(c) 2016, Lucian Carter.
Another punch landed hard. He could feel his face swelling, the ache in his ribs, and taste blood from his smashed nose.
There were four of them, dressed in leather and denim. When they had shouted “Fags!” at him and his partner, his partner had snapped back.
“Shut up you pathetic losers!” he’d yelled back.
Before he knew it they were on them, and he had been on his back ever since. He had lost track of how many blows had landed, sinking into a haze of pain and fear.
He had heard that before you die your whole life flashes before your eyes. For him, it was his sex life.
14 … Trying and failing to jack off to straight porn.
15 … Seeing Rambo for the first time and falling in lust, with Sylvester Stallone.
16 … Receiving his first blow job, from the captain of the basketball team.
17 … Another blow job, this time receiving and giving, with a guy he met at a convention.
18 … Anal sex, pitching and catching, with a guy he met at the convenience store.
19-27 … The club days. The bathhouse days. The fun days.
28 … Mark. Mark, the love of his life. Mark, the man he knew he would spend forever with. Mark the prankster. Mark the expert lover. Mark the loudmouth.
He came to on a stretcher. His eyes focused on two of the gay bashers, now in handcuffs, being shoved into the back of a police cruiser.
He looked around and saw him on another stretcher. His face was a bloody mess, front teeth missing. He still managed to speak.
“Like I said pathetic losers.”
He managed to speak as well, despite the pain it caused.
“I love you Jason,” he lied.
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Lucian Carter is a short fiction writer with works spanning comedy, supernatural and adult. Find him on Twitter @Luciancarter
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