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this cannot be happening.
as i checked again. and again. and yet another relentless stare. it was still there, etched out on skin like a permanent mark. maybe it was just an innocent scratch, i supposed. a zipper burn or sand abrasion? but could it be.... a syphilis sore? i never saw one, so i relied heavily comparing pictures at the net. although, i argued. there were some fundamental differences to rule out the nasty bug. but the arguments, overshadowed by doubts. and this would be the only possible fit.

if there's a shadow of doubt, then there is a chance. for a binary mind who either thinks zero or one, there can be no gray matter to leave hanging out.

contact tracing.
there were only two possibilities, either the missis or this boytoy. misis would be a highly unlikely suspect as i am almost sure of her monogamy. and she came out negative a month back from the pregnancy check.

this boytoy - he was really just a boy. who played with my toy a few weeks ago. as unbelievable as it may seem, there was no humping, screwing nor shagging (my long-standing conviction still appears successful to overule the hormonal drive). but enough skin contact, in theory, to make the wiggly bug transfer from the host to its new abode.

remorse.
i couldn't take my mind out of this anxiety throughout the whole business trip. time after time, i would take a discreet glance hoping it would disappear. it just looked just like any ordinary scrape of the skin.

the builder must have issued His warning sign to this now unfaithful sam.

ruling in.
i didnt have the guts to see a doctor. not even with close friends who happened to be one. but i needed answers. so when i got back, i forged a prescription for a blood test. a bogus patient's name. to a nondescript lab. and it was out of town. added a few more routine tests to come out like a pre-employment check. i was even almost tempted to draw my own blood and pretended it was for another man.

i did my history taking. took the boy out on a casual talk on my own version of the truth serum referred as kampai-yan. he didn't realize i was probing and seemed comfortable sharing his past chance encounters. he claimed never having any ONS's and all other skin encounters apart from being forced to getting a BJ from an older lad a few years back. claims having a rash once in a while, but those were from food allergy. but i further took him into an almost passing binge. to get him to bed, stripped of all his clothes. it took all my then un-sober might to focus onto making a physical at his groin. he didnt have any signs. a good prognosis, but still wasn't convincing enough.

thinking of the worst scenario, the common cure was a single intramuscular shot. i can make myself to self-inject, but the problem would be taking the forged prescription to the pharmacy. luckily, some leads of an oral alternative. which i can easily buy over the counter in this country of ours.

the verdict
so i waited for the pathology report. it took a few nights for it to be ready. i was preparing for the inevitable event and told myself it would be a very, very long abstinence to halt another transmission. to the misis would have an excuse, as it was a mutually unpleasant thought to do the deed while she was pregnant.

the d-day arrived and i was having cold sweats waiting inside the lab. as i received the paper, i zoomed on the serology report. the report that would tell the fate and tragedy this dishonored sam would be on that careless mistake.

half-shakingly holding the paper, the words read and came into me in slow motion..

non-reactive.