Tom and Luke's Third Year Pt. 01

As he withdrew his rapidly shrinking tool from my anal orifice, I smiled and said to him, "No more problems in keeping it up now? Remember your unsuccessful first time? I felt SO sorry for you. It could just as easily have been I who failed and let you down. But you still managed the most memorable blow-job that I have ever experienced!" I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down on top of me and began to smother him with kisses.

He relaxed and lay soft and delicious in my arms, as he murmured, "I love you so much, Tom!" Within ten minutes, we were both asleep, two knotted condoms lying on the floor beside our bed.

Chapter Six

Christmas at Loxton

When David arrived at Loxton for the festive season from Amsterdam, he surprised all the family by announcing that he was planning a career change. He would continue his usual singing career for six months of the year, from October to March, but the other six months would be devoted mainly to teaching singing, with only the odd one-off performing gig, and his teaching would be based in the Netherlands. His mother was delighted to hear that for the first time for years, David would be resident in her native land. He and Jon already owned a house in the Netherlands, in Heemstede. It was currently let, but the tenancy expired in June, and David had started booking a few lessons already from July, to allow a month to furnish the place.

The full business would not begin until the following July, when Luke would have finished his undergraduate programme, and I would only have a few months to complete to get my M.Chem. This allowed David to fulfil his outstanding summer performance commitments. Evelina, his business manager had fixed the fees that he would charge, based on a model used by Marcello, of 150% above the going rate. There was going to be a fees-remission system for really promising students without much money, but details of that were still being worked out. The other possibility was that he might approach one of the Dutch music colleges/conservatories for a part-time professorship. Jon would join David in the Netherlands from July to September, and Cathy would live there too, unless she wanted to stay in the flat in Camford or with her grandparents. Luke and I would have to spend most of the vacations in the flat, except for July and September, when we might join Luke's parents in Heemstede or stay with David's parents in Loxton. It was probable that if both my lover and I continued with jobs in Camford, we might spend the weekends at Rockwell's Barn, otherwise it might be mothballed, unless David's parents decided to sell up in Loxton and move to Ixton, as Mr Scarborough was due for retirement in two years' time.

Christmas passed in its usual fashion. The weather was mild, and we explored the countryside round David's old home. It was nice to see Luke's grandparents again, and he and I paid a short visit to see my sister and Mr Silverdale, and this year there were no problems with the weather. Mr Silverdale's chemotherapy had been effective and there were hopes that the cancer had been eliminated. It was wonderful to see him looking so much better. He was even considering going back to teaching. However, Luke thought that he would mention Mr Silverdale to Jon, who might well know of a more interesting job for him. We all returned to Ixton on January 6, and a week later the Candlemas term began and Luke flew back to Bologna.

Chapter Seven

An earthquake and a nasty shock

At the end of February, the north of Italy was shaken by an earthquake. It was not a particularly severe one, and I thought nothing of it until I failed to contact Luke on his mobile phone. The message always went to voicemail, and his phone behaved as if it were switched off, which it never was. Then I got a call on my mobile from Jon. "Tom, I've got some bad news. Luke was in a building that collapsed during the earthquake, and he's unconscious in hospital in Bologna with concussion. Can you come with me to see him? I've booked two seats on tomorrow's flight from Bristol to Guglielmo-Marconi."

At once I sent E-mails to the Dean of Buckingham, Alex, Steve, Colin Vaughan and Margaret saying that I had been called away urgently to the bedside of my fiancé, who had been injured in the Italian earthquake, but that I would be back in Camford as soon as possible. I left a note for my bedder to the same effect and then threw some essential items into a bag and rushed off to Fountain Street. We got up early and drove to Bristol Airport the next day. Jon told me that he had telephoned Luke's mother, who didn't know about the accident, because on Luke's unconscious body they had found his passport naming Jon as next of kin with his phone number.

The short journey was hell. I was filled with dread, foreboding, apprehension and misery, and Jon looked just as bad. He said that David was flying to Bologna from Berlin, where he was singing Don Ottavio in 'Don Giovanni,' and would probably get there before us. We managed to get a cab from the airport to the hospital, where Luke lay unconscious.

The outer suburbs of the city, which unlike the historic centre had been severely damaged, were still in a mess, with streets still closed and heaps of rubble everywhere. Dorothea and David were already at Luke's bedside. Apparently there were no other injuries, so far as could be ascertained. The doctors assured us that prolonged unconsciousness was not unusual in cases of concussion. I offered to spend the night at his bedside. The others went off for a meal and then a night's sleep. Fortunately most of the hotels were undamaged and still functioning, as indeed was the hospital. The number of casualties was only in double figures, which was surprising, but the epicentre had been well outside the city. I sat there most of the night in gloom and despair, looking at my lover's wonderful raven-black hair spread out on the pillow, and wondering how we would all cope if he remained indefinitely in a coma. I realized how rarely I had seen him asleep, as he was always awake first. He looked so sweet and peaceful as he lay there, and my heart seemed to be breaking within me.

Luke's unconsciousness lasted for a further three days. We took it in turns to spend the night at his bedside. The intervening period was awful. David was continually on the phone or sending E-mails, cancelling or postponing various gigs. Jon was frantically E-mailing his first-year students, postponing tutorial sessions, Luke's mother was on the phone to her mother-in-law who was looking after Sandro and Bianca. Only I seemed to have nothing to do. I remembered how Luke had prayed regularly every night. I wondered if I should try it. I didn't know any prayers, so I would just have to talk to God (if He existed) in my own words, so I just asked Him to make sure that Luke would recover unharmed from his concussion.

[To be continued.]