Date: Wed, 13 Feb 2008 23:04:22 +0000
From: anne nana <ann_anana@hotmail.com>
Subject: You Don't Say

Disclaimer:

This story contains homosexual themes. If you are offended by such topics
or not of legal age to read such stories, please do not read on. The names
of characters and their engagements are fictitious. Any resemblances to
real life are completely coincidental.The author asserts all legal and
moral rights to this work and it may not be copied or transmitted in any
way except in its entirety along with this disclaimer.

Copyright (c) Anne 2008.  All rights reserved.


YOU DON'T SAY


"You don't say I love you on a first date," Michael couldn't keep his voice
down.

He could see Andrew in his peripheral staring through the window on his
right; looking like a child that had been told he couldn't have dessert,
due to his bad behaviour.

"I didn't say I love you." Andrew corrected, although in no way pleased
with himself. "I said 'I'm in love with you," his voice lower than usual.

"Massive difference Drew," Michael replied, shaking his head at the dark
road ahead.

"I knew you'd agree. I didn't get to eat. We need to stop somewhere."

Michael continued, as if his companion hadn't spoken. "What were you
thinking? Never be yourself on a date. For you, especially it's a complete
catastrophe."

       "Insert laughter here. You're a shit, you know that." Andrew said
still not looking at him.

Sneaking a glance at his driving companion Michael tried to estimate how
long this one would take to fix; he had to remind himself to cut the glance
short. It wasn't like he hadn't memorized the features of the person
sitting next to him. Some he knew better than others and others he'd have
to wait to see. He shook his head and concentrated on his driving.

Andrew was usually the tallest in most rooms, standing at a dependable
6'3". At the moment Michael knew that he wasn't comfortable in the small
vehicle, as his long legs were given little room. Andrew had that dark
hair, light eyes feature that made everyone melt into him.

His lips were thin but defined. When you looked closely you could see that
the top lip dominated the bottom just a little. At that moment and others
prior to it Michael wanted to lick the small cleft in Andrew's chin. Then
just to be fair the same would have to be done to the rest of his body, at
least once a day; twice on Sunday, as it was a day of worship. Michael
raised his eyebrows and nodded to confirm his decision.

It was hard, not to notice Andrew. Harder to watch him walk away with the
wrong men, over and again when he, the right man was right there drooling,
like a fucking dog.  Michael noticed that his hands were hurting as a
result of strong hold on the steering wheel.

 "Why do you have to jump into things?" Michael asked, bringing himself
into the present. Andrew was barely talking to him. Usually he was loud and
aggressive, now he wasn't. He felt safer around loud Andrew, this other one
was unpredictable.

"If I was like you I'd never do anything except wait and regret." The
window was still listening and misting at the heat of Andrew's quiet words.

"I hesitate Drew, it's human."

"No you chicken out. I know what I'm doing Mike."

Michael stopped the car. His heart felt like it was experiencing the
effects of a sprint. The old Ford came to a slow stop at the side of the
motorway. There was nothing ahead of them but Michael couldn't take his
eyes from the clear glass in front of him.

 "I wouldn't have said 'I'm in love with you' without knowing you felt the
same way." Andrew was looking at him now. Michael could feel the stare
raise the heat in his cheeks.

"I was going to tell you." He exhaled, suddenly exhausted.

       "Not before I died," Andrew softly scolded. He wanted to comfort
Michael, touch him as more than a friend. In places where Mike would be
sure that it wasn't a joke and he wasn't drunk. Those were the only times
he could touch him where he really wanted to, the only times he was
allowed.

Andrew twisted himself and sat up straight. He knew what he
wanted. Although still shaken from Michael's walk out, he calmed the redder
Michael's face became. He wanted to be the only one that could do that,
mark and excite him in some way. He'd never been in a friendship or
relationship that had lasted as long as the one he had with Michael and he
realized that he didn't want one. They had known each other for fifteen
years, when he was thirteen and Michael fifteen. They didn't know
everything about each other, but they knew enough.

On Monday in his office going over a lawsuit claim, he accepted that he was
in love with his best friend. Michael was flighty around the 'L' word. The
plan had been simple. Just tell Michael that he wanted to spend more time
with him and then see where that route took them. He wasn't to mention the
words "relationship" or "long term" under any circumstances. He had made
reservations at their restaurant, and had met him there. Everything was
fine, until the food arrived. Watching Michael's fork jump into the salad
for the second time, Andrew had blurted the words out. If he hadn't
followed Michael after he had walked out of the restaurant, he would have
never seen him again.

In the car Andrew noticed that the heat from Michael's face made the hair
seem even more blonde. His lips seemed fuller and firmer when he was
nervous. Andrew willed himself not to bite them, shifting his hips also
willing his erection to subside; for now anyway. His cock had been swelling
since Michael had stopped the car. The thought of Michael naked and nervous
in various areas of his house had him straining and leaking in his
briefs. He still couldn't look away from those lips though.

"I really am chicken shit," Michael's confession was no surprise to either
of them.

He smiled when he heard Andrew quietly gasp because he had reached out and
grabbed his left hand. They didn't know that they were both thinking the
same thing 'Don't stop. If you do that's it.' So Michael continued to run
his right palm over Andrew's hand. Feeling the roadmap of veins and warm
skin; he was surprised that it was so soft. 'What about the rest of him?'
He sighed.

Andrew had his head glued to the headrest; he was almost thirty and still
almost spermed his shorts when Michael slowly stroked the space between
each finger on his hand. 'He's doing this on purpose' he thought. Finally,
Michael ran his thumb over the knuckles of what seemed to be the best hands
in the world.


  Any comments email me: ann_anana@hotmail.com