Timeless

Timeless ♥ Patric Michael

IF I had known just how thoroughly it would turn my world upside down, I would never have kissed Andy in that damned banquet room. I would have kissed him a hell of a lot sooner.

ANDY and I had been best friends since high school. Given our widely divergent personalities, you would not have thought our paths would ever cross, much less intertwine so closely. He was outgoing, personable, and popular. I was a nerd. “You’re too bookish, Nathan.” It was my grandmother’s favorite complaint. I was tutoring English after school, trying to earn extra credit one dismally gray February day in my senior year when the door opened, and Adonis walked in. Had to be Adonis, because this guy was too gorgeous to be anything but a god. Honey-gold curls framed his square-jawed, boyish face. I had been explaining the difference between an adverb

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and an adjective for what felt like the hundredth time to a sophomore named Kelly, who spent most of her time sighing and writing the name “Joseph” in the margins of her notebook when I wasn’t actually hovering over her shoulder. I kinda felt sorry for the guy, whoever he was. “Hi. You’re doing the English thing, right?” “I’m Mr. Barclay’s student aide, yes.” I tried to be nonchalant. I really did. The words were right, at least, but the glazed look that had to be on my face stole whatever detached professionalism I had been hoping to achieve. “Cool. You’re supposed to help me graduate, I guess.” He handed me a slip of paper. I looked at it, noted the counselor’s name at the top, Barclay’s name at the bottom, and general notes in between. “Uh, sure. No problem. Grab a seat, and I’ll be right with you.” “’kay.” He grinned, and dimples, which were as deep as wells, pierced his cheeks. I think my heart actually stopped right then. He flopped into a chair opposite my sophomore, stretching his long legs out into the aisle. I turned back to Kelly and knew right away that Joseph was ancient history. By the way he was looking back at her, I also knew it would be me doing the sighing from then on. Why are all the cute ones straight?

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With the help of his coach, several teachers, one counselor—who had developed a pronounced facial tic by the time we were through—and me, Andy graduated with a GPA high enough to get into State, as long as his parents’ pockets were deep enough. I went with him on a partial academic scholarship. By then we’d become best friends. My chief attraction to him, aside from his killer good looks, was his unconditional acceptance of my sexuality. It couldn’t have been easy for him, and it certainly wasn’t easy for me, but I had been out of the closet since I was a freshman in high school, and I had no intention of crawling back in, even though that made for some remarkably unhappy times for the next few years. I know kids teased him, but he settled the worst of them with affable mayhem and remained loyal throughout. Though I never needed him to fight my battles, most of which were long since won or lost by the time we met, I was always grateful for his uncomplicated, unwavering support. Once when we were standing around during the dress rehearsal for graduation, I asked him why he had put up with all the crap over the past year. Andy said nothing. Instead he reached to adjust the zipper of my gown. When I looked down, he tagged my nose and gave me that patented, golden-dimpled grin. Marginally funny, but it didn’t answer my question. When I pressed, he shrugged his varsity-sized shoulders and told me I was “just too cool.” I never asked again.

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Andy and I slogged our way through college; we partied way too much, helped each other with courses, and even roomed together during our senior year. Naturally, we observed the time-honored tradition of hanging an article of clothing off the doorknob whenever we brought a date home. “Yuck. Is that a jock strap?” It was more gray than white and had obviously seen better days. “Yeah. It means Andy’s got a girl in there,” I said, doing my best to suck a hickey on Alex’s neck as we stood outside my dorm room. We were both hammered. “I told you we should have left sooner.” “Shit.” “Yeah, I know. Come on. We can go back to your car, and you can fuck me into the floorboards.” I decided to try for a second hickey on the other side as encouragement. Alex stared at the filthy thing, bleary-eyed and stoned, while I made wet, smacking noises. When I finally stuck my tongue into his ear, he shook all over and dragged me down the hall. It wasn’t until we were sloppy and sated and smoking a joint in the backseat of his El Dorado that Alex bit at my nose and said, “A jock strap?” “Yeah. That’s Andy.” Give him one thing: he’s original.

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BY the time we’d graduated, I was on general staff for a small newspaper, writing a variety of articles. By small, I mean severely understaffed, which meant the traditional divisions between freelancers’, clerks’, and reporters’ regular duties were more than a little blurred. Since I was the newest, which I found out later meant I was least likely to complain, I covered the local “activities and events” and handled obituaries. It was mind-numbingly boring, but what else was I going to do with all that English under my belt? Even then I wasn’t angst-ridden enough to be a writer. Since Andy and I stayed local, we had more than one occasion to cross paths, and we always kept close tabs. He called me one Friday night from a bar, by the sound of it, and shouted over the noise. “Nate, buddy! Grab your cutie and get your ass over to the Square. I wanna celebrate!” “What are we celebrating?” I asked, chewing on my bottom lip and trying to think of a synonym for supercilious that didn’t sound so… supercilious. I was writing a piece on street crime, and if my editor approved it, I might finally be able to crawl out from under the never-ending stream of dog shows, weddings, and dead people. “I signed the deal with Direct, man. Ain’t that great?”

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Like everyone else at the time, Andy had wracked his brain over how to take advantage of the burgeoning growth of the Internet. He had decided that rather than adding to the mess, he would jump on the search engine bandwagon. With one of his math geek buddies and pestering me about things like lexicon, syntax, and structure, he had developed a unique approach to cataloging the ever-increasing, multitentacled monster known as “Web content.” The site became popular enough to be noticed by others with similar goals, and he had been approached by Direct with a buyout option. Andy wanted to buy in, however, and had begun earnest negotiations to take the purchase price for his concept as stock in the company. “Andy, that’s great! You’ve been working on that deal for months!” “No shit. Now get your cute butt down here and help us party, will ya?” “Is Monica with you?” “Of course. Where else would the finest lady in town be but right beside me?” I heard a scuffle, a shriek, and then lots of feminine laughter. I rolled my eyes. “Uh, I don’t know, man. I’m right in the middle of a story, and I don’t want to lose my steam.”

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I had met Monica once before, and we didn’t exactly hit it off. As we used to say when we were kids, “The vibe just wasn’t there.” “Oh, hey, you gotta come, Nate. Wouldn’t be the same without you, buddy. Please?” The last word was spoken in a high-pitched wheedling whine that was impossible to resist. Especially when he combined it with big, sad puppy-dog eyes. Adonis begging for a cookie. Even over the phone I could picture his face, and I grinned in spite of myself. That whining “please” had gotten us into more damned trouble…. “Okay, bro. I’ll be there in a half-hour.” “Are you still seeing Tony?” “Oh yes.” Tony. Just thinking about him made my butt sweat. “Cool. Bring him along! We’ll make a night of it.” I laughed and said I’d call him. Tony agreed to come. We were new enough together that we really couldn’t keep our hands off each other anyway, so I didn’t have to beg too hard. Especially after I tendered a few promises involving chocolate, lots of lube, and a certain double-ended, glow-inthe-dark dildo with batteries after we got home.

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ITS full name was “Square Peg,” which was about the worst name for a bar you could imagine until you understood that it served a wide variety of tastes and sexualities. It also had an unofficial “Don’t show, won’t tell” policy and lots of dark corners. I had no doubt in my mind that Andy chose the place for my sake. Tony and I arrived twenty minutes late, somewhat breathless and more than a little disheveled. “What took you so long?” Andy said, lifting Monica out of his lap to stand and give each of us a hug. She laughed, but I thought I caught a glint in her eye. “Sorry, man. We had a slight, um, electrical problem,” I said, giving Monica a hug which she returned perfunctorily; then I introduced her to Tony. “Rule of thumb. Always keep fresh batteries in the house,” Tony said as his opening gambit, and he began making cow eyes at Monica. She looked a bit startled. Tony was an equal-opportunity flirt, which is how I met him. It didn’t bother me in the least, as long as it was a girl on the receiving end of those long, batting eyelashes. “Batteries?” She looked more than a little confused.

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“Trust me; you don’t want to know,” Andy said, giving Tony a hairy eyeball and pulling Monica closer. Tony and I looked at each other and laughed like loons. Monica bit her lip, obviously trying to decide if she were the brunt of a joke. Andy kissed her scowl into submission. “Don’t worry about it, baby. My boy here is an outright perv.” “Well, I already knew that!” Monica replied, getting into the swing of things. We laughed and grabbed a booth for the four of us, abandoning the little table that Andy and Monica had occupied while waiting for us to arrive. Tony bought us a couple rounds of shooters right off, saying he wanted to make sure I was well-oiled, and fast. I rolled my eyes and grabbed his crotch under the table. He jolted, and his knees hit the underside, making the glasses jump. “I guess they’re both pervs,” Andy said amiably. Monica stared, wide-eyed, but when Tony had the grace to blush, her face softened. We danced for what seemed like hours, alternately cuddling and grinding depending on the music that pounded out of the speakers. During one of the slower numbers, Tony surfaced from a particularly thorough expedition charting the inner recesses of my mouth and throat.

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Damn, the man could kiss. “They make a good couple, don’t they?” I nodded, pressing my hard-on against Tony’s, making his eyes go all wild and glittery. “Yeah. He really likes her a lot,” I said, watching my best friend and his girl slow-grinding each other on the dance floor. He had his arms around her waist, and his hands were caressing her ass. His face was buried in her neck, and he seemed content to stay that way for a thousand years. Her arms were around his neck in that odd, locked-elbow thing girls sometimes do when they want to seem delicate and demure. The disparity sort of creeped me out. “Not half as much as I like you.” Tony’s dick made an earnest effort to rub its way through my chinos, and I forgot about everything except getting that boy into a dark corner and teaching him all about the meaning of the word “Hoover.” As if he didn’t already know. Andy was right. We were a couple of pervs.

“SO, can you believe it? Direct! We’re gonna be huge!” Andy beamed, although he looked a little glassy-eyed. We had just

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surfaced from our respective corners of the booth after another round of serious face-sucking. Not to mention the other things that feel best only when performed in dark corners with lots of strangers around. None of us were feeling any pain. “That’s just aces, bro. Congratulations again.” I was genuinely happy for him. The world didn’t always treat Andy as well as he treated it, and he’d had more than his share of bumps in the road. “What about that other place?” Monica asked. Her lipstick was all but smeared off her face. “That one with the eyes?” “Google? Naw. I think it’s trying too hard to be hip and cool. It’ll fall on its face before the year is up. I’m betting on it.” The trouble was, he had bet everything on it. Only I didn’t know it at the time. Andy’s shoulders moved, a fair indication that his hands were getting into mischief. Monica’s face flushed, which was an even better indication, and anything else she might have had to say was lost as her eyes went all soft and round and she began to kiss him thoroughly. Tony winked at me, and I grinned, and then we went back to groping and fondling each other. His back was

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against my chest with his head turned to mine so we could kiss. His butt was rubbing against my cock, which was so hard I thought it would break. Every time he wiggled against me I could feel a few more brain cells explode. I had one hand under his shirt and the other in his pants, doing my level best to make sure he kept wiggling by rubbing him off and squeezing his dick hard each time his eyes started to go all soft and round. I was just about ready to drag him into the bathroom when Monica shouted, “Why don’t you two faggots get a room?” It was a pretty stupid thing to say considering the place was just about equally mixed between gay and straight. Thank God the music was loud. I was so startled by her outburst, and at the worst possible time, that I jerked instead of squeezed, and hot sticky cum gushed all over my hand. Tony looked sheepish and tried not to twitch as his orgasm short-circuited his nervous system. I blushed furiously. It had to be obvious even in the dim lighting if the heat in my face was any indicator. “Honestly, Andy. How can you stand to be around this guy?” Jeez. I had no idea girls got so bitchy when they came. Kinda makes me glad I’m gay. Poor Andy. He was sitting bolt upright like he’d been hit

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by a cattle prod. His face was utterly still, and even under the table, I knew his fists were clenched, knuckles white. It was a reaction thing with him. His hands always clenched when he was startled. I hoped to God the stupid cow had sense enough to have waited until his hands were out from under her dress. Or at least, I hoped she was shaved. A nice Brazilian would be safe enough. Maybe. “What did you just say?” Andy’s voice was deadly calm, quiet like the eye of a tornado even in the midst of all that racket. “I mean it, Andy. How can you tolerate that kind of behavior? Do you know what they were doing over there?” “Pretty much the same thing we were doing over here,” he said, his voice still quiet. His shoulder jerked, and she gave a little squeak. I was reasonably certain I had only imagined that wet “pop.” Reasonably. “Pretty much what half the rest of the people in this place are still doing,” he added. Needlessly, I thought. “But isn’t he supposed to be your friend?” Andy slid her off his lap. Not hard, but not exactly gently either. I wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean.

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“Hey, Andy. It’s okay, really. We’ve all had a few too many. It’s cool.” Andy looked at me for a long time. I met his eye, trying to tell him not to sweat it. Just the booze talking. “No. It’s not okay, Nathan.” Crap. He only ever called me Nathan when he was pissed. “I know you are just saying that, but it’s not okay. Not at all.” “Um, Nate?” Christ. I forgot all about Tony. “Yeah, baby. I know. Let’s go take a walk, shall we?” I pulled my hand out of his pants, leaving most of the mess behind, I’m sorry to say. There wasn’t much room to move around in there, even with his fly undone. Tony stood up, tugged his shirt down, and took my cum-covered hand in his to help me up. “Monica, it was a real pleasure to meet you. I’d shake your hand and all, but you know how it is.” He lifted our clasped hands higher. I caught the drip with a napkin. “Besides, I’ve got much more important things to do,” he added before he kissed me.

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Timeless ♥ Patric Michael

WE broke up years ago, Tony and me. We still send e-mails back and forth, but even though we rarely see each other anymore, I will love him forever, for that one simple gesture.

ANDY and Monica broke up a week later, but I had no real idea how upset he had been with the whole thing until, almost a year to the day, I found him on my doorstep, really drunk and really off-key. Andy is a lot of things, but a singer isn’t one of them. “Get your ass in here, will ya? The neighbors are going to call the cops if you don’t shut up.” “Fush the neighbors, and fush you too, come t’ think of it. Ashhole.” “Jesus, Andy. How much have you had to drink?” Click. “And why am I an asshole?” “Cush yer gettin’ sum, an’ I ain’t.” Tony got up as I dragged Andy into the tiny living room and sat him on the couch. Andy sprawled, his legs spread wide, and I did a double take, flashing back hard to the first

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day we had met. “Um, Tony?” “Of course. We’ll take a rain check,” he said, buttoning his shirt. He bent down and kissed the top of Andy’s head. “Want me to make some coffee before I go?” “Ha’ ab’at a beer?” I rolled my eyes. “Yes, please. Coffee. That’d be great.” “Ash. Hol’.” I wasn’t sure if Andy meant me or Tony. His eyes were closed, and he was slumping further. “Look who’s talking,” I said, pulling him more or less upright, and then I headed for the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.” Tony had just flipped the switch on the coffeemaker. He turned to look at me and then nodded toward the living room. “Will he be all right?” “Yeah. He’s done this a few times. He’ll babble for a while, fall asleep, and have one hell of a headache in the morning.” I turned to look at Andy, who gave every appearance of trying to read the TV Guide, upside down. “Although,” I admitted, “I’ve never seen him quite this bad.” Tony put his arms around my waist, pulling me tight to

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his body. “Will you be all right?” “Sure. Why?” I was genuinely puzzled. He didn’t answer, unless grabbing my ass and grinding his dick against mine could be taken as a response. My erection, mostly flagging at that point, surged with renewed vigor. We kissed, none too gently. “Hey! Where’s my beer?” Tony and I separated, wild-eyed and breathless. “Shit. I’m sorry, Tony.” He kissed me again, this time on the forehead. “It’s okay. I should get going anyway.” “Yeah, I know.” I sighed and grabbed a cup, filling it from the pot even as the machine spit out the last few dribbles onto the hot plate to bubble and steam. “I’m really sorry.” “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have expected anything less.” I followed Tony out of the kitchen and set the cup on the sideboard. “Take care, Andy. Or better yet, let Nate take care of you, okay?” Tony said. To me he added, “I’ll see you later, mister,” in a much lower tone of voice, which did absolutely nothing to ease the raging hard-on he’d given me.

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I kissed him and said good night, and I straightened Andy on the couch again. Tony chuckled and picked up his jacket. When he reached the door, he turned. “I love you, Nathan.” The way he said my name made me look at him more closely. There was something I didn’t like hovering around his eyes, and his mouth was set in a line. “I love you too, Tony.” I was about to ask him what was wrong when Andy belched. Loudly. I turned to make sure he wasn’t going to reupholster my couch with whatever he had eaten that night. By the time I turned back to Tony, he was smiling again. He opened the door and paused. “Good night, boys,” he said, closing the door behind him. I think he knew, even back then. “What’s this all about, anyway?” I was sitting beside Andy on the couch, half-turned to look directly at him. “What’s what all about?” Andy’s voice had lost most of that drunken slur, but his eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot, and more than half-closed. Thank God for coffee. “Come off it,” I said. “You hardly ever get this drunk. Why now, tonight?” He stared at me for a long time. Long enough for me to

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wonder if he was seeing three of me and couldn’t decide which one was real. “I thought I loved her, you know?” His voice had taken on a soft wistfulness I didn’t often hear in his usual cheerful banter. “Who, Andy? Who are we talking about?” “Monica.” “Oh.” There had been a couple of others at Andy’s side since then. Playful, good-looking, and personable girls, they had lasted six and four months, respectively. Their relationships ended amicably enough, though with the last one, Cathy, there had been a kind of puzzled hurt in her eyes the last time I had seen her. “I really thought she was the one, you know?” Andy’s voice and face pleaded for understanding. “I know you loved her.” I answered as neutrally as I could. Tony and I still laughed about that night, but sometimes it was strained laughter. “Why didn’t I see it, Nate? Why couldn’t I see the way she felt?” “Probably because you were too busy thinking about how her boobs felt?” I said it as a joke, hoping to distract

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him. I really didn’t like that woman. A flicker of emotion splashed across his face. His eyes filled with tears, and suddenly he began to cry. The only other time I had seen him weep was when his father passed away. After the funeral, Andy and I were sitting in his crappy little apartment on his crappy little couch, drinking beer and staring at nothing while the tears streamed down his face. I hadn’t known his old man all that well, but I knew that he and Andy had been close. Seeing him cry now frightened me just as badly as it had then, and I clutched at him, pulling him against my chest and rocking him, just as I had done then, when the tears became a flood, and he began to sob. “I hated you that night, Nate.” His words were wet and mushy. “I hated you so much. Like it was all your fault.” What could I say? It was my fault in a weird, twisted, hateful way. If I had been straight, just one of the guys, he and Monica would probably be burping the baby and bowling on Thursday nights by now. “I hated myself more, though.” Andy’s admission wrenched my guts and sent a pang of regret through my heart. It echoed all the way back to high school when he had borne all of the teasing and the cruelty on our behalf.

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“Andy, no. Don’t. She just couldn’t see past the mechanics, that’s all. It’s not your fault or mine.” “You don’t get it, Nate. That night, I wished that you and I had never met.” I wanted to shout or hit him or something. I wanted him to feel the fleeting hurt and betrayal I felt right then. I knew I could do none of those things, because none of it was necessary. Holding him was the only option I had, and it wasn’t an option at all, because I loved him too much. “Do you still feel that way, Andy?” I asked, even though I was sure of the answer. Thought I was sure, at least. “No way. It scared me that I could think it at all. How could I regret knowing you, man? I guess I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.” His voice hitched. “Do you hate me for telling you that?” I snorted. “Of course not.” A little hurt, maybe, but I wasn’t saying anything. “I love you, man. You’re the best friend a washed-up, useless guy could have.” I hugged him harder. “I love you too, Andy. Always have, always will.” He sighed at that. All of the deep wrenching sobs had been purged by his admission and my acceptance, although

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he still shuddered occasionally. We sat a while longer, companionable in our silence. “Wait a minute. What do you mean, ‘washed up’? What are you talking about?” “Didn’t I tell you? Direct folded. We’re bust.” I didn’t even have time to react before Andy groaned, doubled over, and reupholstered my couch.

ANDY got back on his feet by creating the Web content he used to catalog. In a process that spanned several years and two near-bankruptcies, he developed Maverick Media, a company that created small and large Web portals for a variety of clientele. By then I had shifted gears in favor of broadcast journalism, anchoring the weekend late-night slots for a local TV station. This meant I was also reporting on a variety of local, topical subjects, including the success of a certain up-and-coming company, informally known to its investors and detractors as Maverick. My producer assigned me the interview, saying, “You guys are friends, so you can get in deep.” “Deep?” I asked, looking over his notes.

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“Yeah. Dig for it, boy. Get the story behind the story.” My producer was a fat, sweaty man who came in handy more than once as a mental visual aid whenever I needed to quell an impending hard-on during an interview. He had given me my first real break in broadcasting, and I liked him, but I sometimes wondered what went on beneath that awful toupee of his. “Andy is a hard worker, that’s all.” “Just about have to be, wouldn’t he? But you dig. Find me something good.” I told him I would try and then left to schedule a camera. Andy agreed to meet my cameraman, Dave, and me, not in his office, which I had expected, but out in the cubes, which housed his workstations, and his small band of merry misfits. “This is where the real magic is,” he had said, waving his hand to encompass a maze of half-height gray fabric walls. All manner of strangeness peered out over the dividers and graced the inner walls: Star Wars figurines, a poster of Albert Einstein, plants, a piñata shaped like a purple elephant, ray guns, and even a life-sized female blow-up doll decorated the area, each according to the individual programmers’ tastes or proclivities. It looked like a geeks’ toy

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store in hell. “Keep it on a tight two shot.” I spoke quietly to Dave. “Kill as much of that… background… as you can.” Dave grinned and nodded. I asked questions, and Andy answered calmly though I could see his usual enthusiasm bubbling beneath the surface, even when some of the questions were more probing than pleasant. I was looking for “deep,” after all. Or rather, I wanted to prove it wasn’t there. I cut the interview at the end, told Andy we would shoot some reverses, and let him watch as Dave reset the camera toward me. I chose a scattering of the same questions, asked them again as though I were still talking to Andy and did my best to ignore the silly faces he made trying to get me to break. I actually did pretty well until that damned blow-up doll appeared over the top of the cube wall we had been shooting against. Its big red plastic O-shaped mouth had a banana jammed into it. “Andy!” I laughed, waving at Dave to kill the camera. “I give. We’ve got enough.” “Love ya, Nate!” Andy was grinning. I found out later that he had planned it ahead of time. Dave and I cut the footage into a nice, informative piece, and it ran during the Friday primetime business reports.

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“YOU know, you don’t look half-bad on TV.” Andy and I were kicked back on his couch, surrounded by the usual “Sunday after the game” debris of beer cans, spilled chips, and the lingering, acrid tang of some really good pot. “Gee. Thanks. I think. You didn’t look too bad, yourself.” Andy always shined when the spotlight was full upon him. “No, I mean it. You didn’t look gay or anything.” “Are you still happy with the way we cut it together?” I ignored the jibe. Coming from Andy it was like sibling rivalry. “It was fine. You did a great job, Nate.” A pause. “Thank you for making me look good.” I snorted. “Like I’ve got anything to do with that. You always look good.” It was an automatic response, automatically spoken. I was thinking about the last beer in the refrigerator. “Not half as good as you do.” What caught my attention was how softly he had said the words. I looked over, saw the blurred expression in his eyes, and wondered if he even knew he was speaking. Andy turned his head to look at me, and I felt something

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jolt and skitter inside. It was a feeling not unlike the disorientation of a mild earthquake, which knocks the plates off the shelves and makes the ground feel spongy under your feet. Andy’s eyes had grown wide and soulful as he turned on the “Adonis begging a cookie” charm. I stared at him, feeling like the natural order of the universe was coming unraveled. “Andy? What….” He belched, blowing beer fumes and peanut breath into my face. His eyes were dancing. “So,” he said. “How about them Bears?”

FOUR years later, I was a full anchor, and Andy was the CEO of Maverick Media, which listed on the stock exchange as MAVK. Our lives drifted apart for a while, but like the planets in their orbits, we’d always drifted back eventually. We’d meet on most of the major holidays and send e-mails back and forth when we couldn’t. He kept tabs on me by watching the news, and I kept track of him by reporting it. We saw each other most during the summers, since that’s when I always took my two weeks. Andy’s options became far more flexible when he stepped down as CEO but retained a position as advisor. “Too much hassle, Nate. All of my guys are gone,

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replaced by a bunch of twenty-year-old stuffed shirts. I swear there isn’t one of them that knows how to laugh.” Andy’s voice sounded flat and tinny, coming through the loudspeaker on my cell phone. I had been going over my notes an hour before broadcast when he had called to shoot the breeze. As I sat at my desk, making notations on my script, I could easily picture him sitting on his back deck, beer in hand, looking for all the world like an out-of-work beach bum. I rather envied his freedom as I sat there scribbling on pink, blue, and yellow pages. I laughed. “We were that young once, Andy.” “Hell, I’m still that young. Not so sure about you.” “What, did you call me just so you could insult me?” “Duh.” I laughed again. “Just wanted to be sure where I stood, that’s all.” “Right beside me, buddy. Best place to be. Which reminds me, my cousin is getting married at the end of June. She asked me if I thought you’d be interested in coming.” “Lyndsey’s getting married? Holy shit. How old is she now?” “Twenty-two.” “Jeez, already? That ought to make you feel old. Is she

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still…?” “Feisty? Of course. Eric’s going to have his hands full with that one.” “Eric being her fiancé, yes?” “Yeah. He’s an even-tempered kid. Pretty mellow, actually.” “I hope he survives.” Andy laughed. “So do I. Do you want to come? They’re doing the three-day thing, so I snagged a week off from babysitting the twenty-somethings.” A week. I could do a week with Andy. “Sure, tell her to send me an invitation. I’d love to come.” “I was kinda hoping you’d say that. I already told her you’d be there for the whole show.” “Bastard. I hope to hell you didn’t make any other promises I can’t keep.” “Well, not exactly.” “What now?” I was getting exasperated. “Nothing bad,” Andy reassured me, probably because of the edge in my voice. “Just that you’d be there for the rehearsal dinner. It’ll probably be casual, since all the fancy stuff comes later.”

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“Um. Okay. I can live with dinner. But quit making promises for me, will you?” “You got it, buddy. Will you be bringing anyone?” “No. There hasn’t been anyone since Tony, and my random dating is pretty much over now.” “Why? You’re out to your adoring public. What’s the big deal?” “Yeah, and because I am out, my life gets scrutinized with a magnifying glass.” Since I had pretty much lost all anonymity when I started showing up in millions of households every night, I couldn’t exactly be picking up random strangers, even if I had wanted them. “That sucks.” Actually it didn’t, but somehow, I didn’t think he would understand. “It’s no big deal. Anyway, I have to run. My producer is giving me ‘The Look’.” “All right. I’ll have your plane tickets sent over next week. Everything else will already be reserved in your name.” “Andy—” I started to say, but he interrupted me. “Least I could do, Nate, since I was the one that answered for you.”

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I laughed. “You’re damn straight it is.” “Ciao, baby!” A week with Andy. I could hardly wait.

MY plane landed three days before the wedding, and I rented a car to get to the hotel. I called Andy when I checked in, asking if he wanted to meet up for dinner. He said he had some things to finish up first, but that we could probably meet up later. I agreed that would be fine, careful not to sound disappointed. I changed and went down to the lobby to ask the concierge for recommendations. He was younger than I, and vaguely handsome, but he wore the carefully cultured expression of detached enthusiasm common to every concierge I had ever met. I wondered if they went to school to learn that particular face. His detachment became a genuine smile, however, when I asked for a restaurant. “Do you mean other than our own five-star?” Humor danced in his eyes and twitched the corners of his mouth. I thought the expression was rather cute. “Yes. I’d like to stretch my legs a little, you know?” “Yes, of course, sir. Do you have a preference?”

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“Meat is good.” I grinned, feeling foolish. I had ten years on the guy, at least. “An excellent choice, sir. These are within walking distance when the weather is good.” He circled a couple of places on a walking map and handed it to me. “I do hope you will find the time to see what we have to offer during your stay.” The tip of one finger rested just that tiny bit longer than necessary against the back of my hand as I took the map. Well now. Things were looking up after all.

I

SLEPT in the following day, feeling deliciously lazy as I

dozed. It was a rare treat for me, made even more precious once I started doing primetime. The common misconception among viewers is that news anchors drift in to the studio around 4:00 p.m., eat bagels while we sit around getting our hair done, shoot the broadcast at 6:00 p.m., and go home. Reality couldn’t be further from the truth, and to sleep in until 9:00 a.m. was a pure treat. I would like to have slept even longer, especially after I had been prowling the bars into the small hours, but Andy called, ostensibly to apologize for not calling the night before. I groaned, pulling the pillow over my head. “Don’t worry

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about it, Andy. I managed to keep myself entertained.” “Oho! You tramp. Any details you’d care to share?” “Nope. Nothing that would interest you, at any rate.” Let him stew over that for leaving me to my own devices. “Aww. Spoilsport.” “Me? When was the last time you had any details to share, huh?” I stretched and yawned. It didn’t seem likely that I would be getting back to sleep. After a moment, I realized he hadn’t answered me. “Andy? Are you still there?” “Yeah. I was just trying to decide if I had anything worth sharing. Sorry.” “Okay. Well, we should see if we can get into any mischief. This is one half of my vacation, and I intend to make the most of it.” Andy agreed and picked me up two hours later, banging on my door with much the same disregard as when we shared a dorm. We spent the day exploring the city, each of us with different reasons to be grateful for the time off and each other’s company. I’m not the least bit ashamed to say that spending time together felt a lot like coming home. That feeling alone should have been enough of a warning.

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ANDY and I split up late in the afternoon so he could attend the rehearsal. We agreed to meet in the lobby since the dinner afterward was in one of the hotel’s many banquet rooms. “It should start around 7:00, but come whenever you’re ready. It’s buffet, so no rush.” I told him I’d be there, thinking I could catch a short nap until then. I had forgotten just how exhausting Andy could be when he was on a roll. Unfortunately, I got a call from one of the producers at the station, wanting to know why I hadn’t filed an interview that was scheduled to run while I was away. “I gave it to editing to clean up the audio,” I said, more annoyed than I should have been. I didn’t like his tone. “Check with Ben.” “He called in sick.” “Did you check the footage rolls? It wouldn’t have taken this long to clean, and he always logs his work.” I could hear him typing on his keyboard for a few moments, then silence. “Fuck.” Just the tone of his voice told me he had found what was there all along.

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“Yes,” I agreed. “Yeah, well. Thanks. Have a good vacation.” “I’m off to a great start,” I said, clapping my phone closed. The call had left me feeling distinctly pissed, which meant sleep was out of the question, so I went downstairs searching for a distraction. The almost handsome concierge greeted me with a sardonic smile as I crossed the lobby. “Are you enjoying your stay, sir?” He spoke with the same detachment I had noted earlier, but there was a slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He signed something on a clipboard, handed it to a bellhop, and turned his full attention to me. All of a sudden, his too long nose, which originally made him look hawkish, now took on an air of authority. His chin, which I originally saw as too strong, now made him look decisive and commanding. “Yes, thank you.” “And have you considered sampling our cuisine?” Such a simple question on the surface, and so fraught with meaning. “As a matter of fact, yes.” I was startled to realize that it was true. The crinkle around his eyes deepened, and a small smile

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played across his lips, making them seem fuller and more inviting. “Excellent, sir. I do hope you will allow me to personalize your experience.” And there it was. The point where friendly flirting crossed the line into deeper territory. He reached for my hand with the pretense of shaking it, no doubt ever mindful of the security cameras and charges of impropriety, but when our palms met, I suddenly felt cold all over. He must have seen the change, maybe felt my hands stiffen in his, because the smile fell from his face, replaced by confusion. “You aren’t interested?” The propriety was gone, the cameras forgotten. In that moment he looked very young, and very vulnerable. “Yes, I am. I was. I don’t know….” I stammered, unable to reconcile the sharp stab of dread I had felt when we shook hands. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.” “Oh. Okay.” He made a visible effort to curb his disappointment. “I’m really, very sorry.” “It’s quite all right, sir. Will there be anything else?” Ouch. I deserved that. “No, thank you,” I mumbled, heading for the revolving

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doors. I felt like kicking myself through them.

I

WALKED along the street feeling confused and frightened

and very much alone despite the press of people around me. I paid no attention to them, nor to the darkness, which descended like a cloak. I did not understand what had happened in the lobby, nor did I understand why. He was certainly nice enough. Maybe not the cutest guy I had ever played with, but…. Played. Was that it? Was I just tired of the casual dates that punctuated my social life to that point? I wasn’t sure, but it felt right. I suddenly wished for Andy. Longed for him with an intensity that made my stomach cramp from the sheer weight of it. Andy would tease me, make me laugh, keep me from thinking. I wanted to wrap his vitality around me like a blanket and simply hide beneath the cover of our long friendship. I stopped suddenly, barely registering the woman bumping into me and muttering as she pushed past. I checked my watch and saw it was well after seven o’clock. I turned around and fought my way upstream through the crowded street until I could slip into the foot traffic headed the other way. I made it back to the hotel just before eight.

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The concierge was gone, and I felt a stab of remorse at seeing the white-haired gentleman who had taken his place, as I crossed the lobby to enter the banquet room where Andy, and my sense of balance, waited.

IT was Lyndsey who spotted me first, nudging her cousin to look in my direction. Andy’s face lit up, and he excused himself to come drag me back to the table where he had been sitting. “Nate. I was starting to worry. Are you all right?” “Yeah. I just had some thinking to do.” I was touched by the genuine concern in his voice. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” I patted my pocket, only then realizing I had left it behind. “It’s in my room. I didn’t think I’d be gone so long.” Andy studied my face. “Oh. Well take it with you next time. I’d hate to lose you now.” Lyndsey stood up as we approached, Eric right behind her. She gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek and then introduced me to her fiancé.

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We made the usual pleasantries and the usual small talk as we ate. Me, catching up with Lyndsey since I had last seen her three years ago, and her begging for station gossip. I caught Andy rolling his eyes behind her back, and I grinned. “No, really. There’s nothing to gossip about, I swear. It’s not like we’re a movie studio with big-name stars wandering about.” Lyndsey seemed disappointed, so I relented. “I did do an interview with the group No Doubt when they were on tour.” “Yeah? But they’re so yesterday.” Well, that put me in my place, didn’t it? “Sorry, honey. I’m just too old to keep up, I guess.” She quirked an eyebrow at that, looking at Andy, who shrugged and turned to me. “Glad to see you’re finally admitting it.” I glared at him as if to say, “Look who’s talking,” but kept my mouth shut. Best not to give him any ammunition, even though I was secretly delighted. It was his way of cheering me up.

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AS the evening wound down and the dessert dishes were cleared, a DJ began setting up in a small booth off to the side. I still felt at odds with myself despite Andy’s constant teasing, which was actually becoming tiresome. I excused myself to check out the bar, asking if anyone else wanted anything. They declined, so I wandered a bit, trying to clear my head and wondering if the concierge from this afternoon had gone home alone. Some of the hotel staff began moving tables off the dance floor, and several people nodded and smiled as I passed them on my way to the bar. I wondered if they recognized me and fervently hoped they did not. The bar was self-serve, offering a variety of wines and beer. I was pouring myself a glass of red when I felt someone tap my shoulder. Wrapped in my own thoughts, I damn near dropped the thing in surprise. “Don’t look now, but someone is watching.” “Jeez, Andy, you scared the life out of me. Don’t do that.” Andy picked up the bottle of wine I had chosen, read the label, and set it down. “Sorry, Nate. I just wanted to draw your attention to a fan, I think.” I glared at him and then turned in the direction of his rather blatant nod. She smiled coyly at me from across the room. Huge,

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luminous green eyes dominated a gently curving face of near classic proportions. Her skin was pure cream on alabaster perfection, and her lips were full, sensuous, and red. Her forest green velvet dress was low-cut and slit halfway to tomorrow. I raised my drink briefly in her direction, smiled faintly, and turned back to Andy. “Eew! Really?” Andy laughed. “You don’t think so?” “For you, maybe. You like all that plastic and paint. I don’t.” “It isn’t me she wants. She’s been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes, so I thought I’d lend a hand.” “Asshole.” “Yep.” Andy laughed. “You’d better think of something fast. Here she comes.” I looked, and sure enough, she was weaving her way through the scattered tables and chairs. The look on her face was almost predatory. I set down my drink, wiped my palms on my thighs, and searched for an escape. Then I thought of something.

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“Andy….” He turned to look at me, his grin widening even further as she approached. Those damned dimples seemed to tunnel straight through his cheeks. I grabbed his face in both hands, pulled his head to mine, and kissed him. Hard. “Why don’t you two get a room?” Miss Green Dress almost snarled when she realized she had been played. I barely heard her. Rather than fighting me or squirming as I expected, Andy wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into my kiss. His full, pliant lips latched onto mine eagerly, crushingly as he spread his legs and pulled my body tightly to his. When I felt the long, solid iron of his cock pressing against my hip, I jerked back, crying out in surprise, and—yes, I admit it—fear. “What the fuck are you doing, Andy?” “Hey, you started it.” He grinned from ear to ear. “Well, I sure as hell didn’t expect you to finish it!” I was confused and more than a little frightened by his reaction, and mine. Andy’s grin faltered, then fell away, leaving him looking somehow bereft. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, but would you excuse us, Miss? My friend and I need to have a little talk.”

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Miss Green Dress made a rather unladylike snort and spun on her heels. As I watched her go, I noticed we had attracted some attention. Lyndsey peered at us from behind Eric’s shoulder, grinning. Everyone else just stared. Andy grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the exit. I jerked it free. “Where are we going?” “God, you really are angry, aren’t you.” Andy ran a tentative hand down my arm. “I’m sorry, Nate. I really am, but please, can we just talk for a bit?” I let him grasp my hand again. “About what?” “About us,” he said, pulling me toward the door. “There is no ‘us’. Never has been,” I muttered, letting him lead me. Andy pulled me through the lobby and into the lounge. He hesitated for a moment and then headed for a softly lit booth, still dragging me by the hand. By then all I felt was a kind of muted dread, which settled in my stomach like lead. I sat down heavily. He put the circular table between us when he sat. “Andy, what’s this all about? What’s going on?” Andy took my hand. I tensed, but he held on with both of his until I relaxed. “I don’t really know, Nate. Something

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that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and I guess it all came to the surface when you kissed me.” He turned my hand and stared at my empty palm for a long time. “What, Andy? You scared the shit out of me, so spill it.” Andy began to trace the lines in my palm with the tip of one finger. “I’ve been thinking about you. Maybe us.” I jerked my hand away, again, and glared at him. I couldn’t help it. “Fuck, Nathan. I thought the straight guy was the one who is supposed to get all pissy when some dude hits on him. What’s with you?” His eyes were hard, angry, and probably a little hurt as well. He had a point. Ever since my freshman year in college, I hadn’t been exactly shy about tumbling guys in and out of my bed. But this is my best friend we were talking about. My best, straight, friend. “Me? What’s with you? For all these years you’ve been banging anything with a skirt, and now all of a sudden you are kissing me and liking it?” The memory of his cock, hard and throbbing against my leg, made me shiver. “Yeah. I liked it.” Andy’s voice lost its angry buzz, and his eyes softened. He stared down at his hands.

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My own anger cooled considerably just seeing how his eyebrows furled in confusion. “Hey, I’m sorry, Andy. You just startled me, you know? You are the last person I ever thought would be bi-curious.” He laughed bitterly. “That’s the problem, Nate. I’ve never exactly been curious.” “How much have you had to drink?” The question was harsh, but nothing he had been saying to me made any sense. Andy started, thought better of it, and settled back with a sigh. “No, Nate. I’m not a six-pack queer.” He picked up the salt shaker, shook some out onto the table, and drew designs in the crystals. He took a deep breath and let it out. “That much I am sure of, at least.” He wouldn’t look at me. I watched him push the tiny white crystals into a pile and spread them out again. The last of my shock slipped away, and I was able to take a closer look at everything he had said to me so far. A thought occurred to me. “How long, Andy?” I asked softly. “Since the first day we met.” He still didn’t look up. Oh. My. God. That long? He looked at me finally, and any anger or fear I might

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have been feeling evaporated in the crystal-clear pain in his eyes. “Andy… I had no idea.” “Of course not. As you said, ‘banging everything with a skirt’, right?” I nodded dumbly, speechless. I made my living by talking, and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Andy smiled sadly. “I always figured it was just teenage hormones, something I would grow out of eventually. But when I walked into that classroom and saw you chewing on your lip, everything clicked. I wanted you so badly that day.” His voice trailed off, his eyes glittering in the dim light. He scooped the spilled salt into the palm of his hand and tossed it over his shoulder. “Just in case,” he said. We both looked up as Lyndsey approached our table. She sat down beside Andy and nudged him over. “Did you tell him yet?” Her expressive face was alive with curiosity. “Yeah, I told him.” brightening considerably.

Andy

smiled,

his

own

face

I felt like I had been sideswiped by a Mack truck. “You knew about this?” “Of course.” She said it so blandly that I stared, hard, starting to feel angry all over again. “Since last night at

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least,” she amended. “We talked while you were out romping around.” “Oh.” I blushed, annoyed with myself for doing it. “So? What did he say?” The brat ignored me like I wasn’t even there. “Hey, how come you talked to her and not me?” “Because you were the one I wanted to talk about.” “Uh, yeah. Right.” Lyndsey rolled her eyes. She was the only woman I knew who could do that with her whole body and not make it look childish. “I told Eric I was just going to the bathroom so I can’t stay.” She stood, tugging her sweater into place. “But talk to him, will you? Please?” She looked at me pointedly. Probably plotting some kind of mayhem if I disagreed. “Of course. I just wish someone could have given me some advance warning. This is all a little sudden to take in.” “Not for him, it’s not.” “Lyndsey….” Andy warned. “Oh, I know. You didn’t exactly advertise the fact, did you?” She punched him on the shoulder. “Just talk, both of you.” She didn’t wait for a reply. We both watched her leave. “God, I love that girl.” Andy’s eyes were bright.

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I was thinking exactly the same thing.

BY the time the waitress cleared the third round of drinks we had ordered, Andy and I were sitting side-by-side, reminiscing and feeling pretty good about the world in general. Eric and Lyndsey both had come by, wrapped around each other as usual, to remind us when to be at the church. “And don’t stay out all night drinking.” Lyndsey scolded us both but fixed her glare on Andy. “I don’t want you groaning and muttering all day because you’re hung over.” “Yes, ma’am!” Andy said, laughing. I had an irrational urge to kiss his cheek so I could poke my tongue into one of those dimples. It was something I had thought of from time to time but had never really thought about, until now. Lyndsey’s gaze shifted between us, back and forth like she was watching a really good tennis match. “And keep talking!” She dodged Eric’s attempt to nibble on her ear and pulled him away. Silvery peals of her laughter drifted back. “She’s not going to be satisfied until we’re draped all over each other, is she?” “No. Probably not,” Andy agreed. “That’s not such a bad idea, you know.”

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Andy turned my face to his. I could feel the strength of his hand on my cheek, and it gave me a thrill that ran straight down my spine. He leaned in and kissed me, tentative at first, but when I didn’t resist, his lips became more enthusiastic and inquisitive. I was just as inquisitive, testing his boundaries with my tongue, which he accepted eagerly. We were just getting into some really deep kissing when he pulled away. His eyes almost seemed to whirl with excitement. “Come with me. If we get started like that again, I won’t be able to stop, and I do not want to explain to Lyn that I missed her wedding because I’d been arrested for indecency.” I nodded, conjuring images of my first producer without a shirt so I could stand up without embarrassing us both. Andy threw some money on the table and all but dragged me through the hotel lobby and into an elevator. I held him back when he reached for the buttons. “No, wait,” I said, making a selection. “My room. I’m probably better prepared than you are.” “Um, yeah. Good point.” He began kissing me even before the doors were fully closed. Andy and I were still kissing when we reached the fifth floor. The doors opened, and we fell out into the hall, laughing and groping and breathing hard, which earned us an annoyed “Hrmph!” from

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some blue-haired old lady walking toward us with a truly homely chihuahua in her arms. We managed to put on a straight face until she passed and then bolted down the hall to my room, laughing like kids. It took several frustrating tries to get the damned mag card to unlock the door. Having Andy bumping and grinding against my ass did nothing to help, either. When I finally got the green light, he was pushing against me so hard that the door slammed open, hitting the wall and sounding like a rifle shot. “Wait. Wait!” I said, pushing away from him and trying to catch my breath. The door eased silently shut behind me, apparently none the worse for wear. “What?” Andy took a step forward, reaching for me. I took a step back. “Andy, stop for a minute.” I held him at arm’s length. “Are you absolutely sure we want to do this?” He nodded, his eyes wide. “No, really, Andy. We have to be sure, because I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship simply because we were overcome with lust.” I tried very hard to ignore the way my dick was throbbing. Andy stopped pushing against my outstretched hands. He took a step back, locking his gaze on mine.

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“Nathan.” It was the first time I had ever heard him say my full name without anger to drive it. Instead there seemed to be only pure desire, and the sound of it filled me with wonder. “I have wanted you since I was seventeen and couldn’t have you because I was too scared or too stupid to allow anyone else to find out, including you. I have never stopped wanting you, and if I walked out that door right this minute, nothing will have changed for me. So unless your feelings for me are different now that you know, our friendship will remain as it has always been, regardless of what happens next.” A complex splash of emotions informed Andy’s face, making his eyes smolder and his voice thick. Seeing him stand there, an older, wiser, slightly more serious version of the boy I had met so long ago, shattered the last of my resolve. In that moment, I understood with perfect clarity that the fear I had felt earlier that evening was nothing more than a carefully contrived mask; a way for me to hide my intense desire for the golden-haired god who, over the years, became a golden-haired man and therefore something within my ability to obtain. “Ah, shit. Do you have any idea how much I love you, Andy? How much I have always loved you?” My legs were weak, and I stumbled as I reached for him. He caught me in

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his arms. “I very sincerely hope you will show me, Nathan.” I clung to his body, held him as though he would evaporate at any moment, and felt his thudding heart beat against my chest. Everything else seemed to… not exactly fade, but diminish, as though the room, the hotel, the entire world lost its ability to command my attention, leaving the sound of Andy’s heartbeat and the feel of his arms around me as the only tangible things that existed. Gradually, sensations began to impress themselves on my awareness. Andy’s voice whispering in my ear was the first. “Nathan? Are you all right? Nate?” He pulled me over to the bed, and we sat down, each of us still holding the other. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. Probably because I didn’t seem to have any pesky bones in my body to get in the way. Except one. I took a deep, shuddery breath, as though I had been crying for hours. I relaxed my grip so I could look at him. Andy ran his fingers through my hair, brushing the bangs from my face. “Jeez, baby. What happened? Are you all right?” I nodded, my eyes locked to his, unwavering. “Yeah. I’m fine. I was just a little… um, overwhelmed, I guess. I never

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really allowed myself to acknowledge just how much I wanted you. It’s too damned easy to get hurt if you fall in love with a straight boy, so I built walls. I guess I got caught in the flood when they broke.” “Yeah. Kinda like when you kissed me. I felt the same way.” He grinned. “Only I didn’t go all weak-kneed and girly.” And just like that, in the wash of his endless jibes, my legs stopped shaking, and the world reasserted itself again. Only this time, the world included an Andy who I could love freely. After we set a few things straight. “Girly? Girly!” I stood, turning to face him as I glared. “I’ll have you know it takes a real man to take it up the ass.” I pushed him backward to sprawl across the bed. He scooted back until his legs cleared the floor. I climbed on after him and began knee-walking up the length of his body until I was straddled across his hips. Then I sat down, hard. Andy’s grin became a dazzling, dimpled smile, once he could breathe again. “Well, I hope I am man enough to handle you.” I began to unbutton my shirt. “You’d better be, or else you aren’t going to survive the weekend.” “Oh shit.” Andy watched, fascinated as I took my time unbuttoning

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my shirt. He tried to help, but I batted his hands away. “You just lie there, mister. I’ll show you ‘girly’.” He nodded, grinning, and spread his arms wide. When I got to the last button, instead of taking off my shirt, I started on his, still taking my time. I had to lean forward to reach the first two buttons, and when I did so, Andy gasped as the weight on his cock disappeared. He gasped harder when I sat back down, crushing it against my butt. I made it a point to squirm a little if I felt his attention starting to drift. “Nathan.” “Yes? Is there a problem?” Andy groaned. A low, throaty sound that made my heart race. “I’m dying here.” “Yes. I do believe I made mention of that possibility.” “Please, Nathan. I need to touch you.” “No. You made me wait all these years, so now you are going to have to wait.” “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Please?” “Nope. No begging. Just lie there like a good boy.” I had finished the last button, and I leaned forward again to spread his shirt wide. I slid my hands behind his back and

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pulled him upright as I leaned back. I slipped his shirt off and tossed it aside. He reached for mine, but I pushed him away. “I said no touching.” “Ah, fuck.” “Not yet. That comes later.” I wiggled my butt and felt his cock surge. “Maybe sooner than later,” I said. I spread my hands wide across his chest, grabbing a handful of muscle in each, and squeezed. I was rewarded with a low growl as I worked my way down, muscle by muscle until I reached his navel. The even scatter of coarse hair beneath my palms felt like heaven. “You did well, Andy. You should get a reward for being a good boy.” I took his hands and placed them on my thighs, sliding them up to my hips and then back down to my knees. “That’s your territory until I say otherwise.” He pouted. “That’s all?” “That’s all for now.” I grinned. I slid the palms of my hands down his arms from shoulder to wrist, feeling his muscles shift and slide beneath his skin as he stroked and squeezed my legs. I shifted down his body to sit on his thighs, which gave him considerably less territory.

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“Hey, that’s not fair!” He protested until he understood why I had moved. Tugging at the buttons of his slacks stilled his protests immediately. I pulled the zipper down and opened the flaps of fabric. “Hey, what happened to the boxers guy I used to know?” Andy was wearing heather-gray boxer briefs. The stretchy fabric outlined his dick, leaving nothing to the imagination regarding his size. I couldn’t think of the last time I had seen him hard. “Times change, I guess.” Andy was still holding on to my knees. “Change is good,” I said as I got off the bed long enough to strip us both, staring at his dick the whole time with single-minded fascination. I climbed back on the bed, running light kisses along the inside of his legs until I reached his balls. Andy moaned and buried his fingers in my hair. I was too entranced with the sounds he was making to chastise him for his lapse. “Oh God! Nathan!” I lifted my head to catch and hold his eyes. “No, baby. Not God, but I guarantee it’ll feel like heaven.” I buried my face in his balls, sucking first one and then the other into my mouth to roll them with my tongue,

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delighted with the way Andy’s body twitched and jerked. “Oh God, Nathan!” I laughed, grabbing the base of his shaft and squeezing experimentally. “I notice you keep saying that.” “You’re the wordsmith, not… aaah!” Poor guy. It’s rather difficult to be coherent when someone is sucking on your dick. I took him deeper into my mouth, digging the tip of my tongue into his slit before tracing the edges of his wide, flaring head. I felt him struggle to sit up, and I pushed him back down. “Mine,” I said, and I took him the rest of the way in a single motion, down to the base of his cock, swallowing at the back of my throat to get as much of him as I could. With my nose buried in his burnished gold curls, I could smell the sharp tang of his scent, and it made me lightheaded with desire. I worked his cock up and down, sealing my lips around his dick and sucking hard. My tongue seemed to have a will of its own as it flattened around the underside of his shaft and lapped upward until it reached that tiny wedge just beneath the head that held so much potential for pleasure. The tip of my tongue dove for the spot, lashing back and forth while my hand rode up and down his shaft. “Nathan, stop! I’m gonna come!”

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I lifted my head, releasing his cock to slam back against his stomach. I took it into my hand instead, cradling it and making it stand straight out, long and thick, from the flat plane of his belly. I felt myself shudder with anticipation. “Andy, I get tested every month, and I’m clean.” I hesitated. “Umm. Do we need condoms?” “No, baby. Like I said, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. They’ve been swabbing me like clockwork since December. I’m good to go if you want me.” “Want you? I want to ride you so bad right now I’m liable to come even before I get the lube open.” “Nathan, really? You’d do that for me?” “No, asshole, I’ll do it for me at least a dozen times. Then maybe I’ll do it for you.” “All in one weekend?” I thought Andy sounded just a little nervous. “No, probably not,” I admitted. “But if you are a good boy, I might be willing to stretch things out a little.” His voice was thick, broken in his eagerness. “Where’s the lube?” I nodded to the side table, and I had a momentary, exquisite, glorious view of his ass as he twisted to pull the drawer open.

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“Maybe stretch things out a lot.” I was wondering how long it would take me to prepare that virgin hole of his. He caught me looking and grinned. “I’d like that a lot, Nathan.” The way he said my name was so sexy to me, I damn near came right there. Oh, man…. Fat sweaty guy with no shirt. Fat sweaty guy with no shirt…. “Give me the lube, quick.” I held out my hand, and Andy slapped the tube into my palm with all the precision of a surgeon. I made a show of it as I slicked my hole, and by the glazed longing in his eyes I’d say he enjoyed it. I poured a little more into my palm, warmed it, and then slathered his cock up and down in long, slow strokes. “Are you ready, baby?” “Oh, fuck yes. Right now!” I straddled his hips, positioning myself over his straining dick. “Good, because I’m going to make you see stars.” I showed him the angle I needed for him to hold his cock, and then I leaned forward, made an adjustment, and sat back slowly, easing myself down onto his thick shaft.

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When I had my full weight resting on his hips and him buried as deep in my ass as he could go, I flexed in all the right places, making him cry out. “That’s my baby,” I said, leaning forward and squirming, just a little. I sat back again, a little faster, letting him guide me to his rhythm by the sounds he made. When I found it, I began to fuck him in earnest. Andy grabbed my thighs, his fingers kneading the muscles hard enough to hurt, but it was a fleeting pain, quickly forgotten in the waves of pleasure spreading throughout my body. I leaned forward and put my hands flat on his chest. “Bring your knees up, Andy.” He did, until I could feel the tops of his thighs pressing against my butt. “Good, baby. Now you fuck me.” Andy planted his heels and began to move, tilting his hips and driving his cock in and out of my ass until I began to moan. I leaned back, using his thighs to brace against as I matched my movements to his. The added tilt slammed his dick into my gland over and over, and I began to see the stars I had promised him. Andy’s breathing became a series of primal grunts and gasps as he slammed in and out of my ass. My own

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breathing was more than a little ragged, and I knew I was close, so I grabbed his hand and wrapped it around my cock. “Do me, baby. Just like you were doing yourself. And look at me. I want to see your face when you come.” He grinned at me, traded hands, and began to stroke me. I rocked back and forth between his fist and his hips, milking his cock with the fevered throbbing of my hole. Andy’s body began to jerk, and I could feel his dick swell even larger, deep inside me. His hands clenched, knuckle white, when he came. The sudden hard pressure around my dick slammed me over the edge, and I followed him, riding an almost overwhelming wave of pure pleasure as I gushed thick white ropes all over his chest. My body went limp, and I slumped, still pinned to my best friend by his flagging erection. I eased myself off his hips and stared with wide-eyed fascination as Andy wiped a drop of cum off his cheek and into his mouth. I kissed him, tasting a part of me on his lips and tongue, and draped myself possessively across his body. “Oh, Andy. You were a very good boy.”

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Andy and I had been dozing, sated and exhausted after a few hours of extended, personal introduction to the joys of hot, sweaty man-sex. We hadn’t yet gotten to the point where he was riding me, but by the way he panted and moaned when I taught him the real meaning of being rimmed, it was going to be one wild ride when he did. “Hmm?” “I guess I don’t get it. You had your shit together from the very beginning, so why aren’t you living with some cutie and planning your retirement together?” Our bodies were quite thoroughly entangled, but I managed to get one hand free to tease his balls and work a finger into his crack. “I don’t know, baby. I guess I never found the right guy.” I pressed my fingertip against his hole. Andy’s breath caught, and he clamped his thighs around my hand. I laughed and pulled free. “Just a reminder, baby.” “God, I hope so.” I slid my hand around his back and held on, sighing as I snuggled my face into the crook of his neck. We lay like that for a long while, content with the simplicity of contact and the silence of our breathing.

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“You should find someone, Nathan. You deserve it.” Andy spoke softly into my hair. “I think I have,” I sighed. I felt his body stiffen, but I barely had time to register the fact before sleep claimed me. We woke to the sound of my room phone chirping stridently. Andy groaned and batted at it, catching the handset and jammed it against his ear. “Yes. Thank you.” He dropped the phone back into its cradle. “Shit. This isn’t my room. I just answered your wakeup call.” I laughed. “It’s fine. They’re recorded, anyways.” I stretched and yawned, turning my head away from his. Andy rolled onto his side and looked at me. His eyes seemed troubled for a moment and then he grinned. “Thank you, Nathan.” He trailed his fingers through my hair, smiling. I smiled back, wondering how anyone could look so damn good first thing in the morning. “For what?” He didn’t answer except to stroke my hair. I have always adored that feeling, and I sighed blissfully. After a few moments of pure heaven, I opened my eyes. “Are you okay? Any regrets?” “Absolutely not,” was his immediate reply.

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“Are you sure?” I asked as I climbed back on top of him, grinning like a cat. He hesitated. “Well, just one, I guess.” I froze, waiting to see if he would elaborate. “We should probably get dressed. Lyn will strangle us both if we’re late.” “We’ve got time, Andy. I always get up early.” I could feel something cold and heavy sink into my chest. He nodded, kissing my forehead gently before tucking my head back under his chin. I pulled away, propping myself on one elbow. “What? What do you regret? Tell me.” I guess Andy was right. I did sound a bit girly. He looked at me, searching my face, and he had to have seen the fear plainly written there. “Oh, no, Nathan. I don’t regret us. Not at all. It’s just—” “What?!” “Do you remember the day we graduated, and you asked me why I put up with you?” “It was a few days before, but yeah?” “I almost told you then. I wanted to. God, how I wanted

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to kiss you right there in front of everybody.” He pulled me back down onto his chest, and again I could hear his heart pound beneath my ear. “I wish I were braver back then. We wouldn’t have lost so much time.” “Oh.” I’d been trying very hard not to think of that. “We have plenty of time ahead of us.” “Do we? You’re not getting any younger, you know.” I jerked my head up at that, outraged. “Me? What about you? You’re…. You…. We’re the same age!” Andy’s eyes sparkled. He had gotten me. Again. “Oh, you bastard!” I shouted, digging my fingers into his sides, finding all the ticklish places I had discovered last night. He laughed and rolled on top of me, pinning me easily. “Yes, I am.” We finally separated, still laughing, but only after I convinced him I had to pee, and right now. “Besides, now we really will be late if we don’t hurry.” “Meet me in the lobby in an hour, okay? Maybe we can ride over together.” “I’d like that very much.” “Good,” he said as he plucked his underwear off the floor and looked at it. “Um. Maybe not.”

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I laughed. “Leave that stuff here. You can get it later. I’ve got clean in my suitcase if you want to borrow anything.” “I’m good, thanks.” Andy zipped his pants, and I couldn’t help but notice how his soft cock pushed against the pleats of his slacks. “Watch out for the dog lady. She’s liable to ravish you if she sees that.” “Uh-uh. You’re the only one who gets to ravish me. She can just lust from afar.” I pulled him close even though he was still an arm shy of getting his shirt on. “I love you, Andy.” “I love you too, baby. But if I don’t get out of here Lyndsey really will kill me.” “Yeah, I know. Go.” I swatted his ass and pushed him toward the door. He laughed, sliding his other arm into its sleeve and buttoning his shirt. “Lobby. One hour. Don’t make me come looking for you.” “I’ll be there,” I said, and then I dove out of sight when he threw the door wide open. It closed quietly, cutting off the

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sound of his laughter.

ST. Stephen’s Church was an immense, arched cathedral. The bright summer sunlight shivered into a riot of colors as it beat down through the ancient stained glass. Andy squeezed the hand he had been holding ever since I got into the car, and the driver left the hotel. “I’ll meet up with you shortly,” he said, handing me off to an usher. I nodded and watched him disappear behind a side door off of the main foyer, his garment bag draped over his arm. “Right this way, sir.” The kid couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, and I grinned in spite of myself, thinking of another kid with honey-gold curls so long ago. The usher seated me on the bride’s side, about six rows from the front. Eric was standing one step below the altar, dressed in a tuxedo of dark green on black. I thought he looked a little pale around the edges, but he was smiling and chatting amiably with his groomsmen. Opposite the minister, the bridesmaids were ranged along the steps, each wearing long, multi-layered dresses of cream and gold linen. Huge candelabras illuminated large arrangements of daffodils and tiger lilies accented with white Casablancas. The overall

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effect was spectacular. The organist played the usual selection of “hurry up and wait” music, which somehow only accented the soft murmuring of the other guests rather than masking it. When she segued smoothly into the wedding march, I turned toward the back of the church, right along with everyone else. The doors opened, and I felt my heart lurch in my chest. Lyndsey’s gown wasn’t satin as I had expected, but made of the same fine linen as the bridesmaids’ dresses. Unlike her ladies-in-waiting, however, her dress was strapless and corseted, accented with lace and tiny seed pearls. As she started down the aisle, her train stretched out behind her like a softly glowing cascade of cream, yellow, and gold. As beautiful as she was, however, it was Andy standing beside her that started my heart racing. His tuxedo was likewise brown and gold, but of much darker shades that accented her dress, rather than competing with it. The suit was tailored to perfection, emphasizing his wide shoulders and still narrow hips. Lyndsey’s arm was linked with his; her hand tucked shyly beneath his much larger one as they moved down the aisle in that halting procession that is the staple of cathedral weddings. Shimmers of color from the stained glass danced

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across their faces, giving them both a lambent, unearthly glow. Andy winked at me as they passed, and I smiled broadly back at him. He looked so formal and reserved, but the mischief that was his trademark danced in his eyes. Eric descended the steps as the music faded. “Who gives this woman’s hand in marriage, and to whom?” The minister’s voice was a deep baritone that echoed in the rafters. “I give this woman, who is my daughter in all but name, to this man.” Andy’s voice rang with emotion as he took Eric’s hand and drew the couple together. He stood back, allowing Eric to lead his bride up the steps and into their future. “Andy, that was beautiful,” I said as he sat down beside me. “Her father would have been proud.” He smiled happily, making no attempt to hide the misty shine in his eyes. “Thank you.” I took his hand as we listened to the vows. He seemed startled at first, but relaxed soon enough and squeezed my hand gently. When the minister presented the newlyweds to us, he slipped his hand from mine and stood up. Of course, we were all standing so I didn’t think anything of it.

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THE reception was held in The Gardens, an arboretum that has always been popular for such events. Huge trees gave shade to a number of tables and chairs scattered around a permanent stage. A DJ kept the music lively while caterers slipped effortlessly amongst the people, offering hors d’oeuvres and drinks. They opened the buffet just as Andy and I arrived. “Are you hungry?” I asked, nodding to the steam table. “I could grab us a couple of plates if you wanted to get something to drink.” In that moment I would have sworn Andy looked annoyed, but I could think of nothing that would account for it. “What’d I say?” “Huh? Nothing. I just zoned for a minute, I guess. Yeah, sure. Grab us a plate.” He grinned. “Champagne, I presume?” “It’s a reception, isn’t it?” I countered. “Anything I should avoid from the buffet?” “Nothing green,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. On the shoulder. As if I were just one of the guys. I let it go, wondering at the temerity of my own ego. Maybe he was

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just caught up in the event, I thought. But all that afternoon I watched him, and yeah, I’m not too proud to admit I even tested him occasionally. Little things, like touching his hand, giving him a quick hug, and rubbing his back whenever we were together. He seemed to think nothing of the gestures, and by that I mean he didn’t respond one way or the other. In all other ways he was his usual, ebullient self. Laughing, chatting with the guests, and very nearly squeezing the life out of the poor girl when it came time for us to greet Eric and Lyndsey. He gave Eric a rough hug and congratulated him and then stood back so I could give Lyn a more sedate hug and kiss. “Did you two talk?” She looked at both of us. I glanced at Andy for permission, and he nodded. “Yes, we talked. For a while at least.” She squealed like the girl she was and clapped her hands. “Good! I want all the details later on.” She tipped her head to the line up behind me. “Well, maybe not all the details,” I said. Andy rolled his eyes, and Eric simply looked puzzled. She hugged me and then caught Andy and held him close. Her fierce, whispered “I love you!” was audible even from where I stood. Andy quietly whispered something in return, which made her shriek and blush. I saw her sidelong glance and

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blushed a little myself. “Whatever he said, it’s a lie.” “Oh, I hope not,” she said. I didn’t have the nerve to ask. So much for ego. Late in the afternoon, I found myself sitting beneath a huge oak tree, pleasantly blurred on champagne and indulging in my newly rediscovered spectator sport. Watching Andy. For as long as I had known him, people always seemed to cluster around him. Certainly his looks played a part, but more than that, his sheer personality had always been open and inviting, making you just want to be nearby. Charismatic, some would have said, but I Googled the definition once, and it cited an attractiveness that enables one to influence others. In his case, that simply wasn’t true. Andy didn’t need to influence anyone to like him. We all simply did. As I watched him chatting with a young couple, he looked up and around until he spotted me, and then he grinned. I felt a sudden surge of pride and devotion when I understood that he was keeping tabs on me. Which, in turn, gave me a sharp stab of regret for even thinking he’d been ashamed of me earlier. I raised my glass to his grin. He nodded, smiled, and

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excused himself from the couple. I stood as he approached, wanting to kiss him, but he stalled me with a hand on my chest. “Easy, baby. We can’t do that here.” “What? Why not?” I was genuinely confused. Aside from the occasional glance or frown, common enough in any gay man’s life, no one seemed to care in the least. Certainly not enough to make an issue of it. And it wasn’t as if we were the only gay couple attending the event. One of the bridesmaids, so demure and dainty on the altar, was seriously sucking face with a girl who wore her hair in a Mohawk, complete with bright pink tips. “We just can’t, Nate. I’m sorry.” Ah. So it hadn’t been my imagination after all. “What is it, Andy? Are you ashamed of me?” At least he had the grace to look genuinely startled. “No! Of course not. I just….” He broke off and downed the last of his champagne in a single swallow. “Do you regret us ‘talking’ last night?” “Definitely not.” I freely admit being relieved to see his eyes sparkle at that. I also freely admit to being thoroughly confused, because I couldn’t think of anything else that might be a

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problem. “Then what is it? Tell me.” He hesitated, searching for words. “I just…. Well… it’s all a bit sudden.” Of course. Stupid of me not to see that from the start. Here was a guy who spent his entire life hiding a large part of himself from the world. “Oh, I’m sorry, Andy. I should have realized. I—” But he wasn’t finished. “I just don’t think I’m ready to be a couple, you know?” Ouch. That stung, and much deeper than I expected, to judge from the retort that immediately popped out of my mouth. “Hey, it wasn’t like I was expecting you to start lisping and waving a rainbow flag around at all the Pride parades just because you discovered the joys of gay sex!” I was appalled and regretted my words even before I saw him wince. “Andy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Really.” Oh, man. I wanted to hold him so badly right then my hands shook, spilling my drink. He took the glass from my hand, so gently, and set it on the chair behind me. “No, baby. You’re right. I can’t have it both ways, can I?” He looked so forlorn that I reached involuntarily toward

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his face. He flinched, and I drew back, cursing myself for a fool. Andy reached out, grabbed my hand, and kissed my palm. “Nathan, you should never have to pull away from me.” Tears filled his eyes, and he brushed them away impatiently. I watched him struggle to keep his composure. “And you should never have to be afraid to cry in front of me,” I said, letting him hold my hand, too afraid to do anything else. “Just tell me one thing, please. Why did it take you so long to say anything? We didn’t exactly get that far in our conversation last night.” “I don’t really know. When you came to Mom’s funeral, I was watching you during the viewing. All of a sudden I wished that she could have seen you the way I did.” “She didn’t like me much, Andy. I came for you. Not her.” “Oh, I know. Believe me. She never could get her head around the whole gay thing, raised like she was. I think she was the main reason why I didn’t come out. Too afraid to hurt her, but more than that, I was too afraid she would hurt me. Pathetic, huh?” “No, baby. Not at all. It’s a hard thing to risk, losing your parents’ love. I think I was lucky that I got caught out. I didn’t have to make the choice whether or not to tell them.” I

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rubbed my thumb along the creases in Andy’s palm. He stared at our hands for a long time, saying nothing for a long time. Birds chirped in the branches overhead, and I could hear laughter in the silence when the music changed to something slow and mushy. Andy let go and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe I’m just a bastard.” “Why? Because you can’t change the habits of a lifetime between one minute and the next?” “Because I never should have said anything in the first place. I should have just kept my mouth shut. It would have been better for both of us, for you.” “Then yes, you’re a bastard,” I said coldly, thinking only to shock him out of his self-doubt with my words. “What makes you think you even have a clue what’s better for me?” “You wouldn’t be standing here right now looking like I slapped you, for one thing.” Andy’s voice held an edge, the first stirrings of anger making it sharp. “And I wouldn’t have been able to make love to you, either. Something I have wanted to do since the first day we met.” My voice rose, fueled by a fury I also hadn’t allowed myself to feel. Fury at the gross injustice of a thwarted love, and all that wasted time. “Except that was impossible because you were straight, so I ripped off a piece of my heart

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and buried it.” “Nathan, I—” “Buried it so damned deep,” I added, interrupting him, “that it took twelve years, almost as many failed romances, and a fucking concierge to make me realize what I truly wanted.” “What do you want, Nathan?” The softness in Andy’s voice very nearly brought me to my knees. “You, you big, stupid, beautiful asshole. I want you. Now and forever.” Andy’s face worked. He seemed to crumble in on himself, and he looked away. I ached to kiss him, kiss away his tears, but both of us were too crippled by Andy’s secret. I turned instead, grabbed my drink, and drained it in a single swallow. It was a shitty excuse for resolve, but it was the best I had. “Listen to me, and I’ll make you a promise. If you can handle me occasionally slipping and touching you when other people are around, I swear I will wait for you to find your way.” I waited for him to look up and meet my eyes. When he did I added, “Just so long as you don’t mind me crawling into that damned closet with you once in a while and fucking you silly.” He laughed, a startled, watery sound that went straight

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through my soul. “I think I can manage that much, at least. Just promise me you’ll leave the rainbow flags at the door.” “I can do that,” I said. “No problem.” “I want to kiss you so badly right now, Nathan.” I nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.” His eyes flicked back and forth, and the dappled sunlight glimmered in his hair, making a kind of halo of his curls. I was afraid that if I didn’t move right then, I’d break my promise even before it had fairly begun. “Come on; let’s go watch your girl dance with her husband.”

ERIC took the traditional garter from his wife’s leg, laughing when Lyndsey slapped at his head beneath her dress, probably because he was biting more than just elastic. He stood up, waving the green and white lace triumphantly. Also according to tradition, he turned his back and launched it over his shoulder. Without thinking, I jumped and caught it out of the air, startled to have done so. “Well, shit. That’s a waste,” someone said behind me. Andy turned, scowling, but the guy had already moved off with his buddies, laughing coarsely. “Will it always be like that?” Andy was still scowling.

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I shrugged. “After a while you learn to ignore it. Not much else you can do, really.” Andy’s scowl faded slowly, leaving a kind of pensive twist at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, you should know. You took a lot of shit for us back in the day, as I recall.” “That was different. It was you they were fucking with.” “What?” I snorted. “Do you think you’d have any less reason to be defended if our positions were reversed?” “No, I….” He paused as somewhere deep in his closet a light flicked on. “Just so you know, mister. You have every right to be happy as anyone else here. Probably more than some,” I added, thinking of the jerk that had been behind me. He nodded. I could see the wheels turning in his head, but I had no idea which way they were going. “Catch me, Andy!” Lyn said, leaning over the edge of the stage with her hands outstretched. Andy lifted her at the waist and set her down. Eric jumped down after. “Hey, I’m glad you caught it,” he said, tilting his chin toward the stretchy lace in my hand. “Oooh, gimme.” Lyndsey plucked the thing out of my

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hand and slid it up my arm. “That’s better, isn’t it?” She was looking at Andy. “Have you ever seen Fiddler on the Roof, by any chance?” “Nope. Should I?” The little minx’s eyes were practically dancing in her head. “You could have been the poster child,” Andy said, laughing. I changed the subject. “Are you ready for your honeymoon, Eric?” “Oh, hell yeah!” Enthusiasm lit his entire face when he looked at his new wife, and I couldn’t help but grin as an entirely different emotion lit hers. “Good. I’m glad.” “I don’t think he can hear you, Nate,” Andy said.

AS the bright summer sun gave way to sunset, painting the sky with broad strokes of orange and crimson, the DJ put on something slow and dreamy for the last dance. Eric led his pretty wife to the middle of the stage and drew her close. Their eyes locked together, and they began to move, swaying

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slowly to the music while the dance floor filled below them. I stood at the sidelines and scanned The Gardens, looking for Andy. He had wandered away hours ago, and already I missed him. I took off the garter Lyndsey had placed on my arm and looked at it, wondering where Andy was and wondering which of us was the bigger fool. Standing there, watching the couples dance and feeling sorry for us both, I had just about decided to leave when I felt hands slip around my waist from behind. Andy nipped at my ear playfully and kissed my temple. “Hey, what are you doing?” I looked around, wondering if anyone was watching. It wasn’t as if we were exactly hidden. “Breaking your promise.” “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but what brought this on?” “I don’t know. I’ve been wandering around, feeling completely unreal and thinking that it all comes down to a choice. Either I feel like I did under that tree, or I feel like this.” Andy waved a hand, indicating the dance floor and the people upon it. “What do you mean, Andy?” “Look at them, Nathan. Do you see anyone on that

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dance floor who isn’t smiling?” I didn’t need to look. I had been thinking about them for some time. “They won’t always smile, you know.” “No, I suppose not. We’ll have our ups and down also, I’m sure. But if I don’t make a decision, if I don’t make the right decision, we’ll never have the opportunity to try.” I leaned my head against his cheek and watched the first star of the evening wink into existence. “Make a wish,” I said, speaking softly into his ear. Andy hugged me tightly for a moment and then relaxed, but did not let go. “I want to dance with you under the stars and not live a lie. You are all the truth I will ever need, Nathan, because you are all that matters to me.” I laid my hands over his and squeezed, and he squeezed back. “Are you sure about this?” “Well… I wasn’t, but I spent a while talking to someone.” “I wondered where you had gone. Who was it?” Andy turned us toward the bridesmaid I had seen earlier and her girlfriend. They were watching us, both of them grinning from ear to ear. I tilted my head to look at him. “What, it took a girl in a

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pink Mohawk to convince you to come out?” Andy smiled. A sweet, gentle smile that I felt all the way to my toes. “No, actually it was the other one, Cindy. She doesn’t have the hair and the piercings that cause people to stare and make rude comments. Without her girlfriend on her arm, you’d never know she was gay. Hell, even her name is prim and proper.” Andy raised our hands, nodding to the girls, who beamed and then began to dance, very close together. “I asked them if it was all worth it. If all the shit that people gave them ever made them wish things were different.” “What did they say?” I turned in Andy’s arms so I could see his face. “They said sure. They wished people would get over themselves and be nice, or if they couldn’t be nice, just to leave them alone, stuff like that. But there was one thing they never mentioned, and that’s the part I heard most clearly.” “Tell me.” “Neither one of them ever said they wished they weren’t gay.” I sighed and wrapped my arms around my best friend, my lover, too caught in the tangle of my emotions to do

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anything but hug him. “Nathan.” Andy spoke softly into my ear, sending little ripples down my spine. “Do you know how much I love you?” “Yes, Andy. I love you too.” I felt my eyes sting, felt the tears form and fall onto his shoulder. “Can I ask you something else?” “Yes,” I mumbled into his neck. “Anything.” “Will you dance with me?” I stepped out from the circle of Andy’s embrace and drew him by the hand to the dance floor. My golden-haired Adonis took me into his arms and held me, timeless, as we began to move. I whispered into his ear, “Forever, Andy. Forever.”

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Born during one of the worst fires in L.A. history, PATRIC

MICHAEL escaped to the foothills of the Cascade Range where the world is a lot more green, even in summer. His wide-ranging and varied career, from ship building to making special effects movie props, has given him enough material for a lifetime of stories. He constantly reinvents himself with each new thing he creates. Now, it is as a writer of what he loves to read, but only when he can convince the cat that his keyboard isn't the only place in the house to sleep. Visit his blog at http://blogs.patricmichael.com and his web site at http://www.patricmichael.com.

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Timeless ©Copyright Patric Michael, 2009 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Design by Catt Ford This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America June, 2009 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-003-1

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