be dammed if you do.” Jerry turned and looked at Stan. He was blurting out everything he's been through. Angry that Stan left him. “I wouldn't leave you” Jerry said. Stan laughed hard and said something like, if I only had a choice, you could have gone but it was me.” “asshole” Jerry said, and they laughed.

Stan held Jerry again all night as he complained about his life. He wasn't about to fall asleep and lose him again. Then, Stan started talking. He told Jerry it was time to get back into life. Go to the gym, call your real friends and learn to be independent. “You're Smart enough, handsome and charming”. By now Stans's voice put Jerry to sleep. The next morning, the inevitable. Jerry woke up alone.

Jerry got dressed and went to work. He planned to go to the gym but didn't make it there for four days. Even then, he roamed around with no focus. When he got home that night, Stan was sitting in his chair reading like he’d done for year's. Jerry felt warm and excited. Stan put down his book and Jerry shared his most intimate fears, concerns and feeling like he never had or would have allowed before. They laughed. They cried. They looked, even touched but they could not feel each others touch. Jerry could see Stan hold his hand but he couldn't feel it. He felt the sentiment of the gesture as powerfully as the feeling.

Night after night, Stan was there to greet him and Jerry’s mood was changing, lightening. People were noticing a change. They thought he might have a boyfriend. Jerry and Stan were changing too. Their relationship, more intimate than before, turned to current events rather than death. At night, Stan would crawl on top of Jerry’s naked body and whisper intimate or lusty experiences they had in the past. Jerry couldn't feel him but seeing and listening to him while touching himself lead to some of the hottest sex Jerry ever had. Stan was in agreement. He was such a physical man but this intellectual and creative sex was so intimate and satisfying.

After weeks like this, Stan didn't want to leave and Jerry didn't want him to. Also, people started to notice odd behaviour from Jerry's home. The paperboy would hear Jerry laughing and talking to what appeared to be himself. Friends would stop by and talk to Jerry, who would laugh inappropriately at something said by Stan that only Jerry could hear. Last week, Judi stopped by and brought a healthy casserole. She scolded Jerry for not eating healthy like she does. As Jerry took a drink of water, Stan said “listen to this 300 pond woman scold you on what's healthy, fatass”. Jerry laughed and spit water all over Judi, as it appeared, irrationality. 

Something had to give.

Nothing gave, Stan stayed, year's later you could hear Jerry laughing by himself from outside his house, playing cards alone and loudly jerk off while saying crazy things about Stan. Jerry withdrew more and more from others as they tried to intervein and help. As it appeared, “crazy” Jerry, the recluse, grew old and alone in his own little world.

One day, many years later, Stan and Jerry woke up as usual. Stan was spooning Jerry and they could feel each other. After all these years they were physically reunited with no walls separating the two. Jerry turned to Stan and thanked him for waiting for him. Stan said “no Jerry, thank you for loving me so much, you wouldn't let me go. Now, we can go together.” They had nothing nothing but time ahead of them. As they kissed and held each other passionately, they faded away.