Make A Wish "Make A Wish" first appeared in the erotic ezine Ruthie's Club (www.ruthiesclub.com/gateway.php) in June 2005. ***** A foot of snow fell between midnight and sunrise Saturday morning. By sunset another two feet had fallen and Jake and I were officially snowed in. We stood at the big picture window sipping Irish coffee and watching the drifting flakes shroud the world in white. “This’ll give us a couple more days,” Jake said. “Good.” “I wish we had longer.” “Me too.” We were supposed to be skiing. Jake’s a top-notch skier. Me, I trip over my own feet even without skis. But that didn’t matter. This weekend wasn’t about skiing anyway; that’s just what we told people, to keep the questions at bay. The ‘boys’ weekends away’ we took now and then were all about us. Jake set his coffee down on the table, took mine and set it beside his. I went to him and we kissed, those soft slow kisses that always make me burn. “Want to make love to you, Alan,” he said. “I want you to.” “On the rug in front of the fire.” “Just like a cheap romance novel.” “Only this isn’t a cheap thing.” “I know.” He took my hands and pulled me toward the massive stone fireplace. His dark amber eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He’s always smiling; I love that about him. We undressed each other and stretched out on the thick rug in front of the fireplace. Its deep hunter green made Jake’s pale skin glow. I combed my fingers through his white-blond curls. “Love you, Jake.” “Love you too. Always.” We made love in the flickering orange light while the rising wind howled outside. The heat of the fire pressed like a weight, slicking our skins with sweat. We left winter behind and moved in a summer rhythm, the rhythm of porch swings on August afternoons. He filled me like the ocean, like the forest, like every joy I’d ever known. When he came inside me, Independence Day burst in my heart, fireworks and laughter and warm July breezes. Then his velvet mouth on my cock brought me to sweet blazing bliss, and I cried. We lay silent for a long time afterward. I rested my head on his chest and he stroked my hair. His heartbeat comforted me. While we lay in each other’s arms in the warm golden afterglow, I could forget that in a few days he’d be back in Santa Fe and I’d be back in Atlanta and we’d only share phone calls and web chats until the next time we met. Moments like this helped us both survive the long months apart. “I’ll be in Asheville in March,” he said. Only a three hour drive north of my home. “For how long?” “Five days. There’s a conference. I’d be busy during the day, but we’d have the nights.” “I’ll come.” I didn’t tell him what another mysterious out of town trip could cost me. The frowns, the dirty looks, the how-could-you-be-so-selfish speeches. They wore on me like the millennia wear down the mountains. But I would gladly endure it all for those nights in his arms. He is my sun, and I would cross continents and slay dragons to spend a single moment in his light. “Good.” He lifted my chin and kissed me. He tasted like Irish coffee and semen. “How’s Karen?” “Okay. She had pneumonia again last month, but they got it cleared up. What about Brandon?” He smiled, that special smile he reserves for his child. “He’s good. He’s in sixth grade now, you know. I think he’s gonna make it just fine.” I held his face in my hands and watched him shine for his little boy. “I’m glad, Jake. I really am.” We’d met three years before, in the cafeteria at an Atlanta rehab hospital. His son, my wife, both paralyzed, lives turned inside out in an instant. We’d bonded over wheelchairs and catheters and long days of watching the people we loved suffer. We didn’t realize we’d fallen in love until the night before they left for Santa Fe, where his wife’s family lived. I took him out for a drink to say good-bye, and something changed. We just knew. We went to my apartment and made love for the first time. We made our plans, and the next three years became a cycle of agonizing months apart and a few pure perfect days together whenever we could manage it. Neither of us had ever felt that way for another man before. But what we have goes far beyond sex; it’s a soul connection, an unbreakable bond not between two men, but between two human beings. We can’t leave the people who depend on us, but neither can we live without each other. So we lie, and steal our time together when we can. “Alan?” “Hm?” “Are we wrong to do this? Are we selfish?” “I don’t know. But I can’t do anything else. I need you, Jake.” He caressed my cheek, and his smile was sad. “We need each other.” His gentle hands sang over my skin, his lips started a simmering fire in me. We made love again, and his tears mingled with mine. Afterward we dressed and went outside. The snow had stopped falling, and the world sparkled silver in the moonlight. “Look, Alan,” he said. “A shooting star.” He pointed at the bright streak blazing its brief life across the diamond-sprinkled sky. I leaned my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around me. “Make a wish,” I said. “Make a wish.”