Date: Fri, 20 Mar 2009 16:25:20 -0500
From: Cieran Hughes <cieranhughes20383@gmail.com>
Subject: Cieran and Marcus, Part 3

	Marcus stepped into my tiny dorm room, closing the door behind
him. He crossed over to the loveseat and sat down. I turned my desk chair
to face him, sat down, and waited for him to talk. After just a moment, he
took a deep breath, and spoke.

	"I broke up with Julie over break."

	"What?" I almost didn't believe it. In fact, if it hadn't been for
the serious, focused look on his face, I might've thought he was playing
some sort of practical joke.

	"Yeah."

	"I thought you had decided to stay together back over
Thanksgiving."

	"We did," he said, "but about a week into Christmas Break, I
realized that it wasn't right. That I didn't want to be with her
anymore. So, I went over to her house one night and told her how I felt: I
wanted it to be over. I really think it hurt her. I felt awful."

	We both sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

	"How did you come to the conclusion to break it off? That is, if
you don't mind me asking."

	"Well," he started, "that's what I need to talk to you about."

	Before he could go on, I had the strangest moment of clarity; it
was a moment of pure intuition. You might even call it a moment of
precognition. Now, I'm not one to believe in things like that, but I had
experienced this same sense on two separate occasions. Each time I seemed
to know exactly what was about to happen. Looking back on it, I count what
happened next as my third experience with this feeling of intuition.

	"I broke up with her because of you."

	"What?" I said it carefully, with so much calculation. I had my
moment of intuition; would it turn out to be correct? Could this actually
be about to happen?

	"I just need to say some things. You can say or do whatever you
want when I'm finished, but just let me get all this out."

	He spoke the words with such raw passion, such vulnerability. I
felt like I was in the presence of something holy. When he spoke again, I
could see tears forming in his eyes.

	"I like you."

	He paused.

	"You are the closest, best friend I've ever had. You know me so
well. But I realized that I want more than friendship. I don't know why I
feel this way, and I can't explain any of this. All I know is, when I was
at home with Julie, being with her didn't feel right, so I ended it. After
we split up, I was lonely for a while, and all I could think about was
talking to you. I started to realize that I wanted to be with you, to hold
you, and kiss you, and...."

	He paused yet again. I don't think he could bring himself to say
the next thing. I didn't say a word. I could tell he wasn't finished
talking yet.

	"I've never felt this way about a guy before, but when I picture us
together in my head it seems right. I thought about fighting it, ignoring
these feelings, but then I remembered your advice: clarify my feelings and
do what makes me happy. I hope you can at least appreciate that. I guess
this means I'm gay. You might think I'm a freak. You might never want to
talk to me or see me again. I would understand if you did. Anyway, that's
what I needed to say."

	A tear ran down his beautiful cheek as I slowly stood up, crossed
the room and sat down next to him. He seemed intent on not looking at me.

	"Marcus," I said, "look at me."

	He turned his head and looked me in the eyes again. That was all I
needed. Slowly, purposefully, I moved in and kissed him. His lips were so
soft. After what seemed like a million years had passed, or maybe it was a
split-second, we broke apart.

	"Marcus, you're a braver man than I am."

	A look of understanding dawned on his face and he smiled.

	Once again, I leaned in and kissed him. This time he turned his
upper body to meet me. I ran my hands over his chest, feeling my way up to
the back of his neck and into his soft dark hair while he slipped his
tongue into my mouth. Now, I love having sex (what guy doesn't?) but a good
kiss, I mean a really fuck-awesome kiss can be in a world of its own. This
was one of those.

	We were thoroughly rapped around each other, making out, when I
slid my hands under his shirt. His skin was so smooth and warm. I ran my
hands over his abs and up to his chest as he let out a soft purr. Both of
our shirts were off moments later. Fuck, he was so hot. I couldn't take it
anymore; I had to have him. I began undoing his belt when I felt him tense
up and moan softly as he came.

	"Shit." He looked really embarrassed. "I'm really sorry about..."

	I cut him off with a kiss.

	"You're adorable. Don't worry, we'll come back to that part later,"
I whispered into his ear. "In the mean time, what do you say we get some
dinner?"

	He smiled.

	"Sounds good to me."

	"Well, you should go get cleaned up," I said playfully. "I'll meet
you at your room in a few minutes."

	A few minutes later, after he'd changed his boxers and jeans, we
were walking out into the cold night air. It was so great to talk to him,
to tell him how much I'd wanted this to happen.

	We were both very hungry and ate quickly, eager to get back to my
room and pick up where we left off.