Years of memories seemed to be slipping away--some vague flash of losing his virginity on a basement sofa, fading snapshots of three-day-pass love affairs, the back seats of cars, grimy men's room doors. Now, there was only the cramped, dark tent, Rodney's hands tenderly sliding over his bruised and scraped skin, Rodney's mouth, wet and soft against his.

I really, really love that part, and I love *how* you made John a virgin again, not by physically erasing his virginity but *emotionally*, by making him so aware of life for the sheer pleasure of it through his nearly dying, like a teenager, and by having this new love thing with Rodney sort of blot out the past. I'm not making any sense, but I just really, really liked that.