Consider a "New Year's resolution" of donating to the Nifty platform.

The previous chapter ended on New Year's Eve with Cooper deciding who he wanted to kiss. I now present the FINAL CHAPTER of Coffee at 9. I hope you enjoy the read.

 

 

January

 

I knocked on the door of Mitchell's apartment.

"Hey!" he said, seeing me in the doorway. He pulled me in quickly and gave me a big kiss. "Happy New Year, Cooper."

"And ... and to you." My heart was pounding.

"Did you and Corey have a great week?"

"We did. We did. I just dropped him off. Lots of father/son bonding. As well as we can at this age, I guess. I had time to do some thinking too."

Mitchell stiffened. "I see."

"Mitchell, you know I was wrestling with my feelings this past month. I wanted to start the new year off fresh. I didn't want anything hanging over me. I knew I needed to come to some decisions."

"Okay."

"I've had so many problems resolving my issues with ... our past." I paused. I didn't want to go further. I took in a massive breath. I exhaled. "Deep down, with a lot of hard work, I think we could probably make us work again."

"Yes! Yes, we can," he said, smiling.

I motioned him to the kitchen chairs. "Mitch, the more I thought about it, I came to realize that love shouldn't be hard. It should come freely, naturally. Yes, any relationship takes work, but if it is hard ... then something's off."

"No." Mitchell whimpered. "Cooper, please don't..."

"I've reached my decision."

"Please don't break up with me. Please don't, Cooper. I – I love you!"

I looked down. "And ... I love you. A part of me always will. You were my first true love, and that – that – that just can't go away." I looked at him and grabbed his hands. "But sometimes love isn't enough. Even if we look good on paper, something is still off. You've strayed twice, once with someone in bed. Our bed. Obviously, you need more than me. I'm not the right person for you."

"Nooo. I love you. You're all that I want."

"I think you honestly believe that. I do. But something is going to happen. One day, there will be another Derek. You'll want something that I can't give, something that I'm not."

"I'm so sorry. I swear it won't happen again."

"And I think you believe that, but you don't really know that. Right now, you still have that book of all the men you've slept with. You keep that. Something is there — that means something to you." Mitch's head bowed. "And I think ... I think until you figure out what you really want, I would always live in fear that each day I woke up might be the day that you decided you need something — or someone — different."

"No. I only want you. I swear. You're all that I want. I love you."

"This is killing me. It is. We do love each other, but ... I don't want to live that way. I can't truly be happy — or even function — with those fears. My subconscious put those walls up for a reason. They protected me from being hurt. And if I couldn't — or can't — fully commit, then I wasn't the right one for you. It's on me."

Tears ran down one of Mitchell's cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he whimpered.

"Me too. Like I said, you'll always be in my heart. And I want you to be happy. And I know it will happen one day with someone who isn't me. And I'll be happy for you."

"You're choosing Laramie."

"I'm choosing Cooper," I quickly returned. "I'm giving myself some space to ... just be me. I'm taking time to come to terms with myself. Eventually, I do expect to see where things might go with Laramie and me, but I'm not jumping into that right away."

"Oh."

We sat in awkward silence. I had said my piece, so that burden had been lifted. But in that moment, my soul was very dark.

"I do have a request," I said softly.

Mitchell raised an eyebrow. "What kind of request?"

"It's a big ask. I can understand if you say `no.' Corey loves you. I hope that you might find it in your heart to do something with him from time to time. Eventually. Some day."

"I love that kid," Mitchell barely said.

"Maybe one day, you two can do something. Or once the hurt is over, all of us. You're my best friend, Mitchell. I don't want to lose you. We work in the same building. I still want you in my life. I realize that's not fair for me to ask. And I know that comes with some pain. But maybe weeks — or months — from now ... maybe we can do things again as friends."

"That's a big ask. We'll see. All I can concentrate on right now is how much I hurt."

"I'm sorry, Mitchell." I wiped my eyes. "It's the only way I know for me to be better."

He buried his face in his hands. There was nothing further to say that would make him feel better.

"I should go." I stood. He stood with me. He reached out to me, and I felt obligated to let him hold me. I knew I wanted it too. My heart was shattered. We were so tight for so long, and now ... it was ending. Part of me felt guilty for ending it, but I knew he really did a year ago. I just couldn't make it work, at least back to where we were. Our embrace lingered. His body shuddered in my arms as he cried. "I'm sorry, Mitchell," I whispered.

He grabbed my face and kissed me hard. "Sorry. I needed one last kiss." He turned his back to me, and I made it to the door, closing it behind me. As I heard it latch, I squeezed my eyes tight to keep my tears under control.

I closed the car door. I couldn't start the engine. I was numb. I was empty. There was such a lump in my throat. I sat in the driveway, knowing I hurt him. It killed me. While completely different, the feelings stirred up reminded me of coming clean with Natalie. I hated hurting people.

Mitchell and I worked in the same building. We were bound to see each other from time to time. How would he even look at me? We could never be best friends again. I cried audibly questioning if we could even be friends at all. I didn't care that he cheated on me. I just knew I was losing someone I loved.

But it was for the best. We could never be right. He severed the relationship to where I couldn't fix it. I exhaled a sorrowful sigh. I would never make love to him again. I would never share a bed with him again.

As I started the car, a song lyric came to my mind. Mitchell always liked supporting gay artists. "I'll never touch your body again" kept playing through my head. When I returned home, I found it on my computer. "Look Away" by Eli Lieb and Steve Grand.

I'll never touch your body again
We gave it our all, but this is the end
So we say that we tried
Watching you fade, I know it's goodbye

But I can't look away
I'm trying to face the truth
>From the mess that we made
So we say that we tried

But I can't look away from you
I can't look away

I played it three times. By the third time I knew every word, every line, every note. I had always loved the song, but now it was exceptionally painful while being therapeutic. I wasn't good at breakups. I so rarely had gone through them, and both times were brutal.

I had no idea how to live without Mitchell. I was no longer scared about not fitting in. I knew who I was. Tragically, knowing who I was meant admitting we weren't right for each other. He would just be a missing piece.

I piddled with putting away Christmas decorations. Natalie and I always hated doing that. It was so depressing. Once the final box was stored, there was something redeeming about everything being back in its place, but it also felt like something was gone. I hadn't been in the house long enough for things to feel like they were back in place.

Laramie's gift was on the end table. I lifted the sculpture and put it on the mantle. I liked it there. I couldn't think of anything that would more perfectly remind me of my son. One day Corey would be as tall or taller than me. The art would always bring back to me that he was my little boy, no matter how big he grew.

"Is it okay if I come by?" I texted.

"Totally," Laramie replied. "Want to get dinner?"

"I'm not hungry. I just want to come by."

I sat in his driveway a minute, wanting this to go okay.

"Hey there," he said in the doorway. Laramie pulled me in for a kiss. "Happy New Year!"

"Same to you." We kissed again.

I saw a half finished bottle of beer on the counter. Laramie noticed it and put it back in the fridge. He offered me a flavored soda and got one for himself.

For a couple of minutes I answered his questions about my week with Corey.

"I put your gift up on the mantle this afternoon. I love it there."

"I'm glad," he said. "I still want to do that base for you."

"I also need to talk. About us."

Laramie's body language deflated. He feared the worst.

"I went to Mitchell's place this afternoon."

"Oh. I see."

"No. You probably don't. I ... I broke it off with him. Completely."

"Really?" he asked, his eyebrows looking hopeful.

"I did. He'll always be my first love." I buried my face in my hands a moment. "But ... we're not right for each other. We love each other, but I really believe we each need different things."

"Does..." Laramie paused. "Does that mean ... us? Where are we in this scenario?"

I sighed.

"I love you too. I really do. Last night at midnight, all I could think about was wanting to kiss you."

His smile lit up.

"But, babe, I can't rush into this after breaking up with Mitchell," I said. "I need some time to process that. I hope ... you can be okay with giving me some space for a little bit."

"I understand."

Thirty minutes later, Laramie groaned as he fiercely ejaculated into my throat. He pulled his shaft from my face and moved off his knees to lie beside me. His hand wiped through the cum on my chest and he fondled my dick with his slick, sticky grip.

"Okay, NOW I really do need some space for a while," I said with an air of sarcasm.

We both laughed.

Laramie turned toward me to look me in the face. I was a gooey mess, so I felt hesitant to roll on my side to face him.

"You've been great with all my baggage," I started. "I think you and I have a good chance of being something ... wonderful. I love you. But I don't want to rush into this while I'm feeling like crap over ending things with Mitch. Let me clear my head. Let me find me again. This last week was tough ... figuring it all out. Corey kept me sane, but I still unraveled on many levels."

"Okay," he said. "I can wait until you are re-raveled."

I laughed and rolled on my back further.

Laramie leaned up again and positioned his body to straddle my belly. He found another stream of cum and wiped it into his hand to grab both of our cocks and held them together in a messy huddle. His was bigger than mine, but not as big as Mitchell's. He kept them cupped while he looked down on me. I could tell his gaze was sincere. He wasn't trying to be sexual; I felt a sense of honesty.

"Cooper. I get where you are coming from. I'll be patient as long as I know you are coming back to me. You always worry about your baggage, but all I know is you are someone who has seen all my dark moments, and you're still here. You don't judge. You don't mock. You've seen everything I am. Everything that makes me ashamed doesn't faze you. You see me — all of me — and you're still here."

Laramie got off me. He walked to the bathroom to get us a warm washcloth. I saw him rub and clean his crotch. He returned to the bed and wiped my genitals and chest. As we allowed my skin to airdry, I said, "Give me two weeks, maybe three. It's okay to call or text, but just let me be ... just give me space so I can be the best man I can for you."

He kissed me deeply before walking away with the towel.

 

—

 

The night was as cold as last night. There were still two packets of hot chocolate in the pantry. I saved the last one for Corey's next visit. I treated myself to the other one. I actually wanted to hold the mug more than I wanted to drink the smooth cocoa.

I looked out the back window. Most everyone still had their Christmas lights on. I figured many houses would no longer be outlined tomorrow evening, it being January 2.

It was a new year, and as much pain as there was in the day, I was at peace. The emotional anguish of late December was put to rest. I was fine with my decision. No. I was good with my decision.

Whether Laramie and I worked or not, I had put my demons with Mitchell to rest. The walls were no longer necessary. I just hoped we could continue to be friends. That was still a monumental thing to ask of him though.

I was optimistic about my new romance. If I allowed myself space for the moment, I was willing to open myself up to Laramie. A little space would allow me to put things in order. I had no doubts my love would stay strong during a short pause.

As I slid into bed, I pulled the sheets up over my naked body. I decided to sleep nude. I knew I would not have sex for a while. I was okay with that. I rolled over on my side and reached for the other pillow. I held it to my chest, imagining it was Laramie's body.

 

—

 

 

With New Year's Day on a Sunday, staff had the choice to take off the day before New Year's Eve or Monday. I didn't see or hear from Mitchell all day Monday.

 

—

 

I didn't see or hear from Mitchell all day Tuesday.

 

—

 

I didn't see or hear from Mitchell all day Wednesday.

I stopped for one last appointment with Dr. Horwood before my AA meeting.

"It's totally your choice, of course, but are you sure you are ready to end our sessions?" he asked.

"I am. The weight on my chest is gone. I'm ... I'm in a good place."

"And how do you feel about Mitchell?"

"I know I will miss him. We probably can't ever be best friends again, but I do hope that we can simply be friends. I want him to find someone who is right for him. Has he called you this week?"

"Yes. He ended our friendship."

"What!!?"

"He's hurting. I believe he will call me in a few weeks, and we will go out and talk and do the things we have done in the past. It's easy for him to blame me right now. I'll let him have time to process it all. Once he accepts it, he'll call me."

"Well, I hope so. I wouldn't want to be the cause of breaking up friends."

"Mitchell knows deep down that all of this is a result of his actions. Maybe one day he will figure out what causes him to take those actions. Hopefully."

"I certainly appreciate you helping me sort this out, Logan. I know if ... if anything surfaces and I feel I need to talk to someone, I know I can turn to you."

We spent the remainder of the session discussing this time of transition and how it relates to Corey. I was indeed grateful to Logan for the weeks we had spent together. If Mitchell hadn't suggested him, I would probably still be wrestling with how to work out things with Mitch, ignoring that they never could. I honestly felt stronger and in control of my life.

 

—

 

"Hi, I'm Cooper. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Cooper," the group replied.

"I recently made a very hard decision. I let my emotions get out of control. I – I knew I had to hurt someone, but I couldn't keep living through the chaos I created. Three years ago, I would have run for a bottle. I think of that horrible year when I thought drinking was an escape. For some reason, I actually thought it was an answer. When I couldn't deal with something, it was like ... a sedative I suppose. I thought it would make me feel better." I paused in my thoughts as I reflected on myself as a drunk husband and father. "I was so bitterly depressed. I hated myself.

"This recent situation is from my own doing. Here's a tip: Don't fall in love with two people. Both of them meant something to me. I never wanted to hurt anybody. But with each day, I knew it would just get worse. I had to make it stop, and New Year's Day was my stopping point. Or actually ... it was my starting point. I'm now in control again, even if things hurt a little.

"The good thing is that at no time this week did I want to grab a drink. It was hard, and it hurt, but I knew alcohol was not an answer. I wasn't tempted. This week. I feel good about that. I receive my two-year chip next week. It's going to mean a lot to me.

"Thank you, and by the way, Happy New Year."

The group clapped.

 

—

 

I didn't see or hear from Mitchell all day Thursday.

 

—

 

I didn't see or hear from Mitchell all day Friday.

I sat in my office Friday afternoon with all my work completed for the weekend. I decided to call my sister.

"Hi, Cooper. What's wrong?" asked Judith.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Because you never call me."

Was that true? Other than arrangements regarding parents and holiday visits, I didn't call Judith. That struck me as sad.

"Well ... you were on my mind."

"Oh?"

"I have a favor to ask. You will probably say no, but I want to ask anyway."

"What favor?"

"I receive my two-year chip from AA next week."

"Mm-hm."

"It would mean something to me if you could be there."

Judith was quiet. I was about to ask if she heard me, but she eventually responded. "It would?"

"Yes. I'd like you to be there."

"You would?" She was quiet again. "Why?"

"Well, I'm not going to ask Mom and Dad to drive. You live a little closer than Curtis. Typically I go to closed meetings, which are just members only, but I'd like to have others there for that night, so I will go to an earlier meeting. It's kind of a milestone, so if you were there it would be more meaningful. I know. I know. It's a big ask. You could drive back that night, or you haven't seen the house yet, you could spend the night. I know it isn't the ideal thing for your schedule, but..."

"I'll be there."

Her answer caught me off-guard. "You will? That makes me happy. Thank you."

"I'm glad you asked."

I told her I would text her the specifics.

I spent the rest of the afternoon inviting others to attend. Ophelia felt she could switch and be chairperson for the open meeting instead. I wanted her to be the one to give me the chip. She said she would arrange it. In our group, there were two weekend nights a month where chips were given out in somewhat of a ceremony. But if a member asked for a specific request, it was usually accommodated. The chairperson always had 24-hour chips and a few one-month chips.

I had planned to surround myself with others.

 

To: Mitchell Sanders
From: Cooper Snow

Subject: Wednesday

Hi Mitch,

I hope you are feeling okay. This is probably too big to ask, but I get my two-year chip at AA next Wednesday. 6:30. I know you really don't want to see me, but I know it would mean something to me if you were there. Maybe you will consider it.

I'm not sure what to say here. I want you to be okay. Even if we aren't together, I do miss you.

Your friend,

Cooper

 

—

 

"I'll be there," Brad said, setting down a blueberry scone.

"I'm glad," I said. "Having you and Emory there will mean something to me."

Both of them smiled at me. Emory took a sip of his coffee. I didn't make a production of my announcement, but I let them both know I ended it with Mitchell.

"Oh, wow! You made a decision," Emory said, stirring a packet of raw sugar into his coffee.

"Yeah. For a little while, it will probably be just the two of us again. Well, I'll have Corey again next week."

"I'm okay with that. I'm ... I'm proud of you. How do you feel?"

"Okay. I guess. Knowing I hurt Mitchell is painful."

"It was his own doing. Don't carry that pain for too long."

"I get that, but he still was my best friend; he brought me into the gay world. We will have a special connection that I can never forget."

"Fair enough."

"But I no longer feel ... the turmoil I did last month. And that feels good. With a little breathing space for a short time, I'll be ready to start things up again. I want Laramie and me to be right without any residual aftermath."

"How do you think Corey will take it?"

"We talked a bit over the holidays. He says he wants me to be happy more than anything."

"He's a great kid."

"He's awesome. He liked both Mitchell and Laramie, so I couldn't lose in that regard. But like me, he's going to miss Mitchell. One day, I'd love to see Mitchell be able to join us again."

"Won't that be weird for Laramie?"

"We'll see. They were friends for a while too."

"That sounds too nice to be true, but maybe it could work out."

"We're bound to see each other at work on occasion."

"Right. I tell you, Coop, you have some interesting days ahead. Thankfully I know you have good friends to see you through anything."

"Great friends," I said.

"I know Corey will be here next week — which is great — and Larry will eventually return, but I kind of like these days with just the two of us," Emory said.

"It hasn't been quite a year, but our coffee at 9 has been something I've come to count on. It's a nice constant in my life, you know?"

"I do. Last year you were heartbroken and floundering, not `fitting into the gay world,'" he said using air quotes. "I'm not sure I had moved past Gene much. Your friendship ... our friendship ... it has been a blessing."

"Amen." I patted him on the wrist. He was wearing the blue jean jacket from the day we met.

Emory told me about some other friends he had connected with over the holidays. It warmed my heart to hear him say so. He then went very quiet. He sipped his coffee and would then just stare at it. Brad stopped by and topped it off. Emory didn't acknowledge his presence. He just stared down. Brad looked at me and raised an eyebrow. My expression must have conveyed the same perplexity.

"Cooper," Emory started. "How old do you think is too old to consider starting up something."

"Do you mean romantically?"

"Yeah."

"125. Why do you ask?"

Emory rolled his eyes at my answer. "I just ... I might ... well..." He stopped. "The thing is, I was at this New Year's Eve party with Zane and Enrique. I was introduced to ... a man. Donald. Don. We really hit it off. I don't know. There was kind of an attraction there. We did kiss at midnight. Nothing passionate, but it was ... `in the moment.'"

"Nice."

"Yeah." Emory paused. "It was." Then his gaze returned to mine. "It has been so long since Gene passed. I just feel it is too late for me to, you know, start over."

"Why?"

"Well, Don is even older, 72. I ... I just don't know if it is worth pursuing. It just seems ... I don't know, silly. Don't you think?"

"Of course not. Everyone has the right to be happy. If seeing someone would make you happy, why hesitate? Do you think he would be interested?"

"I sort of picked up on that."

"Em, don't let your mind trip you up."

"Well, the mind isn't the only thing," he said, looking away a moment. "At my age, some other things don't always want to work."

For a moment, my soul drifted to the alternate universe. "It worked fine when we did it," I said with a mischievous leer.

"Yeah. You're a gorgeous blond in his late 30s. You're kind of better than a pill."

I laughed out loud.

"Emory. Is sex really the be all end all? Isn't someone's company infinitely more important than the trivial physical stuff?"

"Well, I wouldn't say trivial. You know, eventually you want to ... get there."

"And you'll find your way to being affectionate and tender together. If that is where it goes. Don't let it talk yourself out of doing something that could be nice and wonderful. Just see where it goes."

"We'll see. Next topic."

I reminded him of my two-year chip on Wednesday. He said again that he would be there.

"It has been a week without any boyfriends. How are you holding up?" he asked.

"Fine. I'm not feeling lonely. I'm looking forward to starting things up with Laramie. For now, I'm just making sure I'm okay with myself. I'm actually doing fine. He and I have texted occasionally. You'll see him Wednesday." I went quiet. "But ... I didn't hear from Mitch all week."

"That doesn't surprise you, does it?"

"No. I don't know. We're in the same building. I thought we might ... bump into each other or something."

"Cooper. Think about it. Upfront, let me assure you that I am totally fine with your choice, but for a moment, put yourself in Mitch's shoes. You broke up with him. You didn't choose him. Each time he sees you, he is going to think that. I know you want to remain friends but give the man some time."

"I suppose. I just don't want Mitchell out of my life. He's still important to me."

"Understandable. But you know how you are taking time for yourself at the moment?" I nodded at Emory's question. "Then allow him the same courtesy. He's hurt. And, yes, I know he hurt you a year ago, but he needs time and space to heal as well."

 

—

 

My laptop was resting on my crotch in bed. I pondered how many people would join me tomorrow evening. I had never been caught up in all the chips and their symbolism in the past. Sobriety was important; that was the main thing. I wasn't sure why the two-year chip seemed particularly significant to me, but it did. I closed the spreadsheet. I wasn't thinking about work anymore.

I hadn't had sex in over a week. I was astonished that I had not even come since Laramie and I had that quickie on New Year's Day.

I opened a browser. With a few keystrokes, a suggested porn site came up. Deep down, I hated everything about porn. There was no love, there was no tenderness. It was just physical lust. I guessed that's what people wanted to see. No attachments. On those rare occasions that I succumbed to it, I just wanted to ... watch. That was it.

The first video had a lover covered in tattoos. That didn't do it for me.

The second video had one of the men urinating on the other a few minutes into the scene. I was grossed out.

The men in the third video had such horrendous haircuts, I didn't even care that they had nice dicks. I just wanted to fix their hair. I accepted that I was judgmental in such things and took full ownership. Still, I moved on.

The hunks in the fourth video were outstanding. The masculinity was off the charts. I was aroused by them. I was exceptionally hard watching them. One started fingering the other one's ass. When he went from two fingers to three, I was impressed. A minute later his entire fist was engulfed. I groaned aloud in pain just watching it.

I slammed the laptop closed. It was placed on the nightstand. My erection was waning.

A year ago, I would have been in a depressive funk. I would have lamented that I didn't belong in the gay world. I would be alone. No one could ever want me; I was too backward and inexperienced.

"Nope," I said aloud to myself. I was okay that none of the videos were "me." It didn't bother me. I actually was okay not being like any of those in the videos. I liked who I was. I liked Cooper. And Laramie loved me. I loved him.

 

—

 

Jakob and Lance arrived 30 minutes before the meeting. The drive from Von was less than an hour, but I knew it was still an effort to come. We hugged for what seemed like an eternity.

"How did you guys get your two-year chips?" I asked.

"Our group in Von makes a big night each month," Jakob said looking at Lance. "I think most of us are in the first half of the month, so they do it in the third week. The chairperson always has 24-hour chips for newcomers. Usually there are a couple of one-month chips as well."

"It's nice that you have your own special night," Lance said.

"Ophelia was willing."

"It will be great to see her again," Jakob beamed.

We had been sitting in the lobby drinking sodas from a machine. Snow was lightly falling. The boys said the roads weren't affected. Yet. As much as they would love to stay over, they knew heading north later tonight was a smart idea. I was wondering if Judith might be changing her mind, but then I saw her car pull into a spot outside the glass window. I watched her walk to the lobby.

Following a clumsy hug, I asked, "Did you have any trouble finding the place?"

"No. GPS got me here in good time. It wasn't even snowing when I left home."

"Lance, Jakob, this is my sister, Judith."

"Oh, hi. It's very nice to meet you. We think the world of your brother."

"Hmm," she said, shaking their hands. I could tell she easily sized them up as a couple. The matching rings confirmed it. As hard as she tried to be cordial, her body language bellowed: "Oh. Gay."

We walked down to the meeting room. It was set up in theater style seating. The open meetings sometimes brought in more. I was certainly adding to the attendance tonight.

Ophelia arrived and had brought her husband, Kaden. She was thrilled to see Lance and Jakob again. Laramie arrived. We hadn't started us back yet, but we still kissed. Natalie arrived. I was surprised to see Corey, but even more so that Daryl came. I hugged all three. Daryl initiated his hug, which I found refreshingly nice. Richard, Rex and Janine had agreed to move to this time from our regular closed meeting following. Emory arrived. Most everyone knew each other, but I made sure Judith was properly introduced. She was delighted to see Natalie and Corey, so that helped things out a bit. Trent and Mike arrived just as the meeting started.

About a dozen people shared tonight. Since it was a milestone moment for me, I wished to go last. Laramie was at my side, and we occasionally grasped fingers. I occasionally glanced at Judith. She was a bit intrigued by the proceedings, but she didn't seem turned off or disturbed by anything. I felt she was moved by a few of the shares and their stories.

When I was getting the impression that it would soon be my turn, I just held Laramie's finger. Judith was on the other side of Corey and Natalie, so she had no idea. I hadn't told anyone in my family about the Mitch/Laramie switch. I was ensuring my head was on straight before I entered that territory.

When no one else seemed to wish to share, I walked up.

"Hi, I'm Cooper. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Cooper," the group replied.

I took in a breath for a moment. I stared out at my friends and family seated in the group. I hadn't noticed that Brad had arrived after we got started. He had been sitting a couple rows behind me the whole time.

"Tonight, I get my two-year chip. I haven't really been caught up in all the symbolic significance of the chips — I keep them all, of course — but this one is going to mean something to me. I should have reached this over six months ago, but a couple of years ago, I slipped up and took a drink. Something happened, and I slipped up."

I didn't know what made me look, but beyond the table with coffee and cups, I noticed Mitchell leaning near the doorway, almost in the corner. His hand was over his mouth, not concealing a gasp or a smile or anything. He was just absorbing that he was the reason I had stumbled two years ago. That was the first time I saw him with someone else — from work.

"I worked through that. I vowed to never slip up again. My son is here tonight. He is the most important person in my life. I won't say much more, or I will be accused of being `mushy,' but I want to be the dad he deserves. The only way to do that is to stay away from alcohol. He's my inspiration to do so; I couldn't be prouder of him."

Natalie bumped her shoulder into Corey's. My son just smiled at me. He didn't even roll his eyes. Mitchell took his hand from his face. I saw him grin as he looked at Corey. Judith smiled at him too.

"So many people in this room have helped me stay sober. Whether they are in AA or are just supportive of me..." I looked at my friends. "You are so important. I can't possibly tell you what you mean to me." I dabbed my eyes with a tissue. "Don't worry. I'm not going to do that," he chuckled. "I told myself I wouldn't cry.

"The thing is, a year ago, I didn't know how to be me. To be on my own freaked me out. I came out later in life. I felt I didn't fit in with anybody. I had lost so many friends. It wasn't all because of alcohol, but that only made it worse. SO much worse. I didn't know how to be Cooper Snow. I – I – I was adrift. It took several months last year for me to realize I didn't have to be alone. I had friends. I had people who loved me. I wasn't ... just a waste of space. I had something to offer. Offer someone."

It was hard to tell in the back of the room, but I thought I saw a tear go down Mitchell's cheek.

"Twelve months is a long time between these two chips. In that time, I have learned to like me. It has taken me a while to figure out, but I'm okay being Cooper Snow. I like me. I'm okay with who I am."

Judith's eyes were locked with mine. I could tell they were welling. She gave me a smile. It wasn't huge. It was as small and as simple as a smile could be, but for Judith, it was monumental. She lightly nodded.

"This year is starting off stronger. I've made choices — not necessarily easy ones — but I feel like I am on the right track. So the chip tonight ... it – it will mean something to me. And I have a special place for it.

"Thank you everyone. Thank you."

The group clapped. Mitchell left.

Following the meeting, Rex and a couple of men I didn't know rearranged the chairs in a circle for the closed meeting next. Rex told me he was proud of me, but he headed home. Richard did the same. I thanked them for being there.

"Most everyone hasn't eaten. We could get dinner instead of coffee. What would you like, Cooper?" Ophelia asked.

"Burgers sound nice," I said. We knew there was a burger place just a block away.

Grease Monkey was large enough that we were able to pull a few tables together for our group. Everyone placed their order at the counter and waited for their numbers to be called once their orders were ready. The soda machine was self-serve. Emory insisted on treating me.

I was seated in the center of the table. Judith was to my left, Laramie to my right. Across from me was Corey with Natalie and Daryl. Lance and Jakob sat next to Corey. Brad and Emory were near Laramie. Janine, O and Kaden were at one end. Trent and Mike were next to Lance.

Jakob leaned over to Corey. "I can't believe it has taken us this long to meet you," he said. "Your dad thinks you are a total rock star."

"He's so weird," my son said. Then he smiled at me.

"We've heard so much about you for the past three years," Lance said. "It is really cool to meet you. For some reason I pictured you being shorter."

"That's because he grows an inch a week!" I said. Natalie laughed.

"Dad. Stop," Corey chided. He had had enough attention.

"He is writing two songs," Natalie said.

"Wow," I offered. "You know, Trent here writes songs too."

"You're on the radio, aren't you?" Corey asked.

"Well, my songs aren't," Trent confirmed. We all laughed. "But yes, I'm on The Morning Show."

"Maybe I can have Trent ... Mr. Kyriazi ... work with you one day."

"I'd love it," Trent said.

Our numbers started being called. Slowly, we all received our orders. Conversation slowed as we all consumed our meals. Corey thought it was cool that they had tots as well as fries.

"Dad, you only had a drink that one night. You had made it more than six months at that point. Why didn't they just subtract one day instead of making you start over."

"Well, that isn't how it works, buddy. There is no real they. I keep track of myself. So it is how many days in a row."

"Doesn't seem fair," he said. Others smiled at him.

Talk then became simple. Pass the ketchup. Crispy bacon vs. chewy bacon. Mustard vs. mayo. Homegrown tomatoes are far superior to store-bought. The cost of ground beef.

Daryl knew hardly anyone. Kaden at least had met some of these people at my Christmas party but was still sitting across from Janine. The three of them seemed to initiate conversation admirably enough. Ophelia helped that along.

A sudden squall of snow blowing sideways out the window caused everyone to look at their phones and check weather apps. It looked to be moving out soon, but Lance and Jakob knew they had to drive home back in Von.

Once everyone had eaten an embarrassing indulgence of calories, Daryl and Corey walked around the table to collect everyone's finished baskets and took them to the trash area. I was proud of my son for making such a kind effort. It was nice of Daryl, too, but it probably gave him something to do.

Laramie moved his foot to press up against mine. I reached below the table just to rest my arm on his leg.

"Corey starts his morning with two cups of coffee each day now," Natalie said with no emotion. I couldn't tell if it was said with disapproval or an element of breaking news. Corey just looked at me with a shit-eating grin.

"That's our champ," Emory chimed in.

Conversation remained light. The snow seemed to subside. Soon, everyone motioned to stand and begin the effort to head to homes.

"Before everyone leaves, I would just like to say one thing." I seemed to have everyone's attention. "For you to make extra time for me in the middle of the week, I just wanted to say I appreciate each of you. Tonight was a little too much about `me,' but you've made it more memorable — and important, so I thank you very much. Really. Thanks for being here."

Lance and Jakob had to leave first. I knew they had the drive back, but I could tell by their body language that it was destroying them to leave.

"Thank you so much for driving down. I hope the roads are fine."

"I'm sure they are," said Jakob. "I'm proud of you for your progress ... and your resiliency."

"And I'm sooo glad we got to meet Corey," Lance said. My son turned to us hearing his name. "What a pleasure to meet you, Corey. I hope you will think of us as two more in your group of adult friends. Any time you want to see all the excitement there is in Von, come visit us with your dad."

Corey could detect the sarcasm in describing the sheer ordinariness of Von but nodded politely regardless.

Lance and Jakob also made pleasant regards to Natalie as well. She knew it was time to head out also; it was a school night.

"Can we have a milkshake before we go?" Corey asked.

"Absolutely not," she said with no wiggle room for any type of debate.

I squeezed Lance and Jakob and kissed each of them on the cheek. The three of us told each other we loved them. They started to head out, and Jakob turned back to give me another hug. "You're a good man, Cooper." Ophelia had been in the restroom and gave them bear hugs at the door.

Natalie told Corey and Daryl that she would visit the restroom and then they would head out. Corey darted to Brad, Emory and Laramie to tell them he would see them Sunday. They beamed whenever he gave them attention. I pulled Daryl down into nearby chairs.

"Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you coming tonight meant a lot. Not only was the night a little too much about me, but it also really made you see me at my worst, so ... thanks for that."

"I'm glad I was here. It helped me understand ... you ... a little more. You're a good father, Cooper. I'm actually inspired a little by you."

My expression of surprise had to have taken Daryl aback. "Me?"

"You've gone through a ... lot. I'll be honest. The ... gay thing ... makes me wrestle with questions of faith. It does. But I see in you a good person." Daryl hugged me, and I openly accepted it.

"It was nice to see you."

Ophelia and Kaden came up. "We've got to pick up Lydia," she said.

"I know. Thank you so much for being here. Kaden, it was particularly nice for you to sacrifice your evening for my ... moment."

"I was glad to be there. Congratulations on your accomplishment. Ophie lets me know how these milestones carry some weight. Good for you."

"I miss our runs," Trent said. He and Mike gave me hugs. "Congrats on the two years. We're encouraged and inspired by the person you are."

"We hope to see you again soon," Mike said. They then departed.

Janine hugged me as well. That left just Judith and our coffee group. Judith went to the restroom now that it was free.

"Guys, thank you. Among the group tonight, I know you don't know me from my AA commitment, so ... thank you."

Brad hugged me. "It makes me respect you all the more. I was happy to be there to see you get your two-year chip. Good for you. You're an awesome person, Cooper."

Emory hugged me next. "Good going, kiddo. Look how far you've come since I spilled coffee down your pants."

"Well, on them, not down them," I laughed.

Laramie and I looked at each other. We held each other for a moment. "I miss you," he said softly. We pulled back. "But I understand. I'm here when you are ready for us to be us."

"Thanks for giving me some time. I think I've come to a good place. I have Corey this weekend. I want him to fully understand my choices. If he feels okay, then ... I'll call. Hopefully next week."

We went in for a quick kiss. "I love you," we both said at the same time.

Judith returned, and we all went to the parking lot together. The snow had reduced to just random flakes, nothing heavy.

"I'll see you all on Sunday," I waved to the group.

Judith was parked next to me and was prepared to follow me home.

Fifteen minutes later we exited our cars. I placed mine in the garage because of the weather and joined her in the driveway. I invited her in through the doorway inside the garage, which placed us in the kitchen.

"This is nice, Cooper," Judith said, once I flicked on the lights.

"Would you like a hot tea before we call it a night?" I asked.

"You remember," she said in a pleasant voice.

I put the tea kettle on and initiated a five-minute tour of the house, carrying her overnight bag up to the guest room. She said she liked the house.

"You're clearly doing well," she said as we returned to the kitchen.

"It's not a mansion, Judith."

"Still, it is probably the nicest house in our family."

"More so than Mom and Dad's?"

"Oh, for sure."

"Hm." I had never really thought about it in those terms. I just wanted a nice house for Corey and me.

The tea kettle went off. I pulled out a basket of various teas. "Raspberry Zinger?"

"Ah, you know me well."

"It's not decaf. I do have decaf if you want."

"I'll find it relaxing enough," she said with a smile.

I started steeping her favorite. In a momentary lull in conversation, we looked at each other.

"I'm glad you came tonight, Judy."

"You haven't called me that in years." We simply looked at each other. "Why did you want me to come tonight, Cooper?"

"I suppose ... I just wanted someone from my family to see me ... in that moment. I know me becoming an alcoholic made everyone ashamed. Maybe I thought if someone in my family saw me ... `getting better'..." I said using air quotes "...maybe it would be a first step to my own family liking me."

"Cooper! Everyone likes you."

"Not really. Not anymore." Her look refuted my statement. "I'm gay and an alcoholic in a very religious family, Jud'. They don't really. It all changed a few years ago. Mom tries, I think."

"I think that's all in your head. We all love you; it's sad that you don't think so."

I glared at her. She knew there was some truth to what I said. Her body language became awkward. I assume she evaluated her own actions toward me over the past years.

"Your friends were interesting tonight. They seemed nice."

"Thanks. They are."

"So everyone was either gay or an alcoholic?"

I laughed. Well, not EVERYone. Ophelia's husband Kaden isn't. Daryl isn't. Natalie and Corey, of course. And you. Unless you are secretly slamming vodka shots each night before bed."

"Hardly."

I removed the tea bag from her mug and handed it to her.

"Thanks." She felt the warmth of the mug for a moment before even taking a sip. "I saw you kiss that Larry from Christmas."

"Yes," I said quietly.

"So. Larry the Christmas Guy is ..."

"Gay is the word you are looking for."

She took her first sip. "So. The kiss kind of looked ... legit. Are you seeing lots of men? What happened to Mitch?"

For a few minutes, I tried to convey to my sister how I had let my judgement get the better of me last month. She understood my apprehension with Mitch. She agreed. Her judgement of Laramie was yet to be determined.

"I will say that hearing some of the stories..."

"Shares."

"Right. I suppose they seemed more ... human. It made me realize we're all fallible. When you said you had learned to like yourself ... it – it hit me hard."

"Yeah?"

"It could not be easy going through life not even knowing who you really were or knowing how to like yourself. I'm glad you do now."

"I do. And you're okay with me being gay?"

Judith paused. I could tell she was formulating how best to phrase her answer. She took a sip.

"I'm glad you aren't hurting anymore. I have no desire for you to be conflicted. Scriptures tell me I should be against all that, but ... I don't want you to be miserable. When you said you felt like a waste of space, I died inside. I knew Mitch made you happy. I'm very sorry he messed that up."

"Partially. I take the blame for not being able to resolve my own conflict with it. He truly loved me ... or loves me. I was the one who built the wall."

"Well... he gave you good reason." She sipped some more. "So. Are you and Larry the Christmas Guy serious?"

"Just call him Larry ... or Laramie. Well, we aren't yet. Now that I feel I know who I am and have resolved my own personal conflicts, I want to sit down with Corey this weekend. He likes Laramie a lot, but he loved Mitchell too. He's so mature, but at the same time, I don't want to cast a level of maturity on him he isn't ready for. If he feels okay with me seeing Laramie, then I hope we can seriously look at starting a relationship. I love him. A lot. With him just sitting next to me tonight ... his foot touching mine ... my heart was racing at times."

"Sounds like love indeed."

"I've really missed him these past couple of weeks. He knows I come with a lot of baggage — and he accepts that. He is very understanding. I know he has some serious dark spots in his past, and I think the fact that we both can see beyond the past makes us a good fit for each other."

"I wish you luck. I wish you weren't gay. But I know that ... isn't something you really have the power to change. Please understand that I do get that. And that makes me question things. But I want you to be happy. Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?"

A big sigh from me let my sister know I dreaded it. "Eventually."

"They liked him at Christmas."

"When they didn't know he was gay."

I suddenly realized I wanted to show her something else. We walked to the fireplace mantle. I showed her the gift Laramie made for me. "It's called `Father and Son.' I think it's beautiful."

"It is. I like it a lot. I assume he crafted this with you and Corey in mind?"

"Yes." I took the two-year chip from my pocket. I placed it between the two figures of the sculpture. It wasn't noticeable unless you looked at the artwork closely, but I knew it would always be there. "Corey keeps me grounded. He keeps me sober. I'm placing my chip here to represent the connection we share."

"That's sweet." Judith turned back to me. She grabbed my hand. "I am proud of you, Cooper. I hope you can forgive me for my shortsightedness. If you have felt that I have put you down — to make you not like yourself — I ask you to forgive me. If I need to own that, then I do."

"Well, that's one. Actually, Uncle Randy is in my corner, too."

"I'll talk to Wayne." Her eyes met mine. "By the way, Curtis and I ... talked."

"You didn't tell him I said anything, did you?"

"No. I didn't throw you under the bus, but truthfully, you didn't tell me anything. I simply asked him why he didn't ask Wayne to join you all on that walk on Christmas Day. Then he came clean."

"What do you think?"

"I think he wants out. But I also think he feels it is his responsibility — his obligation — to try counseling. I guess we'll see."

"What do you think Anita's reaction will be?" I asked.

"Honestly? At first, I think she will be shocked that Curtis doesn't think she's perfect."

I laughed hard. Deep down, I knew Judith's analysis of Anita was spot on. My sister chuckled with me. Then we broke into louder laughter.

"Think she will want to try to make it work?" I asked.

"Knowing Anita, I think she will go through with counseling to avoid the shame of divorce, if nothing else."

"I hope they can work it out."

I decided to make myself a cup of decaf tea. Much to my surprise, when it was just the two of us, Judith and I sat on the couch and talked for another hour; it felt like our college and high school days. We just reminisced. We talked about our parents. She shared things a little more in-depth about Thomas than she usually did at family gatherings. She had common fears that all parents do: peer pressure to do drugs, have sex, drinking. I said she should have a few more years before those really became prominent, but I was right there with her when I thought about Corey.

"Driving scares me the most. He is about a year away from being able to get a learner's permit."

"He's very responsible," Judith said. "I think he will have a level head with that."

"I hope. It's just easy to make a tragic mistake when you are learning."

Judith had switched to decaf for her second mug. We both took a sip as we thought about our children in private reflection.

"Corey seems to have really ... accepted ... you. Don't you think?" Judith asked.

`Meaning that I am gay or that I am a recovering alcoholic?"

"All of that!"

"Yes. I suppose. Drunk dad was awful. Once I stopped trying to bury who I was in a grave of alcoholic denial, I guess I became a person whom he could like. We have become so close these past two years. I think Natalie keeps him grounded — which he probably hates — but I think he is very open-minded thanks to me. He accepts other kinds of people. He's never really around my AA friends, but the ones at the coffee shop ... he thinks of them as regular people. Because they are."

"I guess they are. That was a pretty good mix tonight. Black, gay, alcoholic, young, old, Christian ... it was nice that everyone felt equal. You did that, Cooper. You made your son see that."

"I don't think having burgers together is that groundbreaking."

"But when kids see adults doing something so simple, it becomes simple to them too. It was a good thing."

We carried our mugs to the kitchen.

"How about Waffle House for breakfast?" I asked.

"Sounds perfect."

I hugged my sister. "Good night, Judy."

"Good night, Cooper." She kissed me on the cheek.

I turned out all the lights downstairs and headed to my bedroom.

 

—

 

I picked up Corey Friday afternoon at Natalie's house.

"Wednesday night was nice," she said. "It was good to see Judith again."

"Yeah. She enjoys opportunities to see you. The two of us had a really nice night that evening. Probably the best in years."

"Well, good. You really bared your soul for us. It's hard not to ... feel for what you've gone through. I'm so proud of you for putting alcohol behind you."

"It ruined me. Actually, that's not true. Lying ruined me. Lying to myself, to others ... to you. Alcohol was just the coverup."

Corey came out with a weekend bag. Without me even prompting, he blankly said, "Love you, Mom. See you Sunday." The hug wasn't a vice, but it was a hug. He gave me one too. Natalie and I smiled at each other.

Once we got home, Corey came down from his bedroom. We started making plans for the weekend. First rule of order was scheduling homework. He said he didn't have a lot. One essay and he had to read a chapter for one of his classes. He expected it to be about an hour's work.

"Some of my friends hate to write. It's funny, it comes easy to me."

"You always did well with spelling, writing, Language — all those classes. It probably stems from your artistic talents."

"I don't know about that."

"How's the songwriting going?"

"Good, I guess. I'm struggling with whether the music comes first and I make the lyrics fit, or if I should write all the lyrics first and then put them to music."

"I wish I could help you with that. Want to talk to Mr. Kyriazi Sunday?"

"If you think he could help."

"I do. I'll call him tonight."

 

—

 

As I was layering lasagna in the kitchen, I heard Corey's voice call out from the living room. I could see him standing in front of the mantle.

"So this is where you put your chip."

"Yeah. I kind of credit you for keeping me grounded. That sculpture means a lot to me — as do you — and that chip symbolizes the connection I feel with you."

Corey walked into the kitchen as I lifted the next lasagna noodle from the strainer to position in the dish.

"Does it mean a lot to you because it is you and me or because Mr. Larry made it?"

"Both, I suppose," I said, spooning sauce on the next layer. "I guess it is all about the connection between us two that makes it special. The fact that Laramie could see it is just ..."

"Icing on the cake?"

"Exactly!" The fact that I was preoccupied with dinner ingredients might have been a good time to have a heavy conversation. Parents find it easier to talk with their kids — or to be more precise, kids to open up to their parents — if involved in something more than a conversation. We didn't have a drive planned this evening, nor was it suitable for a walk. "Can we talk about Laramie?"

"Sure. What's up? Is he okay?"

"Yes. Fine." My fingers dangled pasta. "I've always said I would be honest, right?"

"Right," Corey returned, looking a little concerned as I glanced his way.

"I think you know I had feelings for both Laramie and Mitchell, and ... it was kind of killing me in December. I was really struggling. I was a mess."

"But you didn't take a drink," my son said, coming to my defense.

I winked at him. "You are correct. But I did come to a decision, and I think we should talk about it."

"okay," he barely said, not sure of what I might be sharing with him.

"I had strong feelings for both Mitchell and Laramie. I loved them both. But that wasn't fair for any of us." I sprinkled shredded mozzarella on the top. "None of us could move forward. I had to decide."

"How did you?"

"Not easily. Can you open the oven?" He did. I slid the lasagna in. I looked at Corey to continue the conversation. "I loved them both. But love came easy with one of them, and it was hard with the other."

"Oh."

"Mitch and I had our issues, and ... I just didn't want to deal with them day after day. I loved every minute I was with Laramie. It was very easy. It was easy to love him, and I knew he loved me the same way. Granted, I don't know him as well as Mitchell. Down the road, we might find out ..."

"That he strangles puppies in the dark and drinks their blood?" he said smiling.

"Let's hope not. Good lord!" I rolled my eyes. "But getting to know a person takes time. And I felt that. I wanted to get to know everything about him. When it was midnight on New Year's Eve, I knew it was Laramie I wanted to kiss. As much as I loved Mitchell — and in many ways still do — I saw a happier future with Laramie."

Corey didn't know what to say. We looked at each other a moment.

"So you broke up with Mitchell and now you are only seeing Mr. Larry."

"Actually, since the beginning of the year, I haven't been seeing anybody. I just needed to make sure I had things sorted out and that I felt okay with my decision. I'd like to start seeing Laramie again, but ... I want to make sure I know how you feel about it."

"Me? Why me?"

"I'd love for Mitch to still be a friend in our lives. We might see him; we might not. I don't want to start up anything with Laramie if it causes you hard feelings toward him. It is my decision, and I don't want you to blame Laramie for it."

"I won't. No. I like Mr. Larry. A lot. If he makes you happy, then ... I'm happy for you, Dad. Really." Corey got lost in a trance for a moment. His eyes were lost in the quartz countertop. I wasn't sure where he had drifted off to. "Dad, do you think we'll ever see Mitchell again?"

"He and I work in the same building. I assume I will see him from time to time. As for outside of work, I'm not sure." I looked deep into my son's eyes so that he knew I was sincere. "I hope so. He's my friend. If we can still be friends, then I'd like to do things with him. I want you and him to be able to spend time together. I know you like him. He loves you, so if that can possibly work out ... then, we'll see. It's really up to him at this point. He's hurting. He loved the three of us as a family."

"Then why did he cheat?"

"That, son, is a very good question. It kind of took all of us down the dark path. He regretted it, but the damage was done. Always keep that in mind when you start dating. Actions have consequences."

"Yeah."

"You have Mitchell's number in your phone. Give him a few weeks, but maybe next month just text him a hello or something. I'm very comfortable with you two still trying to keep a friendship going. Just understand if it is too painful for him, he may not want to."

"Okay."

"Mitchell would stay over sometimes when you spent the weekends here. If Laramie wanted to, would that be okay?"

"Sure. I guess."

"If you would prefer it be just you and me, I'm fine with that."

"No. I'm good. I know people in love like to sleep together."

Uck! I hated realizing that my son was thrust into my adult life. At least they weren't random hookups.

 

—

 

"Corey cooked dinner last night. Orange chicken."

"Chinese?" Emory asked.

"No. It was chicken with an orange marmalade glaze. I baked it in the oven," my son said.

"Got it. Your mom must love you doing some of the cooking," Emory replied.

"She lets me once a week."

"We went to the movies yesterday. Kind of scary," I said.

"It wasn't that scary," my son said with machismo.

"You jumped once," I said.

"It's because they make it so loud," Corey explained.

"There were way too many cuss words," I said.

"It was PG-13."

"It should have been R," I said authoritatively.

"I saw a woman's butt for a second," Corey whispered.

"How ghastly," Emory said.

We all laughed.

Brad topped off Corey's coffee. He only had cream in it, and he didn't attempt to add any more when the hotter liquid was added. Mine was black.

"Brad, I will have your finest cinnamon roll today. Corey is treating." With a flourish, Emory pulled the five Corey had placed in the Christmas paper and handed it to Brad. It made all of us smile.

"It is supposed to be in the upper 40s today," I said. "We are going for a walk-slash-run with Trent. Then Corey and Trent are going to work on some songwriting."

"Awesome," Emory said.

"I love my new keyboard. For the next two months, I have lessons twice a week. Some kids hate that, but I look forward to getting better."

Emory and I smiled at each other. I felt lucky to have such an incredible kid.

 

—

 

We huffed as we walked up to Mike and Trent's driveway.

"I'm glad you came with us, Mike," I said.

"You usually don't run with my dad?" Corey asked.

"When Trent and I started seeing each other, I used to run with him because he wanted to. Now I have adopted the flabby model of living."

"You are NOT flabby," Trent told his husband.

"You look great," I concurred.

"Thanks, but I really should go to the gym with Trent."

"It's still early enough in the year to make a commitment," Trent told him.

We drank sodas in the house. Trent had Dr. Pepper for Corey and me. Mike and Trent had a Diet Coke. Despite it being January, when bundled up in winter coats, a person can almost work up a sweat. Trent was in the best shape of all of us, but even he was breathing heavy at first.

Fifteen minutes later, Trent and Corey went to the piano. He had lyrics on his laptop, but he knew the notes to his song by heart. I watched him play the melody for Trent.

"Nice," I said.

Corey turned to me. "Dad, can you not watch? Please?"

"Oh." I had been sent from the room. I went to visit Mike in the living room. "I've been removed from the situation," I informed him.

He laughed. "I can't blame him. I wouldn't want my parents to hover over me either."

For a while, we could hear the two of them playing from the other room. Mike and I talked about our parents. His sounded so wonderful. They accepted him as being gay from an early age. Despite the difference between Trent's age and his, they welcomed Trent with open arms as soon as they started dating. I told him about my family. Trent had shared a little of the altercations between him and his father when he came out. It was nothing like Jakob though. Mike admitted he was very fortunate.

"I heard Trent's first play was about not getting to choose your family," I said.

"The Brutal Reality. Yeah. It was very good. I've read the next one. I love it."

"How Jakob-y is it?"

"Not a lot. It starts off like Jakob's life a bit. Getting kicked out of the house. All that. He drinks but isn't an alcoholic. Believe it or not, he's a country and western singer. So, the first half is, the second half isn't."

"Do you think Jakob will like it?"

"I'm not sure. Getting kicked out has to be ... I can't even fathom it. That will be hard. But ... it ends on an uplifting note. He knows it isn't biographical."

I turned to listen to the music. I could hear them sing, but I wasn't able to distinguish the lyrics. The song sounded more polished. I think Trent had helped.

Mike walked to the kitchen and came back with chips. "Like I said, flabby."

I laughed and grabbed a handful. "You are not flabby. You are incredibly handsome."

"Says Adonis on the couch."

I blushed.

For a few minutes, I talked about Laramie. Mike said he had been curious but didn't want to pry. I shared that I was looking forward to the two of us starting our relationship again, this time properly. Mike was a good listener. Both he and Trent had become kind friends since my tell-all at Joe last year. I knew I was fortunate to feel closer to them. It was easy to see why Lance and Jakob treasured their company.

"Hey guys, come listen," Trent said, ducking his head in.

We gathered around the piano.

"This is a song Corey wrote. It's called `El Toro.'"

"Aw. It's the roller coaster from our trip last year."

Corey started playing. Both of them sang. The harmony was beautiful.

 

"Hanging on tight
You charge through capes
A bull by the horns
In hopes to escape

The past is now gone
Grab hold of what's true
You found yourself
I'm riding right next to you

You were hurting
But the bottle is dry
You doubted yourself
But you learned how to fly

Listen to the crowd
The cheers are coming through
Hear mine right there
I'm riding right next to you

The matador has left, the bull leads the way
No more running from what is now gone
The roller coaster ride is yours and mine
And it takes us directly home

You are El Toro, and I see you stand tall

Red isn't the pain
It can also mean love
Grab a cape of your own
Love everything you dream of

See me, see us
Whenever life's blue
We are your light
I'm riding right next to you

The matador has left, the bull leads the way
No more running from what is now gone
The roller coaster ride is yours and mine
And it takes us directly home

You are El Toro, and I see you stand tall

The roller coaster ride is yours and mine
And it takes us directly home"

 

They stopped and looked at me. Mike looked at me.

"It's – it's about me. I'm ... speechless."

I leaned over to hug him. He stood, and I held him tight.

"Did you like it?"

"It's wonderful. It's amazing. I can't believe you wrote a song about me. I don't know what to say. I love you so much."

"Do NOT get mushy."

"Oh, come on! You do wonderful things like this and expect me to be blah??"

Everyone laughed.

"I kind of thought it was sophisticated for someone fourteen," Trent said.

"He's a smart kid."

"Don't be so sure," Corey interjected. "The other song I'm writing is called `I Hate Math.'"

We chuckled. "You do well in math. Why would you say that?" I asked.

"When we got back from the holidays, they introduced algebra. I like numbers!! The whole class totally hates this letter business."

Laughter filled the room.

"I guess that's what you get being in an honors class."

"Well, that song is pretty hateful. It has a rap in the middle."

"Don't ask Mr. Kyriazi to help you with that one."

Soon we had to head home. Corey was due back at Natalie's house within an hour.

 

—

 

It was the first time I saw Mitchell at work in two weeks. We were in a meeting that morning. The two of us were among thirty others in the room. I would occasionally look over at him. Once he saw me; then I realized he was looking at me too.

My focus was off during the meeting. It was fortunate for me that I was only lightly involved in this new contract. The meeting was more of an outlook on the new fiscal year more than anything else. Our company was in exceptional shape.

I left the room first, but I dawdled near the door just so the two of us could speak. He saw me waiting, and I could tell from his expression he didn't want to talk.

"Hi," I simply said.

"Cooper, I really don't..."

"How have you been?"

"Fair," he said emotionlessly.

"Mitch ... I do want you to be okay. I want you to be ... happy."

"I'm not there. Sorry."

"I understand. It probably doesn't help to say this, but ... I do miss you. Maybe one day ... okay?"

I started to walk away.

"Cooper!" His call caused me to turn. "Congratulations on your two-year chip."

I nodded and walked toward the elevator. A few of our coworkers concealed glances our direction. The workplace knew. No one had to say anything. It was obvious. Word had most likely spread among our closer associates.

 

—

 

"I'm glad you called," I said.

"I'm just checking on you," Laramie said.

"I'm good. Corey and I talked some this past weekend. I'm in a good place, and I believe he is there with me."

"Do you think he can be there with me?" he asked.

"Yes. I ... know he is. We talked. He likes you."

"But he loved Mitchell."

"He did. But he wants me to be happy more than anything."

"Sweet kid."

"He is a much better son than I deserve."

"Bullshit. You're a great dad."

"Can we do dinner later this week?"

"Your place or mine?"

"How about we go out?" I suggested.

"Oh." Laramie went silent. "I see. Just dinner."

"I thought we could talk through some things. Is that okay?"

"I think. Cooper, do you still love me?"

"Completely."

"Then that's all I need to know."

 

—

 

I felt silly and nervous and happy and excited all Thursday afternoon. I finally closed my door and found Ben Rector's "Brand New" online. I played it through my desktop and danced for a few minutes in my office. I felt more relaxed.

I changed out of my suit into something more casual. I pulled on my favorite jeans. I thought they flattered my legs well; they were just tight enough. A long sleeve T-shirt felt good. I was glad I wasn't dressy. We agreed to meet at Basil and Chianti at 7 o'clock. I was early. Ironically, so was he. We hugged inside the restaurant.

"It's really nice to see you," he softly said before we let go. Then we let the hostess know it was just us two.

"Can I offer you two gentleman a drink?" our server asked. "A glass of wine, something from the bar?"

"I'll have iced tea, please," Laramie immediately said. I nodded the same.

We looked over our choices. I opted for a dish called Tuscan Chicken that had sundried tomatoes, mushrooms and wilted spinach. Laramie had a steak with habanero peppers in a cream sauce on top. I raised an eyebrow at his selection. After our server left, he pointedly told me that since we weren't spending the night, he would be adventurous.

"Is it okay if we just ... talk and enjoy each other's company tonight?" I asked.

"Of course. I love our evenings together. I hope you know I fell in love with you long before we had sex."

"Me too. I probably wouldn't have gone to bed with you if I hadn't felt something."

"That sounds like you."

"Am I a prude?"

"You've swallowed my cum. Not really." I looked around. No one could hear us, thank heavens. "I love your moral standards. I love your gentlemanly character." I looked into his eyes and got lost. "Cooper, I love everything about you."

"I feel the same. Every minute we spend together is wonderful."

"Oh, give me time. I'm bound to mess something up," Laramie said in a self-deprecating manner.

"Well, I'm ready to take this ... us ... our relationship further. I want to see where it goes."

"And where do you see it going?" he asked.

"I love you; you love me. For now, that alone is glorious enough."

"You've seen the real me," Laramie said. "You know a relationship with me is going to have some rough spots."

"Like I don't?" I watched him take my hand in response. "Divorced. Kid. Alcoholic. Recent broken relationship."

"Fine, very fine, doesn't bother me, and I feel like the broken one," he replied.

"All I ask is that ... if we enter this, the two of us being a couple ... that we are exclusive. You can see my mind doesn't process cheating well. I tried to make it work with Mitchell, and it kept driving me away. Before we start, I need you to understand that. One hundred percent. If we're going to be right for each other, I feel we should establish that upfront."

"I'm in full agreement. You are the greatest thing to happen to me in years. I'm madly in love with you. I feel I don't deserve you, but since you gave me the chance, all I ever hope to do is make you happy."

"Look at us. We're almost saying wedding vows, and this is just our first dinner this year."

"I'm not the wedding type. Probably. I know your friends are married. I'm not sure where I land on that chart."

"With one divorce under my belt, I'm not sure I need to go down that road either."

Such thoughts were for the future regardless. As our salads arrived, I smiled to myself that I pictured us in tuxedos for a moment. I reflected on Lance and Jakob's wedding. It was simple but lovely. Laramie would be a handsome husband.

"Did you and Mitchell ever talk ... marriage?"

"Not really. But let's not discuss him."

"Fair enough."

I poured olive oil onto a saucer and drizzled some balsamic vinegar on top. I took a first piece of bread and dredged it in the gastronomic solution.

"It was nice meeting your ex last week."

"You mean Natalie?" I said.

"Yes. Ex-WIFE. Yes. She's pretty. It's no wonder Corey is such a good-looking kid."

"I thought she did well last week. Surrounded by gay men and alcoholics ... sort of intimidating for Ms. Perfect Baptist."

"I've never heard you say anything negative about her!"

"I didn't really mean that as negative. It's just who Nat is. I mean, I'll love her for who she is. I'm fine with her being a woman of faith. Still, part of me wants her and Daryl to rip each other's clothes off."

Laramie howled. "Why??"

"I think she's tightly wound sometimes. But ... that's not her. She lives by the scriptures, so fornication isn't in her wheelhouse."

"Think Daryl is asking?"

"I don't know. He's pretty spiritual too."

"Surely they've done it."

I strangely pictured Daryl screwing my ex-wife. I imagined both of them screaming in the throes of passion. It didn't bother me to picture her in bed with another man. Yes, I wished they would fuck.

Our server topped off my iced tea. I thanked her.

"If tonight is just dinner, do we ... the two of us ..." Laramie started.

"Have sex soon?"

He laughed out loud again. He almost choked and put his napkin over his mouth.

"Would you like to stay over this weekend at my place?" I offered.

"Friday or Saturday night?"

"I'm open to both." Laramie smiled at my answer. "I'm kind of hard just thinking about my ex-wife having sex with another man. I can't wait to have you in my arms."

"Funny. I started getting hard from the second you invited me over. Sounds like we will both enjoy tomorrow night."

As we finished our salads, I told him about the song Corey had written. He also found it very touching. Since we were becoming a couple, I asked him if he had a preference of what to be called by my son. Laramie was fine with anything: Mr. Larry, Larry or Laramie. He offered several compliments on my son. I really was proud of him.

Our entrees arrived. Laramie asked for a couple of bread plates. Our served obliged. My boyfriend then cut a portion of his steak and placed it on the saucer. He asked me to do the same. Sharing our meals sent a warmth through me I wasn't expecting. It was just food. It was only food. But ... maybe I felt he was sharing his whole life with me. I knew I was in love with him, but now I realized I had so much more room for this love to grow.

"Yum! This steak is wonderful," I said.

"I agree. I'm glad I ordered it."

"It's not as spicy as I expected."

"Habanero peppers aren't that bad. Your dish is excellent as well."

As Laramie sliced his steak into bites, he continued to tell me about his work following the holidays and how the load had shifted. Mitchell and I worked in the same building, so we didn't always have a lot to share when we were a couple. This was nice. Clearly, it wouldn't change dramatically from day to day. I just liked listening to Laramie talk; his voice comforted me. Not since Mitchell and I began flirting almost three years ago had I been swept up in one person's presence. As hard as my decision was, I knew I loved Laramie. I was elated to spend time with him again.

Judith and Natalie became a topic. As he had met them both last week, he let me talk about my feelings toward them. It was encouraging to be able to talk about my sister in a more positive manner than in the past few years.

"She saw us kiss."

"Oops. Is it a problem?"

"No. I was upfront about the decisions I had to make, and — even though difficult — the reasons why I did what I did." I looked into his eyes. "She understood why I chose you."

"She didn't think Mitch was better looking?"

"Pfff! I don't think she ever cared for Mitchell. I'm sure in her mind, she convinced herself that he turned me gay. I believe she realizes ... now ... that wasn't the case. From a standpoint of questions of faith, she understands me enough that she knows I didn't just `choose.' I think for her to get there is a breakthrough."

"I wish my family could be that way."

"Can they really be worse than mine?"

"C'mon, Cooper. Your family was really nice at Christmas."

"Because it wasn't clear you were gay."

"At least your family has a religious upbringing. They at least have a reason to hate you." His eyes darted to mine in a panic. "I'm sorry! They don't hate you. I didn't mean that. I meant ..."

"I get it. Go on."

"Mom went to church on Sundays, but Dad didn't. He just didn't want a gay son. It was quite clear that he was disgusted with who I was. Everything changed."

Laramie looked inward for a moment. His silence threw me. In some ways, we shared similar family dynamics, but I felt his were harder to accept.

"Maybe I will meet them one day."

He snapped out of his mesmerized trance. "Huh??"

"Maybe we can go visit them one day. You don't have to do it alone. I can be with you."

Laramie was dumbstruck.

"That's a horrible idea. I would never want to subject you to their ... bile. They are very cold people."

"Do you think they want to see you miserable?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"Perhaps if they actually saw you happy — in love — they might warm up to everything."

"You don't know them."

"Maybe I will one day."

"I hate them."

"No you don't. They're your parents. It's your family."

Laramie threw his body weight into the back of his chair. He let out a huff. The expression on his face turned sour. I felt bad for steering the conversation down this road. His hands covered his face and then moved up to where the fingers combed through his hair. For a split second, Laramie looked like he was going to explode. His gaze returned to me, and it all went away. I saw him slowly exhale.

"I told you so," he softly said. "It didn't take long for me to ruin this evening."

I reached for his hand. I held it a moment. Then I moved to hold his finger. He smiled.

"Far from it."

"I hope you didn't make a mistake, Cooper."

"In terms of...?"

"Choosing me," he answered.

"What? Just because you have family issues? Is there anyone out there who doesn't?" My mind quickly reflected on Mike and Lance for being in really good family situations. But nothing could be perfect. "I love you. If I can make anything easier for you, of course I will want to do that."

He just stared at me. His eyes melted into mine. A smile crossed his face. "You are so easy to love, Cooper Snow."

He grabbed my hands and leaned toward me. I leaned forward as well. We kissed over the table. It was a bit clumsy, but it continued. Our lips pulled apart for a mere second before we sealed them again into a longer kiss.

"You guys are so hot," our server said, standing there with a pitcher of tea. We turned to her and smiled. As she topped off our glasses, she added, "I hope that's okay for me to say."

"It was a compliment," I said.

"How is everything? Did your meals come out okay?"

"Delicious," we both said.

"Good," she said. She asked if we needed anything, and we told her we were fine. "Super hot," she said as she turned to walk to one of her other tables. Laramie turned back to me and gave me a wink.

"Not to dwell on it, but ... do you talk to your parents at all?" I asked.

"Mother's Day, Father's Day and their birthdays. Phone calls last about one minute."

"Not Christmas or anything?"

"I send a card," he said flatly. "And yeah, I call. I actually told them about you a few weeks ago."

"Really?"

"They were their normal selves. They didn't ask much."

"Maybe time will help heal those wounds. At least I know I'll be at your side."

"Now you sound like were married again," he chuckled. "I thought your whole mindset was to take things slow."

"At the `appropriate pace' is more accurate. But I want you to know that loving you is very easy. It came in baby steps. And then all of a sudden, I was in love with you."

"And Mitch," he said mischievously, knowing he was the victor.

"Ugh! Now it's me who should be asking if you didn't make the mistake."

"If so, it's the best mistake I ever made."

"You know, tonight was the first night I ever kissed anyone in a restaurant," I said.

"First man, you mean."

"No, Natalie and I didn't share a lot of affection in public. Never in a restaurant. Plus, having a kid in tow ... children suck the romance out of everything."

Once again, Laramie howled with laughter. I perhaps hadn't realized it before but being able to make someone laugh made me feel good. Everything about him made me like myself.

"So, had you?"

"Yes. Once I got to Jackson Bend, I intended to be my true self. I was in my 20s, and I would go out with my first boyfriend. We only lasted a few months, but we were pretty affectionate in the beginning."

"A story for you to tell me one day."

"One day." Laramie paused. "But you're wrong."

"Huh?"

"We kissed at Jalisco in November."

"Did we?" It was odd that I didn't really recall that. Everything with Laramie was so natural.

"Yep. Granted, it was a simple peck on the lips. Just here, now that was a kiss."

I chuckled. "Maybe a bit too much for public."

"It's not like we threw the dishes on the floor and made love on the table."

Laramie made me laugh again. "Want to hear something silly? I was nervous — well, and excited — before coming tonight. I locked my door at work and danced to `Brand New' to calm me down."

Laramie smiled at me. "Want to hear something even sillier? I have my own song for us."

"What?!"

"It's called `On My Way' by Jennifer Lopez." I shook my head noting I was unfamiliar with it. "It was from her movie Marry Me."

"I didn't see it."

"I'll confess I have a soft spot for romcoms. Brace yourself," he said with a chuckle. "The song is about two people finding their way back to each other. And ... well, maybe that's us."

His eyes positively sparkled telling me that. How could I not love him?

I tipped our server nicely. I would try to remember her name, Kathryn, for the next time when we dined here. It was with a K, like Jakob. Maybe that would help me remember. Laramie grumbled that I had solely taken care of the check, but I told him that I was the one who invited him.

We stood at his car for a few minutes. The parking lot was fairly empty; no other patrons seemed to be near us. I leaned in to kiss him, pressing his body against his car door. The feel of his arms around me was paradise.

"I've really missed you these past few weeks," he whispered into my ear.

"Me too," I panted into my next kiss. It was strong; it was deep. "I can't wait to make love to you tomorrow."

Laramie reached for my hand and pressed it against his hard erection within his jeans. It prompted me to do the same.

"I want that dick to fuck me tomorrow," I said.

"Why, Cooper Snow, such vulgar talk."

"Which you love when it's right." I went in for one final kiss. "If I didn't have an early international phone call meeting in the morning, I would almost take you in your car right now."

We laughed for a minute. Finally I admitted I needed to go.

Not only were my feet not touching the ground, but my car also felt like it hovered above the pavement. Nothing lasts forever, but I wanted to cling to this feeling of being in love again for as long as I could.

As much as the house felt good as I sorted things out these past weeks, it oddly felt lonely as I pulled the sheet up. I was in my boxers, but my erection had hardly waned since getting home. I thought about Laramie all night. I fondled my anatomy through the cotton briefly. I would save any pleasure until tomorrow.

I grabbed my phone.

"Found the song you were talking about. I like it."

He texted back a thumbs up.

"I'm not sure if I said I love you tonight. Did I?" I followed.

"About six times."

"Is that it? I'm so sorry." Then I added a wink.

He didn't reply. Perhaps I was being too sentimental. Corey always accused me of being too "mushy." Was I pushing too strong? Then, a text came in. It was a picture. It was his bare torso with cum all over it.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you. This happened just a few seconds before you texted."

I snorted when I read that. I sent a final text. "Tomorrow seems years away. I love you."

 

—

 

I managed to stay somewhat focused on the call. As the day went on, I thought more and more on the upcoming weekend with Laramie. We were an official couple. I wanted it to go right. I listened to "our song" multiple times during the afternoon.

I raced home to make sure the house looked good. The bathroom was spotless; any clutter had been put away. The bedroom was prepared with candles, convenient lube, towels and freshly laundered sheets. While the linens tumbled in the dryer, I started on dinner.

I didn't expect Laramie until 7, so I had ingredients prepared and started the soup. Dinner would be simple. I wasn't trying to be impressive. I wanted "us" to be comfortable. We had moved past the stage where we didn't need to be pretentious. We loved who each of us was.

At a quarter `til 7, I put on some music through the house's sound system. I couldn't decide on the right playlist, so I just put on Pandora playing `90s country, Laramie's favorite. I felt ready.

It was 7 o'clock. Where was he?

It was 7:01. Where was he?

It was 7:02. Where was he?

The doorbell rang at 7:03. Thank God!

I pulled him into the foyer, slammed the door and planted a kiss on him. The man had barely been here for 30 seconds, and I was smothering him in affection. We kissed for a minute before he said, "Uh, my bag is still on the porch." I laughed and opened the door to retrieve it.

"Dinner smells great," he said, carrying the bag to the bedroom.

"Thanks. I make a killer tortilla soup. It seemed appropriate for the weather."

When he entered the kitchen, I saw him look at the table settings. It looked nice, but not over the top. I already had iced tea in glasses.

Laramie came up behind me as I assembled salad ingredients. His arms around me shifted my focus from the salad's presentation to the masculine limbs that somehow made my body both melt and feel electricity inexplicably at the same time. He kissed the back of my neck.

"I thought about you all day," he said.

"I thought about us, too."

"Thanks for making dinner."

"It's simple, but I think you'll like it."

The salad had dried cranberries, bleu cheese, candied pecans and cherry tomatoes on mixed greens. As we enjoyed the soup, we crumbled tortilla chips throughout the bowl.

"This soup is awesome," he told me, staring into its amber depths. "You made this from scratch?"

"Yes. Well, I use cans of chicken broth, but everything else. It's really a matter of cutting up veggies and sauteing the chicken."

"It's nice and spicy. With my track record, I'm surprised you went down that road."

I laughed. "There's only one jalapeno in the whole pot. It was a nice-sized one. Diced up." Then I thought more. "And chili powder. And hot sauce. Yeah, maybe not my smartest move."

"I think my stomach will behave," he smiled.

Once we were done, Laramie helped me clean up things in the kitchen. It wasn't a lot but having the two of us do it together almost made it enjoyable. I found him naturally kind.

I asked if he would be willing to watch the movie he had told me about. He warned me Marry Me was silly, but if you just went with the premise, it was enjoyable. As we sat on the couch, we purposefully sat close. Shoes off, our legs overlapped on the coffee table. >From time to time we would hold hands, sometimes our fingers would just linger being adjacent or draped over the other's leg. It was romantic in its simplicity.

Seventy minutes into it, he paused the movie for me to fetch some ice cream. The carton only had about a third of its contents remaining. I felt it was enough for the two of us, but I opted not to get bowls. With two spoons, we handed the carton back and forth on the couch. I wasn't sure if he found the gesture silly or odd or cute. Once it was empty, he hopped up and carried the carton to the trash can. I could hear him place the spoons in the dishwasher. I glanced at him looking for a hand towel to dry his hands following rinsing them. He eventually found it hanging from the refrigerator door handle.

Laramie grabbed a pillow from the loveseat when he returned. Placing it on my crotch, he reclined on the couch with his head resting on my lap. When "our" song played, he reached for my hand. We spent the last fifteen minutes of the film with me gently caressing his chest with my touch or running my fingers randomly through his short hair.

I loved him.

The movie's ending was predictable from the beginning. However, that didn't stop me from embracing it. Frivolous as it was, I adored the romance of it all.

I began turning out lights. Laramie caught on that he should adjourn to the bedroom. I left the stove light on just in case Laramie needed to come to the kitchen in the middle of the night. When I entered the bedroom, I saw his jeans on the floor. I found him brushing his teeth in his shirt and boxers. I walked up behind and clutched his ass cheeks. "Hey," he sputtered with a mouthful of foam. I took my final pee for the night and then began brushing my teeth as well. Before leaving the bathroom, I tossed all my clothes in the hampers I had in the master closet. I turned out the light and walked back into the bedroom completely naked. One lamp was on; Laramie was stretched on the bed in just his boxers.

"I like what I see," he said, flattering me. I wasn't even hard, so I knew my penis wasn't impressive.

I moved onto the bed with him. We kissed. He put his hand on the back of my head and pressed our mouths into a stronger seal. Our tongues stroked in swordplay. My hand moved down to feel the front of his boxers. His cock was a spear. He hummed as my fingers danced over the strained fabric.

"If I can be honest, I'm sort of nervous," I said.

"Really? Why? We've made love before."

"I ... I want you inside me tonight."

"You do? I thought you didn't like being a bottom."

"It's not my favorite. On those rare occasions, it was ... special. Tonight, I want it to be special. I want you to know I am all in. I'm giving everything of myself to you."

"Wow. I don't know what to say."

"Then let me say it." I moved my mouth close to his ear to whisper. "Fuck me, Laramie. I want your cock inside me."

"Cooper Snow, you filthy man," he said, lunging in for another kiss. He groped my cock as he did so and felt it stretching into its hardened state. "You know I love it when you talk racy during sex."

I maneuvered to pull his boxers off his body. Tossing them to his discarded clothing, my mouth plunged toward his erection. It was mine for several minutes. I continued to slurp on his stiff flesh when I heard the lid of the bottle of lube pop open. His fingers graced over my butt. He teased the fine hair on my ass. His middle finger traced the length of my crack. I hadn't ceased sucking on his cock. I heard the bottle squirt liquid. A slick finger returned to my ass. I felt it slowly wriggle into the tight aperture guarding my hole. I inhaled deeply through my nostrils as I continued to taste his phallus. His finger gyrated and pulsed and roamed. A second finger entered.

"Oh," I gasped, as I leaned upright.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Move it around some more."

I stretched the towel on the bed and placed my body down onto it, my face buried into my pillow. His two fingers returned to explore within me. They penetrated me for a minute helping to prepare the portal I knew he would soon assault. It was soothing. He skillfully worked my hole.

"Do me, Laramie."

The sound of the lid popping open again announced his dick was being coated in a lubricated shine. The mattress conveyed the movement of his body positioning itself behind me. His hand and stiff arm became visible beside me. The head of his cock entered my hole. I inhaled. He pushed in further and my body lurched. It hurt. I was reminded why I wasn't a fan of bottoming, but I wanted to do it for him.

"Relax for me, babe."

I breathed in and out. My ass muscles pushed against his erection and then relaxed. I exhaled.

"That's it, baby," he softly said. Slowly, I felt more of his dick forge inside me.

"Oh. Oh yeah," I moaned.

He pushed all the way in. "Ohhh, Cooper. Fuck yes." He pulled out and pushed back in.

"Yeah. Oh, Laramie. Yeah. It feels good."

He developed a modest rhythm he liked. I was pleased that I was now comfortable. It felt pleasurable for me too — both of us. I felt his body collapse onto mine. His chest merged to my back. His mouth was at my ear.

"I'm glad you let me do this. It feels really good, Coop."

"You feel good inside me too."

"I'm glad. I like fucking you." His cock churned inside me. "I love fucking you." His cock pushed harder.

"Fuck me, baby" I responded, as I felt him breathe into my ear. He was panting. I lifted my head. We strained for a contorted kiss as he continued to shove his flesh into me.

From there, all talk stopped. It became groaning and grunting and moaning and growling. Within the sexual volume was an occasional cry of each other's name. His hands moved below my chest. He gripped my pecs. His mouth opened on my neck and tasted the inception of my perspiration. We were hot. We were loud. We were men in the frenzy of male sexual connection. He worked me over for a few minutes. He wasn't powerful or forceful, but neither was he gentle. It was loving.

"More," I whispered.

His waist pounded my ass harder. "Oh, God. Cooper. Yeah. Ohhh. Yes. Yes."

"Fuck me, Laramie. Shove that cock into me."

He lifted up on stiff arms and relentlessly assaulted my hole with his javelin. I screamed in my pleasure. His groan matched mine.

"Cooper. Oh, Cooper. I'm getting close."

"Stop! Pull out."

I startled him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I don't want it to end." I flipped over. "Suck my cock a minute."

He did. He brought it to its full hardness again. I just wanted his dick to recuperate a moment so that we could fuck some more. His mouth on my organ was Valhalla. It felt so good. His tongue toyed with my stiff flesh, and it was sexual utopia. I hated to direct him to release my member, but I wanted him to take me again.

"Here. Lay down," I said, moving out of the way. He obliged.

I reached for the lube and made his solid steel glisten once again. Closing the lid, I placed the bottle on the nightstand and straddled his body. I stretched my cheeks and lowered onto his monument jutting below me. He held his spire, and my ass imprisoned it in my descent. We both growled as he moved up inside me. Gyrating my hips, his cock writhed within me. It was transcendental for both of us.

"Fuck, yeah," he called out.

The two of us rocked and thrust and pushed and crashed and bounced and pounded. We pleasured ourselves in constant motion — all in the loudest volume this house had witnessed. As I rode his pole, he grasped my dick and started stroking me. I leaned back and craned my neck toward the ceiling.

"Laramie. Laramie! Ohhh, FUCK!"

"Yeah, babe." He began grunting. He worked my erection harder. I moaned, and then realized he wanted us to come together.

I took my cock from him and fiercely jerked on my red flesh. My groans were screams.

"I'm close, Coop."

I yanked my rigid flesh and cried out, "Fuck me. Fuck me. Come inside me, baby. Fuck me, Laramie."

He jackhammered my ass. We didn't come together. He came first.

"OOOH FUCK!" he yelled, as his crotch crashed into my hole. I rode him like a bucking bronco. His body reverberated with each blast of cum that was sent deep within me. "Cooper. Cooper. Fuck yeah." He yelled one last scream.

Then he was still. My arm continued stroking my erection like a powerhouse. We hadn't climaxed together, but I wasn't far off.

"Come on me, Coop. Come for me."

I arched back on one arm and attacked my cock. My moans escalated into a crescendo announcing my orgasm.

"I'm there, honey. I'm there. Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. YES!"

I sat up to watch. My dick pulsed stream after stream on his chin and neck and nipple and chest. I groaned through my entire climax. It was extreme.

I let go of my penis and placed my hands on his chest. I looked down on him. He looked up at me. We smiled.

"I want to kiss you, but if I move, your dick will leave me, and I want to feel it in me as long as I can."

He smiled bigger and pulled me to him. His penis escaped my entrapment. As we kissed, we smeared much of my cum on our chests. Our tongues battled, occasionally with tastes of my climax from his lip. Then I collapsed at his side.

"Man oh man," I gasped. "That was hot."

"Fucking hot."

We rolled into each other and kissed some more. Once again, coming up for breath, we smiled with our noses touching. We softly laughed.

"We're a total mess," I chuckled.

"Isn't it magnificent?" he grinned.

After one more kiss, I got up to get a warm washcloth. Our bodies needed a lot of work. So did parts of the bed, as I commented that the towel could only protect so much. Once that endeavor was completed, we moved into each other's arms. The lamplight still allowed us to see other. Laramie had a huge smile on his face.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"You called me `honey.'"

"Uh oh. Is that bad? Do you not like that?"

"No man has ever called me that. I found it adorable."

"Oh. Well, ... good."

"You were kind of an animal, Coop."

"You said you like it when I cuss during sex."

"You were off the charts, babe. It was amazing. But ... being in your arms is even more wonderful." We stared at each other and went in for another kiss.

"I love you," we both said in unison.

I reached over to turn out the lamp. The room was dark, and I maneuvered into his arms for the night. His dick was pressed into my hip. His arm was across my chest. I moved my hand to hold his finger.

 

—

 

The emergence of sunlight filtered into the room. I became aware that it was morning. My hand was cupped on Laramie's ass cheek. I removed it and wrapped it around his body to where my fingers gently walked through his chest hair.

He stirred. "Mornin'," he mumbled as if in a foreign dialect.

I squeezed him tighter to me. We lay in silence for an elongated minute. I became cognizant of the warmth of his skin. I breathed in the almost-undetectable scent of his neck into my nostrils, but I wanted to memorize it. The stillness was almost perfection redefined.

My hand roamed downward to find his genitals. I wasn't sure if it was because of my morning embrace or simply morning wood, but his erection was at full attention. Gently, my fingers traced its contour. My thumb and forefinger rubbed loving circles into its stretched skin.

Laramie rolled toward me. "Mm. Don't get too many ideas. I have to pee." With a peck on my lips, he then strolled into the darkness of the bathroom. He didn't turn on any lights. I hoped the ambient light of the bedroom provided enough illumination for his aim to be accurate. It was silent a moment. If I had to make an assumption, he was letting his erection go down. Eventually I could hear his stream hit the bowl.

I moved my body from the bed to pull some pajama bottoms from the dresser.

The toilet flushed. I could hear him wash and dry his hands. When he returned to the bedroom, he saw me standing.

"Oh. We're getting dressed," he said blankly.

I crawled back into bed but left the pajamas on. My arms reached for him to rejoin me. He crawled into them naked. We held each other.

"You know, I don't think I own any pajamas," he said in lost reflection. "Maybe an old pair in a drawer. Somewhere. Mmmm, but ... nope. Can't think of it."

"I love getting to find out all these things about you," I said, kissing his forehead.

"Yeah. Riveting."

"When's your birthday? I'll find you an attractive pair."

"Not until March 14. A couple of months. I'm not sure if I'm a pajamas kind of guy though."

"If Corey is here, you will be."

"Ah. Didn't think of that."

Laramie rubbed the cotton against my leg, getting a sense of the feel of them. His hand moved to fondle my crotch. It caused my dick to rise. My hand petted his arm. After a pregnant silence, his hand slipped inside the waistband to grope me. I felt his steel jab my leg.

"How's your butt?" he asked.

"In agony," I answered in frank honesty.

He bolted upright, ripping his hand from my pajamas. "Really??" he said sorrowfully.

"Yeah. It really hurts."

He squeezed me tight. "Ohhh, babe. I'm sorry."

"I'll live. It was my decision. Besides, it lets me know we meant serious business."

Laramie laughed out loud. Then he leaned into me and kissed my neck. "My poor baby."

"I'm sure I will cope by tonight."

Laramie's grip returned to my bulge. "Tonight? Someone seems up and around right now."

Quickly he pulled my pajamas down and swallowed my cock whole. I jolted because it was unexpected, not because it was ticklish. I moaned as he slurped on my hard meat. After a couple of minutes, his tongue moved up to my navel up to a nipple up to my neck until it entered my mouth in a deep kiss.

"Shall I go on? Want me to make you come?"

I wrapped my arms tightly around him. "Actually, I'm good. You're very sweet though. I can wait until tonight." Truth be told, I didn't want sex to consume the start of our relationship. I wanted it to be about Laramie and me, not our genitalia. I then felt the crowbar jutting from his groin. "Oh. Is that okay? Want me to bring you off?"

He sighed. "I'm good. But it is okay if you hold it a while?"

I did. As we rested, my hand kept a gentle grip around his erection. Mine was still exposed with my pajamas pulled below my balls. The day had no agenda, so just being in each other's bare presence felt like a luxury. I lightly gripped his hard-on.

His head turned toward me. "You have Corey next week, so I guess I'll have to skip every other weekend, right?"

"Maybe, but not necessarily." I sat up and pulled my pajamas back over my crotch, although my penis didn't want to cooperate at first. I looked down at the naked man in my bed and sifted my fingers through his hair. "Corey likes you. I don't mind you being here. We've talked. He understands. How about I ask if he would prefer it to be just dad-and-son weekends or if he'd like you here. He's my top priority..."

"Right."

"... so I feel I should follow his lead."

"I understand. Are there ground rules when he's here and I'm here?"

"Well, first, no nudity."

Laramie howled. I had learned to love his laugh. "Thus pajamas."

"I have something I'm sure you can wear. Until your birthday," I teased.

"I assume sex is not in the cards those weekends."

"Would you want to stay over even if we didn't?"

"I'd still want to be here. I love you, Cooper. Not just sex with you. I've probably given you the wrong impression being all horny this morning."

"Rule 2: No loud sex. He's upstairs. Surely, we can manage. But nothing like last night."

"Sounds fair."

"Finally, no cussing in front of my son."

"I get it."

"In front of me I can handle, but I ask that you try not to use `God' and `Jesus.' Is that too much to ask?"

Laramie looked at me. He didn't say anything. "It's all part of who you are. Which. I. Love."

I kissed him and then said, "I'll start coffee."

We agreed a bowl of cereal would be fine. Laramie managed to put on his underwear to walk around the house.

"Oh!" I called out, staring at the glass doors overlooking the back porch. Laramie turned to see a huge snowfall begin. I sighed. "I'm kind of done with winter."

"Have you lit a fire in your home yet?"

"Actually, no."

"Want to go out before the roads get too heavy? We can pick up some firewood."

"Sounds cozy."

We had a small bundle of wood in my trunk and ducked into a Chinese place for lunch nearby. As we ate, I talked about how Natalie and I would take Corey sledding when he was younger.

"We should do it," he said.

"It's supposed to be in the 40s next weekend."

"What about today?"

"Natalie has him this weekend."

"Can we all not go?"

I was dumbstruck by the simplicity of his suggestion. "I..." I pondered his question further. "I ... don't see why not. Of course, they may have plans."

"Want to?"

After further consideration, I agreed that I did. I pulled out my phone to dial.

"Hi, Cooper," Natalie answered. "What's up?"

"The morning snowfall is really beautiful."

"Yeah, I suppose. Yes. It is. It just sort of changed our plans for today. I'm not wild about getting out there and driving on it."

"We were talking and..."

"We?"

"Ah. Laramie and me. You remember. Laramie. Christmas. Corey being worried about him."

"Right. We've met."

"I was telling him about how you and I took Corey sledding when he was younger and ... we wondered if you might want to do that this afternoon."

"Ugh. Cooper, we're older now."

"Oh, please! What ... four ... five years? We had fun."

"Yes, we did."

"Is Daryl there? He can come too."

"He's not, but he is coming over for dinner." She went silent a moment. "Are you wanting me to ask Corey?"

"It's your weekend, Nat. Whatever you feel. I don't want to interrupt anything."

"Mother Nature already took care of that. When?"

"Anytime this afternoon. I think the snow is going to be done by 2, but there are already a few inches on the ground."

"Let me get back to you."

 

—

 

Laramie's SUV pulled into Natalie's driveway at 1:30. The snow had lightened, but it was still falling. Corey opened the door for us. I noticed Daryl's car next to Natalie's, so I assumed he was joining us.

Everyone had met at some point, if at nothing else my recent AA meeting. Our group was all smiles. Corey seemed quite up for the idea. I'm not sure if it was more about the sledding or having fun with adults and his parents being together.

We had a two-person plastic Slippery Racer sled and something more traditional with rails. We put both in the back of Laramie's SUV. Natalie said she had made three thermoses of hot chocolate. I was perplexed why she would even own three, but some were probably pretty old. We threw a blanket in the back too.

It was about a fifteen minute drive to the backwoods area that we used to take advantage of. We weren't alone. There was a small parking lot near the trail and there were four other cars there. The snow may have been four inches deep, but the snowfall was winding down. Random flakes fluttered before us, but it was barely enough to be considered light.

Taking turns, everyone trudged up the hill except Natalie. Corey came down each time. Sometimes it was solo, sometimes it was with a grownup behind him on the two-person Slippery Racer. The ten-minute walk up the hill was cold, and our feet eventually felt the wet chill. Natalie stayed under the blanket and guarded the hot chocolate, but she was all smiles each time we came down. Someone was there during every race to keep her company. Laramie asked to ride with Corey, and Daryl felt compelled to give the traditional sled a go. As I sat alone with Natalie, I sipped on my thermos. I felt I should update her on my love life.

"Just so you know, Laramie and I are ... now involved. He and I ... we're a couple. We're very in love."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Well, I can see it on your faces. But ... Corey told me."

"He did?"

"Well, not so much as `breaking news,' but he made mention of it over dinner recently."

"Can you tell how he feels about it? I mean, we talked about it, but ... did he say anything?"

"Nothing ... bad. He's quite taken with this Larry. But he liked Mitch too. He just wants you to be happy."

"He's a great kid."

"So ... Mitch. I thought you guys were trying to make it work. Want to talk about it?"

I sighed. "We tried. We loved each other, but ... that wasn't enough. I feel he was trying to be the perfect partner, but ... my defenses wouldn't let me buy all in. I had walls. Deep down I was afraid he would cheat again — one day. I couldn't live like that. Mitch deserved better than what I could give him."

"Wow. So how did you and Laramie ..."

"I was attracted to him for a couple of months. I tried to put it out of my mind, but there is no denying there was an attraction there. He had been in love with me from just us being friends. For me it was just ... baby steps. Last month ... I was in hell. I was in love with both of them. I had to make a decision." I gave a big exhale. "And I did."

"Rough."

"Yeah. I gave myself some space to make sure I was doing it right."

"And did you?"

I took my eyes off our ascending tobogganers. I looked Natalie in the eyes. "I did. I love Laramie. Huge. Everything with him is so natural and so simple and so ... right. We're still in the early stages, I guess, but ... he's everything I could ever want, and I think he feels the same. Wish us luck."

"I'm glad you're happy, Cooper."

We stood as our trio waved from the top. Both of us took our phones out to take yet more pictures. We laughed as they all screamed coming down. Seeing Laramie's arms around Corey made my heart soar. The fact that they bond made me incredibly pleased. Daryl seemed to be flying on the traditional sled. His screams suddenly turned to words: "How do I stop!!?"

"Drag your feet!" I screamed.

He sailed past us but was slowing his rocket launch as he did so. Laramie and Corey were crashing near us. They laughed hard as they were sprawled in the white powder.

Daryl walked up with sled in tow. "The plastic one is the one for me."

Corey and Daryl took the plastic sled the next round. I opted to give the traditional one a go. As we trudged upward, I thanked Daryl for joining us.

"I've had fun," he said. "I actually think this is a good experience for Corey and me. You get to be Cool Dad. I simply get to be `Daryl.' Hopefully he will see me as more fun now."

I put my hand on his shoulder.

From the top we waved. Natalie and Laramie waved back at the bottom. I could see cameras out. I pushed the two of them off to give them extra speed. I jumped on the sled and took off behind them. My feet were in the air. My dick and balls were already freezing. It wasn't the most comfortable experience. But I was flying. I aimed for Laramie. He was filming me. I dug my feet in and came to a stop a few feet before him.

"Gold medal," he cheered.

"Yeah. Give me some hot chocolate."

He kissed me. I noticed Natalie and Daryl watching. Was that the first time she saw me kiss a man? Surely, I had kissed Mitch in front of her. But I couldn't remember a single time. She and I weren't in a good place at the beginning. I'm sure I would have been too self-conscious. Maybe this was. She tried not to react, but I could tell she was trying not to react.

"Mom, you have to do it at least one time!" Corey insisted.

"Oh, honey. I'm too old for all this."

"The guys are doing it."

"Because they're all children." We laughed as she threw shade our way.

"Please? I'll take the sled and you and Daryl can ride together."

"Nice!" said Daryl. "It's decided."

"It is?" my former spouse questioned.

"Your ex-wife is nice," Laramie said, taking one of the last gulps of cocoa.

"Oh? What did you two talk about?"

"You. Us. Corey. Snow. How we were both freezing."

"Oh my gosh. My dick hurts."

"I'll warm it up later."

Ten minutes later they waved to us from the top. I filmed while Laramie took pictures. Natalie screamed louder than anyone that had been there all afternoon. Corey laughed the whole way down as he kept pace aside them. Corey stopped well, but the duo wound up trying to spin to slow down. It was not graceful, but Natalie's laughter was uproarious.

"We have pictures and video," I said. "You'll have to share with your family."

As Natalie stood, she shook snow off her coat and pants. "Okay. Are we all good now?"

We agreed we were.

As we got back to the house, Laramie carried both sleds into the garage and placed them neatly away.

"Thanks for being open to this. It wasn't my weekend," I told Natalie.

"It was memorable," she said.

"Thanks for joining us, Daryl." I was going to reach out for a handshake, but he hugged me before I could do that.

Laramie joined us again. "Well, we'll let you guys warm up. It was fun."

"It was!" Corey exclaimed. "Love you, Dad. Love you, Mom. Love you, Daryl."

Daryl froze. His eyes widened. I knew it was the first time he had heard that. Daryl leaned in for a hug and Corey accepted it with no problem. It was a moment. I could tell. I felt good for having played a role in it.

"Thank you, Mr. Larry," Corey said, giving him a hug.

"I loved spending time with you, kiddo. But if you want, you can just call me Larry."

Corey pondered it. "Nah. Mom and Dad told me to respect adults. I feel it is polite to call you Mr. Larry, but I can use your first name because you're my friend."

"I sure am. You can call me anything you want. Unless it's dickhead."

"Laramie!!" I chided.

Laramie made a face of being caught. Corey laughed. I slapped my boyfriend on the butt to get into the vehicle. We waved through the windshield one last time.

 

—

 

I warmed up leftover soup as Laramie tended to the fire.

"You're so butch," I said smiling toward the living room.

"You know it."

We both agreed hot soup was ideal after the cold afternoon.

Once dishes were put away, I asked what he would like to do for the evening.

"Is it okay if we just sit in front of the fire and talk?"

"Sounds nice."

We took our iced teas to the living room. I wondered if he would have preferred a beer. He had been very diligent about not drinking in front of me. It was a kind gesture we didn't talk about, but I did appreciate the effort behind it.

Conversation was eclectic. The Oscars. Hatch Chili Peppers. Varnish. Lucille Ball. Superstitions. Chris Hemsworth vs. Chris Evans. This Is Us. Fishing. Stiletto high heels. Movie popcorn. Cheese popcorn vs. caramel popcorn. Sugar Pops cereal. Diet soda. EBITDA. Stereo speakers.

It was all trivial but at the same time magical because we just cuddled together in front of the crackle of the fire. The yellow-orange flames danced in our eyes. We were content to do nothing.

I grabbed a throw pillow and stole his position from the night before. My head was in his lap staring up at him.

"Tell me something about you that I don't know," I said.

"You know everything about me. I have no more secrets."

"Huh! Hardly."

Laramie looked into the flames. Once he had thought of something, he looked down to me. "I've never been in the ocean."

"Really?"

"Nope. Never. Your turn."

"Hm." I needed to think of something good. "I've never had sushi."

"I'm with you on that. I did it once and I had the willies for hours."

My body lurched in laughter.

"I've only flown a few times. Growing up we didn't take vacations that didn't involve driving," he said. "I've never really even been that close to the ocean."

"Did you ever do a vacation trip with a boyfriend?"

"Not exactly. We did a weekend thing. We went to a concert a few hours away. Spent the night. No big deal."

"I'm sure you had a good time."

"We did." His hand slipped inside my shirt to gently caress my chest. "Maroon 5."

The fire crackled loudly. We let it take over the conversation for a moment. We listened in silence as the glowing wood shifted in the grate. Ashes fell, but there was still enough flame to make the fireplace hypnotic. My hand reached up to gently pet his arm as his fingers roamed my chest.

"If I can make a request," Laramie started. "Can we ... strip down to our underwear and lie in front of the fire?"

"Sure."

"That's okay?"

I leaned up to look at him. "Why sure. Why would you think otherwise?"

"I thought it might have sounded silly."

"You in less clothes is not silly," I said giving him a quick peck.

Within a few minutes, we both pulled a pillow from the couch. He stretched out on the rug first. I placed my pillow in front of him. I moved into him so that we could spoon. His arm reached around me.

"I've loved today," he softly said.

The fire had less crackle. There was now more seething hiss, but flames still flickered.

"All we did is go sledding and sit in front of the fire," I said.

"Exactly. It was wonderful."

I twisted my neck to give him a quick kiss. Then I turned back to see the fire's embers glowing. His hand gently rubbed the backs of his fingers along my boxers. I wasn't hard. Thirty seconds later, I was. His forefinger brushed over the bulge as if it were a sexual crayon coloring in its length.

"I can't believe you said dickhead in front of my son," I said.

"What made you think of that?"

"I wonder."

His hand moved inside the waistband to hold my erection. "He's in junior high. He'll be in high school next year. You know he hears that stuff all the time."

"I know. I know. I just like for adults to set an example around him." My cock felt invigorated in his warm grip.

"I see. Dickhead is off-limits. Is `suck' a cuss word to you?"

"Not a cuss word per se, but I'm not wild about him saying it. I guess as questionable words go, it's on the milder end."

He leaned up causing me to lie on my back. "Noted." He pulled my boxers off. His mouth hovered right over my dick. "I'll try..." he whispered. "...to not use the word..." His lips opened. "...suck." His mouth slobbered down my shaft. I moaned. I felt my cock throb inside his mouth. The seething of the wood embers harmonized with the slow, slick, sucking sound on my hard-on. He hummed. I moaned.

"Laramie," I softly cooed.

His hands roamed every inch of my body as his mouth continued to devour my male anatomy. I didn't have to move. I watched as my rod entered and exited his moustache and trimmed beard. The stimulation was exquisite. Several minutes transpired with me simply being tasted and consumed and licked and sucked. My fingers combed his short hair as his head bobbed up and down at my waist.

"Laramie," I softly approved. I didn't feel like cussing tonight. I just accepted this pleasure that lulled me into a sexual coma. "Laramie."

He continued with no hesitation.

Sucking.

Sucking.

Sucking.

The glow of the fire dimmed.

Sucking.

Sucking.

"Laramie."

I moaned.

Sucking.

Moaned.

Sucking.

"Babe. Oh, babe."

My hips lunged. My dick rammed up into his throat as it exploded. He hummed as he swallowed the release of my orgasm. I gasped more than groaned. I panted. "Laramie." Sucking.

I went limp. The fire crashed into its final ash heap going dark. We laughed at the comedic timing.

We kissed for a few minutes. I thought of when I told Natalie how happily in love I was. There was no doubt. I loved this man.

"How can I pleasure you, sir?" I whispered.

"Don't move."

Laramie darted into the bedroom and returned with lube. I was immediately alarmed. I knew my ass couldn't take a second night. He spread a sheen of lubricant on his cock.

"Don't move." Laramie spread his frame above mine. He leaned down to kiss me. Deeply.

As our tongues wrestled, I felt his dick press against my crotch. He rubbed it up and down by bucking his hips. And he kissed. And bucked. And rubbed. Kissed. Bucked. Kissed. Panted. Kissed. Moaned. Thrust. Bucked. Kissed. Groaned. He kept pressing his cock into my body. I loved it. I grabbed his butt and helped him push his lubricated skin into my groin. His arms held my sides as he frotted his dick against me again and again. I found myself erect again, much to my surprise. He pressed his cock into my cock. And kissed. Moaned. Thrust. His dick into my dick. Moaned. Panted. Kissed. Groaned.

I felt warm liquid around my bush and navel. He groaned more. I clutched his ass cheeks and pushed them into me. His cock slid with new slickness between us. We kissed. And bucked. And panted. And groaned.

And we stopped.

"That was nice," I softly said.

"I like doing that." His nose rubbed mine. "I guess we should clean up."

"Slide your cock around my chest some more."

In the darkness, Laramie moved his meaty flesh through his cum and wriggled it all over my skin.

"Bring it to my mouth."

He did. I swallowed the odd concoction of semen, lube and fireplace smoke. My tongue lapped up every inch of his organ.

He withdrew from me and placed his body aside mine. "The fire is gone," he said.

"We're too hot. It couldn't compete." He chuckled at my remark.

It would have seemed logical to get up and clean ourselves. We didn't. We held each other in sticky adoration.

"If we took a trip, where would you want to go?" I asked him in the inky blackness of the room.

"Hm. I'm not sure. I wouldn't want to go anywhere until it warmed up."

"It's okay to look a few months down the road."

"I love it that you want to plan things for us. That you see us lasting."

"I don't have any concerns about that. Do you?" I asked.

"Not on my end." He hesitated. "I love you, Cooper. Don't let me do something dumb and ruin it."

"I see only good things for us."

We held each other. It seemed to get darker. He placed his head on my shoulder. We just breathed. My thoughts drifted of being in a far off place with him. On a plane. At a beach. On an island. On a glacier. In a hammock.

I suddenly felt vilely sticky. "We should clean up."

After washing our affection from our bodies, we brushed our teeth and finished up for the night.

"Good night, babe."

"Good night, honey," I said. I turned out the light and found my way into his arms for the final time before floating away.

 

—

 

"Well, look who's here," Emory said, as Laramie slid into the booth. I sat next to him, and we both reached to hold each other's hand. "It's nice to see you two out and about as a couple. I guess things are all in place now?"

Laramie and I looked at each other and smiled.

"I guess so. I haven't told my whole family, but I probably will very soon. My sister Judith knows. Natalie and Corey are all on board."

"Well, good," Emory grinned. "I'm happy for you two."

"Thanks," said Laramie, blushing. "I kind of am too. I'm not too lucky when it comes to love."

"A good looking lug like you?" Emory asked in surprise.

"I don't know about that, but ... Cooper has managed to look past all my flaws."

"I found it easy to fall in love with you," I said, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Aw. Cute. But enough. Let's not get too nauseating so early on," Emory said sarcastically.

We chuckled.

"So how about you? Any progress on the dating front?" I asked.

"Oooo. Spill. Tell me everything," said Laramie, perking up at the bit of news.

"Donald. He's a few years older than me, but we sort of connected at a party a few weeks ago." Emory looked at me. "Yeah. We went out Friday night."

"When do we get to meet him? Bring him to coffee at 9 one week," I said.

"Now, don't rush me. We had an enjoyable evening Friday."

"Did you have an enjoyable night?" Laramie jumped in.

"Larimeeeee," I warned.

"Not everyone jumps into bed immediately," Emory glared. "But we kissed goodnight. A few times. That was good for me."

Brad brought Laramie his cappuccino. He looked at Emory. "Good for you, sweetie." He winked at Emory.

"What's next?" I asked.

"He wants to go dancing. Can you believe it? At our age?"

"Where?"

"The Black Stallion."

"Ooo! Can we join you? I'm dying to see Laramie in his cowboy hat again," I said.

Laramie snorted.

"Really? I might feel more comfortable if you guys were there."

"We don't want to intrude, but ... I love the place," Laramie said.

"Thursday night," Emory said.

"Oh, that's nice. Coop has Corey next weekend, so that will let us have some time together. If ... that works for you, Cooper."

"It does, babe."

Emory smiled at us again. "Babe. And here I remember a Cooper from a year ago who worried no one could love him. And they are being beaten off with a stick."

"I'm not beating anyone off ... okay, that sounds bad. I simply made a decision."

Emory was right though. He had developed feelings for me. Mitchell was trying to convince me I was the only one for him. And Laramie fell for me. My fears last year were embarrassingly shortsighted. I was still somewhat of an odd duck in the gay world, but I was at least comfortable with who I was.

"I'll be honest. I owe a lot to this coffee shop," I said in reflection.

"Yeah, you do," said Brad, four tables away.

I chuckled. "His hearing is amazing."

"Yeah, it is," he said, five tables away.

"Who would have thought that spilled coffee could bring me such wonderful moments. I'm glad you two are in my life."

"Amen," said Emory.

"And me?" said Brad behind the counter.

"And you too, Brad!" I called out. "I love you too."

Other patrons seemed to give us odd notice, slightly turning toward Brad to figure out what was going on, yet our moment of whimsy didn't present itself with any sense of importance or urgency.

 

—

 

We stepped into the shower, having felt the water temperature was comfortably warm. We took turns soaping each other up. Both of us had hard-ons the entire shower. We used scented body gel to suds those areas with particular precision. My ass was no longer sore, so having his fingers caress my crack with foamed lather was delightful. I stroked his cock with cleansing bubbles again. And again. And again.

"Mitch was bigger than me, wasn't he?" Laramie softly said.

"Why do you even say that?" I casually asked, trying not to give the question any weight. "I don't want you to ever compare yourself to Mitch."

"Thanks." He pulled me into his face for a quick kiss. "I just don't want you to be disappointed with me."

"Of the three of us, my dick is the shortest, so that should be my worry. Are you let down by my body?"

"No!" he immediately said. "Don't ever think that. I love everything about you. You're a gorgeous stud. I love your dick, your balls, your ass and everything else that extends in both directions."

"You won't compare me to previous boyfriends?"

"Not that there have been that many. I seem to have a lousy track record." He looked at me earnestly. "Cooper, you're IT. You are what I have wanted. For me to have this chance, I – I – I am dumbfounded that ... we have even happened."

We kissed passionately. And groped. And held each other in the warm spray cascading off and through our tight embrace. Our erections pushed alongside themselves, nestled together as if to echo our own hug.

Laramie's remarks did make me curious. I found him a wonderful catch. How had he not enjoyed success in the romance department? Were others put off by clumsy mistakes? Had he been bad at expressing his feelings? Did his family's upbringing shroud his confidence in doubt? He was certainly fine in bed. My instincts told me he wasn't secretly a serial killer. I was just glad our scars led us to each other.

Following the bliss of toweling each other off, we were content to simply be naked on the bed, kissing. As we groped, we found and jerked on each other's masts. Soon, kissing ceased so that we could nudge up against the other's body and engage in the simple pleasure of masturbating our romantic partner. Once I knew Laramie was close, I leaned for a nearby hand towel. We were squeaky clean. Once he announced he was approaching climax, I cupped his cock with soft fabric and pounded his stiff flesh until his body thrust into the velvety, cotton material. He did the same for me. We kissed and held each other for another elongated moment.

And our weekend was done. He had to return home to get some work finished. I did things around the house. Elated as I was with the weekend, I now felt the loneliness of him not being with me.

 

—

 

Monday, January 24

To: Cooper Snow
From: Mitchell Sanders

Subject: Sledding

Hi. I saw pictures of you sledding with Corey this weekend on his Facebook page. I hope it was okay that I liked it and said it looked like a fun time.

I hated social media. I saw in my own adult life how it had turned people into raging lunatics and had broken friendships. There was probably something of value buried in it, but it was not for me. I detested that Corey had an account, but Natalie was insistent that she would monitor it. Corey agreed with the restrictions. We were going to "try" Facebook before agreeing to TikTok. In my heart I knew that Corey was probably savvy enough to get around his parents easily if he so desired. I had to trust him and show him that as he got older.

To: Mitchell Sanders
From: Cooper Snow

Subject: RE: Sledding

Nothing embarrassing, I hope. It was fun. It reminded us of a time when he was much younger.

 

His reply:

I'm glad you and Natalie are in such a good place that you can do that.

 

We had taken so many pictures that day. I had no idea what was posted. Was Laramie in any of them? What kind of painful trigger is that to Mitchell?

 

Thanks, I typed back.

He didn't reply for a couple of minutes. What was he feeling? Was he hurting? Was it too awkward to know what to say? I thought maybe the conversation would end there. Then my computer blinged.

 

You looked happy, Cooper. I hope you are.

 

With those words, my eyes welled. I had no idea why. Was it relief that I felt that maybe he didn't hate me? Was it sorrow that I knew he was hurting? Was it joy that maybe we could be friends again one day?

 

Thank you. You too. I am. I paused, then sent: I hope we might do lunch one day.

 

I did not receive a reply back. Mitch did not email me at any other time for the rest of the month.

 

—

 

Tuesday afternoon, I received a call following lunch from Natalie.

"Hey. What's up? This is a bit unexpected."

"The principal at Corey's school called. She wants to talk to us."

Those words strike terror in the hearts of all parents.

"Why? What happened!? Is he okay?"

"They said he was, but they wished to speak to us in person. Are you able to get away?"

"I'll make sure I can. Did they give us a time?"

"She said they could be flexible, as long as it was before school let out."

Natale and I met up close to the same time, just before 2 in the school's office.

"Principal Metzger will be with you in a moment," the secretary said.

Soon she walked the short hallway and welcomed us to her office. Mrs. Metzger was a Black woman that looked to be in her late 40s. For a moment, she reminded me of Ophelia because of how impeccably she was dressed. Her desk looked surprisingly neat with any work to be done filed into tidy stacked folders. I noticed a photo of her family that was turned just enough for me to make out her husband and two children. He did not look Black, but nor did he seem white or even Hispanic. I couldn't determine the nationality, not that it really mattered. Her demeanor toward the two of us was courteous but still had an air of concern.

"Thank you for leaving work to come today," she said. "A situation occurred at school, and I want you to be aware of it."

"Is Corey okay?" I immediately asked.

"He is. But some other students were involved. A small fight broke out in the cafeteria."

Natalie clutched my hand.

"As far as I understand the details, there was some teasing going on. Some of Corey's friends got involved ... and a few punches were thrown."

"Teasing?" I asked.

"If I may be honest Mr. Snow, apparently two students made some ... homophobic slurs about you to tease and provoke your son. First, please let me assure you that we address such prejudiced remarks toward students just as we would racial slurs. This school has a zero tolerance policy in these matters."

"And Corey threw a punch?" I asked.

"Actually, no. The discussion escalated. Several of his friends shouted. The other two boys continued. I have several witnesses that confirmed that Corey only talked, albeit loudly in retaliation. One of his friends threw the first punch. The two boys that initiated physical blows ... have had a suspension placed on them. We have a zero tolerance policy on violence too. If it is of any consolation, the person who taunted with the bullying remarks received two days suspension. The boy that defended you only one. While we understood his courage to stand up for you, we have to be strong in our rules for no fighting."

"But Corey isn't being punished?" Natalie asked.

"No. We felt he acted appropriately in the situation. At the same point, I wanted you both to know. He may have things that unsettled him, and I wanted you to be aware of the situation."

"Why would another student stick up for me?" I asked. "Who was it?"

"As our students are minors, I can't disclose that. I hope you understand." She gave a sigh after holding back the information. "It's a shame we can't even reach the parents."

Aiden. Bless his heart. Why would he do that?

 

—

 

That evening I called Corey to see if he wanted to talk about it. He didn't. I asked if it was Aiden, and he confirmed it was.

"Why would he fight someone over me?"

"He just stood up for you. Several of my friends shouted back. If the fight hadn't been broken up, I think a couple others might have joined in."

"I'm glad you felt you didn't have to do that. It's hard, I know. But sometimes you have to ignore idiots like that. But I know that's tough to do."

"Yeah."

"I'm proud of you. At least know that."

"Yeah," he said flatly.

Damn. I hated bringing this crap into his world.

"Do you want me to call Aiden? Or his parents?"

"Not necessarily."

I could tell my son was frustrated with the entire situation. Although not punished by the school, he still had to suffer an environment that was unsetting. I talked him in to giving me Aiden's number. Just after dinner, I rang Aiden's phone.

"Hello?" Aiden answered. I knew he didn't recognize my number.

"Hi, Aiden. It's Mr. Snow." It was at that point that I realized I had not prepared what to say.

"Oh," he softly replied.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

"Corey didn't?"

"I thought I'd like to hear your version."

"Really?"

"Should I ask your parents for permission first?"

"Lord no. They are just mad that one of them has to stay at home tomorrow. Apparently, I can't be trusted to be on my own."

"I see."

"Phil Dawson just started throwing shade at Corey at lunch. It quickly went to saying mean things about you. Corey defended you. Our group of friends argued back. We were just hoping Phil and his friend Douchey would just leave."

"Douchey?"

"It's really Doogie, but he's a total douche. That's what we call him." It made me smile, but I tried to suppress my chuckle. "Then they started talking really dirty. It was a bunch of ... gay sex talk they said to put you down, and they said Corey was already probably doing it."

That destroyed me. Corey shouldn't have to deal with any of this.

"That's when I took a swing at him. He punched me back, and it was back and forth for a minute. Stupid people in the cafeteria cheered us on and filmed it. Our friends just tried to pull us apart. The vice principal was there pretty quickly."

"I see. Well, I'm sorry — very sorry — that this happened. Aiden ... it was kind of you to want to stand up for me, and I'm sure it took courage, but it isn't necessary for you to defend me. I don't want you to ever get into trouble on my account."

"I know. It just wasn't fair. They don't even know you. You're awesome."

My suspicions that Aiden was probably feeling gay tendencies dove deeper. But that wasn't the subject tonight. He would figure out his own path eventually.

"You're kind. And I'm very sorry this happened."

"It wasn't your fault."

"What did your parents say about the altercation?"

"Not much. They didn't care so much about what it was about. It was more how it impacted them. They sent me to my room. Dad is taking my phone with him tomorrow, so I have to sit at home with Mom with no phone, no computer and no TV."

"I really don't know what to say, Aiden. I just wanted to make sure you are okay."

"Yeah." With no emotion, he said, "I'm fine."

"I do appreciate your concern, but again, don't get in trouble over me. You're a nice boy, Aiden."

"Thanks, Mr. Snow. You're nice, too."

 

—

 

After my AA meeting I texted Corey to see what he might like to do this weekend. He didn't have any concrete plans he'd thought about suggesting. He asked if I could help him on an English paper. I said I would be pleased to assist.

"Do you want it to be just the two of us?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Just Dad and son? Or ... would you like Larry to come over one evening?"

"Either way. I'm okay. I like Mr. Larry. Whatever."

"Okay. I'll see if he's interested in joining us. I'm sure he doesn't want to intrude on our weekends."

"Do you think he would show me where he works?"

"You'd like to see that? It isn't glamorous."

"I'd be interested."

"I'll let him know."

 

—

 

The next night Laramie was astonished with Corey's interest. I felt it touched him in a warm way. As I conveyed the school incident, I got lost in Laramie's eyes and how sexy he looked in a cowboy hat. He had a turquoise western shirt on with a bolo tie I had not seen him wear before. His black jeans matched his black hat. He had boots on as well. I had nothing overtly western, but I liked my black long-sleeve with my favorite blue jeans.

After a few minutes of conversation, we found ourselves kissing passionately in public, which surprised me a bit. But it was a gay club; who would have noticed?

"Should we find a different table?" Emory said walking up.

Laramie and I separated with a smile.

"Guys, this is Donald."

"Call me Don," the gentleman said. He had most of his hair, all gray with a small bald spot in the back (that I would notice later). His gray beard and moustache made him look rather distinguished. Aside from his western shirt — pink! — huge belt buckle, jeans and cowboy boots, he had the air of a scholarly professor. I didn't recall Emory telling us what his former line of work used to be. Since he was over 70, I assumed Don must be retired.

The conversation was pleasant between the four of us. Don was very nice, and Emory seemed to light up in a way I had never seen before. The two of them had beers, but Laramie wouldn't drink when he was with me. We both had Cokes.

When line dancing started, the four of us joined in. It was easy to laugh as I still wasn't that coordinated with it, but I knew Laramie appreciated me being by his side. Emory was as inexperienced as me, but his body rhythms seemed more comfortable than mine. For about fifteen minutes, we had a grand time.

The two of them excused themselves to the restroom. Laramie decided to sway to the music at our cocktail table. I was locked in his arms; he stood behind me. As our hips swayed back and forth, he pushed his erection into my butt to where he knew I would feel it.

"I wish you could fuck me right in the middle of the dance floor," he whispered in my ear.

"I feel I've caused enough grief for my son this week. Let's try to stay off the evening news."

He turned me to look at him. "It's okay. You're okay. He's okay."

"I know." My eyes were locked on his. I probably looked like a three-year-old child. "I hope."

"I love you, Cooper." He kissed me, and then our arms squeezed us tight, now looking into each other's eyes as we swayed. It comforted me.

"I love you too."

Our friends returned and we got to know a little more about Don. He had retired from the university library seven years ago. Both his parents had passed, but he had a younger sister in Nashville. Since his retirement, he had traveled to four countries and 14 states. The only state he lacked in checking them all off was Alaska. He began attempts at talking Emory into an Alaskan cruise. I felt that was rather "quick" in their relationship, but Emory listened.

A good two-step song came on.

"I know Emory is out on this one," Don said. "Cooper, would you be so kind to loan me your beau for a dance?"

I smiled at Laramie and nodded. The two of them skidded off to the dance floor. Emory and I watched for a moment.

"He's nice," I said.

"Yeah. We're clicking very well." Emory continued to gaze at Don. "I think tonight we might ... you know."

"No, I have no idea. Please tell me, sir," I said with sarcasm.

Not taking his eyes off the dancing duo, Emory confided, "I'm nervous, Cooper. It's been so long. Hell, it's been so long just since you and I fucked." The statement made me cringe. "I just hope I do okay."

"Emory, I'm sure he feels the same way. You seemed fine when ... we ... did it."

His head turned to me with a grin. "You so regret that, don't you?"

"Yes. No. Well, not that it was you, but the fact that I ... I'm just not ... I don't sleep around. It made me feel like my morals had shifted off their axis." I had looked down when I had said that, but I lifted my head to look at him directly. "However, it did change Mitch's and my sex life forever."

"There you go," he said with a wink.

"Just be yourself, Emory. Don likes you. Sex is just one small part of it. You both will find your way."

"If I can't get it up, I'll just picture you and Larry. You two made me hard just watching you make out."

"I will thank you to keep us out of your bedroom please, sir."

 

—

 

With a loud grunt, I came inside Laramie. We had done a skilled job of coming together because I saw him shoot on his chest as my cock spasmed its last round. Our panting and groaning de-escalated in the seconds following, but our heavy breathing continued. A minute later I pulled my deflated erection from him to lean in for a kiss.

"I could not have waited until the weekend," he smiled. "I wanted you all night."

He wiped the cum on his chest into his hand and then slathered it around my dick. No longer hard, it still felt good with his gooey grip on my genitals.

I gave another quick kiss. "I wanted you too."

"And we can't be this loud Saturday night either."

I rolled off him and lay at his side. He continued to spread tacky semen around my penis, which was becoming slightly ticklish.

"You sure you can't stay the night?" he asked.

"As much as I would love to sleep in your arms, I need to get home. I didn't bring anything for overnight, and I have an early meeting. We have this weekend."

I got off the bed but leaned down to let my tongue gently touch the head of his beautiful penis. It caused his body to jump. Ten minutes after cleaning us up, we were in his driveway, embraced in a kiss.

 

—

 

Corey's spirits seemed in a fairly positive mood when I picked him up at Natalie's. While he got his bag, I asked Natalie how his week had gone.

"He's been slightly moody. He was on such a high after we all went sledding. The school thing kind of brought him down."

My face grimaced. "Nat, what is high school going to be like?"

"Cooper, he is surrounded by friends who truly love who he is — and indirectly support you as well. Don't worry about what is not in your control. Kids are kids."

"I just hate adding an extra layer."

Corey came outside. We both hugged Natalie goodbye. I held her an extra moment. "You're a good mom," I whispered to her.

While in the car, I told him dinner was wide open. We could eat out or we could fix something at the house. He was craving pizza. We drove to Pi 3.14, a place near the house we had been meaning to try. It was too artisanal for Corey's tastes — at least when it came to pizza — but we thought it was good, nonetheless.

"How was school this week? I mean, except Tuesday."

"Fine. A few people talked about it the next day, but it wasn't that big a deal. Most people were happy Phil got suspended. He's a jerk to a lot of people."

"You didn't get harassed anymore, did you?"

"No. A few people talked about it, but no one really started anything up. Some of my friends made sure I knew they supported me. You. Us. Whatever."

"Kids can be mean."

"Tell me about it."

"I'm proud of you for being more mature than that. I know it's hard."

"Can I cook tomorrow night?" he said, apparently trying to change the subject.

"Sure. I asked Laramie to come. Is that fine?"

"No prob. It's just as easy to cook for three. It will be nice to see him." Corey seemed hesitant to ask, but he did: "It won't be the first time for him to stay over, will it?"

"Noooooo," I responded awkwardly. "He stayed over last weekend." However, that was not the first time, not that I let him know of any sexual exploits from December.

"You two are doing fine?"

"Sure. We are in a committed, loving relationship."

"Okay. Cool."

As he reached for his final slice, Corey sounded sheepish. "Dad, Mitchell liked my post on Facebook. I posted pictures of us sledding." I nodded. "Is it okay that we are Facebook friends?"

"Well, sure, buddy. I'm glad you are. I'm totally good with Mitch being a part of your life, if you both want it that way. I hope one day he and I can be good friends again too."

"Do you talk at work?"

"No. We don't. Sadly. However, he sent me an email that he liked your Facebook post. He said I looked happy."

"It was fun."

"Did you post any pictures of Mr. Larry?"

"I didn't feel I should without his permission. Mostly me and you and one with you and Mom and me."

"Did it get any comments?"

"A little. A lot of my friends seemed kind of jealous when we talked at school." Hearing his words made me feel good. "Aiden was really envious. I kind of worry about him."

"Why is that?"

"I don't think he is happy at home."

"That makes me sad. Be a good friend; he may need one. If you want to invite him over one weekend, I'm fine with that."

"We aren't super close. We only have choir together. But ... I'll try to make sure I sit with him at lunch for a while."

"Do you sit with your girlfriend?"

Corey blushed. "Kind of. Usually. Yeah. I guess."

"Well, good. I'm glad you two are still a thing."

"A thing?"

"You know what I mean."

I remembered my friends at that age, as best as I could anyway. It seemed like kids paired up and lasted for a few weeks. It was nice that my son could see something longer-lasting. I'm sure he would have many girlfriends in the years ahead, but I felt good about this one.

"Can I meet her one day?"

"Maybe. Not sure when."

Corey steered the conversation to tomorrow night's dinner and the ingredients he would like us to get. On the drive home, we stopped in the grocery store and gathered the food items he needed. I noticed that the final remains of last week's snow were all but gone. It was just cold but above freezing, except for the nights.

The evening consisted of streaming new episodes of our favorite shows to watch together and bowls of ice cream.

 

—

 

After lunch Saturday, the two of us put the makings of our sandwiches away and sat down to work on my son's English assignment. I had helped him with homework numerous times throughout his life. I wasn't sure why this particular assignment felt more like a bonding moment, but it did. The story was to be a narrative about a grandparent. He chose my mother. He had me share some stories from my own youth as well as incorporating his own remembrances.

"I'm supposed to includes some quotes from the person too."

"Okay, let's call her."

My mother was thrilled not only that Corey had called, but she was honored that he had selected her. They talked for about 15 minutes, part of which was asking her to repeat some things so he could write them down.

At the end of the call, I left the room to talk to her privately. Corey continued on his paper.

"Is Dad home?"

She said he was, and I asked her to get him and put the phone on speaker.

I took a deep breath and gave it my all to muster my courage.

"Mom, Dad, you remember Larry from Christmas, right?"

"He was so nice," Mom said.

"We enjoyed his company. It was nice that Corey wanted to bring him," my father added.

"I'm – I'm glad you think so." I went silent.

"Cooper? Is that man okay?"

"Oh, yes. Yes! I ... I hate using this word, but he ... he is now my boyfriend. We love each other; we're a couple."

"Oh," they said in sync. It was quiet for a moment. I wasn't sure if I should say something or wait for them to respond further.

"Did you know he was gay at Christmas?"

I chuckled. "Yes, mom. I knew. In fact, I was falling in love with him all last month. Sadly, it was tearing me apart because I was struggling with my relationship with Mitchell and ... I let things spiral on me. But... we are in love. We are committed to being in a loving relationship. I – I just wanted you to know."

"I see," my father said. It was at that moment that I realized I used that phrase as well. Was I turning into my father? "Well, we liked him, I suppose."

"He's still the exact same person you enjoyed meeting." My heart was pounding very fast, but the beating thankfully began to subside to something more normal. "I just want you to be happy that I'm very much in love, and I'm very happy with him."

"What happened to Mitch?" Mom asked. "Are all three of you in this relationship?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Mother. I would love for us to eventually be friends again. I still care for him. But I knew we could not make it work as a couple."

My mother sighed. "I'm sure it is all beyond me. I never really fully understand." I rolled my eyes again in exasperation. "But Cooper, if you say you are happy, that's what matters to me the most. We like this Larry, so ... if you two are happy, then we can be too."

"Judith knows as well."

"Is he moving into the house with you?"

I chuckled. "That would be a bit fast. He has his own house."

"I see."

"I'm glad you know. I like being able to speak openly and honestly."

With a bit of strain, we all said we loved each other.

Two hours later, Laramie came over. He and my son hugged. We kissed in front of him. Corey made small talk of the dinner menu. Laramie conveyed that he was impressed with appropriate sincerity.

I had made some iced tea earlier, so I poured us a glass. Corey opted for a Dr. Pepper. We sat at the kitchen table and nibbled on some chips. That led to a mindless discussion, or more to the matter, a debate over which chip was the best. I briefly described Corey's English project and offered my son some praise for his work, even though he pointed out I hadn't read the finished product.

Laramie asked Corey if he still wanted to see his shop, and my son confirmed that he did.

We drove to Jenkins Mantle. The staff had worked a short shift until 3:00, so it was vacated for the most part. I was slightly concerned about how long this would hold the interest of a 14-year-old boy. I would hate for Corey to indirectly hurt Laramie's feelings. I needn't have worried. After a brief tour around the shop, Corey had a few questions. Laramie demonstrated how to use a few of his tools. Then he sat Corey down and the two of them started putting a cabinet together. Corey smiled at me when parts went successfully joined. There were moments when Laramie's arms were wrapped around Corey showing him how to do something. Corey in the middle almost looked like he was in the embrace of a father. I was confident that Laramie had never pictured himself as such a figure, but it was heartwarming to me, to say the least. When the four sides were attached, it was time to call it quits, but Corey had been quite engaged.

"That was fun. Thanks, Mr. Larry."

I took a picture of the two of them with the beginning of the cabinet. I texted it to my son.

It took Corey about 50 minutes to prepare dinner. He had come with a recipe in his weekend bag. Our meal started with a salad, nothing too exotic but slivered almonds made it look fancy. Hawaiian chicken was the main entrée, but edamame was an unusual side. The chicken was plated on a rice pilaf.

"Any weekend you don't want to come to your dad's, you can come stay at my place, kiddo," Laramie said. "This is awesome. Nice job."

"Thanks," my son said with a grin.

"Where did you learn to like edamame?" I asked.

"I had dinner at Grace's house one night. They served it. I noticed it at a Chinese restaurant a few weeks ago. I like it. It's different."

"For our family, it sure is."

Since Corey had mentioned Grace, we talked about her for a few minutes. For some reason, when it wasn't just me, he seemed to open up a bit more with Laramie in the room. We were adults, but I felt he really did think of Laramie as a friend, certainly in a respectful way.

It was interesting to see three men doing the dishes. The used plates and pots and pans were dealt with in no time.

Following dinner, Corey and I, finding out that Laramie had not seen the original Iron Man, pulled up the movie on a streaming service (even though he owned it at Natalie's house). Laramie probably would have enjoyed it more if my son and I weren't in the room because we interjected so many details and connections of the 20 movies that followed. Laramie played along well enough and resisted the urge to tell us to shut up.

Just before bed, we all had a bowl of cookies and cream. I asked Corey to set his alarm for 7:45 so that we would be on time for coffee at 9. He agreed. We carried our bowls to the sink and rinsed them. I loaded them into the dishwasher.

"Don't stay up late," I said.

"I won't," he said, stretching the truth as kids do. "Good night, Dad. Good night, Mr. Larry." He hugged us both.

As he turned toward the staircase, I said "Love you, son."

"Love you, too, Dad," he replied as he had taken two steps. "Love you, Larry," as he took another step.

Laramie's body jolted. He grabbed my wrist and looked at me in shock. He pulled us to the bedroom door. I was alarmed at Laramie's expression. His mouth tried to form words. He was lost in breathing and reacting and attempting speech. His eyes darted back and forth as they continued to moisten.

"He ... I can't believe ... I don't ..." Laramie failed at forming sentences. He then went into the bathroom and shut the door. It was quiet. A couple minutes later, I heard him blowing his nose. He eventually emerged from the bathroom with his eyes noticeably red.

"Wow." He sat down at the edge of the bed. "That really hit me."

"You okay?"

"Of course, I'm okay! That was huge. I – I – I don't ... that was just the sweetest ..."

Sentences continued to fail him. I kissed him as a form of simple rescue.

We removed most of our clothes; our garments scattered on the floor on each side of the bed. We stretched our bodies, now clad in just underwear, to face each other.

"That comment from Corey really touched you, didn't it?"

"How could it not? He's never said that before."

"Are you fine with him saying that to you?"

"Absolutely." Laramie rolled and looked into the nothingness of the ceiling. "I ... I don't hear that word used much. With me, anyway."

"Hm?"

"My family almost never used it. My grandmother told me she loved me. I don't really recall my parents saying it so much. My old boyfriends ... we never really got that far; some, I suppose. My first love in college did. I said it to Micah, and he said it back. That was the longest boyfriend I ever had here in Jackson Bend."

"But you and I say it all the time. I tell you I love you."

"And I melt every single time you do." My hand fumbled for his hand as he went on. "It's not that I'm afraid of it ... or anything. I ... just haven't been lucky enough to find myself in the situation. I actually fell in love with you by accident."

"You are a wonderful man — kind, handsome, loving. How ... how have you not heard this your whole life?" I was stunned that Laramie had so seldomly heard someone loved him.

"I'm such a dunce in relationships. I seem to foul it up before it gets too far." He turned to me. "Please don't let me do that with you."

I pulled him into my arms. "Never. I love you, Laramie. Don't second guess it."

I reflected on my words. I had second guessed everything last month. I had made a mess of my life, but once I made the decision to be with Laramie, life had found a new sense of calm. Love was really easy with him. Each day I missed Mitchell less. I didn't want my love for him to completely disappear. I owed him so much. But I felt God had led me to Laramie. I'm sure my family would disagree on that, but I felt we were brought together for a reason. I couldn't fathom my life without him.

He nuzzled his face into my chest near my nipple. I squeezed him tighter. He rested the back of his hand against the pouch of my underwear. His gentle touch caused my penis to stir.

"A year ago, I questioned who could possibly love me, and..."

"Cooper! You're beautiful. You're a kind and loving father. You are so easy to love. I just needed a friend, and you turned out to be the person I was looking for. Or hoped for. How could you ever possibly have doubted the man you are?"

"Mitch had shattered my self-esteem, and I felt so ill-equipped to fit into the gay world."

"You are attracted to men. What else was needed? But I get it. You and I have similar family dynamics." He moved his face into my armpit and kissed it gently. No one had ever done that before. "You are my Iron Man."

"Thanks for playing along with the movie, by the way," I said, pressing his head further into my chest.

His wrist rotated so that his fingers now cupped my stretching iron pole. After groping it with a feather touch for a moment, Laramie slipped his fingers below the waistband of my briefs. I pulled my knees up and just removed them. He did the same. We kissed in our nakedness.

"We had great sex Thursday night," Laramie said. "Do I take it with Corey here that's off limits?"

"Not necessarily," I said kissing his nose. "Maybe we can behave with quiet restraint."

"Maybe," he whispered into a kiss. "Did I ever tell you that the day you spilled coffee on me that I started going back to Joe just hoping to see you again?"

"Really? Did I ever tell you that you have my favorite penis ever?"

"Mine? It's pretty average," he debated.

"Hardly. Not that I've seen a lot in real life. Maybe ten. But yours ... I like its length and its girth and ..."

I sat up.

"It."

I leaned toward his crotch.

"Has."

I moved my hand near his organ.

"This."

I extended my pointer finger.

"Vein."

I touched it right at the rim of his head.

"That."

I traced the vein down the end of his shaft.

"Totally."

My lips moved closer.

"Sends."

My tongue touched the vein.

"Me."

I traced it with my tongue to the base of his cock. I felt it stiffen as I slowly retraced it back. My mouth then swallowed all of his dick. Laramie inhaled.

Quietly I serviced my man as his fingers sifted through my hair. He surrendered his will to me as I licked and sucked and swallowed the magnificent feel and allure of his flesh. Minutes upon minutes of oral gratification on my part and energized stimulation on his part passed as if it were both a brief second and a surrealistic eternity.

Quietly.

His hips thrust ever so slightly, plunging his battering ram into my throat. My mouth kept it wet and lubricated. He whimpered in soft moans. My hands cupped his ass cheeks below him. He pulsated his cock in and out of my face.

Quietly.

His hips gyrated more. I worked a finger over to his crack and teased the pucker of his hole as I sucked his erection with my tongue flickering the underside of his cock like a snake. He panted as my mouth drove him further into erotic reverie.

Quietly.

My mouth sealed tight, and he shoved his shaft into me. His body lurched. He quickly gasped. He exploded in my mouth.

Quietly.

I hummed feeling the warm liquid burst inside me. His hands fiercely gripped my hair between his fingers. I swallowed. And swallowed. And swallowed.

Quietly.

"Holy fuck, Cooper. My God."

Suddenly, his posture changed. He pulled my face from his phallus and moved it to look at me.

"I'm sorry."

I looked at him confused.

"You asked me not to use those religious cussing terms. I forgot. I'm sorry."

His mouth sealed over my lips. He kissed me deeply.

"I'll just have to punish you," I whispered.

He smiled.

"I'm kidding. Couldn't do that quietly." I moved up to his face and waved my dick in front of his mouth. He opened wide. I plunged within his lips, and he took it all.

Several minutes of me fucking his face transpired. Had I felt cleaner, I would have punished him with directions to rim me, but his blow job was stimulating me just fine.

"That's it, babe. You're working my fucking cock just the way I like it," I softly called out to him. "Suck me, Laramie. That's so good."

More time went by as I continued to thrust my male flesh into his welcoming haven. It felt tremendous. My dick ached in pleasure, all but begging to come, and at the same time wanted the sensations to continue for hours. Ached. Stimulated. Sensations. Coming.

My lasting power held out a few more minutes. His tongue began to toy with me. I moaned louder than I should have.

"Baby, I'm almost there."

He grabbed my ass and shoved me into him as I fired shot after shot into his throat.

Quietly.

I heard him make one last swallow, and I slowly slid my moist flesh from his mouth.

We moved into an embrace of more arms than it seemed like two men should have. Our dicks touched. Our lips melded.

Once the lights were turned out and the room was dark, I felt him place his head on my chest again.

"I'm sorry that you didn't hear you were loved for much of your life. You're a wonderful man," I whispered. "I'll make it my life's mission for you to hear it as often as you need to. I love you."

"And Corey does too," he sniffed.

 

—

 

 

I rapped on Corey's door at 7:50. "You up?"

"Yeah."

"Okey doke. We'll see you downstairs in a while. Be ready to go at 8:45."

As I would have coffee at Joe, I just drank a small glass of juice to clear my throat. I returned to the bathroom. I could tell Laramie had just finished on the toilet.

"I'll need to leave from Joe," he said. "There are some things at work I hope to get done."

"I'm fine with that. This past night was kind of a bonus."

"It sure was. You don't think Corey could hear anything do you?"

"I thought we were pretty quiet."

"Do you think he pictures the two of us ... you know, making love?"

I pondered. "I don't know. Did you ever picture your parents having sex?"

"Ew. No."

"I would like to believe he thinks we hold each other, in a mild romantic way. Kiss. Heaven knows I am not brave enough to ever venture into asking those questions."

Laramie stood naked before me.

"Can we shower together?"

I kissed him. "I'd love that."

Although we had showered a few times before, it seemed magical each time. I felt it was the slippery lather sliding over each other's body parts that made the groping touch enchanting. I loved my hands on him, and his soapy hold on my body was superhuman. We had kissed for minutes on end, our hands sliding in the hot slickness of the flowing water. I put some shower gel on my finger and soaped his hole. I rubbed and rinsed.

"Do it again," he asked.

I did. Two fingers went in and began exploring and stimulating his posterior. He moaned. I was confident Corey couldn't hear, even if he had come downstairs.

"Oh man, fuck, Cooper," he groaned in approval. His waist writhed on my probe. I fingered his ass for at least a minute. He whimpered his pleasure.

I moved close to his ear. "Would you like more of me?"

"Yes, sir," he answered quickly.

Coating my erection in shower gel, I questioned if this would work in place of lube. My dick punctured the seal, and my head entered causing him to grunt. My arms wrapped around his chest, and I gradually pushed all the way in. Our cheeks were pressed together side by side, and we both moaned.

Could we do this? Could we actually make love in the shower in this way? In the time we had remaining?

Two minutes into it, my rhythm inside him had my cock feeling wonderful. Laramie stroked his dick.

Three minutes into it, my cock felt glorious. "Fuck me, babe," he said, jerking his dick.

Four minutes into it, my cock was electronic, throbbing with electricity. The consistency of the gel had completely changed, but we fucked with great vigor. I held his hips tight. Laramie pounded his dick.

Five minutes into it, my cock was a seething volcano on the cusp of eruption. "I'm so close, babe," I said to him. He told me he was too. I jackhammered my erection into his ass. He ripped his dick apart with no mercy.

Six minutes into it, we came. I heard him grunt. His head dropped. I assumed he watched his beautiful cock with that beautiful vein spurt beautiful cum in my beautiful shower. I held his hips and shoved my manhood into him as deeply as I could, as if to lift his feet from the floor. Pulse after pulse fired into him. Both of us panted in our orgasms. We felt we had contained our volume enough, but there was an oral gratification with our climax to be sure.

I removed my cock. More soap. More lather. More kissing. More loving.

"That was a first for me," I said.

"Fucking in a shower?"

"Yeah."

"Me too."

We looked at the glass. Laramie's cum was still splattered, slowly dripping as its viscosity thinned. I took the shower head and rinsed its crusade to the floor. I sprayed his ass and then his crotch, taking a moment to admire the vein that enthralled me so. I sucked his penis for just a brief moment, and then sprayed it a final time.

We had eight minutes to dry and get dressed.

Corey was waiting. He had helped himself to a Pop-tart from the pantry. Once he found out Laramie was leaving following our coffee, he asked if he could ride to Joe in his truck. Laramie positively beamed. I was delighted these two were connecting so well. Mitchell and Corey had always been close, so this was a relief. I was proud of Corey for developing relationships with adults that weren't dictated by my own feelings.

They had ordered when I parked the car. I assumed Laramie treated my son to a cup of coffee. When I walked in, my heart was warmed that Brad had Corey in a bear hug.

I grabbed my coffee. I noticed Corey had walked past the flavor pumps. We joined Emory in the back.

"Look who it is!" Emory said, seeing Corey.

It was nice to see our group back together again after several weeks. I looked over at the round tables that seated six and remembered when Mitch would often join us. I wondered if such a day would ever happen again. Maybe if Mitch found someone new, he would feel comfortable enough to rejoin our Sundays. As it was, coffee at 9 had become a highlight each week. The connections between these people in this simplest of moments was so many things: a lifeline, a refuge, a family, a blessing. There was no guarantee that I would never find myself in the position that I did a year ago. I felt confident it would not be because of Laramie. Life is unpredictable. Regardless, if the two of us didn't work or last forever, I was okay with who I was and where I was. It took time, but I learned to like Cooper Snow.

"So, kiddo," Emory started. "You and this girl ... still hot and heavy?"

"Emoreee," I warned.

Corey slapped me on the arm with the back of his hand. With no words, his gesture said, "Chill, Dad."

"Grace and I are good. We're officially `going together.'"

"Awesome."

I wanted to ask how Emory's night with Don went, but the subject was too much of a vocabulary tap dance to choreograph.

Brad brought Laramie his cappuccino. Laramie ripped his Christmas paper out of his wallet and said, "Corey's treating me to a cinnamon roll. Bring two forks; I'm sharing it with him." My son smiled at his remark. "I love this kid."

Corey made small talk about the songs they were learning in choir. When he shifted the subject to sledding with Laramie and me, I noticed Emory stopped looking at my son and shifted his gaze to Laramie. He noticed a gleam in my boyfriend's eyes. When Corey spoke of making a cabinet with "Mr. Larry" at his workplace, Laramie was all but radiant. The line of Emory's lips slightly warped at the ends, curling to form an almost-imperceptible grin, but I could see it. The two of us saw the captivated sparkle in Laramie's eyes as he listened to my son.

It let me know that as much as I loved the man, I would find it possible for that love to grow even greater. I was mesmerized by everything about him.

Brad brought the cinnamon roll and rested a fork on a napkin in front of my son and my lover. He topped off our coffee.

Corey and I were both drinking ours black.

 

* * * *

 

Thank you for sharing Cooper's one-year journey. I hope it has been a satisfying read. For more on the conclusion of Coffee at 9 and information on the next story, which is about Laramie, visit the blog: timothylane414stories.blogspot.com There you will find more details about the writing.

I do welcome your feedback on Coffee at 9. And if you'd like to be notified with the next book begins posting, drop me an email: timothylane414@gmail.com