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Marco meets Marco
10 November 2020 16:11Imagine you get introduced to your clone, but you're both wearing blindfolds. You hug yourself, kiss yourself, can't see yourself. Are you sexually attracted to yourself this way, if you're gay?
Chris says, "I'm gonna leave you guys alone, you can see each other in a second."
And then they do, visual and infrareds. Marco is still naked, and the other Marco thought it only fair to match, not like our bodies are a secret from each other.
"Thanks, you saved my life," Marco said, as they both steamed in the lights, hugging each other.
"Yeah, although it was about way more than saving your life," Marco-Prime said.
"Yeah."
They sat down together, looked at each other, touched each other,
But Marco-Prime interrupted the scene, "So now you guys are gonna wipe me, and raise me as a blank clone. Sure, your DNA, but I want my own life. I don't want your life."
"That ... will take ... years, you'll be a baby in a man's body ... that's what I thought was going to happen to me ..."
"Yup, but it's what I want to happen to me. You owe me. Daddy."
Chris says, "I'm gonna leave you guys alone, you can see each other in a second."
And then they do, visual and infrareds. Marco is still naked, and the other Marco thought it only fair to match, not like our bodies are a secret from each other.
"Thanks, you saved my life," Marco said, as they both steamed in the lights, hugging each other.
"Yeah, although it was about way more than saving your life," Marco-Prime said.
"Yeah."
They sat down together, looked at each other, touched each other,
But Marco-Prime interrupted the scene, "So now you guys are gonna wipe me, and raise me as a blank clone. Sure, your DNA, but I want my own life. I don't want your life."
"That ... will take ... years, you'll be a baby in a man's body ... that's what I thought was going to happen to me ..."
"Yup, but it's what I want to happen to me. You owe me. Daddy."
After seeing Tate to the car, Chris went back to the sub-basement where Marco was still recuperating from his ordeal. Marco had all his memories back, and had been allowed to keep his memories of the past week, but Mama Bo was nowhere to be found. And now Tate was gone.
Sitting down next to Marco, Chris turned off the TV, gave him a kiss, "Hey, how are you doing? Ready to get out of here?"
"Physically, I'll be OK," Marco replied, "keep feeding me that excellent food from your kitchen. Mentally, everything seems to check out, all memories present and no signs of PTTD, all skills accounted for at 100%. Emotionally ... my heart feels broken, like I've been cast out of the Garden of Eden."
"Yeah," Chris said, squeezing Marco's hand.
"How did you do it, though?"
"We told you, you did it."
"That was part of the bullshit, though, like letting me think there was still a year left before the bomb went off, when it was more like a week."
Chris grinned, but Marco was wearing the blindfold now, of course. "So much bullshit, man! But you did it."
"Why withhold those memories from me then? Some sort of state secret, what I did to defeat the PTTD?"
"Not at all," Chris countered, "But they aren't your memories to have, because we had to pull one of your clones out of storage, boot him up with your last pre-PTTD healthy backup, and enlist his help to hack you. Nobody else but you could've hacked you, so we had to pull another you out of storage."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"And where is this slightly younger version of me now?"
"He's upstairs, he's been watching everything and tweaking everything all along. He's dying to meet you."
"Damn. You hated being a clone, Chris. What's this guy thinking?"
"You'll have to ask him yourself. Come with me."
Sitting down next to Marco, Chris turned off the TV, gave him a kiss, "Hey, how are you doing? Ready to get out of here?"
"Physically, I'll be OK," Marco replied, "keep feeding me that excellent food from your kitchen. Mentally, everything seems to check out, all memories present and no signs of PTTD, all skills accounted for at 100%. Emotionally ... my heart feels broken, like I've been cast out of the Garden of Eden."
"Yeah," Chris said, squeezing Marco's hand.
"How did you do it, though?"
"We told you, you did it."
"That was part of the bullshit, though, like letting me think there was still a year left before the bomb went off, when it was more like a week."
Chris grinned, but Marco was wearing the blindfold now, of course. "So much bullshit, man! But you did it."
"Why withhold those memories from me then? Some sort of state secret, what I did to defeat the PTTD?"
"Not at all," Chris countered, "But they aren't your memories to have, because we had to pull one of your clones out of storage, boot him up with your last pre-PTTD healthy backup, and enlist his help to hack you. Nobody else but you could've hacked you, so we had to pull another you out of storage."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"And where is this slightly younger version of me now?"
"He's upstairs, he's been watching everything and tweaking everything all along. He's dying to meet you."
"Damn. You hated being a clone, Chris. What's this guy thinking?"
"You'll have to ask him yourself. Come with me."
That evening, Matt made dinner, as Tate had made lunch -- Tate had sent down a portion of the caesar salad for Matt to eat in his studio. While Matt was cooking, they made small talk, which was no small feat given all that had happened recently. As they talked, Tate finally checked his email, and logged into his YouTube channel.
"They voted against!" he exclaimed.
"Yeah, I know," Matt replied.
"I don't care!" Tate declared.
"Good!"
"I'm gonna visit Ma first, to bail her out. Then after she's settled back home, we can schedule the surgery."
"OK, that's fine." Matt was listening out of one ear, but this was a complicated dish: fried fish tacos, with Mexican vegetable fried rice, lots of flour everywhere, and oil splattering.
But it all came together. Matt assembled the plates and brought them over, saying, "I'm so hungry! I forgot to have my snack this afternoon."
Tate warned him sternly, "But before we start eating, I have something to tell you. Sit down, though."
Uh oh. From his office, Alex started paying very close attention.
"OK. Um ... is everything OK?"
Tate gathered himself together, took a deep breath, and began, "From now on, I'm your Sir."
Matt couldn't believe his ears. "Oh!?"
"That's right. Say, 'Yes, Sir' back to me." Tate waited.
Matt's brain made no sense. Alex piped up, "Do it, Matt, I'm no longer your Sir. Tate's your Sir."
"Don't I have a say in this?" Matt asked sort of angrily, although he was also getting super aroused.
Tate took another deep breath, "Your 'say' is to say 'Yes, Sir' and to get on your knees. Either do that now, or I'm going out for a while. Maybe I'll get a hotel room with my bonus. Figure out my next moves."
"Damn," said Alex, from the ceiling.
"Alex, shut up, emergencies only." Tate ordered.
"You're the Boss now," Alex agreed, signing off.
Tate waited.
A very confused Matt did the only thing that made sense to him, he said it, "Yes, Sir," and got on his knees.
"Good boy. Now get down on your belly and kiss my feet while I eat the dinner you made for me."
WTF, but Matt did what he was told, his cock hardening like an iron rod in his pants.
"And after I finish eating, you're going to clean up and meet me in the dungeon. We'll send your plate to Alex. I'm your dinner tonight."
"Yes, Sir," Matt said, as he hungrily kissed Tate's feet. WTF just happened!
"They voted against!" he exclaimed.
"Yeah, I know," Matt replied.
"I don't care!" Tate declared.
"Good!"
"I'm gonna visit Ma first, to bail her out. Then after she's settled back home, we can schedule the surgery."
"OK, that's fine." Matt was listening out of one ear, but this was a complicated dish: fried fish tacos, with Mexican vegetable fried rice, lots of flour everywhere, and oil splattering.
But it all came together. Matt assembled the plates and brought them over, saying, "I'm so hungry! I forgot to have my snack this afternoon."
Tate warned him sternly, "But before we start eating, I have something to tell you. Sit down, though."
Uh oh. From his office, Alex started paying very close attention.
"OK. Um ... is everything OK?"
Tate gathered himself together, took a deep breath, and began, "From now on, I'm your Sir."
Matt couldn't believe his ears. "Oh!?"
"That's right. Say, 'Yes, Sir' back to me." Tate waited.
Matt's brain made no sense. Alex piped up, "Do it, Matt, I'm no longer your Sir. Tate's your Sir."
"Don't I have a say in this?" Matt asked sort of angrily, although he was also getting super aroused.
Tate took another deep breath, "Your 'say' is to say 'Yes, Sir' and to get on your knees. Either do that now, or I'm going out for a while. Maybe I'll get a hotel room with my bonus. Figure out my next moves."
"Damn," said Alex, from the ceiling.
"Alex, shut up, emergencies only." Tate ordered.
"You're the Boss now," Alex agreed, signing off.
Tate waited.
A very confused Matt did the only thing that made sense to him, he said it, "Yes, Sir," and got on his knees.
"Good boy. Now get down on your belly and kiss my feet while I eat the dinner you made for me."
WTF, but Matt did what he was told, his cock hardening like an iron rod in his pants.
"And after I finish eating, you're going to clean up and meet me in the dungeon. We'll send your plate to Alex. I'm your dinner tonight."
"Yes, Sir," Matt said, as he hungrily kissed Tate's feet. WTF just happened!
August 18, 2059
Matt was busy doing podcast stuff, so Tate invited Alex to join him in person for lunch. Tate cooks well, and has reorganized the kitchen so he can find everything. He asked Lisa for recipe suggestions, based on what ingredients were available, and what Alex likes to eat. Lisa helps him when he can't find or identify something. It's also part of the living-together rules Matt & Tate worked out, that Tate needs to cook at least one meal per day, and do some other chores.
As they dug into their meal -- caesar salad with chicken breast -- Alex asked whether Tate was feeling any better than yesterday.
"No! You always pretend like you don't know everything that goes on here." Tate pouted.
"No? I thought you guys talked it out."
"Whatever."
Alex was enjoying his food, took a minute to savor it, "Thanks for cooking, this is great."
"You're welcome."
"So, did you like doing a 'top-secret' assignment? Would you do another one? Do you want to become one of Chris's 'Bond girls'?"
"It was fun, but it was also horrible. And I'm still not sure what really happened. And what's a 'Bond girl'?"
"That sounds like a good assignment then, better than picking up a dead drop from a public park at 2am every night, or doing surveillance on a boring dude all week. A 'Bond girl' means one of the secret agent gals who seduced James Bond in the '007' movies."
"I never liked those movies. I dunno, I don't think I'd be any good at seducing people who I don't like." Tate didn't think he was much of a seducer at all. He'd only had sex with two people, both of whom he'd met through Chris, both of whom had experienced extreme social isolation due to crazy technological problems with their brains/implants when he jumped into their lives. It looked like he had a thing for lonely, broken guys. Maybe because he felt like a lonely, broken guy too.
Alex pointed out, "The Bond girls always liked James Bond. Anyway. There are people who make a career of having sex with spies. I think you'd be good at it."
Tate stuck his tongue out and made a sound like "phblphblech".
"And it pays well. And you probably don't even need to fix your eyes to do that job."
"phblphblech, phblphblech, but I have decided to fix my eyes, but first I have to visit Mom and bail her out, because I remembered they don't let people with implants into her jail building for security reasons."
"Ah, good call."
They ate some more, quietly, then Tate asked, "How did you get into security as a career?"
"Hmmm," Alex had to think about the why, more than the how. "Well, what you're good at in school, your temperament, and whether the on-campus interviewers from the security companies think you're full of shit. Needing the money. And liking the people you work for. I guess by temperament I mean you have to be assertive and enjoy paying attention to details. Security is not something you do half-way."
Tate didn't respond immediately, taking some time to eat.
Alex decided to change the subject, and prepared for the reaction, "I want you to know something. When you first arrived here I ordered Matt to be monogamous with you for as long as you want him to be, even if that meant the rest of his life. This order did not and does not depend on you being monogamous with him. And Matt will follow this order until you release him from it."
Tate didn't respond immediately. Which surprised Alex. This kid was not 100% predictable.
"Why does Matt follow your orders?" asked Tate, sounding genuinely curious.
"Man, I'm not a psychiatrist! It's how we roll. I'm his Sir, he's my boy, and he follows my rules. He needs to follow somebody's rules. He follows mine. He'd probably follow yours also, if you were into that kind of thing."
"What if I told you to stop giving him orders, because he's my boyfriend now."
Damn!
Alex considered his words carefully. "If that's what both of you wanted. My arrangement with Matt is consensual. He's allowed to break up with me. Hell, he's allowed to fire me. But watch out for the severance payment, my contract is tight."
"I was just asking! I don't want to get rid of you, Alex! This is my first relationship, I'm still learning how these things work, and I'm afraid I fucked it up already. You know Matt way better than I do, you guys have 'systems' or whatever. I think he's going to dump me for ... Ugh." Tate threw his silverware to the side and was about to cry.
"No, he's not. I think Matt was much more worried that you were in danger, than you were having sex with somebody else. Were you in danger?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Probably? But everything seemed pretty well locked down."
"I'm sure Chris locked down as much as possible. He's the best."
"No, he's not. But he's pretty darn good. I think we were just lucky."
Matt was busy doing podcast stuff, so Tate invited Alex to join him in person for lunch. Tate cooks well, and has reorganized the kitchen so he can find everything. He asked Lisa for recipe suggestions, based on what ingredients were available, and what Alex likes to eat. Lisa helps him when he can't find or identify something. It's also part of the living-together rules Matt & Tate worked out, that Tate needs to cook at least one meal per day, and do some other chores.
As they dug into their meal -- caesar salad with chicken breast -- Alex asked whether Tate was feeling any better than yesterday.
"No! You always pretend like you don't know everything that goes on here." Tate pouted.
"No? I thought you guys talked it out."
"Whatever."
Alex was enjoying his food, took a minute to savor it, "Thanks for cooking, this is great."
"You're welcome."
"So, did you like doing a 'top-secret' assignment? Would you do another one? Do you want to become one of Chris's 'Bond girls'?"
"It was fun, but it was also horrible. And I'm still not sure what really happened. And what's a 'Bond girl'?"
"That sounds like a good assignment then, better than picking up a dead drop from a public park at 2am every night, or doing surveillance on a boring dude all week. A 'Bond girl' means one of the secret agent gals who seduced James Bond in the '007' movies."
"I never liked those movies. I dunno, I don't think I'd be any good at seducing people who I don't like." Tate didn't think he was much of a seducer at all. He'd only had sex with two people, both of whom he'd met through Chris, both of whom had experienced extreme social isolation due to crazy technological problems with their brains/implants when he jumped into their lives. It looked like he had a thing for lonely, broken guys. Maybe because he felt like a lonely, broken guy too.
Alex pointed out, "The Bond girls always liked James Bond. Anyway. There are people who make a career of having sex with spies. I think you'd be good at it."
Tate stuck his tongue out and made a sound like "phblphblech".
"And it pays well. And you probably don't even need to fix your eyes to do that job."
"phblphblech, phblphblech, but I have decided to fix my eyes, but first I have to visit Mom and bail her out, because I remembered they don't let people with implants into her jail building for security reasons."
"Ah, good call."
They ate some more, quietly, then Tate asked, "How did you get into security as a career?"
"Hmmm," Alex had to think about the why, more than the how. "Well, what you're good at in school, your temperament, and whether the on-campus interviewers from the security companies think you're full of shit. Needing the money. And liking the people you work for. I guess by temperament I mean you have to be assertive and enjoy paying attention to details. Security is not something you do half-way."
Tate didn't respond immediately, taking some time to eat.
Alex decided to change the subject, and prepared for the reaction, "I want you to know something. When you first arrived here I ordered Matt to be monogamous with you for as long as you want him to be, even if that meant the rest of his life. This order did not and does not depend on you being monogamous with him. And Matt will follow this order until you release him from it."
Tate didn't respond immediately. Which surprised Alex. This kid was not 100% predictable.
"Why does Matt follow your orders?" asked Tate, sounding genuinely curious.
"Man, I'm not a psychiatrist! It's how we roll. I'm his Sir, he's my boy, and he follows my rules. He needs to follow somebody's rules. He follows mine. He'd probably follow yours also, if you were into that kind of thing."
"What if I told you to stop giving him orders, because he's my boyfriend now."
Damn!
Alex considered his words carefully. "If that's what both of you wanted. My arrangement with Matt is consensual. He's allowed to break up with me. Hell, he's allowed to fire me. But watch out for the severance payment, my contract is tight."
"I was just asking! I don't want to get rid of you, Alex! This is my first relationship, I'm still learning how these things work, and I'm afraid I fucked it up already. You know Matt way better than I do, you guys have 'systems' or whatever. I think he's going to dump me for ... Ugh." Tate threw his silverware to the side and was about to cry.
"No, he's not. I think Matt was much more worried that you were in danger, than you were having sex with somebody else. Were you in danger?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Probably? But everything seemed pretty well locked down."
"I'm sure Chris locked down as much as possible. He's the best."
"No, he's not. But he's pretty darn good. I think we were just lucky."
who wants what
9 November 2020 20:43Tate pinballed between memories and guilt and uncertainty, although the pace of these thoughts slowed a bit as the Benadryl kicked in. It was great how Matt had labeled all the bottles for him in Braille. Just one of the small ways Matt showed he cared and was willing to change his life to include Tate. Matt wasn't an angel, he got grumpy about things ... ugh.
Tate was just starting to feel sleepy again when Matt popped his head in the doorway and softly called his name. Tate didn't know what to do or say. He pulled the pillow from Matt's side of the bed over his face, forming a Tate sandwich.
"Oh, dear," Matt said, moving to join him in the bed, kicking off his shoes along the way. "What's wrong? Have you had breakfast yet?"
"No," Tate whimpered softly.
"Lisa, please have someone send up Tate's favorite breakfast."
"OK!"
"I don't want to eat," Tate said into the pillow.
"You don't have to eat," Matt replied as he moved to snuggle with Tate. Tate then tossed the extra pillow aside and tried to burrow deeply into Matt's chest, then he started to cry again, choking sobs, which would've alarmed Matt if he hadn't been warned by Chris yesterday, and Alex this morning.
"It's OK, whatever it is, it's over now, you're safe, and I'm here."
More sobbing, but less intense over time. Matt caressed his young lover, tried to massage his muscles a bit.
Then Tate announced, "I cheated on you," and resumed his heavy choking sobs.
"Shhh, it's OK. You're the one who wanted me to be monogamous, I didn't ask that of you."
"And I have feelings for him," Tate managed to say.
"That's fine, that's what humans do, we have feelings for each other."
But Tate started punching Matt in the chest and yelling, "But I love you!" and more crying.
"I know, I love you too."
Tate screamed, "UGH!" but allowed himself to be touched, hugged, kissed.
"Plus, if Mom lets me bail her out, she'll want me to move back in with her."
"I suppose she would, she misses you very much."
"UGH! My life became so complicated!"
"Yes, for now. But you also can make choices, and as you get older you can make even more choices. Right now I'm choosing to sit here with you, for as long as you need me to. Because I love you."
More sobs, but Matt could feel some of the tension evaporating from Tate's body.
"I can't tell you more details, but I cheated on you, and I feel horrible about it . But he loved me. He needed me. He needed me like nobody has ever needed me before."
"Shhh. I know you like to take care of people. It's something you liked about your job with Chris, that you got to take care of his visitors. Like you took care of me."
"Yeah, but I didn't have SEX with them." Tate resumed punching Matt in the chest and belly. Matt just tried to hold him tighter.
"Do you want me to be mad at you? Because I'm not."
"UGH! Yes you are, because it's not fair. I made you promise monogamy, then I have sex with the first naked guy I spend time with."
"Really, the first naked guy? You had sex with him because he was naked." Matt couldn't help but smile, and kiss Tate some more.
"No. I had sex with him because I like him."
"That's good. Shhhh, it's OK. OK with me, anyway, I'm used to open relationships. And I've experienced some of their complications. Alex was very mad that I wanted to go visit Chris that first time. Although he didn't stop me. On the other hand, he's very supportive of my relationship with you. People have emotions, there's nothing wrong with having emotions."
"But what if I want to hang out with this guy again? I mean, he's not dead now or anything."
"I'm glad he's not dead now! Well, if you want to see him again, and he wants to see you again, then we all talk about it."
"UGH!" But Tate was still calming down, despite himself. The Benadryl, the snuggles, the sobs, the talking. It's all what he needed.
Matt suggested, "But maybe first, go visit your Mom. Tell her you've got the cash for bail now. She needs you also."
Tate shrugged, "I was supposed to get my eyes fixed before I visited her again, so the next time I could see her."
"But you hadn't really decided about that yet."
"I want to see her, I want to see you, I want to see Chris -- well, he probably won't allow me to. I want to see ... this other guy. It's very confusing! I was happy here with you! I would still be happy here with you!"
"If you moved back in with your Mom, I'm sure she'd let you have sleepovers with me, and visit Chris, and probably hang out with other guys, she's pretty laid back."
"I know. She's too laid back."
"Hah! You don't have to decide anything right now. You're plainly exhausted by your long week 'saving the galaxy'."
Tate stuck a hand into Matt's face, "Shut up."
"OK. I'll shut up. You shut up also. Let's take a nap together."
Just then, somebody was showing up with breakfast for Tate, but they both yelled, "Go Away!" and the bedroom door was closed from the outside. Leaving them alone, together.
Tate was just starting to feel sleepy again when Matt popped his head in the doorway and softly called his name. Tate didn't know what to do or say. He pulled the pillow from Matt's side of the bed over his face, forming a Tate sandwich.
"Oh, dear," Matt said, moving to join him in the bed, kicking off his shoes along the way. "What's wrong? Have you had breakfast yet?"
"No," Tate whimpered softly.
"Lisa, please have someone send up Tate's favorite breakfast."
"OK!"
"I don't want to eat," Tate said into the pillow.
"You don't have to eat," Matt replied as he moved to snuggle with Tate. Tate then tossed the extra pillow aside and tried to burrow deeply into Matt's chest, then he started to cry again, choking sobs, which would've alarmed Matt if he hadn't been warned by Chris yesterday, and Alex this morning.
"It's OK, whatever it is, it's over now, you're safe, and I'm here."
More sobbing, but less intense over time. Matt caressed his young lover, tried to massage his muscles a bit.
Then Tate announced, "I cheated on you," and resumed his heavy choking sobs.
"Shhh, it's OK. You're the one who wanted me to be monogamous, I didn't ask that of you."
"And I have feelings for him," Tate managed to say.
"That's fine, that's what humans do, we have feelings for each other."
But Tate started punching Matt in the chest and yelling, "But I love you!" and more crying.
"I know, I love you too."
Tate screamed, "UGH!" but allowed himself to be touched, hugged, kissed.
"Plus, if Mom lets me bail her out, she'll want me to move back in with her."
"I suppose she would, she misses you very much."
"UGH! My life became so complicated!"
"Yes, for now. But you also can make choices, and as you get older you can make even more choices. Right now I'm choosing to sit here with you, for as long as you need me to. Because I love you."
More sobs, but Matt could feel some of the tension evaporating from Tate's body.
"I can't tell you more details, but I cheated on you, and I feel horrible about it . But he loved me. He needed me. He needed me like nobody has ever needed me before."
"Shhh. I know you like to take care of people. It's something you liked about your job with Chris, that you got to take care of his visitors. Like you took care of me."
"Yeah, but I didn't have SEX with them." Tate resumed punching Matt in the chest and belly. Matt just tried to hold him tighter.
"Do you want me to be mad at you? Because I'm not."
"UGH! Yes you are, because it's not fair. I made you promise monogamy, then I have sex with the first naked guy I spend time with."
"Really, the first naked guy? You had sex with him because he was naked." Matt couldn't help but smile, and kiss Tate some more.
"No. I had sex with him because I like him."
"That's good. Shhhh, it's OK. OK with me, anyway, I'm used to open relationships. And I've experienced some of their complications. Alex was very mad that I wanted to go visit Chris that first time. Although he didn't stop me. On the other hand, he's very supportive of my relationship with you. People have emotions, there's nothing wrong with having emotions."
"But what if I want to hang out with this guy again? I mean, he's not dead now or anything."
"I'm glad he's not dead now! Well, if you want to see him again, and he wants to see you again, then we all talk about it."
"UGH!" But Tate was still calming down, despite himself. The Benadryl, the snuggles, the sobs, the talking. It's all what he needed.
Matt suggested, "But maybe first, go visit your Mom. Tell her you've got the cash for bail now. She needs you also."
Tate shrugged, "I was supposed to get my eyes fixed before I visited her again, so the next time I could see her."
"But you hadn't really decided about that yet."
"I want to see her, I want to see you, I want to see Chris -- well, he probably won't allow me to. I want to see ... this other guy. It's very confusing! I was happy here with you! I would still be happy here with you!"
"If you moved back in with your Mom, I'm sure she'd let you have sleepovers with me, and visit Chris, and probably hang out with other guys, she's pretty laid back."
"I know. She's too laid back."
"Hah! You don't have to decide anything right now. You're plainly exhausted by your long week 'saving the galaxy'."
Tate stuck a hand into Matt's face, "Shut up."
"OK. I'll shut up. You shut up also. Let's take a nap together."
Just then, somebody was showing up with breakfast for Tate, but they both yelled, "Go Away!" and the bedroom door was closed from the outside. Leaving them alone, together.
August 17, 2059
When Tate woke, he could barely remember any of the trip home, or going upstairs to bed, or taking off his clothes, but here he was back in Matt's master bedroom, naked, covered by the blankets, and Matt wasn't here. Fuck!
"Lisa, where's Matt?"
"Matt is in the podcast studio, Tate. Should I call him for you?"
Lisa is Tate's nickname for the house computer.
"No, thanks."
Tate got up to pee, but it was difficult at first, because of his raging hard-on. Oh, no, the cum drugs and the viagra hadn't totally worn off yet. He's probably got another cup of semen ready to bang out. How was he going to explain that to Matt?
So, instead of explaining anything, he got in the shower, and jerked off, sending those billions of sperm cells down the drain. He'd send Chris a text asking when this shit wears off.
Toweled off, crawled back in bed, not ready to face a single corner of the world. He hadn't checked emails, hadn't checked his YouTube poll, nothin'.
And then he started to cry. Sobbing.
"Tate, are you OK?" It was Alex, Matt's chief of security, and ex-boyfriend, or something. He always listened to everything going on in the house, and periodically snooped through Matt's memories. It was his job, but he also loved Matt, and seemed to approve of Tate.
"Go away!" Tate yelled through his sobs.
"OK," Alex replied, but Tate knew Alex would be watching him more carefully now. Shit. Tate has never lived alone, but suddenly he wonders whether he should. But he's too young. It's here with Matt, or back with Chris. Or -- well, now he had the cash to bust Ma out of jail. Legally, by paying her bail. If she'd let him, she'd been stubborn about it with Chris. But Tate had earned this money himself!
Yeah, by having tons of sex, and sort of falling in love, and then breaking a man's heart as he "died".
And this enormo-cum was insane. Feeding Marco his enormo-cum for days, sucked off five or six times per day, crazy.
Poor Marco.
But Tate had cheated on Matt, and at first it had felt natural, like the right thing to do, but then ...
How can you both regret something and not regret it at the same time? It might have all made more sense if Marco had truly died. But Marco was still alive. But Marco was no longer the same person he'd slept with for a week. That version of Marco had been an artificial personality, or a partial personality, a man without memory. Marco didn't even know, couldn't know, whether he'd been cheating also.
"Alex?"
"Yeah, kid?"
"Can I have some of those sedatives that I'm always handing out when I'm working for Chris?"
"Maybe. Would have to clear it with Chris. You're not old enough, and you know that."
"OK, please ask Chris. I need some time off from everything after this past week. He'll understand."
"Got it," Alex replied.
Ugh! Why do people have to fall in love, why can't they just fuck each other for fun. It was fun, but it was also horribly sad. Tate felt sort of emotionally abused by the entire situation. But he freely chose to have all that sex. Ugh! Matt was going to kill him. But he wasn't supposed to tell Matt either. UGH!
"Chris said you should take a couple Benadryl from the bathroom cabinet."
Ugh, "OK!" Tate got up to do that. Went back to bed. Meanwhile Alex suggested to Matt that, maybe in about 30 minutes, he should check on Tate. But not for 30 minutes. Let the kid get sleepy again first.
When Tate woke, he could barely remember any of the trip home, or going upstairs to bed, or taking off his clothes, but here he was back in Matt's master bedroom, naked, covered by the blankets, and Matt wasn't here. Fuck!
"Lisa, where's Matt?"
"Matt is in the podcast studio, Tate. Should I call him for you?"
Lisa is Tate's nickname for the house computer.
"No, thanks."
Tate got up to pee, but it was difficult at first, because of his raging hard-on. Oh, no, the cum drugs and the viagra hadn't totally worn off yet. He's probably got another cup of semen ready to bang out. How was he going to explain that to Matt?
So, instead of explaining anything, he got in the shower, and jerked off, sending those billions of sperm cells down the drain. He'd send Chris a text asking when this shit wears off.
Toweled off, crawled back in bed, not ready to face a single corner of the world. He hadn't checked emails, hadn't checked his YouTube poll, nothin'.
And then he started to cry. Sobbing.
"Tate, are you OK?" It was Alex, Matt's chief of security, and ex-boyfriend, or something. He always listened to everything going on in the house, and periodically snooped through Matt's memories. It was his job, but he also loved Matt, and seemed to approve of Tate.
"Go away!" Tate yelled through his sobs.
"OK," Alex replied, but Tate knew Alex would be watching him more carefully now. Shit. Tate has never lived alone, but suddenly he wonders whether he should. But he's too young. It's here with Matt, or back with Chris. Or -- well, now he had the cash to bust Ma out of jail. Legally, by paying her bail. If she'd let him, she'd been stubborn about it with Chris. But Tate had earned this money himself!
Yeah, by having tons of sex, and sort of falling in love, and then breaking a man's heart as he "died".
And this enormo-cum was insane. Feeding Marco his enormo-cum for days, sucked off five or six times per day, crazy.
Poor Marco.
But Tate had cheated on Matt, and at first it had felt natural, like the right thing to do, but then ...
How can you both regret something and not regret it at the same time? It might have all made more sense if Marco had truly died. But Marco was still alive. But Marco was no longer the same person he'd slept with for a week. That version of Marco had been an artificial personality, or a partial personality, a man without memory. Marco didn't even know, couldn't know, whether he'd been cheating also.
"Alex?"
"Yeah, kid?"
"Can I have some of those sedatives that I'm always handing out when I'm working for Chris?"
"Maybe. Would have to clear it with Chris. You're not old enough, and you know that."
"OK, please ask Chris. I need some time off from everything after this past week. He'll understand."
"Got it," Alex replied.
Ugh! Why do people have to fall in love, why can't they just fuck each other for fun. It was fun, but it was also horribly sad. Tate felt sort of emotionally abused by the entire situation. But he freely chose to have all that sex. Ugh! Matt was going to kill him. But he wasn't supposed to tell Matt either. UGH!
"Chris said you should take a couple Benadryl from the bathroom cabinet."
Ugh, "OK!" Tate got up to do that. Went back to bed. Meanwhile Alex suggested to Matt that, maybe in about 30 minutes, he should check on Tate. But not for 30 minutes. Let the kid get sleepy again first.
August 16, 2059
Chris sent a car to pick up Matt, so Tate could ride back home with Matt together; it's normally a three-hour drive (without emergency clearance). Earlier this summer, as the summer began, Chris and Matt had planned a 3-day BDSM hookup that went horribly awry because of technical difficulties, and then Tate had surprisingly decided to go home with Matt -- a man he barely knew! Apparently because he was fed up with working as a houseboy for Chris, a job that required Tate to remain blind, although who can know the mind of a 16-year-old, blind-from-birth, gay teen whose drug-abusing mother is in jail for the alleged murder of his grandfather ...
Now Tate is 17, his mother still awaits trial, and he's recovering from the weeklong ordeal of supporting Marco through Marco's Wild Week, as parts of Vancouver are still on fire.
-----
Early in Matt's ride over, Chris called him.
"Hey," answered a worried-sounding Matt.
"Hey Matt, how are you?" Chris sounded concerned as well.
"I'm OK, had been a little worried about Tate, although I knew he was in good hands with you, but all this 'emergency' and 'life-and-death' and then 'top secret' ... and now the first nuclear weapon explosion in over a century ..."
"Yeah ... I'm sorry about the lack of details on Tate's assignment. But Tate was never in any danger, not in any more danger than anybody is these days. The nuke didn't land on top of us, and he was in the sub-basement anyway."
"What the hell with Tate working on 'top-secret' stuff -- how does a 17-year old have that kind of clearance?" Matt sounded more angry than worried now.
"Yeah ... well, one thing about top-secret assignments is we don't talk about the details of how people get clearance for top-secret assignments. He shouldn't even have told you it was top-secret, but he's young, and it was his first."
"Then, I'll have to assume his emergency assignment had nothing to do with a nuclear explosion going off 100 miles from your house."
"That would be best, Matt."
They were quiet for a while.
"Matt," Chris started, gently, "Tate is having a lot of guilty feelings about what he did this week. He might tell you about some of it, although he's not supposed to. I would ask that you be supportive in whatever way he needs, don't condemn him no matter what he says happened. He's a hero, and part of him realizes this, but another part of him feels like he betrayed you."
Matt sighed, "Well, yeah, he disappeared in the middle of the night, to return to a job he'd quit, and wouldn't tell me any details, so ..."
Chris continued, "It's not just that. He had to make some adult decisions, in the moment, and feels extremely conflicted about his behavior and his role. Ideally he won't talk with you about it, but he probably will, he probably needs to, and I want you to be ready to listen and to forgive."
Matt barked back, "Of course! All I do is support him!" Then he pulled back, "I'm sorry. I realize you're trying to help, that you're Tate's foster parent, whereas I'm just a billionaire playboy who plucked him out from under you."
Chris couldn't help but laugh, "Matt, I don't think about you that way! Something horrible happened to you on my watch, and I think Tate's natural caregiver tendencies led him to follow you out the door, and that's OK. He's old enough to start making his own decisions. And you were thoroughly vetted before you ever stepped foot into that bar where we met, of course."
"And," Chris kept going, "Tate thinks the world of you. And his Ma likes you also. I'm just asking you to ... not react in the moment. No matter what Tate tells you, if he tells you anything, because he's not supposed to."
"Got it. My new young lover went through something traumatic, isn't supposed to talk about it, so I need to take care of him for a while."
"Thanks, Matt. I've gotta go, but I'll greet you when you get here, and no need for a blindfold this time."
"See you soon, Chris."
-----
During the rest of the ride, Matt worked on his special update episode about Vancouver -- he'd been publishing a podcast series about the history of the Free City of Vancouver for a couple years, and now Vancouver was THE ONLY NEWS STORY IN THE WORLD, so his podcast was hitting #1 on the charts in several English-speaking countries, and he'd just signed a contract for translations into French, Mandarin, etc. Not that he needed the money, the price of gold had doubled since the explosion, and most of his billions were invested in gold-denominated bonds. He wondered whether the explosion had been engineered by the gold mining industry. He thinks he should sell half of them while people are panicking, but, what to buy instead?
Yet, "Top-Secret" Tate! The day before Tate left the house he'd been an emotional wreck about teenage social media drama, now he's some secret agent flying around Chris's galaxy of world-class hackers and multinational intelligence agencies.
OK, don't prejudge, allow Tate to be who he is, to make his own choices. Let him grow into an adult. Maybe he wants to become a secret agent and live the Top-Secret Lifestyle. It's just very strange.
Matt always figures Tate's maturation process will inevitably mean Tate leaves him. He's just too young, this is all too soon, and Matt was his first boyfriend, his first fully voluntary sexual experience, and Tate jumped into Matt's life without knowing anything about him. Except that Chris approved.
-----
Their reunion was joyful, tearful even, hugs all around, kisses, even hugs and kisses for Chris. Tate looked exhausted, and instead of bombarding Matt with guilty details, or any details, he quickly fell asleep in Matt's arms once they were underway in the car. Poor kid. My poor kid. My sexy poor kid. Sex can wait, of course. Tate can sleep all he wants, and then re-engage with his life, and decide whether to get the vision implants.
He'd thought Tate was thoroughly asleep, and then Tate half-mumbled, half-shouted, "Oh, with my bonus from this week I can pay for Mom's bail!"
"That's great! She'll be thrilled!"
But Tate may not be aware he'd said that, because two seconds later he resumed snoring into Matt's chest.
After about 90 minutes, halfway home, Tate woke and started petting Matt, sort of like you'd pet a puppy dog. Tate loves being physical, but in strange ways! Then he wanted a kiss. Then he said softly, "I'm sorry."
"Shhhh, it's OK, Chris kept me posted, sort of, that you were safe, but busy, and not-to-worry."
"I'm still sorry."
"Shhhh, I love you. Go back to sleep."
Chris sent a car to pick up Matt, so Tate could ride back home with Matt together; it's normally a three-hour drive (without emergency clearance). Earlier this summer, as the summer began, Chris and Matt had planned a 3-day BDSM hookup that went horribly awry because of technical difficulties, and then Tate had surprisingly decided to go home with Matt -- a man he barely knew! Apparently because he was fed up with working as a houseboy for Chris, a job that required Tate to remain blind, although who can know the mind of a 16-year-old, blind-from-birth, gay teen whose drug-abusing mother is in jail for the alleged murder of his grandfather ...
Now Tate is 17, his mother still awaits trial, and he's recovering from the weeklong ordeal of supporting Marco through Marco's Wild Week, as parts of Vancouver are still on fire.
-----
Early in Matt's ride over, Chris called him.
"Hey," answered a worried-sounding Matt.
"Hey Matt, how are you?" Chris sounded concerned as well.
"I'm OK, had been a little worried about Tate, although I knew he was in good hands with you, but all this 'emergency' and 'life-and-death' and then 'top secret' ... and now the first nuclear weapon explosion in over a century ..."
"Yeah ... I'm sorry about the lack of details on Tate's assignment. But Tate was never in any danger, not in any more danger than anybody is these days. The nuke didn't land on top of us, and he was in the sub-basement anyway."
"What the hell with Tate working on 'top-secret' stuff -- how does a 17-year old have that kind of clearance?" Matt sounded more angry than worried now.
"Yeah ... well, one thing about top-secret assignments is we don't talk about the details of how people get clearance for top-secret assignments. He shouldn't even have told you it was top-secret, but he's young, and it was his first."
"Then, I'll have to assume his emergency assignment had nothing to do with a nuclear explosion going off 100 miles from your house."
"That would be best, Matt."
They were quiet for a while.
"Matt," Chris started, gently, "Tate is having a lot of guilty feelings about what he did this week. He might tell you about some of it, although he's not supposed to. I would ask that you be supportive in whatever way he needs, don't condemn him no matter what he says happened. He's a hero, and part of him realizes this, but another part of him feels like he betrayed you."
Matt sighed, "Well, yeah, he disappeared in the middle of the night, to return to a job he'd quit, and wouldn't tell me any details, so ..."
Chris continued, "It's not just that. He had to make some adult decisions, in the moment, and feels extremely conflicted about his behavior and his role. Ideally he won't talk with you about it, but he probably will, he probably needs to, and I want you to be ready to listen and to forgive."
Matt barked back, "Of course! All I do is support him!" Then he pulled back, "I'm sorry. I realize you're trying to help, that you're Tate's foster parent, whereas I'm just a billionaire playboy who plucked him out from under you."
Chris couldn't help but laugh, "Matt, I don't think about you that way! Something horrible happened to you on my watch, and I think Tate's natural caregiver tendencies led him to follow you out the door, and that's OK. He's old enough to start making his own decisions. And you were thoroughly vetted before you ever stepped foot into that bar where we met, of course."
"And," Chris kept going, "Tate thinks the world of you. And his Ma likes you also. I'm just asking you to ... not react in the moment. No matter what Tate tells you, if he tells you anything, because he's not supposed to."
"Got it. My new young lover went through something traumatic, isn't supposed to talk about it, so I need to take care of him for a while."
"Thanks, Matt. I've gotta go, but I'll greet you when you get here, and no need for a blindfold this time."
"See you soon, Chris."
-----
During the rest of the ride, Matt worked on his special update episode about Vancouver -- he'd been publishing a podcast series about the history of the Free City of Vancouver for a couple years, and now Vancouver was THE ONLY NEWS STORY IN THE WORLD, so his podcast was hitting #1 on the charts in several English-speaking countries, and he'd just signed a contract for translations into French, Mandarin, etc. Not that he needed the money, the price of gold had doubled since the explosion, and most of his billions were invested in gold-denominated bonds. He wondered whether the explosion had been engineered by the gold mining industry. He thinks he should sell half of them while people are panicking, but, what to buy instead?
Yet, "Top-Secret" Tate! The day before Tate left the house he'd been an emotional wreck about teenage social media drama, now he's some secret agent flying around Chris's galaxy of world-class hackers and multinational intelligence agencies.
OK, don't prejudge, allow Tate to be who he is, to make his own choices. Let him grow into an adult. Maybe he wants to become a secret agent and live the Top-Secret Lifestyle. It's just very strange.
Matt always figures Tate's maturation process will inevitably mean Tate leaves him. He's just too young, this is all too soon, and Matt was his first boyfriend, his first fully voluntary sexual experience, and Tate jumped into Matt's life without knowing anything about him. Except that Chris approved.
-----
Their reunion was joyful, tearful even, hugs all around, kisses, even hugs and kisses for Chris. Tate looked exhausted, and instead of bombarding Matt with guilty details, or any details, he quickly fell asleep in Matt's arms once they were underway in the car. Poor kid. My poor kid. My sexy poor kid. Sex can wait, of course. Tate can sleep all he wants, and then re-engage with his life, and decide whether to get the vision implants.
He'd thought Tate was thoroughly asleep, and then Tate half-mumbled, half-shouted, "Oh, with my bonus from this week I can pay for Mom's bail!"
"That's great! She'll be thrilled!"
But Tate may not be aware he'd said that, because two seconds later he resumed snoring into Matt's chest.
After about 90 minutes, halfway home, Tate woke and started petting Matt, sort of like you'd pet a puppy dog. Tate loves being physical, but in strange ways! Then he wanted a kiss. Then he said softly, "I'm sorry."
"Shhhh, it's OK, Chris kept me posted, sort of, that you were safe, but busy, and not-to-worry."
"I'm still sorry."
"Shhhh, I love you. Go back to sleep."
