Adam, Beloved Mentor 9 End

by Tim Anders <Timlovesjase@yahoo.com.au>

Adam, Beloved Mentor (9 End) by Tim Anders

Revised version of 'Back in the Big Smoke' (Sequel to 'Country Life').

Roger rang back as soon as I put the phone down. He said he'd run away on New Year's Eve because Brian got drunk and very violent, then attacked him again two days later at a friend's place when Roger refused to go back and warned him he'd call the police. Brian left with wild threats, so Roger found yet another place to stay, but all his belongings were still at Brian's and he was too scared to collect them.

That was the red rag for Adam! He picked up Roger, and together they went to get his stuff. Brian was no match for Adam who said later he'd restrained himself because he didn't want to be up for manslaughter. I knew my gentle Adam could lose his cool if sufficiently irritated, but I'd never seen him as ferocious as that.

Roger moved into the study. He was at first embarrassed, as I was before him, that Adam wouldn't accept any rent or board from him. Adam insisted he had enough money and didn't need any more, "certainly not from guys who had only small scholarships to live on." Roger felt that my case was different, as I was Adam's partner, but that didn't wash with Adam.

"Forget it, mate! You're family, and we both love you! We all share the household chores and apart from that all I want from you is concentrate on your studies like he - um," he gave me a sharp slap on the seat of my shorts, "- is supposed to."

I pouted, not for the smack on my bum, but the innuendo. "I do work hard!" I protested

"Yeah, mate, we know, except when you _f_u_c_k_ up and I have to tan your hide."

I couldn't argue with the facts, so I just returned his grin, stuck my tongue out and ran.

Adam and I were soon back at work, so Roger took charge of the household by default and it showed! Where Adam and I used to manage weekly clean-ups, Roger made it look like that every day. He was happy and didn't seem to mind his lonely bed or being stuck at home while we were out working. He was such a lovable guy, you simply had to put your arms around him. We often did, but our kisses were quite chaste, even if our little mates got excited about it.

Adam had been quite lenient in the discipline department since I got that caning at Brian and Roger's before our trip, but eventually rules had to be reinforced. One of them was to ring home if either of us was going to be late. We had an answering machine to take the message, and it was always comforting to see its light flashing if one came home and the other one wasn't in yet. When I arrived two hours late from a shoot one day, without having rung, my cup was full. It overflowed when I sounded off what all the 'bloody fuss' was about.

Adam gave me his thunderous look, "it's time you and I had a little chat, mate."

"Wh-what for?"

"You know what for," he sounded quite calm, "don't spin it out, mate, you'll only make it worse. Go and get ready, I want you back here in two minutes." Roger was reading at the table, apparently not hearing - but I knew we were back to normal. My little mate started stirring as I went to the bedroom to undress. When I returned naked to the sitting room, Adam just emerged with the cane from the kitchen.

Roger closed his book and quietly walked in the opposite direction. Adam stopped him, "no need for you to go, you may as well get used to it."

"But - - " Roger looked at me and back at Adam.

"Listen, mate, we all agreed when you came to live here, life goes on as usual and you are part of it, you're family, ok?"

I nodded with butterflies in my stomach and confirmed, "it's true, mate."

Roger looked bewildered, "ok, thanks, I - I just need some time - - please" and disappeared.

"He'll have to learn," growled Adam, "it's not as if he doesn't know."

"He's still a bit shaky," I volunteered, "he'll settle in."

"Hm, - as for you, mate, you need a reminder what happens if we don't stick to the rules," he swished the cane, "you agree it's high time?"

"I'm sorry, Adam, I know I should have rung. I just plain forgot."

"How can you forget, mate! You bloody well know I worry if I don't know where you are! You think I'm making this up? It's a bloody jungle out there, specially in our line of work. I ring you even if I'm only half an hour late. Is it too much to ask the same of you?"

He certainly could make me feel very small. I felt the 'jungle' was a bit over the top, but his caring and concern touched me deeply, and when I said "I'm very sorry," I truly meant it.

"So, why am I doing this?" The cane swished again.

"Because I didn't ring to let you know about being late, and I was rude when I should have apologised."

"That's right. Good start, mate. A bit more thoughtfulness wouldn't hurt nearly as much as this will. Now, bend over."

I got into position and the cane connected with my bum almost immediately. I yelped loud. It was a real shock. It had been a while since I'd felt its sting, but he really laid it on this time. I got four more of the same quality and was in tears, but I didn't move.

"That's it for now, come here." I straightened up and rubbed my bottom furiously. I could tell these stripes were going to stay longer than usual. Adam took me in his arms, "I had to be hard on you today, mate, but you've had this one coming to you for a while."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll be more careful, promise."

"Good," he said. "Just make sure you remember. We're going back to our old routine. You _f_u_c_k_ up, you get the stick straight away. No more saving it up."

"If you say so - " I whispered, taking his hand down to my nearly rigid little mate.

He lingered for a moment, grinned, but we never mixed discipline with pleasure. "I want your buns nice and pink, mate, not black and blue." He handed me the cane, "take it back where it belongs." I always stayed naked after discipline because Adam said he enjoyed the view, but if we had visitors I was allowed to wear just footy shorts. Rodge was family. So, no shorts.

I deposited the cane back on the window sill in the kitchen where Roger was fumbling with the dishes. He looked at me with his big blue eyes, "how bad was it?"

"Have a look," I turned around.

"_s_h_i_t_! That must have hurt, mate!" He gently touched the welts on my buns.

"Yeah, still does. I guess I asked for it."

"You sure did!! I couldn't believe you carrying on as if Adam was being unreasonable. You should have seen him before you got home! He was fretting, mate, honest! - I was worried too," he added with a self-conscious grin.

I gave him a hug and kissed his cheek, "I'm really sorry mate. So, I got what I deserved, eh? It'll be gone in a few days."

Adam joined us, "don't know about you guys, but I could do with a drink."

"Great idea," Rodge and I said almost in unison.

"I'll have a whisky on the rocks," I said.

"Don't know if I can allow that. Might diminish the effect."

Roger protested, "aww, come on, man, he's taken his medicine," not realising Adam was joking. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and put some anti-bruising cream on my war wounds. When I returned, the drinks were poured.

Later in bed, Adam lovingly tended my buns with plenty of ointment. I wanted to feel his love pole inside, it made me feel loved and protected and completely his own. But he said I'd be too sore and should make love to him instead. The less frequent thrill of entering him, feeling 'he's all mine', always gave me a feeling of great power. I was so excited, I completely forgot my striped bottom, and that was probably what he had intended. He was a real softie behind that strict exterior. It turned into one of those many occasions where I could have died with complete happiness and fulfilment in my heart.

Roger no longer left the room when the cane went into action, but he often tried to save me from just retribution by alerting me to things I'd forgotten or overlooked, even fixing them or cleaning up messes I'd made. I kept telling him we'd both be in trouble if Adam found out, but Roger had a mind of his own when he wanted.

One day I was supposed to pay the phone bill, which was due on that day. I forgot, and by the time I remembered, the Post Office was closed. Adam was very particular about keeping the books for tax reasons. So, when he asked for the receipt, I hummed and haahed, trying to think of an excuse and Roger butted in, "umm - I was ging to pay it, but I forgot." That was stupid because I still had the bill and Adam knew it.

He took Roger by the shoulder, "listen, mate, I don't know why you're trying to cover up for his nibs here. We all know he's _f_u_c_k_ed up and what happens next, right? Now go and get the cane." Roger looked stunned for a moment, then went to the kitchen. Adam looked at me, he didn't have to say anything. I was already in 'home dress', just shorts, so I dropped them.

Roger returned and handed Adam the cane, "I - I just don't like people getting hurt."

"I don't either, mate," said Adam, "but you, of all people, ought to know the difference between deserved discipline and hurting someone for the heck of it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interfere. It just sort of happened."

"Well, don't let it happen again, ok? You're a real good mate trying to help Timmie stay out of trouble." Roger looked surprised. "Oh yeah, d'you think I haven't noticed you giving him hints and reminders? That's fine, mate, as long as he does what he's supposed to do and you don't do it for him, or take the blame if he doesn't. All clear now?"

Roger nodded, sniffling.

"Otherwise your bum's in the firing line as well," he put on a broad grin, "for interfering with the course of justice and falsifying evidence."

Roger smiled with moist eyes, "I'd take it from you any time, mate. You're not like Brian."

"I hope not," Adam said. He then looked at me, "come on mate, let's get it over with." I bent over and got five stinging whacks, not designed to leave long lasting bruises but making me yelp and wish I'd remembered that bloody phone bill.

Uni started again in March. Roger did a different course from mine but most of the time we managed to travel together on the bus and train. We were best mates and I often had pangs of conscience because deep down I had 'the hots' for him, as Adam once so delicately put it.

Adam must have had similar stirrings because one evening in April, after some passionate love making, he asked how I'd feel about a ménage à trois with Roger. We had teased each other before about lusting after him, but I wasn't ready to take that kind of risk and I said so. "Don't worry, little man, you'll always be my top guy," Adam reassured me, and I happily went to sleep in his arms.

The next morning was my birthday. I woke up and could hear Adam singing in the shower, I got up in a flash and joined him. "Happy Birthday, little man!"

We kissed as I wrapped myself around him, "thank you, my gorgeous hunk." I soaked up his wicked good looks and tried to make our bodies touch along their full length. Wet or dry, the feeling of my skin against his fuzzy fur from head to toe was incredibly _s_e_x_y. We had a lot of fun 'cleaning' each other, which always was a big turn-on for us both.

"I've got a present for you," he grinned.

I grabbed his fast growing rod, "I know! You gonna give it to me now?"

"Mmhm, I like you all wet and slippery!"

We turned off the taps and got out of the shower where he performed an athletic, near acrobatic feat lifting me up and impaling me as I was clinging to his neck. I could feel every step as he slowly moved towards the bed . . . WOW!

As we lay spent, kissing, caressing and blissfully oblivious to time marching on, Adam said, "you'll have to wait for your present, little man, I'm picking it up today."

"I hope it's not too extravagant, mate," I climbed on top of him, again stretching for optimal skin contact.

"Roger is rattling the dishes out there," he changed the subject. Indeed, it was the middle of the week and we couldn't just linger in bed forever. So, we got up and joined Rodge who had already set the breakfast table. The cake was to come later but we had chocolate biscuits, Adam lit a candle inscribed "love you forever", and they sang "Happy Birthday". I was the happiest guy alive. I loved my Adam like I'd never loved anyone before, and I knew he loved me just as passionately. My studies were going well, and the future looked bright and promising on this 19th birthday of mine.

When Roger and I arrived home from Uni, Adam's car wasn't there yet, but two police were getting out of another car parked across the road and followed us to our front door. One of them was a woman. She asked if this was Adam K.'s unit and when I said "yes," she asked could they come in. I was getting a bit worried Adam might have got himself into trouble. He never did drugs, but I'm ashamed to say the thought did flash through my mind.

She wanted to know if one of us was Tim. I said "I am. Why?" getting very anxious.

She looked at the other policeman and made me sit down on the sofa, "I'm afraid there's been an accident. Your name was given as the person to be notified. Are you related to Adam K.?"

"I'm his partner." I jumped up suddenly shaking and shouting "what's happened? Where is he, is he hurt?" Somehow, deep down, I must have sensed the awful truth. I remember Roger's arm around me as he took over. Everything became a blur but I remember the words "died instantly." According to Roger I became hysterical and passed out.

Maybe there is such a thing as Providence, because Roger's presence literally saved my life that day and the months thereafter when I didn't want to live. I'll always thank him for that.

NOTE: What follows from here took a long time to write down but it helped me a great deal. Maybe readers who want to know what happened next, as we often do, will find it interesting . . .

I woke up in bed. Everything was blurry and unreal. Someone was holding my hand, stroking my hair. "Adam!" I shouted, but there was no response.

I turned to the side and saw Roger sitting beside the bed, smiling at me through tears. He stroked my face and said "Shsh, mate. It's only me, Roger. The doctor says I can let you get up when you're ready."

I sat up and slowly the horror came back but, due to some medication, in a thick fog. "Roger, what am I going to do? I don't want to live." I looked at him, and he was crying, which made me cry even more. I felt so utterly lost and desolate.

"I've rung your dad and your mum," he said, "I hope that's allright." I nodded. "Your dad says he'll be here tonight. Your mum's been and gone. You were still asleep. She said she'll be back later. You want to ring her?"

"No, not now." I was sitting on the edge of the bed, bracing myself to get up. I didn't want to see anybody. "What's the time, how long was I asleep?"

Roger stroked my face, "nearly 20 hours, mate. You woke up a few times, but - "

"I don't remember - "

"The doctor left some medication, I gave it to you."

"Thanks, mate. Did you get any sleep?"

Roger forced a smile, "yeah, don't worry about that, mate. We'll get you going first, then we can all have a good sleep."

My tears were welling up again, "how can I sleep, Roger, without Ad-?" I choked on the name.

He gave me a hug, "Timmie, mate, I can only guess what you're feeling, but I love him too. He's been like a brother to me. I'll be here for you for as long as you want. Maybe we can get through this together." We were both howling freely, lying in each other's arms on the bed. It was such a relief to be able to let it all out with Roger sharing my grief. His gentle voice, never pushy, just probing how much I could take, helped me to make some decisions, but I was in a daze, and he did all the work, phone calls, doctor visits, dispensing my medication, which was locked away to save me from myself.

Adam's solicitor, Mr. J., wanted me to come to his office but Roger explained I couldn't, so he came to us. He said Adam's Mum was showing remarkable courage and urgently wanted to see me. I knew she'd always stuck by Adam and was the only family member he saw after his father disinherited him when he outed himself at 16. Adam had talked about taking me along to meet her but was overtaken by events.

"Do you know Mrs. K.?" the solicitor asked.

"I never met her, and I don't think I could face her right now.

"It's important that you do," he said, "for her sake and yours, because of Adam's will."

"I didn't know he had a will. When did he do that?"

"Six months ago. I could read it now, but Mrs. K. should be present as well. She has agreed to come here."

"What!! Now?" I panicked. "I've never met this lady! I'm a mess! I can't help her in her grief!!"

"Please don't be upset, you'll probably find SHE can help YOU. I've been the family solicitor for a very long time, and I know her well. She is an extraordinary lady."

A beautiful lady entered the room, about 60, with steel grey hair, which once must have been pitch black like Adam's. She was one of those tall Mediterraneans, like him, but her dark brown eyes were her most striking feature. I stood up, somewhat shakily, staring at her, I was looking into Adam's eyes. She rushed to me and held me close, "my boy, my poor, poor boy!" She stroked my hair like Adam used to, and I fell apart, calling his name. I found myself sitting on the couch, Mrs. K. next to me, her hand holding mine, talking to me very softly in her low pitched voice and strange foreign accent, tears running down her face.

"He was such a wild boy, you know. Uh, always in trouble, I was so worried about him, always on that noisy motor bike, fighting, drinking. Only good thing he never in trouble with the girls. And then he find you and he say to me 'Mama I have found love of my life'. I should know, but I say 'what's her name,' and he say 'not her, Mama, it's a him and his name is Tim.' I cried, I tell you I cried like I cry now, but I was happy, because he happy. First time I see my Adam so happy in uh, so many years. And he always happy when we meet, once every week we meet, you know, and always he much happier every time. He say he bring you along next time, and now we meet here ...." and she just sobbed. Although I was very fragile myself, I managed to put my arm around her, and we cried on each other's shoulder. I didn't know it then, but that was he most amazing moment of my 19 year old life.

Adam had made his will, witnessed by his mother, after a narrow escape from a runaway car six months earlier. He never told me, but he did it to ensure I was properly looked after if anything happened to him. It said he felt no obligation towards his family except his Mum and he trusted me to give her anything she wants from the estate, should he die before her. My instant reaction was, "I don't want this!! I want Adam back!"

Mrs. K. was aghast. "But Adam wants it so. You must! Promise me, promise Adam." She hugged me once more and stroked my hair. "You love my Adam, he love you so much, I love you both."

Funerals are a nightmare. Even more when the deceased is a young person. Adam wanted to be cremated, but I couldn't handle the thought at all. I begged, they said it was up to me, but Roger persuaded me not to go against Adam's wish. So I gave in but I was inconsolable. The chapel was full and the coffin was already there when Roger and I walked in. It suddenly hit me, my Adam was in that box. They'd refused to let me see him - 'not advisable' - and this was the first time I was close to him since we kissed good bye on that fateful morning. I swear I could see Adam's beautiful face through that box. I walked up to it and hugged it and put my face on it, and the wood felt cool, and my heart burst and I howled.

I made a shocking spectacle of myself. Roger kept trying to get me to come and sit down but I took no notice. I clung to that box. Adam's Mum stroked my hair, and her soft voice tried to achieve what Roger couldn't, but nobody was going to drag me away from Adam. So they left me there, holding him in my arms, my face against his coffin, oblivious to the goings on. Suddenly it started to move and I realised what was happening, I'm told I screamed "NO!!" and tried to stop it from moving. I passed out the moment my Dad took hold and forced me to let go. I didn't even know he was there. I woke up in some office, Roger was with me. A doctor or ambulance man was checking my pulse, asked my name and age, and where did I live. They thought I'd gone insane.

Eventually we were driven home. There was a wake in a nearby pub, but I didn't know about it. I've wondered sometimes if the following months would have been easier if I'd joined in and managed to let go and accept that Adam wouldn't come back. But I somehow doubt it. I'm still ashamed of my behaviour during the ceremony, but when I apologised to Adam's Mum a few days later, she said "it take a lot of courage to do that - Adam will be proud of you." I hope he is, but he'll also know it was not courage but pure despair.

Mr. K. visited once a week for months. I thought she wanted to keep in touch with Adam's world, but it was more to help me let go and pick up the pieces. One day she asked if she could have his clothes, which were still where he'd left them. I panicked, but she was his Mum, and I said "yes, of course". But I kept a few favourite things. Soon thereafter she rang to say she couldn't make it this week. Then a letter came, saying it was time for me to move on and start a new life after Adam. She wished me well and promised to be in touch when she returned from Europe but I never heard from her again. Maybe she never returned or maybe she also needed to close that chapter in her life.

Our home was a constant reminder of things that couldn't be revived and eventually, with Roger's help, I faced up to the fact that I didn't want to live there any more. I sold it and leased a 3-bedroom flat, not too far from Uni, for Roger and I to live in together. He had been my guardian angel throughout that year, watching over me, saving my life several times, making sure I slowly moved back into Uni life, taking me swimming, alerting friends to keep an eye on me. I was so dazed, I read and hardly knew what I was reading. I talked to people but didn't register or remember what was said.

I'd been granted deferment of my course for the first semester. I flunked all subjects but one in the next. This led to an interview where I was told that there were plenty of deserving students missing out on places, while failures like me were hogging them only because they'd come in with reasonably good marks. Fortunately, my first year results had been well above average, except for the one subject I messed up, which had made Adam so angry. So, they gave me a last chance for the following year.

How Roger managed to stay sane coping with me AND pass all his subjects at the end of the year, I have no idea. He was rightfully jubilant when he got his results and, for the first time since Adam died, I felt truly joyful and happy. I insisted I'd shout a dinner in style to celebrate. We went to a posh restaurant for a candle light dinner, sitting opposite each other at a "table for two". Adam had taken me there a few times, and maybe I was trying to tempt fate or exorcise the memory, but I nearly turned around as we entered. I gritted my teeth and once we were seated I looked at Roger and all the memories fell away. He was a lovely guy by nature and in looks, three months older than I, about 5 cm taller, his dark blue eyes were unusually large and quite far apart, and his very blond hair had grown longer and become a little wavy, which made him look even cuter. When we first met, I wondered if that blondness came from a bottle. It didn't. Not that it would have mattered, it suited him.

There were several moments during the evening when our hands touched across the table, first accidentally, then more deliberately to make a point or get the other's attention, and I noticed that every time our hands touched, something stirred below. Roger had slept on the bed with me for weeks after the tragedy and we'd been hugging and comforting each other hundreds of times, but my little mate had been virtually dormant ever since that awful day. If there was any stirring, it went unnoticed or I must have ignored it. We had been attracted to each other ever since that kiss behind the study door so many months ago. The only reason it hadn't gone further was my unshakeable love for Adam.

It all seemed light years away. Having had so much proof of Roger's incredible devotion, and looking at that angelic face across the table, assisted by a bottle of exquisite red wine, I was beginning to feel decidedly romantic about him, a fact that did not escape him either, as our hands were touching with growing frequency and intensity. I suddenly had this urge to kiss him there and then, and I said, "Roger, I love you and I want to kiss you. Let's go home."

His reaction was disbelief at first, then delight, and he took my hand which was half way across the table, and squeezed it very hard. "I've been hoping you'd say that one day, mate," he said, "I've been in love with you ever since we first met."

On the way home, in the back seat of the taxi, we held hands and ventured a little further to discover that our little mates were absolutely rigid. Mine had been, from the moment I said I wanted to kiss him. We shared the bed that night, not for a raucous affair, just gentle caressing, exploring, and loving till the clouds burst, and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

There followed a wonderful period of harmony and gentle affection between us and Roger's separate bedroom was no longer used, at least not to sleep in. We enjoyed the summer holidays together swimming, walking, running, and - - talking. There seemed to be such a lot to talk about, to find out about each other. Slowly, my life was coming together again. I remember a very happy and contented feeling much of the time, interrupted every now and then by desperate longing for Adam and guilt feelings for being unfaithful to him. After all, it was not even a year since he died.

As the academic year began, I made a giant effort to catch up and finish what I had started. Whenever I felt downhearted, wanting to give it all away, Roger reminded me that I owed it to Adam, if not myself, and that opting out was not an option. For an unassuming man, Roger was surprisingly persuasive, and I am still puzzled how he managed to steer me in almost any direction, by just using his gentle voice, a kiss, a hug, a touch of the hand.

The worst day that year was my 20th birthday. I'd been dreading it for weeks and wanted to ignore it. As it happened, it fell on a Friday and Roger organised a weekend away with some friends, which helped me through it.

The year was very tranquil on the emotional level, which made studying easier, and we both passed our end-of-year exams with excellent results. The only regret was that I couldn't tell Adam about it. He would have been so proud and happy.

At the same time, I would not have achieved those results without Roger who never got angry or even impatient, he was just there, ready to take over and rearrange things before they got out of hand. What a mate! We were very alike in many ways and that was probably why we didn't stay together in the end, in spite of our mutual affection and attraction.

I've come to the end of the story of Adam and our brief time together, and a grateful salute is also due to Adam's Mum, and to dear Roger, wherever they are. Without them I would not be here and would never have known the happiness of loving my darling Jason who came into my life like a bloody miracle. And that is the title of our story, which can be found at: http: www. vision-of-love. com stories jase_tim. html -- if you'd like to read it.

Jase has become the anchor of my life and healer of my soul. Although he never knew Adam, he loves him for what he meant to me and understands that this can never diminish our love for each other. I often wish they could have met, they would have got on like a house on fire! Thanks, mate, for your loving support and your constant encouragement to write this down. I love you!