Date: Sun, 27 Jan 2002 00:32:57 -0800 (PST)
From: writnword@yahoo.com
Subject: The Human Condition Chapter 2

Author's note:

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any person living or dead is
purely coincidental.  This is also a story that eventually includes graphic
sexual scenes mainly of a homosexual nature but, where appropriate to the
story, also of heterosexual and bisexual encounters.  If you are underage
or it is illegal for you to read such writing, stop now.  For those of you
who are continuing, be further warned that this is a novel with plot,
character development and has a very, very slow introduction to the sexual
elements of the story.  If you're looking for a stroke piece you need to
look elsewhere.

The author reserves all rights to this story but will allow others to
repost this work to any free Internet sites that wish to use it as long as
full credit to the writer is given.

New addition to authors note:

When I posted Chapter One I said that although I probably couldn't respond,
I would welcome all emails.  Another author wrote to me and pointed out how
unfair of me to expect feedback with no promise of acknowledgment.  I
apologize for this.  It was not my intent to make anyone think I was
uninterested in what they have to say.  Actually, I always had every
intention of responding to any and all comments or criticism, I just wasn't
sure if I'd be able to do so in a timely manner and I thought it would be
better to say I might not answer rather than have anybody think I was
ignoring them.  Obviously, I was wrong.  So I promise, if anybody out there
is reading this and wants to talk to me about it, I'll answer them.  And to
those of you who already have, thank you, I know I've said it to you all
personally, but it means a great deal to me that you like this story.

jfinn





The Human Condition


Chapter Two


	The alarm went off for the third and last time.  If I hit the
snooze again it would automatically shut itself off.  I had the choice of
resetting it completely or getting up.  I swore softly and sat upright.

	Joe didn't move a muscle.  It was amazing to me that he never heard
the buzz that damn clock made.  Especially, when he always seemed to manage
to wake up on time whenever I wasn't around.  I looked at him.  Yep, still
sleeping like a baby.  That is, if the baby in question looked like a
matinee idol.

	A breeze from the open window tugged at the curtain. The movement
caught my eye and I watched the material billow and catch on the frame of a
picture of us taken almost three years ago to the day.  God, has it really
been that long?  At thirty three, I was becoming increasingly aware of the
speed at which my days seemed to move.  But, I sighed contentedly, they
were full days and rich with the life I had been so fortunate to have been
given.

	I looked back at my sleeping lover.  The movement of the curtain
had allowed a shaft of sunlight to enter the room.  It fell over Joe's
body, but he was still oblivious.  I traced the play of light and shadow on
the planes of his face with my eyes.  His morning beard gleamed gold on his
tanned skin.  His lips were red and slightly swollen from our early morning
love making, parted just enough to show the hint of very white teeth.  His
lids were closed and hid those bright blue eyes I loved so much, but there
was movement under the skin.  I hoped the dream was of me.

	Carefully, I slipped from between the silk sheets I'd made so much
fun of when my sister had given them to us the previous Christmas.  I
wondered now if she could ever imagine the pleasure we'd found in them.
The thought made me grin.  Knowing Sarah, she probably had a half a dozen
sets herself and no doubt knew first hand what a turn on they were.

	I stood and stretched, lazy and naked.  The wind blew again through
the window and the drape shook rattling the frame of the picture that had
captured it.  I went to the wall and carefully untangled the curtain.
After a moment's consideration, I removed the picture from the nail and
placed it carefully on the dresser.  Some memories are so important that
extra precautions should be used to protect them.

	Joe stirred and murmured on the bed.  I looked back at him.  His
eyes were open but he looked as if he were still wavering between sleep and
full consciousness.

	His eyes shifted as he took in my state of undress.

	"Mmmm," he said softly, "your wearing my favorite outfit."

	I laughed.

	"Come back to bed."  He patted the covers invitingly.

	"Nope.  It's 8:30.  Time to start the day.  Get up."

	"Aw come on Dad," he smiled a sleepy smile, "just five more
minutes."

	I rolled my eyes, but I knew I wasn't going to push it.

	"Okay, I'll take my shower first, but then you've got to get
moving."

	"You're a real nag sometimes, you know that?"  Joe rolled over on
his side and grimaced.

	But I noticed as I headed to the bathroom that he'd grabbed my
pillow and was breathing in my scent.  A wave of tenderness washed over me
and it left me breathless and I leaned into the door frame remembering.

	We had been together over 10 years now, and the day to day grind
had taken its toll as it does on all couples.  There were periods when we
took each other for granted, others when we bickered and even days where we
couldn't stand the sight of each other.  But then there were moments like
now.  When my heart would race because I'd heard his key in the lock.  When
he'd follow me from room to room as if he couldn't bear to be out of my
sight.  When our bodies demanded the touch of the only person who could
truly satisfy them.  These were the moments we cherished.  The memories
they created saw us through the bad times.

	It seems impossible to me now that I ever doubted this man I love
so dearly.  But it was true.  And once, for a couple of very painful days,
I didn't believe we could even be friends...


Thanksgiving Day, 1985

	I hadn't slept the night before or the night before that.  All I
could think of was Joe's face as he'd looked at me for the last time.  I
tried to tell myself it was just as well that our friendship was over.  It
would've caused nothing but problems for both of us.  You can imagine how
well that worked.  By turkey morning, I was having a full blown pity party.

	Sandy, one of the nurses, came in and gave me a bath.  She droned
on and on about Thanksgiving and what a shame it was that I had to spend it
here.  I wanted to strangle her.  Talk about a lousy bedside manner.
Finally, to save her life, I ordered her out of the room.  As she left, I
could swear I heard her laughing.  I'd never realized what a bitch she
could be!

	I dozed, ate, read, but I was restless.  The day stretched ahead
endlessly.  Because it was a holiday, there wouldn't be any treatments or
physical therapy.  I hated that stuff, trust me, but at least it had been
giving some definition to my days.  I didn't even have a roommate.  I'd
been moved out of the Burn Unit a few days before and into a semi, but with
the holiday everybody who could possibly be discharged had gone home.

	I flipped on the TV.  There was a parade on every channel.  I knew
there'd be some games on later, but for obvious reasons, I wasn't really up
for football.  I put on a robe and went out in the hall but there wasn't
anybody around.  The patients who'd stayed were generally too sick to be
mobile and the nurses must have been with them.

	I was only here because I had fresh skin grafts that needed
tending.  My burns had been, for the most part, superficial.  All except
for my right hand.  At first, there'd been a possibility I'd lose it.  But
with excellent care, and an amazing amount of luck, it looked like it would
heal with only minimal loss of function.  I'd need additional surgery down
the road, but the doctors were optimistic.  I guess it's amazing how well
the recuperative process works in a healthy 18 year old.

	If my family had been close enough, my doctor would probably have
even let me go home for the day.  And I had to admit that even though I
wasn't on the greatest terms with the parental units, it would have been
better than being stuck here.

	I went back to my room.  I thought about beating off.  I'd been
able to manage that again in the last few days, but my burns still hurt and
I had to be really horny to be willing to put up with the discomfort.  With
a sigh I lay back down and closed my eyes.

	I must have slept.  I opened my eyes to the sound of a commotion in
the hallway.  Must be some emergency, I thought groggily.  I glanced at the
clock, 1 PM.  Oh God, this day was never going to end.  My door flung open
and my 7 year old brother, Rob, catapulted into the room.

	"Surprise!"  He screamed as he threw himself on the bed.

	I looked past him to see the rest of my family and what looked like
the entire staff of the hospital, including Sandy the bitch, standing in my
doorway.  Everybody had these huge grins on their faces as they took in the
look of shock on my own mug.

	"What?"  My father boomed.  "You really thought we were going to
let you spend Thanksgiving alone?"

	I started to cry.  I couldn't help it.  All the loneliness and hurt
I thought I'd buried, erupted.  Intellectually, I knew my parents still
loved me, but it had been a long time since I'd felt emotionally connected
to my family.  It had never occurred to me they'd really want to be with me
today, but here they were.  I buried my face in my pillow as my shoulders
started to shake.

	They room got suddenly silent and I felt Rob slide from the bed
only to have his weight replaced with a heavier, softer body whose scent
I've known since the day I was born.  My mother's warm hands rubbed my back
until I turned.  She pulled me to her and stroked my hair as I continued to
cry, soaking her blouse.

	"Shhh baby," she crooned, "Mom's here now, and everything is going
to be okay."

	Damned if I didn't believe her.  It took me a few minutes to
compose myself though I saw no reason to take my head away from the comfort
of her breast.  We sat there in silence, tied together in that unfathomable
bond mothers have had with their children since Adam and Eve had their
first kid.

	"Where'd everybody else go?"  I finally said.

	"Down to the car, to get dinner."  She replied matter of factly.

	"What?"  I lifted my head.  "Don't tell me you hauled a turkey from
Pennsylvania?"

	"Of course."  Mom said it like it was the most natural thing in the
world.  "Your dad went over to Mr. Schwartz's, you know him, he has that
catering business.  He and your dad have become such good friends after
that business at the lodge..."

	"Mom!" She has a tendency to get off the subject.  "You're doing it
again."

	"Okay, your father borrowed some of those containers that keep food
hot or cold and yesterday I cooked and we loaded them up and after your dad
got home we just hopped in the car and here we are."

	My father has his own hardware store and he always works 8-7, five
days a week, with an extra 5 on Saturdays for good measure.  That meant,
that after a 11 hour day, he'd been willing to get in a car and drive all
the way to Michigan to see me.  I couldn't believe it.

	"We stopped in Ohio for the night but your father made everybody
get up at 5 AM to get back on the road."  She laughed.  "I don't think
Sarah is ever going to forgive him."

	My 14 year old sister was, and still is for that matter, a famous
bed hound.

	"I can't believe you did this."

	I spoke the words carelessly, but at the sound of them my mother's
soft stroking of my back stilled.

	"I wish it wasn't so hard for you to understand."  She said sadly.

	"Well Hell," my father's voice boomed from the doorway, "this looks
just like an episode of The Walton's I saw once."

	I reluctantly sat up and smiled at him.

	"Hey Dad."

	Like I said before, I got my olive coloring and build from my old
man but I'm a good five inches taller and he's ten pounds heavier.  His
hair is still black and curly though, with only a little bit of silver at
the edges.  His face is big and open with droopy brown eyes and a cute pug
nose that looks kinda silly on such a big tough Italian stallion. The
family name was originally Rossetti, until my grandfather decided if we
were going to live in America we needed an American name, as if there were
such a thing.

	The Zimmerman's, my mom's family are, like almost everybody else in
our small town, of German descent.  They are narrow faced with hooded eyes
and lipless mouths.  I inherited the first two features but not the last,
thank god.  My mom is a shorter softer version of her family's ancestry but
she is saved from their normal severity by her mouth which she got from her
mother.  It is wide and lush and she was kind enough to pass it on to me.

	My siblings, Sarah, Rob and eleven year old Andy are an unmatched
mix of the two families.  Sarah is blonde, Rob is dark, Andy has red hair,
though God knows where that came from.  None of us really match each other
but when you get us all together, you can definitely see we're related.

	As I was mulling over genetic traits, the rest of my family had
poured back in the room depositing boxes of food on every available surface
and were now trying to make a makeshift table out of the spare bed.  God
knows, if the mattress was as hard as the one I was lying on, it could
work.  I missed the burn unit's water beds.  A few minutes later we were
all standing around the "table" with me wrapped in a sheet, toga style,
while my father prepared to say grace.

	"Dear Lord..." he cleared his throat and started again.

	"Dear Lord, Thank you for this amazing bounty we are about to
share.  Thank you even more for the opportunity you have given us to
reunite once again.  Today we celebrate the strength and love we will
always have as long as we remember that anywhere we can be together is
enough to make a place home.  And we pray that you never let us forget that
being part of a family is the greatest blessing in life.  Amen."

	For my Dad, that was quite a speech.  My eyes filled again.  My
mother leaned across the makeshift table and stroked my arm.  Sarah and the
boys looked embarrassed and my father looked at me critically.  For a long
moment, nobody knew what to say.

	"Hell son," my Dad finally broke the silence, "I'd die for you.  In
comparison to that, coming to Michigan was relatively easy!"

	Everybody laughed and suddenly it was like the last couple years
faded into the past.  I was a part of this family, Dammit!

	I told them about school, they filled me in on all the gossip from
town, I teased Sarah, about her new boyfriend and Andy about Mindy
Finkbinder, who'd had a crush on him from the first day of kindergarten.
Through it all, we stuffed ourselves until Dad undid his pants and only Rob
was interested in what was for dessert.

	Dad and Sarah went out to get us some coffee, taking a couple of
shoofly pies with them for the nurses.  The rest of us tried to clear up
some of the mess.

	Rob found a can of whipped cream in one of the bags and proceeded
to squirt it in his mouth, his cheeks getting bigger and bigger until the
foam started to leak out making him look like a rabid dog.  Andy tried to
grab the can and Rob shot him with a thick stream of the stuff and hit him
right between the eyes.  Andy tackled him and my mother started bitching
and I was laughing when the phone rang.

	I picked up the receiver and shouted into it to make myself heard
over the screaming.

	"Yeah?"

	There was silence on the other end of the phone, or maybe I just
wasn't able to hear because of the noise.  I covered the mouthpiece with my
hand.

	"Hey, shut up you morons."  I yelled at my brothers.  "Can't you
see I'm on the phone?"

	They quieted down to a dull roar and I went back to my mystery
caller.

	"Sorry about that," I said, "a pack of wild animals invaded my room
and I can't find my whip or gun."

	"Mike?"  I got suddenly very still as I recognized the voice on the
other end of the phone.  My mother stopped trying to pry my brothers apart
and looked at me strangely.

	"Hi Joe."  I finally managed to croak out.

	Instantly, my brothers forgot about trying to kill each other and
ran to my side.

	"Is that Joe Lassiter?"  Andy asked me.  "Let me say hi to him."

	"You talked to him last time!"  Rob whined.  "It's my turn."

	"Why would he want to talk to a little kid like you?"  Andy asked
him scornfully.

	My mother came over and grabbed both boys and hustled them off to
the other side of the room.

	I was only dimly aware of any of this, you understand.  My whole
being was concentrated on what the man on the other side of the phone was
saying.  Unfortunately it wasn't much.

	"Happy Thanksgiving."  Joe sounded stiff.

	"Thanks dude."  I replied eagerly.

	I was so happy to hear his voice, I was like some wiggly puppy
hearing his master's voice.  If I'd had a tail I think I'd have wagged it.

	"Same to you."

	"Er, thanks."  He said still sounding unsure of himself.

	My imaginary tail stopped waiving.

	"I'm glad you called."  I said more quietly.  Aware now that the
room around me had quieted and I had an avid audience.

	"Yeah, well, my family is here and they were wondering how the
surprise went."  He went on in a dull tone.

	His family, I thought.  Of course, Joe had told his family about me
before our fight.  Naturally, they'd ask him about me now.  I imagined he'd
decided it would be better to not tell them about my confession and pretend
we were still friends.  Later, he could just say that we'd drifted apart
after I'd gotten better.

	The imaginary tail, was now firmly between my legs.

	"So how was it?"

	It took me a moment to have his question sink in.   "You knew."

	I finally dawned on me that of course Joe would know about my
parent's decision to spend Thanksgiving here.  Hell, he'd probably
orchestrated the whole thing.

	"Your dad called me last week.  Asked for the name of a motel."  He
explained.

	"You never said a thing."

	"That's why it's called a surprise."

	Some of the bounce came back in his voice.  I think he noticed too
because he pulled back.

	"So was it a good one?"  Once again his tone was flat.

	I looked at my brothers grinning at me, Mom holding on to their
collars to keep them by her side.  Dad had come back and was leaning in the
doorway balancing cups of coffee.  Sarah stood beside him, practicing
looking cool.

	"Yeah," I said softly, "it was a good one."

	My mom let go of my brothers and they shot across room, but she was
right behind them.  She lifted her hand above their heads and tapped my
arm.

	"Give me that phone."  She whispered urgently and I did as she
ordered.

	"Joe, this is Susan Ross."

	She listened for a moment a grin lighting up her face.

	"Well the same to you young man.  Listen, I just wanted to thank
you for all the trouble you've gone through for us.  It makes me feel so
much better to know that Michael has such a good friend when he's so far
from home.  I hope some day we can meet, so I can thank you properly."

	I could feel my face flush.  Like that was ever going to happen.
Joe was too nice a guy to tell my mother how he really felt about me, but I
knew there was no way he'd ever be meeting her.

	"Now I hope you don't mind," my mother continued, "but there are a
couple of football crazy boys here who'd like to say hi to you."

	"Mom!"

	Andy and Rob both moaned in mutual mortification, but when she
handed the receiver to them their enthusiasm overcame their humiliation.
As they took turns talking, Mom grabbed my hand and walked me over to the
window.

	"When we decided to surprise you, your Dad called Joe to get a
recommendation for a motel.  Joe said he'd get back to him, but when he did
he said he had a friend, a girl, who was going to be out of town for the
holidays and was willing to let us use her apartment."

	"Betsy?"  I guessed.

	"That's right."  She looked pleased.  "You know her too?"

	"She's a nurse here and..."

	Mom cut me off with a waive of her hand.

	"Anyway, she sent us the key so we're staying there tonight and
after we stop in to see you in the morning we'll head on back home."  Her
bottom lip quivered.  "I wish we could stay longer."

	I gathered her into my arms awkwardly.  It hurt my burns, but it
felt so good otherwise.

	"I wish you could too."  I kissed her on the cheek.  "But Christmas
is only a month away and I'll be home then."

	I never knew those words could sound so wonderful.  She leaned back
and poked me in the shoulder.

	"You better be."

	I smiled at her and gave her an extra squeeze, then I looked over
to where my Dad was now taking a turn on the phone.  I wanted to talk to
Joe again, but I was afraid to at the same time.  I listened to my father's
voice.

	"Just so long as you kick those Buckeye's asses. I can't stand
those bastards!"

	He looked at my little sister and covered the receiver.

	"Sarah, do you want to say hi?"

	She shook her head so hard I thought she was going to dislocate her
neck.

	"Oh my God Dad!" Her voice was horrified at even the suggestion
that she would do anything that uncool.

	I could tell though that she was dying to talk to the gorgeous
quarterback and I had to pretend to cough to cover my laugh.  My dad
shrugged and turned back to the phone.

	"There's someone else in the room who'd love to talk to you, but
she's pretending she's shy."

	Sarah groaned and ran from the room.  Dad looked at me and winked.

	"Uh huh, well I'll be sure and tell her that, if I can ever get her
out of whatever bathroom she's locked herself into."

	He listened to something on the other end of the phone and laughed.

	"You're right, torturing your children is one of the perks of
parenthood."

	He started to waive me over, then held up his hand to stop me.

	"Oh you have to go?  Sure, I understand, I'll tell him goodbye for
you.  And thanks again son."

	He hung up the phone and looked at me.

	"His family was getting ready sit down to eat.  He said to tell you
goodbye."

	I nodded.  There was a lump in my throat the size of the turkey
we'd just demolished.  I knew perfectly well that Joe was just using dinner
as an excuse not to talk to me again.

	To Hell with it, I thought.  Today had been a great day and my
parents didn't deserve to see me moping around over something I'd brought
on myself.

	Surprisingly, it wasn't that hard to put Joe out of my mind and
enjoy myself.  Dad and the boys and I stretched out on the beds and watched
TV, flipping channels to catch as many games as we could find.  Sarah and
Mom stuck it out for as long as they could, then split to some chick flick
at the Quad, in the mall.  When they came back, we all had turkey and
cranberry sandwiches and a sampling of the half dozen or so pies Mom always
made for the holidays because nobody could agree on which were their
favorites.

	Afterwards, we watched the tube some more.  This time it was Mom's
turn to choose and she picked some mushy thing by Hallmark.  The male
contingency bitched, of course, but secretly we all liked it and everybody
watched till the tear jerking end.  Everybody except Rob, who had finally
overloaded his circuits with his fourth piece of pie and had succumbed to a
sugar induced coma.

	It was time for my family to leave.  They'd already repacked the
boxes, and the leftovers were stowed in the nurse's lounge refrigerator, so
it was just a matter of boots and hats and getting Rob to wake up long
enough to shove his rubbery arms into his parka so he didn't freeze to
death.

	My dad picked the kid up, gave me a knock on the shoulder and
headed out to get the car warmed up.  Sarah and Andy waived at the door and
followed behind him.  I was back in my own uncomfortable bed and my mother
walked over and automatically started to tuck me in.  When she saw me grin,
she raised her eyebrows and smiled.

	"Sorry," she laughed, "old habits are hard to break."  She got
serious again.

	"You're still my baby you know."

	She reached out and stroked my cheek.

	"You always will be.  I'll always worry about you and love you and
want the best for you.  Nothing can ever change that."

	"I'm glad to hear it."

	I reached up and covered her hand and squeezed it.

	"Whatever makes you happy is okay by me."  She continued.

	"Thanks."  I could hardly hear my own response.

	"You're a good person Michael.  A pain in the butt sometimes, but a
good person."

	I laughed at that one and she smiled.

	"If you want," she said a little too nonchalantly, "you can invite
that friend of yours to visit over the holidays."

	My mouth dropped open.  That was as close as my Mom would ever get
to coming right out and saying I could bring my lover home.  The only
problem was, I didn't have one.  I cocked an eyebrow at her.

	"He seems like such a nice boy when I talk to him.  I'm sure he'd
fit in with the rest of the family."

	She continued oblivious to the reaction she was causing in my head.

	Jesus, she thought Joe and I were lovers!  I couldn't stand it,
suddenly the whole mess struck me as incredibly funny.  I grinned till I
thought my face would split.

	"Mom," laughter underlining my voice, "I hate to break it to you,
but Joe Lassiter is not gay."

	"He's not?"  The woman actually sounded disappointed.

	"Nope."  I shook my head sadly.  "Not even a little bit.  The
apartment you're staying in tonight, that belongs to his girlfriend."

	"I thought you said it was a nurse's apartment?"  She didn't seem
to want to believe me.

	"It is.  Betsy is a nurse here," I paused for effect, "and she's
Joe's lover."

	"Oh."  She let the information sink in.  "Well Hell, invite him
anyway.  He still sounds nice."

	She kissed me while I was still laughing and walked out the door.
My Mom, ya gotta love her.

	Fifteen minutes later my phone rang.  I groaned as I tried to drag
myself out of the depths of the sleep that had claimed me almost as soon as
my family had left.  I fumbled for the receiver.  It had to be my Mom
again.  Another one of her habits was never going anywhere without leaving
something behind.

	"What did you forget?"  I said into the mouthpiece with a fake,
long-suffering sigh.

	There was a surprised silence on the other end.  I felt the hairs
on the back of my neck prickle and started to wake up.  Only my family and
one other person had this number, something I'd forgotten when the phone
had rung the first time.

	"I forgot to apologize."  Joe finally said in a matter of fact
voice.

	"I thought you were my Mom."  I said inanely.

	"I didn't know there was a resemblance."  He joked.

	It was lame joke, but a wave of relieve rushed over me.  If he
could joke, maybe he could forgive.  Then what he'd first said suddenly
sunk into my turkey soaked brain.

	"Wait a minute."  I shook my head, trying to clear it.  "You have
nothing to be sorry for.  I'm the one who lied to you, remember?"

	"True."

	He agreed a little too readily for my piece of mind.

	"But then I acted like a total asshole."

	He waited like he expected an answer, but I couldn't think of
anything to say.

	"Feel free to disagree."  He said finally.

	"No,"

	I was feeling better and better about this conversation.

	"I think you pretty much said it all."

	"Yeah well, I talked to Josh about what happened..."  He continued
tiredly.

	"You told your brother?"  I interrupted.

	"Well of course I did."

	Joe responded as if I'd just said something stupid.  I kept
forgetting, this guy was a twin, he shared everything with his brother.

	"And he said he admired you for having the courage to tell me at
all."

	"Well, it wasn't like it was a big secret."  I was trying to be
fair.

	"That's what I told him."  Joe agreed.  "But he said that didn't
matter.  What was important was that you faced me with it even though you
were fully aware of all the consequences.  Sometimes I hate the God Damned
Jesuits, you know?"

	I grinned.  Actually, I didn't know, we may have been half Italian
but we were 100% Lutheran.  However, anything that would repair my
friendship with Joe was okay in my book.

	"Then he called me a real jerk off and told me the only behavior I
should be concerned with was mine, and since up to now, it hasn't been too
good, I should be concerned a lot."  He sighed.  "The worst part was, he
was right.  I was acting like a selfish prick."

	"It's okay."  I protested.

	"No, it's not."  Joe disagreed.  "I never even thought about how
hard it was on you to have to tell me something I was too oblivious to
figure out on my own.  Why the Hell should I've expected you to have told
me sooner?  Are you supposed to be required to walk up to everyone you meet
and say 'Glad to meet you, I'm gay.'?  Or maybe you should wear a pink
armband or a tutu or something?"

	"Now there's a thought."  I said dryly.

	"Yeah," he agreed glumly, "and I wish I'd never said it because now
I've got this picture in my head..."

	I burst out laughing.

	"Trust me, it's not pretty!"  He protested, but he was laughing
too.

	"The point is," he said, serious again, "that it doesn't really
matter that you're gay."

	"Joe..." I started to disagree.

	"Okay, okay it matters, but it doesn't have to matter to us, to our
friendship, right?"

	"But it's still going to be there," I cautioned, "it's part of who
I am."

	"Yeah, I know that and we'll deal with it."

	He thought a minute.

	"The thing is, I don't want to be one of those guys who only picks
his friends because they're good for his image or they carry the right
cache."

	I winced at that one; but I knew he was right.

	"I'm not stupid Mike and neither are you."

	He really did seem to have the ability to read my mind.

	"We both know that I'm probably going to take some flack for
hanging around with a gay guy and you'll get hassled too.  But I'm game if
you are."

	I considered what he'd just said.  He was right, we'd both take a
lot of heat for this, at least for a while.  But that didn't worry me as
much as what I hadn't confessed.  How would he feel about our being
friends, if he knew how much I loved him?

	I shook my head.  It didn't matter because, that was one thing I
was never going to tell him.

	"So are you?"  He asked.

	"Am I what?"  I pulled myself away from my thoughts.

	"Oh for Christ's sake you don't make things easy do you?"

	He snorted.

	"Are you willing to be my friend again?"

	I closed my eyes and swallowed hard.

	"Of course."  If friendship was all he had to offer, then that was
what I'd take.

Authors comments: I've had an unbelievable response to Chapter One and I
hope this one lived up to your expectations.  I know some of you will be
disappointed because there's no sex in this chapter, but cheer up, Chapter
Three might prove a little bit more interesting to you.  I'll post it next
Sunday.  Thanks again for all your encouragement.  jfinn