Part 1
PART 1
GEROME
Gerome: Hi, Scott. This is Gerome. Do you remember me? I was your server, but you decided you wanted dessert back at your place? And I was dessert?
I stared at the text on my phone as memories assaulted me. Memories of a beautiful and sweet young man who’d been our server at a cute little restaurant when we’d been on holiday in Wakefield, Ontario, and had accompanied us back to the cottage we were borrowing from friends. But that had been a long time ago. We’d said we’d keep in touch, but we hadn’t.
Me: Good, good. How are you?
Gerome: I’ve been better. Would love to meet up to talk to someone.
I smiled at my phone, glad to have heard from the young man of whom we had such fond memories from our stay at Duke’s cottage two summers ago.
I texted back right away.
Me: Of course! I’m free right now.
Gerome: Can we…meet somewhere in person? Is that possible?
Me: Are you still in Wakefield?
Gerome: Living in Ottawa now.
Me: Oh! Where would you like to meet? It’s a nice day. In the mood for a walk?
Gerome: Yeah, that would be great. How about Hog’s Back Park? I’m living in an apartment near there and I don’t have a car.
Me: See you at two?
It was one o’clock right now, and that would give me time to change into better clothes and get there.
Gerome: Great! I’ll be near the concession stand.
I knew where that was. I doubted it would be open. Actually, I had no idea if the city still stocked and ran it. They had when I was a kid. We used to bike there and stop for a snack.
In Ottawa, you could live close to downtown but still be in a wide-open green space in about ten minutes. I’d briefly tried to live in downtown Toronto, and while the vibe and hustle-bustle had been cool and invigorating for about three months, I’d soon tired of the high rises and concrete. People called a block of grass between two streets in Toronto a ‘park’, but it didn’t feel like one. When I got back to Ottawa, it seemed even more beautiful than I’d remembered.
Hog’s Back Park—not the most auspicious name for such a pretty spot—was between Prince of Wales and Riverside Drive, near Mooney’s Bay Beach and across the Rideau River from Carleton University. The entire area along the canal and through the university campus was a naturalist’s dream.
There was lots of parking in the dedicated lot. It was a weekday afternoon in the middle of the summer. A yellow school bus sat by the curb, and a group of kids played some game in the field near what became ideal toboggan hills in the winter. But the concession stand was in the other direction, right beside the viewing area. The sound of rushing water filled my ears as I noticed a young man in grey bermuda shorts, flip-flops, and a wine-coloured t-shirt. It had been a while since I’d seen Gerome, so I approached slowly, hoping the person would turn around.
I realized it was him as he turned and lifted a hand to wave.
“Scott!”
“Hey! So nice to see you!” I said.
We greeted each other with a quick but affectionate hug, and then Gerome looked me over.
“Still sexy. Goddamn.”
I blushed. “Well, you too.”
He nodded and looked away, as if unsure of what to say next.
“Let’s go look at the falls,” I suggested.
“Okay.”
We walked along the path and down some steps to a paved look-out area with a black metal fence to keep people off the rocks.
“I’m always impressed with the beauty of this place,” I said, leaning on the fence and watching the whitewater fall to the left of us and cascade over the rapids below.
“Yeah. It’s something special,” Gerome said.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
Gerome gripped the metal rail and looked down at the rocks. He took a shaky breath and started talking. “So…I got a call yesterday from this guy that I hooked up with a few weeks ago. And he told me he just…” Gerome struggled to speak. “Oh God, I can’t even believe I’m saying this. It’s making it even more real and terrifying.”
“It’s okay. Tell me.”
“He said he tested positive.”
My blood went cold.
“For HIV?” I said, my voice hushed like it was the horrible, unspeakable thing it used to be in the eighties and early nineties.
“Yeah.” He took a steadying breath. “Scott, I’m so fucking scared right now.”
He stared at the roaring water that coursed over the rocks below, as if it reflected the turbulence of his mind.
I was from a generation that had barely missed the whole AIDS epidemic and the echoes of that era still hit hard. I moved closer.
“Can I put my arm around you?”
The gratitude in his eyes and the look he gave me as he nodded reassured me. I embraced him and squeezed his shoulder.
“I’m glad you called me.”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know what to do…”
“I hate to be so practical, but you need to get tested.”
“Yeah, I did. I went this morning. But now I have to wait and I don’t know how to manage between now and then. It’s literally all I can think about.”
I sighed. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”
“I feel so bad for him, too. He sounded so sad and scared on the phone.”
“Is he a friend? Or just a casual fling?”
“Not even a fling. We met at a club and went back to his place. I wasn’t planning to see him again.” He shrugged.
I took my arm away but stayed close, leaning on the rail beside him. The spray from the falls made a cooling mist around us.
“Can I ask you?—”
“We fucked. He used a condom for that.”
“Oh, thank God. I mean, I don’t really believe in God, but…yeah.”
“I never let anyone top me without a condom.”
“Good,” I said with a nod.
“But Scott. I sucked and swallowed.”
Ah. That’s where the fear came from.
Gerome continued. “I knew it was a risk but, for some reason, it didn’t register. I can’t even remember if I did that with you guys.”
“I don’t think so. We were conscious of your safety and ours, at the time.”
“I feel like an idiot. But I mean…blowies are low risk, right?”
“Sweetheart, they’re lower risk. But there’s still some risk.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was hoping to get on PrEP. I’ve discussed it with my doctor. I don’t know what I was waiting for.”
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and instinctively moved a step away from Gerome. A couple of teenagers were coming to look at the falls.
“You want to come over to our place? We can talk some more and get pizza when the others get home in a couple of hours.”
“I’d love to. I don’t want to be by myself right now.”
I texted our address to Gerome, then texted Pascal and Jericho to fill them in.
Pascal: Flame emoji. Hot dog. That night in Wakefield still features pretty big on my wank-off list.
Me: He’s not coming for sex and we’re going to be gentlemen. I’m afraid he’s had an STD scare, and he’s freaking out a bit.
Pascal: HIV?
Me: Yes. Someone he hooked up after us tested positive.
Pascal: Shit. Poor kid.
Jericho made the same assumption, that Gerome was heading over for a sexcapade, but I explained what was going on.
Jericho: Oh damn. So, pizza, beer and a movie?
Me: Yep. He just needs to chill and talk about it.
“Let’s go, then,” I said, and Gerome followed me to my car.
As I drove back to the townhouse I shared with Pascal and Jericho, I told Gerome about a health scare I’d had a few years ago.
“I know a bit about waiting for test results.”
“Shit, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I had to get a biopsy, though, and that was terrifying. It turned out to be benign.” I waved my hand in the air. “Not to minimize your situation.”
“No, no. Please minimize it,” Gerome said, leaning back in the passenger seat and watching me drive.
I laughed.
Gerome looked appreciatively at the home I shared with my two partners when I pulled into the drive.
“This is such a cute house.”
“Yeah. It was Jericho and Pascal’s place first. I moved in a few years ago.”
He followed me inside.
“Make yourself at home. Jericho and Pascal will be here soon.”
He looked around, and his eyes bugged out.
“Wow, this is a fantastic place. Who does the decorating?”
“Pascal mostly.”
Gerome sat on the leather sofa, stretching his legs out. “Do you still go up to the cottage?”
The cottage…
“Yes, but it belongs to my friend, Duke. We’re usually up there with him and his husband.”
Gerome raised his eyebrows, and I laughed. “No, no. They’re just friends. It’s the three of us and the two of them.”
The thought of being sexual with Duke and his husband was hilarious. Not because they weren’t attractive, but they were almost family.
“Oh. Not the weekend we met, though.”
I grinned, remembering. “No. They let us borrow it for the weekend. Trust me, you were a lovely amuse-bouche after a couple of days of rampant debauchery. Want something to drink?”
“Sure.”
“I’ve got lemonade and soft drinks, beer and wine…”
“A glass of wine might chill me out.”
“Wine it is. White or red?”
“Red, please.”
I went into the kitchen and poured a glass of red wine for Gerome and one for myself. Then I returned to the living room and handed him the glass.
“Thanks,” he said. He took a sip. “Oh yeah. This is what I need.” He frowned, then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Scott, do you think…do you think I’m reckless?”
“Gerome, come on. You said you’ve discussed PrEP with your doctor. I think it might be a good idea…” I gazed at his morose expression. “Do you think you’re reckless?”
He sighed. “Maybe a little.” He took another drink of his wine, then placed the glass on the coffee table.
I sat down beside him and put my glass next to his.
He continued. “I keep thinking back to it, and wondering what I was thinking. Why did I go down on the guy? Why did I have to swallow? I knew it was risky, but in that moment, I didn’t care.”
“Remind me how old you are,” I said in a soft voice, gazing at him with kindness. I knew he was much younger than me, but I couldn’t remember his actual age. I was pretty sure he’d been twenty when we’d had him for a spontaneous dessert.
“Old enough to know better. I’m twenty-two.”
“Jesus. I was not as responsible at twenty-two as you seem to be. I’ve taken my share of risks. Luckily, I wised up before it was too late, and I’ve had numerous negative test results since then.”
“Are you guys on PrEP?”
“The two of them were, when we met. But they’ve stopped taking it, as we’re keeping things exclusive between the three of us now, and…” I met Gerome’s bashful gaze, “Being safe with anyone new.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“We don’t fuck other people. We might play around a little, but there are minimal bodily fluids involved and we don’t do it often. Honestly, we’ve only ever done it with you.”
“Really?” He seemed astonished.
“Yeah. What did you think? That we picked up a new twink every weekend?”
He blushed and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Well, we don’t. God, for one thing, we don’t have the energy. But that was a fun night. And we played safe.”
“You guys took very good care of me, as I remember,” Gerome mused, letting his gaze run down my body. “I wish I was here for something other than moral support, except I can’t even think about sex right now.”
At that moment, a key turned in a lock and the front door pushed open. Jericho and Pascal came in.
“We’re here, we’re queer, and we’re gonna order pizza!” Pascal said boisterously as they came in. “Gerome!”
“Hey! Oh my God, it’s great to see you guys.”
“Gerome,” Jericho said. “Scott told us about your predicament. Well, not the details. If you want to talk about it, we’re all ears.”
“Thanks,” Gerome said. “I don’t know any other guys your ages to talk to. Well, except my actual Dad, but there’s no way that’s happening. We don’t talk much these days and I’m not telling him about this, or what lead to it.”
Pascal started laughing. He elbowed Jericho. “Our ages. Did you hear that? We’re fucking Daddies! Whoop whoop.”
Gerome smiled. “I only mean that I look up to you.”
“Thank you,” I said. “We do have a considerable amount of experience between the three of us.”
“And FYI, I’m the youngest, if you didn’t already know,” Jericho said.
“And also the kinkiest. I can’t remember, does Gerome know about Dr. Griffin?” Pascal asked.
Gerome’s gaze flew between us. “The what now?”
“Ooooh!” Pascal said with great excitement. “He doesn’t know what a kinky fucker you are, Jericho.”
“I don’t think we need to tell Gerome all of our dirty little secrets,” I muttered, embarrassed about the way Jericho and Pascal and I played sometimes. There was medical kink and there was medical kink , and we were into the serious kind.
Gerome sat up straighter. “Oh yes, you do. Because if you can make me realize I haven’t been the biggest slut on the block this year, that would be amazing.”
“Trust me, it’s him,” Pascal said, pointing to me. “No, wait. It’s him.” He pointed to Jericho. Then he shrugged. “Or it could be me. It’s definitely not you.”
“Fine, we’ll let you in on our little secret,” Jericho said, winking. “But only after the pizza’s been ordered. I’m starved.”
After a discussion with Gerome about what he liked and didn’t like on pizza, we ordered two large pies—one with meat, and the other all veggies. Then Pascal and Jericho said all the same things that I had to Gerome, to reassure him about the probable results of his blood test.
He seemed to be calming down.
“Don’t forget that a positive HIV test result isn’t a death sentence anymore,” Jericho murmured. “The treatments have come a long way.”
“I don’t think many people, at least in North America, actually go on to develop AIDS,” Pascal agreed.
“Oh, what about Grant and Christopher?” I said, remembering the couple we’d known for several years.
Jericho nodded. “They’re HIV positive and have been married for what, eight years?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Undetectable. I hardly remember they have it,” Pascal said.
“That’s encouraging,” Gerome said, a hopeful look in his eyes.
“I can give you their contact information if you want to talk to them about it,” I said. “I don’t think they’d mind.”
“Thanks,” Gerome said. “Now, about this little secret. I’m dying to know what it is…”
“Oh boy,” I said, glancing at Pascal.
He laughed. “Maybe we should just show Gerome the exam room?”
Gerome coughed. “Excuse me?”
Jericho leapt up from the couch. “Come on. I’ll take you to my office.”
“What is happening?” Gerome asked, glancing to me and Pascal.
Pascale winked. “You’re getting a look at how perverted we are. That should distract you.”
Gerome, Pascal, and I followed Jericho down the hall to a door on the right of the hallway.
Jericho put his hand on the knob and turned to Gerome. “You ready?”
“Sure.”
Pascal and I exchanged a look.
Jericho twisted the handle and pushed the door open, letting it swing wide while he crossed his arms and nodded. “There you go.”
An audible breath left Gerome as he got his first look at Dr. Griffin’s exam room. Dr. Griffin was Jericho’s alter ego when we were engaged in this kind of play.
“Holy shit,” Gerome said, eyes wide as he took everything in. He swallowed, then looked at us. “So which one of you is the doctor?”
Jericho raised his hand while Pascal and I pointed his way.
“Dr. Griffin, at your service,” Jericho purred. He glanced at me. “But I’m not taking outside appointments anymore.”
I smiled. That was a concession to me, although I didn’t think Pascal was all that upset about it. There were three of us now. We were unlikely to get bored.
“Honestly, in a way, I’m relieved to hear it,” Gerome said, eyeing me and Pascal, probably imagining both of us submitting to weekly or monthly ‘exams’.
I raised my hand. “I’m the patient. Pascal is Dr. Griffin’s assistant.”
Gerome’s eyes went even wider. “You!”
I shrugged, giving him an indulgent smile.
“Yes, well, Scott was quite the surprise,” Jericho said, leaning on the doorframe. “We picked him up at a kinky Halloween party and brought him home. Decided to keep him.”
“Hardy, har,” I said. “It was a little more complicated than that. But, yeah, it worked out in the end.”
Jericho grinned. “Oh, it definitely worked out in the end .”
Pascal hooted.
“How are you the king of dad jokes when you aren’t even a dad?” I asked.
“Oh, Scott. You are a naughty, naughty boy for implying that I’m not at least your daddy. And probably his,” Jericho said, gesturing toward Pascal, who barked.
Gerome’s eyes went even wider.
Jericho held up his hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Not daddy to you then. Master?”
Pascal barked again.
Gerome was grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, this relationship has layers.”
“It certainly does,” I said, blushing.
“May I?” Gerome asked, gesturing to the contents of the exam room.
“Of course,” Jericho said. “Just don’t touch anything. Most of these things are sterile.”
“Jesus Christ,” Gerome muttered. “Okay, you guys win.”
“See?” Pascal said. “You’re not the sluttiest.”
Gerome walked into the room with some caution, glancing back with various expressions on his sweet face as he took it in—the steel exam table with stirrups; the IV stand with enema bag and tube; the sterilized implements on the tray.
“Jesus. If I’d known about this, I might have been into it back in Wakefield.”
“Yeah, I didn’t have all my stuff at Duke’s cottage,” Jericho admitted.
“Some of it, though,” I muttered.
“Well, I wouldn’t be a good doctor if I wasn’t prepared for emergencies,” he said, looking me over.
I couldn’t help laughing, remembering the milk enema he’d given me that weekend, much to Pascal’s delight. And mine, if I was being honest. I loved that Jericho was so damn creative and such a fucking pervert.
Gerome turned to Pascal. “So, you’re Dr. Griffin’s assistant?”
“Yes.”
“And a…pup?”
Pascal nodded and yipped, then grinned.
“Huh. You guys are wild.”
“Just kinky and with minimal hangups,” Jericho said. “Now, that’s enough gawking at my medical equipment, young man. Let’s go pick a movie. The pizza will be here soon.”
We wanted to watch something light and upbeat, so we chose The Devil Wears Prada. Just as it was starting, Jericho jumped up.
“Hold on.”
We exchanged curious looks until Jericho returned, carrying a colorful tin jar that I recognized immediately.
“Ah,” I said.
“Yes!” Pascal muttered, holding out his hand.
“Dessert,” Jericho said, taking the top off the tin and holding it out to Gerome.
“What the fuck?”
Jericho pulled the tin back to his chest, staring at Gerome in shock.
“You’ve never seen a tin of Chuppa Chups?”
Gerome looked confused. “Um…”
“These are the best lollipops you can buy,” Jericho explained. “They were super popular in the eighties, apparently. Luckily, you can still get them.”
“Lollipops?” Gerome asked, grinning.
“Mm hm,” Jericho said, pulling one out and checking the wrapper. “How do you feel about blueberry?”
“Good.”
Jericho handed the lollipop to Gerome, then held the tin out to me and Pascal. We each took one. I got raspberry.
Jericho had become obsessed with the popular retro lollipops when he’d quit smoking many years ago. He always had a tin of them on hand.
“Maybe sucking on something will soothe you,” Jericho said to Gerome, grinning.
Gerome frowned. “That’s what got me into this mess in the first place.”
“Okay, but a Chuppa Chup is harmless. And they taste so good.”
Gerome unwrapped his sucker and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm.”
I stared at sweet Gerome wrapping his lips around the blueberry lollipop and tried not to get hard. But it was hopeless. I glanced at Pascal, who seemed to be having the same problem.
I jumped up. “Anyone want popcorn?”
“You want me to hit pause?” Jericho asked, the white stick of his lollipop jutting from between his teeth.
“No, no, I’ll just catch up. I’ve seen it a few times. It’s all good.”
I went into the kitchen as Pascal stood and followed me.
“Hey, I’ll help.”
I set up the air popper while Pascal got the jar of kernels. I put a whack of butter into the melting pan and set a bowl underneath the chute, then turned on the machine. Now we could talk without worrying about being overheard.
“Jesus. He’s just as cute as he was last summer. I’m trying to ignore it, but it’s difficult,” Pascal muttered.
“Yeah, me too. He’s such a nice kid. I feel bad that he’s stressing out over these test results.”
“Maybe everyone has to have a close call before they truly wise up and start taking these risks seriously. He’s so young,” Pascal said.
“Compared to you and me, sure.”
“Jericho’s not that much younger than us,” Pascal said.
“But he’s closer in age to Gerome,” I pointed out.
“Sure, sure. But does it matter?”
“No, I guess not.”
Pascal leaned against the counter. “You thinking about Duke’s cottage?”
“Yeah. How can I not?”
He shrugged. “So rein it in. Like I’m doing.”
I grinned. “Of course. I’ll have you know, I’m a gentleman.”
We exchanged a look, remembering every debasing thing Jericho had ever done to me, and burst out laughing.
I shrugged. “In some circumstances.”
“Right.”
“And who knows? If Gerome’s test results come back fine, maybe he’d want to give us a go again, and we could have even more fun together.”
Pascal shrugged. “You know, if he is positive—I hope not, but it could happen—we could still have some safe fun with him, and show him that he’s not a pariah. Not right away, obviously, but once he gets on track with his meds. When he’s in the right headspace. If he even wants to.”
“Sure.”
There were two things we had to do. One was to make sure Gerome was supported through the anxious waiting period, and two, through whatever the results turned out to be. If he was neg, we’d encourage him to get onto PrEP, or even get a prescription for Doxy-PEP. If Gerome was going to be sexually active, even if he continued to use condoms for penetrative sex with strangers, taking those further precautions would be wise.