Date: Thu, 29 Jan 2004 10:10:06 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dr. Tim and the Boys, ch. 40

The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events
between men.  If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In
the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

The timing here is bad because of a posting glitch, but I want to mention
that my friend and colleague Tom W. has recently posted a story entitled
"Slave to Love" in the Authoritarian section.  It's a sweet story. Even
those of you who don't normally read in that section will like it, I think.
Give it a look.

I need to thank Evan Bradley for a particularly insightful suggestion about
this chapter, Tom for his careful editing, and the rest of my Nifty Six
colleagues for their encouragement and support.

Who ever would have thought this series would reach forty chapters and
still be running?  Certainly not yours truly.  It wouldn't have reached
this point without the wonderful letters I've received from you readers.
My sincere thanks to all of you who have written me over the last year and
a half.  I also want to thank the Nifty archivists, who are truly unsung
heroes.  I don't imagine they get much fan mail, but they are unfailingly
helpful, and we surely couldn't do it without them.  Now, one last thing:
have you ever made a donation to the Nifty Archive?  If not, please think
about it.

timmead88@yahoo.com
Chapter 40:  Commitment and Temptation


CEDRIC:

One Sunday morning Tim wanted to work awhile in the library, so I decided
I'd get in a work-out session.  I figured there wouldn't be anybody at the
gym at that hour, and I was right.  The place was practically deserted.
After my workout, I decided to use the steam room.  I had no more than sat
down when the door opened and in came a guy I had known casually for a
couple of years, a brother named Emerson Cates.  A couple of inches taller
than me, which would put him at six feet even, he looked like the swimmer
he was.  He had very light skin, blue eyes, and brown, not black, hair.
There'd been a honkey in the woodpile somewhere in his background,
obviously.

My gaydar is far from perfect.  That Sunday morning the previous spring
when I grabbed up Tim and took him to bed and made love to him every whicha
way, I fully expected to spend the rest of my life in jail.  Well, perhaps
not fully, but I was scared shitless that he'd order me to leave and then
call the cops.  The point of all this is that I was pretty sure Emerson was
one of us.  Not a brother, which he obviously was.  One of "us."  He didn't
act "gay," or anything.  I just sort of knew.

He grinned when he came in.  "Cedric, how are you, brother?"

I grinned back.  "Emerson, what are you doing here on a Sunday morning?"

"Oh, `bout the same as you, I suspect.  I've just been workin' up a good
sweat.  Used the running track upstairs after my workout.  Saw you comin'
in here and figured I'd join you."

"Well, as you can see, there's plenty of room."

Normally, two men in a steam room will sit as far apart as they can get.
At least two straight guys will.  Emerson sort of sprawled on the bench,
but not very far from me.

I closed my eyes, put my head back, and just enjoyed the heat and the
steam.  Sometimes in January in northern Ohio, even though I'd lived here
all my life, I thought I'd never get the cold out of my bones.

Emerson was quiet for a while, too.  Then he said, "Uh, Cedric, I saw that
article about you and your friends and that little professor goin' to
Florida to help out that gay dude."

I tensed up.  Maybe I was wrong about Emerson and he was going to try to
beat me up.  "Yeah?"

"Yeah, bro.  That was a real decent thing for you guys to do."

"Yeah?" I said, trying not to let my relief show in my voice.

"Right on, dude.  It took a lot of guts to come out."

"Well, the guy who wrote that article said the group from here was a
mixture of straight and gay guys."

He cocked his head.  "You telling me you ain't gay?"

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't come to any conclusions based on that
article."

He grinned again.  "All right then.  I also hear you went to a Christmas
party at a professor's house as the date of that little Mead guy."

OK.  Tim and I had agreed to do that, knowing what the eventual
consequences would be.  We knew we were coming out on campus, and that word
would get around.

"Emerson, Tim Mead and I are partners."

"Cool, man!"  He reached over and squeezed my shoulder.  "It's good to know
there's at least two of us gay brothers on this campus.  Sometimes I feel
like I'm the only one."

"You know, come to think of it, I know some gay guys, but they are all
white.  Can't think of a gay brother.  Except, now, you, of course.  Have
you ever gone to any meetings of the SGA?  I know Philip Halifax.  He seems
a friendly enough dude.  Now that Tim and I are out, we've talked about
going.  Maybe you'd like to come with us.  You might meet some brothers
there."

"Shit, man!  I can't do that!  I hate to think what the guys on the swim
team would say if I came out."  He paused.  "How's it been with your
baseball buddies?  Have they given you any shit?"

"Well, practice hasn't started yet, and now that I don't live in the jock
building any more, I haven't seen any of them for a while."

"Well, Ced, you've got guts, I'll give you that.  I hope they don't hassle
you about it."

I took a deep breath.  "You know, Emerson, I think I'd rather be hassled
than have to keep hiding who and what I am."

"Yeah, I can dig that."

We were quiet again for a while.  Then I felt a hand on my thigh.

The line was trite as hell, but I said it before I thought.  "Emerson, what
the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He grinned at me and licked his lips.  "Come on, bro.  What does it look
like I'm doing?  Wouldn't you like to have that fine black cock sucked?"

I was embarrassed to feel Sneaky getting hard.  I took his hand and removed
it from my thigh.  Then I moved a little further away from him.  He scooted
toward me again.

"Look, man.  You're one hot looking brother.  But I'm in a relationship."

"Who, that dinky little prof?  Cedric, you could have a lot of women or men
on this campus.  What's the big deal with Mead?"

Beginning to get pissed, I said, "I won't bother telling you all the things
I love about Tim.  Just understand that I love him.  We're partners.  We'd
get married if there were any way to do that.  That's called `commitment.'"

I was about to tell him he was a cute guy and that I hoped he could find
someone, but he responded to what I had just said.

"Aw, come on, stud.  He'd never have to know.  Besides, you think he isn't
doin` some foolin' around on the side?  Bet he gets himself some white meat
once in a while."

I laughed and stood up.  "Emerson, I'm sorry you are so desperate.  But you
just don't understand what commitment is.  I hope you find yourself a good
man.  Really I do.  But this conversation is over."

I grabbed up my towel and headed for the showers.  Sneaky was still hard,
so I had to hold my towel in front of me.

* * *

DANTE:

When Jared first came to work in the ER, I wasn't very nice to him.  He
looked and acted like a whipped puppy with his tail between his legs.  We
all knew why he was there and what he had done, so of course no one was
much disposed to like him.  When they assigned him to me, I just thought
this kid would be a pain in the ass.  I had known him casually in high
school, and he seemed really immature.  When he began to run around with
Cousins and Passinger, I figured he was just as much bad news as they were.

As I showed him the ropes, though, he seemed so eager to do a good job and
to learn what I was teaching him that I began to like him a little.  And he
WAS adorable.  Tall, skinny, blond, blue-eyed, he'd grown too fast and
didn't have good coordination yet, so he was a little gangly.  But he was
SO cute.  And I quickly began to realize that he was a sweet guy.  Then I
noticed his tight little butt and nice package.  I'd figured out from the
beginning that he was gay, and when I told him I knew it, he seemed so
happy.  Happy to know someone else who was gay.  He'd been in denial for a
long time, and he'd only come out to his family and to Steve Metz recently.
So, I guess I was in the right place at the right time, and he began to
sort of hero worship me, I think.

My feelings for him went from annoyance to indifference to lust in the
space of a few days.  And, of course, the better I got to know him, the
better I liked him.  Now I love him.  I know, we're too young to be saying
that, but that's the way I feel.

It's tough working with him because we just want to grope each other and
suck face all the time, and that's not why we're there.  And I worry that
he'll get in trouble because of me and then Judge Flowers will be pissed
with him.  I sure don't want that to happen.

We've gone to see that priest at the Episcopal Church, Father Max.  He's
cool.  I like him, and I felt good that Jare and I could talk with him.
Wish the priest at my church was a young guy and understanding like Father
Max.

It helped a lot that Max is gay.

On New Year's Eve when Jared was so sick, it scared me to death.  He looked
awful, and I felt so helpless.  But that's when I knew how strong my
feelings really were for him.  I couldn't stand to think of losing him, and
I wanted so much to help him.  Thank God that all happened at the hospital,
and he got the attention he needed right away.

New Year's Day he was pretty much out of it.  The day after that, though, I
spent as much time as I could with him.  I'd kick off my shoes and lie
beside him on his bed, holding him.  Even his parents seemed cool with
that.  I think they figured out when they got to the hospital on New Year's
morning and saw how upset I was, that Jared and I are boyfriends.

Now that he's completely recovered, he's gone back to being that playful
puppy.  One day I walked into "our" closet, and he was sitting on a box of
supplies with his scrubs and underwear pulled down around his ankles.  He
was leaning back with his elbows on some shelves behind him, and his boner
was sticking up.  Jared's got big, low-hanging balls, and his cock, which
isn't more than about five and a half inches hard, is pretty much a normal
size.  But it's real sort of pink and smooth.  His pubes are a little
darker than the hair on his head, light brown instead of dirty blond.

When I came in, he took his hand and sort of wagged his dick back and forth
and said, "Hi, stud.  Look what I've got for you!"

I wanted to dive onto his lap and start sucking on that tempting cock, but
discretion ruled, for once, so I leaned back against the door, crossed my
arms over my chest, and said, "Jared, you idiot, put that thing back in
your pants!"

He put on his pouty face.  "Awww.  You don't like it?"

"Baby, I LOVE it.  I'm about to choke on my own saliva.  I want that in my
mouth SO bad.  But you know we can't do that yet."

"Aw, fuck!"

I giggled.  "Yeah, that, too.  But we agreed we'd wait.  If it will help,
think of me in prison being the personal bitch of some big guy named
Bubba."

"No way!"

"So, we gotta wait till your birthday."

He had stood and pulled up his boxers and scrub pants by that time.  "Yeah,
I guess you're right.  I just think I'll melt down sometimes."


Jared and I want to celebrate his eighteenth birthday by making love.  I
don't know where we're going to be able to do that since we both live with
our parents, but we are determined that we'll find a way to mark the
occasion by doing the things with each other that we've been avoiding
because he's under age.  If we both don't explode first.  I can't go to
Father Max because he's told us he doesn't believe in what he calls casual
sex.  He doesn't seem to think that what Jared and I have will last.  I
could save up a little money so we could go to one of the cheap motels on
the edge of town, but that's so tacky.  I'd like our first real sex to be
nicer than that.  I've just got to figure out something.

* * *

KENT:

It was a Monday night.  Stefan's was closed, and I'd been looking up some
stuff at the law school library.  I left a little before ten and stopped by
Noplace, which was becoming a popular hangout for a few of my friends.  I
hoped I'd see some of them that evening, for I felt more like having a
drink and talking than going back to my empty apartment.

The place wasn't crowded, maybe because it was a Monday night, so I got a
sapphire martini and went to a booth.  I hadn't been there long when Philip
came in.  He spotted me, waved, stopped to visit with some guys he
apparently knew at a table up front, then stopped by the bar, got a draft
beer, and came toward me.

"Hey, stud, how's it hangin'," he asked as he slid into the booth opposite
me.

Not taking the question literally, I said, "I'm OK, Philip.  How are you
and Geoff doing?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he took a sip of his beer.  "Things are
great, actually.  Geoffie's, well, he's . . . so eager."

"Hey, what about me?  Are you saying I wasn't interested enough in you?"

"No way, stud!  It's just that Geoff, well, he's 23 and he's never had sex
before, man or woman.  He's trying to make up for it all at once.  You've
never seen `eager' until you've been with Geoffie."

I chuckled.  "Doesn't sound so bad.  Geoff's a hot guy.  Count yourself
lucky he likes you."

"Oh," he said, taking a longer pull on his beer, "I do, I do."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, people watching.  Through my
peripheral vision I could see that Philip was looking intently at me.  I
wondered what that was all about.  Then I asked him something I'd been
wanting to put to him for a month or more.

"Hey, I have a question for you."

"What`s that?"

"All those guys that you went to Florida with."

"Yeah, what about them?"

"Did they know that you were going to out them?"

He looked hurt.  "No fair!  I didn't out them."

"You may as well have said they were all gay."

"I very carefully didn't say that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know.  You said that some of them were gay and some
weren't."

"Exactly."

"But, Philip, you know that to the homophobe population, guilty by
association prevails."

"You're sounding more and more like a lawyer, stud."

"Maybe so, but you know what I mean.  Mark Mason is as straight as they
come, but everybody who saw your article and the picture and its caption is
going to assume that Mark is gay.  He's likely to take a lot of shit from
his teammates when baseball practice begins."

"Well, his old man's gay and his best friend's gay, so apparently he's used
to dealing with it.  Besides, he's always with that Lori."

"No one knew about Cedric Jones until you suggested in your article that
most of those guys who went down there were gay."

"I never said that."

"You surely implied it."

"Besides, Jones and his lover, that little English prof, went to an English
Department party at Christmas time as a couple, so they must have been
already out."

"Philip, your logic sucks, man.  They may have decided to come out because
your article had already implied they were gay."

"Well, gay people should be out.  In this day and age it's a crime to be in
the closet!"

"Oh, shit, Halifax, you don't have any right to make claims like that.
It's their business and nobody else's whether they're gay or straight or
whatever."

He grinned at me.  "Well, Kent, I guess we'll just have to agree to
disagree on that point."

I sipped my martini, not exactly comfortable with where our conversation
had gone, but not eager to go back to my empty apartment.  Philip went back
for another beer after offering to bring me another martini.  I thanked him
but refused.

"So," he asked as he slid back into the booth, "how's your sex life been
lately?"

"Since you moved on to Geoff, I haven't had a goddamned sex life."

"Hey, Kent, you knew what we had wasn't anything serious, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we were just fuckbuddies.  I wasn't complaining.  I had no illusions
that what we had was anything else.  But you asked, and I was just telling
you the truth."

He took a drink of his beer and looked around the room.  It was almost as
if he were studying the patrons of the bar to remember who was there.

Then he lowered his eyelids and looked at me suggestively.  "You know,
stud, it doesn't have to be that way."

I knew what he meant, but I wanted him to spell it out.  "What do you
mean?"

"C'mon, Kent.  Looking at you gets me as hard as it ever did.  Why don't
you come back to my place this evening?  Or I could come to yours.
Geoffie'll never know."

I finished my martini and pushed the glass away from me.  "I told you
before you ever picked up Benton that you would probably hurt him.  For all
your being the campus gay crusader, Philip, you're really pretty
insensitive.  We had good sex, you and I, but I'm not having anything to do
with your hurting Geoff."

He looked startled, as if it had never occurred to him that he was doing
anything reprehensible.

"I thought maybe you felt something for Geoff that would make you stay with
him, that you two could become a real couple.  But I should have known
better.  I wonder, Philip, if you are capable of having a monogamous
relationship with anybody."

He grinned.  "Well, Kent, Geoff's a really sweet kid.  Actually, he's a
couple of years older than you and me, but I think of him as a kid.  And he
really is . . . enthusiastic.  But you sound as if you are talking
commitment, and, well, I'm sure I'm not ready for that yet."

"Does Geoff know that?"

"We haven't talked about it.  I assumed he did."

"Look, if you aren't planning to stay with him, you owe it to him to tell
him that.  You're going to let him in for a lot for hurt if you don't."

"I'm not ready to break it off with him.  He's such a sweet guy, and he's
really great in bed."

"Well, what the fuck do you want?  He's a sweet guy, he's great in bed, but
you're still looking for other partners?"

Philip set his mug down and looked at me.  "I know, Kent, it sucks.  I
guess that's just the way I am.  Don't know when I'm well off, I guess."

"Well, let me give you some advice for old time's sake.  Geoff Benton is a
great-looking guy.  You say he's great in bed.  And he thinks you are the
greatest thing since sliced bread.  You should realize how lucky you are
and not go around looking for a new hole to plug every night."

He grinned and put his hands, palms up, on the table between us.

"What can I say?"

"Say `goodnight,' Gracie," I said.

* * *

Cedric and Tim had been reading in their living room.  Cedric put down his
book.  "Hey, hon."

Tim put his book in his lap, took off his glasses, and said, "Yeah?"

"Did the guys really shove a carrot up your ass?"

Tim blushed.  "Why on earth are you asking me that now?"

Cedric grinned.  "Well, li'l stud, I never saw those pictures.  I gave you
the disk that Sunday morning, and you destroyed it.  But, you know, I've
always wondered . . . ."

Tim looked thoughtfully at his partner but didn't say anything.

"It should be an easy question to answer, Timmy."

"Oh, yes, they did."

"With the top still on it?"

"Yes, you sadist, with the top still on it."

Cedric was relieved that his lover was smiling.  "So, why the long pause?"

"I've been debating something with myself."

"Who won the debate?" Cedric asked, grinning.

"I'm not sure, but I think you did."

Before Cedric had the chance to point out the illogic of Tim's answer, Tim
said, "Let's go upstairs."

"Bedtime!  I can dig that!"

"Not bedtime yet.  I'm going to prove how much I love you."

"Awww, Tim, sweetheart, you never have to prove that.  I KNOW, baby, I
know!"

"Nevertheless, you asked, so come along."

Tim led Cedric to their computer room, brought his pc back from "standby,"
rummaged through his CD ROMS, and popped one into the drawer.

"Sit down, Ced, and enjoy the show."

Tim called up the picture viewer and set it to run a "slide show" of the
disk.  He stood behind Cedric, lightly running his fingertips through the
short hair at the base of his neck.

"Oh, my God!" Cedric exclaimed.  He wasn't commenting on the tingly
feelings Tim was giving him.  Rather, he was exclaiming over the picture
that popped up on the screen.

Tim looked at the picture too, and it was as if a cold hand grabbed his
stomach and squeezed.  It showed Tim leaning back in the desk chair in his
office.  There was a large, glistening cum stain in the front of his light
poplin pants.  He had cum on his shirt, in his hair, and on his face.
There was even cum smeared on the lenses of his glasses.  (See chapters 1
and 2.)

"Tim!  You kept the disk!  Why would you do that?"

"Well, when you gave it to me that Sunday morning, you swept me off my
feet, literally, and made love to me all day.  The next day I was so
euphoric over what we had done, I forgot all about the disk.  Then, I
thought I should keep it in case I wanted to press charges against Mark,
Trey, and Chaz."

"What made you decide not to do that?"

"You, mostly.  I was so overwhelmed by you and by our sex that I forgot
about the disk.  Then, a few days later, when I found it, I realized I
couldn't go to the college or the town authorities without showing them
what was on the disk."

"I see.  So, why didn't you destroy it then?"

"I'm not sure.  I just hid it away and thought I'd deal with it later.
Then I more or less forgot about it until tonight."

"Look, sweetheart, we don't have to do this."

"Yeah, I know.  But you are so much a part of me, I want you to see these
pictures."

"Are you trying to make me furious all over again with my brothers?"

Tim looked reproachfully at Cedric.  "You know better than that.  I love
them, too, Ced.  Since you expressed curiosity downstairs a few minutes
ago, I just thought it was time for you to see them."

"OK, if you're sure."

Tim grabbed the mouse and clicked to continue the "show."  He resumed
kneading Cedric's neck and shoulders as the procession of pictures flashed
across the screen.  The next sequence was of Tim doing a strip tease,
looking at the camera coyly in various poses.

"Shit!  Why did you do that?"

"I think it must have been the roofies.  You know they already had that
first picture with all the cum, and they threatened to distribute it all
over campus if I didn't do what they wanted.  But by that point I was in a
`what the hell' state of mind and just went along with it."

"Well, stud, you've got Sneaky really interested in the rest of the show."

There were pictures of Tim in various poses, including several with the
infamous carrot.

"Sheesh, Tim.  That's so hot.  Can I go see if we've got some carrots?"

Tim put his hands around Cedric's throat and began to squeeze hard.

"Gawwwkkk!  I'm sorry.  I didn't meant it."

Tim released his grip and laughed.  "I might be persuaded to get into that
position without the carrot, if you can think of an appropriate
substitute."

"Oh, yeah, just as soon as the show's over, you can give me a REAL show!"
Then Cedric re-started the slide show.  Most of the remaining pictures were
of Tim masturbating.  And then the show ended.

"What about the Saturday night?"

Tim swatted Cedric lightly on the side of his head.  "Mark opted out after
Friday night, so Trey and Chaz lost their photographer.  And they were too
busy that evening to take pictures."  (See chapter 3.)

Cedric stood and pulled Tim to him.  "Oh, God, babe, I can't believe they
did that to you."

Tim noted that Cedric had a pronounced stiffie but didn't say anything bout
it.  "Well, it shows how much all three of them love you, Ced.  I have to
admire them for that.  And that's all water under the bridge now.  I love
those guys, as you well know.  So, to quote The Bard . . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, professor, `All's Well that Ends Well.'"

"Yep."

"But you know, Tim, I think Trey may have had his own agenda."

"That makes Trey sound more self serving than he is, Ced.  I know he had
feelings for me, and we've talked about that.  He and I have this special
`thing.'"

"I know you do, but I can't say I understand it.  It's like you two can
read each other's minds."

"Yes.  The only analogy I can think of is that it's like twins, who can
often share each other's thoughts and feelings.  Trey and I are like that."

"Well, babe, I understand what you are saying.  And you know I love the
Tiger.  But I don't think he'd say `no' if you invited him into bed."

"I'm not so sure of that.  You know how much he loves Chaz.  I mean, look
how miserable he was when they were estranged a few weeks ago."

"Maybe so.  I think Tiger does love Chaz, but I suspect he still has the
hots for you, too."

"I doubt that.  I feel as if Trey is the brother I never had.  In a sense,
he and I are connected in a way that you and I aren't.  But you, Cedric,
are my mate, my partner, my lover.  Not Trey.  YOU.  Got that?"

Cedric pulled Tim into another tight hug, grinding his cock against Tim's
midsection.

"Yeah, I got it.  But it's always nice to be reminded."

After a long kiss, Cedric swatted Tim on the rump.  "Now, Mead, get naked
and assume the `carrot position.'  I think I've got just the substitute to
shove up your sweet little white boy butt."

The next morning Tim woke up and began sucking on one of Cedric's big nips.
Both men were hard.  They went to the bathroom and joined their streams
into the toilet.  After a swish of mouthwash each, they returned to bed for
a long session of kissing.  When they paused for breath, Tim reversed his
position and they had an even longer period of 69ing.  Even though both had
come just before they went to sleep, both drained their balls again as a
result of their mutual fellatio.

They showered and then worked together to fix breakfast.  Since winter had
arrived in earnest, Cedric didn't fix breakfast wearing only an apron
anymore.  Tim missed that beautiful sight, but he sympathized with Cedric's
reasons.

As they put their breakfast things in the dishwasher, Tim asked, "Now, you
know the agenda?"

"Yes, mother.  You'll bring Dr. Modarelli back here about 5:00, and we'll
take him to Stefan's.  But are you sure you want me to be involved?"

"Not only do I want you involved, but Gwen practically ordered us to do
this together."

"Well, I would like to meet him.  From what you've told me, he sounds like
an interesting guy.  But why would Doc Gwen want me involved?  What if this
guy's a homophobe?"

Tim chuckled.  "Ced, baby, Gwen doesn't miss much.  She picked up on the
two of us right away.  So think!  Why do you suppose she wants Modarelli to
spend an evening with you and me?"

Cedric beamed.  "The Italian stud's gay, and she wants us to have a
three-way?"

When he finished laughing, Tim responded, "Well, I think you're half right.
It did occur to me that he might be gay.  We'll just have to see what kind
of vibes we pick up."

"OK, boss.  I'll be here when you get home this afternoon.  Do you want me
to get some of those miniature quiches and pop them in the oven?"

"No, thanks, babe.  I'll get a cheesecake from Fein's, and we can come back
here after dinner if he's not too worn out from a day of being on the hot
seat."

"Speaking of hot seats," Cedric commented, reaching around and grabbing
Tim's butt, "Sneaky and I certainly enjoyed our visit to yours last night."

Tim's reply was stifled by a kiss.

* * *

PHILIP:

`I can't believe I just invited Kent to come home with me!

Halifax, what the fuck were you thinking?  You weren't thinking, obviously,
or else thinking with your dick.  What were you going to do, fuck him for
old time's sake?  No, not that either.  You wanted him to fuck you, didn't
you?"

Well, yeah.

Why?

Because his technique's better than G's.

You're such a shit!  You know Geoff will improve, and you've got to admit
he's eager to learn, and he wants to please you.

Yeah, yeah.  Enough already.  I'm a shit.  Like I said, I can't believe I
did that.  I didn't actually stalk Geoff, but I did go to all his meets and
his concerts just so I could stare at him.  And then I just now came on to
Kent.

Go on, you know that's not all.

I had some kind of flash that day when the sun hit his hair just right.  He
really is an angel.  He has such a sweet, affectionate nature, and that
afternoon he totally looked the part.

And that butt you had a Johnson for all those months.  Was it worth it?

Oh, yeah!  I'm hard right now thinking about it.  Geoff's butt in his
Speedo.  Geoff's butt when he's on all fours, wagging it at me.  Geoff's
butt when I've got my face in it . . . .

And you just tried to renew your fuck buddy relationship with Statten?

No, I don't think that was it.  I think I just wanted a one-off with him.

Look, dumbass, you'd better get your head on straight.  You've had all the
casual sex you ever wanted since you were fifteen.  Now you've found a guy
that is different, a guy you might have a real, meaningful, hopefully
long-term relationship with.

I KNOW!  That's absolutely true.  I want that with G.  And it scares me
shitless!

* * *

TREY:

Chaz and some of his teammates decided to take a busman's holiday.  One
night when they didn't have a game, they went to Akron to St. Mary's High
School to watch a phenom named LeBron James play.  They asked me to come,
but I begged off.  I go see all of Chaz's home games, but I didn't
particularly want to go to a high school game that evening, no matter who
was playing.

Feeling somewhat at loose ends, I decided to go to Noplace for a
cheeseburger and fries.  You can't eat healthy all the time, right?

When I got there, I spotted Max, in "civvies" in a booth by himself.  He
smiled and motioned me over.

"Hey, Max.  David on the road again?"

"Well, yeah, figuratively anyway.  He's in Chicago.  Again.  So, sit.  It's
good to see you.  Where's Chaz?"

I explained where the big guy was.  I noticed that Max was having fish and
chips, so I ordered the same thing.  Grease is grease, after all.

As we munched, I asked Max how Jared was doing.  He explained that Jared
was fully recovered from his ruptured appendix, back in school, and back at
work at the hospital.  Then he chuckled.

"What's funny?"

"You know about Dante, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you know they're waiting until early March, when Jared turns
eighteen, to have sex."

"Uh huh.  You told me about that."

"I think both of them are in a bad way.  The hormones are really raging
between those two.  Dan says they both understand why they need to wait,
but, as he says, `Father, it gets harder every day.'"

I laughed.  "I'll just bet it does!  So do you think they'll manage to
wait?"

"Apart from some kissing and groping they both assure me they've abstained
so far.  The big concern now seems to be where they'll do it.  Both sets of
parents know the guys are gay, but the boys don't want to have their first
sex in either of their homes."

"Well, I can understand that.  You know, if they need money for a room at a
nice hotel, I'd be glad to take care of that."

"That's generous of you, Trey.  I'll tell them you offered."

When we finished our meal, I invited Max back to the apartment, and he
agreed to come.  Apparently he was feeling at loose ends, too.

We took off our coats, and I put them in the closet by the door.  Max
looked great in his jeans, pale yellow sweater, and rough leather
ankle-high boots.  I decided, not for the first time, that David was a
lucky man.  As I came to know Max better, I also came to understand why Tim
loved and respected him so.  Besides, he was a hot little package.

I offered him coffee and carrot cake (from Fein's, of course), or beer, or
wine.  He said he'd like a glass of wine.  I asked if he'd like some
Australian shiraz, and he said that sounded good.  Pleased to find a fellow
wine lover (Chaz would drink wine with me, but he was basically a beer
drinker), I uncorked the Black Opal and poured us each a glass.  I set the
bottle on the coffee table and asked if Max would like anything with it.

"No, Trey, I'm not hungry after what we had at Noplace.  But a good glass
of red is always a treat, isn't it?"

A man after my own heart, as they say.

Raising his glass to me, Max asked, "How's Steve?  I haven't seen him since
our trip to Florida."

"Steve's a happy camper these days."

"How so?"

"You know he got a last-minute invitation to go to Erie and spend the New
Year holiday with Rebecca and her family?"

"Yes, Tim told us that at the New Year's Eve party."

"Apparently Rebecca had been allowing their fooling around to go only so
far all fall, and Steve, who really likes her, was becoming more and more
frustrated."

"Sounds like Jared and Danny, in a way," Max said, grinning.

"Yeah, I guess it does.  Anyway, Steve says they did the deed at her house.
She came into his bedroom, climbed into bed with him, and spent the night."

"Nice surprise for Steve."

"For sure!  But, as he said, he rose to the occasion, and now they're doing
it regularly.  He says he's really glad he has his apartment all to
himself.  No roommate problems when Becky decides to stay over."

"And you think they're serious?"

"Yes, padre, Steve says they are."

"Then that's great!"

I was getting warm, so I pulled off my sweater and invited Max to do the
same.  He did.  I took off my shoes, and he followed suit.  Then I turned
down the thermostat a little.

In jeans and a tight tee shirt, Max was an inviting sight.  About Tim's
height and almost as tiny in the hips, Max was much more muscular.  He had
great shoulders, arms, and chest.  I could even see his six-pack through
his tee.  I propped my sock feet on the coffee table, so he did the same.
He clasped his hands behind his head, and I could see wisps of chestnut
colored hair from his pits sticking out of the sleeves of his tee.
Naturally, I began to get hard.

"Trey, tell me if I'm out of line, but I'm really curious about something."

"OK, shoot."

"It's pretty personal."

"Well, ask.  I'll tell you if it's too personal."

"Your relationship with Tim intrigues me.  You know, I don't know how you
guys ever came together.  I've inferred that something really strange
happened, after which you all bonded."

"Max, I can't tell you about that.  I'll be ashamed of my part in all of
that for the rest of my life.  But Tim will have to tell you about it if
anyone does."

"OK.  I really didn't mean to pry.  What I was going to ask about is this
special thing you and Tim seem to have now."

"Oh, I think I can tell you about that."  I poured us each another glass of
wine.  I noticed that Max's feet were a size or so bigger than Tim's, and
that his package looked impressive in his jeans.  "First of all, Max, I
have to tell you that I understand how very special you and Tim are to each
other."

He smiled at me and said, "Yeah, Trey, you would know that."

"I've also got to tell you that a year ago at this time, I really had a
thing for Tim.  A crush, as people used to say.  Or, if you prefer, a case
of the hots.  I thought he was sexy, I was overwhelmed by his knowledge,
his teaching ability, his intellect."

Max appeared to be fascinated.  "I can understand all that, Trey, believe
me.  So what happened?"

"Ced happened."

He took a sip of his shiraz and waited for me to continue.

"You know that Ced, Chaz, Mark, and I have been best friends since freshman
year."

"Uh huh."

"Well, Ced and I were both in the same class of Tim's.  Ced confessed to me
one day that he was deeply in love with Tim, and that he'd felt that way
since the previous semester, when he'd had his first class with the little
prof.  Now that you have me thinking about it, it was Cedric who persuaded
me to take that course with Tim.  I was a business major at the time and
wouldn't have thought of taking the modern lit course without Ced urging me
to do it."

"So you both were attracted to Tim?"

I emptied my glass and refilled both our glasses.  "That's putting it
mildly.  I thought Tim was fantastic!  I wanted to spend hours talking with
him and even more hours in bed with him.  And you need to keep in mind that
I'd been into the dating scene throughout high school and for the first two
and a half years of college.  I'd always stifled any attraction I felt for
other guys.  But what I felt for Tim was so strong I had to admit that I'm
gay, bi, whatever."

Max smiled somewhat sadly.  "I can relate to that.  So what happened?"

"My brother Cedric had prior claim, so I withdrew."

Max swirled the wine around in his glass and then stared at it, watching it
gradually settle down.  "Trey, you remind me of Sidney Carton.  That was a
noble thing you did."

"I wouldn't say noble.  But, as I said, my brother got there first.  And
I've got Chaz, so all four of us are happy."

"Not so fast!  I know how much Tim loves Cedric, and I think I understand
how things are with you and Chaz.  But you and Tim do have something
. . . ."

I finished my shiraz and smiled.  "Yeah, Max, and you won't believe it."

"Try me."

"Let me open another bottle of this stuff.  I think our talk may take a
while longer."

"Fine by me."

When we had full glasses from the new bottle, I continued.  "Max, Tim and I
have fucked each other . . . with witnesses."  He looked surprised and
started to say something.  I held up my hand.  "That's Timmy's story to
tell.  I'll just say it was sort of like claiming each other.  We have a
powerful bond, but it's not sexual anymore.  He's Ced's and I know that.
I'm happy and sexually fulfilled with Chaz."

"But . . . "

"But Tim and I have had remarkably similar dreams about each other.  And
here's the part you may have trouble with.  Most of the time when we're
together and sometimes when we aren't, I know what he's thinking.  And it's
even freakier.  He really fucks with my brain when he tells me what I've
been thinking.  What do you make of that?"

Max smiled dreamily.  "Never underestimate the spiritual realm, Trey.
Love, friendship, understandings, connections . . . all these are divine
gifts.  Just be grateful for the connection you and Tim have and use it
wisely."

"Oh, I'm grateful.  I feel closer to Tim than I do my own brother.  I love
Robbie, but what Tim and I have is amazing."

"Amazing only to those who are too rational."

I took a swallow of the red and pondered.  "I've never thought of it that
way.  And, of course, my favorite English prof is a logic-oriented guy."

Max grinned.  "Don't I know it!  How often we used to talk about the
rational and irrational elements of the human make-up.  But you know as
well as I do, Trey, what a big heart he has.  He just won't admit it."

My turn to grin.  "Oh, do I ever know what you mean!"

We both sipped our wine in silence for a few minutes.  I felt very close to
Max, close enough that we could sit there in companionable silence.
Finally, however, I put to him the question I'd wanted answered for a very
long time.

"OK, Max.  Isn't it time for you to tell me about your thing for Tim?"

He looked startled.  "My `thing' for Tim?"

"Yeah," I said, grinning.  "You aren't going to deny it, are you?"

"Trey, Tim's my best friend.  Has been since freshman year at Kenyon.  I'm
SO happy we're back in each other's lives.  But my `thing' for him . . . ?"

"Max, you can't shit me.  I know about Andrew, and I know how much his loss
has hurt you.  I can also see that you and David are happy together, and
that's great.  But you aren't going to get away with telling me that you
and Tim are just `best friends.'  I know with you it's more than that."

He took something bigger than a sip of the red and then stared into the
glass for so long I thought he wasn't going to answer me.

"You really should get a crystal ball, you know.  You have remarkable
insight, Trey.  I use `insight' to keep the discussion in the realm of the
rational."

I knew this wasn't the time to interrupt.

"Timmy and I have said to each other how sad it is that neither of us knew
the other was gay when we were together at Kenyon."

"Yeah, I know."

"I loved him then, Trey.  I was able to be with him a lot.  But I wanted
more.  All the physical stuff.  He was a better runner than me, but I got
to see his ass twisting inside those skimpy shorts we wore, and I crossed
the finish line with a woodie more than once."

"But you never said anything."

"Nor did he.  You know what it's like for gays.  One is mortally afraid of
ruining a friendship, so he never tells his friend how he really feels."

"Uh huh."

"I'm the one who let the friendship lapse.  Tim wrote to me at my home
address when we were both in grad school.  My dad forwarded his letter on
to me.  I didn't answer.  Dear God, I wish now I had.  But at the time I
thought it was best to move on, to try to forget how much I loved him, and
I couldn't do that if we were going to correspond.  It was even worse when
I found out that he was in Palo Alto while I was in Berkeley.  So close!"

Tears came to my eyes as he told me that.  I moved over to the sofa, sat
beside him, put my arm around his shoulder.  "And now, Max?"

He rested his head on my shoulder.  "David's a wonderful guy.  I love him.
I really do.  But if Tim weren't with Ced . . . ."  He began to weep
gently.  I patted his head and held him.

After a while, he sat up and gave me a teary smile.  "Hey, it's late, and I
should be going home."

"No way, padre.  We've killed two bottles of red, and you're staying here.
You can have the spare bedroom."

I got him clean towels and a fresh toothbrush and kissed him on the
forehead.  After making sure that he had everything he needed, I brushed my
teeth, peed, undressed, and got into bed.  I think I was asleep as soon as
my head hit the pillow.

I woke up, though, when Chaz climbed in with me.

"Hey, babe."

"Hey yourself," he said, ruffling my hair.  "What have you been up to?
Who's in the other bedroom?"

"It's Max.  He and I had a long and well-lubricated talk this evening, and
I wouldn't let him drive home."

"I'll bet you two talked about how much you both love the little prof."

"And I'm supposed to be the one with the special insight!"

He put his arms around me.  "Tiger, I wouldn't say I had anything like
`special insight,' but I know you pretty well."

"Then you know I want you to fuck me."

"Yep."  He squeezed me real tight.  And then he fucked me.


Later, as we were lying there holding each other and I had my nose in his
chest hair, Chaz said, "What we've got is pretty good, isn't it?"

"It's just about the best thing there is, big guy."

"And you don't mean only the sex, do you?"

"Nope.  I think Max said it this evening, something like `love and
friendship are divine gifts.'"

"The little padre's got that right!"  He was quiet for a moment, and I
thought he was going to sleep.  Then he said, "You know, babe, love may be
a gift from God, but relationships take some work, don't they?"

I nuzzled his fuzzy chest and said, "Yeah, Chaz, they do.  But when you've
got the right guy, they're definitely worth the effort."

He chuckled, squeezed me, and said, "Goodnight, Tiger."


[To be continued.]