This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.

Note: I owe a special thanks to Robb for doing the final proofreading and catching all those silly little errors that I missed.

LOVE ON THE COURT

CHAPTER 7

WITT’S PERSPECTIVE:

My folks had made arrangements for our family to spend the week of Christmas in the Bahamas so we packed, and Joe went back to his house. Alone. I hated the idea of him spending Christmas by himself, but Joe insisted he’d be all right. Still, I was worried the entire time we were gone. I even called him a couple of times from my room in the hotel. He seemed okay...maybe a little lonely, but okay.

On the trip, Rhonda and I made final plans for the New Years Eve party at our house. Hey, it was December 1999, and New Years marked the beginning of a new millennium. Mom and Dad were going to some fancy party with a bunch of other doctors. We would have the house to ourselves.

We got back from the Bahamas late on the 30^th and started working on the party first thing the next morning. I called Joe, but no one answered at his house. I left a message on the answering machine I’d gotten him for Christmas telling him to call me as soon as he got back in. I wanted him to come over early for the party. That turkey had gotten me a pair of brightly colored Speedos as a gag gift for my trip to the islands. I’d actually worn the suit around the pool at the hotel and was proud to say that several women and men had seriously checked me out. It really showed off the equipment. I picked up a thong bikini for Joe as retaliation. My plan was to give it to him before the party and insist that he model it for Rhonda and me. Well, actually I wanted him to model it for me. Just thinking of his hot body in that skimpy suit made me hard.

Joe never called back. People started arriving for the party about nine in the evening. Rhonda was doing her best hostess routine, but my mind was on why I hadn’t heard back from Joe.

About 11:00 Rhonda pulled me over into a corner. “What’s up with you. This is ‘our’ party, and you’re acting like your mind is a thousand miles away.”

“I’m worried about, Joe.”

“Man, you have got it bad. Not that I blame you, brother. He’s a really hot guy. If you weren’t so interested, I might make a play for him myself.”

“Hands off, Rhonda. I’ve got my claim on that one.”

“Honey, you’ve bet the whole shootin’ match on him. I still think he’s either playing on my team or not playing for either side.”

“I think you’re probably right, but I can’t help the way I feel. We can still be friends.”

“Right! As long as you keep yourself under constant control when he’s around. Witt, you need to find yourself a real boyfriend.”

“I can’t, Rhonda. You know how I feel about Joe. And right now, something’s wrong. I know it. Cover for me for a while, will you? I’m going over to his house.”

“Witt, he’s probably gone out. It is New Years Eve for cripe’s sake.”

“Just cover for me.”

She gave me a peck on the cheek. “Okay, but hurry back.”

Our cars were blocked in the garage so I had to borrow a car from one of my old high school teammates.

Joe’s house was dark except for a light shining out the bathroom window. His old Horizon was in the driveway. I knocked on the front door. No answer. I ran around to the back door and knocked. Still no answer. I could see dishes in the kitchen sink. Joe was almost compulsively neat. He would never leave dirty dishes lying around like that. This was not right.

I knew where he kept a spare key hidden near the back door. I retrieved the key and unlocked the door. I called his name from the kitchen. No response.

I moved from the kitchen into the dining room. The house had a peculiar, slightly sour odor. The bathroom door was ajar. The light was on as I’d seen from outside, but no one was in there. The sink had some vomit in it that hadn’t been completely rinsed away.

I moved into Joe’s bedroom. He was in the bed with two quilts piled on top of him.

“Joe?”

No response. I went over to the bed. I could hear his breathing, but it didn’t sound right. I reached out and touched his cheek. He was burning up with fever!

I turned on the bedside lamp and placed my hand on his forehead. “Joe, Joe, wake up, it’s Witt”

His eye’s opened but didn’t focus. Their normal clear light blue was clouded by fever.

“Joe, can you hear me?”

“W...W...Witt?”

“It’s me, buddy, what’s wrong?”

“Feel awful. So sick.”

“How long have you been sick, buddy?”

“One...two days...don’t know.”

I found a fever thermometer in the bathroom and stuck it under his tongue. I held the thermometer up to the light. Shit! It read 103.2.

“Hold on, Joe. You’ve got a really high fever. I’m going to find something for it.”

I located some aspirin and some Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. I opted for the Tylenol, put two tablets in my hand, got a glass of water from the kitchen, and returned to Joe.

“Here, take these.” I helped him sit up. He was wearing a tee shirt and his boxers under the covers. The sour odor was much stronger when I was leaning close to him.

He swallowed the tablets along with a little water. I eased him back down and pulled the covers up to his chin.

I dialed my house. I told who ever answered the phone to get Rhonda. When she came on the line I told her the situation and asked for the number where my parents were partying.

I dialed the number, identified myself, and asked to speak to either Dr. Anderson Sadler or Dr. Shelia Williams-Sadler. After what seemed like a long wait, Dad came on the line.

“Witt, what’s wrong? Are you and Rhonda okay?”

“We’re fine, Dad. It’s not us. It’s Joe. I’m over at his house. He’s real sick. I took his temperature; it’s 103.2, and he’s not very coherent. I gave him some Tylenol.”

“Okay, the Tylenol was the right thing to do. Give me directions to his house; mom and I will be right over.”

I gave him the directions and hung up the phone.

“Witt?”

“I’m here, buddy.”

“Ache. Hurt bad. What day?”

“It’s New Years Eve. Where does it hurt, Joe?”

“Head...back. Light’s too bright.”

“Okay, buddy. I’ll turn out the light, but we’ll have to put it back on when my mom and dad get here. Will that be okay?”

“Yeah.”

Mom and Dad arrived about forty-five minutes later. Dad had his medical bag in the car so he was able to listen to Joe’s heart and lungs. His temperature was down to 102.4.

Dad started to put the stethoscope back in his bag. “It looks like he’s got a bad case of flu. I want to get him to a hospital...”

“NO! No hospital.” Joe’s voice was surprisingly emphatic.

Dad put his hand against Joe’s cheek. “Joe, you’re really sick, and we need to get you to a hospital to take care of you.”

“No! No hospital. No insurance...can’t pay. Won’t go. Need to stay here.” His voice wasn’t as strong as before, but there was an urgency, almost a sense of panic, in it.

I pleaded with my dad. “If Joe doesn’t have any health insurance, there’s no way he could pay for the hospital. Can’t he stay here. I’ll stay with him.”

Dad looked up at mom and sighed. “Against my better judgment, he can stay here if you’ll stay with him. You have to make sure he gets plenty of fluids, and if the fever gets above 103.8 or if he starts to have trouble breathing, you call an ambulance and then call me. Is that clear?”

“Yes. I understand.”

“Okay, we’ll come back in the morning.”

“Sorry to call you away from your party.”

“That’s okay. It was just a bunch of doctors talking shop.” He looked at his watch. “By the way. Welcome to the New Millennium. It’s after Midnight.”

Mom gave both dad and me a kiss. Of course the one she gave dad lasted a little longer. “Happy New Year, guys!”

Before they left, dad helped me pull one of the chairs from the living room into Joe’s bedroom. After they left, I found another quilt, settled into the chair, wrapped the quilt around me, and tried to get some sleep.

**********

I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. Joe was restless, and every time he moved I woke up. I gave him some more Tylenol and some juice in the middle of the night. He went back into a fitful sleep almost immediately.

Mom and dad came over the next morning with some clean clothes and a supply of food for me plus several cans of chicken soup and bottles of juice for Joe. He still wasn’t very coherent, but his temperature was down to 102. That was at least some progress in the right direction.

Dad and I walked Joe into the bathroom and sat him on the toilet to do his business. He peed quite a bit, and dad said it was a good sign that he wasn’t becoming dehydrated. When Joe was finished using the toilet, we stripped his tee shirt and boxers off him and gave him a sponge bath. He smelled a lot better after that.

While dad and I were giving Joe his bath, mom changed the sheets on the bed. Dad and I got Joe back into the bed, and he immediately went back to sleep. After rechecking Joe’s temperature, my parents left for a New Years Day brunch.

I took a shower, shaved, started the laundry with Joe’s dirty clothes and sheets, had a late breakfast, and then went back to sleep in the chair.

Joe sort of woke up a couple of times, but he wasn’t any more coherent than before. I got him to eat some soup and drink some juice each time, and I helped him into the bathroom to pee. Once as he slept, I sat on the side of the bed and stroked the hair falling across his forehead. I figured he wouldn’t remember any of it, but it seemed to make him rest easier, and I enjoyed it. I’d probably never be able to touch him like that again.

He slept fairly well that night, and his temperature was down even more so I felt I could leave him alone in his room. I wrapped up in the quilt on Grandpa Ronkowski’s bed. It sure was a lot more comfortable than the chair. I went out like a light.

**********

I heard a sound in the bathroom. As I was trying to unwrap myself from the quilt, I looked at the clock next to the bed. It said 3:15 a.m. What the devil was Joe doing out of bed at that time of the morning? By the time I got to the bathroom door, the shower was running. I stepped into the bathroom. Joe’s boxers and tee shirt were in a pile on the floor. I could see him standing in the shower behind the curtain.

“Joe, what are you doing, man?”

“I’m all sweaty. Need a shower.”

I reached down and felt his tee shirt. It was wet with sweat. I knew that meant his fever must have broken. Good sign.

“Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah. This feels good.”

“Okay, I’ll just stay in here to see if you need any thing.”

I watched his shadow on the shower curtain as he washed and rinsed his hair. He started running the soap across his shoulders but stopped.

“Are you okay?”

“Witt, I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Hold on, buddy!” I threw open the shower curtain and stepped into the tub facing him and putting my body right in the spray of the shower soaking my boxers.

I grabbed him under his arms and lowered him to the edge of the tub. “Put your head down on your knees.”

I kept one hand on Joe’s back as I twisted around to turn the water off in the shower.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Joe. You’re not strong enough to move around much on your own.”

His body started to shake. “God, Witt, I’m so cold.”

“You’re having a chill. Hold on, I’ll get you dried off and back into bed.”

I hurriedly toweled off his body and dried his hair. When he was dry, I stripped off my wet boxers and used the towel on myself. I supported him from the side and walked him back to his bed. Shit! The sheets were wet. I turned us around and walked him into his grandfather’s room. I pulled back the covers and helped him lay down in the bed. I pulled the covers up to his chin, but his shivering didn’t stop.

“I’m so cold.” His teeth were chattering.

I took a deep breath, pulled back the covers, and climbed in next to him wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into a spooning position. As my body heat transferred to him he stopped shivering and went back to sleep. A little while later I drifted off also.

#########################################

JOE’S PERSPECTIVE:

I wasn’t sure where I was when I first woke up. I knew I was in a bed, and I knew Witt was with me. I recognized his scent. My face was pressed against his neck. I could feel his pulse against my lips. As I became more and more aware, I realized that we were both naked, and I could feel his semi hard penis against my hip.

I started remembering flashes of scenes from the past several days. I’d started feeling bad a couple of days before New Years. I remembered getting real weak. I think I threw up in the sink in the bathroom a couple of times. I remembered Witt and his parents standing in my room talking about going to the hospital with me struggling to tell them that I didn’t have any health insurance, and I couldn’t afford the hospital. I remembered Witt and his father taking me into the bathroom and washing me after I’d peed. Then it was night again, and I was sweating in the bed. I needed a shower, but I couldn’t stand up. Witt had climbed into the shower with me to keep me from falling. He put me back in bed, but I had been so cold. I don’t think I’d ever been that cold in my entire life. Witt had climbed into bed with me and hugged me to his body giving me his warmth.

So there I was, stark naked and snuggled up to Witt Sadler. I’d dreamed about being in this position, but this wasn’t a dream, it was reality. How was I going to get out of this? I knew he’d gotten in bed with me because I needed to be warmed. But now we were wrapped in an embrace, and my cock was starting to rise and push against his hip. I had to do something or he would feel it.

I tried to move away, but, still asleep, his arms tightened around me pulling me in closer. I gave up trying to get away, relaxed into the scent of his skin, and went back to sleep feeling happier than I could ever remember.

When I woke up again, Witt wasn’t in the bed with me anymore. I heard noises in the kitchen. That’s when I realized that I was in Grandpa’s bed. Just then Witt appeared at the door. He was fully dressed.

“Hey, bro, you’re awake.”

“Yeah, and I actually think I know what’s happening.”

“Hey, that’ll be an improvement. You’ve been out of it for a couple of days.”

“What day is it?”

“Try January 2, 2000, fella. You managed to miss the whole change of the millennium thing. Are you hungry this morning?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

“That’s a good sign. Your fever broke last night. Do you remember trying to take a shower and almost passing out.”

I lied. “Vaguely.”

“Well, after that you had chills. Your bed was soaked with sweat so I put you in bed in here. Let me check your temperature this morning.” He moved the fever thermometer toward my mouth.

With the thermometer sticking under my tongue I mumbled, “Witt, I know you slept with me last night to get me warm. Thanks. I thought I was freezing to death. It helped.”

He looked embarrassed. I guessed he’d felt my erection poking him in the leg. “No problem. Your teeth were chattering so much I thought you might break one. Now open up so I can check this thermometer under your tongue.”

He checked the thermometer. It registered a normal temperature. I was on my way to recovery.

Witt and I spent the day talking in between my frequent naps. He told me about his trip to the Bahamas. I told him about the late December snowstorm that had almost shut down the city. In the late afternoon, we ventured into more personal areas.

“Joe, I don’t know how to bring this up...and you can tell me it’s none of my business, but are you going to be okay financially?”

That kind of question would have normally put me into one of my non-communicative moods. Somehow, I didn’t mind him asking it. I think it was because I knew that despite his family’s money, he wouldn’t be looking down his nose at me.

“Yeah. I think I’ll be okay. I talked with Grandpa’s lawyer just after Christmas. I’m listed as Grandpa’s sole heir. There’s no mortgage on the house; there’s some insurance money that I’m going to set aside to pay taxes and do any repairs on the house; there was more money than I’d thought in the savings and checking accounts. With the basketball scholarship I’ll be okay.”

“So you’re going to be able to keep the house?”

“Oh yeah. No problem there.”

“Have you considered taking in a roommate?”

“I’ve thought about that. It would help with the bills, and it was kind of lonely over the holidays. I’d have to be really careful about who it was. I’m probably not the easiest person in the world to live with.”

“What about me?”

“Yeah, I can see that you wouldn’t be the easiest to live with either.”

“Your brain is still suffering, Ronkowski. I was talking about how you’d feel having me as a roommate.”

My heart skipped a beat with the idea of having my best friend and the object of most of my sexual fantasies living in the same house. At the same time my stomach did a flip with the idea of the frustration of having even more contact with some one I knew I’d never be able to have. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“You turkey.”

“Okay, I’ve thought about it. You’d have to keep your room picked up.” I smiled at him to let him know I was kidding.

He smiled back. “Hey, it’s a promise.”

(To be continued)