To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent: Monday, 7:30pm
Place:  Phoenix, Arizona

Hey Tom,

> The time zones are somewhat confusing - it's getting pretty late
> here. How's the climate change?

Hot.  Sticky.  All together yucky.  But at least there is air conditioning.
:-)

> > I'm glad Dave called you, and I hope the e-mail from Tam is
> > something you want to read--I know you said he'd been drinking, and it's totally
> > possible he woke up to himself yesterday and feels badly.
>
> That's pretty much the measure of it. He apologised - pretty much in full.
> Weirdly enough he thanked me for leaving 'before I could make any
> more of a total tit of myself' - his words.  There's not a whole lot of
> point holding a grudge - just - well - forgiven but I don’t know if I can forget.

I don't think anyone expects you to forget it.  And if they do?  Then
they've never had to deal with the shit we do, just for being us.

Glad he knows he was wrong though, and even more pleased that he made the
effort to say so--lots of people wouldn't have.

> > Excellent, I *really* hope you can work something out.  Being
> > without easy transport and stress relief sucks.
>
> At the moment he's offering to send me enough to get a second hand
> rattlebag - it'll get me to campus and back, at least.  I think
> the price of a good mountain bike boggled him a bit.  Well - in theory I'm
> not so far away from a real pay packet, and it's rather less likely to get ripped off
> again.

God, I hope that's true.  The not getting ripped off again part--I know
you're going to get a great job son, Tom.  Concentrate on finishing school,
yeah?  The job--well, there's always good companies looking for smart
people.  I know you'll be fine.

Good for your dad, helping out.

> > > Somehow or other, though, you seem to have me convinced that
> > > I can vent in your direction anytime. Believe me : that helped. Helps.
> >
> > Good.  It's true--feel free.
>
> You know that goes both ways, right?

Yeah.  I do.  :-)

> > The plane didn't help much, but I managed to stretch it out and spend
> > sometime doing the stairs last night.  Seems okay today.
>
> Glad it’s on the mend. Doing the stairs?

Wonderful thing about hotels is that they have elevators.  While everyone
else is going up and down in the shiny (Oh look!  Shiny!) boxes, I'm taking
the stairs.  When I get a muscle that needs working out I tend to just wait
until it feels ready and do a few extra flights--up ten, down ten, up nine,
down nine, etc.  Boring as fuck, but not a bad lower body workout.

> > > > No story, just suck at cards.  :P  I take chances when I shouldn't,
> > > > push too hard, hoping to wing by on a bluff.  I should definitely not
> > > > gamble.  ;-)
> > >
> > > Sounds like I should learn, just in case we ever end up playing
> > > for bets ;)
> >
> > And depending on what the bet is, I may play worse.  :P
>
> I'm pretty impressed neither of us has mentioned strip poker yet ..
>
> oops.

Heh.  You broke.  :P  Take off a shoe for me.  ;-)

> >God, I am so not ever cooking for you.
>
> *pout*

That?  Is a deadly weapon.  Use it wisely.

> > Except maybe that breakfast stuff I can do.
>
> You’re morally obliged to make me home chips, you know. Help me with my
> studies in American life ..

*grin*  Yeah, okay.  I can do that.  Hold the cheese though.

> > Er... we can eat breakfast anytime, right?  Doesn't have to be in the
> > morning--can be late at night or in the afternoon, and I'm babbling so
> > I'll stop now.
>
> You sound - caffinated :) Breakfast food is good anytime. And who has time
> to cook that stuff for actual breakfast anyway?

True.  When I cook breakfast it usually winds up as brunch.

> > Nerves.
>
> Still just me.
>
> Unless you invited the Evil Overlord Assessment Tribunal or something.

Nah, they're not invited to person business e-mail.

> > > What's this uniform like, anyway?
> >
> > Mmmmmmm.  Tight t-shirt, black trousers, (part of me is screaming to say
> > leather) long duster....Christ, I just described Spike from Buffy the
> > Vampire Slayer.
>
> That’s not necessarily a bad thing ;) - Except the part where he looks
> better in it than me.
>
> [wow but that was vain and arrogant all in one - double points!]

He's hot, yeah.  You're hotter.  Get me hotter, anyway.

> > Adorable. Will see if I can find one to send.  Yeesh.
>
> Score. I thank you ;)

Does 'score' mean the same thing in the Queen's English as it does here?
*innocent whistle*

> > > depends on the uniform though. ;p
> >
> > *leather leather leather*  I'll get back to you when I get my brain unstuck.
>
> I only said no to leather *straps* - that's rule #3 or something. Although
> now that I go check, it actually says 'Similarly, outfits made entirely
> from black leather will be reserved for formal occasions.' so - there's some
> leeway for your design team.

I'll let them know.  When I get my brain unstuck again, and restore proper
blood flow.

> > True.  That would be much worse than constantly being apart and getting
> > attached to a man you'd get to see about five times a year.
>
> When you put it that way ... the ants are still worse. Not having
> anyone to be apart from might be worse?

I think you may be right.

Yeah.  You are.

> > The distance thing is real.
>
> Granted. It’s the immovable object, really.

Which sucks.  But....as bad a card player as I am, sometimes you still have
to play then the way they're dealt.

> > The trust thing--I don't know.  I don't have any claim on you, can't tell you
> > not to see anyone, don't expect you to say no if a guy you like starts being
> > more to you.  At this point that just doesn't apply.
>
> Ok - at this point. But - if it did? If things developed in a [I
> don't quite believe I'm typing this] couple kind of direction - do you think
> it would be an issue?

No.  I trust you, Tom.

This is one of those times that I wish I could see you, let you see my eyes.
Let you see sincerity and--I admit--a bit of nerves.  Starting
something.....it's exciting and scary, and intense.

But I trust you, Tom.

> > But I can tell you that I trust you as a good person.  That
> > I feel like I can tell you anything, that I trust you not to hurt me by
> > lying to me.
>
> Thank you. I mean that. And - likewise. God - you think I tell every Tom,
> Dick and Harry the sort of thing I've been telling you?

No, I guess not.  Point taken, and thank you.

> > About what you're doing after June...that's up to you, Tom.  I
> > want you to do whatever it is that will fulfil you the most.
>
> Well - right now I'm more worried about 'am I going to end up homeless, or
> living back with my parents and working in McDonalds' than 'is this the
> perfect career' but - it's a stress point - I don't *know* where
> I'll be, or what I'll be doing, or *anything* past a point about 8 weeks away, and
> that's scarier than I'm entirely comfortable saying, and makes trying to
> think about anything in the future tense - stressful.  Plus - exams, and
> dissertation, and the whole total lack of spare time between here and there.
> Complicates things.

Yeah, it does.  And I don't know what to say to make it easier.  Wish I did.

>  > And this is no joke.  Forget that right now.
>
> I think maybe part of me is going to keep expecting Jeremy Beadle to jump
> out at me right up until I actually see you again. Things - people - this
> good don't happen to me, you know?

Does now.

God, I'm beginning to sound right around the bend, aren't I?

> > But the best I can offer you is e-mail, as many trips to London as I can
> > trade for, and the vague hope that someday maybe we can find work in the
> > same city.
>
> Someday sounds like long term thinking.  I guess I should just know, but -
> I'm going to spell it out, because its not something I want to guess. If
> things go the way you hope - you thinking of a regular casual thing? or
> something more - committed? Am I just imagining the long-term-ness of that
> sentence?

I don't do casual.  No lover in every port, no flings.  That could be more
intense than you're wanting, and I get that.  I do.

But I guess I am thinking--hoping--that if we keep going like this, keep
talking, keep getting to know each other....yeah, I suppose I am thinking
long term and commitment.

Which is scary as fuck and I totally understand if that freaks you out and
you want to slow the hell down.

> I know - I know I'm pushing, and it probably seems like I'm asking for the
> crystal ball, just - don't want to get my hopes too out of line - that way
> lies disappointment and ick - or pressure and ick - or just *ick*.

If I'm pressuring, tell me.  If I want too much, ask for too much, just say.
Really.  The only way that anything--friendship, anything more--is going to
work for us is if we're honest about what we think and feel at any given
time.  You're under a *lot* of pressure right now, and it's not the best
time for you to be making big choices.  Plus, we've had one twenty minute
meeting face to face and a couple weeks of e-mail.  It can be intense and a
lot to think about.

> > Hope your day is going okay.
>
> It's going. Having trouble with the current chapter, but - I'll
> get there. I managed to loose the front piece of a couple of key articles and wasted
> about an hour and a half tracking down the citation details. By probably
> publication and then by type face, if you can believe it.

Eek.  Hope things go better tomorrow.

> I'm going to copy the other mail over here to reply in one - figure you'll
> be in work a while yet. What are you doing in Arizona in a hurry anyway?

Oh man.  What a fuck up.  They're having one of the regional
conferences--just KI teams exchanging a bunch of new information coming out
of the relief sites in a few places all at once.  Someone somewhere decided
that they needed a liaison fieldworker to do a presentation on the team set
up in one of the smaller towns in Africa--not that we're in any of the
larger towns, but I digress.  So a record search pulled my name and they
flew me out, pronto, to talk about how I set up the recruiting and training
for the teams there.

Except I don't.

They got my name off the team co-ordination papers for a group I've never
worked with.  And of course they didn't tell me anything about anything
until I got here, so I've been trying to track back through the system how
my name got on the records, and do my regular work long distance.

Fun for all!

> >That?  Is healing.  Good for you.  :-)  Really.  That's wonderful, Tom.
> >Hurty and yucky to go through, but healthy.
>
> Thank you life-coach ;) - it's still kind of baby steps, but - yeah. Don't
> need his shadow hanging over whatever's to come.

Got a little preachy, did I, Grasshopper?  :P

And yeah.  Letting go is hard, but it has to be done.  So there's only two
people in a relationship, instead of four.  (Er...unless four people decide
to get together, but that's not my thing.  Just saying.)

> > > - want you - want your hands on me, want to taste your skin and find
> > > out how your voice feels.
>
> >Oh God.  I'm...at a big table with a lot of people around and you've just
> >gotten my attention.  (Not complaining.)
>
> Oh good ;) - for the record, your evil lordship - I have no choice but to
> read anything you send me in a computer lab, which almost always means no
> privacy. Think of this as payback in advance.

Damn, and I'm on the wrong e-mail account to really get you going. Can't
talk about showers, or blow jobs, or pressing up against your back so you
can feel how hard you make me, or any of that good stuff.

> > > After that email? It was.
> >
> > Oh good.  :-)  Feel free, any time.
>
> You want details? You want to know that I printed out your email, which as
> it turned out was pretty pointless, seeing as I think I must have had it
> memorised, and that I didn't do much past getting in the front
> door before I was in my room, reading it over again? That thinking about
> it - about you, and about what you were imagining had me hard?

Stop that.  No, don't.  :P

> >I'm gorgeous and fascinating?
>
> Looks like it from here ;)

Wow.  That still makes me shiver.

> > I got here fine, and yeah--short notice happens sometimes.  Not that
> > often, but it does.  At least I get to take the computer.  (Forgot both my Palm
> > and the cell this time. )
>
> Don’t you have an admin to chase you up on that sort of thing? And don't
> your office get miffed if they can't get hold of you?  [this would be me
> being nosy about you and your every day life - what your office is like -
> hell what your flat is like - all that sort of thing]

Oh yeah, Janet's unhappy.  I have e-mail pinging all over the place, and
they had to find me a cell to use.  Serves her right for not making sure
they needed *me* here.  :P

> Although - I'm getting tired, and I think I need to eat something that
> didn't come out of a vending machine, so, I'll head for home I
> think - look forward to an email in my morning?

Here!

> At least it's stopped raining.

That's good, at least.

> Hey - Oliver? Hope this hotel's better than the last one, and if you feel
> the need, you could always ring me? [do expenses cover international phone
> calls?] I'm the only one home and - I'm a student, I can sleep in
> tomorrow. Just - if you need it, yeah? the number's on my CV, but 020 7668 2743

Thank you.  Really.  I'm going to head for the tiny room they call a gym
here--no steam room, thank God--and see what's going on for the evening.
They've actually (for about the fourth time ever) got me *sharing a room*.
You know what that means--I have to run to the shower first thing in the
morning.  :P  Don't think I could call and talk to you with Mr.  I Goofed
and You're Here For No Good Reason lounging in the other bed.

When I talk to you I think I want to be alone.

> That's probably really pushy and forward of me but - not going to
> delete it. Not going to expect a call though - just want to think that you
> could if you needed to, and hope that nothing happens that you do ... that
> make sense?

It does, and it means a lot to me.

Same goes, call collect.  Home is 617-555-3597, work is 617-555-8425.  Have
voice mail on both, if I don't pick up.  Do you have an answering machine?
And when are your roommates coming back?

Sleep well, Tom.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Oliver



To : Oliver Kurland
From : Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Tuesday, 9:32am

Gooood morning.

Just before I say anything else - notice the time stamp. And that's *after*
I walked 40 minutes to get here. However my dad *was* ringing to tell me
he'd paid a check into my account, so I'm actually *not* complaining. I
picked up Loot on the way in, and I'll call around this evening, see what
manner of bike I can track down. Rackety I can deal with, but a racer type?
Eep. I figure if I write a check his will clear ... Might need you to wish
me luck again.

> >  How's the climate change?
>
> Hot.  Sticky.  All together yucky.  But at least there is air conditioning.
> :-)

Oh yeah - Albuquerque would not have been an option without it.

> Glad he knows he was wrong though, and even more pleased that he made the
> effort to say so--lots of people wouldn't have.

Yeah - I know. He’s good people, really. I think that's why it was such a
shock to the system. Chalk it up to the demon drink ...

> God, I hope that's true.  The not getting ripped off again part

Likewise ;)

> -I know you're going to get a great job son, Tom.

son? ok - now that's weird ;p

[I can tease you on your typo's right? - gooood]

> Concentrate on finishing school, yeah?  The job--well, there's always
> good companies looking for smart people.  I know you'll be fine.

Yep - if I hear back from people I've already contacted, great, if not -
I'll worry about that after finals.  In theory that means I'm not worrying
about that now. In theory.

> Good for your dad, helping out.

My parents aren’t so bad - especially at a safe distance and without Seth
insisting that really, I flogged my bike to pay my dealer, which is what he
said to me last night - told him that no, that's what I pay my pimp for.
There was this moment of stunned silence, and then he cracked up. Fingers
crossed he's got the point. Seeing as Mum hasn't phoned demanding the keys
to my chastity belt, we'll assume so.

> Wonderful thing about hotels is that they have elevators.  While everyone
> else is going up and down in the shiny (Oh look!  Shiny!) boxes, I'm taking
> the stairs.  When I get a muscle that needs working out I tend to just wait
> until it feels ready and do a few extra flights--up ten, down ten, up nine,
> down nine, etc.  Boring as fuck, but not a bad lower body workout.

Fair enough - this hotel thing really isn't as glamorous as it sounds, is
it?

> > I'm pretty impressed neither of us has mentioned strip poker yet ..
> >
> > oops.
>
> Heh.  You broke.  :P  Take off a shoe for me.  ;-)

Left or right?

> > >God, I am so not ever cooking for you.
> >
> > *pout*
>
> That?  Is a deadly weapon.  Use it wisely.

Yes, Oliver-san. ;P

> > > Except maybe that breakfast stuff I can do.
> >
> > You’re morally obliged to make me home chips, you know. Help me with my
> > studies in American life ..
>
> *grin*  Yeah, okay.  I can do that.  Hold the cheese though.

Sounds good.

> > > Nerves.
> >
> > Still just me.
> >
> > Unless you invited the Evil Overlord Assessment Tribunal or something.
>
> Nah, they're not invited to person business e-mail.

That’s reassuring.

What *do* they audit?

> > > > What's this uniform like, anyway?
> > >
> > > Mmmmmmm.  Tight t-shirt, black trousers, (part of me is screaming to say
> > > leather) long duster....Christ, I just described Spike from Buffy the
> > > Vampire Slayer.
> >
> > That’s not necessarily a bad thing ;) - Except the part where he looks
> > better in it than me.
>
> He's hot, yeah.  You're hotter.  Get me hotter, anyway.

You, sir, flatter me. And I like that.

> Does 'score' mean the same thing in the Queen's English as it does here?
> *innocent whistle*

That would depend on what it means in Colonial.

> > > > Depends on the uniform, though.. ;P
> > >
> > > *leather leather leather*  I'll get back to you when I get my brain unstuck.
> >
> > I only said no to leather *straps* - that's rule #3 or something.  Although
> > now that I go check, it actually says 'Similarly, outfits made entirely
> > from black leather will be reserved for formal occasions.' so - there's some
> > leeway for your design team.
>
> I'll let them know.  When I get my brain unstuck again, and restore proper
> blood flow.

Oh. ;D

> > > True.  That would be much worse than constantly being apart and getting
> > > attached to a man you'd get to see about five times a year.
> >
> > When you put it that way ... the ants are still worse. Not having
> > anyone to be apart from might be worse?
>
> I think you may be right.
>
> Yeah.  You are.

I thought so.

> > > The distance thing is real.
> >
> > Granted. It’s the immovable object, really.
>
> Which sucks.  But....as bad a card player as I am, sometimes you still have
> to play then the way they're dealt.

Yup.

> No.  I trust you, Tom.
>
> This is one of those times that I wish I could see you, let you see my eyes.
> Let you see sincerity and--I admit--a bit of nerves.  Starting
> something.....it's exciting and scary, and intense.
>
> But I trust you, Tom.

Wish I could too, plus - I'd like to think I deserve it. Certainly not
planning on betraying it. I mean - whatever happens - that's just not cool.
Not to anyone.

> > > About what you're doing after June...that's up to you, Tom.  I
> > > want you to do whatever it is that will fulfil you the most.
> >
> > well - right now I'm more worried about 'am I going to end up homeless, or
> > living back with my parents and working in McDonalds' than 'is this the
> > perfect career' but - it's a stress point - I don't *know* where
> > I'll be, or what I'll be doing, or *anything* past a point about 8 weeks away, and
> > that's scarier than I'm entirely comfortable saying, and makes trying to
> > think about anything in the future tense - stressful.  Plus - exams, and
> > dissertation, and the whole total lack of spare time between here
> > and there. Complicates things.
>
> Yeah, it does.  And I don't know what to say to make it easier.  Wish I did.

It does have the advantage that it'll go away fairly quickly - like in about
8 weeks. At which point *something* will happen and I'll deal with that.

> >  > And this is no joke.  Forget that right now.
> >
> > I think maybe part of me is going to keep expecting Jeremy Beadle to jump
> > out at me right up until I actually see you again. Things - people - this
> > good don't happen to me, you know?
>
> Does now.

Hope so.

> God, I'm beginning to sound right around the bend, aren't I?

Um - no?

> I don't do casual.  No lover in every port, no flings.  That could be more
> intense than you're wanting, and I get that.  I do.
>
> But I guess I am thinking--hoping--that if we keep going like this, keep
> talking, keep getting to know each other....yeah, I suppose I am thinking
> long term and commitment.
>
> Which is scary as fuck and I totally understand if that freaks you out and
> you want to slow the hell down.

Oliver? I can't make promises - I mean - not yet, not right now - and
obviously, we have to see how things go - but - I'm not running for the hills
either, ok?

For what it's worth - in my ideal world - not a whole lot of casual - I like
to know where I am, where I belong.

> > I know - I know I'm pushing, and it probably seems like I'm asking for the
> > crystal ball, just - don't want to get my hopes too out of line – that way
> > lies disappointment and ick - or pressure and ick - or just *ick*.
>
> If I'm pressuring, tell me.  If I want too much, ask for too much, just say.
> Really.  The only way that anything--friendship, anything more--is going to
> work for us is if we're honest about what we think and feel at any given
> time.  You're under a *lot* of pressure right now, and it's not the best
> time for you to be making big choices.

That's pretty much why I don't want to make you promises right now this
second - it's - it's too much. Which isn't to say I don't want to - I'm just
trying to keep my head screwed on. And - you're not pressuring. Hell -
you've shown more concern for how what you do and say makes me feel in the
past couple of weeks than Kay did, um, ever.  OK - so maybe that's not
entirely true, but week for week? You’re way ahead.

> Plus, we've had one twenty minute meeting face to face and a
> couple weeks of e-mail.  It can be intense and a lot to think about.

That is so weird - thinking of it like that. I mean it's true - it just
feels like a lot more, a lot longer.

> > I'm going to copy the other mail over here to reply in one – figure you'll
> > be in work a while yet. What are you doing in Arizona in a hurry anyway?
>
> Oh man.  What a fuck up.  They're having one of the regional
> conferences--just KI teams exchanging a bunch of new information coming out
> of the relief sites in a few places all at once.  Someone somewhere decided
> that they needed a liaison fieldworker to do a presentation on the team set
> up in one of the smaller towns in Africa--not that we're in any of the
> larger towns, but I digress.  So a record search pulled my name and they
> flew me out, pronto, to talk about how I set up the recruiting and training
> for the teams there.
>
> Except I don't.

Jeeze - for real? That's a pretty spectacular fuck up! Hey - at least it wasn't Ibitha.

> Fun for all!

Sounds like it ;)

When do you get to go home?

> > Thank you life-coach ;) - It's still kind of baby steps, but - yeah. Don't
> > need his shadow hanging over whatever's to come.
>
> Got a little preachy, did I, Grasshopper?  :P

Maybe just a leeetle, Oliver-san.

> And yeah.  Letting go is hard, but it has to be done.  So there's only two
> people in a relationship, instead of four.  (Er...unless four people decide
> to get together, but that's not my thing.  Just saying.)

*blinks* - Ok so that hadn’t actually crossed my mind. But to return to the
metaphorical - yes, exactly.

> Damn, and I'm on the wrong e-mail account to really get you going. Can't
> talk about showers, or blow jobs, or pressing up against your back so you
> can feel how hard you make me, or any of that good stuff.

*meep* - Um - you can’t? Not to dissuade you if you want to, of course, but
I'm *always* going to be using the computer labs ... you have time yet.

> > You want details? You want to know that I printed out your email, which as
> > it turned out was pretty pointless, seeing as I think I must have had it
> > memorised, and that I didn't do much past getting in the front
> > door before I was in my room, reading it over again? That thinking about
> > it - about you, and about what you were imagining had me hard?
>
> Stop that.  No, don't.  :P

Possibly this is a silly question, but - you actually want details?

> > >I'm gorgeous and fascinating?
> >
> > Looks like it from here ;)
>
> Wow.  That still makes me shiver.

Still looks to be true, too.

> > Don’t you have an admin to chase you up on that sort of thing? And don't
> > your office get miffed if they can't get hold of you?  [this would be me
> > being nosy about you and your every day life - what your office is like -
> > hell what your flat is like - all that sort of thing]
>
> Oh yeah, Janet's unhappy.  I have e-mail pinging all over the place, and
> they had to find me a cell to use.  Serves her right for not making sure
> they needed *me* here.  :P

Well - yeah. Someone somewhere really needed to check that ...

> >  - look forward to an email in my morning?
>
> Here!

And it is much appreciated. 7.25 he rang!

> > Hey - Oliver? Hope this hotel's better than the last one, and if you
> > feel the need, you could always ring me? [do expenses cover international
> > phone calls?] I'm the only one home and - I'm a student, I can sleep in
> > tomorrow. Just - if you need it, yeah? the number's on my CV, but 020 7668 2743
>
> Thank you.  Really.  I'm going to head for the tiny room they call a gym
> here--no steam room, thank God--and see what's going on for the evening.
> They've actually (for about the fourth time ever) got me *sharing a room*.
> You know what that means--I have to run to the shower first thing in the
> morning.  :P  Don't think I could call and talk to you with Mr.  I Goofed
> and You're Here For No Good Reason lounging in the other bed.

Sharing? Oh man - this is not your best ever trip, is it?

> When I talk to you I think I want to be alone.

*shivers*  Yes. Please.

> > That's probably really pushy and forward of me but - not going to
> > delete it. Not going to expect a call though - just want to think that you
> > could if you needed to, and hope that nothing happens that you do ... that
> > make sense?
>
> It does, and it means a lot to me.

Good. ;)  Glad you didn't need to.

> Same goes, call collect.  Home is 617-555-3597, work is 617-555-8425. Have
> voice mail on both, if I don't pick up.

Um - wow - thanks ;) - I actually have no idea *how* to call collect, but
I'll find out, and then try not to have reason to ring you without setting
something up first. But - thank you.

> Do you have an answering machine?
> And when are your roommates coming back?

Yes, although it's in the living room, so it's not private, and they'll
probably be back sometime over the weekend.  I do have a phone in my room
though.

> Sleep well, Tom.

Did, thanks partly to you. *ahem*  Hope you had a good night, and Mr
Obnoxious doesn't snore.

Ok - time to get back to the complexities of family network patterns across
time and distance - this is the statistics chapter so I'll be looking
hopefully for distraction at regular intervals ;)

Hopefully,

Tom
*********
Remember : You are not a salmon.



To:  Thomas Moorfield
From:  Oliver Kurland [rkurls @ pdc.com]
Sent: Tuesday, 08:23am
Place: Phoenix, Arizona

Cut and paste into the other account.  'Cause you asked for distraction.  :-)

But first.......

Man, what a night!  And I mean that in the 'weird and rather uncomfortable'
sense.

After I sent the last e-mail to you the guy I'm sharing with came back from
his last meeting and we decided to go to the gym.  Now, remember, I've never
met this guy before--he's out of the head office in New York, started there
after I left.  His name is Todd, btw.  Anyway, Todd and I go down to the
'gym' --two Stairmasters, a treadmill and three stationary bikes, some free
weights and a leg machine--and find one of the guys I *do* know, Victor,
already there (Victor is also out of NY, but I knew him when I worked
there.)

So the three of us start working out, and I managed to convince them I'd
done enough real stairs that I should get the treadmill, and everything is
fine.  Talking shop, Todd's still apologizing for getting me there,
everything is nice and friendly.

Then Victor asks how Peter is, and I say "I don't know, haven't really seen
much of him for the past year or so."  He just nods and says, "Sorry to hear
that," and moves on.  Very well handled, I thought.

We work out, talk shop some more, and I head back to the room to shower.
When I get out Todd's back watching TV and waiting his turn. He sort of gave
me a weird look, kind of assessing and nervous then headed into the
bathroom.  I checked my e-mail, answered one from Janet, and was just
shutting off the computer when he came out.  I asked if he wanted to watch
TV for a bit, 'cause it was still too early to go to sleep, and he
practically ran to the other side of the room and nodded.

So I think this is just...odd.  Turn on the TV, find some movie I've never
seen and flake out on the bed.  Can't keep my eyes on the TV because he's
staring at me, and every time I look over he flushes and looks at the screen,
but looks back at me again and again.

Right.  "Anything wrong?" I ask.

"No!"  Except there is, and he's still staring at me like he doesn't know
what to do or say.

But I don't want to get into it, so I let it slide.  Finally, he says,
"Victor told me that you...you're--"

And I don't want to play nice, for some reason, which was just me being an
utter jerk, 'cause he hasn't said anything, really, that should get me
upset.  Just get annoyed sometimes that people think it's any of their
business.

"So, are you?" he finally says.

"Am I what?  Tall?  Sort of, but you can see that--just about six feet.
Fit?  Hell yeah, but I work at it.  Tired?  Yep.  Oh, you mean the guy
thing.  Yeah, not one for the ladies."

He sort of withers, and says, "Oh," in a really quiet voice, and I feel like
shit.  Wasn't any need for me to be so pissy.  So I say so, tell him I'm
sorry, that yeah, I'm gay, and no I don't want his ass, so just relax.  (And
I so don't want him.  He looks sort of like a middle aged pug dog.)  He nods
and watches the TV for a bit, and I can sort of tell he's not done yet.  I
don't know where this is going and honestly?  Don't want to.  So I grab the
lap top and start doing some number crunching, nothing I really have to
think about just enough to look busy.

"So the Peter that Victor asked about, he was your..." Cue him stumbling
over the word 'boyfriend'.

"Yeah, he was my partner. Victor met him a couple of times before we moved
to Boston," I say, not looking up.  "We split up."

"Oh.  And now...."

Now I do look up, 'cause this conversation is just too weird.  "Now I've got
someone else to think about," I say evenly.

He looks terrified all of a sudden, and I clue in.  He's one of those 'all
gay guys want all guys' types.  Lovely.

I shut off the computer and stand up, looking right at him.  "Look, you're
safe.  Was talking about a guy in England, and honestly?  You're not my
type."

He looks away and turns off the TV, and I figure that's the end of it. We
get ready for bed, taking turns in the bathroom again to brush our teeth and
that stuff, then turn out the lights and get into our beds.

Out of the dark I hear, "What's it like?"

Oh, man.

I roll over and turn on the light again. "Umm, let me get this right.
You're asking me what sex with a guy is like?"

He's facing the other way, won't look at me.  "Yeah, I guess I am.  I mean,
you seem nice enough, and I thought maybe you'd just tell me and I can stop
thinking about it."

Choices.  Do I tell this guy the nice romantic version about what it feels
like to hold a strong body, to feel hardness against you?  Or do the quick
and dirty version?

"Look, are you asking 'cause it's something that freaks you out, or are you
having some sort of sexual identity crisis?  If you're trying to figure out
if you're into guys--"

"No, I don't think I am," he says seriously, and now he rolls over to look
at me.  And I honestly think he's right.  He's not interested in guys, just
looking for information, looking to satisfy a curiosity.

So I sigh and raise an eyebrow at him.  "You want me to tell you what it's
like to suck cock?  What it feels like to lick someone's balls and taste his
come?  How hot it is to be on your knees for someone?  Or do you want me to
tell you about fucking?  What it's like to slide into the hottest tightest
place you've ever been, or feel a guy ramming into your ass?"

That does it.  Light goes off and he's rolled over ignoring me again.  And
I'm left staring at the ceiling thinking about sex.  Again.

God, I can't wait to go home.

> Gooood morning.
>
> Just before I say anything else - notice the time stamp.

LOL!  I wondered if that was some funky computer glitch. Good for you, up at
a reasonable hour.  :P  And yet again, I'm sending a reply in the twilight
zone of time changes.

> I picked up Loot on the way in, and I'll call around this evening, see what
> manner of bike I can track down. Rackety I can deal with, but a
> racer type?
> Eep. I figure if I write a check his will clear ... Might need you to wish
> me luck again.

Good luck.  Hope it takes this time.  :-)

> > -I know you're going to get a great job son, Tom.
>
> son? ok - now that's weird ;p
>
> [I can tease you on your typo's right? - gooood]

Twerp.  :P

> > Good for your dad, helping out.
>
> My parents aren’t so bad - especially at a safe distance and without Seth
> insisting that really, I flogged my bike to pay my dealer, which
> is what he said to me last night - told him that no, that's what I pay my pimp for.
> There was this moment of stunned silence, and then he cracked up. Fingers
> crossed he's got the point. Seeing as Mum hasn't phoned demanding the keys
> to my chastity belt, we'll assume so.

1) Maybe you stunned Seth into some sense, which would be cool.  :-)  2) Um,
no sending the keys to your mother.  I want 'em.  ;-)

> > Wonderful thing about hotels is that they have elevators.
> > While everyone else is going up and down in the shiny (Oh look!  Shiny!)
> > boxes, I'm taking the stairs.  When I get a muscle that needs working out I tend to
> > just wait until it feels ready and do a few extra flights--up ten, down ten,
> > up nine, down nine, etc.  Boring as fuck, but not a bad lower body workout.
>
> Fair enough - this hotel thing really isn't as glamorous as it sounds, is it?

Nope.  Actually, some aren't bad, and I do like the work, but it would be
perfect if I could get to my own bed every night.  Mostly, I get tired of
the food--hotel meals always taste the same.

> > > I'm pretty impressed neither of us has mentioned strip poker yet ..
> > >
> > > oops.
> >
> > Heh.  You broke.  :P  Take off a shoe for me.  ;-)
>
> Left or right?

Left, please.  :-)

> > > Unless you invited the Evil Overlord Assessment Tribunal or something.
> >
> > Nah, they're not invited to person business e-mail.
>
> That’s reassuring.
>
> What *do* they audit?

Er...they keep track of how many people I bring to the dark side.  And
uniform production.

> > He's hot, yeah.  You're hotter.  Get me hotter, anyway.
>
> You, sir, flatter me. And I like that.

Heh.  I’ll keep doing it then.

> > Does 'score' mean the same thing in the Queen's English as it does here?
> > *innocent whistle*
>
> That would depend on what it means in Colonial.

score, to:  (verb) ....half a page of definition skipped...7. intr. sl.  a.
obtain drugs illegally.  b. (of a man) make a sexual conquest.

Er, got that out of the Concise OED, so I'm thinking that might apply to you
too.  And now I've forgotten what my point was.

> > I don't do casual.  No lover in every port, no flings.  That
> > could be more intense than you're wanting, and I get that.  I do.
> >
> > But I guess I am thinking--hoping--that if we keep going like this, keep
> > talking, keep getting to know each other....yeah, I suppose I
> > am thinking long term and commitment.
> >
> > Which is scary as fuck and I totally understand if that freaks
> > you out and you want to slow the hell down.
>
> Oliver? I can't make promises - I mean - not yet, not right now - and
> obviously, we have to see how things go - but - I'm not running
> for the hills either, ok?

Great.  :-)

> For what it's worth - in my ideal world - not a whole lot of
> casual - I like to know where I am, where I belong.

I get that.  And me too.

> > If I'm pressuring, tell me.  If I want too much, ask for too much, just
> > say. Really.  The only way that anything--friendship, anything more—is going
> > to work for us is if we're honest about what we think and feel at any given
> > time.  You're under a *lot* of pressure right now, and it's not the best
> > time for you to be making big choices.
>
> That's pretty much why I don't want to make you promises right now this
> second - it's - it's too much. Which isn't to say I don't want to
> - I'm just trying to keep my head screwed on. And - you're not pressuring. Hell -
> you've shown more concern for how what you do and say makes me feel in the
> past couple of weeks than Kay did, um, ever.  OK - so maybe that's not
> entirely true, but week for week? You’re way ahead.

So.  We keep going, see what happens, yeah?  You need me to slow down, tell
me.  I trust you to know, and for both our sakes I'm going to let that go
now.  We both know that this can be weird, so I'll just let you tell me if
you need something.

> > Plus, we've had one twenty minute
> > meeting face to face and a couple weeks of e-mail.  It can be
> > intense and a lot to think about.
>
> That is so weird - thinking of it like that. I mean it's true - it just
> feels like a lot more, a lot longer.

Yeah, it does.  :-)

***Stuff about why I'm here deleted to keep this from being the largest
e-mail in recorded history***

> When do you get to go home?

Tonight, after supper--fly out at 8:06, it'll be...God, close to midnight or
later when I get home.  Yuck.  Think I'll take tomorrow morning off, work
later in the evening.

> > Damn, and I'm on the wrong e-mail account to really get you going. Can't
> > talk about showers, or blow jobs, or pressing up against your
> > back so you can feel how hard you make me, or any of that good stuff.
>
> *meep* - Um - you can’t? Not to dissuade you if you want to, of course, but
> I'm *always* going to be using the computer labs ... you have time yet.

You want to hear about that, Tom?  Want to know that I'm sitting at a
borrowed desk getting hard just thinking about kissing you?  Tasting you,
feeling your mouth, holding you against me.  Want to map your skin with my
fingers, feel you rub up against me.  Wonder how you'll sound when I take
your prick in my mouth and suck on you.  How you'll taste, if you like it
when I roll your balls with my hand.  If you're the kind of guy who'll lay
back and let me take you into my throat and suck you until you scream for
me, or if you're the kind who'll get into it, thrust deep into me, set the
rhythm.  Will you fuck my mouth, Tom?  Will you look down and meet my eyes
as I tease you?  Will you come for me, shake and shudder when your cock
throbs in my mouth?

> Possibly this is a silly question, but - you actually want details?

Yeah.  I think I do.

> > When I talk to you I think I want to be alone.
>
> *shivers*  Yes. Please.

Oh God yes.

> > Do you have an answering machine?
> > And when are your roommates coming back?
>
> Yes, although it's in the living room, so it's not private, and they'll
> probably be back sometime over the weekend.  I do have a phone in my room
> though.

Right.  So no pornographic messages for you.  :P  Got it.

> > Sleep well, Tom.
>
> Did, thanks partly to you. *ahem*  Hope you had a good night, and Mr
> Obnoxious doesn't snore.

*perk*  Really?  Cool.  :D  And no, he didn't.  Mind you, he may not have
slept.  Heh.

> Ok - time to get back to the complexities of family network
> patterns across time and distance - this is the statistics chapter so I'll
> be looking hopefully for distraction at regular intervals ;)

Did I distract you, Tom?

Your turn.

Oliver.



To::  Oliver Kurland [rkurls @ pdc.com]
From:  Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Tuesday, 5.47pm

> Man, what a night!  And I mean that in the 'weird and rather uncomfortable'
> sense.

Can I ask a question? Is it always like this, or did you get sucked into
some parallel universe where they're testing out all the things that can go
weird? I mean - you’re two for two with the hotel thing right now - am I a
jinx or something?

> Then Victor asks how Peter is, and I say "I don't know, haven't really seen
> much of him for the past year or so."  He just nods and says, "Sorry to hear
> that," and moves on.  Very well handled, I thought.

Sounds like it.

> "So, are you?" he finally says.
>
> "Am I what?  Tall?  Sort of, but you can see that--just about six feet.
> Fit?  Hell yeah, but I work at it.  Tired?  Yep.  Oh, you mean the guy
> thing.  Yeah, not one for the ladies."

*smiles* - Possibly that was pissy, but : points for style.

> "So the Peter that Victor asked about, he was your..." Cue him stumbling
> over the word 'boyfriend'.
>
> I shut off the computer and stand up, looking right at him.  "Look, you're
> safe.  Was talking about a guy in England, and honestly?  You're not my
> type."

Always glad to be of service as  an excuse ;)

> Out of the dark I hear, "What's it like?"

Jesus!  - I mean I've had a couple of mates who were curious - although
'really fucking good' was more the level of detail they were going for -
think they'd freak if things got too graphic. Might turn them on, and then
the world would end. - but you'd never met this guy! I mean, it's a very
personal question.

> "Look, are you asking 'cause it's something that freaks you out, or are you
> having some sort of sexual identity crisis?  If you're trying to figure out
> if you're into guys--"

And yet you have the patience to try and figure out where he’s coming from
before you blast him. You really are a good guy - I'm going to assume you
don’t mind hearing that.

> So I sigh and raise an eyebrow at him.  "You want me to tell you what it's
> like to suck cock?  What it feels like to lick someone's balls and taste his
> come?  How hot it is to be on your knees for someone?  Or do you want me to
> tell you about fucking?  What it's like to slide into the hottest tightest
> place you've ever been, or feel a guy ramming into your ass?"

Yes.

Sorry - was that a cheap shot?  I mean - I would, but then I'm not some guy
you only - this sentence isn't going quite the way I wanted it to. It
doesn't feel like you're some guy I just met, even though, technically,
Todd's spent more time with you.  Suddenly the weird comes through again
... sorry.

> LOL!  I wondered if that was some funky computer glitch. Good for you, up at
> a reasonable hour.  :P  And yet again, I'm sending a reply in the twilight
> zone of time changes.

Reasonable hour! - I was here till nearly ten last night and I'm supposedly
on holiday!

> > I picked up Loot on the way in, and I'll call around this evening, see
> > what manner of bike I can track down. Rackety I can deal with, but a
> > racer type?
> > Eep. I figure if I write a check his will clear ... Might need you to wish
> > me luck again.
>
> Good luck.  Hope it takes this time.  :-)

Me too - I’ve got a couple of people to see tomorrow - I really need wheels.
At least the gits that trashed my bike didn’t get the panniers, so that's
one thing I don't have to shell out for.

> > My parents aren’t so bad - especially at a safe distance and without Seth
> > insisting that really, I flogged my bike to pay my dealer, which
> > is what he said to me last night - told him that no, that's what I pay my
> > pimp for.
> > There was this moment of stunned silence, and then he cracked up. Fingers
> > crossed he's got the point. Seeing as Mum hasn't phoned demanding the keys
> > to my chastity belt, we'll assume so.
>
> 1) Maybe you stunned Seth into some sense, which would be cool.  :-)  2) Um,
> no sending the keys to your mother.  I want 'em.  ;-)

That part of the evil plan? Keeping me in thrall with the promise that you'll
give me them back One Day?

> > Fair enough - this hotel thing really isn't as glamorous as it sounds, is
> > it?
>
> Nope.  Actually, some aren't bad, and I do like the work, but it would be
> perfect if I could get to my own bed every night.  Mostly, I get tired of
> the food--hotel meals always taste the same.

Are you really angling to have me cook for you when you're in London?  I'm
really serious about the house being a sty, and my housemates being gannets.

> > > > Unless you invited the Evil Overlord Assessment Tribunal or
> > > > something.
> > >
> > > Nah, they're not invited to person business e-mail.
> >
> > That’s reassuring.
> >
> > What *do* they audit?
>
> Er...they keep track of how many people I bring to the dark side.  And
> uniform production.

How’s the design team getting on?

> > > Does 'score' mean the same thing in the Queen's English as it does
> > > here? *innocent whistle*
> >
> > That would depend on what it means in Colonial.
>
> score, to:  (verb) ....half a page of definition skipped...7. intr. sl. a.
> obtain drugs illegally.  b. (of a man) make a sexual conquest.
>
> Er, got that out of the Concise OED, so I'm thinking that might apply to you
> too.  And now I've forgotten what my point was.

Um - that you still owe me a photo?

> So.  We keep going, see what happens, yeah?  You need me to slow down, tell
> me.  I trust you to know, and for both our sakes I'm going to let that go
> now.  We both know that this can be weird, so I'll just let you tell me if
> you need something.

I'll try.

> > When do you get to go home?
>
> Tonight, after supper--fly out at 8:06, it'll be...God, close to midnight or
> later when I get home.  Yuck.  Think I'll take tomorrow morning off, work
> later in the evening.

They flew you out to the wrong place on three hours notice - I'd say you
deserve a lie in. But then I'm a student lay about, aren't I?

> You want to hear about that, Tom?  Want to know that I'm sitting at a
> borrowed desk getting hard just thinking about kissing you?  Tasting you,
> feeling your mouth, holding you against me.  Want to map your skin with my
> fingers, feel you rub up against me.  Wonder how you'll sound when I take
> your prick in my mouth and suck on you.  How you'll taste, if you like it
> when I roll your balls with my hand.  If you're the kind of guy who'll lay
> back and let me take you into my throat and suck you until you scream for
> me, or if you're the kind who'll get into it, thrust deep into me, set the
> rhythm.  Will you fuck my mouth, Tom?  Will you look down and meet my eyes
> as I tease you?  Will you come for me, shake and shudder when your cock
> throbs in my mouth?

How do you do that? - just - say that stuff so easily - God, but its hot -
imagining you saying that, with the accent, imagining you doing that. God
imagining you on your knees, pushing me back into the wall, both of us
needing too much to get all the way naked.

Fuck.

Oh God. If I open my eyes then I read this again, when I close them, I'm
just flashing images, and I'm in a computer lab with a couple of girls
typing away at the other end of the bay.  For some reason the phrase 'a rock
and a hard place' seems inappropriately amusing.

> > Possibly this is a silly question, but - you actually want details?
>
> Yeah.  I think I do.

I don't know if I can - not the way you seem to be able to. Just - feel
silly, I guess. Like : what you wrote? I hear that like it's you saying it,
but I don't know,  I'm going to sound like it's being read by 'Porn Video
Voice Over Man', but at the same time I want to. Want you to know, because.
Because you're hot, and the things you say just go right through me, have me
hot, hard, wanting.

And then I think about what I'm writing and it just seems stupid.

> Did I distract you, Tom?

God yes.

Oliver? I'm sorry. It's suddenly got very one sided and weird and that's my
fault. I don't actually want you to stop - but things just get weirder and
more one sided, don’t they?

I've got a song lyric going round in my head : tongue tied in the presence
of beauty.

When I think about you, you're beautiful.

I think about undressing you, about taking away those layers and finding
skin underneath, wonder what your body looks like, if you're hairy?
tanned? - the layers don't stop me seeing the lines of you, lean and strong,
but - my fingers want to find out more, find the detail, the exact shape of
your pecs, the size of your nipples, the lines of your hip bones, trace your
navel, your collar bones, your face. I've only got you topless in my mind
and I'm already desperate. Don't want to grab and take and rush though. Want
to learn you, slow and deep and good - want to be perfect.



To:  Oliver Kurland [rkurls @ pdc.com]
From:  Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Tuesday, 6.02pm

Hey Oliver,

Sorry, I'm a coward.  It was hit send or just delete - right now I'm rather
wishing I'd deleted, but - I don't know. Is it ok?

I'm just going to change the subject entirely, ok?

If my traitor brain will let me.

In fact I'm going to get myself another coffee, and come back and start
again - probably the other address.

Is that ok?

Tom
*********
Remember : You are not a salmon.



To:  Oliver Kurland
From:  Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Tuesday, 6.22pm

Hey,

Ended up getting a coffee and then taking it for a walk around the quad -
I've spent far too long today sitting crabbed up at a desk, and while it's
still quiet enough for me to take a break and still have a machine to go
back to I figured I'd take advantage. I know I'm tall but I'm not *that*
tall - I swear this place was designed for midgets.

At least I don't have any general lecture classes any more. Those used to
kill me in the first year.  There's one main lecture theatre they use for
the really big classes - 150+ students - *really* big classes - and the rake
was so steep and the leg room so narrow, you're end up kneeing the person in
front in the head. It got so, after a few weeks, it had sort of reached a
natural order, with the smallest people in the middle of the row, and this
stripe of lanky gits down the sides of the two aisles, where we could keep
our knees to ourselves.

I think I might take your example later and run up and down the stairs like
a lunatic - well the housemates aren't home, are they? Walking in is kind of
fun : you do see more, going more slowly : but I feel like I need a bit of a
kick. If I had my damn bike I'd go out for a run now, before it gets dark. I
guess I'm feeling a bit cooped up without my escape route within easy reach.
The campus is starting to slowly fill up a bit too - the bank holiday
weekend where I had the pace absolutely to myself was blissful, but it's not
too bad to have a few people around. I'm certainly grateful the library
staff are back. I got myself tied up in a real knot earlier with some of my
statistics [I have got to get better at keeping track of my references -
that's something I'm learning from doing the diss.] and the woman on the
desk pointed me at the right stuff in minutes - it'd've taken me at least an
hour or so to figure it out for myself. Having access to the short loan
stuff again's helping too.  I still need to type up the last chunk of this
chapter, but I'm getting there. I'll probably get that done before I go
home.

This thing isn’t due until a week on Friday, but I'd like to have it ready
to hand in before term starts up again. Apart from anything else that'll
give my tutor time to read it over and have me correct any really glaring
mistakes. It's 20% of my final mark, so I want to get it right!

Are you interested hearing all this day to day stuff? Hell - you want I
should describe my surroundings so you can imagine where I am when I'm
writing to you? I'll admit that I'm curious - about your office, your
apartment - more your apartment - I figure that would be more your space,
say more about you.

I think my room probably says that I'm a broke student with a bit of a sad
sci fi trend to him. My department sorted the house out for me while I was
in the US, so I got the smallest room, seeing as I wasn't there to stake a
claim when the letting agent took the booking. I should really have gone for
a place in halls, I suppose, but I hate the idea of living in a tower block
on campus. Sharing a kitchen and a bathroom with these two has it's moments
[remind me to tell you about the time Ian decided to shave his head for a
bet?] but it beats sharing with a whole floor, and at least we have a living
room. It's all decorated landlord style - white woodchip wallpaper and ugly
70's curtains, and swirly carpets that seem designed not to show the marks
by dint of looking like they're filthy from day one. Standard issue 'HMO'
furniture : one single bed, cheap pine, one wardrobe / draw unit, cheap
pine-effect MDF, one desk, ditto, one set of wall shelves, ditto, and me and
all my worldly possessions crammed in there somehow. I'm not really a neat
freak, but if I don't make a bit of an effort I'll just drown seeing as
there really isn't anywhere for the junk to go. I covered the walls in
posters pretty much on day one in a vain attempt to make the space mine.
Part of me can't wait to move out, get somewhere half decent, part of me's
clinging to it 'cos for all I know the next stop is back to my parents, and
that's really not where I want to end up. Overall it's not anything I'd
choose in an ideal world, but - it's a roof over my head, and near to the
parks,  the guy's aren't so bad, [ we share tastes in cheesy movies and a
hatred of soap operas ;) - that goes a long way] and we've not been broken
into any time this year. My standards might be a little higher when I'm
choosing a place myself, mind.

OK - I'm going to go back to this damned chapter, hopefully having given you
a different shade of boredom for a few minutes. I went over to the Union and
had a proper, actual, meal for lunch - or at least a canteen approximation
of an actual meal : I'm not thinking too hard about what animal the mince
came from - and the coffee and fresh air's perked me up, so I think I'm good
for another few hours work.

Take care, and hope you can salvage something from the wreck of this trip ;)

Tom.
*********
Remember : You are not a salmon.


***Phone Message***

***Wednesday, 1:33pm London Time***

"Tom?  It's Oliver.  I just wanted you to know I got all three e-mails and
I'm going to be offline until late tonight, maybe even tomorrow.  I'm...not
ignoring you, or doing a vanishing act.  Just wanted you to know that.
Ummm, I hope you found a bike, and that everything is going okay with the
dissertation.  It's...eight thirty in the morning here, and my flights got
messed up, so I'm completely whacked--going back to bed for a bit, then to
the office.  I'll be working late, but we've been told that the internal
server is going to be offline for some reason, thus the no mail.  Don't
stress, I'll get back to you soon.  I...hell.  I miss you.  Talk later."



To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland [rkurls @ pdc.com]
Sent: Wednesday, 11:58pm

Hey, I'm going to reply to the ones on this address and then do a recap and
other stuff on the regular one.

> Can I ask a question? Is it always like this, or did you get sucked into
> some parallel universe where they're testing out all the things
> that can go weird? I mean - you’re two for two with the hotel thing right
> now - am I a jinx or something?

You are not a jinx, and while these last two have been really not normal,
they aren't unheard of.  Well, maybe Todd is.  And my friend in Toronto.
But...huh.  Yeah, this just weird.  I've told the bosses to keep me off
travel for the next bit--I've got a recruiting thing in Baltimore next week
(two days, one night) then nothing until London.

> > I shut off the computer and stand up, looking right at him.
> > "Look, you're safe.  Was talking about a guy in England, and honestly?
> > You're not my type."
>
> Always glad to be of service as  an excuse ;)

Glad you don't mind, but you're not just an excuse--I meant it.  :-)

> > Out of the dark I hear, "What's it like?"
>
> Jesus!  - I mean I've had a couple of mates who were curious - although
> 'really fucking good' was more the level of detail they were going for -
> think they'd freak if things got too graphic. Might turn them on, and then
> the world would end. - but you'd never met this guy! I mean, it's a very
> personal question.

Yeah.  Kinda strange, and completely out of my experience.  No one has ever
asked me anything like that before.

> And yet you have the patience to try and figure out where he’s coming from
> before you blast him. You really are a good guy - I'm going to assume you
> don’t mind hearing that.

I don't mind hearing it.  :-)  But truthfully, I was stalling.  I had *no*
idea what to say to him, and it just came out.  I was trying to figure out
if he was a closet case, or trying to wind me up, or what the hell was going
on.  And I was pissy 'cause I just wanted to go to sleep, and I mad 'cause I
had to share a room with a stranger, and I was....well.  I wasn't in the
best frame of mind.  So, I stalled.  :P

> > So I sigh and raise an eyebrow at him.  "You want me to tell
> > you what it's like to suck cock?  What it feels like to lick someone's
> > balls and taste his come?  How hot it is to be on your knees for someone?  Or do you
> > want me to tell you about fucking?  What it's like to slide into the
> > hottest tightest place you've ever been, or feel a guy ramming into your
> > ass?"
>
> Yes.
>
> Sorry - was that a cheap shot?  I mean - I would, but then I'm
> not some guy you only - this sentence isn't going quite the way I wanted
> it to. It doesn't feel like you're some guy I just met, even though, technically,
> Todd's spent more time with you.  Suddenly the weird comes through again
> ... sorry.

1)  You aren't a stranger, you know me better than most.  2) You're gay, and
someone I *want* to be with--thus, easier to tell that kind of stuff to.
And 3)  I think we better leave off this kind of stuff for now.  You're not
terribly comfortable with it, even if it does turn you on, and I'm kind of
thinking that if we keep this up I'll just wind up jumping you as soon as I
get to London, and then we won't get any time to talk, or climb and I'm
having a hard time coming up with why that's a bad thing.  Give me a minute.

Oh right.  Because I respect you, and how lame does that sound?  I don't
want to arrive in London, say hi, then take you right to my room.  I want to
spend time with you, not just have sex with you, you know?

Not saying that I don't want to have sex too, but...Christ, I'm just going
to shut up now.

> > LOL!  I wondered if that was some funky computer glitch. Good
> > for you, up at a reasonable hour.  :P

> Reasonable hour! - I was here till nearly ten last night and I'm
> supposedly on holiday!

Yeah, that part sucks.

> > > My parents aren’t so bad - especially at a safe distance and without
> > > Seth insisting that really, I flogged my bike to pay my dealer, which
> > > is what he said to me last night - told him that no, that's what I pay
> > >  my pimp for. There was this moment of stunned silence, and then he
> > > cracked up.
> > > Fingers crossed he's got the point. Seeing as Mum hasn't phoned
> > > demanding the keys to my chastity belt, we'll assume so.
> >
> > 1) Maybe you stunned Seth into some sense, which would be cool.  :-)  2)
> > Um, no sending the keys to your mother.  I want 'em.  ;-)
>
> That part of the evil plan? Keeping me in thrall with the promise
> that you'll give me them back One Day?

You've been peeking at the plans again, or I have a leak in the
organization.  *makes note to search for leak*

> > > Fair enough - this hotel thing really isn't as glamorous as it sounds,
> > > is it?
> >
> > Nope.  Actually, some aren't bad, and I do like the work, but
> > it would be perfect if I could get to my own bed every night.  Mostly, I
> > get tired of the food--hotel meals always taste the same.
>
> Are you really angling to have me cook for you when you're in London?  I'm
> really serious about the house being a sty, and my housemates
> being gannets.

Ah shit. No, that wasn't what I meant, I know you can't cook for me while
you're living there.  Just saying that hotel food is bland and uniform.  I
think they all use the same menu, and possibly the same chef.  Maybe there's
this grand robot chef factory, where they are all produced, and that's why I
can't tell the difference from hotel to hotel--there really is no
difference.

> > > What *do* they audit?
> >
> > Er...they keep track of how many people I bring to the dark side.  And
> > uniform production.
>
> How’s the design team getting on?

They're insisting on leather trousers.  I finally told them to go ahead, but
said no to the fake metal shirt, and burned the hat on first viewing.  We're
working on it.  How do you feel about capes?

> > score, to:  (verb) ....half a page of definition skipped...7. intr. sl.
> > a. obtain drugs illegally.  b. (of a man) make a sexual conquest.
> >
> > Er, got that out of the Concise OED, so I'm thinking that might apply to
> > you too.  And now I've forgotten what my point was.
>
> Um - that you still owe me a photo?

Oh right.  Photo.  Will see what I can do in the morning.

> > So.  We keep going, see what happens, yeah?  You need me to slow down,
> > tell me.  I trust you to know, and for both our sakes I'm going to
> > let that go now.  We both know that this can be weird, so I'll just let
> > you tell me if you need something.
>
> I'll try.

I need you to, Tom.  Can't do what you want--more, less--unless you tell me
what you need.

> They flew you out to the wrong place on three hours notice - I'd say you
> deserve a lie in. But then I'm a student lay about, aren't I?

I took the morning off, stayed at the office until after ten, and now here I
am.  Ready for bed again.

You most certainly aren't a lay about--you've been working your ass off.

>> Will you fuck my mouth, Tom?  Will you look down and
> > meet my eyes as I tease you?  Will you come for me, shake and shudder
> > when your cock throbs in my mouth?
>
> How do you do that? - just - say that stuff so easily

I don't know.  It's just...I think it, and type it and keep going.  I don't
read it over, I just feel it.  It's not *easy* but it...well, it turns me
on, too, and I just *do* it.

> - God, but its hot - imagining you saying that, with the accent, imagining
> you doing that. God, imagining you on your knees, pushing me back into
> the wall, both of us needing too much to get all the way naked.
>
> Fuck.

Yeah.  That's an image that'll stick.

> Oh God. If I open my eyes then I read this again, when I close them, I'm
> just flashing images, and I'm in a computer lab with a couple of girls
> typing away at the other end of the bay.  For some reason the
> phrase 'a rock and a hard place' seems inappropriately amusing.

Umm.  Yeah.  I'm sorry?  I mean....damn, not easy to read that in a public
room, I'll bet.

> > > Possibly this is a silly question, but - you actually want details?
> >
> > Yeah.  I think I do.
>
> I don't know if I can - not the way you seem to be able to. Just - feel
> silly, I guess. Like : what you wrote? I hear that like it's you
> saying it, but I don't know,  I'm going to sound like it's being read by
> 'Porn Video Voice Over Man', but at the same time I want to. Want you to
> know, because. Because you're hot, and the things you say just go right
> through me, have me hot, hard, wanting.

Oh God.  See, that?  Not in the least porn voice over man, and it made me
gasp, just the image.  God, Tom.  I want to see you.

> And then I think about what I'm writing and it just seems stupid.

It's not stupid.  But it's not something you're comfortable with.  Unless
it's something you have to get to used to?  I don't know.  When I do it I
don't think about it, I just send it.  *Then* I panic.  Think it's too
graphic, too much, too dirty.  Maybe you're just panicking before me.  Maybe
I'm just a pervert.  :P

> Oliver? I'm sorry. It's suddenly got very one sided and weird and
> that's my fault. I don't actually want you to stop - but things just get
> weirder and more one sided, don’t they?

No, it just says we're different, that we can do different things.  Just
knowing that you read that stuff I wrote and that it has an effect on you
makes me...well, hard and wanting. Thinking about you wanting.  And I'm
rambling again, because part of my mind is closed up in a bedroom somewhere,
so I'm going to stop.

> I've got a song lyric going round in my head : tongue tied in the presence
> of beauty.

It's a wonderful lyric.  :-)

> When I think about you, you're beautiful.

Oh.  (And that made me gasp too.  What a wonderful thing to read.  Thank
you.)

> I think about undressing you, about taking away those layers and finding
> skin underneath, wonder what your body looks like, if you're hairy?
> tanned? - the layers don't stop me seeing the lines of you, lean
> and strong, but - my fingers want to find out more, find the detail, the
> exact shape of your pecs, the size of your nipples, the lines of your hip
> bones, trace your navel, your collar bones, your face. I've only got you topless
> in my mind and I'm already desperate. Don't want to grab and take and rush
> though. Want to learn you, slow and deep and good - want to be perfect.

Tom.

I'm....

That?  So good.  Makes me feel good, makes me want.  I want that.

Oliver



To:  Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland [rkurls @pdc.com]
Sent:  Thursday 12:02am

> Sorry, I'm a coward.  It was hit send or just delete - right now
> I'm rather wishing I'd deleted, but - I don't know. Is it ok?

So much more than okay.  Lovely.

> I'm just going to change the subject entirely, ok?

Okay.

> If my traitor brain will let me.

I'll help.  Don't want you uncomfortable.

> In fact I'm going to get myself another coffee, and come back and start
> again - probably the other address.
>
> Is that ok?

Of course.  And this is what I meant about telling me what you need.  Thank
you.

Oliver



To: Thomas Moorfield
From: Oliver Kurland
Sent:  Thursday 12:33am

Thank you.  Thank you for telling me about your day, about your place, about
what you see.

Ready for my stuff?  :-)

Phoenix update:  Sat most of the day and did long distance stuff with Janet
over a borrowed cell and e-mail.  Todd flushed every time he saw me, and I
was ever so thankful we didn't share a flight out.  Had lunch with Victor
and got caught up on some gossip from the NY office.

Um, there's a rumour that the KI office in London (up until now strictly
admin and manufacturing of something--nothing I've ever had any contact with
at any rate) is going to start up an overseas outreach office.  Something
about the expense of sending people like me to England all the time, because
of the sheer number of schools.  I'm looking into it, see if it has any
basis or is just someone's pipe dream.

Got to the airport and my flight was cancelled, had to wait for a red eye so
I didn't get to my apartment until almost four.  (Had checked my e-mail just
before leaving the office and had no way to reply.)  Janet called at seven
with the message that the server would be down and we'd be doing most of our
planning stuff by checking hard copies of data (which was fine, really--a
nice change, and I got to actually talk to people face to face).  So I told
her I'd be in late and fell asleep.  Had a dream that you'd freaked 'cause I
didn't get in touch, so I called, hoping you'd be hanging around, but not
so.

Hope you got my message.

Worked late and here I am.  :-)

I just took a long look around my apartment, trying to see what a stranger
would.  It's...a little empty.  Nothing much on the walls, except for a few
nice prints I got at a gallery downtown, sort of impressionistic.  Book
case, crammed with paperbacks and my old anthro texts.  The living room is
like a narrow rectangle, so I've got the couch and the TV down at one end,
the computer table and a chair at the other.  The kitchen is tiny and
spotless, because the only thing I do in there is wipe the counter and make
toast.

There's a short hall, leading to the bedroom and the bathroom--the one thing
I *love* about this place is the bathroom.  Big tub with an extra shower
head at the other end?  I don't know how they did the plumbing, but when you
turn on the shower you get sprayed from two angles, and it's amazing.

The bedroom's just a bedroom--queen size bed, dresser, two closets.

The walls and the carpets are all done in shades of blue....which sounds
like it would be dark in here, but it isn't.  There's lots of windows and I
get good light.  If I was smart I'd have plants.  :P

My office is tiny.  Just my desk, three filing cabinets and a shelf.  Not
even room for a second chair.  But it has a door and my degree is on the
wall, so that's cool.  :-)

Got mail from my dad when I got home tonight.  He's in California at the
moment, or he was last week.  Says he's doing well, that once again he's
found his paradise.  That's dad speak for he's getting laid, though he'd
never admit it.

My dad's a kid, really.  He's gentle and passionate, always one for causes.
He and my mom did a lot of good work together, before.  He told me, when we
were in Israel (more about that in a moment) that he'd fallen in love with
her because of her spirituality.  I asked him how, if that's what drove them
apart, and he explained that he loved her ability to have faith, that she
found something in this world so pure that she could take it into herself.
It wasn't until years later, when my sister and I were teens, that her faith
in the Christian God had taken over so much of her life that it became an
issue between them.

It wasn't until I came out so spectacularly and she declared that I was
going to hell and he disagreed.

So I was eighteen and gay and my parents were fighting about the state of my
soul.  My dad said I was what I am, and that I was still me.  My mom said I
was an agent of the devil and must be made to repent.

Dad took me to Israel that summer and they were divorced by Christmas.

So I killed my parent's by being gay.  Yay me.

Dad says I did no such thing, that my mother had been swayed and made closed
minded.  That it had nothing to do with the Church--which honestly? I
believe.  A church can't make people turn on their family.  A cult maybe,
but this was no cult.  This was my mother making a choice.

Still, my mom and my sister spent a lot of time reading their Bibles and my
dad spent a lot of time talking to me.  Guess which matters more to me?

And I think maybe he's bi, but we don't talk about it.  :P

Um, that was a load of stuff for you to think about.

Other random Oliver facts to leave you with:  I always put on my left shoe
first, I always buy paperbacks used, but hard covers new, and I can't walk
past a used bookstore without going in.  My favourite colour is green, and I
think I'm really tired now.

Going to bed, have a good day, Tom.

Later,

Oliver



To : Oliver Kurland [rkurls @ pdc.com]
From : Thomas Moorfield
Sent: Thursday, 11:26 am.

First up : thank you for the phone message - Found it when I got home last
night, and - thanks. Weird to hear your voice. Good weird. Good to know why
you hadn't written. [First basic rule of thumb : all technology will mess up
at the worst possible moment ... ] I wasn't freaking out, but - well - maybe
worried a bit around the edges.

> You are not a jinx, and while these last two have been really not normal,
> they aren't unheard of.  Well, maybe Todd is.  And my friend in Toronto.
> But...huh.  Yeah, this just weird.

OK, so long as it's not normal, because the idea of you getting randomly
accosted one way or another on every trip isn't entirely a happy one.

> > > I shut off the computer and stand up, looking right at him.
> > > "Look, you're safe.  Was talking about a guy in England, and honestly?
> > > You're not my type."
> >
> > Always glad to be of service as an excuse ;)
>
> Glad you don't mind, but you're not just an excuse--I meant it.  :-)

Cool ;)

> > Jesus!  - I mean I've had a couple of mates who were curious - although
> > 'really fucking good' was more the level of detail they were going for -
> > think they'd freak if things got too gaphic. Might turn them on, and
> > then the world would end. - but you'd never met this guy! I mean, it's a very
> > personal question.
>
> Yeah.  Kinda strange, and completely out of my experience.  No one has
> ever asked me anything like that before.

I have never felt the need to ask anyone, friend or stranger, what sex with
a woman is like ... then again, I guess I see enough of that in films and tv
and what have you to form an opinion - doesn't work so well the other way
around I guess. Like I said, it's come up once or twice with mates, but in
the context of a whole conversation, and some of it's just, well, basic
education 'what do two guys do together?' kind of stuff - nothing too
invasive.

> > And yet you have the patience to try and figure out where he’s coming
> > from before you blast him. You really are a good guy - I'm going to assume
> > you don’t mind hearing that.
>
> I don't mind hearing it.  :-)  But truthfully, I was stalling.  I had *no*
> idea what to say to him, and it just came out.  I was trying to figure out
> if he was a closet case, or trying to wind me up, or what the hell was
> going on.  And I was pissy 'cause I just wanted to go to sleep, and I mad 'cause
> I had to share a room with a stranger, and I was....well.  I wasn't in the
> best frame of mind.  So, I stalled.  :P

So, you’re saying it was your subconscious trying to be nicer-than-standard?
;) - Or is that salesman-brain trying to figure out why someone’s asking
something, what they want?  I still think most people would have just told
him to fuck off and mind his own business.

> > Sorry - was that a cheap shot?  I mean - I would, but then I'm
> > not some guy you only - this sentence isn't going quite the way I wanted
> > it to. It doesn't feel like you're some guy I just met, even though, technically,
> > Todd's spent more time with you.  Suddenly the weird comes through
> > again ... sorry.
>
> 1)  You aren't a stranger, you know me better than most.

That is pretty - wow.

> 2) You're gay, and someone I *want* to be with--thus, easier to tell that kind of stuff to.

Well - yeah. [And again wow, and smiles]

> And 3)  I think we better leave off this kind of stuff for now.  You're
> not terribly comfortable with it, even if it does turn you on,

Sorry.

I think you might have a point.

Sorry.

> and I'm kind of thinking that if we keep this up I'll just wind up jumping
> you as soon as I get to London, and then we won't get any time to talk,
> or climb and I'm having a hard time coming up with why that's a bad thing.  
> Give me a minute.

LOL ;D

> Oh right.  Because I respect you, and how lame does that sound?  I don't
> want to arrive in London, say hi, then take you right to my room.  I want
> to spend time with you, not just have sex with you, you know?
>
> Not saying that I don't want to have sex too, but...Christ, I'm just going
> to shut up now.

Is it mean of me to be glad it's not just me falling over my sentences?
I'm - I don’t know if 'blown away' is the word, but - you are something -
thank you, and yes, and yes, and - you do realise I'm grinning like a nutter
here?

> > > >  Seeing as Mum hasn't phoned demanding the
> > > > keys to my chastity belt, we'll assume so.
> > >
> > > 1) Maybe you stunned Seth into some sense, which would be cool.  :-)
> > > 2) Um, no sending the keys to your mother.  I want 'em.  ;-)
> >
> > That part of the evil plan? Keeping me in thrall with the promise
> > that you'll give me them back One Day?
>
> You've been peeking at the plans again, or I have a leak in the
> organization.  *makes note to search for leak*

Well, I don’t work for you yet, so it can't be here - maybe there's a mole!

> > > Nope.  Actually, some aren't bad, and I do like the work, but
> > > it would be perfect if I could get to my own bed every night.  Mostly,
> > > I get tired of the food--hotel meals always taste the same.
> >
> > Are you really angling to have me cook for you when you're in London?
> > I'm really serious about the house being a sty, and my housemates
> > being gannets.
>
> Ah shit. No, that wasn't what I meant, I know you can't cook for me while
> you're living there.  Just saying that hotel food is bland and uniform.  I
> think they all use the same menu, and possibly the same chef.  Maybe
> there's this grand robot chef factory, where they are all produced, and that's why
> I can't tell the difference from hotel to hotel--there really is no difference.

Could be - and sorry for the misunderstanding ;)

Day One of Evil Reign : Find and Destroy robot chef factory.

> > How's the design team getting on?
>
> They're insisting on leather trousers.  I finally told them to go ahead,
> but said no to the fake metal shirt, and burned the hat on first viewing.
> We're working on it.  How do you feel about capes?

Capes? Like they're kind of pretentious and likely to get in the way of
weapons?   And I heartily second the decision on the shirts - Leather
trousers might work though - I don't know - are they horribly uncomfortable
to wear?

> > Um - that you still owe me a photo?
>
> Oh right.  Photo.  Will see what I can do in the morning.

Thanks ;)

> > > So.  We keep going, see what happens, yeah?  You need me to slow down,
> > > tell me.  I trust you to know, and for both our sakes I'm going to
> > > let that go now.  We both know that this can be weird, so I'll just
> > > let you tell me if you need something.
> >
> > I'll try.
>
> I need you to, Tom.  Can't do what you want--more, less--unless you tell
> me what you need.

Thing is, that kind of requires me to know, and I'm not sure that I will, or
that I do. [The grammar of that sentence is vile, but you take my meaning?]
I think maybe I was panicking a bit the other day - looks like you spotted
that ahead of me though. I - I still *want* to be able to write to you like
that, but - I think you're right - need to pull back a bit, and maybe if I'm
not trying so hard - or maybe after you visit, or even just after all the
other stuff that's pushing on me goes away a bit.

> > How do you do that? - just - say that stuff so easily
>
> I don't know.  It's just...I think it, and type it and keep going.  I
> don't read it over, I just feel it.  It's not *easy* but it...well, it turns me
> on, too, and I just *do* it.

I'll bear that in mind. Hey - remind me sometimes that this is weird and new
and cool-but-a-little-scary for you too, huh?

> > Oh God. If I open my eyes then I read this again, when I close them, I'm
> > just flashing images, and I'm in a computer lab with a couple of girls
> > typing away at the other end of the bay.  For some reason the
> > phrase 'a rock and a hard place' seems inappropriately amusing.
>
> Umm.  Yeah.  I'm sorry?  I mean....damn, not easy to read that in a public
> room, I'll bet.

Yeah - I'm going to have to invest in a few long shirts to wear to the labs
;)  It was - a little awkward, but - worth it for the reading it over at
home later.

>  God, Tom.  I want to see you.

Do you know yet, what's happening with London? Meetings and stuff -and more
to the point when - which evening I should be keeping clear for our date?

> > And then I think about what I'm writing and it just seems stupid.
>
> It's not stupid.  But it's not something you're comfortable with.  Unless
> it's something you have to get to used to?  I don't know.  When I do it I
> don't think about it, I just send it.  *Then* I panic.  Think it's too
> graphic, too much, too dirty.  Maybe you're just panicking before me.
> Maybe I'm just a pervert.  :P

Maybe I just need the practise ;) - and I don't think you're a pervert.
Think you're damn sexy, in fact.

I was thinking about it - about me getting so sort of tied up about it -
don't know if you want me to go into the workings,  but I think maybe it'll
come more easily once we've actually been together. All I can think to compare
it to is doing a strip for someone - the difference between doing that in
your bedroom, with them right there and you can see their face, and hear
them and all that, and doing the same thing for a one way mirror. Which
makes it sound so sinister and  - it's just the not *knowing*, at least not
at the moment you have to hit send - does that make sense? It sort of made
sense in my head.

> > In fact I'm going to get myself another coffee, and come back and start
> > again - probably the other address.
> >
> > Is that ok?
>
> Of course.  And this is what I meant about telling me what you need.
> Thank you.

Thank *you* - you're making this so much easier.

That sounds odd.

I guess I don’t have a whole lot of experience to draw on here - and you're
making me feel like it's going to be ok - that it doesn't have to get in the
way of whatever's going to happen. Makes me feel like.... like you wouldn't
mind if I leant on you, or took your hand in mine.

Want to wrap my arms around your waist and just be still, take it all in for
a moment.

I'm going to run across campus and see if my tutor's keeping his office
hours this week, and Becka's back and is demanding I meet up with her for
lunch, so I'll reply to your other email properly later this afternoon, but
in brief : thank you for telling me all that.

Hey -  good morning ;)

Tom
*********
Remember : You are not a salmon.



To:  Thomas Moorfield
From:  Oliver Kurland [rkurls @pdc.com]
Sent:  Thursday, 8:12am

Good morning!  Or afternoon.  Whatever.  :P

> First up : thank you for the phone message - Found it when I got home last
> night, and - thanks. Weird to hear your voice. Good weird. Good
> to know why you hadn't written. [First basic rule of thumb : all
> technology will mess up at the worst possible moment ... ] I wasn't freaking out,
> but - well - maybe worried a bit around the edges.

Glad you got it and weren't stressing.  LOL on it being weird to hear my
voice.  :-)

> > You are not a jinx, and while these last two have been really
> > not normal, they aren't unheard of.  Well, maybe Todd is.  And my friend
> > in Toronto. But...huh.  Yeah, this just weird.
>
> OK, so long as it's not normal, because the idea of you getting randomly
> accosted one way or another on every trip isn't entirely a happy one.

Nor for me.

> > I don't mind hearing it.  :-)  But truthfully, I was stalling.
> > I had *no* idea what to say to him, and it just came out.  I was trying
> > to figure out if he was a closet case, or trying to wind me up, or what the
> > hell was going on.  And I was pissy 'cause I just wanted to go to sleep, and I
> > mad 'cause I had to share a room with a stranger, and I was....well.  I
> > wasn't in the best frame of mind.  So, I stalled.  :P
>
> So, you’re saying it was your subconscious trying to be
> nicer-than-standard?

So?  'm a very very nice guy.  Even to jerks.  :P  I'm super nice to people
I like.  ;-)

> ;) - or is that salesman-brain trying to figure out why someone’s asking
> something, what they want?  I still think most people would have just told
> him to fuck off and mind his own business.

Hadn't thought of that.  Hmmm.  Could have been sales guy making a break for
it, now that I think about it.  But I think I was mostly panicked and
stalling. :P

> > 1)  You aren't a stranger, you know me better than most.
>
> That is pretty - wow.
>
> > 2) You're gay, and someone I *want* to be with--thus, easier to tell
> > that kind of stuff to.
>
> Well - yeah. [And again wow, and smiles]

:D :D :D

> > And 3)  I think we better leave off this kind of stuff for now.  You're
> > not terribly comfortable with it, even if it does turn you on,
>
> Sorry.
>
> I think you might have a point.
>
> Sorry.

Don't be sorry.  It's fine.

> > Oh right.  Because I respect you, and how lame does that sound?  I don't
> > want to arrive in London, say hi, then take you right to my
> > room.  I want to spend time with you, not just have sex with you, you
> > know?
> >
> > Not saying that I don't want to have sex too, but...Christ, I'm
> > just going to shut up now.
>
> Is it mean of me to be glad it's not just me falling over my sentences?

Heh.  I do it more often in real life than I like to think about.  :P

> I'm - I don’t know if 'blown away' is the word, but - you are something -
> thank you, and yes, and yes, and - you do realise I'm grinning
> like a nutter here?

Really?  Cool.  ;-)

> > > That part of the evil plan? Keeping me in thrall with the promise
> > > that you'll give me them back One Day?
> >
> > You've been peeking at the plans again, or I have a leak in the
> > organization.  *makes note to search for leak*
>
> Well, I don’t work for you yet, so it can't be here - maybe
> there's a mole!

Eek a mole!  Er--that could be an issue for the world domination thing.  As
far as I know I'm the only one with access to The Plan (tm) and that would
mean the mole is...well, me.  Oh oh.

> Day One of Evil Reign : Find and Destroy robot chef factory.

That I fully endorse.

> > > How's the design team getting on?
> >
> > They're insisting on leather trousers.  I finally told them to go ahead,
> > but said no to the fake metal shirt, and burned the hat on first
> > viewing We're working on it.  How do you feel about capes?
>
> Capes? Like they're kind of pretentious and likely to get in the way of
> weapons?   And I heartily second the decision on the shirts - Leather
> trousers might work though - I don't know - are they horribly
> uncomfortable to wear?

Leather trousers?  No.  Well, not soft leather.  It gets all warm and sort
of clings and feels really nice.  *Oliver's brain has gone off to a happy
place.  We are trying to get it back.  Your patience is appreciated.*

> > > Um - that you still owe me a photo?
> >
> > Oh right.  Photo.  Will see what I can do in the morning.
>
> Thanks ;)

Found a couple that might do.  I've got peanut butter cookies too, so I'll
hit the post office on my way to work.  Which is the direction I'll be
headed in very soon.

> > I need you to, Tom.  Can't do what you want--more, less--unless you tell
> > me what you need.
>
> Thing is, that kind of requires me to know, and I'm not sure that
> I will, or that I do. [The grammar of that sentence is vile, but you take
> my meaning?]

Okay, that makes sense.  I guess...just tell me if you get uncomfortable, or
if there is something you want.

> I think maybe I was panicking a bit the other day - looks like you spotted
> that ahead of me though. I - I still *want* to be able to write
> to you like that, but - I think you're right - need to pull back a bit,
> and maybe if I'm not trying so hard - or maybe after you visit, or even just
> after all the other stuff that's pushing on me goes away a bit.

That makes sense too.  Smart guy.

> > > How do you do that? - just - say that stuff so easily
> >
> > I don't know.  It's just...I think it, and type it and keep going.  I
> > don't read it over, I just feel it.  It's not *easy* but it...well,
> > it turns me on, too, and I just *do* it.
>
> I'll bear that in mind. Hey - remind me sometimes that this is
> weird and new and cool-but-a-little-scary for you too, huh?

This is a little weird and new and cool-but-a-little-scary for me too. ;-)
Well, it is.

> > Umm.  Yeah.  I'm sorry?  I mean....damn, not easy to read that
> > in a public room, I'll bet.
>
> Yeah - I'm going to have to invest in a few long shirts to wear
> to the labs- ;)  It was - a little awkward, but - worth it for the reading
> it over at home later.

:D  :D

That's all, just a big grin.  :D

> >  God, Tom.  I want to see you.
>
> Do you know yet, what's happening with London? Meetings and stuff
> -and more to the point when - which evening I should be keeping clear for
> our date?

I fly in really late on the 19th , so that's out, then have stuff all day on
the 20th (Friday).  Saturday I'm clear from about three pm on, and Sunday
I'm free entirely.  Maybe....Can I call you when I get in, if it's not too
late?  And dinner on the Saturday?  If we can swing dinner or a phone call
or something on Friday night, that would be great too.  You'll be pretty
tied up with school, I expect though.

> Maybe I just need the practise ;) - and I don't think you're a pervert.
> Think you're damn sexy, in fact.

You can practice on me whenever you want.  :P  And thank you and *big
stupid grin*

> I was thinking about it - about me getting so sort of tied up about it -
> don't know if you want me to go into the workings,  but I think
> maybe it'll come more easily once we've actually been together. All I can
> think to compare it to is doing a strip for someone - the difference between
> doing that in your bedroom, with them right there and you can see their face, and hear
> them and all that, and doing the same thing for a one way mirror. Which
> makes it sound so sinister and  - it's just the not *knowing*, at
> least not at the moment you have to hit send - does that make sense? It
> sort of made sense in my head.

Yeah, it makes sense.  Well, it did after I got the striptease image out of
my head.  Woke me up, Tom.  Purrrr.

> I guess I don’t have a whole lot of experience to draw on here -
> and you're making me feel like it's going to be ok - that it doesn't have
> to get in the way of whatever's going to happen. Makes me feel like.... like
> you wouldn't mind if I leant on you, or took your hand in mine.

That?  I so wouldn't mind.  And yeah, right now I feel like it's all going
to be okay.

> Want to wrap my arms around your waist and just be still, take it
> all in for a moment.

Oh yes.  Please?

> I'm going to run across campus and see if my tutor's keeping his office
> hours this week, and Becka's back and is demanding I meet up with her for
> lunch, so I'll reply to your other email properly later this afternoon, but in
> brief : thank you for telling me all that.
>
> Hey -  good morning ;)

Good morning.  :-)  Hope your day is going well.

I'm off to the post office, then to work.  I have no idea what it's going to
be like today, but I'll be around.

Have a good day, Tom.  :-)

Oliver



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