webnovel

Not on My Bucket List

When Sam goes on a gay website looking for romance, he finds more than he bargained for. Rejecting all the usual requests for hook-ups, he searches for something more sincere. And he finds it in the most unexpected of places, as he is drawn to the profile of a man in a faraway place.<br><br>Amir, an Algerian descended from desert nomads, has posted a profile looking for the love of his life. Sam finds it amazing that a gay man born in the Algerian desert has the bravery to not only declare he is gay, but also to admit his dream is to find a husband to spend his life with.<br><br>While Sam doesn’t consider himself the marrying kind, he starts chatting with Amir, telling himself he just wants to learn about another culture. His friends laugh at him, saying this man just wants to use him to emigrate to the west and take him for his money. But he refuses to believe it, sensing a sincerity he has never seen with anyone else. The two begin a dialogue that moves to weekly Skype sessions, discussions of religion and world politics, assistance with life challenges and, finally, a declaration of love ... and an invitation.<br><br>Can these two men from vastly different worlds and cultures meet and find common ground for a romance? The challenges are great, and spending a life together seems like an impossible dream. While Sam’s friends continue to discourage him, he knows he cannot give up this man. Is Amir sincere, or is Sam being used?<br><br>There is only one way to find out if Amir is really sincere. And Sam knows what he has to do.

Tom Monroe · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
55 Chs

Chapter 35

“Perhaps a cool shower would help, maybe some body lotion of some sort, then you can use the ointment you bought at the pharmacy.”

“I don’t think the shower will help,” he snapped. “It will probably make it hurt more. And I don’t know if I can use lotion together with the ointment. In fact, the guy at the pharmacy wasn’t even completely sure this was the right thing to use. I am going to have to talk to a doctor to make sure this stuff will make me better, not worse.”

“How are you going to do that? It’s almost nine P.M. Twenty-one hundred,” I added quickly, knowing he told afternoon and evening time differently from me.

“I’ll have to go to the hospital,” he said simply.

“Wow. Right now? Do you know where the hospital is?”

“Yes. It’s not all that far. I can walk.”

“No. Not alone. It’s dark. I’m going with you.”

“It’s all right. I’ll be okay. I’m going to put on my caftan and break my rule about not wearing underwear so it doesn’t hurt so much.”