Rory and Philip Ch. 05

This is a continuation of the story of Rory and Philip, two gay college men. This is a long chapter that delves into violence against gays and these two characters and their relationships with their families and each other. If that's not your thing, please find a different story to read!

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After the debacle of the house party, Philip and I had really settled into a better time between us. I was often walking on air. I had a boyfriend - something I'd never been able to say before. We were both committed to our educations, so we were doing our best to accommodate one another's class schedules. Occasionally we'd have a disagreement about things because our schedules did not always overlap well, and one of us would want to spend time together, but the other's schedule said that they needed to be finishing a project or studying for a major exam, but that was the life of a student, and the disagreements never seemed to get out of hand.

We also had the volleyball team. Long back when I first joined the team, it was understood that the team was to be a nice distraction from the other rigors of student life, and was not to get so serious that it became a burden. As a team, we had some success, but there were other teams in the league that were much more aggressively competitive than we were. We had good players, and when we were on the court we played hard, but win or lose, we were just happy with playing together. Somehow we ended up third in the season standings, something that we were happy with. As an intramural league, there were no playoffs, it was all for fun and exercise and camaraderie.

Jeanne, our team captain, sent everyone an email inviting us to a party to end the season at her house that weekend. We were about two weeks before finals, so it was a perfect time - blow off a little steam, but still have time to prepare for exams.

"Hey, you've known Jeanne longer than me," I said to Philip, "is this party going to be 'safe' for you and me? I mean, I know that everyone on the team knows that we are together, but how about other friends?"

"Yeah, Jeanne and Mark, her significant other, are cool with it and make it known to their friends that the only thing they don't tolerate is intolerance."

I sighed a relieved sign, "OK, I hoped that was the case."

On Friday we headed to Jeanne's place. Something seemed off about Philip, but when I asked if he was OK, he just shrugged and said he was fine.

Jeanne and Mark shared a house with another couple, and when I saw an ally flag hanging from the porch I again sensed relief at feeling like Philip and I could just be who we are. The backyard was strung with party lights and there was music blasting from speakers in an upstairs room pointed out to the yard below.

I'd met Mark at some of our volleyball games, even though he did not play on the team, he'd been there for some games just to cheer us on. He greeted Philip and me from behind a grill where he had burgers and dogs heating up.

"Hey, guys, welcome! The food will be ready quickly here, and there are drinks over by the table - help yourselves!"

Philip and I were having a great time, and he kept going back to the bar for more drinks. I was several behind him and still felt a buzz, and he was clearly getting drunk.

"Come on, let's dance!" he said to me, pulling my hand.

I followed him into the lawn where several people were dancing to the thumping music, and I did my best to dance with him. As a rule of thumb, "dancing" and "engineering" are rarely spoken about in the same breath, and in my case there was a good reason. I'd never been a proper dancer - and, in truth, I don't think Philip was a proper dancer, either, but as sloshed as he was, he didn't seem to care. What's the phrase - "Dance like nobody's watching"? I think Philip was squarely in that category!

We had some fun trying to dance, and then a slower song came on, and he immediately pulled me close and started to move slowly. He was grinding his crotch into me, and eliciting some cheers from the crowd, especially when he held my face and kissed me right there in front of everyone.

"Philip, don't you think that's a bit much here in public?" I asked him.

"Nonsense!" he said, a bit too loud, "I want everyone to know that we are together!"

He kissed me again, and his hand slid down my back and he squeezed my ass, getting another cheer from the crowd.

I slid my hand down his back and simply patted his bum.

"I think maybe you've had enough to drink for the night!" I said to him.

"No, no, no! I want another one!" he said, letting go of me and heading to the bar. Fortunately for me, and not so much for him, Jeanne met him at the bar.

"Hey, Philip, I think you should go with some water, maybe - give the booze a little break, what do you think?"

"Are you saying that I'm too drunk?" he asked.

"I've never seen him go this crazy," I said to her, "have you?"

"No," she replied, then said to him, "Philip, let's go get something to eat, maybe, and have a bottle of water, instead. We're just getting concerned."

We steered him to the food table and then he and I found a couple of empty chairs and sat down.

"What's going on, man? I've never seen you sock away drinks like this!"

He looked at me and tears welled up in his eyes.

"My mom left my dad," he said, "He called me just before you got to my dorm."

"Oh, shit! Hey, I'm sorry! Why didn't you tell me?"

"And ruin the party?"

"Come on, dude, we needed to talk about this!"

"Oh, Rory, I will, I just want to forget about it tonight, OK? I know that won't make it go away, I just don't want to think about it!"

But, he apparently did think about it, as he started to cry. Not knowing what else to do, I hugged him and he sobbed. He probably only sobbed because he was so hammered.

"Uh oh!" he said, pushing me back.

I started to ask what "uh oh" was about, but I could see on his face that he was about to hurl, and I quickly helped him to the edge of the backyard and he puked, luckily in the grass by the fence. After a couple more heaves, Jeanne was there with a bottle of water for us.

"Here, Philip, here's some water - rinse your mouth out, OK?" I said to him.

Soon, Mark was there with a hose and was hosing down the area. He came back with a couple of traffic cones and some "CAUTION" tape and blocked off the area.

"Don't want anyone stumbling into this!" he said, laughing.

Jeanne glared at him.

"Mark, give the guy a break!"

"What? It's just a joke!" he replied to her.

Even Philip agreed.

"Yeah, it's OK, Jeanne, it is funny. I'm so sorry I upchucked all over your lawn!"

"Upchucked?" Mark said, almost doubling over with laughter, "Man you hurled! It's OK - not the first time it's happened - that's why I have the cones and the tape!"

Philip looked at me.

"Maybe I need to walk back - you can stay, I'll be fine. Jeanne, great party, but I have something I need to work through."

"Hey," I said to him, "I'm not letting you go home by yourself. Go hit the bathroom before we go - clean yourself up a bit. Jeanne, Mark, it was fun. It was a good season of volleyball, too."

"I hope that you're on board for the fall semester, too!" she said to me, "If I don't see you before you go, have a good summer!"

Philip went into the house and Jeanne looked at me.

"Is he alright?"

"I don't know - some bad news from home. I'm sure he'll be OK."

The two of us decided that the walk back would help him. He was pretty drunk, and we walked arm in arm, mostly so I could support him.

As we rounded the corner toward his dorm suddenly three guys popped out of the shadows and stood in front of us. I could sense that at least a couple more stepped in behind us.

"Well what do we have here?" one of them started, "A couple of faggots? Gay boys? Do you know what we do to gay boys?"

"Hey, my friend here had too much to drink at a party, I'm just trying to get him back to his dorm, we don't need any trouble!" I replied.

"Yeah? Well we've been watching you two for a while - and now, here you are walking all pretty, arm in arm. You queers! We're gonna teach you a lesson on queers! You two make me want to wretch!"

The next thing I knew someone grabbed me from behind and the one who was doing all the talking grabbed Philip and punched him hard in the stomach. Philip immediately threw up again all over his attacker. It would have been funny, but the guy who grabbed me turned me and punched me in the stomach, too. I doubled over in pain and I felt his knee catch me in the face. I saw stars and felt more punches to my midsection and one more to the side of my face. I remember falling to the ground and feeling more blows, then I blacked out.

The next thing I did remember was awakening with an EMT hovering over me. At first she was really blurry but eventually came into focus.

"Hey," she said to me, "I'm an EMT, and we are going to get you cleaned up a little and get you to a hospital."

When I breathed in a pain shot through my side like I'd never felt before. I winced and groaned.

"Try not to breathe too deeply," she said to me, "I'm pretty sure that you have at least one or two cracked ribs, and they're going to hurt a lot if you breathe deep. Try to talk quietly, but I want to ask you some questions, OK? First, I'm Kelly, and what's your name?"

"Rory," I said in a whisper. The pain in my ribs was excruciating.

"OK, Rory, and how about this other guy, do you know him?"

"Philip! Shit! Is he OK?" I said, trying to sit up and look around, but the pain in my ribs and my head made that impossible

"Relax, please," she said to me, "I think you'll both be fine, but you got beaten up pretty badly."

I turned my head to see other EMTs attending to Philip as they loaded him onto a gurney and started to put him in an ambulance.

"Where are they taking him? I need to go with him!" I said.

"Shh! Relax Rory! We'll get you going, soon, too, they just need to get him to the ER quickly."

"Why? What did those apes do to him?" I asked, starting to panic.

"Shh! Rory, calm down, please! He'll be fine, and we need to worry about you. Aside from your ribs, can you tell me what other pain you're feeling?"

I thought a little bit. I realized that I was only really able to see from my right eye. I reached my hand to my left eye and jumped at my own touch. I could also feel that my lip was swollen.

"God, I ache all over, and I guess those guys hit me pretty good."

"Well, 'good' is not the word I would choose," she said to me. "Now, we are going to roll you onto a backboard so we can pick you up. We'll be as gentle as possible, but I'm going to tell you that it will hurt. From palpating your ribs, I think they are cracked, hopefully not broken through. So when I tell you, we will roll you to your left side and slip the backboard under you, then roll you on top of it. Are you OK with that? If you need to yell, you do so. Cracked or broken ribs are tough to deal with. You can hold my hand, too, if that helps."

I took her hand and on three we rolled me to my left - it hurt like hell, but I managed to keep it to a loud groan. As I rolled back onto my back, the backboard was only about three quarters under me, and I felt the hands of the EMTs lift me the rest of the way onto the board. They strapped me on and then lifted me onto a gurney, and slid the gurney into an ambulance.

"Alright," I heard Kelly say, "let's get going!"

She climbed out the back and another EMT climbed in.

"Wait!" I said, "Can Kelly ride with me?"

"She's the driver," said the EMT that was with me.

"Can't you drive?" I asked, "I kind of got used to talking with her!"

"Hey Kelly," he said to her, "he wants you to ride with him - wanna switch?"

"OK, but lights only, and drive sanely! He doesn't need one of your typical rides, got it?"

They switched places.

She smiled down at me and held my hand again.

"He gets a little too enthusiastic about hurrying to the ER, and we don't need that. You need a SMOOTH RIDE more than anything else!"

She said "SMOOTH RIDE" loudly so the other EMT would hear her.

"Do you know how Philip is?" I asked her.

"No, but I think he'll be fine," she replied.

"You think? You don't know?"

"Well, he was completely out of it."

"We'd been at a party and he was way drunk," I said to her.

"Yeah, we figured that - he'd thrown up and there was a strong scent of alcohol in the vomit."

"Ugh, I guess you guys deal with some pretty gross stuff, huh?" I asked.

"Well, being in EMT is not as glamorous as you might think!" she said, smiling at me.

We got to the ER and I was whisked away and was hovered over by several doctors. X-rays and scans and procedures were interspersed with long periods of waiting. They confirmed two cracked ribs on my right side, a cracked right Zygomatic bone - the one by the eye. I kept asking about Philip, but I got no answers - HIPAA laws, I guess.

I fell asleep again and vaguely remember being moved around. I woke up in a regular room at the hospital. Confused at first about where I was, I looked around. As I did, I saw Angie almost leap up from the chair.

"Rory! You're awake! I was so worried! You look terri - I mean you look... God, you look like you've been through the wringer!"

"Angie - how did you get here? Why are you here? How did you know?"

"You listed me as your emergency contact, apparently!"

I did - I put her in, not my parents. I remember having to defend that to the nurse at the campus infirmary. Well, yet another thing that I'd have to explain to them.

Angie was at my bedside and holding my hand.

"What the hell happened?" she asked.

I told her about being at the party, Philip getting so drunk and about walking him home, and then getting jumped.

"Do you know how Philip is?" she asked.

"No, they wouldn't tell me anything." I replied.

She got quiet for a minute.

"Rory, you need to tell your parents about this, you know?"

"Yeah, I know - but when I do, I'll have to out myself to them, won't I?"

"You can tell them that the thugs thought you were gay, but you can also tell them that you were just helping a friend get to the dorm?"

"You know that my mother will see through that like a window, right?"

"Yeah, you may be able to fool your dad with it - he's in complete denial, but probably not your mother."

I sat there for a minute pondering what to do.

"Hey, I'm really thirsty, can you hand me that cup?"

She did and I took a drink. I looked at the call button clipped to the sheet and I pushed the button, and we waited for the nurse to show up.

"Do you need something?" a voice asked as a young man stepped in.

"Do you know how long I'll be here?"

"No, that's up to the doctors. You have two cracked ribs, and a cracked eye socket bone, so I'm sure they'd like to keep you here for a day or so to be sure that there's nothing else too serious going on. By the way, the police have been asking if you can give a statement to them. I won't call them unless you tell me that you're up to it."

I glanced to the wall to see a dry-erase chart with some names on it.

"Are you James?" I asked.

"Yes, that's me. I'm the floor nurse this shift - though I go off shift about an hour from now."

"Thank you, James," I managed. "So why doesn't it hurt to breathe? Last night it hurt like hell!"

"The wonders of pain medication!" he said.

"Are they opioids?" I asked.

"You have some morphine in your IV," he replied.

"I don't want an addiction. I'd rather have some pain than that!"

"Well, it's only a small dose. You can ask the doctor more about it. Don't worry about it - you'll be fine. Let the ribs heal a little bit before you worry about that."

"OK. You can tell the police that I'll give a statement whenever they'd like."

He left and I started thinking about what had happened and what I could tell the police, and then I thought about my parents and what I would tell them.

There was a knock on the door, and a policewoman entered the room.

"Excuse me, Mr. Edwards, I am Officer Thomason from the Manhattan Police. I need to get a statement from you concerning last night's events."

She looked at Angie, and then at me.

"I'll go out for a few minutes - how long will this take?" Angie asked the policewoman.

"Maybe a half an hour, I'd guess. Are you his sister?" she asked.

"Not really, no."

"Not really?"

"We are very close friends - I love her like she's my sister," I said.

"A girlfriend?" the officer asked.

"No - more like a sister," I replied.

I got a glance from the officer and then she looked at Angie, who was nodding in agreement.

"Please give us some time," she said to her, then turned to me, "you can have a lawyer present, you know."

"What the hell would he need a lawyer for?" Angie almost leapt at the officer.

"Whoa, sister, settle down!" the officer said to her.

"He got the shit kicked out of him, why would he need a lawyer - he can't possibly be a suspect?!"

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave us now, please!"

"I'll be fine Angie," I said, "come back in a half-hour. See if you can find Philip, OK?"

She glared at me as she walked to the door.

"If this bitch gets any kind of suspicious with you, you stop her and ask for a lawyer - Dad will help you pay for it, I promise!"

She left and the officer turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

"She's a bit, um, spirited isn't she?"

"She's very protective of me. We've been best friends since we were kids," I replied.

"Do you need protecting?" she asked.

"Maybe sometimes. Don't we all?"

"OK, Mr. Edwards, that's not what I'm here to talk about, I need to get your statement."

"First tell me why would I need a lawyer?" I began.

"I ask the questions here," she started, getting authoritative with me.

I just looked at her without saying a word.

"Mr. Edwards - may I call you Rory?"

"Sure. Now why would I need a lawyer?"

"Rory, the circumstances are these. The young men you fought with have told us that you two attacked them and they were defending themselves. I need to hear your side of things."

"You've talked to those apes?" I asked. "You know who they are? And what do you mean 'fought with'? They jumped us! Neither one of us even got a swing in!"

"A group of students were holding them down when the campus police arrived, and they held them until we did. There are several different stories going on. The stories they tell us don't make much sense to me, but they told us that you two jumped them while they were just walking home from a party. The group of students who were holding them down said that they were beating you pretty severely, which is kind of evident, but I still need to hear from you what was going on."

I told her my side of things - that we were walking home from a party. I did not want to tell her that we'd been drinking, but felt like I needed to. I did not tell her why they attacked us - I was not that ready to have a police record outing me, or Philip, as gay. I told her that I remembered Philip throwing up on the ring leader, and that I was hit a few times before passing out, then I knew nothing until the EMTs were there. I did not know that there had been anyone else there.

"That's quite a different story than we'd heard from the others, but it does seem more consistent with the fact that, other than bruises on their hands, the other guys have no injuries and you two do. And it matches with what the other students told us. Do you know why they would attack you like that?"

I looked at her long and hard before I answered.

"They thought that we were gay."

"Are you?" she asked.

"What difference does that make?" I asked. "They accused us of it, and started beating us up."

"What did they say?" she asked, "Try to remember the details."

"Well, the kind of leader, I guess, called us faggots and gay boys and disgusting queers. Then he said that they wanted to teach us a lesson on queers."

"I see. And what had you done to make them think that you are gay?"

"Again, what difference does that make? A bunch of homophobic thugs jumping us because we are two guys walking together. Philip was quite shitfaced and I needed to help him back to his dorm."

"You do know that you're both too young to be drinking, don't you?"

"Are you blaming us for getting jumped and beaten up? Maybe I do need a lawyer!"

"Alright, calm down," she said to me, "I'm just trying to get all of the facts straight."

After writing down the things we talked about, she left telling me that I may need to come to the station once I was released from the hospital to give a recorded statement, too.

"Have you talked to Philip, yet?" I asked.

"Not yet - he has not regained consciousness."

"What?"

"I'm afraid that I can't say more."

She left and I was starting to get into a panic, but Angie reappeared as soon as the officer left. There were tears in her eyes.

"Rory, Philip is in a coma - he's been beaten worse than you. He has a broken jaw, a cracked skull, and a ruptured spleen. I talked with his father, he's really worried."

That statement made me worry.

She asked me about the police interview and I told her what I'd learned - that a group of students had caught, and held, our attackers until the police arrived, and that the attackers had told the police that we'd attacked them.

She held my hand and kept stroking my arm as we talked.

"Rory, I can't lose you," she said.

"Angie! Why are you going to lose me?" I asked.

"Because some homophobic shithead might have killed you, that's why! You've got to get out of Kansas - we're too backward here!"

"And go where?" I asked, "Gay people, black and brown people, Jews, Muslims - there are bigoted assholes everywhere who will beat people up for half an imagined reason. I just have to move forward - I can't let them win!"

She hugged me - or at least tried as I lay there in the hospital bed and cried.

"Angie - do you know how lucky am I to have you care about me?" I asked. "If it weren't for you, I'd already be dead. But, listen, I'll be fine - this will all heal, and I'll be stronger and smarter for it."

After a while she sat back up.

"We have to tell your parents - well, you have to. Or I can call your mother - she'll listen to me, and then she'll just be mad that you didn't call her in the first place."

"I have to tell them," I said.

She just looked at me.

"I mean, I have to tell them that I'm gay. This incident just emphasizes that to me. I have to be honest with them. Mom at least suspects it and probably Dad, too, but I can't even imagine how he'll take it, and what it might do to them. Still, I have to be honest with them, don't I?"

"Yes, you do need to. I understand why you've kept it from them, but we know that you can't keep it from them forever."

"Will you call her? My mother, that is? Tell her that I got beaten up, and ask her to come?"

She agreed and called. I could tell by her reaction that they were both coming right away.

"Now for the really big favor?" I asked her after she hung up.

"No, Rory, I will not tell them that!" she said, assuming that I was going to ask her to tell them that I was gay.

"No, not that!" I said, "but - I want you to be here when I tell them. I need your support - please?! Just stay with me - hold my hand, even?"

"You know when I've called you a big dumb jerk before?"

"Yeah?"

"Of course I will, you big dumb jerk!"

She grabbed my hand and leaned in and kissed my cheek.

"I love you, you big dumb jerk! I'll always be here for you!"

I hugged her to me as best I could with an IV and in a hospital bed.

"Now," she said, backing off, "I need to go pee and find a quick bite. They'll be here in about an hour, so I've got to go quickly."

As she headed out the door, I decided that I needed to pee, too. I pushed the call button and a new nurse came in.

"Hello, Mr. Edwards, I'm Samantha," she said, erasing the names on the chart and filling in hers as the LPN and Joe as the RN for the shift.

"Hi Samantha, can I get up to go to the bathroom?" I asked.

"Hmm, you're chart says 'no' - the doctor will be here in a little while to check you out, then maybe."

"But, I need to pee!" I said.

"No problem, you'll just need to use a urinal," she said, handing me a plastic bottle and a couple of tissues.

"Do you need any help with this?" she asked rather casually.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I can handle it," I answered.

"OK, just call when you're done and I'll take it away."

I did my best not to make a mess and capped the urinal and called her again. Before she got there the door opened and Angie walked back in.

"Oh, for me?" she asked mockingly when she saw the urinal with liquid sloshing around.

"I made it myself!" I said.

"I love that you can still make a joke in these circumstances!" she said, smiling at me.

About that time, Samantha walked back in. She took the bottle to the bathroom and emptied and cleaned it for me.

"Ugh!" I thought, "what'll I do when I need to take a dump? I hope the doctor clears me to walk soon!"

Angie sat in the chair in the room and ate the sandwich she'd bought at the cafeteria. My parents arrived shortly after.

"Rory! My God! Oh, my baby!" my mother burst into tears on seeing me, and rushed to my side. My father's face went ashen when he saw me, and he, too, came to my side.

"Who did this to you?" he bellowed, "I'll kill them!"

"Well, it's a good thing the police aren't here to hear you say that!" I said.

"Ah, you know what I mean!" he said.

I gave them a slightly cleaned up story about how I'd been at a party with a friend who'd had too much to drink and was walking him to his dorm when we got jumped, and how I'd ended up here, and that Philip was still unconscious.

The room fell silent for a long several seconds.

"And why did Angie get a call before we did?" my mother asked.

I could not tell from her voice if she was more angry or more confused by the situation. I looked at Angie and I nodded to her, and she knew just what I needed from her, as she walked to the bedside and took my hand.

"I'll get to that," I said, "but first I need to tell you some things. Philip and I were at the party together, and when I say 'together' I mean like it was a date for us. We've been dating for a while now."

"What the hell are you saying?" my dad said, his voice rising.

"Dad, Mom, I'm gay. I know that this is not the best way to have told you, but the circumstances are such that I cannot hide it from you any longer. Angie was the first person, and for a long time, the only person I confided in - she's been my rock and support through my self discovery of who I am. When I needed an emergency contact, I had to put her down since she was the only one who knew. I'm sorry, I know that I should have put you guys down first, but I've been so conflicted with all of this."

My father's face was deep red.

"No son of mine is going to be a faggot! You are not going to make this choice just to spite me and my church! You are not gay - it's an abomination! I forbid it!" he shouted.

"George, calm down, for God's sake, this is a hospital," my mother sounded in.

"Dad, it's not a 'choice' - it's who I am. It's how I'm wired!" I said.

"Then we'll get you rewired! Didn't getting the shit kicked out of you show you how wrong you are?"

"You're not hearing me, Dad! It's who I am! Its. Who. I. Am."

He looked at me with the anger that I was expecting, and then looked like he might have a heart attack right there. He turned on his heels and stormed out of the room. My mother looked after him, and then at me, and then at the door again.

"I'll be right back!" she said, before also going out the door.

"So, that could've gone better," I said to Angie, "but it was about what I expected - rejection."

Tears welled up in my eyes and Angie again did her best to hug me as I lay in the bed. The heart monitor at my bed side was now reading almost 110 bpm, where my normal resting rate was on the order of 60.

The door burst open and Joe, the RN was there.

"Did something happen?" he asked, "the alarm on your heart rate is set at 95."

He looked at me crying, and Angie holding onto me.

"He just had a hard conversation with his mother and father, I'm sure he'll calm down," Angie said to the nurse.

Joe just looked at the two of us.

"Yeah, I had that conversation once, too. Are you OK?" he asked me.

"Right now? No. But I will be."

"Look, I've been where you are - well, not from a hospital bed, but having that conversation. If you want to talk, I'm a sympathetic ear."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind. Angie has been here for me for a long time."

"Lucky you!" he said, looking first at me, then at her. "I wish I'd had a confidant like that. Still, I'm here if I can be - though it's a busy floor today, but I'll be sure to check in."

He left the two of us alone.

"Damn, Rory, I'm sorry he reacted that way!" Angie said to me.

"Yeah, like I said, it's about what I expected. After all, God, and my Dad, hate fags!"

"Stop it!" she said, "You know that's not true!"

"Maybe about God, if there is one, but it sure is true about Dad!"

A knock on the door interrupted and it slowly opened for a man about my father's age.

"Excuse me, Rory? I'm Dale Atkins, Philip's father. Do you mind if I come in and talk to you."

"Look, Mister Atkins," Angie jumped in quickly, "this may not be the best time."

"Please, call me Dale. I don't want to cause any troubles, I just want to hear what happened. Philip is still in a coma - they're medically keeping him that way to let his body do some healing. I just need to find out what and why!"

He saw that I'd been crying and Angie was about to pounce in her protective way, but I patted her hand.

"Mr. Atkins - Dale - I've just had a long overdue, difficult conversation with my parents. It did not go well and I need a few minutes to settle from it. I will talk to you, but give me a little time - maybe a half an hour, OK?"

"Oh - I'm sorry! I know that I'm intruding, but I assumed that they already knew that you were - " he stopped talking and looked at Angie, his face asking the question that he did not speak.

"This is my very best friend, Angie, and yes, she's known probably longer than me that I am gay, so it's fine. Please, I'd like to speak to you, but give us a bit of time?"

"Sure," he said writing his mobile number on a slip of paper, "give me a call when you feel up to it."

He closed the door on his way out.

Angie and I talked about my parents' responses. I knew that this was hard on my mother, because I'd suspected that she at least suspected that I was gay, but I knew that she loved my father, even if she disagreed with him on some things.

About 15 minutes later the door opened and my mother walked in, alone. She walked to the bedside and hugged me and cried.

"Rory, I can't stand seeing you like this. I am so sorry for what happened to you!"

"Mom, it's not like it's your fault!" I said.

"I know, but I don't just mean the bruises. I mean that you didn't feel like you could talk to us - well, especially to talk to me. I've wondered for a while, but I never thought it was my place to push anything."

"Mom, I didn't want to be a wedge between you and Dad!" I said, again starting to well up with tears.

"Oh, honey, you should not have taken that burden on yourself, that's up to me!"

"And you!" she continued angrily toward Angie, "you gained his confidence and he told you before his own family! What are you trying to prove?"

"Mom!" I shouted at her, "Do not blame her for anything! If it weren't for her, I'd probably be dead right now! Be thankful that I had someone to talk to! So many kids in my position don't - and they don't think there's any way out. She saved my life - she truly saved me. You need to go hug her and love her like the daughter you never had - I love her like the sister I never had!"

Mom started to cry uncontrollably - great, heaving sobs. Angie, ever the angel on earth that she is, immediately hugged mom, and they simply hung onto one another while Mom sobbed it out. She slipped out of Angie's arms and buried her head in my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry!" she said, "I'm begging you both to forgive me! Instead of feeling grateful, I felt cheated, but it's my own fault. I should have been there more actively for you, Rory! Angie, you've been an angel to him, and thus to me, too. Please forgive my blind spots and my inactions, and my actions, too!"

Now we were all crying and holding onto one another.

"Mrs. Edwards, it's OK. I know that you were in a tough position. You know that Rory and I have been friends since childhood, and I'd do anything for him. Please don't beat yourself up too much!"

"Really?" I said, "'beat yourself up'? That's the phrase you decided to use?"

It let a little tension out of the room and we all sat back, grabbing tissues from the box on the tray by the bed.

"Rory, your father is taking a long walk in the park. He loves you - you're his son - but he is conflicted right now. He'll come around, I know he will, but probably not today. I told him that I want to stay in Manhattan until you're released, and maybe even after that. He will have to go back to Topeka for work."

"Mom, you don't need to stay here!" I started.

"Oh, no, young man, you will not dismiss me that easily! I've been too distant for too long, and even an hour away is too far! I will try to get your father to come by one more time, then we will go back together and I will come back planning to stay a bit! Now, I need to go find him again - is that OK?"

"Yes, Mom, I understand, you need to find him. I'm looking forward to you returning and we can talk some more."

She left and Angie and I sighed some relief.

I called Dale and asked if he wanted to return.

A few minutes later he arrived at the door again. Angie asked if she should leave, but I asked her to stay. Dale did not look too happy about that, but he really did not have too much of a choice.

"I was hoping that we could talk alone," he said to me.

"I'm sorry, Dale, but right now I need Angie with me. I hope you'll understand, but either she stays, or I don't talk - not now, anyway."

I briefly explained who Angie is to me, and why I wanted her to be there, then I explained to him what had happened - being at the party, too much drinking, and then getting jumped on the way back to the dorm.

"They said that we were queers and they had a lesson for queers, then they started on us. I saw the one guy hit Philip in the stomach - and he threw up on the thug."

"Really?" Angie suddenly interjected, "You didn't tell me that part!"

"Yeah, unfortunately, I don't know much more. I got hit in the gut, too, and then took a knee to the head - at least, I think it was a knee. I went down and felt a couple more hits come my way before I completely blacked out. When I came to, the EMTs were there and they were already whisking Philip away."

"Look, Rory, I know that you and Philip had been seeing each other - I know that he's gay, and it's OK with me, you don't have to be shy or withhold things from me," Dale spoke. "Is there anything else?"

"Not too much. Apparently some students saw the beating and broke it up, holding down the perpetrators until the police arrived. The thugs tried to tell the cops that we'd jumped them, though none of them have any injuries except for some bruised knuckles."

"Yes, the policewoman told me that, too," he replied. "I'm glad that you are no worse than you are. I know that Philip thinks a lot of you. He told his mother and I that he wanted us to meet you - but probably not like this."

I looked a little stunned at that statement.

"Is she here?" I asked.

He looked at Angie and then at me.

"No, she did not make the trip," he said.

"Angie, will you give us a second?" I asked her.

Dale looked at me, knowingly, and then said, "No, it's OK, you can stay. I wish that Philip had someone like you at his side, too!"

Angie was looking at the two of us, very puzzled.

"Dale, Philip told me last night that his mom - well, that your wife - left. I'm sorry to say, but it's why he was drinking so heavily."

"That's not the answer!" he said, anger rising in his voice.

"I know - and he knows. He told me that he knew it would not 'make it go away', but he was just trying to blot it from his mind for the evening."

"Did he tell you why she left?" he asked me.

"No, just that she'd left. I'm so sorry!" I said to him.

"She said that she could not accept his 'lifestyle' - that he's gay. Before she had told both of us that she was accepting it, but then she said that she didn't understand it, that she was too depressed and blamed me for raising a sissy."

"Damn! What is it with people thinking that something someone has done makes someone else gay?" I said. "She sounds like my dad! Shit, no wonder he was hammering back drinks."

"I called her and told her what had happened to you two, and she's very conflicted now. I think she will come here, but I'm not sure that I want her to see him in the bed like that."

After a few moments of silence, he said, "Family. It's never easy or simple, is it?"

"No, not for me, either!" I said. "So, how is Philip, really?" I asked, rather hesitantly.

"Well, the doctor's think the long term prognosis is good, but they are keeping him in a coma to let his body heal. He has a concussion and some swelling of the brain and a cracked skull and a ruptured spleen, in addition to bruised ribs, black eyes and so forth. They already operated to fix the spleen, and they think the swelling will go down in another 36 hours or so, then they think they can wean him off the medication and let him wake up."

He had tears in his eyes as he told us all of this.

"I guess I'm lucky then, though it's odd to say that. Dale, I'm glad to meet you, even if the circumstances suck. I hope that the doctor will let me be up and walking soon, and I'd like to come see Philip, if that's OK with you, of course."

"Absolutely, please do! Thank you for talking to me about this - you certainly weren't under any obligation. I'm sorry that this happened to both of you!"

"Dale," Angie began, "I only met Philip once, but I was very impressed by him. His easy going manner, ready smile, and how he cares for Rory. I'm sorry that this is happening to him and to you."

"Thank you, dear. I can see that he has good and caring friends, and that helps right now. When the doctor lets you out of bed, I look forward to having you visit with Philip."

With that he left.

"I bet you have a ton of homework, you don't need to stay, you know, I understand," I said to Angie.

"Are you trying to get rid of me? I'm staying until I know that you're OK. I have my laptop with me - I was trying to study before you woke up."

"How long have you been here, anyway?"

"They called me about 1:30 this morning. I got my shit together and drove over as quick as I could. I guess I got here about 4:00. I cat napped, but that couch is almost as soft and comfortable as concrete, so I guess I'm pretty tired."

"Thank you for being here for me! I'm sorry I'm such a pain in the ass!"

"Rory! You're my 'brother' and I'd drop anything to be here when you need me. Of course, now that your parents know, your Mom will be there for you, too, so you won't need me as much."

"Oh no you don't! You're in too deep to back out now! You are stuck with me young lady! Now get over here and hug me again!"

She did. The morphine drip was doing its thing because I did not feel any pain when she did.

"But you need a place to stay - you can stay in my room at the dorm!" I said.

"Um, look, it was fine when I stayed there with you, but I don't think your roommate will be too keen on it! Besides, I already booked a hotel room. Dad is paying for it - he told me to stay as long as I needed as long as I could still do my studying. My folks love you, too, Rory."

"Do they know that I'm gay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, a bit sheepishly, "I let it slip at one point when they were bugging me about dating you more."

"And they're OK with it?"

"Yeah, my dad said, 'Good, we know one guy who won't be knocking up my daughter!'"

"He did not!" I said.

"God's truth!" she said, raising her right hand and laughing. "Hey, I think I will go grab a shower and a nap on a mattress that is soft. Is that OK? I'll come back by around supper."

"Yes, please, go get a shower!" I said, pinching my nose until I realized that that hurt, too. "Damn, that hurts!"

"Oh fuck you! Serves you right!" she said, leaning over and kissing me. She gathered her things and started toward the door. "Don't go anywhere!"

I flipped her a bird, with her laughter fading as the door closed.

A while later the doctor popped in. He looked at my cheek and the bones around my eye, and then at my ribs, and all of the bruises. He said that I was lucky in that with all of the bone cracks nothing was displaced and they would heal in place as long as I didn't do anything to further the injuries.

"The ribs will be sore for quite a while since each breath means movement that will cause some irritation. The drip should help with that."

"Doctor, I'm just shy of paranoid about addiction - can I get that turned down? I feel absolutely nothing now."

He reluctantly agreed to back it off a little bit, warning that pain was something not to let run away with me, and I promised to let the nurse know if things got painful.

I also insisted that I wanted to be able to get up and walk around, which he agreed to, but only with assistance, for now, as he was worried that a fall would exacerbate the injuries.

After a while on the slowed meds, I did begin to feel some ache, especially in my ribs as they got stressed with each breath, but it was not too bad, so I decided to tough it out.

My phone buzzed and I got a text from Jeanne.

"Hey, how's Philip today? I bet he has a massive hangover! (laughy face) I hope that you two made it back OK. I'd text him, too, but I don't want to bug him yet!"

I sighed, and sent her a brief text telling her that we'd been jumped and beaten and that we were both in the hospital, and that Philip was worse off than me.

"OMFG!" came the reply, "Can I come see you guys?"

I told her that it was OK, but that Philip was being kept in a medically induced coma for now.

They served me some food at around 4:30 in the afternoon. I ate and then fell asleep. When I woke up, Angie was again seated on the rock hard couch.

"Hey - how long have you been back?" I asked.

"Only about 15 minutes."

"I have to go to the bathroom," I said, reaching for the call button, "The doctor said I can get up, but I have to have assistance."

"Hey, I can walk you to the bathroom," she said, cheerily.

"Um, well, I think I'd rather not - that's getting really personal!"

"So you'd rather have a stranger with you?"

"Look, Angie, I love you like a sister, but I would not invite my sister to be in the bathroom when I take a shit!"

"Oh, Rory, don't you know that I'd do anything for you?" she said as she reached for the call button. "Here, let me call the nurse for you!"

Samantha disconnected the IV, and helped me get to the bathroom, and insisted that she needed to be with me. Not since potty training had I had someone stay with me by the toilet while I did my thing. I did not have to expose much since I just hiked up the hospital gown and sat.

She walked me back to the bed, but instead of getting in, I suggested that we walk to see Philip.

"You either need to let me help tie that gown shut better, or get you another one to wear as a robe!" Angie said as I inadvertently flashed my ass at her.

"Damn it, Rory, even your butt's bruised, and your thighs! What fucking animals those guys are!"

Samantha got me a second gown that I put on over the first so it covered my butt and we walked along, rolling the IV pole with us.

Walking into Philip's room and seeing him in the bed gave me some perspective on people seeing me, and maybe worse. He was asleep - well, in a coma - but his face was swollen and bruised and he had more tubes connected than I did - I basically had the IV, but he had an oxygen hook up and other things.

Immediately my eyes filled with tears. Dale was there and he watched me carefully as I reached out and held Philip's hand.

"Look you," I said quietly to him, "You're my first and only boyfriend, and you need to recover from all of this. I doubt that we'll look back at this and think it's funny, but we'll look back at this and think how much stronger it made us. I will be here for you through it all!"

I looked at Dale - his eyes red and puffy.

"Philip is a strong guy - he will make it through this!" I said to him. "He's strong physically and emotionally - he has helped me in countless ways even in the relatively short time that we've known one another. He'll recover and he and I will be back with our volleyball team in no time!"

"Thank you," he said, "I'm quite hopeful that he'll recover, but the part about being back at volleyball 'in no time' is pure bullshit! But I thank you for saying it, anyway. I'm glad to see that you are up and walking around."

"Only with help, right now," I said, patting Angie's arm, "but, yeah, it's good to get out of that bed for a while."

As we were talking, my phone buzzed.

"Hi, Mom!" I said answering her call.

"No, I'm fine, we walked down the hall to see Philip... No, you should not come and meet him now... no, I'll explain when we get back, just stay there, Angie and I will be there in a couple of minutes... I know, Mom, I love you, too... yeah, I know, I understand, at least, I'm trying to... OK, bye, Mom... yes, I know... Mom! We'll be there in a couple of minutes! Yes... Mom!... Mom!... I'm hanging up now, I'll he there soon!"

"Sorry about that," I said to Dale and Angie, "she never can say a simple 'goodbye'!"

"I appreciate you not having her come here right now, but I would like to meet her, if that's OK with you," Dale said to me.

"Um, sure, I'm sure she'd like to meet you, too, under better circumstances!"

We said goodbye to Dale and walked, slowly, back to my room.

I took off the outer gown, trying not to flash Mom, not just from the perspective of not wanting to flash my mother, but also from the scariness that seeing the bruises.

"Why didn't you want me to meet Philip?" mom asked.

"Because, Mom, he's in a medically induced coma, and right now he looks even worse than me."

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry - I should have asked about him earlier - but when you see your own son looking like this you lose perspective!"

"It's OK, Mom, but he took more of a beating than I did. He was pretty drunk, and when the first guy hit him, he threw up all over him. I have a feeling that they were really taking it out on him because of that."

"Why were you with him then? Drinking and partying, that's not why you're here! I think he's a bad influence on you - you need to stay away from him!"

"Mom! I'm not in middle school anymore! There were circumstances - he, well, he just..."

I did not know how much to reveal to her, but I wanted her to know just how family rejection hurt.

"Mom - he'd just found out that his mother was leaving his father, and blaming his father for him being gay. It was, pardon the analogy, a real punch in the gut for him. He didn't even want to tell me at first - he told me only after I asked him why he was drinking like that - I'd never seen him do it before. It hurt him, Mom. Inside. Deep down in his soul. Why was I with him? Because I care about him, and I knew that he needed me to be there. Hanging onto a drunk friend while they're throwing up is not my idea of a great night, but it's what he needed, and it's where I needed to be."

Again, she welled up with tears.

"Rory, I can't help what your father will say or do, here!"

"I know, that's not on you, but be sympathetic when you hear about others' plights. I know that you'll like Philip - he's really kind and funny and fun to be with."

"He is, Mrs. Edwards," Angie agreed.

A knock at the door diverted our attention and Jeanne and Mark poked their heads in.

"Holy shit!" Mark burst out.

"Rory!" Jeanne said, "Damn! Did they catch the animals that did this! You said Philip is worse? How can that be? I feel so awful!"

Mom and Angie were just staring at them not knowing who they were.

"Um, Jeanne, Mark, please meet my mother, Joanne, and Angie, my BFF from elementary school on. Ladies, this is Jeanne, from my volleyball team, and Mark."

Greetings went around the room.

Jeanne smacked Mark's chest, saying "Nice lead in! 'Holy shit!' - what the hell was that, you're not supposed to say that to him!"

"It's OK, Jeanne, I've seen my face in the mirror, I understand."

Now Samantha, the nurse came in.

"What are all these people doing here? Rory needs rest, not a conference! You will have to leave!"

"Samantha," I said to her, "It's OK - these people all mean a lot to me, and they're just concerned. When I get tired, I'll send them away."

"Well, four is just too many people in here - please try to limit things!"

"We won't stay too long," Jeanne said to her, "I just needed to come and see him."

"I suppose it's good for him that he has friends who care enough to come by, then," she said as she went back out the door.

"I can't believe this happened to you two - I wish I'd asked you to stay at our place!" Jeanne continued.

"No, it's not your fault!" I said.

I told them the whole saga of the thugs, the students who held them down, the thugs trying to tell the police that we'd jumped them, and Philip being beaten worse than me.

"Did this have anything to do with why he was so upset?" she asked me.

"No - just a bad coincidence. His father is here - he'd probably appreciate if you stop by - knowing that Philip has friends who care will help him out. But Mark, please don't lead with 'Holy shit!'. I'll warn you, he looks worse than me right now."

"If you need anything - ANYTHING - you let us know, OK?" Jeanne said as they headed to the door. "We'll stop in to see Philip and his dad - even if I have to gag Mark!"

"Take care, Rory - heal quick!" Mark added, "and sorry for the outburst!"

"It's cool," I said, "I probably said the same thing when I first saw a mirror!"

When they'd gone, my mother started in again.

"They should not have been serving alcohol to underage students! I am going to have a word with this school!"

"Mom! Calm down, please! This was not their fault - remember it's the thugs who jumped us. They'd have jumped us even if we were cold sober. There were at least five of them against the two of us. Sober would not have changed the outcome.

"Listen, maybe Samantha was right about one thing - I'm really tired, and a bit sore. Can you two go get some coffee together, or something, and just chat and catch up?"

They looked at each other and then at me.

"I'd really like that, if you're willing, Angie," my mother said.

"Sure Mrs. Edwards, that sounds good, though I do have homework to get to, so not too long, OK"

"Of course, dear, but I must insist that you call me Joanne, Mrs. Edwards sounds too formal."

"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that - I've known you almost all my life as Mrs. Edwards. How about Mama E.?"

"I could deal with that!" she said and they hugged each other.

Mom stopped at my bed, and hugged me.

"I love you, Rory, and I'm so sorry for not being there for you, and I assure you that I am here for you, now, however this plays out. Please confide in me. You're my son and I love you no matter what else happens!"

"I love you, too, Mom. It's all water under the bridge - we can only start from now, right?"

"Why are you so wise?" she asked me.

I looked right at Angie, "I guess I've had an angel who's been training me!"

"I love you, Rory!" Angie said to me.

"I love you, too! You two go talk a bit. I'm going to get some sleep.

They left and I settled in, as best I could in my hospital bed and fell asleep.

It's hard to sleep well in a hospital. The machines are beeping and then a nurse comes in to check on you. Still I managed to get a decent night's sleep.

Mom came back around 9 or so on Sunday morning. She had been shopping and presented me with some fresh boxers.

"Can't have you flashing your behind to everyone!" she said to me.

"Did you two have a good talk?" I asked her.

"Yes, we did," Mom answered, "I'm still a bit jealous that she knows, and has known these things and I did not, but really, I understand. I'm mostly sad that I didn't talk to you about it. That's my job, and I let you down."

"Hey, as I said last night, we can't dwell on that - let's just move forward from now - it's all we can do, anyway!"

"Well, I asked her if I could have some time alone with you so we can start that talk."

We did talk. I asked about Dad and what he was saying. She reluctantly told me that he was very angry and talking about disowning me. I both didn't want to hear that, and did want to hear it, if that's what he was saying. She believed that he would come around, but she was always a bit Pollyanna about things.

"You should not worry about that, though," she told me, "I have my ways of moving him to my way of thinking on things, and you are still our son!"

I was relieved that she really did not get into any "are you sure you're gay" kind of questioning/reasoning, rather she just accepted that this is who I am. We talked about Philip, how we met, how we started seeing each other, and carefully avoiding any talk of physical relationship.

"His father is here - I met him yesterday for the first time. He said that he'd like to meet you, if that's OK."

"I would like that. I'd like to meet Philip, too."

"Mom, he's in really rough shape right now."

"I understand that, but he means something to you, so I want to see him - even if he doesn't know that I'm here."

"I can call Dale in a little while - we can have him come by here. He's already stopped in twice. Then we can decide if you..."

I never finished the sentence because the door flew open.

"Dios mio! Rory! Have you seen Philip?! Esos maltidos gilipollas! Les arrancare las putas cabezas!! Estupidos hijos de puta!"

"Christina! Hey, settle! Christina - my Spanish is not that good, I don't even know what you're saying!"

"Those asshole, motherfuckers! I'm going to rip their cabezas right of their shoulders! I'm going to cut their cojones off and jam them down their throats! I'm going to slice off their chorizo and shove it up their culo!"

After her tirade she looked over and saw my mother standing there, somewhat in shock.

"Oy, lo siento! I'm so sorry Senora Rory, I presume?"

"Christina, this is my mother, Joanne Edwards, Mom this is Christina."

"I'm so sorry for the foul language! I'm just so enojado - so pissed off that someone would do this to my favorite linda pareja, my favorite cute couple on campus!"

"I'm glad to meet you, Christina. I'd say that my Spanish is a good bit better than Rory's as I caught most of what you were saying!"

"Estoy tan avergonzado!"

"No hay problema, Christina," Mom replied, "It's obvious that you are a fierce friend, and I'm glad to know that they have such amigo feroz!"

Christina then hugged my mother enthusiastically.

"So, Senora Rory, I've known Philip since we were in high school - we were both on the fringes there, him the gay guy, and me the ardiente Latina, and we just got to be friends. I met Rory earlier in the year, here. They are a fantastica pareja. I'm so happy for Philip - and for Rory. Up until now! I'm going to find those bastardos and put them in the hospital!"

About then she burst into tears, something I never thought I would see out of this tough gal. She threw her arms around me in the bed.

"Rory, we can't let anything happen to Philip! Or you!"

I patted her back.

"We'll get through this, Christina! I'm just glad to have you on our side!"

After a very short cry, she was back in pissed off mode.

"Senor Atkins tells me the policia found these cabrones? The town, the university, they better be expelling these shishes and prosecuting them!"

"Hey Christina, how did you know something happened?" I asked her.

"The story is all over campus. I heard that two men were jumped, and I went to see Philip and he never answered the door or his phone. At first I hoped it was because you two were hacer el amor in his room, si? But after a while, I somehow knew that it was you two. I called the hospital and found out that you were here, and now here I am, too."

"So the story has gone around the campus, huh?"

"Si, it's on the tele, too."

"Just so you know," I told her, "the cabrones are telling the cops that Philip and I jumped them, and they were just defending themselves."

"Esos malditos bastardos mentirosos!" she replied, her fists now balled up.

"I'm pretty sure that the cops believe us, but I have this sinking feeling that a trial will get ugly."

She started pacing around the room, muttering Spanish expletives and getting more and more worked up.

"Hey, Christina, maybe you need to go for a run and burn off some negative energy," I suggested. "I really appreciate how upset this makes you - it makes me upset, too, but right now I'm too sore to do much - besides which I have a morphine drip chilling me out, too."

"De acuerdo, Rory, maybe you're right. I'll go for now, but I will be back." She wrote down her number. "You let me know the instant that Philip wakes up. I need to know that he will be OK."

"I promise you. I need to know that, too."

She left and Mom looked at me.

"She's quite fiery, isn't she?" Mom said laughing.

"That she is. In some ways, she's Philip's Angie - his confidant. I've really only met her a few times, but she's very fond of Philip and has gotten attached to me, now, too."

"I'm comforted to know that you have so many friends around you - Angie, of course, but that couple from yesterday and Christina. It's a mother's right to worry, and I do, but it's good to know that you have friends. You didn't have too many in high school - I guess I know why, now - but I was worried about you being here at a big school and getting lost in the crowd."

The doctor stopped in for a brief examination and was pleased with the progress - not that there was much only about 36 hours from the encounter. I felt some soreness but not real "pain" as such, so he left the morphine drip where it was. Based on the nurses reports, he gave me the OK to be in the bathroom alone, but still wanted me to have assistance getting to and from, but he encouraged me to take walks around the halls. I asked about Philip's progress though he would not tell me anything.

After he left I called Dale and asked if he would come by. I introduced him to Mom and she asked about seeing Philip. Dale was apprehensive saying that Philip was still in a coma, and that the swelling on his face was still quite prominent. Mom was charming and disarming and he agreed that she could go.

"How is he doing?" I asked, "The doctor would not tell me."

"They said that the brain swell is easing, though it's not gone, but 'easing' is a good thing. They are hopeful that tomorrow they can start to wean him from the meds that are keeping him in the coma. I'll ask the doctor if I can allow you to be told directly from him. I don't mind if you know what's going on."

They went to see him and I buzzed the nurse to take me to the bathroom. It felt good to be able to be there alone. She came back in when she heard the flush, just as I was pulling on a pair of boxers that Mom had brought. Well, so much for privacy!

Angie arrived and I asked her to help me take a walk. We walked to Philip's room and he looked to me today about like he looked yesterday - pitiful lying in that bed with all the things connected to him. I told Angie what Dale told me - that the brain swell was easing and they were pleased with his progress.

After taking a couple of laps around the floor, we went back to my room and I settled into the bed again. I was normally pretty active, and the desire to just keep moving was there, but my body was sore and tired, and I listened to it when it said it needed rest.

Mom and I talked more after a nap, and she and Angie went out to get a bite to eat, while I had more hospital food, and more naps. Jeanne and Mark came by to visit again and Christina stopped in after supper.

The next day Mom and I walked to Philip's room and I thought that the swelling was noticeably down, and Dale seemed a little lighter.

"They're weaning him off the medication," he told us, "he may wake up as soon as tomorrow morning, or maybe even much later in the day, but probably tomorrow!"

Mom and I each hugged Dale.

"That's such good news!" I said.

About that time the door burst open and a woman I did not know walked in.

"Philip!" she said, rushing to his side, "Oh, my baby!"

I looked at Dale who nodded at me, answering the unasked question about this being Philip's mother.

After looking at Philip for a couple of minutes she turned to Dale, "Who are these people? Why are they in Philip's room?"

"Jackie, this is Rory and his mother, Joanne," he replied.

I reached out my hand to shake hers, but she looked at me with venom.

"You're the reason this happened to him! How dare you show your face in here! Get the hell out of here! Just a pantywaist! Dale, did you invite this pansy here?"

"Jackie," he said, his voice raised, "I cannot allow you to speak to him that way! You know damned well who Rory is to Philip and how much he means to him. Now, I demand that you either apologize or leave, immediately!"

"Apologize? You 'demand'? Just who do you think you are? I am his mother and I can be here if I want to, and I can demand that these people leave, now!"

"It's OK, Dale," I said, "we will go, for now." I emphatically said, "for now" to Philip's mother.

I hustled Mom out the door, followed by Dale.

"I'm sorry," he said, "she's really gone around the bend on this over the last few months, and now, seeing him like this is a bit of a shock. I'll ping you when she's gone, and I promise that you are welcome back. And, Rory, this did not happen because of you, I know it, and so do you. Please accept my apology!"

"It's not your fault," I said, "you should not be apologizing. Believe me, I understand. It sucks when the people you love can't accept you for who you are."

"Dale," my Mom jumped in, "please know that we understand. If you want to talk, please call me. I truly understand how difficult this can be."

As we left, I told Mom how much this shocked me. When Philip and I met he said that his mother had a hard time accepting things, but that she had come to grips with it. I guess that either it wasn't true, or that she was OK with it, but changed her mind on it.

After getting back the doctor came by and OKed me getting myself out of bed and taking a shower.

"I'd like you to stay one more night for observations, still, but probably tomorrow you can go back to the dorm. How are the headaches?"

"Getting less severe, they seem to come on when I've tired myself out."

"That should abate with time, but I want you to keep a journal of them, just in case. If you notice that the frequency or severity are not continuing to go down, then you call us or come by, OK? We'll talk more tomorrow, but I think you can go home."

"I want to be here when Philip wakes up, though!" I said.

"I can't justify having you in a hospital room - maybe we can look at later in the afternoon. I suspect that Philip will be coming around in the morning. I understand that his mother has had an objection to you being there?"

"Yes, but his father is OK with it," I responded.

"I understand, but we can't have things in turmoil when he wakes up - he'll need calm."

"Then you can keep that crazy bitch out of there!" I muttered.

"I did hear that, and I cannot officially endorse that," he said, emphasizing the word "officially".

I got some rest after that, and later a buzz from Dale.

I walked back down to Philip's room.

"You came alone?" Dale said as I entered.

"Yeah, the doctor gave me permission to walk on my own, and Mom went to get some supper and look in on Angie."

"Rory, again I want to apologize for my wife's behavior."

"No need!" I tried to interject, but he put up his hand.

"Please, I feel the need to. When Philip came out to us in high school it was really hard on her. She came from very conservative roots and she outright rejected the whole thing, but then she softened on the subject. When Philip headed to KSU it was simply not talked about and that was fine. Then he met you and he started talking about you and your relationship and she started to get more and more agitated. We fought over the topic until it finally got to the point where she told me that if I accepted 'his choice', as she put it, then she'd leave me. When I pressed her on this simply being who Philip is, and that we'd all be much better off if she'd just accept him as he is, and love him as he is she just couldn't deal with it - or me. She left about two weeks ago - I didn't have the heart to tell Philip until last week. Actually, he sent her a text, and she told him that she didn't care what I was up to anymore, and he immediately called me and I had to confess it all to him.

"Now, here we are. You are both lucky to be alive and she storms in here and starts yelling at you, and I need for you to know that I know that this is not your fault. Philip clearly thinks that you are something very special, and having met you, I agree, and I want you to be here for him as he wakes up, as he works this all through. Philip cares - a whole lot - about you, and so, therefore, do I. Please don't take offence at anything she said - or will likely say.

"I have his medical Power of Attorney and I have told the doctor's that you are allowed in any time, and that she needs to check in with me before coming in."

"Wow, I bet that was quite a revelation to her!" I interjected.

"I'm surprised you could not hear her shriek! I thought it could be heard all the way to Wichita!"

"I'm sorry that you're going through all that!" I said to him.

"Not too unlike what you are going through?" he half stated, half asked.

"I guess there are similarities. I have no idea what my dad would say to Philip. Likely nothing, as I don't think he'll be back."

"Well, your mother and I talked about things over some coffee - I bet we drank a pot each - so I know something of your situation, too."

"Can I have a little time with Philip - alone?" I asked. "You don't have to!"

"Of course, I'll step out. If you open the door when you're ready, I'll know that I can come back in, then."

"Thank you, Dale," I said.

He left, and closed the door behind him.

I walked to Philip and stroked his forehead, and then kissed his forehead, too.

"I know that it's foolish to let circumstances like these drive our emotions, and if you were awake right now, I don't know if I'd have the courage to say this, but I love you. I need for you to recover. We've both got so much going on and I think that we are one another's best allies to get through it all. Not just the assault, but your mom, my dad, and all that is trying to tear us down. But listen - Angie's here for both of us, so is Christina! Wow, you should have heard her - I think those dudes better never be near her if she has a rusty knife with her, she'll cut their balls off! My mom got quite an introduction to her! Now that part we will look back at and laugh!

"We've got lots of people pulling for us, Philip. Your dad is great about it, and now my mom knows, too, and she's pulling for us. And Jeanne and Mark, and half the campus is calling for those turds to be expelled from the University. We can make it, dude. I can't wait for you to wake up and start getting past this, too. Please wake up in the morning before they make me go home, OK?"

I heard some raised voices in the hall, and feared that Philip's mom was back, but then heard that mixture of Spanish and English and I knew that Christina was back. I could make out the words that Dale was trying to convince her to wait until I opened the door.

I did open the door and she quickly burst into the room.

"Buenas tardes mi linda pareja! Hey, Rory, you're starting to look better! Why is Philip still sleeping? What is the matter with those medico estupidos? Why did they not wake him up?"

Dale had followed her in.

"Please, Christina, they're weaning him from the meds and expect him to wake up tomorrow."

"The swelling has gone down," I said to her, "so they can let him wake up, but slowly, and they want it to be quiet when he does."

"I know, Senior Atkins, I can be un poco ruidoso!"

She walked over to me and hugged me.

"I'm so glad to see you up and getting around! Now, you will need to help cuida de nuestro Philip!"

About that time, a knock on the open door and in walked Angie.

"I guessed I'd find you here since you were not in your room!" she said to me. "Hi Dale, and, um, hi, I'm Angie!" she said to Christina.

"Hola, soy Christina! Philip and Rory are mi pareja favorita!"

"Si, hacen una linda pareja, no es asi!"

"Si, si!"

Suddenly Angie and Christina were hugging and talking like they were old friends. I knew that Angie had taken Spanish in high school, but I did not know that she could carry on like that until watching her with Christina. They stood there, arm in arm.

"We decided that we are going to watch over you two," Angie announced to me. "She's terrific!" she added, pointing to Christina.

"Es maravillosa!" Christina said, pointing back to Angie.

I was suddenly aware of how tired I was, and decided that I should head back to my room. Angie came with me.

"I like Christina," she said.

"In a way, she's Philip's Angie," I said to her.

"Yeah, but she and I are different," she replied.

"Yes, but you share the aspect of being fierce friends and advocates. She's a real firecat, though. I'm glad that she's on our side and not the other one!"

"Yeah, I would not want to cross her!"

"Hey, they are going to discharge me tomorrow - can you go to my room and bring me some clothes? The only things I have are what I wore that night. I need a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, some socks and a pair of boxers. I'll call Scott and tell him to let you in."

She made a show of rolling her eyes.

"Oh, sure, now I have to go through your underwear drawer!? Alright, anything for you, kiddo."

I got in bed and quickly fell asleep. When I awoke, she was gone again, but had left a note.

"Rory, I have to go back to Lawrence tomorrow as I have an exam on Friday. I'll bring your clothes and stop in to see you before I go. Love you! Angie."

It was still pretty early, and fairly quickly they brought my breakfast by. I ate and decided to walk down to Philip's room. I texted Dale to let him know.

When I arrived, Dale was holding Philip's hand and Philip was more animated than I'd seen him.

"Did he wake up?" I asked.

"Not yet, but he's been moving his head and his legs a bit. I've been so relieved even to see that!"

I walked to the other side of the bed and took his other hand in mine. Instinctively, I leaned down and kissed his forehead, then I looked at Dale with a worried look.

"It's fine, Rory. I know that you two were... affectionate... before."

I felt a little awkward, but then again, parents know that their kids are sexual beings. I took it as permission and I kissed him on the lips, too.

We sat there, holding on to Philip's hands and talking to him.

"Hey, Philip, you can wake up now!" I said.

"Philip - it's Dad. I love you - please wake up!" he said to him.

After almost an hour, he stirred even more, and we heard a groan, and his eyes fluttered open.

"Oh, man, Dad? Rory? What the hell happened? Damn, my mouth is dry? Can I have a drink?"

His voice was soft and rough - the tube down his throat did not help.

"Philip! You're awake!" Dale and I said almost simultaneously.

"What do you mean?" he said in a whispering, hoarse voice.

I stepped into the hallway. Joe was on as the nurse.

"Joe!" I hollered, "he's awake! Can we give him some water?"

Joe ran from the nurse's station.

"No, not yet! We don't want him aspirating it!"

"Philip!" Joe said as he came in the door, "We've been waiting for this!"

Philip gave us all a "what the hell are you talking about?" look, and Joe continued.

"Listen, Philip, you've been asleep - in a comatose state - for several days now. Do you remember what happened on Friday night?"

Philip looked a bit confused.

"It's OK - it will come back to you. You were assaulted - along with Rory, here, and got a pretty severe beating. All in all, you're in doing fairly well, but you have some recovery time ahead of you. We put a feeding tube in, so that's what you're feeling in your throat, and it's why your mouth is so dry and you probably have a rather sore throat right now."

He nodded an affirmative.

"We can put a little bit of water in your mouth, but I don't want to until you sit up. However, sitting up may be painful as you had quite a bit of bruising and a ruptured spleen, so you've suffered some trauma. Let me sit you up a bit with the bed, then we'll try you with a little water."

He did that and put about a half a straw's worth of water in his mouth and asked him to swish it around.

"Burns my throat!" he said.

"Yeah, it will, a little," Joe replied to him. "I will get that tube out - I doubt that you'll need it, and I want to give you some relief from it. Guys, can you give me some room?" he said to Dale and me.

Joe did his thing and removed the feeding tube and Philip did his best to adjust.

"You can take in no more than a half a straw's worth of water at a time until you can do that without choking."

And he did choke at first, but he kept trying, and eventually got a bit of water in his mouth and swallowed it without choking.

"There you go," Joe said, "you're adjusting well to it."

Philip looked at all of us in the room - his dad, Joe, me.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, looking first at me. "Dad, why are you here? What?... "

The light eventually went on in his head.

"We were at the party at Jeanne's house," he said looking at me. "I remember getting sick and we were walking home, and..., and..., and, I don't remember. Damn, Rory, you look terrible! What does everyone mean by 'we've been waiting for this'? What the hell?"

"Philip, we got jumped on the way back to your dorm. A bunch of guys jumped us and beat us up," I said to him.

"What? Why don't I remember it? Why am I so sore?"

"You got beaten pretty badly," Joe said, "and we have kept you in a medically induced coma to allow some swelling to ease, and to allow your body to heal a bit. Your mental fog comes from the trauma you experienced and the medicine, but some of that will ease as you are conscious now."

"The amount of booze I drank probably didn't help, either," he said.

"Well, that's true, too," Joe replied.

He looked at me.

"Why did they jump us - were they trying to rob us?"

"No," I replied, "they thought that we were gay."

He looked at his dad, and at Joe.

"It's OK," his dad said.

"Yeah, they were right about that, but it didn't give them the right to beat anybody up!" I said.

"No, it did not!" Joe added. "The police know who did it, they will want to hear from you, too, but we do not need to hurry that."

Philip looked at me, "What happened?" he asked.

"We were walking to your dorm, or more like, I was helping you to walk to your dorm, when they jumped us from the shadows. I saw the one guy hit you in the stomach - you threw up on him, by the way - and then three of them went at you while two of them went at me. One held me from behind while the other one hit me, too. I remember watching them jump on you before I passed out. They apparently got you pretty bad - worse than me."

"You look like hell - what must I look like? Can I see a mirror?"

Joe held a mirror. "You can, but don't get too shocked."

He looked at himself and winced when he saw himself.

"Really, you are looking better," I said, then immediately regretted it.

"I must have looked like shit!" he said, looking himself over.

"That's not wrong!" his dad added.

We all looked at Dale with a bit of shock.

"Well, I'm not wrong, am I?" he replied.

"You looked pretty bad, dude," I said to him.

"How bad?" he asked Joe.

"They ruptured your spleen," Joe told him, "cracked your skull, bruised ribs, and contusions on your face. You've had an operation to repair the spleen, and you need quite some rest for the skull to heal. The bruises will heal with some time, but the skull and operation are really the long poles in the tent."

"Damn, and how are you Rory?"

"I'll be OK," I replied, "a couple of cracked ribs and a cracked eye socket bone."

"And what happened to the shitheads who did this?" he asked, his anger now rising.

"Well, apparently there were some witnesses who held down the perpetrators until the police arrived. They are free, but charges are pending. There is a movement on campus to have them expelled from the university. Oh, and Jeanne and Mark have been here twice, and Christina has threatened to castrate those turds. And my Mom has been here, and Angie, too."

"Philip," his dad said, "and your mother has been here, too!"

Philip looked angry again.

"This has not been easy on her, please try to keep your anger in check!" Dale added.

"How can you be so forgiving of her?" Philip asked him.

"She's your mother, Philip, and my wife of almost 28 years - I am angry with her over her response to you - and to Rory - but I still think we need to give her some time!"

"Are you choosing her over me?" he asked, now angry at his father.

"No, Philip, no! I love you - no matter what! You always have my love and my support - just give her some time."

"I can't be as forgiving as you!" he said, "I love you, too, Dad. I'll try - for your sake, not my own."

"Philip," I said, "please don't be angry with your dad - I see him going through the same struggles as my mother. They didn't ask to be put in their positions - they just have to deal with it all the best way they can."

He looked at me.

"How can you be so young, and so wise?" he asked me.

I shook my head.

"Not wisdom, I don't think, just trying to make the best and do my best to understand. We didn't choose our family dynamics any more than we chose to be gay - it's just the hands we were dealt.

"Now, I think I need to let the two of you talk. I am SO HAPPY that you are awake again, and I want to spend every waking moment here with you, nursing you back to health, but I know better. They are releasing me today, so I will be back at the dorm, but I want to talk more, so I'll probably hang around for a bit - is that OK, Dale?"

"Sure, Rory, I think you two need some time to talk, too. Thank you for being so kind to me, and so understanding, and for loving Philip, too!"

He walked over to me and hugged me. I looked over at Philip and mouthed "WTF?" as he was smiling at us.

I walked to Philip's bed and caressed his cheek and leaned in and kissed his forehead. He grabbed my head and pulled me into a kiss. I looked sheepishly at Dale as I left.

"It'll take some getting used to, but it's fine!" he said to me.

"Bye, Philip, I'll be back!"

"Bye, Rory, you'd better!"

I went back to my room and the nurse had all the discharge things ready for me. I was reading the papers they gave me when Angie came in carrying a bag with my clothes.

"Hey, Rory!" she said.

I immediately hugged her.

"He's awake!" I said, "I talked to him!"

"That's great! How's he feeling?"

"Sore. Confused. Angry - especially at his mother and those thugs."

"Understandable. Have you seen his mother again?"

"No, thank God! She and my dad can form a gay-haters club together. She told me that this was all my fault!"

"Rory! Don't you let her take you there! You know better!" she started in on me.

"I know - it just pisses me off!"

"Yeah, I get it, but then you let her win - don't let her win!"

"Yes, you're right, I know you are. So, are you OK with your test tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I think so - I have a lecture podcast that I can listen to on the way back - that'll help me keep my mind on it. And here, I brought your clothes."

I looked in the bag - a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and socks and a pair of sheer, thong underwear that I'd worn for Philip once. She could see the look on my face when I saw the underwear and she burst into laughter.

"You really wore those?!" she said, "I couldn't believe it when I saw them, and I had to bring them! You know, you can learn a lot by looking through someone's underwear!"

My face had gone a deep, deep crimson, and she reached in her backpack and pulled out a pair of plaid boxers and handed them to me, still laughing. I went into the bathroom and got dressed in street clothes for the first time in days.

I walked out of the bathroom saying, "You know, I'm glad Mom wasn't here when you handed me that pair of underwear..."

I looked up to see Mom standing next to Angie.

"What pair of underwear?" Mom asked.

Angie burst into laughter again, and I went crimson again.

"Nothing!" I said, trying to think of anything to say, "it was, uh, an, uh, old, ratty pair that she found in the drawer."

Mom looked at me, "Oh, God, I don't even want to know - there are some things a mother should not be privy to!"

"Rory," Angie said, walking up and giving me a hug, "I really hate to go, but I must. I'm so glad to see you up and about and your face is looking better. You must let me know how things are going and keep me up to date on Philip's condition, too.

"Mama E., I'm glad we got to talk. I hope that Rory's dad comes around on this, and I'm glad that you will be here for Rory, too. He's got some good friends here, but this will not be over soon enough."

"Goodbye, Angie," Mom said, "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for Rory, and for all that you mean to him, and know that I love you and appreciate you - I'm sorry for my initial reaction."

"All is forgiven," Angie replied.

"Bye, sis," I said, kissing her on the cheek.

I told Mom that Philip was awake, and I wanted her to meet him. I called Dale and he approved of her coming in. We stopped by briefly and they met. Mom hugged him - gently - and kissed him on the cheek.

I asked if we could have a couple of minutes alone and Mom and Dale stepped out of the room.

"Philip," I started, "we can get through this together - we can hold each other up. Your Mom, my Dad - they'll both make it hard, but your Dad and my Mom can help. We've got a good group of support around us - Christina, Angie, Jeanne and Mark. There will be challenges - as much as we know about those thugs, they'll challenge us on everything - the drinking, saying that we jumped them - all of that. But I never want to lose sight of you and me - together. I love you - I know it now more than ever."

I, gently, held his face in my hands and I kissed him.

"You need a shave!" I said to him. He laughed.

"Ouch! It even hurts to laugh! Rory - I love you, too. I'm sorry I was so drunk - I'm sorry for the mess it caused us."

"Philip! That did not cause this! Those shitheads did!"

"I know, but I should have talked to you about Mom as soon as I learned about it - you are my confidant, and I blew it by not working through some of it with a guy who could understand. If I had, we might not have been jumped by them."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up on what might have happened - the way they talked, they'd been watching you and me for a while. They were just waiting for an opportunity - it would have come even if we were both sober, and they outnumbered us - there were at least five of them."

I kissed him again and he returned the kiss with passion.

"You heal and get better, OK? I'll find out more about what's going on with the police part of this, too."

I left and found Mom and Dale talking in the hallway. Mom and I said our goodbyes and we headed to the dorm. I needed to go see my professors about the classes I'd missed and to prep for my exams. She went back to her hotel and I told her I'd meet her there later.

I only had one term paper that was now late, and I managed to get an excuse to turn it in anyway - the other classes were just reviewing for exams.

I got a call from the police officer that I'd spoken to at the hospital and she wanted me to come to the station. Something in her voice had me suspicious and I called my mother and told her of my suspicions and told her that I thought I ought to speak to a lawyer. I also called Angie and told her the same thing. Her father knew a good lawyer in Manhattan and I arranged to talk to her.

I called the officer back and told her that I'd spoken to an attorney and I would only talk to the police if she was present.

They wanted to charge me with underage drinking and there was no mention of prosecuting the thugs for what they'd done. My lawyer was quick and thorough, though, and put the police on their heels. She'd already spoken to the D. A. and threatened a lawsuit against the University and the city if charges were not brought. She'd seen the security tapes that clearly showed them jumping us, not the other way around, and she found that one of the other students had been videoing the whole thing, including sound, where they were calling us faggots and gay boys.

"This is clearly not only assault and battery, but the slurs push it to hate crime, and there is more than sufficient evidence that not only should this be brought to trial, but the perpetrators, and we know who they are, should be behind bars even now while awaiting trial!" she said to the D. A.

She agreed to be Philip's attorney, too. Dale and Angie's dad agreed to split the cost between them, over my mother's objections.

Over the next several days, Philip was getting better and was finally discharged from the hospital, too. He was able to postpone his finals, with one exception, and he hobbled into that exam where his classmates did their best to shame the prof for not letting him postpone. We both managed to keep ourselves on the Dean's List for the semester.

The gay Alliance on campus pressured the University to expel the perpetrators, though they said that they deserved a trial for their actions. Then they told Philip and I that we could be expelled for underage drinking, but our lawyer quickly shut that down.

The actual court trial was moving very slowly for my own tastes. School had ended and we needed to vacate the dorms, so we made a hasty decision to find an apartment near campus where we could live. Mom objected to us living together, but eventually agreed that it was best in the circumstances. We found a two bedroom place and started to scour Craig's list and FB marketplace for cheap, or free, furniture. We found a futon and a couple of small desks that we put in one room, and got a king bed to put in the other.

I got a job at a clothing store nearby where I could work full-time for the summer and go to weekend work when school started again. Dale also helped us with the rent as Philip continued to heal.

As the summer wore on, a trial date was set. The lawyer for the thugs wanted it to happen before school started to make it hard on the other witnesses who were home for the summer. Our lawyer did some filings that effectively postponed it until a time when school was in session again. I was frustrated that it was delayed, but happy that we'd be able to get witnesses there.

Philip and I healed over time. It took several weeks for our ribs to stop hurting, and he was still experiencing headaches. He found a part-time job at a radio station where he worked about half time doing office work that did not require a specific start or stop time, so it worked well with the irregularity of the headaches.

Bruises, ribs and cracked bones take a while to heal. One night I was in bed when Philip came in from the bathroom, totally naked. I loved looking at his sexy body! He crawled up next to me and I kissed him and he lay down on the pillow next to me. My hand instinctively caressed his body.

"Rory, I'm not sure I'm ready for anything," he said to me.

"That's OK, I just like stroking your body!" I said.

I quickly sat up and pulled my boxers off, too. His hands went to my body, too. We kissed and snuggled and fell asleep holding hands.

I woke up the next morning and he was gone, but soon returned from the bathroom, still naked. He looked at me lying there.

"You look so good, I could eat you up!" he said.

"I was thinking exactly that, too, watching you walk in," I said to him. "I'm anxious to get physical with you again, but I've been unsure how far to go."

He crawled onto the bed and started to stroke my cock, and kissed my neck.

"We can go slow," he said to me. "I want to thank you for all the looking after me that you've been doing."

He moved down my chest and belly and kissed and licked my stiffening dick.

"Besides," he said, kissing the head, "I get a reward, too, at the end, and all you need to do is be still!"

"I'll do my best to keep still," I replied, "but you know damn well that is a tall order!"

"Not as tall is it can get!" he said grinning at me and then licking my balls and my cock from the base up to the tip. He smiled as I groaned and pushed my hips his way. He took me in his mouth and began to suck me and stroke me. It was, indeed, hard to keep still as he worked my cock in his mouth, in his hands, with his tongue. It had been so long! I knew that I needed to be patient, and I knew that the day would come when we could resume - however gently - our physical loving, and that it would feel so delightful when it did.

Soon I was moaning uncontrollably.

"Oh fuck, Philip! I'm gonna cum my love! Oh fuck! Fuck! FUUUCCCKKK!"

I pushed my hips in the air and my orgasm ran over me, and my cock spewed its load of semen into his mouth. He knew just how to stroke and squeeze me as I pumped out spurt after spurt until it finally settled again and my hips finally settled again on the mattress.

He slid my softening cock from his mouth and grinned at me as he moved up and kissed me, letting copious amounts of my fluid to run into my mouth, too. We sloppily kissed as my heart rate slowly returned to normal.

"That was the best cum ever!" he said grinning at me.

"Oh, yeah, I'll say!" was my response.

I wanted to immediately return the favor, but he smiled.

"I have to shower and get to work," he said, "and this way, I get to anticipate the payback all day long - it'll be sweet!"

I watched his naked butt walk toward the shower and thought how lucky I was.

When the trial finally happened, four of the five were convicted of aggravated assault and hate crimes. The fifth was convicted of aggravated assault, but not hate crimes. They were all expelled from campus. We felt somewhat vindicated.

The school wanted to push underage drinking on us, but our lawyer negotiated with them telling them that if they pursued it she would file a suit against the University for not protecting us adequately from the thugs. She told us that even if we did not win, the school wouldn't want the bad publicity and would probably back down. They did.

Through the entire summer and into the fall, I did not talk with my father. My mother told me that he wanted to disown me, but she told him that if he did she would divorce him - and that was also a sin in his eyes, and the eyes of his church. He also backed down, but he refused to talk to me. I still hoped that time would soften his view.

Philip's mom was similar. She'd already left his dad, and was not accepting of Philip's being gay, and openly stated that she hated me. Dale was good with shielding both Philip and me from most of that, however, and he showed up often in Manhattan to take us out to dinner. I would often offer to disappear and let the two of then talk, but Dale always insisted that he wanted me to be there.

It was not easy for us, but having the supporting cast around us made it easier for us. Philip and I both got involved in the LGBTQ alliance on campus. Our story, of course, was well known, both within the alliance and on campus in general, and Philip became one of the group's spokespersons - he was the much better public speaker than I.

Philip sat out the fall volleyball team so Jack, one of the other guys, invited a friend to play - with the understanding that it was only for the fall. When spring arrived and Philip was ready to play again, there was some tension - and eventually Jack and his friend left, so we recruited a new freshman to join us. Again, we did well, and we finished the year with a party at Jeanne and Mark's place.

We had a great time with much less alcohol involved this time, and looked forward to another summer, and the approach of Philip's senior year