Date: Mon, 21 Jul 2008 11:28:21 EDT
From: Heavensforlife@aol.com
Subject: Me and My Boys Chapter 5

Me and My Boys
Chapter 5

       **If you don't mind reading about gay sex between characters that
don't intentionally resemble anyone in real life and if it is safe for you
to do so in your area then please enjoy!! Also, your feedback at
Heavensforlife@aol.com is greatly appreciated and necessary for me to
continue giving you great stories. **
       **Classes began that week and teaching gave me an adequate
distraction from my dilemma. Will was nothing if not persistent, and I told
myself the safest way to protect my heart and my relationship with Jesse
was to be smart and avoid him.
       But that was easier said than done.
       On Monday, he texted me during my morning run: I hear NYU is
starting classes today. Good luck! W.
       On Tuesday, it was during an impromptu lunch with the dean of my
department and another associate professor: I'm shopping and I saw some
shoes you would die over. Call me and I'll tell you where.
       On Thursday, he called and left a message. "Hey. It's been almost a
week since we hung out. I thought we had fun. Let's do drinks this
weekend."
       And on Friday morning, after I'd listened to Thursday's message 16
times, I decided that I couldn't avoid him any longer. Before I made the
call, however, I sat down and thought about what I could write for this
week's column. It was the third one of the year and the first two had
already gotten a good response, so I wanted to keep up the good work.
       As I sat in my office, one of my students, Ricky, came in to
conference.
       "Hey, Mr. Strong," he said after I told him to sit down. "I just
wanted to find out how you got your position at the school's paper."
       "So you're a writer?" I asked.
       "Yeah. And I was hoping you could maybe give me a reference. I'd
love to have a legendary column like you do one day." He was flattering me,
but I liked it.
       "Legendary? I wouldn't say that," I replied.
       "Oh no, sir," he said making me feel old for a second. I couldn't
have been 8 years older than him, but at 26, I was still sir. "My friends
and I read it all the time. When you talked about relationships changing
the last week, I knew exactly what you were talking about."
       "Oh really?" I said. I had no clue what he was getting at. "Well I'm
glad. Care to share?"
       "Sure," he said. "It's just that there's this older guy that I
totally have a crush on that I shouldn't even be looking at. First of all
he's out of my league. Second of all, it's a totally inappropriate crush."
       He must be swooning over a hot coach or boss of his like I was when
I was a freshman. Older guys, especially those in power positions, always
seemed hotter.
       "Well, you can't help how you feel, Ricky," I told him. "But you can
help how you act upon those feelings. If this relationship is really as
inappropriate as you say, I'd suggest not acting upon those feelings until
you know it's perfectly ok. I wouldn't make a move until you're sure it's
the right time."
       And as I was saying it, I knew I had my column for the week. Ricky
discussed the syllabus for a minute and I put him in contact with my editor
and offered to read some of his work. As soon he was out of the office, I
started typing. My relationship with the photographer has changed in such a
way that I'm no longer sure what to do. Do I go out with him as friends? Or
is that dangerous to the relationship I'm already in? At what point do you
know what the correct next move is? When is too soon really too soon and
too late really too late?
       After typing for an hour and coming to the conclusion that there was
never a perfect time for anything, I decided I'd kept Will waiting for long
enough.
       "I thought you'd never call," he said.
       "That seems to be a recurring theme," I replied. I couldn't tell
whether he thought that was insulting or not. I forced myself not to
care. "Look, Will I would love to have drinks with you, but now just isn't
the best timing."
       "I understand," he said understandingly. The fact that he understood
was annoying. He was supposed to get upset and leave me alone. Or get
jealous and give me a reason to cut him off completely. But he was being so
sweet and it killed me. "The guy at brunch yesterday? Was he-"
       "He was my guy, yes," I cut him off. "I was debuting him."
       "Oh," he said. I could hear his voice drop significantly. I decided
now was the best time to lie.
       "But he didn't beat your score," I lied. I couldn't stop myself and
as soon as the words had escaped, I realized how stupid they were. "I mean,
my friends really liked you back then."
       "And so did you."
       "So did I," I responded after a brief pause. "But like I said,
things are different now and if this relationship with Jesse is going to
work out for me, I can't be distracted by you. Your coming back is just bad
timing." Too late is finally too late, I wanted to say.
       He hung up and I called Jesse about dinner, finished my article and
e-mailed it out on time.
       **Meanwhile, Tanner was dealing with his own timing issues. When I
called him from the cab on my way home to shower and change before dinner,
he was walking home from his dry cleaners.
       "I got there at 5:32, Mike," he vented. "I was two fucking minutes
late and now I won't have my Perry Ellis blazer for Frank's dinner tomorrow
because I was two fucking minutes late."
       "They aren't open on tomorrow morning?" I asked.
       "Of course not," he replied. "I use the one fucking dry cleaner in
Manhattan that isn't open on Saturday."
       "You can borrow one of my jackets if you want," I told him. Talking
about clothes wasn't why I'd called Tanner. I wanted to know what was going
on with him and Frank.
       Since spending the night at my place last week, he hadn't said much
to me about the Frank situation. He'd gone home after last week's brunch
and I assumed they were working things out. Every time I called him, he was
dealing with an issue, but none of them was Frank.
       "I wanted tomorrow to be perfect," he confessed as the cab made it
to my avenue. "I mean, I want to be perfect on his turf so that he can see
what an asshole he was last weekend on mine."
       "That makes sense," I told him. It didn't. I should have told him
that it didn't. "So you guys are fine?"
       "I think so. I mean so we fought last weekend, you know. He's been
nothing but great this week. He even came home before me on Wednesday and
cooked steak. And with the partner thing ending tomorrow night, he's going
to have more time for us, you know?"
       I certainly hoped so, but I couldn't very well tell Tanner that I
was skeptical. What if he didn't have more time for him? What if becoming
partner made him even busier? It may have been less hours, but it was more
travel, more responsibility and certainly more stress. But if Tanner was
hopeful, I'd be hopeful as well.
       "Well you have fun at the dinner tomorrow and I really hope he gets
it. And come by and get a jacket if you want one," I said. He declined,
saying he'd go out and buy something from Barney's in the morning. I hung
up and two minutes later I was at my apartment.
       **That same night, Charles was attending a dinner of his own so far
uptown, he was worried he wasn't even in Manhattan anymore.
       I'd learned a long time ago not to be surprised by anything that
Charles ever did or said. But the past week, his actions had taken me to
new levels of surprise.
       On Monday, for instance, he did something he hadn't done in years-
he took someone he'd already slept with on a date. He called me from the
back seat of his newly acquired limo while the mysterious Jay was giving
him a blow job.
       "Yeah, I was on a date," he said. When I almost choked on my Evian
water, he told me to calm down. "I only took him to coffee for the mocha
flavored blow job afterward." I heard a "hey" and a "keep sucking that
cock," and I couldn't take anymore. I hung up the phone laughing as hard as
I possibly could have.
       On Wednesday, Justin came in to my class almost half an hour late,
wearing a shirt I more than recognized- it simply said NYU Crew 2004-05 and
I immediately knew it was Charles' senior year Crew T-shirt. I stopped the
lecture mid-sentence and gawked as he took a seat in the back before
stumbling back to what I'd been saying about 20th Century literature.
       After class, aware of my surprise, Justin paid me a short visit at
the desk in the front.
       "I'm sorry I was late today, Mr. Strong," he said.
       "It's your education, not mine, Justin," I said. He simply smiled at
me.
       "You can understand why I was tardy," he said smugly. I certainly
could. Charles had that `Jump/How High' effect on people and I had no doubt
he'd called Justin late last night and the co-ed had come running.
       "I hope your relationship with a member of the 2004 crew team
doesn't come in the way of your paper that's due this weekend. I expect it
in on time," I said.
       "I'll try to find time to turn it in before our date this Friday
night," he said. I was surprised that this kid was wearing one of my
friends favorite t-shirts the next morning. I was surprised that the two of
them were going on yet another date this weekend. And I was a little
surprised that Charles was juggling two incredibly cocky and arrogant guys
while not breaking a sweat. But what surprised me the most was that
Charles, the man notorious for the after-hours booty call and last minute
plans, already had a Friday night date set up on Wednesday.
       And while I was dressing for my mystery date with Jesse that Friday
night, Charles was sitting at a small table with miniature ketchup bottles
and table salt shakers surrounded by 5 of Justin's NYU friends.
       "So you're the old guy that Justin keeps talking about," one girl
with a slanted bob said after they'd been seated at the trendy restaurant
Lil- where everything was oversized as well as over-priced.
       "Cami!" Justin exclaimed.
       "I suppose I am," Charles said. "But you should hear what I tell my
friends about him." As expected, Charles charmed each and every one of
Justin's friends that night and when they went upstairs to dance in the
club part of the restaurant, Charles whispered a sexy "let's ditch this
party and go to my place." After saying goodbye to his classmate entourage,
Charles and Justin left Lil and headed home for some timely extracurricular
activities.
	"I think my friends liked you," Justin said in the limo as they
headed downtown to Charles' upper-east side apartment.
	"I'm glad I got the glee club's seal of approval," he said. He had
felt characteristically superior all evening; however, it wasn't because of
his intelligence and wit. He was simply older than all of the kids that
he'd hung out. It wasn't apparent to him until that night how much older he
was than Justin. "But they're not wondering why you're dating a guy with a
401k?"
	"No," Justin replied. "And did you say dating?"
	"By conventional definition only," Charles recovered.
	"Oh?" Justin said. "So how many other guys are you dating?" Justin
scooted in closer to Charles in the town car. He was suddenly feeling
frisky.
	"Depends which of Webster's definitions you use," Charles said.
	"I suppose our definition would be: 1. A verb. A term used to
describe a couple of hot as fuck men who occasionally share meals and have
unbelievably good sex."
	"Sometimes in limos," Charles said. "Driver, how about you give us
some privacy." The two eagerly watched the partition close and soft music
star playing. A few minutes later, in the very same limo that Jay had
swallowed what seemed like a gallon of Charles' cum not a week earlier,
Justin did the same.
	**Jesse had said that he had a surprise for me. He'd been building
it up all week, ever since brunch actually, and it was finally time.
	"This shirt isn't too much, is it?" I asked. When he'd come to my
apartment to get me at 7, I still wasn't dressed because I had no clue what
to wear. I wanted to look perfect and appropriate.
	"The shirt's fine. I told you to wear whatever you want," he said.
	"This would be a helluva lot easier if you would fucking tell me
where we are going," I shouted. He was sitting on my bed watching me
ransack my own closet. I finally settled on a light blue button front, a
dark pair of jeans and a brown leather jacket. I was dressed comparably to
his chords and a button front, but I still felt undressed for the super
secret dinner we were going to.
	"And why won't you tell me what we're doing tonight?" I asked as we
were strolling up Park Avenue. I assumed we were going to someone's house
somewhere, and the fact that we were in million dollar mile made me a
little bit nervous.
	"Because that would ruin the surprise," he said. "I told you not to
worry about it."
	Half an hour after we left my house on foot, we got to a building
on Park and seventy-something. It was plush and nice and it didn't take a
genius to know someone super wealthy lived there.
	"We're going up," he said, stopping suddenly. The doorman let us in
and said something familiar to Jesse. Jesse laughed and led me to a row of
private elevators. Once we were inside one, my anxiety reached a whole new
level.
	"You didn't tell me we'd be eating dinner with Ralph Lauren
himself," I said trying to joke.
	"Don't be silly," he laughed. "Ralph lives a few blocks up."
	I forced myself to calm down. Jesse said I'd be fine. He said I
looked fine. I had to have confidence in myself and I'd be fine.
	When he opened the door, a very redheaded woman opened with a big
smile. She gave Jesse a huge hug and shrieked as the two squeezed each
other.
	"Ronny," he said when she'd let him go to breath. "This is my
boyfriend, Mike."
	"Mike," Ronny said sweetly. "I'm Veronica. It's so good to see
you. Jesse has been blowing up my voicemail about you, it's kind of
embarrassing." She spoke incredibly fast and I detected a slight hint of
British under her Long Island accent. "Come on in," she said to me, closing
the door behind me. "Please, please make yourself at home. Jess, be sweet
and grab the cocktails out of the freezer. You, sit," she said looking at
me. "I'm going to check on the ribs and be right back."
	Ronny was stunning. She was about 6 feet tall and very slim. Her
skin was almost as white as I'd ever seen and silky smooth. She reminded me
of Nicole Kidman except that Ronny's face could move. Her hair was very
Mary Jane red and came down to her chest in soft waves that gave her a
modelesque silhouette as she bounced around the apartment. Jesse came back
with two martini glasses and handed one to me.
	"I think it's her signature citrus punch," he said. "Be
careful. One will do you in, but two will kill you." I took a sip and felt
as if I'd bit into a whole grapefruit and chased the taste with a handle of
vodka.
	"And I'm drunk," I said. Ronny was coming back into the overly
decorated living room as I said this. She smiled at me.
	"I have a heavy hand when it comes to the bottle," she said. "But
this drink requires a lot of vodka to cut the taste of tequila. It's my
trademark."
	"It's also the reason I lost my favorite pair of pants in Hobokin
that Christmas," Jesse finished. Before the sentence was even over, Ronny
had started laughing, knowing what he was going to say. I was having dinner
with Will and Grace and I finished my vodka with a side of citrus in two
gulps to help get me through it.
	"You, sir, must be thirsty," Ronny said noticing my empty glass. I
tried to say something, but Jesse was already giving me a concerned
look. Ronny got up to refill my glass and Jesse didn't waste a second.
	"Will you relax, please," he said. "This is my best friend. Trust
me, what you're going through is a whole lot easier than meeting the entire
anal sex and the city gang last Sunday and you didn't see me chugging
mimosas like they were water bottles at a rave. She'll love you like I do,
I promise."
	I couldn't have heard correctly. Did he say that she'd love me? Did
he say that she'd love me like he did? Did that mean he loved me? After
three weeks of officially dating? I wished more than anything I had time to
analyze and ponder and write something, but a second later, Ronny was back
with a fresh drink for me and a plate of shrimp cocktail for the three of
us. I knew I needed to be on my best behavior so I sucked it up and became
social.
	The formality questions were the first to come out. She worked for
Ralph Lauren as well except that she was part of the design team. She'd
spent the last six months in London and had just come home to settle her
late grandmother's estate, which included the condo she'd left her.
	"You think I could afford this place on my own at 26?" she asked.
	The two of them had met in college. They'd both gone to Parsons,
right down the street, and had become fast friends. Ronny set Jesse up with
his first guy, seeing as to he didn't come out of the closet until college,
and according to her he'd been "hooked on dick ever since."
	"What better place to find it than at Parsons, right?" she
joked. "I swear even the janitors at that school have a lisp."
	She was hilarious. She quickly put me at ease and by the time
dinner was served, I was having fun. I was also toasted, but I felt
comfortable around them.
	"So we almost stopped being friends over a boy," she said over
simply amazing chicken and Marsala wine pasta she'd prepared. "I come home
from a long day at work- I used to be a cocktail waitress, mind you so I'd
been on my feet all day. And I get home to find this guy making out with a
guy I'd been dating for two weeks," she said dramatically. Jesse was
flushed red and I was holding in my laughter. "It turns out that David had
come to my apartment looking for me. He was kind of drunk and he found
Jesse sitting there watching TV and eating my Oreo cookies. They got to
talking, David commented about being bi-curious and the next thing, he was
sucking face with my best friend."
	"Oh, whatever," Jesse defended. "I told you from the get go that
David was gay and you wanted to date him anyway."
	"I dated him because he was an amazing kisser," she said.
	"I know he was," Jesse replied. I couldn't help myself from
cracking up.
	The rest of the night followed in much the same vein. Ronny was
full of stories and I was an eager listener. She was also full of spirits
and she kept them coming like none other. By the time dinner and dessert
had come and gone, I was almost too drunk to stand.
	Jesse, who was sufficiently tipsy himself, was the designated
leader of the pack as we went downstairs to catch a cab. I said bye to
Ronny and promised to have her over sometime and tried not to fall flat on
my face as we waited for a cab.
	"She loved you," Jesse said when we were safely in a yellow vehicle
heading for my place. "I can tell. She's a tough one, but she loved you."
	"So now you're free to love me too," I slurred. I meant that in the
classic Will/Grace relationship way, an approval from Grace was an approval
from Will and vice-versa. Jesse's tipsy mind read too deep into what I was
saying and he quickly went on the defensive.
	"That was a slip earlier. I didn't mean-" he began.
	"It doesn't matter," I said. "I'll probably love you too
someday. But it's only been like three weeks, you know." At this point, it
would have been easier to stop the cab with my brain that to stop myself
from speaking. I continued to slur, only every other word making it out
coherently. "But I want to, ok? So don't ever leave me. Don't leave me like
that bastard Will. I love him too, though, but I don't want to. He's a
bastard."
	"You said that," Jesse said. I couldn't tell how much of my
rambling he was absorbing but he was content to let me keep talking. I knew
that talking would be dangerous. My voice suddenly got soft and sad. It
wasn't until then did I realize how loud I'd been talking before.
	"I don't know what to think. I love Will. We dated for like 2
years, you know? I can't just stop not loving him, you know? But where does
that put us? I don't know. I don't know," and then it happened. I became
that guy. I started crying right there in the cab. I would have been
laughing if I'd seen myself but at that moment, I was hysterical. Jesse
held me in his hands and I just sobbed until the cab stopped at my address.
	Jesse led me upstairs, helped undress, made me some coffee and gave
me a bottle of water. I began to sober up a little bit, realizing what a
mess I was and had been in the car and began drunkenly apologizing. Jesse
forced me to stop.
	"I'm so sorry I ruined your dinner with your friend. I'm so sorry
about what I said in the cab and crying and..."
	"Just," he said. "Shhh. Just shh. You're drunk and that's ok. Just
calm down and drink this."
	I don't remember how the night ended. But the next morning, I woke
up next to a fully clothed Jesse. There was a lingering smell of vomit in
my bathroom and my head throbbed. All I remembered was talking about love
and I knew that I had been a perfectly timed mess. And worst of all, that
very second, I remembered a phone call that I'd made last night. I checked
my phone and right there was all the proof I needed. At 4:14 am... W. Call
ended at 4:21 am... I'd drunkenly talked to Will for a total of seven
minutes and I was mortified.
	**That very night, Beau was having a timely mess of his own. After
sleeping with Philip after Charles' party, Beau couldn't have had a more
confusing week. He decided to swear off men for what seemed to be the
millionth time after the "I just left my girlfriend in my apartment"
comment and was focused on work. He spent all of Monday and Tuesday going
from casting to casting, audition to audition and got a couple of call
backs. He renewed his dance class membership and looked around for an
affordable vocal coach. On Wednesday, he called me asking for money.
	"How much?" I asked. In the past, I had seriously considered
opening up a Beau section in my bank account.
	"Not a lot," he said. "I just need to pay for a month of voice
classes. This lady is willing to do them for four hundred."
	"Four hundred for one month? Are you trying to be Andre Bocelli
over here?" I was already signing the check as I complained.
	"No, but I need something to keep my mind off of Philip," he said.
	"Straightee?" I asked. "From the party?"
	"Precisely," he said saying it slowly as if he were sounding it
out. I wouldn't put it past Beau to have read the word that morning on
`word-of-the-day' toilet paper. "I keep being tempted to call him, but I
know it's a horrible idea."
	"Um, doy," I said. "He has a live-in girlfriend. Of course that's a
horrible idea."
	After our conversation, Beau decided he'd also try to learn to
speak Italian. Anything to take up the time.
	And then the inevitable happened. On Friday night, while I was
probably spilling my guts out to Will on the phone, Beau received a call of
his own.
	"Hello," an ominous whisper came from the other line.
	"Hi Phillip," Beau said. "I recognized the number."
	"Cool," Phillip said quietly. "Look, I was wondering if you were
busy."
	"It's four am on a Friday night. Of course I'm busy," Beau said
sarcastically. In all truth, had Beau had something to do, I wouldn't have
been surprised in the least.
	"Are you home?" Phillip asked.
	"Yup."
	"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Phillip whispered and then hung
up. The whole thing seemed like a very eerie sex dream to Beau until he
heard the knock at his door 17 minutes later. He answered it and standing
there, looking as hot as can be, was Phillip the straight guy, wearing
athletic shorts, a white t-shirt and a beanie hat. Beau smiled beside
himself.
	Phillip was nothing if not classically handsome. He was 6'2, a
little taller than Beau, with a full head of brown hair, the perfect amount
of three day scruff and a chest as hard as a rock. His stomach was by no
means toned, but was as flat as you could ask for from someone who probably
drank too much beer and wasn't governed by the rules of NYC homosexual body
etiquette.
	Phillip didn't wait to be ushered in. He took his beanie off and
tossed it onto Beau's bed while Beau was behind trying to lock the door.
	"I don't have much time," Phillip said. "I don't want my girl to
wake up and find me gone."
	"What'll you tell her if she does?" Beau asked. He was watching
Phillip strip down faster than he'd ever seen a guy do.
	"I'll tell her I couldn't sleep and went out for a jog," he said.
	"You have this all planned out," Beau replied. At this point, Beau
had caught up to Phillip and was naked as well.
	"Get over here," Phillip said and pulled Beau to him a little
roughly. Beau, a guy in love with romance, was a little turned on by this
change of pace. Phillip didn't beat around the bush. Instead of going for
the kiss, he practically shoved Beau's face into his chest and told him to
work on his nipples. "Yeah, dude," he said loudly. "Work on those pecs. You
know you like those dude."
	For a guy that was self-proclaimed "straight" Phillip sure was a
fan of saying "man" and "dude" in bed as if a reminder that this time, he
was messing around with a guy. Most guys that wanted their cake and to eat
it too were usually content to just sit there and let the "gay" guy do the
work while telling himself he was imagining Angelina Jolie on his
cock. Phillip was different.
	Before long, he pushed Beau down and told him to worship his
cock. Beau followed orders and stuffed every last long inch of the guy's
dick into his mouth. He was turned on by Phillip's rough nature and the
fact that he was making a straight man moan like a baby above him was
driving Beau crazy. He pumped away at his own dick while his mouth worked
on Phillip's.
	Before long, Phillip wanted something more. A week ago, a quick
blow job had been enough to suffice. Tonight, he'd come for the real
thing. He turned Beau around and dove into his ass.
	"Oh, god, Phillip," Beau screamed. "That feels so good. Eat my
ass."
	And Phillip did. Beau definitely questioned Phillip's orientation,
but what he didn't question was his skill. He usually felt awkward when a
guy was back there, but Phillip's tongue reached so far deep into his ass-
probably from years of practice with pussy- that within seconds, Beau was
begging for Phillip to stick his cock in.
	"You want my dick, dude?" Phillip asked a little too loudly. Beau
just grunted a "yes" and a second later, Phillip had a condom on and was
pounding away at my friend's hole. This straight guy must have been in a
hurry because he didn't waste any time. He was in Beau's ass for a total of
only a few minutes before he pulled out, flipped Beau over and came all
over his chest and stomach. Beau watched with glazed eyes, pumping away at
his own cock, as the bigger, hairier straight guy above him spilled line
after line of cum on him. The feeling of his warm sliding down his body was
enough to drive anyone crazy, but Beau was loving it and a second later was
squirting his own seed over his body.
	By the time Beau was recovered from the quick but hot romp, Phillip
had already slipped back into shorts and T and was heading towards the
door.
	"That was hot, man," Phillip said.
	"Yeah," Beau replied. "We should do it again."
	"Oh we will stud," Phillip said in the doorway. "I'll call you."
	As his newest guy was leaving, Beau couldn't help thinking that the
straight thing aside, Phillip was almost perfect.
	**The next day, I avoided that conversation with Jesse by waking up
earlier than him, quickly nursing myself back to health with two aspirin,
two full cups of water, a long shower and a beer. I called Tanner and
insisted I accompany him to Barney's in search of a new jacket to wear
tonight. I did all this, and left with Jesse still fast asleep.
	As I was leaving, I decided I needed to make amends. I also decided
that in the event that Tanner should leave before I came back, there would
be no way for him to lock up. So I left my key and a note on the counter
saying: I'm sorry. This is for you. M.
	I hoped my actions last night weren't a deal breaker for him, and I
discussed the very possibility with Tanner at Barney's.
	"So you have no clue what you said during the phone call?" he asked
in the men's department while we both sipped some Vodka/Cranberries. Only
one design had caught his eye so far and it was a gorgeous navy James Perse
with paisley lining. We were now looking for shirts that would go and not
bankrupt Tanner's budget.
	"I have no clue. All I know is that the call was made at 4:14 and
lasted 7 minutes. What kind of call lasts 7 minutes?"
	"Well it sure wasn't a voice mail," Tanner said. Duh, I
thought. "This is bad."
	"I know that," I said. "So I gave him my key."
	"Well that's great. What a big step."
	"Well, not gave so much as left," I confessed. "I left him my key."
	Tanner told me that it'd be best to talk to Jesse about it as soon
as possible. I decided that was a good idea too and decided to go home
after Tanner had settle on a crisp white safari style shirt that was equal
parts trendy and sophisticated to go with his new blazer.
	"You're going to look hot tonight," I told him. And evidently he
did. He paired the new jacket and shirt with a pair of his favorite khaki's
and he fit right in at the semi-formal dinner hosted by Frank's law firm.
	The two of them were by far the youngest guys in the room when they
arrived that evening and it wouldn't have been a stretch to say that Tanner
wasn't the most attractive. The suits surrounding them looked like they
were one golf game away from kicking the bucket and even the twenty and
thirty somethings looked like they belonged to a different generation.
	The crowd was mingling and the aura was light, but there was an
underlying tension between the guys that were in the running for partner-
Frank included. There were seven candidates in all, most of them had been
at the firm for at least 5 years. Frank was the most junior of them all,
but his work since he'd interned at the firm in his second year of law
school had proved exceptional. His mentor was ready to call him the next
great tortes lawyer of Manhattan. Everyone in the room except Frank new the
young guy had one of the spots in the bag.
	"You're going to do fine," Tanner assured him during their second
trip to the open bar. "Just focus on looking humble when they make the
announcement."
	After an hour of forced smiling and heavy drinking, one suit who
was suffering from a very serious sunburn after a day of golfing no doubt,
clicked his glass to make an announcement.
	"I hope everyone has enjoyed the food and beverages," the guy Frank
whispered was Schwartz of Johnson and Schwartz announced.
	"We have, Bobby," a toasted guy shouted from the back. His wife of
at least twenty years his junior looked embarrassed.
	"You've enjoyed a little too much, Mr. Milligan," Schwartz
joked. He went on to reveal why everyone was there even though anyone who
didn't know deserved to be stabbed with a hot meatball skewer. "And it is
my privilege to announce Mr. Douglas Portman and Ms. Vanessa Price as our
two newest partners."
	Tanner looked at Frank's face and saw the look of elegant
disappointment in his eyes. The hand he'd been squeezing got two times
tighter and Tanner knew that Frank was more upset than he'd ever
been. There was a quick round of congratulations to the two lawyers who had
made partner, another brief announcement about being back at work on Monday
and those who so please stayed for dinner.
	"Um, I'm getting a headache," Frank said. "I'm going to make the
rounds and we can get out of here."
	"Everyone will understand," Tanner told him. As much as Tanner felt
for Frank, there was a little part of him that was a little relieved. He'd
finally have his Frank back. The Frank that wasn't so driven and
consumed. The Frank that paid attention to detail and most of all, the
Frank that was available.
	That night, however, Tanner saw a different Frank. He saw a Frank
that had suffered a disappointment. They walked home slowly, barely talking
and Frank simply made himself a sandwich, popped a beer and went to
sleep. It was 9 o'clock. Tanner decided to give Frank time. There was no
use pestering him. He'd offer his condolences when it was the right time.
	**For the first time in months, the Sunday's brunch involved drama
for each of us. First there was Beau, who couldn't deny the fact that there
was something about his straight guy that drove him crazy. Although all of
us loved doing self described straightees, falling for them was strictly
forbidden. Nothing good ever came from a crush on a straight guy, no matter
how much he flirted, sucked or fucked. The truth is that at the end of the
night, they always go home to their girlfriends and wives.
	All of us where curious to know what was going on with Charles.
	"You went to meet his friends?" I asked incredulously. "What part
of this isn't a relationship?"
	"It's complicated," Charles said trying to maintain his air of
superiority. "The kid is infatuated with me and I can't stop him. Oh, and
cut him some slack, will you Mike. He'll have his little essay in first
thing tomorrow."
	"It was due on Friday," I said. Charles gave me a look of
mock-sympathy. "I won't take off the full third if it's good. Otherwise,
he's on his own."
	"It's good," he said. "I proofread it."
	"Ah, that's cute," Beau cooed.
	"What? Did `Who-Wants-to-Date-a-Straight-Guy' say something?"
Charles asked with the air quotes and everything. We all laughed.
	The status of their relationship was still up in the air- as was
his relationship with Jay who'd seemed to fall off of the face of the earth
as Justin and he were getting serious. All I knew is that after brunch,
Charles asked if Jesse and I wanted to join him and Justin for drinks on
Tuesday. I said I'd think about.
	Tanner announced that he was both sad and relieved that Frank
didn't get the partnership.
	"It's like, he has more time now. He's talking about taking two
weeks off for the honeymoon instead of one. But I can't help thinking that
he'll have to try again in six months or a year and this time he'll be even
more intense. I don't know if I can deal with the neglect again," Tanner
said.
	"But you can deal with the perks of being married to a partner of a
major Manhattan law firm," I said.
	"I know. You might be able to leave your job as a hand-writer,"
Charles joked.
	"I do contracts," Tanner defended. "And I can't do that. I don't
work because I have to. I work because it's fun. I don't know. I'm just
glad that I have the old Frank back, you know? Not the ambitious get ahead
Frank."
	And then there was me. Since Friday night, I'd had time to reflect
about what I'd browned out and I'd talked to Jesse about the rest. After
vomiting what I'd had to drink at Ronny's and crying for an hour, I
insisted on calling Will and giving him a piece of my mind. Jesse tried to
stop me, but I wasn't stoppable. I dialed Will's number and proceeded to
yell at him about how much he'd hurt me and how damaged I was. I told him
that I was lucky to have Jesse to pick up the pieces and that I was getting
over him. Jesse couldn't tell what Will was saying of course, but he said
that I pretty much talked non-stop until I hung up after a few minutes. The
gist of the rant was that I told Will he'd messed up major and that I was
forgiving him but moving on.
	Jesse and I had talked yesterday about how he didn't feel that I
was over Will. I assured him that I was and that I was ready to move on
with our relationship. He's my past- I assured. I couldn't forget it and as
much as it was there, I still wanted to build a future. Jesse, ever the
sweetheart, proved understanding and said he'd try to understand.
	My boys had different opinions.
	"When are you going to resign yourself to the fact that you still
have feelings for Will," Tanner said. He was ever in Will's corner.
	"Some things are deal breakers," Beau asked. "A year-long
abandonment is one of them."
	"What do you know, home wrecker," Charles said.
	"This is different," Beau added quietly as Charles simply continued
to speak.
	"I think you have a great thing here," Charles continued. "Two guys
who are crazy about you. I find myself in a similar position."
	"Whore," Tanner said.
	"And it's a good one," Charles continued, not listening to the
interruptions. "You can't go wrong when guys bid for you."
	Alas, I left brunch with more thoughts than I could sort out, as
did my three best friends.
	**"This is perfect timing," Frank told Tanner as soon as he got
home from brunch on Sunday. "I just got off the phone with Schwartz."
	Tanner noticed a glow of happiness on Frank's face and he
immediately got nervous on the inside while showing excitement on the
outside.
	"What did he say?"
	"He said that my performance the last few weeks has been
exceptional. So great that he didn't want to simply make me partner. He's
sending me to start my own branch of the firm, Tanner. This is a dream come
true. I'm going to have my own firm."
	That was great news. A minute later, Tanner got the brick that came
along with the feather.
	"There's only one problem, and it's not even that major," Frank
continued. Tanner continued to wear the artificial smile on his face. "The
office is in Dallas."
	Tanner wanted to cry. Instead, he held back his tears, whispered a
"that's wonderful" and gave Frank a hug. He'd wait until the excitement
passed to tell Frank how he really felt- he wasn't moving to Dallas.
	**As for me, I got a timely surprise when I arrived home. I tried
to unlock my door and realized it was already open. I assumed that Jesse
had decided to use his key to surprise me, and I went in with a big grin
and a "hello, lovah!" Carrie Bradshaw style.
	I wasn't greeted by Jesse. Instead, I was greeted by an oral
assault by Will. He jumped off my couch, grabbed my face and gave me a big,
wet, sloppy kiss. I should have backed away but I let him kiss me. I should
have pushed his body away from mine, but I let his crotch rub against
mine. I should have thought about something other than Will's warm tongue
diving into my mouth, but I moaned into his mouth instead. After a kiss
that lasted too long for a man who was in a relationship, I finally pushed
him away gently.
	"Your phone call on Friday made me realize something," he said. "It
may be too late to erase what I did a year ago and I get that. But it isn't
too late to show you how I still feel. I know you're not over me, Mike," he
whispered. "Let me show you how not over you I am too." And then he
did. With another mind blowing sensual kiss.
	The only thought I could muster out of my cloudy brain was that at
that moment, I prayed that Jesse didn't come in as Will gave me the best
kiss of my life.

	**Thanks for continuing to follow the story of Mike and his boys. I
hope you enjoyed it. Please send me your feedback at
heavensforlife@aol.com. And also check out my other story on Nifty They
Say. See you next week with Chapter 6 of Me and My Boys.