Gaudeamus Igitur

Author’s Notes: The Mercer U. and Mercerville mentioned in this story are entirely fictitious. No rabbits were harmed in the writing of this fic.

I’d like to thank Jean of badbible.com for asking if I’d be interested in participating in the contest on her site, thereby resulting in the writing of Gaudeamus Igitur, and as always, to Gail, for all her invaluable help.

Gaudeamus Igitur

or Let’s Be Happy While We’re Young

I stared down into the toilet in horror. For the past day or so, I hadn’t been feeling too well, and it had been painful when I’d had to pee, but now there was blood in my urine. I swallowed and began to shake.

A tapping on the bathroom door caused me to jump. “Y-yes?”

“Dante?” It was my mother. “Are you all right?”

“F-fine, Mama.”

“You don’t want to be late for class. You know your Uncle John doesn’t like it when you borrow his car, and if you don’t hurry, he might decide he needs it more than you do and won’t let you drive it to campus.”

She was right. “I’ll be out in a second. I just have to wash my hands.”

I gave a last, uneasy glance at the toilet, then flushed, tucked my dick away, and did up my trousers. I ran the water in the sink, all the while thinking furiously.

We didn’t have a computer here on the farm, but I could use one in the computer lab at the university I attended part time. I’d look up my symptoms before I decided the best course of action to take.

**

Surprisingly enough, Uncle John’s rattletrap of a car managed to get me to campus in plenty of time for my only class of the day, Anatomy and Physiology. I’d set up my schedule so I took the most difficult classes on their own. Anat and Phys was one of those, and I had to work hard for even a C-.

I hurried to the computer lab, logged on, and began to Google blood in the urine. UTIs, prostatitis, Hepatitis, gonorrhea… Gonorrhea?

I scanned the article, and now I really felt sick. Up until a week and a half ago, the possibility of me having a sexually transmitted disease would have been out of the question. I might have been twenty, but I’d still been a virgin. Mama became ill with a serious heart condition the year I’d turned fifteen. We were still living in London, at the time, although that had nothing to do with me realizing I liked boys the way most boys liked girls. I couldn’t act on any attraction I felt, and not only because Mama needed all the help I could give her. There was also the fact that the ones I was attracted to where so much older than me. What could I say? I had a thing for those silver foxes. Due to my age, though, they tended to keep their distance, so I crushed on them in private and fantasized quite a bit.

Those fantasies had become more and more vivid—being tied up and at the mercy of a larger, older man; being pushed down to my knees and made to take a large cock that oozed precome into my mouth; being bent over and having blunt fingers prepare my arse to take that large cock. I’d anticipated acting on them eventually and used the handle of my hairbrush to get me used to having something up my arse, but then Mama didn’t get better, we moved to the farm where she’d grown up in the States, and my Uncle John made it clear in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t having a fag in his house.

A week and a half ago, however, I’d gone to a party on campus, more to thumb my nose at Uncle John than because I’d wanted to go, and all I could remember the next morning was nothing of the night before. My arse wasn’t uncomfortable, but for some reason, I was gassy; my head hurt, and my stomach threatened to empty its contents on the unwary.

I drove myself home and was okay by the next day, although I wondered what had happened that night. The frat brothers tended to snicker and walk the other way when they saw me coming, but they’d never really liked me anyway, in spite of what I’d first thought, and the feeling was mutual. I didn’t grow concerned until a couple of days ago, when that nagging sensation started. And my nerves became totally shattered when I spotted the blood in the toilet.

Now, once again, I felt a pressure low in my abdomen, and I shut down the computer and hurried to the men’s room to pee.

Not much came out, but yeah, definitely blood, and God, it hurt like hell.

Okay, Dante. Man up. You have to see a doctor.

But what was I going to do about paying for an Urgent Care visit? I was covered under Uncle John’s health care plan, as was Mama, but Uncle John would go over the explanation of benefits with a fine tooth comb when it came in the mail. How could I explain treatment for an STD? He’d throw me out, which I didn’t really care about, but Mama wouldn’t stay. She and her brother weren’t on good terms. In fact he was the reason why she’d left home to begin with when she was sixteen.

I washed my hands, and since my face felt hot, I splashed some water on it before grabbing a couple of paper towels and drying off. Then I swung my backpack over my shoulders and left Computer Sciences, crossed to the neighboring building, and made my way to the Anatomy and Physiology Lab.

Today we’d be dissecting a cat.

I liked cats, even if Uncle John thought they were only good for keeping down the rodent population in the barns.

I entered the lab, hung my jacket over the back of my seat, then sat down and opened my notebook. We’d probably be taking notes on the first cut we’d make and which muscle group we’d dissect.

And also not to name the cat, because that wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” The man who breezed into the Anat and Phys lab wasn’t Professor Ellison, who usually taught this class.

Ellison was a short man—even I, at five foot eight, was taller than he was. He had a receding hairline that matched his receding chin, and he took great pleasure in making his students feel like idiots. Well, he succeeded in making me feel that way.

This man, though… For a second I sat there with my mouth hanging open. The man was breathtaking. He stood about six foot, with dark brown hair and startlingly blue eyes.

I closed my mouth and swallowed. It wouldn’t do to make it obvious I’d be more than happy to bend over any flat surface and let him have me any way he wanted.

“I’m Dr. Autry,” he said.

Yes, he was. I’d seen him occasionally around the campus and regretted he didn’t teach any of the courses I was enrolled in.

“And I’ll be covering this class today in Professor Ellison’s absence. We’re going to start dissecting a cat. Do you have your tool sets?”

One by one, we placed the black cases on our desks and unzipped them.

“Excellent. Now, we have the cats in bins at the back of the room. You’re going to split up into groups of three, get your cat, and decide who’ll start today.”

I looked around, and a girl and a woman joined me.

“I’ll go get the cat,” the woman said. “I’m Lori, by the way.”

“Hi, Lori. I’m Beth.” The girl grinned, and then they both glanced at me.

I felt as if I should say my name was Rick or Daryl, but I was pretty sure there were no zombies at Mercer U. I cleared my throat. “I’m Dante.”

“Hi, Dante.” Lori winked at me. “Love your accent.” She turned and made her way to the back of the lab.

“Shoot,” Beth groused as she dug through her backpack. “I was in such a rush to leave the house this morning I must have forgotten my set.”

“You can borrow some of my tools,” I told her. “I bought the deluxe kit, and it has double of everything.”

Dr. Autry walked up to our table. “Did I hear you say your name was Dante?”

“Uh… yes.” I froze in place.

“That’s rather unusual.”

“I was born in Rome.” My dick started to become hard, and my cheeks felt so hot you’d be able to start a fire simply by touching the corner of a piece of paper to them. I crossed my legs and gave him an innocent smile. At least I hoped it looked innocent.

“But you're American.”

“Actually, at one time I held citizenship not only for the United States, but for Italy and Great Britain as well.”

“You are unusual. I’d like to hear more about you.”

“Hi, Dr. Autry. “ Lori returned with a black and white cat wrapped in plastic. “Are you taking over for Ellison?”

“Hi Lori. It’s good to see you. I’m just here for today. I needed to speak with him about a department matter, but I understand he’s been held up. I didn’t want you to waste the day.”

Ellison had done that on more than one occasion and then insisted we stay to make up the lesson, not caring that he was inconveniencing the students who had other classes to go to.

“Damn. I was hoping you’d replaced him.” That would have been a pleasure and a relief, especially if this hunk was going to take Ellison’s place.

“Afraid not.”

I sighed. Of course not.

Dr. Autry grinned at her, then nodded to Beth and me and went to the front of the lab. “All right, class. Let’s get started.”

“Wipe your mouth,” Lori whispered to me. “You’re drooling.”

“Sorry.”

“And remember, he’s an instructor in this university, even if it is part-time. You can’t bump uglies with him. It’s not allowed.”

Well, shoot. “Uh… excuse me.” I hurried up to the front of the room. “I have to use the restroom,” I told Dr. Autry.

“I thought I saw you coming out of the restroom a short while ago.”

“You were in the Computer Sciences building?”

“I’m all over.”

“Right. Excuse me, please.” That nagging pressure in my abdomen told me I’d better get to the restroom in a hurry, even if I wasn’t going to be able to get more than a few drops out, and I bolted out of the lab.**

By the time I made it back to my lab partners, Lori and Beth had decided I would be the one to start the dissecting process, which began with skinning the cat.

I chose a scalpel, ran the blade across Sylvester’s neck—because no matter what anyone said, if I was going to work with this cat for the next six weeks, I wasn’t going to simply call him—her—“cat,” and then began the long cut from the neck down to the tail.

I could feel sweat break out on my brow and drip into my eyes. I blinked a few times, shook my head, and blinked again as the scalpel slipped from my fingers.

“Dante?”

It was a woman’s voice, but I couldn’t tell if it was Lori or Beth. I swallowed, and then everything went dark.

**

“Dante?” Warm fingers gently slapped my cheek.

“Stop manhandling me,” I grumbled. I opened my eyes to look into startlingly blue eyes. “Dr. Autry?”

“Yes. Are you all right?” Those eyes actually appeared concerned, which was kind of nice.

“I’m… Uh… I need to use the restroom.”

Fortunately, he didn’t say Again? “Are you steady enough on your feet? Beekman, help Mr. Edwards to the men’s room.”

How come all of a sudden I was Mr. Edwards and not Dante?

“Because the entire class is watching,” he said softly, and I wanted to bang my head against the desk.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“I’m afraid so. Go on. I’ll talk to you after class.”

“Come on, Edwards. I don’t have all day to babysit you.” What was Beekman pissed about?

I frowned at him. Come to think of it, he’d been at that party a week and a half ago, and I vaguely remembered him being awfully chummy then.

I opened my mouth to tell him he’d better get checked out for STDs, since I was pretty sure he’d given me one, but then I decided to wait until I’d been tested.

I went into a stall, peed—still bloody—and I thought I’d pass out from the pain. I leaned against a wall and struggled to catch my breath.

Beekman was gone by the time I exited the stall. I washed my hands, went down to the student lounge and got a chocolate bar from the vending machine. I sank down onto one of the chairs, made myself comfortable, and tore the wrapper off the candy bar.

After about half an hour, I started to feel better, and wasn’t that just great? Now I had to worry about low blood sugar as well as having an STD. I left the lounge and headed back toward the lab to collect my backpack.

If there was a God, maybe Dr. Autry would be gone as well.

No such luck. He stood there wiping down the white board.

“Dante. Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really.”

“Are you sure you want to continue taking this class? If dissecting a cat is enough to make you pass out…”

“It wasn’t Sylvester’s fault.”

He swallowed a smile, and I wished I could have seen what his face looked like when a full-blown smile took possession of it.

“I live on a farm,” I explained. “I’ve seen cattle butchered.”

“Then what is it?”

I looked away.

“You’re not feeling well?”

I nodded.

“Suppose you come to my clinic after lunch?”

“I have to get my uncle’s car home.” I sighed and looked up at him.

He stared into my eyes, and for some reason, I couldn’t tear my gaze from his. Damn those startlingly blue eyes of his.

“I’ll… I’ll call home and ask Elvira to tell Uncle John I’ve got some classwork to catch up on.”

“Elvira?” If he said Oom poppa mow mow, I was going to… well, no, not knock him down—he was too ruggedly handsome for that. But I’d find something to do to him. Possibly jump his bones?

“She’s my uncle’s housekeeper.” Although I tended to believe she was more than that. They were both mean-spirited people who deserved each other if that was the case.

“Good.”

I got my wish when Dr. Autry smiled, and I wanted to groan and lick his lips. That smile… that beautiful smile…

“He’s a big believer in waste not, want not,” I said distractedly.

And then, oh damn, that pulling sensation returned.

“I’ve got to… I’ll see you later.” I packed up my notebook and dissecting set and bolted for the restroom.

**

Dr. Autry’s clinic was off campus, so I drove there. It served the university town of Mercerville. The clinic was in a long, single-story building, and the grounds that surrounded it were lovely. I wouldn’t have minded exploring them if I didn’t have an appointment to see the gorgeous doctor.

I opened the door and walked into the spacious lobby. Soothing landscapes hung on the walls, comfortable-looking chairs and loveseats were scattered around the area, and off to the side was a fountain splashing into a basin that held a variety of koi.

I crossed to the receptionist’s desk. “I’m Dante Edwards. Dr. Autry asked me to come in.”

“Yes.” She handed me a clipboard with a pen attached to it. “Fill these out, please.”

“Oh, but—”

“Fill them out.”

I found a seat and began filling in the blanks. They were the standard forms, and I was more used to doing this for my mother, but our information was pretty much the same. I worried my lower lip when it came to the section about insurance, then took out the card Uncle John had reluctantly given me and added that information to the form.

With that done, I returned the clipboard to the receptionist.

“The restroom is through this door. The doctor wants a specimen. You’ll find cups there, as well as a marking pen. Put your name on the side of the cup, and when you’re done, leave it inside the little door on the wall.”

“Uh… okay.”

After all the peeing I’d done, I wasn’t certain I’d be able to give the doctor anything, but as soon as I closed the door, the urge overtook me.

I filled the cup, followed the receptionist’s directions, then washed my hands and stepped back into the lobby.

Before I had a chance to sit down, a nurse opened a door. “Mr. Edwards? If you’ll come with me?”

I followed her to a room that was nicer than some of the specialists’ offices I’d been in, waiting with Mama for a doctor to come in and tell her there was no hope.

“My name is Becky,” the nurse said. “I’m going to take your vitals.”

I nodded, removed my jacket, and pushed up the sleeve of my t-shirt. She wrapped the cuff around my upper arm and pressed the button that started it inflating. While we waited, she placed an oximeter on my forefinger and stuck a thermometer in my ear.

“You seem to be running a low grade temperature.” She sat down before a computer and entered the numbers. “Dr. Autry will be with your shortly.”

“Thank you.” I’d heard that before, and I took out my cellphone to read a story I’d saved to my Kindle app.

Before I had a chance to do more than tap the icon, the door opened and Dr. Autry walked in.

“Hello, Dante.”

“Dr. Autry.” I licked my lips. “What… what’s wrong with me?”

“As I suspected, you have a urinary tract infection.”

“I do?”

“You don’t seem as relieved as I’d expected.”

“No, I am. It’s just… Does a urinalysis reveal the presence of STDs so quickly?”

“Your first thought is you might have a sexually transmitted infection?” He looked disappointed.

“Not exactly. I went online—”

“Of course.” He shook his head. “I’m going to prescribe an antibiotic for you.” He took out a prescription pad and began scrawling on it. “I want you to take one tablet every twelve hours and drink extra liquids.” He gave me the prescription, and I folded it and tucked it away in my pocket. Abruptly he asked, “Why did you think STD? Have you had unprotected sex?

I could feel the blood rush all the way up to my forehead.

“I don’t know. I was at a party, and I must have gotten drunk.”

“You youngsters.”

I’m not that young. But I kept my mouth shut. I really couldn’t understand it. Mama and Dad had let me sample sips of wine from the time I was eight, and as I’d grown older, the sips had become glasses. I’d developed a good head for it.

Dr. Autry rose, went to a cabinet, and took out a tourniquet and a needle and red tube. I held out my arm and watched while he fastened the tourniquet around my upper arm. Then he put on a pair of gloves, wiped the crook of my elbow with an alcohol swab, and reached for the needle.

“Okay, little pinch.”

Why did they always say that? I turned my head away and was surprised when it was just a little pinch.

Not that it mattered. I still wasn’t going to look. Seeing a cow get butchered might not bother me, but when it was my own blood, that was another ball of wax.

“All done,” he said, and I stole a peek to make sure he wasn’t lying to me, but he was telling the truth. He removed the needle, dropped it in a sharps container, set aside the tube, and reached for a gauze square, which he folded in two.

“Hold this in place, please.”

While I did, he wrapped a piece of tape around my arm to keep it there.

“All right. It will take from three to ten days to get the results. I want you to make an appointment to come in at that time. If you’re going to be sexually active, we need to have a discussion about practicing safe sex.” He wrote something on a form and circled some numbers.

I didn’t have time to be embarrassed about the future lecture. I knew what that form was. He was going to submit the claim to Uncle John’s insurance. I worried my lower lip. My uncle was one of the most intolerant men I’d ever met, and if he leaned I’d been tested for an STD, I’d never hear the end of it. Uncle John already disliked me because my father was Welsh.

“Dr. Autry, could we work out a payment plan?”

“Excuse me? Why would you want to do that? This test is expensive, and you have insurance. Quite good insurance.”

“I’ll... look, if you don’t submit the bill to the insurance company, I’ll blow you.” I cringed. Oh my God, those words hadn’t just come out of my mouth. How fucking stupid. If it was unethical for him, as my instructor, to bang me, then as my doctor…. I knew there was something of a feud going on between him and Professor Ellison, and if Ellison learned of this, it could cost Dr. Autry his license.

I waited for Dr. Autry to tear me a new one, but he smiled faintly and continued filling out the form. Okay, if he wanted to take it as a joke…

He handed me the paper. “I think it might be a good idea for me to examine you. I’ll just step out to give you some privacy.” He opened a drawer, took out a paper gown, and left the room.

Was he insane? If I dropped trou in his presence, I’d embarrass both of us with a raging hardon.

I clutched the form, grabbed my jacket, and poked my head out the door. Dr. Autry wasn’t in sight, so I took the opportunity and bolted out of the room.

The receptionist looked up when I approached the counter. I thrust the paper at her and headed for the door.

“Wait!” she called. “This says the doctor wants you to make a follow-up appointment.”

“I’ll call,” I lied.

As I reached Uncle John’s car, I wondered how I’d ever be able to return to this university. If I had to see Dr. Autry again, I’d dissolve into a puddle of mortification.

All right, the fact that he’d turned up in the Anat and Phys lab was probably just a fluke, and the odds of him doing so again were slim to none. I’d been going to Mercer U. as a way to get put some distance between me and my uncle, and if I had to give it up, I wasn’t sure if I could survive living under his roof.

I couldn’t leave Mama, however, not when we didn’t know how much time she had.

Well, I’d just have to pull up my big boy pants and deal.

**

The days dragged past—not that I was expecting Dr. Autry to show up in the lab or the lecture hall. Professor Ellison was disgustingly healthy and never took sick time off.

As a matter of fact, I was glad Dr. Autry didn’t show up. The reason why the days dragged was simply because I waited for the phone call that would confirm or refute my suspicion that I had an STD.

So I skulked around campus, hoping I wouldn’t run into Dr. Autry, and paradoxically hoping I would. God, I was one weird puppy.

I did feel better after a couple of days on the antibiotic, but I was no dope, and I continued taking the Cipro Dr. Autry had prescribed for me, finishing the last of the tablets on Friday morning.

I was out at the rabbit hutch taking care of Bugs Bunny, the chocolate mini lop Mama had given me for Easter a couple of years before, when Elvira appeared at my shoulder, scaring the spit out of me.

“You got a phone call,” she said in her harsh nasal voice.

“Oh. Thanks, I’ll go—”

“You know Mr. John don’t like you getting phone calls.”

Which was why I didn’t have many friends. “Who called, Elvira?”

“Some smart aleck who tried to convince me he was a doctor. Must’ve thought I was born yesterday.”

“Who did you think it was?”

“One of your useless boyfriends most likely.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, useless or otherwise.”

“Well, he’s already called a few times.” She sneered at me.

My stomach lurched. “Did he give a name?”

She shrugged. “I put a bug in his ear and told him not to call here again.”

“Why?” If it was Dr. Autry, I’d have to go see him in person to find out the results of my blood tests.

“Because your uncle don’t have any truck with queers, and he won’t have you shaking your tail at any man who looks twice at you.” She looked smug.

“I’ve never—” I shook my head. “Was that all you had to tell me?”

“Your uncle just got back from church, and he’s doing the books. He ain’t gonna be happy if dinner ain’t ready because you’re too busy playing with that critter. Go weed the garden. Then I need you to clean and trim the green beans.”

“Fine.” I scratched Bugs’s ears, gave him a piece of carrot, then secured the hutch and left Elvira standing there.

**

I didn’t mind dealing with the beans. Keeping the garden was one of my chores, and I’d picked this batch of string beans earlier in the day. I snapped off the stem and broke the bean in two, then tossed both ends into a bowl. Every once in a while, though, I’d have one for myself.

Mama came in just as I was about to stuff a string bean into my mouth.

“You have a visitor, Dante.”

Oh, crap. “Does Uncle John know?”

“He’s in his office.”

Phew. “Who is it?” No one I knew came out to the farm. Ever. “A Dr. Autry.”

I started choking on the string bean.

“You know, I don’t usually have this effect on people.” Dr. Autry stood in the doorway, a faint smile on his lips, which were as gorgeous as his eyes. A full lower lip, a perfect Cupid’s bow of an upper lip… I was so screwed.

“What…” I cleared my throat and finally managed to get the words out of my mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“We have something to discuss.”

“We do?”

“Yes. You’re a hard man to get in touch with.”

“That’s my brother’s fault,” Mama said. “I apologize for him. He makes it very difficult for my son to have friends. Dante, why don’t you go out on the porch with Dr. Autry?”

“Elvira wants the string beans done.”

“I’ll do them.” She gave me a look when I started to object. “I’ll be sitting, and I promise I won’t exert myself.”

I rose, waited until she sat down, and handed her the bowl.

“Oh, and you might offer Dr. Autry a glass of lemonade.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t want one.”

“I’d love one.”

I glared at him. “You won’t be here long enough to finish it.”

“Actually, I’ve invited him to stay for dinner.”

I glared at Mama. “Uncle John isn’t going to be happy.”

“I’ll handle your uncle.”

I wouldn’t roll my eyes—that would have been disrespectful—but I’d seen how Uncle John treated her. He’d made her take back her maiden name before he’d allowed us to return to the farm. I’d gone along with it, simply because I didn’t want to cause waves, but when I’d enrolled at Mercer U, I’d used my father’s name.

“Now pour a glass of lemonade for both of you and get out of the kitchen.”

I huffed but did as she ordered. Who’d have thought a woman with one foot on the proverbial banana peel would have the energy to be so bossy?

I filled a glass for Dr. Autry, handed it to him, and kept one for myself.

“Can I get you a glass too, Mama?”

“I think I’ll wait until we have dinner.” She looked a little pale.

“Mama?”

“Don’t fuss. I’m fine.”

I huffed again. “The porch is this way,” I said to Dr. Autry, not really paying attention to my words. I didn’t believe Mama when she said she was fine, but she was a grown woman. Short of dragging her to her bedroom and tying her down, what could I do?

Fortunately Dr. Autry didn’t tell me he knew where the porch was located, having come from the front of the house. I led the way, then gestured to a chair. I took the chair furthest from it and set my lemonade on the floor beside it, but instead of sitting where I’d indicated, he took the chair next to mine.

His knee was practically touching mine, and I shifted in my chair and crossed my legs in an attempt to conceal my erection.

“What did you…” I cleared my throat. “… want to see me about?”

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the past few days.”

“I don’t understand.” But then I realized I did. “You spoke to Elvira?”

“If she’s the woman who sounds as if she comes from down East, then yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”

I gritted my teeth. “She never passed on the message.”

“Is that usual?”

“It is when it comes to this household. John Moore runs it like a tin-pot tyrant. He isn’t the most tolerant of men, even more so when it comes to his only nephew.” I fiddled with my fingers. “So… uh… what did you have to tell me?”

“As I suspected, you had a urinary tract infection. How did the Cipro work out, by the way?” “Fine. I finished the last tablet Friday morning.”

“That’s good.”

I swallowed. “What about the STD?”

“You’re clean.”

I sagged in relief.

“However…”

“However?” I stiffened. I should have known my relief would be short-lived.

“I need to know if you plan to have unsafe sex again.”

“No.” I hadn’t planned on that to begin with. Actually, I hadn’t planned on having any kind of sex at all. Not to say I was saving myself for my Prince Charming, but I did have standards.

“Good.” He reached over and patted my knee. “Now. I was still concerned you jumped to that conclusion so quickly, so I did a little snooping.”

I was pretty sure he wouldn’t have learned much. I didn’t have a lot of friends on campus.

“I discovered the frat house that threw the party has a nasty reputation. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised the University hasn’t disbanded them.” He rested his forearms on his knees and stared into my eyes. “You’ve got lovely eyes.”

“Excuse me?”

“They look like melted dark chocolate.”

“Th-thank you?” I felt myself blush. This man, with his own startlingly beautiful blue eyes, thought my eyes were lovely? I could have wriggled like a puppy. I didn’t, of course, but I could have.

He smiled, but quickly grew serious. “I talked to other students who’ve been to that house, and they confirmed my suspicions. Unfortunately, by the time I drew your blood, it had been too long to tell if there was any Rohypnol in your blood stream.”

I was still enjoying his compliment, wondering where it might lead, and then his words sank in. “Wait, what? I was roofied?”

“It’s a possibility, I’m afraid.”

Well, damn. I thought they liked me—they’d seemed to go out of their way to invite me to their party—but they just saw me as fun and games. I turned red. “I didn’t just say that out loud, did I?”

“I’m afraid you did.”

I sighed.

“Did they hurt you?”

“I don’t think so. I was a little uncomfortable the next day, but nothing to write home about.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I wouldn’t want to think your first experience… am I correct in assuming it was your first time?”

“You know what they say about assuming, don’t you?” I teased. I felt bad when his face became shuttered, and I said, “Yes, it was my first time.” And I folded my lips together tightly. I was not going to say a word about the hairbrush.

“I’m sorry it was like that, and I hope it hasn’t given you an aversion to making love.”

He’d said making love. Not fucking, not screwing, not riding the bologna pony. I couldn’t help grinning at him. “No. As a matter of fact, I can hardly wait.”

I waited to see how he’d respond to that, but he sent another of his slight smiles my way and asked, “Will you tell me something about yourself?”

“You want to know about me?”

“Is that so strange?”

“I… I suppose not.”

“There you have it.”

“All right. Where do you want me to start?” I curled my left leg under me and angled my body toward his.

“At the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

“It’s a good place to start, isn’t it?” He gave me the sweetest smile. I had no idea why he’d driven all the way out to Uncle John’s farm, but I had no intention of looking a gift doctor in the mouth.

“Yes, I guess it is.”

“All right then. How did you get the name Dante?”

“Mama met this dashing Welshman while she was in Rome. She was writing a volume of verse at the time, and he was reporting on something that had happened in Vatican City. After a mad, whirlwind courtship, they married.”

“And shortly afterward, you arrived?”

“No.” I grinned and peeked at him from under my lashes. “It was actually a very respectable two years later. That always burned Uncle John’s butt. He’d have liked nothing better than to sneer at Mama for letting my Dad lead her down the primrose path.”

“Which he apparently hadn’t.”

“No. And not just because my mother would have castrated him if he’d tried. He was… I know it sounds strange in this day and age, but he was a gallant gentleman who treated every woman he met with courtesy and kindness.”

“He sounds like a good man.”

“He was. Mama and I still miss him.”

“What happened?”

“He died from pneumonia. We were in Venice, and they had gone out to celebrate the anniversary of when they first met—they were romantic like that. Their gondola collided with another one and they went into the canal. Dad got Mama up on the overturned gondola, but he went under when an oar hit him in the head. By the time they fished him out, he was alive, but he’d inhaled a good portion of water.”

“I’m sorry.” He rested a hand on my shoulder, and I leaned into it.

“Thank you.” It had been a long time since I’d felt masculine comfort.

“What did you do afterward?”

“We took Dad home to Abergavenny. He still has family there. After he was buried, Mama and I traveled throughout Europe. We never did go back to Venice though. And then she got sick. We didn’t know what it was at first, but finally a doctor diagnosed her as having a viral cardiomyopathy. The meds he put her on—a beta blocker and an ace inhibitor—helped for a while, but she decided it would be a good idea to come home.” I looked away. “She did it for me, not for herself. She misses Dad so much, and I know she wants to join him, but she stays for me.” I brushed a hand over my eyes. “I don’t want to lose her.”

“I can understand that. If you’d like, I’d be happy to examine her.”

“Would you? The doctor Uncle John has her seeing is a quack, and I don’t trust him any farther than I could pick him up and throw him. He doesn’t charge Uncle John much. And he’s willing to make house calls.”

“I’ll speak to her about it after lunch.”

“Dinner.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Uncle John prefers to have it referred to as dinner.”

“He is a tyrant, isn’t he?”

I shrugged. “His house, his rules. He won’t permit me to get a job off the farm, so we’re stuck here.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then sat back, brought his glass to his lips, and took a sip of the lemonade. “This is very good.”

“Thank you. I made it myself.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Why? Because I know how to squeeze lemons?”

“More because you seem to have made lemonade out of the lemons life has handed you.”

“Thank you.” That made me feel good. “Would you like a tour of the farm? Uncle John has some animals—milk cows, pigs, chickens. Perfidia, here.” The collie had come up onto the porch. He laid his head on my knee, and I ruffled his ears.

“He’s got an unusual coat color.”

“It’s called blue merle.” The long-haired coat was blue-gray and black with white markings.

“Well, he’s beautiful.”

“He’s got a beautiful temperament also. He even plays with Bugs Bunny.”

“Who?”

I told him about my mini lop.

“I’d definitely like to—”

The screen door swung open hard enough to bang against the wall. Perfidia bounded off the porch and took off running, and I pulled away from Dr. Autry’s touch. “Mr. John wants to eat,” Elvira snapped, being her usual charming self. “He says your friend can stay if he wants.”

“Why?” He’d never permitted me to bring anyone to the farm.

“He wants to make sure he’s getting his money’s worth. Your ma said Mr. Autry is your teacher.”

“Dr. Autry is—”

“Dr. Autry. And yes, Dante was in one of the labs I covered.” Not quite a lie, and not quite the whole truth. He gave her a smile, and while it would have seen me melting in a puddle if it had been directed at me, Elvira simply curled her lip, then turned her glare on me.

“Don’t keep Mr. John waiting.” She turned and stalked back into the house, slamming the screen door behind her.

“I guess that puts paid to our tour,” Dr. Autry said.

“Yes. But… Uncle John always takes a nap, so we won’t have dessert until he wakes up. So maybe after dinner? If you’d like to stay?”

“I would.”

Yes! “I’m sorry about Elvira. Although if you’ve spoken to her over the phone, she shouldn’t surprise you.”

“Why did Perfidia run away?”

“He’s not one of Elvira’s fans. She tends to chase after him with a broom.” I realized I hadn’t drunk any lemonade, so I picked up my glass and took a sip.

“I wonder if she has latent homosexual tendencies,” he mused, and I started choking.

“What?”

He smiled at me, and I did start to melt. “She’s so obviously hostile toward not only you but me as well. Perhaps she’d prefer a woman’s companionship but is subconsciously suppressing that desire.”

I blinked. “That never occurred to me. I always thought she was just a mean old witch.”

“Well.” He tugged thoughtfully at his lower lip. “There is that.”

I burst out laughing, then had to jump up as I spilled lemonade over my shirt and trousers. “Shoot. I need to get changed. And I’m sure you’ll want to freshen up. I’ll show you where the powder room is.”

“Thank you, Dante.”

He rose, and we crossed the porch to go into the house.

And I nearly tripped over my feet when I felt his warm palm on my lower back, just below the waistband of my trousers.

**

Uncle John, Mama, and Dr. Autry were seated at the dining table when I returned from changing my clothes.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

Usually Uncle John would castigate me in spite of my apology, but this time he just smiled, and I couldn’t help shivering in spite of the heat.

I sat down and bowed my head while Uncle John said grace. I was surprised it wasn’t as long-winded and vitriolic as usual, and I sent Mama a sideways glance. She shrugged, obviously as confused as I was.

A tureen of stew sat in the middle of the table, and Uncle John nodded toward me. “Serve yourself, Dante.”

He always preferred roast chicken on Sundays. Why suddenly stew?

I stared into the tureen, at the pieces of meat, onions, and potatoes, ladled a portion onto my plate, and held it while Mama helped herself.

“Eat up, eat up.”

“I’ll wait until everyone has helped themselves.” I passed the stew to Dr. Autry.

Uncle John frowned at me and scrapped the tureen clean when it came to him.

The conversation flowed, Uncle John beamed, and I kept an eye on him. This was the strangest dinner we’d ever shared, and I wondered what was going on.

**

“Well, I’m off for my nap. Dante, why don’t you show Mr. Autry around the farm.”

Who are you, and what have you done with my uncle? He was never this polite, unless one of his cronies came by for a game of dominoes and a glass of whisky.

“Katherine, don’t play the television too loud.” He yawned, loosened the button of his fly, and went off to his bedroom at the back of the house.

“Might I speak with you, Mrs. Edwards?”

She got misty. “It’s been quite some time since anyone addressed me by my married name.”

“Forgive me for saying this, but your brother is a jerk.”

“No need for forgiveness. He is. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I’d like to examine you at my clinic, if you have no objection. Dante refers to your doctor as a quack, and I thought you might be interested in a second opinion.”

She tilted her head and observed him steadily.

“Mama?”

“I think I will. But right now, I’ll take a nap myself.”

“Send Perfidia if you need me.” I gripped the collie’s ruff. “Understand, dog? You come get me if Mama doesn’t feel good.”

He licked my cheek and followed her up the stairs.

I took Dr. Autry’s hand and walked out of the house with him in tow.

**

“This is a beautiful farm,” he said. He’d seen the small herd of Jersey cows Uncle John had, as well as the pigs and chickens.

“It is. It’s been in the family for over two hundred and fifty years, since the first Moore came over shortly before the Revolution. And there’s one thing I’ll say for the Moores—they always loved this land. I’m not much of a farmer, but I wouldn’t mind staying here myself if Uncle John didn’t come along with it.”

“What do you plan to do with your life?” “You mean what do I want to be when I grow up?” I gave him a droll grin. “I don’t know. Dad was a journalist, and Mama has actually been published. I’d like to stay in college.”

“Your grades are decent.”

“That’s the key word, Dr. Autry. Decent. If Uncle John didn’t subsidize my tuition—wait a second. How do you know about my grades?”

“I may have looked into your transcripts.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Do you mind?”

“I’m not sure. Ask me after we have dessert.”

“Mmm.”

“I can’t keep calling you Dr. Autry. What’s your name?”

“Micajah.”

“Excuse me? But everyone calls you Cage.”

“My last boyfriend detested my name.” A dull red crept up his cheeks.

Boyfriend? Dr. Autry was gay? I’d hoped, but… he was gay? It took an act of will to keep from flinging myself at him and kissing him with abandon.

“Rod was the one who started calling me Cage,” he continued, unaware of how close he was to being molested. “It’s an old family name. Micajah Autry was a sharpshooter who fought at the Alamo.”

“Seriously? That’s so awesome! I wish there was interesting stuff like that in my family tree.”

“But then you speak five languages in addition to English.”

“How do you know that?”

“I may have made it a point to look into your background.”

“As well as my transcripts? Why?”

“I had my reasons.”

“If you knew about me, why ask me to talk about myself?”

“I have a weakness for your accent, and I wanted to hear more of it?”

“Why, Micajah?”

“I happened to be outside Professor Carver’s door when you were there. I liked the sound of your voice. You have an English accent—did you know?”

“I’ve been working to eradicate it. Uncle John keeps telling me I’m in America now.”

“I wish you wouldn’t. I like it.”

“Yes?” I leaned closer to him. “What were you doing outside Professor Carver’s office?” The professor was head of the language department, and I’d been in his office last spring to talk about the possibility of me becoming a teaching assistant. It fell through because Uncle John refused to allow it.

“We were meeting for lunch. Lionel is an old friend of mine. We go back to when we both arrived in Mercerville.”

“So you’ve been stalking me around campus?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“That’s too bad. Because if you were, I’d have to confess I did a little stalking myself.”

“You did?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“I’m a good deal older than you.”

“Don’t be pompous. Age is a question of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it don’t—doesn’t—matter. And let me show you how much it doesn’t matter to me.” I sidled up to him, slid one arm around his waist, brought the other around his shoulders, and ran the fingers of that hand up the back of his neck.

He shivered, and I felt like the most powerful gay boy on the planet.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, lightly scraped his scalp with my fingernails, and he whimpered. The man whimpered!

I tugged his head down, moistened my lips, and brought our mouths together. His lips were warm and soft, and I liked that he let me control the kiss. I pressed my lips to his in butterfly kisses, then parted my lips and touched the tip of my tongue to the seam of his mouth.

That was when he took control. He bent me over his arm and plundered my mouth, and I had to cling to him to keep from losing my balance.

The man was a world-class kisser, and I wanted to do this for the rest of my life.

By the time he raised me up, I was breathless and so aroused I was tempted to hustle him up to my bedroom on the second floor. The only thing that stopped me was that Mama was just down the hall. As for the barn, which was closer, making love in the hayloft was highly overrated. That straw was scratchy and tended to wind up in uncomfortable places, which I’d learned when I’d decided to strip and have some naughty times with my hairbrush one afternoon when I was alone on the farm.

Micajah smiled into my eyes and pinched my chin. “I’m glad I was at Lionel’s door that day.”

“So am I.” This was my birthday, Valentine’s Day, and Boxing Day all wrapped up in one. “Let me show you Bugs Bunny.” I whistled as I led him toward the hutch. That signal always brought Bugs out into his run, but this time there was no sign of him. “That’s odd.”

And then I realized the door was hanging open. Splashes of blood were all over, and bits of fur and offal were scattered on the ground outside the hutch.

“Oh, no.” I shimmied into the hutch and searched frantically, but there was no sign of Bugs inside. “Oh, no, no, no.” My gut was churning as I backed out.

“Dante?”

I took off running back to the house and burst into the kitchen. Elvira stood at the sink washing dishes. Uncle John didn’t believe in newfangled technology like actual dishwashers. In fact, I was surprised he had a stove rather than making Elvira use the old stone hearth that took up most of an inside wall in the kitchen.

Elvira looked over her shoulder as I stood there, clenching my fists.

“You bitch. What did you do?”

And she smiled, the most smug, self-satisfied, mean-spirited smile I had ever seen. “So now you know.”

“What’s going on?” Micajah asked.

“Why?”

“Mr. John’s decision.”

“Bugs was a pet, he was purely a pet!”

“None of the animals on this farm are pets. Even that damned dog has to work for his keep.”

“He had no right. Bugs was mine.”

“He paid for that critter’s feed.”

“Dante, what is it?” Micajah demanded.

“We had Bugs for Sunday dinner.” Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Your rabbit?” Micajah whirled on Elvira, and she was so startled she shied back. “You bitch!” he snarled.

I didn’t hear what else he had to say. I clapped a hand over my mouth and raced for the downstairs powder room. I didn’t have time to close the door behind me, just got the lid and seat up, bent over, and began vomiting.

“Dante.” Micajah braced an arm around my waist and kept my hair out of my mouth. “I have you.”

How could he want me like this?

“I’d want you any way I could get you, sweetheart.”

“I said that out loud?”

“You did.”

I sagged against him and began to cry in earnest. Micajah stroked my back and murmured soothing nonsense in my ear.

Finally I made myself stop. I ran my sleeve over my face, unable to meet his gaze. I had to be a snotty-nosed mess.

“You’re not,” he said softly. “Here, take my handkerchief.”

His handkerchief was soft and blindingly white, and it must have cost more than the shirt I was wearing.

“It doesn’t matter. Just let it do its job.”

I groaned. “Y’know, I never do that with anyone else.”

“Do what?”

“Spill my thoughts all over the place. I don’t seem to have a filter with you.”

He tipped up my chin and dropped a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I’m glad.”

“Micajah, I can’t stay here.”

“I understand. You can come stay in my row house. I have a spare bedroom.”

“And I won’t leave Mama here. I don’t trust Uncle John not to hurt her.”

“She can come with us. If you wouldn’t mind, she can take the spare bedroom, and you can take the master.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“In the master?”

“With me? Really?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he repeated.

“I’d like that very much.”

“In that case, let’s get you packed.”

“I don’t have much.”

“Then that will give me the opportunity to buy you whatever you need.”

“I’m not a gold-digger.”

“I’d never think that. But I’m going to enjoy buying you pretty presents.”

“Would we be able to take Perfidia with us?”

“Is he your uncle’s dog?”

“Yes, but Uncle John isn’t a dog person. He used to beat Perfidia before we came here. It took me a look time to get Perfidia to accept me. You saw that he still doesn’t like Elvira, and he won’t go anywhere near Uncle John.”

He flushed the toilet. “Wash your face and rinse your mouth, and take me to your bedroom.”

“That’s not a smart thing to say just now.”

“Why is that?”

“My emotions are all over the place. I might take advantage of you.” I took Micajah’s hand, and we went up to my bedroom to begin packing. I couldn’t leave this place soon enough. Although we’d have to wake Mama and tell her we were moving.

“Is that a promise?”

I smiled up at him, unable to believe how lucky I was. A week and a half ago I’d thought I was at death’s door. Although I’d lost Bugs Bunny, we’d get Mama and Perfidia out of this situation. And now…

Now the man with the startlingly blue eyes told me he wanted me.

I was happier than I’d been in longer than I could remember.

~End~