Date: Fri, 15 Sep 2006 13:42:00 -0600
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Chris - chapter one - Gay College Section

Brian absently studied his reflection in the window overlooking the lush
landscaping of the hotel.  His fair skin made his dark hair appear even
darker.  His grey eyes looked back from beneath a slight frown which in
recent months seemed to have become a permanent feature.  The frown was at
odds with the rosy hint to his cheeks and lips.  He hated the frown.  He
had always been a happy person. Even as a teenager, he never went through
the 'growing pains,' his brother or sister had.  At least the dark circles
were gone from beneath his eyes, though his dark hair tended to highlight
his pale complexion.  He heaved a sigh and thrust his hands into the deep
pockets of his shorts, looking at his slender reflection for a moment
longer and then out to the surroundings which were intended to give the
impression of being in a tropical paradise instead of a barren desert.

He stood in the lobby of one of the most exciting hotels in one of the most
vibrant cities in the country, and he could still not break out of his
funk.  He had tried, but nothing seemed to work.  The exotic sights, and
even the laughter and excitement of those around him failed to lift his
mood.  He hated being alone.  He looked around and realized he was one of
the few people who was alone.  Earlier in the day, he had wandered through
the gardens, sat by the pool, and had even body surfed in the huge man-made
lake, all in an attempt to overcome his pain.  Now, he stood in the lobby,
slightly sunburned and at a loss as to what he should do, not only in the
next few minutes, but with the rest of his life.  Nothing interested him
any longer.

He came here thinking he might be able to recapture some of the excitement
he felt the first time he and Eric stepped through the doors of the
Mandalay and had been transported into a different world.  He had been here
for three days and was finally reconciled to the fact that he was not going
to be able to recapture what he and Eric experienced, no matter how hard he
tried.

He looked at the polished marble mosaic floors stretching across the whole
of the large room, the intricate carvings on the walls, and at all the
people who seemed as excited as he remembered being the first time he
stayed here.

One of the brilliantly colored caged parrots held in a large ornate cage in
the center of the lobby made a raucous sound which echoed in the vast
space.  Only the few children in the room showed any interest.  To everyone
else the call was merely an exclamation point to the general background din
of the nearby slot machines.  He knew how the bird felt, sitting all alone
in the cage.  No matter how big the enclosure, it was still a cage.

'Maybe he's lonely too,' he thought as he turned back to the huge windows
overlooking the human-made jungle hiding the wave pool and swimming pools.
People passed below him, through an avenue of sculpted elephants, each
playfully sitting on their haunches with their trunks held high, spraying a
fine mist over the walkway to cool the furnace-like desert air.  Everyone
below seemed to be laughing, creating a frenetic atmosphere full of motion,
colorful beach towels, and bare skin.

It was the same when Eric dragged him away from work to spend a week in
this city-wide world of make believe.  Nothing was what it seemed.
Elephants spouting a cooling mist, a fake Egyptian pyramid, a castle, or
any one of a number of European vacation destinations, all homogenized and
coughed-up along a narrow road in the desert.  He and Eric had strolled
wide-eyed up and down the Strip, joining thousands of others who were all
seeking excitement, riches, or . . . an escape.

The two of them hadn't been seeking riches, though excitement was high on
their list.  It hadn't really mattered where they were, as long as they
were together, life was good.  As always, Eric had been right when he
insisted they *had* to escape their day-to-day world and spend time
together.

"We've begun to take each other for granted," he complained when he held
the plane tickets in front of Brian's face and gave them a gentle shake.
"Both of us spend so much time working, we no longer have time to sit back
and relax."  Brian remembered giving his partner a skeptical look.  He
wanted to be with his partner, but . . . a vacation?  A whole week away
from responsibilities?

"Look Bri," Eric had said in his best cajoling mood.  "Whether you admit it
or not, we need a few days to unwind.  All we ever think about is work."
He laid the tickets on the dining table and stood close to Brian, holding
him in a loose embrace and looking into his eyes.

"I love you, Bri.  I don't see enough of you.  If slot machines and
fanciful buildings aren't your thing, let's spend the entire vacation in
our room."  He kissed the tip of Brian's nose and gave him an encouraging
smile.  "I want to lie in your arms and be close to you while you softly
snore."  He grinned when Brian looked as if he might complain about being
told he snored.  Brian knew for a fact he didn't snore.  It was all in
Eric's imagination.  "I want to laugh with you, and have wild sex with you
for an entire week.  I want to taste you, and smell you, and feel you
inside me."  He thrust himself against Brian with a sensuous movement of
his hips.

Brian remembered smiling and pushing himself against Eric, feeling his
partner's erection press against his own.  It didn't matter that each were
hidden behind layers of clothing, the feeling he experienced was electric.

A few weeks later they had come to this city and stayed in this very hotel.
Brian grinned, a sad expression when combined with the wistful look of his
eyes.  Eric would have told him he should be eating more.  He would have
coaxed him to go to some wonderful restaurants and sample exotic food.
Eric would have made the most simple things fun, just as he had the last
time they visited.

Brian sat on one of the stone benches next to the window facing the mist
shrouded elephants and sighed.  Eric wasn't here to coax him or to hold him
. . . or to make a face whenever he tried to tell a joke.  He'd never hear
Eric laugh again, or feel comforted in his embrace.  He'd never feel Eric's
breath as he snuggled close at night and rested an arm across his chest.

Brian opened his mouth and took a ragged breath, willing himself not to
cry.  For six years, Eric had been his life . . . and then he . . . died.
Brian felt the familiar rage well up inside him.

'How *dare* he leave me alone,' he thought, knowing as the complaint formed
he was being totally unreasonable.  Eric had no control over how his life
turned out, yet Brian found himself blaming Eric for abandoning him.
'There was so much I never said, so many things I wanted to do.'  Brian
took another gasping breath.  The lobby, filled with people, had ceased to
exist.  He was lost in his memories.

He recalled the last day . . . when Eric grinned at him and fumbled as he
tried to reach out and hold his hand.  "I'm sorry, Bri."  The words weren't
much more than a whisper.  He remembered Eric's once-sparkling green eyes
trying to focus as he looked up from the hospital bed.  Brian leaned close
while his tears fell on the sheet draping over his lover's chest.  Eric had
slowly reached up and wiped his fingers over Brian's wet cheek.  "Don't
cry, lover."  He had lowered his hand and rested it on his chest, trying to
raise his head when he felt Brian's tears land on his hand.

Brian remembered watching Eric make a feeble attempt to grin once more.
"Don't cry, Bri," he whispered.  Brian had leaned close to hear the words.
"I'm . . . sorry."  Then the feather-like touch of Eric's breath on his
cheek had stopped, and he had spent every moment since, mourning the man he
loved, regretting that he hadn't told Eric how much he meant to him more
often.  He remembered all the little things he wished he had done
differently, berating himself for not loving Eric enough.

Brian sniffed and stood, turning toward the spouting elephants once again.
He couldn't help but grin at people who were still wet from the pool
scamper through the pachyderm gauntlet of light mist, seemingly afraid of
getting wet.  He chuckled as he watched an impeccably dressed woman in a
sleek black evening gown approach the elephants and turn toward her
companion to say something.  She seemed to shake her head in exasperation
before she hiked up the hem of her dress, removed her high heel shoes, and
make a mad dash through the mist, trailed by the applause of many people
wearing swim suits who stood aside to watch her pass.  The man she was with
seemed unwilling to get his black suit wet.  He held his arms out to his
side in a sign of helplessness.  His lady-friend was motioning him on from
a spot beyond the elephants, urging him to be daring.  Some of the
swimsuit-clad onlookers were urging him on as well.  Brian laughed when the
man shook his head in resignation and ran.  People stepped aside as he
jogged past, cheered on by his lady-friend who was now jumping up and down
in excitement at the uncharacteristic behavior of her companion.

"Excuse me."  The voice behind him was vaguely familiar.  "Brian?"  He
looked over his shoulder and then turned to face a man he couldn't place,
but was sure he knew.  They studied one another for a moment before either
spoke.

"Brian?"  The shorter man was wearing the beginnings of a smile.  "Chris
Loughlin," he said, smiling a greeting at the same time he held out his
hand.  "I used to live next door to you in the dorms."

"Now I remember you!"  Brian grasped the man's hand and smiled, the tight
feeling in his chest dissipating with the warm touch and bright smile
before him.  "The glasses are a new addition."  Chris nodded and held onto
Brian's hand a second longer than was absolutely necessary.

Brian studied the slender man standing before him.  The few years since
graduation hadn't changed him much.  He still wore his light brown hair cut
short, and still had the same ready smile that crinkled the corners of his
brown eyes.  The light sprinkling of pale freckles still could be seen on
his slightly turned-up nose, making him look younger than he was.  Brian
smiled, and wondered at the sudden shift in his mood.  In the space of only
a couple minutes, he felt as if a fog had lifted.

He had spent weeks with nothing to say.  Now, as he faced his handsome
friend, he suddenly wanted to talk.  "I could sometimes hear you laughing
through the wall between our rooms.  I never figured out whether I could
hear you because you laughed *really* loud, or if it was because the walls
were *really* thin.  I was amazed at your constant good cheer."  He paused
a moment.  "My roommate always used to whistle when he'd see you walking to
the showers."  Brian found he enjoyed the pink flush on Chris' cheeks as
well as his wide smile.

"I remember."  Chris shook his head at the memory.  "The guy couldn't
whistle worth a damn."

"He liked your legs."  Brian laughed as the blush deepened.  "He always
complained about that towel you wrapped around your waist, wondering why
you were attempting to be so modest while everyone else paraded around in
the nude."  Brian stepped back and examined the shorts-clad man in front of
him.

"Yep, you're definitely Chris Loughlin."  He winked, wondering at his shift
in mood.  "I'd recognize those legs anywhere.  Shorts were invented for
people like you."  Chris looked down at his legs as if he were trying to
figure out why someone thought they were special.  Brian burst out laughing
at the expression Chris was wearing.  The two men had never been more than
casual acquaintances while in college, but it was certainly nice to see a
friendly face, and to laugh. . . . It had been such a long time.  He
remembered thinking Chris was cute, but at the time he only had eyes for
Eric.  He knew Chris had liked *him,* though he had never told him so,
himself.

Apparently, he would keep his roommate awake talking about, "Brian, the guy
next door."  He remembered laughing when Chris's exasperated roommate
knocked on his door one evening and urged Brian to, "go ahead and fuck
him," meaning Chris.  "Maybe then he'll stop carrying on and I can get some
sleep."  Brian had laughed and had rested his arm over Eric's shoulders,
shaking his head.

"Nope," he remembered answering.  "I'm already spoken for."  Chris's
roommate sighed and shook his head.

"Have you thought that maybe Chris would *like* the way Brian fucks?" Eric
chimed in.  "I know *I* do."  Brian had playfully elbowed him in the side,
embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

Chris' roommate shrugged.  "Maybe I can apply for a new roommate, or tape
his mouth shut or something," he muttered as he trudged back to his room.
"You have no idea how much this guy can *talk*!"  He shook his head and
went back inside his room.

"What brings you to town, Brian?"  Chris moved slightly closer, trying to
stay out of the way of the constant stream of people passing by.  "Business
or vacation?"

"Vacation, I guess.  You?"

"Business."  Chris made a slight face.  "But, the convention's over and I
decided to spend a few days of my vacation and check out the sights."  He
looked around with his big brown eyes.  "I can't believe this place!  When
I think I've seen everything, along comes something even *more*
outrageous."  He spoke with a confidential tone to his voice.  "A poor
country boy like me doesn't know what to make of people who dress like
that."  He nodded towards a scantily clad cocktail waitresses.  "I don't
know anyone back in Nebraska who looks like *that!*" He laughed, shifting
his gaze between the cocktail waitress and Brian.  "They'd either be
freezing or sweating."  He glanced back to the woman who was reaching into
the parrot's cage.  "I bet *she* doesn't sweat."  Brian snickered as Chris
once again glanced over his shoulder.  If she wasn't sweating, she'd be
freezing.  Somehow a heavy winter coat, wool scarf, and big black rubber
boots, seem out of place when you're wearing feathers."

He looked at Brian with an ingenuous expression and blinked his beautiful
eyes.  "Feathers don't provide much warmth, ya know."  He thought a moment.
"I guess they're okay for ducks though.  *They* don't seem to mind the
cold."  He shrugged and smiled, showing his perfect teeth before he joined
Brian's laughter.

"Wonderful, I got you to laugh!  A sad face doesn't seem right on you,
Brian.  I remember a guy who was always smiling.  You look much better
smiling than wearing a frown."

He looked around for a moment, as if searching for something.  "If you have
a few minutes, would you like to join me for a drink?  There has got to be
somewhere around here where we can sit down and talk."  He looked at Brian
with a hopeful expression.  "I'd enjoy visiting with you, catching up on
what's been happening, and stuff."  He hesitated when he saw Brian's smile
falter.  "But . . . if you'd rather not, I'd understand."  He appeared
ready to turn away, wearing a crestfallen expression.

"Chris, wait."  Brian reached out and lightly rested his hand on Chris's
shoulder.  "I'd love to have a drink.  I've just had some stuff happen
recently that I'm constantly being reminded off."  He grinned a crooked
smile.  "You lead the way and I'll buy."

Chris regained his smile.  "Then, dinner's on me!"

The two men walked side-by-side across the large hotel lobby, stopping a
moment to visit with the cocktail waitress who had taken the parrot out of
the ornate cage and was showing it to onlookers and posing for photographs.

"Ya think she has to glue those feathers on?"  Chris glanced over his
shoulder once as they walked away.  "I wonder what her mother thinks about
her dressing like that . . . in public."  Brian laughed as they approached
one of the hotel's lounges.

"What?  Do you think her mother would think dressing in feathers is okay if
she wore them in private?"  Chris looked over his shoulder and grinned at
Brian as they were being led to a small table overlooking a fountain and a
jungle's worth of greenery.  His mischievous smile hinted at wonderful
stories to tell.

"Sure, but who wants to dress in feathers at home?  They're really for
special occasions."

"You sound like an authority on feather attire."  Brian was falling under
the playful spell of Chris's personality.

"I'm not an authority.  Feathers don't suit me."  He grinned his thanks at
the person who took their orders.  "I tried 'em once," he said in perfect
seriousness.  "I had more to cover than the lady in the lobby though."  He
seemed to squirm slightly.  "Except for up top.  She's got lots more up
there."  He covered his chest with both hands and smiled brightly as his
eyes twinkled.

"Seriously?"  He couldn't imagine Chris wearing feathers.  "You wore
feathers?"  Chris nodded once again.

"I went to a party, and for some reason I decided I'd be daring and glue a
bunch of feathers to a g-string."  He nodded at Brian's slightly surprised
expression.  "I didn't know where to get any feathers, so I sliced open a
feather pillow, and glued a bunch of 'em onto the pouch of the g-string."

"I wouldn't have known where to get a g-string."  Chris made a dismissive
gesture.

"I had one of those.  Feathers were the problem."  He leaned across the
table.  "Did you know that feather pillows don't have many actual feathers
in them?  They're full of a bunch of small ones."

"It's called down," Brian offered.  Chris nodded.

"Tough stuff to glue, let me tell you.  In fact, don't try gluing anything
to a g-string.  You have to wear it while you're doing the gluing."  He
made a face that morphed into a smile.  "I could hardly get the fool thing
off.  You see, the glue had seeped through the fabric, so it was stuck to
my pubic hair."  Brian leaned back in his chair and laughed while Chris
smiled brightly, pleased at the reaction to his story.

"I didn't wear my glasses that night," he continued, taking them off and
squinting in Brian's direction.  "I thought wearing glasses didn't really
go with wearing a g-string, so I went around all evening squinting at
people.  I sorta looked like a near-sighted duck that had been half
plucked."  He nodded sagely and then joined Brian's laughter.  "People
seemed anxious to pluck whatever feathers were left, but I had used a lot
of glue.  Besides, I yelped whenever they tugged on a feather."  He leaned
closer.  "I don't like strangers yanking on my pubic hair.  Guys I know
. . . okay, but strangers?"  He shook his head.  "After a couple yelps,
people left the feathers alone."

"I'd like to have seen that."

"The party or the g-string?"

"You *wearing* the g-string!"  Brian thanked the person who delivered their
drinks.  "Sounds hot.  Remember, I know what your legs look like.  I
imagine the rest is pretty exciting, though I've never seen your butt.  I'm
an ass man, you understand."

Chris laughed.  "Well, if you had been at the party you'd have seen all you
wanted of my butt."  He sipped on his drink and made a slight face.  "So,
that's the story of how it is that I know wearing feathers can be chilly."
He mimed a shiver, grinning all the while.

Brian watched the man across the table from him for a moment and thought
about how, in only a short while, his mood and brightened.  "I regret not
being at the party.  Maybe I could have kept you warm."  He paused a moment
and then, when Chris looked up with a smile, he added. "I'd have loaned you
my coat . . . or something."  Chris grinned and studied his drink while he
spoke.

"I had a heavy crush on you when we were in school.  I don't know if you
ever knew."  Brian nodded slowly.

"I knew.  Your roommate complained."

"About what . . . my talking?"  Brian nodded and grinned.  "He didn't say
anything other than you seemed to really like me, and he wished I'd have
. . . done . . . something . . . with you so that maybe you'd stop telling
him of my virtues."  Chris leaned back in his chair and tilted his head
back, looking at the dark ceiling of the lounge, not sure how to handle
this revelation.

"Damn, I thought no one knew about that.  I never imagined he'd *tell*
you!"  He paused a long moment while Brian took a sip of his drink.  "Geez,
the things I told him."  He sighed and began slowly rotating his glass on
the tabletop, shaking his head.

"I was pretty serious about you."  Chris seemed lost in thought and
reluctant to meet Brian's eyes.

"Are you serious about anyone right now?"  Chris slowly nodded and then
shrugged, answering Brian's question.

"No, not serious.  I live with someone, but we're not involved with each
other."  When Brian gave him a quizzical look, he continued.  "I've been
together with Jon for four years.  It started out as a lover relationship,
but now, things are not going . . . well."  He looked at Brian, all traces
of his earlier playfulness gone.  "I feel trapped.  I want out, but I don't
know . . . how . . . to get . . . out."  He dragged out the last few words
as he stared into his drink.  After a few moments he looked at Brian with a
crooked grin.

"Sorry to burden you with my love life.  What about you?"  Brian knew the
question was inevitable and yet he wasn't any more prepared to answer Chris
than he had been to answer any of the other people who asked how he was
doing.  He shrugged.

"He . . . died."  It was all Brian could manage without bursting into
tears.  When he looked up, Chris seemed shocked.

"Shit, man."  He leaned forward and rested his warm hand on Brian's.  "I'm
sorry.  I didn't know."  He squeezed Brian's hand once and then returned to
rotating his drink.  "Damn, there's nothing I can say that won't sound
trite or maudlin."  He looked across the table and bit his lip.  "I'm
sorry, Brian, really."

He nodded once and managed to croak out a shaky, "thanks."

"Are you here, with someone?  Do you need to be getting back?"  Brian shook
his head.

"No, I'm alone."  He cleared his throat and tried to smile, regretting the
light-hearted mood of a few minutes earlier had changed to one of
melancholy.  "I guess I was hoping to recapture some of the fun we once had
here, but it wasn't working.  I was just wandering around feeling sorry for
myself.  Seeing you again has been wonderful.  I can't tell you how great
it is to be sitting here with you."  Chris grinned, reaching out once more
to grasp Brian's hand.

"Same here, Brian.  Same here."  He finished his drink and stared at the
empty glass.  "Would you like to have some dinner?  I haven't eaten
anything since breakfast and if I don't get some food into my stomach soon,
the alcohol will go straight to my head and I'll start giggling."  He
squeezed Brian's hand and prepared to stand.  "There's nothing worse than a
guy giggling because he's had one drink."  Brian smiled at Chris's attempt
to lighten the mood.

"You're paying for dinner, remember?"  Chris nodded as they wound their way
through the tables and headed for one of the hotel's restaurants.  "I'd do
a lot more than pay for dinner to be with my favorite man of all time," he
said as they left the lounge.  He instantly turned to Brian and looked
embarrassed by what he'd said.

"It's the alcohol talking, Brian.  Get me some food quick or no telling
what I'll say."  He giggled slightly and urged Brian forward with a hand
motion.  "Go on, choose a restaurant, and be quick about it.  Preferably
some place with food."  Brian had taken a couple steps before he realized
he had left Chris behind.

He joined Brian but seemed distracted.  "One damn drink and I always start
acting strange."  He continued to talk as they walked.  "Giggling and
horny.  A strange combination, don't you think?"  Brian smiled, asking the
person at the front of the restaurant if there were any open tables.  The
young man smiled and nodded.

"Yep," Chris continued as he sat down at the table and grinned.  "I'm a
happy, horny drunk."  The maitre d' frowned and turned to Brian as Chris
was distracted by something.  Brian made a calming gesture which seemed to
satisfy the young man.

Chris quickly glanced at the menu and set it aside, continuing to study the
other diners with a slight grin.  When it seemed Brian had decided what to
order, a waiter appeared at their table.

"Have you decided what you'd like to eat this evening," he asked, poised to
take their orders.  Chris nodded, handing the waiter his menu.

"Food."

He grinned at the waiter, once again wearing his ingenuous expression.  The
waiter stared at Chris for a moment longer before turning to Brian who
tried not to laugh at the man's expression.  Chris seemed content to look
around the restaurant wearing a hint of a grin.  Brian looked at him over
the top of the menu as the waiter . . . waited.  Finally, he ordered two
meals and asked for an appetizer to be served quickly, saying his friend
needed something to counter the drink he had earlier.

"Drink?"

Brian nodded at the waiter's skeptical look.  "Just one."  Chris nodded and
looked at the waiter, scanning his body slowly, from his highly polished
shoes all the way up to his slightly starched expression.  His gaze came to
rest on the waiter's crotch, which was almost at eyelevel.  He looked up
with another of his mischievous smiles.

"Yep, one drink makes me happy and horny."  The waiter backed up a step,
covering his crotch with the menus before turning and walking away,
shifting the menus to cover his butt.  Chris waved as the man looked over
his shoulder.

Brian leaned across the table and spoke in a low voice.  "You're not really
*that* drunk, are you?  You're just having fun with the guy."  Chris
grinned and nodded.

"I *do* start to giggle after a drink, and I *do* get horny.  Actually, I
think the horny bit comes first and *then* the giggle, because I find I'm
very horny right now and I haven't started to giggle yet.  Strange
combination, don't you think . . . horny and happy?  I'm having fun with
the waiter because he's so full of himself.  I mean, he's a *waiter* not a
rocket scientist."  Even if I had *two* drinks I wouldn't tease one of
*them.* I was never very good in science."

Brian sat back and studied the man sitting across from him.  "I'm amazed."
He continued after Chris looked at him with a puzzled expression.  "We're
sitting here visiting as if we've been friends for years."  He looked
across the table with the barest hint of a grin, thinking how comfortable
he felt.  "I'm sorry we weren't better friends when we were at school.  I
realize I missed out by not knowing you better."  He sighed and sat back in
his chair, resting his hands on the table.  Their appetizer was placed at
the center of the table by a young lady who grinned at them both and
returned Chris' smile.  "All my attention was focused . . . elsewhere."  He
toyed with his fork while Chris silently watched him in the dim light of
the restaurant.  "I don't make friends very easily . . . at least not good
ones."

"Of course you do.  Besides, we go way back.  Remember, we've lived next
door to each other for a whole year.  That makes us almost roommates, *and*
you said you like my legs and *wish* you could see my butt.  That counts
for something on the intimacy scale.  As for me, I know that I like *all*
of you . . . even though I've never seen it all, I know I like it."  Brian
laughed and felt slightly embarrassed by Chris' candid disclosures.  "You
may not have thought of me as a good friend, but I've always thought of you
as one."  He shrugged and grinned, pushing his glasses back on the bridge
of his nose with a finger.  "Maybe that was wishful thinking on my part."

"Is that the alcohol speaking again?  You seem to be revealing quite a few
secrets."  Chris shook his head at the question, and pierced one of the
tidbits from the plate of appetizers.  He held it before him for a moment
as he studied it, and then bit into it.

"Good," he managed to say around the food.  "I wonder what it was when it
was living."  He stopped chewing for a moment while he contemplated what he
might have in his mouth and then shrugged and continued chewing.

"But, to answer your question.  No, the alcohol's not talking any longer.
It's just Chris Loughlin, a Nebraska farm boy who has wished every day that
things had been different when he was at school, so he and the guy he used
to live next door to could have had a chance with one another."  He sat
back in his chair and looked across the table while Brian sampled one of
the appetizers.

"We've already heard that my roommate thought I talked too much.  I'm sorry
if I'm making you uncomfortable.  It's just that . . . I don't know.  I
guess I thought I'd never see you again.  Now that I have, I guess I'm
saying more than I should."

Brian smiled as he watched Chris blush and grin, amazed at how comfortable
he felt.  "I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you would have liked.
I was just so . . . focused, on one person, I didn't really even *think* of
anyone else.  If you had paraded back and forth in front of me, naked, I
don't know if I would have really thought too much of it.  I guess I was
living in my own little world.  During the past few months I've been made
aware of the pitfalls of loving one person with a singlemindedness that
caused me to ignore everyone around me.  When I needed a friend, I found I
didn't have any."

"Since seeing you this afternoon, I realize the way I've lived my life has
been a mistake.  I realize how much I need a friend.  I didn't really give
you a chance when we were in school and now . . . things are different."

Chris sat forward, leaning his forearms on the table and laced his fingers
together.  "I agree.  Things *are* different from when we were in school.
Brian, you are lonely and in need of more than a casual friend.  You
haven't had anyone hold you in a long time, have you?"  Brian bowed his
head.

"No.  It's been too long.  Being a loner isn't a good thing when one needs
some support."  He tried to smile.  "I just don't know, Chris.  I mean I
don't know if I can."  Chris looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"You don't know if you can allow me to hold you?  When I squeezed your hand
back in the bar, your body responded, whether you think *you* did or not."

"You know what I mean."

"You mean, you don't know if you can have sex without feeling as if you're
betraying your partner."  The way Chris said it, it wasn't a question, it
was a statement of fact.  Brian nodded slowly.

"I'm not talking about sex, Brian.  I'm talking about you needing to be
comforted.  You're acting as if you're totally alone.  That's not the case.
You seem to think no one loves you.  I personally know that's not the case.
You need to be held by someone who cares for you.  Tonight at least, I'm
that man.  I care for you . . . more than you know."

"But your partner," Brian began, but stopped speaking when Chris put up a
hand to stop any further mention of his partner.

"Brian, I told you earlier, I'm in a relationship in name only.  We share a
house, and little else.  I work days, he works nights.  We see each other
for about fifteen minutes a day and have very little to say to one another
when we *are* in the same room.  We're not angry with each other or
anything like that.  We've just drifted apart, and neither one of us knows
*how* to end it."  He trailed off with a sigh.

"I've stayed because I don't like change.  I tend to let things go on
forever, or until something or someone kicks me in the butt and screams for
me to do *something* . . . *anything!*"

"My sex life for the past few years has been reduced to beating off while
I'm watching some porn.  I also would like to be held, but I don't *need*
it like you do."  He leaned closer.  "Brian, having said that, I'm *not*
propositioning you.  I would love to, but I'm not.  What I *am* doing, is
offering to hold you.  Would you let me?"  He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

"I guess if I'm going to be totally honest, I should tell you that while I
want to hold you because you need it, I'm also being selfish.  I feel as if
I've just found you, and I'm thinking that I would really like to feel your
arms around me. . . . After dinner, of course."  He smiled brightly as the
slightly wary waiter approached the table with their dinner.  The man
placed Brian's meal in front of him and then leaned close to Chris,
gingerly arranging his meal while trying to stand as far away as possible.

"Hi.  My name's Chris."  The man stood as if he had been shocked.  Chris
ignored the rattling dishes and curious glances cast their way from nearby
diners wondering at the noise and sudden movement. He continued smiling
brightly, seemingly unaware of the waiter's distress.  The man stuttered a
moment.

"Uh, um.  How nice for you."  He shut his mouth with an audible click of
his teeth and walked away with a straight back.  If he had looked over his
shoulder he would have seen Chris chuckling and Brian looking across the
table in wonder.

"You are one nasty operator, Mr. Loughlin," Brian tried to hide his grin as
he watched his dinner partner examine his meal.  "When we were in school I
never thought of you as being so playful."

"I wasn't, then.  I guess I've loosened up a little."  He winked at Brian.
"Wearing a feather g-string does that to a person." He cut into his steak.
"This is going to be good."  He gave Brian a merry glance over the top rim
of his glasses.  "Thanks for ordering steak.  If you'd ordered something
that used to swim or crawl about in the ocean, you'd have had to eat it."
He savored the first bite of his dinner and sighed with pleasure.  "Once, I
heard lobsters referred to as the cockroaches of the ocean.  Since then, I
haven't been able to even *think* about sea food."  He shuddered and
grinned when Brian began laughing.

"Yep, the smile's much better than the frown."  He raised his glass as if
in a toast.

The smells and sounds of the restaurant followed them as they strolled past
groups of people on their way to an evening's dining and entertainment.  A
roll of thunder briefly overpowered the jumble of music coming from the
many restaurants, but quickly rumbled into a distant grumble, allowing the
music and laughter to be heard.  Another clap of thunder came on the heels
of a dazzling flash of lightning which illuminated the inside of the
building through a skylight.  The gold skin of the hotel above briefly
shone brightly in the strobe-like light.

Chris turned from looking up through the skylight and inhaled deeply
through his nose then grinned when Brian gave him a curious look.  "This is
*so* nice.  I haven't had as pleasant an evening in a long time."  Brian
grinned, looking much more relaxed than when Chris had first encountered
him earlier in the afternoon.  There were moments when he would seem
perfectly at ease and then he would close up, his frown would return, and
he would look around as if he were searching for someone.  The longer they
were together the more he smiled.

"Same here."  Brian's deep voice seemed more relaxed . . . less haunted by
his memories.  "I had almost forgotten what it's like to smile and laugh."
He nudged Chris and grinned.  "A farm boy I know showed me that I hadn't
lost the knack entirely.  He must have practiced telling jokes to the cows,
or something."

"Ha!  I never went near any cows."  He held his hands out in front of him
and wiggled his fingers.  "These babies have never fooled around with
anyone's tits."  He shuddered, and then wiped his hands over the front of
his shorts at the same time he made a face.  "Now, pecs are an entirely
different thing.  I even like to suck on those."

He quickly looked toward Brian, losing his playful smile.  "Sorry guy.  I'm
getting carried away."  He turned toward one of the store fronts they were
passing and didn't see Brian's frown.  When Brian moved close enough to
touch shoulders he looked up.

"Chris."  His voice was serious.  "I have always loved sex.  I'm not afraid
of hearing you talk about it.  What I'm having trouble getting past is the
feeling that somehow, if I'm with . . . someone . . . I'll be cheating on
Eric."  He held up both hands to prevent the response he knew would be
coming.  "I know it's stupid to think something like that, but . . . I do.
I don't *want* to, but you see; I never even *thought* of another guy when
I lived with Eric.  I mean *ever.* That's why you didn't totally register
in my mind when we were back in school.  I knew you were living next door
to us but I didn't *see* you . . . or any other man."  He sighed and turned
his back on the brightly lit shop.

"Monogamy is wonderful, but I think I must have been something *more* than
monogamous."  He turned to Chris with a slight frown.  "Do you understand
what I mean?"  Chris managed a single nod and then steered Brian away from
the store with a gentle pressure on the small of his back.

They passed through the casino with its constant chiming of slot machines,
and strolled back into the largely deserted lobby, heading toward the large
window where they had met.

"It's still raining."  Chris grinned to himself at the words.  He could see
Brian's reflection, and that he was apparently focused on the wind-driven
rain.

"How far is your hotel from here?"  Brian continued, looking straight
ahead.

"A couple miles I'd guess.  I walked over here."

"You'll get wet."

"I could take a taxi.  I'll be okay."

"Oh."  There was a long pause.  "Chris."  Brian turned to him and then back
toward the window, focusing on the reflection rather than on the man
himself.  "Chris, I can't promise anything."  He made a helpless motion
with his hands.  "I know you're not Eric."  The words had become a murmur,
barely heard over the distant slot machines.

"Without your help, I could end up sitting . . . alone, waiting, wishing,
he would come home."  He choked as he tried to continue speaking.  "I mean,
I *know* he's not coming home, but . . . "  He turned his pain-filled eyes
on the man next to him.

"He'd want me to be happy . . . wouldn't he?  I mean, I . . . "  He
shrugged and loudly swallowed, unable to go on.  "Wouldn't he?"

Chris reached out and rubbed the open palm of one hand slowly over Brian's
upper back.  "Shhh.  You're torturing yourself for no reason.  I knew Eric,
from back in school, and I *know* he would want you to be happy.  He was
always laughing and wanting to have a good time.  I don't think he'd expect
your life to stop . . . because he's not able to be with you . . . "  He
paused a moment, not sure whether he could keep his composure.  After a few
moments when it became clear Brian wasn't going to say something more,
Chris decided to trust his voice.  "I don't think he'd want you to waste
your life waiting for him, Brian."  He gently touched his friend's
shoulder.  "He was a good guy.  I'm sure he'd tell you to stop torturing
yourself."  Once again, he squeezed Brian's shoulder and gave him an
encouraging grin.

"Geez, what I'm thinking is not coming out very well.  Do you know what I
mean?"  The corners of Brian's lips twitched up into a crooked grin and he
slowly nodded.

"Is that offer of a hug still open?"  Brian seemed suddenly shy.  "I've
been thinking of holding you and feeling your arms around me."  He took a
ragged breath and grinned.  "I watched you when we were eating and wished
you were holding me . . . then."  He gave Chris a sheepish grin.  "I must
say, the longer I'm around you, the more I want to feel you . . . close."
He bowed his head and was looking up through lowered lashes.  "Will you?"

"I would love to, Brian.  More than anything."  Suddenly, a cheer erupted
from the casino and someone screamed, "I've won! I've won!"  Chris tried
not to smile as he and Brian strolled toward the elevators.  He knew
*exactly* what the happy person was feeling.  The reality of seeing Brian
was turning out to be better than any fantasy he'd ever had.

In only minutes, Chris was standing in Brian's dark room, before the wide
expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows.  He could see Brian's reflection,
standing motionless in the room's entry.  He appeared to either be having
second thoughts about having someone in his room, or he didn't know what to
do next.  Chris turned to him and gestured for him to come closer and then
turned back to the window, giving Brian all the time he needed to reach a
decision.

He could see Brian take a deep breath and slowly exhale before slowly
walking across the room until he was at Chris' side.  "Sorry," he murmured.
"I . . . "  Chris moved closer and wrapped an arm around Brian's waist.

"Shhh.  There's nothing to be sorry about.  But, if things get to be too
much for you, let me know.  I'll leave . . . if you want me to."  He could
feel a slight tremor as he drew closer and Brian rested an arm across his
shoulders.  They stood in silence, welcoming one another's touch, watching
the wind whip the palms far below and the rain beat against the window.  As
the minutes passed, Brian became more relaxed.  His breathing steadied and
he leaned into Chris' one-armed embrace.  After a moment he chuckled to
himself drawing Chris' attention.  Brian looked toward him and Chris saw a
different man than had stood next to him only moments earlier.

The frown was gone, as was the firm set of his mouth.  His entire posture
seemed to be less tense.  It was as if the anxiety he had been carrying
with him since his partner's death had been washed away by the rainstorm.
Brian took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"I love the rain."  He moved behind Chris and wrapped both arms around his
waist, resting his head on Chris' shoulder and murmuring in his ear.
"Thank you, farm boy . . . for everything you've done for me today." He
moved his head slightly and nuzzled Chris' neck for a few moments before he
kissed it.  Chris inhaled deeply and moved closer, silently urging Brian to
tighten his embrace.  As Brian pulled him closer he could feel Brian's
erection pressed against his buttocks causing him to smile.

"This is so nice."  He realized as he spoke that Brian wasn't the only
person who had begun to relax.  He loved the warmth and feeling of being
needed, having a pair of strong arms around him.  That it was Brian who was
holding him made the sensations all the better.  The warm breath on his
neck, and the slow, deliberate kisses sent shivers up and down his spine.
Brian seemed to know what he felt because he could feel him chuckle as he
tried to push himself closer, reveling in his fantasy-come-true.

Suddenly, the earlier tension returned, in force.  He stiffened, causing
Brian to make a questioning sound before returning to kissing his neck.
"Just a sec, I have to say something."  He was watching their reflection
and saw as well as felt Brian raise his head.

"Brian, we've just found each other.  Even if what we have lasts only
tonight, I don't know how I'm going to be able to go back to Jon . . . and
my old life.  I feel as if a new chapter has started today."  Brian further
tightened his embrace but remained silent.  "I'm serious.  I've tolerated
the situation I'm in for the last couple years, because there was nothing
better.  I had sort of stopped looking for someone.  Now, I've suddenly
found you and I don't want to let go."  He turned to face Brian, and threw
his arms around his shoulders.

"Hold me . . . tight."  Brian tried to grin his reassurances, but was
feeling many of the same things himself.  He gently stroked the back of
Chris' head, running his fingers through his hair.

"Hey, I'm the one that's supposed to need comforting . . . remember?"  He
grinned slightly and tilted Chris' head up with a forefinger.  "Things will
work themselves out." He leaned forward and kissed the tip of Chris' nose,
causing the corners of his lips to curl slightly.  He rested his head on
Brian's shoulder and was quiet while Brian slowly rubbed his open palms
over his back and down to the seat of his pants.

"Yeah, I guess.  It's just that a few minutes ago all I could think about
was how this has been the very best day of my life, and now all I'm
thinking about is what I'm going to be feeling when the day is over and I
have to say goodbye to you."  He trembled slightly in Brian's arms.

"Shit, I *hate* the word, goodbye."

Brian tried to keep his voice calm, but hearing Chris mention saying
goodbye brought back memories of Eric, and how he refused to let go of his
dead partner's hand as hospital employees wheeled him to the morgue.  Only
when a stern looking man stopped him at the doors to the morgue, had he
finally released Eric's lifeless hand. Hospital personnel wheeled Eric
away, and Brian stood in the hallway with bowed head and cried as he said
goodbye.  Now, it was Chris who needed comforting.

"Don't think about tomorrow.  We're here tonight, just the two of us."  He
grinned as Chris nodded slightly.  Brian leaned forward and tentatively
brushed his lips against Chris'.  "No one's saying goodbye tonight, so
don't try to run away, Mr. Loughlin.  You're spending the entire night by
my side, like it or not."  Chris gave him a small smile and a nod, not
quite able to stop thinking about tomorrow, but willing to try.

"This room comes equipped with a bed, ya know," he breathed into Chris' ear
before kissing his neck once again.  Chris took a deep breath and leaned
into the kiss.  "May I undress you?"

"You sure?"  Brian nodded slowly and drew Chris into another lengthy deep
kiss.  "Yes . . . I'm sure.  You feel so good in my arms, so warm."  He
could barely suppress a chuckle as he added.  "And hard too."

"I'm no harder than you are, Mr. Winslow."  Chris ran his hand down the
front of Brian's shorts, caressing the erection within before cupping
Brian's testicles.  "I'm yours to command."  He backed up slightly and held
his arms out to his sides.  "Strip me, handsome.  When you're done, I get
to do you."  Brian made a groan deep in his chest as he stepped closer.

"Ever since we were at the bar, I've been wanting to do this."  He
unfastened Chris' belt and the zipper to his shorts, gently pushing them to
the floor.  Chris began to breathe heavily as Brian fondled his erection
through his underwear.

"You're not gonna cum on me are you?"

"Huh? . . . You mean . . . now, or later?"  Brian slipped Chris' shirt over
his head, leaving him in a pair of tight black briefs with a lengthy mound
reaching for the waistband.  He chuckled as he pulled Chris to him and
began to massage his buttocks while they kissed.  "I meant to ask if you
were about ready to cum . . . now."  He licked a broad swath over Chris'
neck, leaving a glistening trail of moisture behind, before he sought out
Chris' mouth.

He couldn't help but compare Chris with Eric.  Chris and he were the same
height, where Eric was slightly shorter and sported more muscle than Chris,
though Chris was by no means skinny or frail.

Chris shook his head slightly, answering Brian's question about if he was
about to cum, as he continued to breathe through his open mouth.

"Good."  He licked across Chris' lips, gently teasing them with his tongue.
He could feel Chris' warm breath and smell his spicy scent and found
himself excited by the smell as well as the nearness of a man.  "Later
. . . when you *do* cum, you can shoot on me, or in me. . . your choice."
He could feel a shudder move through Chris' body.

"Shit, Brian.  Are you the same man that I came into this room with?  I
mean, you're driving me crazy, here.  It's like you're a different man.
What happened?"  Brian grinned a crooked smile as he ran the palms of his
hands over Chris' smooth chest, pausing to tease the nipples between a
thumb and forefinger.  Chris threw his head back and groaned at the touch.
Brian continued to tease the nipples for a few moments longer and then
slowly moved his hands down Chris' flat stomach and once again caressed his
erection through his underwear which now had a large wet spot on the front.
Brian grinned to himself as Chris closed his eyes and began whimpering at
the touch.

"You want me to get you naked, farm boy?"

"Uhh Huh."

"Are you sure?"

"Please Brian.  I need to be naked.  Strip me, please."  He still had his
eyes closed and trembled as Brian gently kneaded his buttocks.  Brian
chuckled low in his throat and gently began to lower the tight boxer
briefs.  Chris' whimpering increased and his hands were opening and closing
at his sides, as if they wanted to help.

"Oh, yeah," Brian groaned as the head to Chris' cock appeared.  He spread
some of the precum over the head and began to lightly run a forefinger over
the underside.  Chris opened his eyes when he felt Brian's warm breath on
his face and opened his mouth, welcoming Brian's tongue.

"Please, Brian."  He gasped for breath as Brian began kissing his neck
working his way down toward Chris' nipples.  "I can't take any more of
this. I've gotta get naked.  I want you to be too.  Pleaaase,'" he
whimpered, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.  Brian ignored him,
intent on sucking Chris' nipples.

In a flash, Chris moved back a step and pushed his underwear to the floor,
letting his penis spring free.  Brian straightened and smiled, raising his
eyebrows in appreciation.  Chris was absolutely perfect.  His long cock
stood out from a base of thick brown pubic hair.  His testicles nestled in
their smooth sac, their size making a promise that would be fulfilled when
Brian finally brought him to orgasm.  He could see them shift as he
watched.

"Now you."  Chris quickly stripped Brian out of his shirt, dropping the
clothing on the floor.  With a little help, he was soon standing before
Chris looking slightly embarrassed as Chris stared at him open mouthed.

"Damn, Brian.  You are so much better than any fantasy I ever had.  He
moved closer and reached out to tenderly caress Brian's cheek.

"You mentioned something about a bed . . . "  He winked.  "What do you say
that we make use of it?"



~ to be continued ~



Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

I would appreciate hearing any comments you may have, and if you would like
a pic of the men who inspired the characters, please ask.

If you enjoyed this chapter, you may also like to read my other stories,
also in the Nifty College Section.  They're entitled, 'Phalen,' and
'Leith.'

Roy Reinikainen

roynm@mac.com