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Phone Call Part VTouching.  Rated NC-17 or FSS (Finally Some Sex!).---Keith plays a game, and Carson plays Keith.

The lousy bastard had set the games up so I had to play them in order; couldn't jump ahead to the ones that sounded interesting.  And the first menu item was a card game, which didn't sound all that exciting to me.  Boring as hell, in fact.  Computer solitaire, hooey!

But once I got into it, hell!  No Rider poker deck here; this was a card game of Magic the Gathering , where you pulled up power from the earth, cast spells and controlled critters. I'd played the real card game in between classes with a buddy at UC Berkeley, and sometimes even in allnight, bug-eyed sessions when both of us were too stubborn to quit.  So the kinda complex rules were no problem once I got the hang of doing it on a computer instead.

I mean, sure I was manipulating these oddly decorative cards on the computer screen, dealing and shuffling and laying shit down, but there was enough dramatic music when you laid a card, struck at an enemy or got beaned yourself to make it interesting for me.  And of course the artwork on each and every card was different, in some cases awe- inspiring.  I cranked the sound, hunched over the screen, and got into playing cards. At first.

But gradually something relaxed in my brain as I got more interested in what I was doing.  And things changed before I realized it.

Something took me there, where magic lived.  And it wasn't just a card game anymore.

Hours later, though it might really have been minutes, I shook my drenched hair out of my eyes.  I stood in the middle of a dry plain, but a few mountains still surrounded me.  Unfortunate, for the winged horse that soared towards me with hell-laden eyes.

I pulled crimson flame from the dark, snow-fanged peaks, far more than I needed to strike the last pegasus from the sky.  "Fire-ball!" I cheered myself on exuberantly, knowing I had the bastard by his withered nuts now.

The remaining power flared against the dying beast's controller; I heard him howl in agony even as his servant went down the sky like a dying star.  I'd never really seen the other wizard, though a vision of his appearance flickered in my mind, a man in priestly robes with black intolerant eyes.  He'd been my hardest opponent, though the power of his direct attacks was small. He had patience, though, and a staggering number of small creatures to call upon. Also had a bewildering array of spells to block my direct strikes and destroy the powerful dragons and djinn that served me even as I called them forth.  He had been a major piss-off, and I was damned glad to hear his dying scream in the distance.

I threw back my head, and howled with victory as triumphant music swelled around me, borne on the hot fire-mountain wind.

Runes suddenly filled the air around me, as a soft deep voice caressed my whole body.  "Level One complete.  Ready to learn something new?"
"Carson?" I whispered, startled, and then the landscape melted around me and I would have fallen right against the computer screen if he hadn't leaped up from the couch, caught me from behind.  I was weak and shaking with exhaustion, as if I'd been fighting both mentally and physically for---hours?

It had felt like days.  Three opponents, traveling through arenas of swamp and plain and mountain.  Magic. I hung in his arms and shivered with the force of it.

"Shit," I mumbled as he settled me on the couch.  "This ain't happening.  You're not gonna believe----  Never mind.  I was gonna play for ten minutes, then sneak into the bath and, um.  Never mind.  Jesus Christ, I'm beat!  Hungry, too---"

"You're not supposed to advance so quickly."  His tone was mildly scolding; I was vaguely aware of my head in his lap, his fingers carding lightly through my hair.  "It was my fault, I should have stopped it.  But I was (proud of you, Keith.  Magic becomes you, very much.  You change, when you do it---I was a little afraid of you) fascinated."  (I programmed it well, but wasn't sure if it would work as I meant it to----I had forgotten so much about you----)  "You are hungry?  Magic-work does that, I remember----"

I blinked up into his face.  Part of what he said seemed, well, unsaid.  This was too, too easy.  I felt as if he'd lived here forever, I felt like we were an old married couple, that I'd never been lonely in my life.

It was scary.  And just a tiny bit----cool.  "I'm starved!  But going out, I dunno----"

"No.  You are too tired." His fingers hesitated, then he laughed.  "I thought to cook---"

"You cook too?"

"Not tonight," he observed crisply.  "I made the mistake of looking into your refrigerator.  It contained a portion of banana ice cream, a half-eaten tomato, more beer than is prudent for a single man, a carton of eggs that seemed to lack a certain youth----"

"Oh, crap, the eggs!"  Had I bought them a week or a month ago?  I couldn't quite remember.  "Uh----you didn't finish off the ice cream, right?"

"God, no!"  He seemed truly appalled.  "I had no appetite for it, after breaking one of the eggs.  Never have I seen a green egg before, outside of a children's book.  And I could have lived, without smelling one."  He studied my face, apparently decided I wasn't blushing enough, and said firmly, "There was also a package of coffee and a very cold cell phone on the second shelf."

He waited.  I stammered.  "I----uh!  Well, I don't usually keep it in there, the phone I mean, I threw it in this morning before class.  I knew you were coming.  I mean, I didn't wanna be interrupted, sometimes my boss uses it to ask me to work overtime---"

My explanation dribbled off, because his look had softened.  "You haven't changed, Sensei.  Not really, not where it matters.  Only you would hide your telephone in the icebox to avoid answering it.  And I am---pleased----that you wished no interruptions."

And then he leaned down and kissed me.  Backwards, upsidedown kissing.  Pretty damn interesting.  He was getting damn good.  I didn't fight back so you would notice.  Now I gotta insert here right away that I am very, very into kissing.  Probably more so than most men are willing to admit, the fucking macho liars.   Kissing is not mush; it's the best foreplay ever invented, in my book.

So I kind of melted all over the couch as we nibbled and nuzzled.  Tension flowed out of me as fire flowed into me.  By the time he broke the kiss, other ideas besides eating had at least part of my attention.  I mean, I knew I had to scarf something first but now I just wanted to get it over with.

"I usually just go to Burger King, that's why the frig is, ah, sparse." I mumbled when I could.  "Maybe we could just, like, order a pizza or whatever."  Maybe we can eat it really fast, kiss some more, then go beyond kissing, huh?

"I already ordered something," he said evasively.

"Not pizza?"  Pizza was the only thing I knew of that got delivered, but with his wallet, who knew?  I sat up in sudden alarm, remembering his tastes.  Remembering how I'd told him right out front so long ago that a kid who gobbled his carrots first and then picked at his meat was plain unnatural.  "Christ, Carson, you didn't order me a bunch of veggies!?"

He smiled.  "Dim sum.  And mostly shrimp and pork, carnivorous one.  It is in the kitchen; you do seem to have a microwave."

I bridled.  "Not totally a Neanderthal here!  Jesus.  Dim sum.  Musta cost a fortune.  You wanna stay and feed me forever?"

It was only half a joke.  And only half related to the sudden improvement in my lifestyle.  I think he understood, because I got kissed again.

And I think this time, I either passed out or fell asleep in the middle of it-----I was honestly weak, but had chosen to ignore the fact, shoving it to the side along with my confusion about ongoing events.  I mean, I really didn't wanna figure out what had happened to me when I accessed that computer.  It was too much, too quick.  There was something singing through my blood, and I knew I would never be the same again.  And for just that reason, I had needed all the homey talk about dinner and the more-or-less normal kisses.

But I lost consciousness, in sleep or some other thing.  And I came to in a tub of hot water filled with an elusive scent, like incense turned into bath oil.  I noticed a couple of Chinese food cartons on a small table, and the taste of yummy expensive pork-something-or-other was in my mouth. "Christ, I hope I chewed," I muttered.

"You did."  I focused on him just as he gently brought a sponge mitt down my chest, soaping me up and oh my Gawd.

I've always been a shower guy; yeah I had a tub, but it was just something to stand in while I took my shower, to keep the water from hitting the floor I guess.

He'd filled it.  He'd obviously carried me to it, put me in it.  And now he was calmly
running that mitt straight down my body to----

Shit!  He'd undressed me!

Now that might seem obvious, but for some reason I hadn't tripped on it right away.  When it hit me, I sat up so fast water sloshed all over him.

He tsked impatiently.  "Relax, Keith.  Be still."   His voice softened, as I nervously leaned back again and tried to obey him.  "Let me take care of you, as you did me----"

His hand slipped down, still in the soapy sponge-mitt (something I definitely didn't own, by the way).  Of course I shoulda guessed where he was going with it; reserved he'd been even as a kid, but that's not the same thing as "shy".

"I didn't do such a great job of taking care of you as all that, and I don't recall ever giving you a ba---yike!  Carson, muthafuck, wha' you doin' here----?!?"

"What's it feel like?" He'd placed his other hand on my chest to keep me from exploding upward this time, and his eyes were dancing.

"Oh, Chist.  Oh, Jeez.  Oh momma!"  Babbling like an idiot, yeh that was me, what would you say if you were trapped in a tub being stroked up by your best friend?

One thing I sure wasn't stupid enough to say was "stop."  And it wasn't long at all before I was pushing myself into that squeezing, stroking soapy grip like a madman, letting him take care of everything including keeping me from slipping down into the oversize tub and drowning.

I came so damn hard, friends and neighbors, that for a minute I thought I was gonna levitate right outta the water.  I sure as hell made a respectable splash; Carson rode the wave by leaning in and grabbing a nipping kiss as I gasped and flailed and finally sank like a stone.  He made an indescribable sound into my mouth, then, an animal noise that echoed weirdly in the bath acoustics.   Christ! Not only had he enjoyed the experience just as much as I did, the bastard had actually been, um, frottaging my tub as he worked me.  Weirdo!

I was just as pleased as hell to see, as I weakly pulled myself up, that his change of clothes was now just as soaked with my bath water as his original oufit had been from the rain.

"Well, that was sex, I guess.  Kinda.  Rub-a-dub-dub," I mumbled like a dork.  The triple threat orgasm had completed the job of wiping me right the hell out; my IQ felt lower than room temperature.  I was almost asleep in fact, as he pulled me out, sort of draped me over his shoulder after toweling me dry, and carried me into the bedroom.

I liked the feeling of his laughter as he lugged me.  He'd never been an easy laugher; it had always been my challenge to amuse him.  So I had to make one last crack, before falling comfortably into real, healing sleep this time.

"Thank you kindly, Carse.  Never been so fuckin' clean in my life."

Or so happy, I thought.  In a very goofy, confused way happy, but I was pleased I still recognize the feeling after all these years.

TBC