Date: Tue, 16 Jul 2002 23:48:56 -0700 (PDT)
From: jfinn <writnword@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Human Condition, Chapter 9

This is a work of fiction.  Any similarities between the characters
portrayed here and real people is strictly coincidental.  This is also a
story which describes homosexual acts between consenting adults.  If you do
not wish to read this, under the age of 18 or it is illegal in the area you
are in to read this, then leave now.

And to those of you who are reading further, I hope you'll enjoy the story.

jfinn





Chapter 9

Joe wasn't in the bedroom when I went to look for him after I said goodbye
to Sarah. But then, neither were the clothes I'd laid out on the bed, so I
wasn't too worried.

I found him in the kitchen scrambling some eggs; there were mushrooms
grilling in another pan and fresh sliced tomatoes on the butcher block. The
bread was already in the toaster waiting for someone to push down the
lever. I did the honors and then went to Joe and leaned over his shoulder
and sniffed appreciatively.

"Are those for me?" I asked hopefully.

He snorted. "As if you didn't already know."

Which was true. I was truly a lousy cook. And if left to my own, I'd
probably make do with cold Pop Tarts and a pot of coffee. Ever since I'd
known him, Joe had ridden my ass about my eating habits, and eventually
he'd figured out the only way to change them was to cook the meals himself.

He'd already set the table and I went over to it and poured two glasses of
grapefruit juice out of the pitcher. Then I sat and anxiously waited for
him, like a little kid whose last meal was about two weeks ago.

"Quit squirming," he said without looking around. "It's almost ready."

"But I'm starving!" I whined.

"I'd have thought the 'protein snack' you had earlier would've satisfied
your appetite," he teased back.

"Babe, if anything all it did was whet it for more." I gave him my best
leer, which just made him laugh.

He split the eggs onto two plates and added chopped mushrooms and tomatoes
to each, then, with a flourish, he popped up the toast and expertly spread
marmalade on each slice. He walked over to the table with a plate in each
hand and gave one to me. He put the other one in front of his chair, but
before he could sit I drew him to me and rested my face on his belly.

"You spoil me," I murmured as I took in his scent, which gave off an aroma
better to me than any food known to man.

Joe stroked my hair. "I think you got that backwards, sweetie." He leaned
down and kissed the top of my head, then grinned. "In fact," he said, "I
think you're the best little wife a guy could ever hope for."

He looked down at my legs that stuck out from my shorts. They were pretty
well muscled, because he insisted on dragging me out to the track to run
three times a week, but I was in desperate need of some sun. The dark hair
covering them was in stark contrast to the white skin.

"But Darlin'," he laughed, "if you're thinking about that sex change
operation again, I would think again - 'cause you just don't have the legs
for it."

One of those ugly legs of mine kicked him in the butt as he turned to his
chair across from me, but it was just a reflex. This was an old joke of
ours - the kind all couples share when they've spent as much time together
as we have.

Joe had always kidded me about being his wife. It didn't bother me, and
I've been known to refer to him as 'the old ball and chain' a few times
myself. The truth was, like most gay couples, we didn't really have the
kind of relationship where one of us took on the wife role and one the
husband. Through the years, we'd just developed a pattern where we chose to
do what felt best for us, and didn't worry about that kind of crap. We
rarely bothered with titles, either, although the times when we had to
describe our relationship to someone, we both seemed to use the word
'partner.'

But in the truest sense, Joe was my husband and my wife, and I was
his. Mind you, we may not have been able to get a piece of paper from the
state of Illinois that agreed with that assessment, but it didn't make it
any less true. We were a family to each other.

It had taken us a while to see that though. Joe had always planned on
something much different for himself, where I'd never planned on anything
at all. Sometimes I think it was a miracle we ever got to where we are
now. And Joe? Well Joe was even more confused than I was...



June 9, 1989

It was a few days after my folks and Sarah left and I'd just walked into my
apartment after slaving at the law firm all day. But I'm exaggerating here
a bit. I worked hard, sure, but I also loved it, so it wasn't exactly a
sacrifice. That day though, I was beat. My energy levels still weren't up
to what they had been, and so I was really looking forward to just vegging
out on the couch and maybe calling out for pizza if I couldn't scare
anything up out of the fridge.

I'd forgotten I was supposed to go over to Kevin and Saul's for dinner that
night. If Saul hadn't called and left a message on my machine, I'd have
probably never made it. As it was, I just had time for a quick shower
before I was supposed to be there.

I made it - just barely. I knocked on the door of the two-story townhouse
they shared and waited. There were voices coming from the apartment and I
couldn't help hearing what they were saying.

"Oh Baby! Yeah! Stick that big rod in me! Yeah! Do it! Do it! Do it!"

I gulped. Maybe it would have been better if I had gotten Saul's message
too late.

Before I could sneak away, the door opened and Kevin stood in front of me -
fully clothed, thank God. "Hey, you made it," he said, grinning from ear to
ear.

The noise from inside the apartment was louder, now that the door was
opened. "Right there! Oh yeah! Harder, do me harder!"

I felt my face burn with embarrassment.

Kevin frowned and turned towards the living room. "Jesus, Saul," he
snapped. "Can you please turn that shit down!" He waited until the sound
decreased until only an occasional moan was heard.

"Come on in," he stepped back to allow me to pass. "Sorry about that. Saul
went shopping today."

He didn't have to say any more. Saul was famous for his huge collection of
porno tapes. He also had huge collections of 1950's monster flicks and the
world's most complete set of Disco records I'd ever seen; but it was the
porno that made his reputation.

He had movies from the bootlegs of old Hollywood right up to the new
made-for-video numbers. To Saul's constant disappointment, Kevin had never
been very impressed with his repertoire. He always argued he'd rather
actually have sex than just watch it, and he'd bitch that the space the
tapes took up could certainly be put to better use. Of course, most of his
bitching was just a way to torment Saul. Kevin had once admitted to me over
one too many shots of tequila that some of the tricks Saul had picked up
from his little hobby were well worth the price of admission.

The closet door was open now as we headed into the living room. Saul was
sitting cross-legged on the floor and sorting a pile of tapes that lay next
to him. It had been a scorcher of a day, and he was wearing shorts and a
baggy tee. He had a great body and normally Kevin would've been making some
comment about how lucky he was to have such a cute boyfriend, but he just
sighed.

"Christ, what have you done now?"

Saul swiveled his head and smiled, "Hey Mikey, how goes it?" He jumped up
and gave me a kiss. "And you," he poked Kevin in the chest, "quit bein'
such a bitch! We have company."

"My point exactly," Kevin complained, waving his hands helplessly at the
huge pile of tapes on the floor. "Look at this mess!"

"Oh, relax! I'll clean it up, Hon'." Saul stood on tiptoe and gave Kevin a
kiss on the nose. "I had to do it, there wasn't anymore room on the L shelf
for my new Jack Lofton." He closed his eyes and sighed. "God is that guy
hung!"

"And this one," he said as he pulled out a tape labeled LA Tool and
Die. "This one's unbelievably hot - it's a classic, too, and hard to
find. It's part of Joe Gage's Working Man Trilogy, the third one
actually. Not as famous as El Paso Wrecking Corp, or a groundbreaker like
some of Matt Sterling's classics, but a great flick none the less."

I just stared at him open-mouthed. "I think you're scaring me."

He laughed and handed me the tape. "You'll see. We'll pop this baby in
after dinner."

I smiled and shrugged noncommittally. I wasn't really wild about the
idea. We'd had movie nights before, the three of us, and it had always
ended up with one or all having to go to the bathroom for the Kleenex. But
that didn't hold any appeal for me tonight. I was still having some issues
about sex, and even something as innocuous as watching Saul stick his hand
down his pants was a little nerve-wracking to contemplate.

"Or maybe not," Kevin winked at me. "Let's see if we can at least pretend
that we're grownups here. And not just a bunch a horn-ball gay guys with
sex on the brain. In fact, I thought it might be nice if maybe after dinner
we went down to the basement and played some pool."

That sounded like a plan to me. Saul had bought Kevin an old pool table for
his last birthday, and although the table was pretty beat-up, it still
worked, though they had to keep a book under one leg to keep the thing
level. They'd been breaking it in a lot these last few months.

"Oh wait," Saul said, as he reached down to rummage in his pile of tapes. I
couldn't help but notice how his tight shorts rode up on his ass as he bent
over. Jesus, I thought to myself, as I dragged my eyes from his butt. Get a
grip, Mike!

Saul found the tape he was looking for and stood and triumphantly waved it
in the air. "If you wanna see how to really play pool, you should see
this."

"We don't want to see pool, baby - we want to play it!" Kevin chortled,
then shook his head. "Jesus, what did I ever do to deserve a voyeur for a
lover?"

"Nothing," Saul replied, as he put the tape in the player and turned to him
and gave him a bear hug. "You just got lucky is all."

Kevin grinned and wrapped his arms around him. "I guess I did at that."

I watched them play tonsil hockey for a minute before clearing my
throat. "Uh, guys," I said. "You want me to take a walk for 20 minutes or
so?"

Kevin pulled his lips from Saul's and chuckled. "Trust me, it wouldn't be
for only 20 minutes if we did - but we don't. And, besides, dinner's almost
ready. I better go check on it." He slapped Saul on his ass and walked out
of the room.

Saul's eyes followed him until he was out of sight, then he turned back to
me. "God," he sighed. "It's good to be back home. I really missed that tall
bastard, you know?"

I smiled and tried to ignore the pang I felt when he said that - because of
course I knew exactly what he meant, only the tall bastard that I missed
wasn't home yet, and I was beginning to wonder if he ever would be. Jesus,
I thought. I wish I knew what was going on in that pretty head of Joe's.

The movie that Saul had popped into the player started, and the title
popped on the screen: "Bigger Than Life." I really, really was not in the
mood. He seemed to sense this and said. "Lemme fast-forward here to the
pool table scene. Really, you gotta see this - it's a hoot!"

He started to share some gossip he'd heard about a mutual friend. I was
listening, but out of the corner of my eye I kept catching glimpses of
round hard butts and lots of sweaty skin. It was... distracting. I'd force
myself to concentrate on Saul, but every few minutes I'd realize that I was
back to the fast-forward motions of beautiful bodies engaged in sex. And if
I could tell they were beautiful even at this speed, then they had to be
hot.

Fortunately, Saul didn't seem to notice that I was basically ignoring
him. He chattered on about one thing and another until Kevin stuck his head
in the living room and announced that dinner was ready.

I took a glance around. They had a really nice apartment - cozy,
comfortable, and - thanks to Saul's doting Mama - decorated like a real
home. When they'd first moved in together, she'd insisted on "doing" the
whole place. Kevin had wanted to refuse, but even he couldn't stand up to
that woman's wheedling, and he finally capitulated. I had to hand it to
her, though - she had excellent taste. The rooms were masculine, yet not
sterile. I couldn't help but wonder what she thought of the closet, though.

One of the best things about the place was it had a real dining room where
you could stretch out and eat like a grown-up instead of balancing plates
in your lap and sitting on the floor, like we had to do at most of my
friends' tiny apartments. Even my luxury of a real kitchen table and chairs
at my place couldn't compete with the bamboo and glass wonders that sat in
Kevin and Saul's eating area.

There was something else in the dining room, too. I immediately rolled my
eyes and groaned, and Saul laughed when he saw me.

"Hey, we knew you wouldn't bring a date, so we decided to provide one free
of charge," he said as he clapped me on the back. "Cause that's just the
kind of caring, considerate friends we are."

My "date," as he'd put it, was sitting across the table from what was
obviously my chair. It was a life-size wooden mannequin, one of those
puppet things with joints and no face, but definitely male. Kevin had
picked him up in some trash bin in back of a clothing store one night after
the bars had closed. He was promptly christened "Bruce," and he'd been a
fixture at parties at their house ever since, although usually he lived at
the runaway teen shelter that Kevin ran.

The kids loved Bruce and they were always posing him and making up stories
about his latest sexcapades. Kevin said it was a good outlet and he pretty
much let them do whatever they pleased with the dummy. So it wasn't
uncommon to walk into the weight room and see Bruce on the treadmill, or to
see a couple boys watching TV with Bruce tucked in between them, holding
the bowl of popcorn. They even had a wardrobe for him, and he was always
dressed for the right occasion. You'd have thought that these kids might
have been rough or obscene with the wooden boy, but they were surprisingly
protective of their mascot, and although they had no problem with the time
that one of the kids posed him suggestively over the arm of the couch and
pulled his pants down to show his skinny wooden butt, they would've kicked
the hell out of anybody who'd tried to actually destroy or deface him.

Tonight, Bruce was in his at-home attire of skimpy running shorts and a
practice football jersey, which had been cut off at the nipples that
someone had so thoughtfully drawn on his torso. I noticed he had acquired a
new wig, long and straight and blond, which made him look almost like
Pinocchio's wet dream surfer boy. Through the glass table I could see he
was complete with running shoes and...

I looked over at where Kevin had just joined Saul. "What the fuck?" I
sputtered.

They both started to laugh. "Isn't it great!" Kevin said as he pointed.

What he was pointing at was another addition since I'd last been
there. Bruce had always been sadly lacking in the anatomical department,
but now it looked like he might finally be getting his wish to be a real
boy. There was a decided bulge at his groin and something suspicious was
poking at the hem of the shorts.

"One of the kids at the shelter likes woodworking," Kevin continued. "He
learned a lot from his dad before he got kicked out for getting caught with
the neighbor kid." He shrugged; the story was too common for him to make
any issue of it. "Anyway, we had all those tools donated last year and this
kid volunteered to set up the workshop. He made us this for Bruce."

He walked around to the mannequin and pulled him out of the chair and
unceremoniously yanked down his shorts. There in all its glory was a
perfectly-proportioned cock and balls, exquisitely carved and detailed
enough to tell me that the kid who'd made this was really enthusiastic
about his subject matter.

"It even has a hinge," Kevin said, as he grabbed the wooden shaft and
cranked it up until a click was heard.

"Jesus," I said, rolling my eyes. "Wouldn't some new bookshelves have been
more practical?"

"Aw, I think it was sweet," Kevin replied, as he pushed a spring under the
balls and the dick collapsed back down. Then he pulled up Bruce's shorts
and sat him down in his original seat, and clapped his hands. "Let's eat!"

Dinner was great. Kevin really liked to cook, and I really liked to eat, so
we always got along great over a dinner table. We didn't talk about much of
anything until near the end of the meal when Saul suddenly slapped himself
and said, "Shit, I forgot about stopping the tape! Now I'll have to start
all over to find that scene."

Kevin snorted and looked at me. "You'll have to forgive him. He's got this
incredible idea in his head that all sex movies aren't alike."

"They aren't!" Saul protested.

"Oh, puh-leeze!" Kevin snapped, shaking his head.

"For instance, one of the new ones is a spy flick," Saul said to me,
ignoring Kevin.

Kevin apparently thought two could play at that game and also addressed his
next comment to me. "Which translates to, the main character has a pair of
binoculars to watch all his neighbors strip."

"Ha-fucking-ha," Saul griped good-naturedly.

I started to laugh, "Geez, you two sound just like my parents! True, they
don't generally bicker about porno, but the theory is the same."

A timer went off in the kitchen and Kevin jumped to his feet. "I made
chocolate brownies for desert, and there's Haagen-Dazs French vanilla to go
with it."

"Yum," I said, my mouth watering. Chocolate brownies were my favorite, as
Kevin well knew.

He left the room leaving Saul and me alone together. Saul looked at me and
frowned. "You know, he's wrong."

"About what?" I asked, perplexed.

"About the porno! Some of it really is pretty good."

I laughed. "Get a grip, Saul. He's only teasing you to get your goat. And
besides, you gotta admit he has a point. I haven't exactly seen any
triple-X rated films up for any Academy Awards lately."

"Oh, hell no! I don't mean they have good plots. I just mean they aren't
all the same."

"I agree," I teased. "Some fuck standing up, and some laying down"

"Aw, shit! You're as bad as Kevin," he said, exasperatedly. "Here, I'll
prove it to you." He jogged out through the doorway.

"Saul..." I started, but he'd already gone into the living room. I sighed
and followed meekly.

I knew Saul well, and this sudden obsession about some stupid little thing
wasn't exactly a new twist to his personality. Every so often, he'd get one
of these ideas up his ass, and there was no diverting him until he'd proved
his theory or gotten so far down the bullshit boulevard that even he
couldn't figure out what his original point had been. With Saul, it was
just easier to stop fighting him and let him have his way until he got it
out of his system.

He'd already popped the tape in the player and was rewinding it back to the
beginning. After a few moments, he hit a button and an image popped up on
the screen. He was right: it actually had a plot... the stupidest goddamn
plot I'd ever heard. There was this spy who had to go out and save the
world from the evil mastermind who was trying to destroy the U.S. by
kidnapping all the richest men in the country and turning them into
mindless boy toys who looked 18 and fucked like bunnies. But he was right;
it had a plot, of sorts.

Even worse than the plot, of course, was the acting. You must know what I'm
talking about: that flat, toneless voice every porn star on earth seems to
have. I was just about to comment about that when Kevin stuck his head in
the door and told us to get our asses back to the table.

No one has to tell me twice to go eat chocolate, so I was back there in a
flash and Saul followed a minute later. We turned our attention to eating,
and conversation wasn't on the agenda for the next couple of minutes. The
only noise was the drone of the bad actors on the movie that Saul had
forgotten to stop. With our silence, it seemed even louder then it had when
we'd been in the living room.

"So big boy," some robot-like voice suddenly said in the other room. "Now I
know why they say you're called agent double-012."

"And wait till it gets hard," another flat voice droned.

"Oh my God," Kevin groaned, and then he looked at me and started to grin.

I couldn't help it. I laughed - first a chuckle, and then a full-fledged
belly laugh. After a minute, Kevin joined me, and we both howled until
tears rolled down our faces. Saul glared at us and sighed theatrically, but
I could tell he was just jerking our chains.

"Very fucking funny," he grumbled. "Try and introduce a little culture into
your lives, and this is the thanks I get!"

Of course, this just made us laugh harder. He scooped up his last spoonful
of ice cream and then stood up and stormed off to the living room. But he
winked at me as he left.

Kevin took a deep sigh and wiped his eyes. "Come on - I got an idea."

"What are you up to now?" I said suspiciously.

"You'll see. Just follow my lead."

It had turned into one of those goofy nights when things you'd never dream
of doing suddenly made perfect sense. I shrugged and figured that it
whatever Kevin had planned, it was probably at least going to be good for
more laughs. We tiptoed to the door of the living room and stood there
quietly, trying not to get Saul's attention. Kevin put his arms around me
and I looked at him curiously. "Trust me," he mouthed.

"Hey, stud!" Kevin suddenly boomed in his own version of a porn
voice. "Look at that twink on the floor's bubble butt." He nudged me and
nodded to go for it.

I started to laugh, but he poked me and I managed to get back my poker
face. "Wow, you are right, Lance." I said in my best porno-actor
voice. Kevin stared at me, but I ignored him as I tried to get into
character. "He sure is one hot dude. Man, I'd really like to fuck that
tight ass."

"Then go for it, Dick!"

I almost lost it again and Kevin tightened his hand on my back as a
warning.

"Plow him with that big blade of yours," continued Kevin.

"Okay, Lance," I said cheerfully. "And while I do, you can suck that juicy
cock I see bulging in those tight shorts."

Now the moment we'd started speaking, Saul had whipped around to see us. At
first he looked shocked, then horrified, but suddenly he grinned a quick
evil grin and started on a role of his own.

"Hey hunks, my name is Will, as in 'Will he or won't he.' And the answer is
'yes,' if that big hard bulge in those jeans is all for me."

Okay, I lost it then. Kevin was practically holding me up; as I laughed so
hard I almost stopped breathing. He and Saul were made of tougher stuff
though. They grinned, but they immediately got back into character. Kevin
practically dragged my laughing ass over to the couch where Saul now
waited, and then he pushed me towards him.

I landed in a sitting position and Saul sank to his knees and pushed my
legs wide open. I immediately stopped laughing and stared at him, totally
confused. Kevin leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Tell him to take it
out."

"What? No," I protested. I immediately tried to close my legs, but Saul was
firmly planted between them.

He was grinning and licking his lips lewdly, but when he saw the look on my
face, his smile faded. He looked behind me to where Kevin was standing,
then back at me. When he spoke again it was in his normal voice.

"It's okay, Mikie. Let me do this for you. Please." He leaned up and gave
me a quick gentle kiss on the mouth. And then he kissed me again, this time
with a little passion and my mouth opened before my brain was even aware it
had given its permission.

Even while I responded, part of me was screaming that this was a bad idea.
I know the popular thinking is that gay men screw everything they can get
their hands on, including their friends.  But that isn't true, at least not
in my experience.  Yes, I had slept with Kevin one night about a year and a
half ago, but that had been an exception, not the rule.  And I'd felt weird
enough about it at the time that it had just made me believe even more that
mixing sex and friendship was not the way to go.

On the other hand, that didn't mean the rest of me wasn't enjoying the hell
of this.  I was 21 for chrissake, sex was something I'd been used to, a
lot.  My body was ready for it again, even if my mind wasn't quite sure.
And both Saul and Kevin were really attractive guys; even being friends
with them hadn't blinded me to that.  If I didn't know them already and saw
them walking down the street I'd give them a second glance-and a third.

There was more though, they were right to think I'd been dreading getting
back on the horse so to speak.  It's one thing to think in theory that
you're ready to get on with your life, quite another to actually do
something about it.  The thought of having the opportunity to test myself
with guys who were both experienced and knew the kind of problems I'd been
having was very seductive.  So if two of my best friends were in the mood
to offer, I didn't see how it wouldn't seem downright churlish to say no.

At any rate the decision seemed to have already been made by my body.
Kevin's strong hands massaged my shoulders, and it felt so good that I knew
I wasn't going anywhere, at least for the moment. Saul continued to just
kiss me, always gentle, even when he finally introduced his tongue into my
mouth. After the first few moments, I relaxed and began to kiss him
back. Kevin was kneeling behind the couch now, so that his head was level
to ours. His hands still stroked my shoulders lightly, and I felt a faint
shiver of desire run down my spine.

Saul seemed to sense the change. He moved from my mouth to my neck, nipping
softly on the sensitive skin. His hands, which had been resting on my
chest, moved down to my waist and started to gather up the material of my
tee, bunching it in his hands and pulling it up over my nipples. I tensed
and Kevin leaned forward until his mouth was at my ear.

"Shh," he whispered. "Just relax and let this happen."

"I don't understand. Why are you guys doing this?" I could barely hear my
words over the pounding of my heart.

"Cause we're your friends and we love you," he said simply.

"But..."

Saul touched his fingers to my lips to silence me, then looked past me at
Kevin and tilted his head to meet my eyes.

"You need this, Mikie," he said. "It's been too long. We know you've been
scared of this, of your first time since..." He trailed off, but spoke
again in a moment. "But we're your friends, and you don't need to be afraid
with us."

My heart hammered in my chest, but I wasn't sure if it was from fear or
desire. I shook my head. "I don't know if I..."

"Shh," Kevin answered as Saul was back to kissing my neck. "Whatever
happens... happens. Don't worry about it. Let it go."

He gently pushed my shoulders forward and I sat up as Saul pulled my shirt
over my head and tossed it casually on the floor behind him. He sat back on
his heels and gently ran his hands up and down my chest, caressing my
pecs. I shivered, a product of the cool air conditioning, my trepidation,
and maybe a little passion.

Kevin wasn't taking any chances on me having second thoughts. He placed one
hand to my jaw and gently pulled my head around, then he moved until we
were face to face and kissed me. I remembered I'd kissed him like this
before. It was a good memory of better, more carefree times and I relaxed
as I thought about it. Again, Saul sensed my loosening up and he took
advantage of it by placing his mouth over a nipple and licked it as he
reached down and unbuttoned my jeans.

I sucked in my breath and arched my back. God, it did feel great. And yet
part of me was still terrified. Saul spread my pants open and laid his face
on my crotch. My limp shaft pulsed once and then lay there. He didn't seem
to notice. He rubbed and sniffed and burrowed his nose into my groin. Kevin
broke off kissing me and looked down at his lover's head in his lap.

"You know," he whispered to me. "I think if Saul ever changes his mind
about being an anthropologist, he could go to France and get a job sniffing
out truffles."

Saul raised his head and grinned at me. "Of course, that could only work if
truffles smell like cock." He bent down and got back to work.

I laughed a little and relaxed some more. Kevin kissed me once again and
soon Saul had managed to completely strip me, and somehow got out of his
own clothes when I wasn't looking. When he was through, Kev let me up for
air and a good look.

I'd never seen Saul naked, though sometimes, like today, he wore next to
nothing. Since he'd undressed me, Saul hadn't touched my dick, but had gone
back to work on my naval with a tongue that I soon realized was very
talented. I stared down at the top of his head and cast my eyes lower to
see what lay below it.

It was funny, but Saul looked a lot younger nude. He was well built, with
broad shoulders; smooth and slightly thin without much discernable
musculature, so that the delicate, sharp bones of his shoulder blades
jutted out from his back. His spine though, was nestled in a valley created
by muscles and swooped down to narrow hips and a great boyish ass that was
round and smooth and flexed invitingly whenever he moved. He was
dark-skinned and he tanned easily, even this early in the summer. The
contrast of his deeply tanned back with the white skin of his ass was
startling. As I was staring, he clenched his butt muscles and my cock gave
another jolt of interest.

"Oh, goody," he murmured. "I think somebody is waking up."

He slid down further and wedged a hand between my legs and gently pulled on
my balls. I slumped a bit to help him, and Kevin walked around to the front
of the couch to watch and, I'm sure, step in where he was needed. I knew
that they'd engaged in threesomes before, so I wasn't surprised that they
had the moves down so smoothly. I watched as Kevin did an impromptu
striptease for my enjoyment and again remembered another night when he
treated me to the same show.

So this time, there were no surprise when he unveiled himself, although it
still amazed me that Kevin, who looked almost skinny in clothes, was
actually quite developed, with long sinewy muscles that rippled over the
tops of his shoulders, abs and his long, straight thighs. He had no hair on
his chest or anywhere else for that matter, except for the thick reddish
blonde wedge that framed his cock.

That appendage was more than awake. I swallowed when I saw it and remember
how big it had felt between my lips in our first meeting. Another surprise,
because it hadn't looked very impressive the first time I'd seen it nestled
in its home on that long, slim body. It's amazing how deceiving looks can
be. At another time, I might have invited him back into my mouth. I wasn't
quite able to take that initiative at this point, so I satisfied myself
with a good visual examination instead. It was thick and hard and already
gleamed with sticky precum. I licked my lips, but when Kevin, who was
watching my every move, moved forward as if to offer, I dropped my eyes. He
changed his course and came to my side and knelt beside me and stroked my
hair.

"It's okay, sweet pea," he whispered. "We love you, Mike. We just want to
make you happy."

Saul raised his head from the inside of my thighs where he'd been torturing
the sensitive skin with his tongue, and smacked his lips. "He's right,
Mike. We love you like a brother," he grinned. "Well... maybe if we were
brothers in Arkansas, that is." Before I had time to retort, he'd lowered
his head again and this time he cut straight to the chase and took my
entire, half-hard cock into his hot little mouth. I moaned at the feel of a
sensation I'd barely let myself think about in such a long time.

Kevin, not to be upstaged, went into serious attack mode on my pits; a
place I'd once admitted to him was one of my big erogenous zones. He raised
my arms above my head and then lowered his head... sucking, tonguing, and
licking sloppily until they were damp with spit and red from the scrape of
his beard against my skin.

My head rolled back and I groaned again. I was still a little scared, but I
was beginning to hope my fear wasn't going to last long in the game my two
friends had set me up for. My cock was filling fast now as Saul swirled his
tongue around the head and traced the contours of it. When he plunged it
back into his mouth my hips involuntarily helped him and my arms, still
raised above my head to give Kevin access, twitched with the need to join
the game. When I was fully hard, Saul came off me with a sucking slurp and
hooked an arm under each of my legs and, with Kevin's help, he slowly
pulled me down onto the thick pile of the carpet.

I was on my back, lying flat out. Saul straddled me and I looked over his
front with the same careful scrutiny I'd applied to his back. I decided if
he looked like a young boy from the rear, he was certainly all man from the
front. Although his back and ass were almost hairless, on this side, Saul
looked like a little bear cub. Thick soft hairs swirled around in curly
patterns on his groin and only narrowed at his waist where the trail
widened again to coat his chest, leaving just his nipples bare of fur.

My eyes drifted back down and I really looked at his hard cock for the
first time. It was straight and brown, almost as dark as the hair that
surrounded it. For the first time I reached out to him, running my fingers
deeply through his pelt, pulling gently at it, watching as it curled around
my fingers. I luxuriated in it for a moment. I'd never been into bears, but
with Saul, I could see why some guys were addicted to them. My fingers let
go of the silky strands reluctantly and I trailed lightly downward until my
hands found the oh-so-stiff pole that rested in a thatch of the wondrous
down.

He sighed and for a moment closed his eyes. When he opened them he looked
straight into mine. "I want you, Mike," he growled, " I want you to fuck
me. Do you want that too?"

God did I ever. But with a rush, the fear returned. My heart pounded and I
felt the back of my neck and forehead dampen with panic sweat. Suddenly, I
found I couldn't breathe, and I fought to expand my chest. I fought the
emotion; tried to control it as I closed my eyes and gritted my
teeth. Dimly I heard Kevin softly speaking, but it took a while for me to
be able to concentrate enough to hear his words.

"Mike, it's okay. Relax, sweetheart - we're all friends here. You don't
have to do anything you don't want to. It's okay; you gotta believe
me. You're okay."

My breathing, so shallow and erratic, slowly deepened as I let the sound of
his voice fill my head. I realized my eyes were clenched shut. I allowed my
face to relax and opened my lids. Kevin's worried face hovered directly
above my own. He tried to smile when he saw me looking, but he couldn't
quite manage it. He reached up to brush the sweat off my brow and I noticed
he was shaking almost as bad as I was.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Good. For a minute there, I'd thought we'd lost you."

I looked at the concern on his face, then down at Saul, now at my other
side, kneeling at my shoulder. He was chewing nervously on his lower lip
and looked horror-stricken.

"Sorry, Mike," he whispered, his voice full of tears. "I didn't mean to
push. Like we said before, you don't have to do anything you don't want
to."

I looked at those two worried faces and I realized something: I had no
reason to be frightened here. These were my friends - two of the best
people I'd ever known. And they were offering the greatest gift they had to
give - themselves. I'd be a fool to reject that. And I had never thought of
myself as a fool.

"You know," I said, as I sat up and smiled. "If you two clowns think you
can get me all hot and bothered, and then just back off, you have a real
big surprise coming up."

Kevin searched my face and smiled when he saw something there that he
liked.

"Oh, a real big surprise, eh?" He turned to the still-concerned Saul and
winked. "Don't worry, baby. It's actually not all that big, as I'm sure
you've already noticed."

Saul looked shocked for a second, then caught on and started to giggle. It
was contagious. We ended up laughing hysterically in a pile of arms and
legs. But when that was over, we started the dance again. We'd all gone
soft when I'd had my little panic attack, but that didn't take too long to
rectify. And this time I wasn't a watcher. I joined in with an enthusiasm I
had worried I was no longer capable of.

Oh, there were a few times when I'd have to pull back, take a little
breather to fight back random bursts of panic. And I'd be lying if I told
you the momentary helplessness that three-way sex invariably generates
didn't make me nervous as hell. But Kevin and Saul always seemed to sense
these times a second before they became overwhelming, and they'd wait until
they saw the tenseness in my face disappear until they'd start again.

It wasn't long at all before I felt the familiar feel of tense muscle, the
involuntary spasm that accompanied it, that seemed to happen whenever I'd
slipped my a cock into a warm, tight ass. Saul moaned, but in lust, not
pain, as he pushed down. Kevin reached out and held him tight around the
shoulders murmuring words of love and encouragement.

I realized with a shock that it had almost been a year since I'd been on
the giving and not the receiving end of a good fuck, and I was suddenly
eager to make up for lost time. I waited impatiently for Saul to adjust,
and as soon as his eyes told me he had, I pushed with my hips to
begin. Kevin watched us with greedy eyes until he couldn't stand being left
out any longer, and he bent down to take his lover's pole in his mouth.

Once we started, we raced to see who would finish first. We couldn't wait
any longer. It was almost a tie, too: Kevin was swallowing the last of
Saul's load just as I was losing the first of mine. As I shot off into the
tip of a condom, I realized that what had started out as an unbelievable
gesture of generosity between friends, had become a special night we'd all
keep with us forever. It was a victory for all of us.

While I lay there panting, savoring the moment, Saul released me, then
knelt in front of Kevin and took him into his mouth. I watched as the two
lovers repeated their own well-known moves. As generous as they'd been with
me, it was obvious that now was there time for each other. When Kevin
finally let go with his own essence, it may have been my hand he gripped,
but it was Saul's face he sought out with his eyes.

There was a moment of silence and then both of them turned to me. They
smiled, almost in unison, but I didn't smile back and slowly both of them
grew solemn too. When they looked good and unhappy I made my move.

"There's something I need to say to you two," I told them seriously.

I watched as they both geared themselves up for the unpleasantness they
believed was about to begin. They'd tricked me, and even if the reasons had
been pure, they knew I wasn't the type of person that would take being
deceived lightly.

Kevin sat up and leaned forward, then put his hand affectionately on my
shoulder. "Listen, Mikey, I'm sorry if you're mad about us tricking you
into having sex," He spoke tiredly, a mix of exhaustion from the sex and
depression at my reaction. "I want you to know that it was all my
idea. Saul didn't want to do it. I made him."

"Don't make excuses for me," Saul protested. "I'm a fucking adult and you
couldn't have made me do anything if I didn't want to."

"Baby, you know how you were against this..."

"Would you two please shut the fuck up, so I can finish here?" I
barked. "Jesus Christ, you two really are starting to sound like an old
whiny couple."

They both grew silent. Saul who'd been doing a great imitation of a fuck
bunny for the last hour, actually started to blush from embarrassment.

I cleared my throat. "I tried to tell you this earlier, but one of you was
too busy trying to swallow my cock and the other kept sticking his tongue
down my throat every time I opened my mouth, so I couldn't. But I to be
sure you know this, so I'm telling you now." I looked at both of their
serious faces and smiled. "I love you guys, too."

"Asshole!" Kevin growled, and threw a couch pillow at me.

"Jesus Christ, Mikey, you scared the living shit out of us!" Saul whined,
and then he catapulted his body onto my chest and snuggled in.

I wrapped my arms around him, then sighed and only opened my right to
invite Kevin to join us. We lay still together for a long time until Saul
started to shiver and Kev stretched out a long arm to grab the afghan over
the back of the couch. He sat up to spread it over us and as he did he
looked into my eyes.

"You know," he said, "there is something else we haven't tried yet."

He stroked my cheek with fingers that still smelled faintly of Saul's
cum. My cock stirred and I considered what I knew he was saying: he was
asking me if I wanted to bottom. He knew my history with Cam, and I'd been
honest with him about how much I'd enjoyed that. I suppose he thought that
would mean I'd be eager to take that role again.

But I wasn't. The physical injuries had healed; I knew that for a fact. A
couple of fingers up my ass had answered all the questions I'd had about
that some weeks before. So it wasn't fear of pain that made me
hesitate. Some was a holdover from Elliot, but that wasn't all of it
either.

When I'd given myself to Cam, I really did it more because I thought it was
time, not because I thought it was right. I regretted that now, and I
didn't want to repeat that mistake. I loved Saul and Kevin, but I wasn't in
love with them. The next time I felt somebody's cock in my ass, I wanted it
to be with someone I loved as a partner, a lover. I wanted that someone to
be Joe. It might never happen and I'd have to reconsider, but at this point
I was willing to wait and see if the possibility could ever turn into a
reality.

Kevin read the answer in my eyes and stilled his hand on my cheek. "You
sure?"

I nodded. "But I do appreciate the offer."

"Hey," he winked and nodded towards Saul who'd fallen asleep with his head
resting on my shoulder. "We're a full service body shop here. Have to keep
the customer satisfied."

I stretched out and moaned in contentment. "I have no complaints."

Kevin looked at me. "I just want to make sure you know the offer is always
open."

I grinned and wagged my finger. "And some day I may hold you to it. But not
right now, okay?"

"What are you two whispering about?" Saul's sleepy voice drifted up from my
chest.

"About what a hot ass you have, and how we both want to fuck it until you
can't walk tomorrow," Kevin teased.

"Great, great," Saul yawned, "just don't forget the lube, and try and keep
the moaning down so you don't wake me."

Kevin and I both laughed softly as Saul closed his eyes again. Kevin lay
back down beside me and soon all three of us were sleeping, curled up
together like puppies, or friends who trusted each other absolutely.

Sometime before midnight, Saul woke us and led us into the bedroom where we
crawled under the covers of their king-sized bed and held each other. The
other two fell back to sleep immediately, but I lay there looking at the
moon that shone through the window and washed everything out into shades of
gray and silver.

I was thinking of another man who slept under that moon. He would be alone
and his pale skin would shine like marble under the cold light. I sent him
a private message in that moonlight. I imagined the words traveling up into
the sky and down again to glide through his open window and sink into his
sleeping form, where they would work their way into his dreams and he would
hear the words I meant so much.

"I love you, Joe. Come home to me."

I closed my eyes and slept.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day I got home and started to think about what my next move should
be. I hadn't forgotten my promise to Sarah, or to myself for that
matter. But I was definitely going to try and make Joe aware of just
exactly what my feelings for him were.

I just didn't have a fucking clue how to go about it.

I thought about a phone call, but that seemed too iffy to me. What if I
messed it up and made things worse? Confronting him face to face would've
been ideal, but even if I'd had the money to fly to Italy, I had no
passport, and the whole situation could end up looking like I was stalking
him or something. He'd probably take one look at me and run in the opposite
direction.

That left me no choice but to write - something I hated because I'd always
sucked at it in school. But at least writing would give me the chance to
think about what I wanted to say, and maybe that way I could at least hope
I got it right. I sat down and started:


June 10, 1989


Dear Joe,

	I think this letter is way overdue. I know you call Beau and get
updates on what's happening around here, so I'm not going to get into that
now. It's enough to say I've been doing a lot of thinking and examining of
who I am and how I really feel about the people that I love. That includes
you, man; I think you know that.

	The thing is, when you're in therapy, even when it's for something
specific like mine was, you get to a point where you start to examine all
aspects of your life, not just the ones that landed you on the couch in the
first place. And that includes how I feel about you.

	I've thought about it a lot. I've run the last 4 years over and
over in my head - every conversation, every look, everything I could
remember about the time we've spent together. It has been quite a journey,
hasn't it? From the moment you ran into that Chem. Lab, my life has never
been the same.

	Love. It's a word we all use a lot. We love so many things: we love
our car and pizza and the new cassette we just bought. There are a lot of
ways we love. There are those special kinds we have for our families, our
friends, and all the people who are there for us. You belong in that group
for me, and no matter what else happens, your friendship will always be one
of the things I feel luckiest about having known.

	But that isn't all of it Joe. Not even close. Because, I don't just
love you as a friend. God knows I've tried to pretend that's all it is,
even to myself and especially to you. But I don't want to pretend
anymore. And what I really want... what I dream about and pray for in the
dark, is you as a lover. Because, the truth is, I not only love you, Joe,
I'm in love with you. And I'll say that to you forever and for the rest of
my life, if you'll let me.

	Only - and I'm not sure how I'm going to tell you this without
screwing it up - before I can even think about that, I need to be honest
with you about a few things. And that's really important because the truth
is I've lied to you since the first day I met you.

	See, I've always been in love with you. That's the real reason I
was so reluctant to tell you I was gay, and it's also the reason I've spent
so much of our time together being distant. I thought that if you knew that
about me, you wouldn't want to be my friend and I couldn't face that. So, I
lied.

	You know, when I look back on every thing, I realize that it was
always you who stuck his neck out, not me. If it weren't for you, I'd have
never even said hi to you after the first week or two out of the
hospital. I'd have drifted - no, run away - from the possibility of us ever
being friends. Remember that fight last spring when you nailed me for
keeping my distance? Shit, you were so right. Every minute I've spent with
you has been one where I've been so concerned about protecting myself, I've
never even thought about your feelings and what you needed.

	Even now, I realize that all this time you've been away, you've
sent me letters and called and not once have I ever made the slightest
effort to return the favor. I wasn't even smart enough to figure this out
for myself. Last week in therapy, I was bitching to Alice that I hadn't
heard from you in a while and she asked me if I'd tried to get in touch
with you instead. I was stunned. The thought had never even occurred to
me. What kind of an asshole does that make me?


	And my answer to that is the kind that would rather you believe I
didn't care rather than run the risk of getting rejected. I think somewhere
in the back of my mind I had this nice little scenario cooked up where
you'd come back and make all the hard choices and leave me with nothing
more to do than just open my arms and welcome you home. How's that for neat
and tidy? No need for me to commit, or put my ego on the line. I'd leave
that up to you, the same way I've always done.

	Sure, I figured there was always the risk that you'd feel rejected
and not even want to bother, but what the hell.... at least I'd know. It
didn't matter that real life doesn't usually include a guarantee of
happiness - only the possibility of it - and only if you were really
willing to risk everything to get it. No, my attitude was, "fuck the
possibilities, I want proof."

	But that isn't real life and that isn't love. Because in the long
run, it doesn't matter if you love me as much as I love you or even in the
same way. What matters is that I love you enough to trust you to accept me
telling you how I feel. And if you can't return those feelings, then that's
okay, because at least, for once, I'll have known that I'd taken the
initiative.

	This hasn't been an easy letter for me to write, and I imagine
you're not finding it any easier to read. Please believe me when I say, I'm
not trying to put any pressure on you here, even if might appear that
way. Yes, I want you, but not at the cost of your happiness. If you really
feel this is wrong, I'll understand. It will break my heart, but I'd rather
that then ever run the risk of hurting you.

	But I need you to know how I feel because it would kill me if I
thought you were spending one minute worrying about whether or not I wanted
this to happen between us. So let me tell you again: I do want you,
Joe. More than anything else ever... I want you. And if you think there is
even a glimmer of a possibility that you could feel the same way about me
someday, I hope you'll remember this letter and know how much I would
cherish the opportunity to prove to you that I mean what I say.

	So what do you know, I'm dealing in possibilities after all...

Love Always,

Mike


I folded the letter, put in an envelope and walked to the corner and mailed
I before I could change my mind. Less than two weeks later, the answer
came. My hands shook as I tore open the envelope.



June 15, 1989


Dear Mike,

	I got your letter yesterday. I thought that was pretty good
considering the distance it had to travel. I wish you didn't feel bad about
not writing before. God knows you've had enough on your mind without
worrying about me.

	Oh course, that's part of it, isn't it? Oh Jesus, I wish this
wasn't all so hard. Right now, I feel like the worlds greatest fuck up. You
give me too much credit, Mike. From your letter you'd think you actually
thought I actually had a goddamn clue about what I was doing! I don't. In
fact, I think I never did.  Oh God, Mike, why can't I figure this out? Why
is one part of me so miserable because I can't see your face or hear your
voice, and the other so terrified that the thought of going home makes me
physically nauseous? I want to be with you, more than you can ever
imagine. And the worst is, I feel so damn guilty for not being there when
you've been going through all this shit that I can't stand myself. I've
never run from anything in my life before, and I can tell you, it's a
fucking shock to realize how weak I really am.

	You tell me you love me and I know you believe that, but frankly I
don't know how you could. You don't even know me! You don't know how much
I've hidden from you, from Betsy, from every person I've ever tried to fool
into loving me. You call yourself a liar; well, you're a novice compared to
me.

	You've given me a great gift by telling me all of this about
yourself. Don't think I don't realize that. And, never, never worry that I
would think less of you because of it. Hell, I should be so brave.

	But I'm not, Mike - at least, not brave enough. You've been honest
with me, and now it's my turn. See, just because I care about you doesn't
mean I'm ready to give up wanting everything else. I've never made it a
secret how much I want a family, a home. I don't know if I can give up that
dream, not even for you. And I don't think that this is something that can
be left to figure out later.

	I don't want to feel this way. I'm tired of missing you and I'm
tired of being scared of what happens next. But that doesn't mean I'm ready
to face it yet either. And honestly, I don't know if I'll ever be. I wish
that weren't so, but it is. I know the truth is supposed to "set you free,"
but I sure as shit feel like all it's done is bind me up into knots I may
never be able to untie.

	I love you, Mike.

	There - I've finally admitted it. I don't know it that's a good
thing or not. I love you, all right... but I just don't know if that's
enough. And God help me, I wish that weren't the truth.

Love,

Joe



I read the last paragraph again for the hundredth time and then folded up
the sheets, put them back in the nightstand drawer, and wiped my eyes. I'd
received Joe's response to my letter a week ago and I really didn't need to
look at the letter anymore to know what it said. That didn't stop me,
though, and I was pretty sure I'd be rereading it for years to come,
whatever the final outcome was.

The problem was, I had no clue what that outcome was going to be. The first
time I'd read the letter, I was sure there was no way he was ever going to
choose me; the next time all I could see were the words "I love you." I was
back to not sleeping very well, but this time it wasn't nightmares I was
afraid of: it was dreams of Joe. They were happy dreams, and you'd think
that wouldn't have been so bad, except it was because the minute I woke and
realized that he wasn't really here and maybe never would be again, the
disappointment was crushing.

I wanted to give him time, I really did, but I was impatient, too. I needed
to hear his voice, and I told myself that maybe that would be enough to
appease me for a while. I hadn't talked to him since the week he'd
left. Maybe I needed to change that.

I bugged Beau until he gave me Josh's phone number. I knew that Joe didn't
live with him in his apartment anymore. He hadn't since the first week. But
I figured if anybody knew how to get a hold of him, it would be Josh.

I looked at my alarm clock. It was time: 7PM in Rome, still too early for
eating in that city, but late enough that Josh would probably be there. I
took a deep breath and punched in the phone buttons. Even though I was only
calling Josh, the thought that soon I'd be talking to Joe made my heart
pound.

"Prego." The voice on the other end of the phone made the heavy pounding in
my chest skip a beat. I stared at the phone, unable to speak.

"Hey," said the voice, "anybody on the line?" And then the sound muffled
momentarily as the person turned and spoke to someone else. "I think we've
got a breather here."

I swallowed hard. My mouth was dry, and I desperately wished I'd had the
forethought to grab a beer before I'd started this. Despite the whine of
the overseas connection, I knew the voice on the line, and it wasn't
Josh's. For all that they were almost identical.

"Joe?" I finally managed to get out.

There was a silence and I thought maybe I'd taken too much time to respond
and he'd already hung up. Then I heard a whoosh of breath as it was exhaled
into the receiver. The relief that came with knowing he was still there
made my knees weak and I sat down heavily on the bed.

"Yeah," came the wary reply.

"Joe, it's... it's Mike."

"I know." He didn't exactly sound overjoyed to admit it.

"I didn't expect to have you answer the phone," I babbled. This was not
going at all the way I'd hoped. "Actually, I wasn't expecting you to be
there at all. I was calling Josh to..."

"Oh, REALLY?" he snapped. It didn't make sense, but I could swear that Joe
sounded pissed. "Well sorry to disappoint you, but I am here, so I guess
you and my brother will just have to set another time to talk behind my
back!"

Oh shit - now I understood. "Joe, wait," I protested. "That isn't what this
is."

"Yeah, right," he said sarcastically "I forgot how you and Josh are so
close. You've maybe talked to each other like, what... three times in the
last four years? Of course, with a friendship that intense, you two would
need to stay in touch."

I shook my head. "Aw, Jesus Christ," I cried, "at least give me a chance to
explain!"

"Explain what, Mike? I think I get it perfectly. You and my brother are
cooking up some scheme to get me back there. I wondered why he'd been on my
back so much lately, and I just think I figured out why."

I started to get angry, but then caught myself and softened my
voice. "You're so wrong, Joe," I began, "and if you'll just stop acting
like an asshole and give me a minute and listen..."

"Fuck you, Mike!" he snarled.

There was another voice now in the background, urgent, pleading and Joe
must have pulled his mouth away again from the receiver, because his voice
sounded more distant, "You stay the hell out of this, bro'! In fact, why
don't you just get the fuck out of my life all together? I don't know why I
even came to you in the first place!"

"Joe, Joe!" I shouted into the phone, trying to draw his attention back to
me. "Why are you acting this way? Shut up before you say something you
regret!"

There was silence again. When Joe finally spoke, his voice was shaking with
emotion. "I can't... I just can't do this, Mike. Please, don't push me, I
can't..."

The phone suddenly dropped, and after a moment, another voice was
speaking. "Mike, it's Josh."

"Oh shit, Josh. I'm so sorry, I don't know what just happened... what I
said!"

"It's not you, really. Don't worry about it. Joe and I were just having a
little difference of opinion, and then you called and he decided to use
that as an excuse to go a little nuts."

Reaction was setting in and now I could feel the tears trickle down my
face. "God, what have I done?" I said in a hoarse whisper.

"Nothing, trust me." Josh's voice was firm, but gentle. "You didn't do
anything wrong, Mike. It's just your timing that sucks. Look, can I call
you back? I have to go chase down Mr. Prima Donna. He ran out of here and I
need to find him and bitch-slap some sense into him." He sighed.  "God,
he's such a goddamned drama queen."

Josh never had fit my image of what a priest should talk like. Any other
time, I might have laughed at him; today, I barely noticed. "Yeah, fine," I
said, trying to regain my composure. "I'd like that. Oh wait - I can't. I
have to go to work."

"Hmmm, okay... tomorrow, then. And listen, Mike," he said, his voice
softening. "Don't worry. Joe is just... he's really confused right
now. He's going to be fine. I promise you that."

"Good," I said, but I didn't believe him. "That's good."

We said our goodbyes and broke the connection. I sat there motionless on
the bed. I didn't even hang up the phone, but stared blankly at the
receiver in my hand as if I'd never seen one in my life.

I didn't know what the hell to think now. Obviously, Joe was in a lot worse
shape then I'd hoped, but Josh had acted like he didn't think it was that
big a deal. I'd heard enough about Josh from his brother to know that he
wasn't the kind of guy who'd say something if he didn't actually believe
it, so I had to think he knew what he was talking about.

I forced myself to get up and start getting ready for work. I was going in
later than usual because I knew I'd have to be at the office at least until
10PM. We had a big case that had started trial today, and there was bound
to be some last-minute research that had to be done after the first
witnesses had been called. I'd been bitching because I usually hated
staying after hours but now it didn't seem so bad. This night was going to
be long enough; I didn't need to spend it all alone.

So it was after midnight when I finally got back to my apartment. The
answering machine Cam had gotten me was blinking wildly, but when I checked
the 5 messages it showed, only two weren't hang-ups. Fucking telemarketers,
I thought as I punched the button and deleted another one.

The next call wasn't a hang-up; it was my Mom. She was just calling to tell
me that my brother Andy had broken his leg trying to get out of his
second-story window to escape being grounded. Good, I thought. That ought
to slow the little bastard down. I didn't know what his problem was lately,
but I knew he was driving my parents crazy, and I didn't think they
deserved that. Of course, I'd be predisposed to take their side as Andy and
I had never liked each other, and he was the only one of my family who'd
thought it necessary to make a fuss over my being gay. Ever since he'd
found out, his pet term of endearment for me was 'fucking faggot.' So it
was understandable that I wasn't too upset that he was in a little pain
now. Maybe it'd do him some good.

The second call was less satisfying. It was from Josh. He told me he'd
forgotten, but he was leaving for a conference tomorrow - or rather, I
supposed, today. He had to play slave boy to one of the Vatican
dignitaries, so he wasn't sure if he'd be able to get any time away to talk
to me. He did say he'd managed to catch up to Joe and had somehow convinced
him that my call had been perfectly innocent and not part of some giant
conspiracy between Josh and me. He ended by saying he'd try and talk to me
as soon as possible, but if I didn't hear from in the next few days, he
wanted me to know that he wasn't blowing me off; he was just unavailable.

I had to be content with that, but it wasn't easy. I wasn't very sleepy
now, and I puttered around the apartment not sure how I was going to cope
with all of this for much longer.

I flipped on my TV but there wasn't anything interesting on. I tried
reading, but I couldn't even get past the first couple of pages. I could
have cleaned, but I didn't like doing that when I was happy, let alone
depressed. I thought about going out for a drink, but figured I wouldn't
get there until last call, and most of my friends would already have found
their true love for the night and split. I finally decided if there was
nothing to do, I might as well do it in bed.

I'd stripped and had just climbed under the covers when the phone
rang. Good, I thought. Maybe someone was calling to tell me to get my ass
over to some party. Not that I was in a party mood, but I was willing to
try anything to stop my thinking about Joe.

"Make it good," I said into the receiver.

"Mike?"

I sat up in bed and turned on the light. "Joe! Is that you?"

"Uh, yeah." He sounded nervous. "I hope it's okay that I called."

"Of course it's okay," I insisted. "I was really worried about you."

There was a slight crackle of static in the line. "I wasn't sure," he
began. "I mean I acted like a total asshole yesterday. I can't believe how
stupid I was."

I didn't say anything. It wasn't like I could disagree with him, after all.

"Anyway," he sighed, "that's why I called - to apologize."

"Apology accepted," I said, too relieved to make him suffer. "Now, how are
you really? Is the weather good? How do you like Italy? Have you played
tourist and seen all the sights?" I know I was acting like an idiot, but I
was desperately trying to think of anything to say to him to keep him on
the line. I didn't care what we talked about - just the sound of his voice
was making me happy.

"Whoa, slow down!" he said with a laugh. He was sounding happier, and I
started to grin in spite of the nervous sweat that had broken out on the
back of my neck. "I'm fine, really," he continued. "The weather is hot and
the sun shines every fucking day. Italy's cool, though, I guess. I've been
to the Coliseum and St Peter's, of course, but I really haven't been up
much for sightseeing."

"So what have you been doing?" And then I wanted to kick myself when Joe
grew silent.

"A lot of things. Nothing. Well... thinking, mainly," he finally answered.

I chose my next words carefully. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

It took Joe a minute to answer again and when he did his voice was so soft
I could barely make out the words. "More than you could ever imagine,
Mike." He swallowed. "Look, could we just not do this now? Could we just
pretend for a little while that none of this happened? I mean...  I miss
the way we used to be - just friends, you know? Couldn't we try that again?
Please? I just want us to be friends again."

My heart went out to him. I knew exactly how he was thinking. There were
times when I wished the same thing myself. But as appealing as that
sounded, it wasn't going to happen.

"I wish we could Joe," I agreed sadly. "I really do, but I don't see that
happening, bud. You really can't turn the clock back."

"Yeah, I know," he said.

We were both silent as the real impact of those words sunk in.

"Mike?"

"Yes?" I answered.

"I think I need to go now."

My heart sank. "If you think that's best."

"I'll call you soon." His voice was husky. "I promise."

"Okay, good." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.  "I love you."

He didn't hear me. He'd already hung up.



# # # # # # # # # #



author's note: I know, I know.  But I promise this is the last chapter I'll
tease you with.  Ten, which is almost done, will start the resolution of
Book One of The Human Condition.

As always a big thank you to Marc, the Peckman for his superb editing.  And
a special thanks to Nick, Keith and Richard for all the diligent research
they did for me on the porno section.  It was a dirty job, but you guys
were great.

Jayne