I like this chapter.

FAIR WARNING: It is long. Know that going in. You may wish to break it up.

The last chapter took us to Mitchell's Thanksgiving. This one goes to Christmas Day.

 

 

24

 

It wasn't yet December, but shopping madness had overtaken the city. Sales, promotions, one advertising blitz after another. Stores had put up Christmas decorations by Halloween, but now houses were being adorned in yuletide bling.

My parents were the only people I had to buy gifts for. I had never really given trinkets to coworkers or friends. I didn't even have a boyfriend to worry about.

As liberating as that was, it was also kind of sad. Would I actually enjoy buying gifts for others? I could ponder it, but the goal at the moment was to purchase a box of Christmas cards. I found a design I liked. It was a vertical image, which would go with the pictures Dad had taken. I could have simply made a photo card, but my intention was to write a personalized message in each. I would slip the photo inside. There were 16 cards in the box. That would suffice.

I needed to get the photos printed off. Where exactly did one do that nowadays? After not finding a place to do so after a couple of attempts, I went online. Costco rescued me.

 

—

 

The pictures had arrived by December 1. If I could mail them within a few days, my card should be one of the first the recipients received.

I sat at the computer in my home office and typed up what I wanted to say in each one. I knew it was more personal to be hand-written, but at least I had formulated my thoughts. I could write them later.

To Logan:

"Thank you for your guidance and friendship. I knew you'd be the best one to help me heal. Thank you for helping me make great strides. I appreciate what you've done for me.

I know I will enjoy our nights out for drinks even more now. I've stayed connected with only a few college friends. I'm glad you are one. You are important to me.

I hope the entire holiday season is a time of wonderful moments for you and Nate.

Merry Christmas."

 

To Carter:

"As I continue on my journey, having you as a friend has been a great blessing. Talking with you and Layton has become a highlight of my weeks. Thanks for your kindness; I know you don't have to do that. I appreciate you.

It certainly hasn't been my easiest year, but you have been a bright spot to it.

Whatever qualities of the holidays you enjoy, I hope this season is overflowing with those wonderful moments.

Wishing you the merriest Christmas ever."

 

I wrote something very similar to Layton.

 

To Cruz:

"I may have sent cards in the past, but I am so happy that we have started talking again this year. I've enjoyed feeling closer to you again.

It's been a very hard year, but through it all, reconnecting with you has been a huge blessing. I love that you still have a place in my heart, even after all these years. You're a very special person, Cruz, and I hope you know that.

I'm not sure when or if our paths will cross again, but I do wish that could happen one day.

Sending you and Carlos happy wishes and hugs for the season. I hope it is the best Christmas ever."

 

To Sawyer:

"While this year has not been an easy one for me, meeting you was a bright spot. I enjoyed our special connection. Although distance separates us considerably, you are still in my thoughts.

I hope the new business venture here in Jackson Bend is successful for your company. My selfish wish is that it will bring you into town from time to time.

However you celebrate the holidays, I send you happy wishes for the season and a very Happy New Year.

Merry Christmas!"

 

To Kenneth:

"It was so incredible to see you again this year. I am very happy for you and Graham. I hope the two of you (and Simone) have a wonderful holiday.

I feel the new year will be brighter for me, and I have much optimism moving forward. Perhaps it will provide opportunities for us all to meet again.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year."

 

This one was trickier. To Arlo:

"It was an unexpected surprise — and a nice one — to connect with you again this year. I think of those special moments in the past from time to time and remember them fondly.

Whatever traditions you and your partner have established for the holidays, I hope this season is filled with wonderful moments.

I am thinking the new year is going to be brighter for me, and I wish to share that optimism with the world.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year."

 

I suppose I could have written, "Have a sparkling Christmas," but that was too much, even for me.

 

My parents were next:

"Mom and Dad,

Thank you for your continuous support of me and understanding and unconditional love.

The past year has been tough. I know it is a result of my own shortcomings, but I have found my footing again and feel confident that the new year will be much better. Thank you for being patient with me.

I look forward to spending more quality time with you over Christmas.

I hope the weeks ahead are joyful. I love you and Merry Christmas."

 

 

It felt slightly odd to write a message to coworkers, but I wanted Ashley and Tanya to know that I appreciated their support. I conveyed that in a simple message of appreciation.

 

I wrote a holiday message to my aunt and both sets of grandparents. I had never sent them any type of card before. I knew they would be surprised.

 

Only a few were left.

 

To Cooper:

Damn. What message should I write? I didn't want to get too emotional. It was just a Christmas card.

To Cooper and Larry:

"I want to wish both of you a very happy holiday season. Whatever Christmastime may bring, I hope it is filled with joy. I wish you all the happiness you deserve.

Give Corey the biggest hug from me.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year."

 

There. That was emotional enough. There was no need to ask for continual forgiveness for my mistake. There was no need to beg him to take me back or to ignore Larry. There was no reason to overdo it. Just a simple, nice message was fine. Would Larry even want the card to be around?

A couple of cards remained, but I was drained at that point. Some important clients might possibly receive the leftover ones. Or maybe Emory. Mike and Trent? Brad? I'd figure something out.

I signed each one, slipped the photo of me inside, and sealed each envelope. After sealing Cooper's, I found my lips gently kissing his name on the envelope. It was so silly. I didn't even think about doing it. It just happened.

After putting Christmas stamps on them, I realized that was the most expensive part. I'd deliver Ashley's and Tanya's by hand at the end of the week. I sat back and looked at the short stack of cards. It was so simple, and yet to some people it seems overwhelming. It bemused me that just reconnecting with people these past months made it more relevant to send a card. I had never written anything in Cruz's card in the years I had sent them. The brief messages gave me a sense of satisfaction.

I found it odd that it did so.

 

—

 

I mailed the cards Saturday afternoon following an errand downtown. On the drive home, I was near The Black Stallion. I pulled into the lot to see if Carter or Layton were working. I had learned to recognize their cars from the handful of lunches we had taken.

Neither of them was there.

I had just seen them Wednesday night, but I was kind of hoping they would be there. They were my "buds."

I wondered if I was just another customer to them. They only saw me once a week, if we didn't do a lunch. Had I put too much emphasis on them as a support system? Naturally, they had to be nice to all customers. Then again, we went out to lunch here and there. That had to mean something.

I texted. "Lunch Monday?"

"Love to," Layton texted back immediately. Forty minutes later, Carter confirmed.

Back home, I slumped on the couch. I could have turned on college football, but I wasn't into it much this year.

I kicked off my shoes and scrolled through streaming options. Looking at the Marvel selections — Corey had gotten me hooked — I saw Chris Hemsworth. I turned the television off and went to the bedroom. Stripping all my clothes off, I masturbated for the ninth day in a row. I usually didn't during the daytime, but I lusted after Thor's hammer from time to time. I was just pleased that I hadn't envisioned Cooper in weeks.

After I came, I fell asleep, the cum rag in my hand.

 

—

 

Carter and Layton had each driven their own cars since it was hours before they went to work. I ducked out of the office a few minutes early to beat the lunch crowd.

We walked into JG's Hot Chicken and stood before the counter, reading our choices of heat levels. Fast food made it easier for me to get back to work in time.

The choices started at mild and medium. After hot, the heat range went to hot damn, inferno and the apocalypse. As intrigued as I was, I stayed at "hot." Carter and Layton opted for "hot damn."

"Do you both work tonight?" I asked.

"I do," said Layton. "My days off are Sunday and Thursday."

"I don't," said Carter. "I am lucky enough to have both days off in a row."

"Sundays are dead, huh?"

"Yeah. No DJ. Just the front bar," said Carter. "Unless it is a holiday weekend."

"Do you two always get to work together?" I asked.

"More times than not," said Layton. "It varies. The two of us usually open the front bar, but the back one changes up as hours get on later. We like working together."

They seemed to. I remember Carter telling me the two of them dated years ago. Heaven knows I knew the awkwardness of work relationships that didn't work out.

"Lorenzo asked about you last Thursday," Carter said.

"Oh? I thought he had been avoiding me."

"He probably has. He used to come in on Wednesday nights a lot."

"Great. Now handsome men are steering clear of me."

"He likes you," said Carter.

"He won't show it though."

"You two have kissed!" Layton argued.

"Inside the bar. Outside of The Black Stallion, he won't do anything."

"You've asked?"

"Yes. No dinners. No `his' place. Nothing in public. I like him, but I need a relationship, not just kissing at a bar and sneaking around for sex."

"Have you been sneaking around?" asked Layton.

"No. I'm not going to do that. If he was willing to give us a chance at a normal relationship, then I'd go for it. But he's afraid of a normal relationship."

I watched Layton swallow more and more water.

"Damn," he muttered.

"Hot damn?" I asked.

"They are pretty fucking hot," Carter chimed in.

"Mine aren't bad. For `hot,' there is only a little heat."

Carter broke me off a piece of his chicken tender. He fed me from his hands. I chewed it.

"That's pretty damn hot."

"What would have been hot is if you had licked Carter's fingers," Layton said.

I grabbed Carters wrist and stuck one of his fingers in my mouth. Carter played along. I sucked Carter's finger sensually.

"Like that? Does that get you hard Layton??" I joked.

Carter roared, but he looked around to make sure we hadn't drawn attention to ourselves.

"Welll, it was quite erotic. Two of my sexiest friends licking each other is quite a turn on."

"It was a finger," Carter said, rolling his eyes.

"I don't know," I said. "I can do pretty amazing things with a finger."

The three of us burst out laughing again.

It was nice that Layton called me sexy. The two of them were incredibly handsome. I didn't like Carter's tattoos, but he had a nice body. His coat was hanging on the back of the chair. He was just wearing a T-shirt, so I could see all the ink down his arms. It all still baffled me why someone wanted to do that to their skin, but I didn't look down on anyone who wanted to do so. It was their style, their life. It just wasn't me. Layton was just a beautiful sandy blond. It was more of a darker blond than Cooper was, verging on light brown. He was yummy all the same.

I'm glad I had new friends to fill the void of those I'd lost.

But why had I lost them? They didn't walk away from me; I left them. The whole coffee group was associated with Cooper. I couldn't stay in that circle.

If I had asked to meet them at other times — like I was doing here with Carter and Layton — would Emory or Brad have met me? I had let other friends slip to the wayside once Cooper and I became a couple for those first two years. It wasn't like I could only be friends with gay people. I could build solid relationships with straight people too. Ashley and Tanya fit into that at least.

Perhaps that was the way to go. Maybe I did need to volunteer somewhere. Join people for a common purpose instead of trying to find Mr. Right. That was going to be a New Year's resolution.

"Mitchell?"

`Hm?"

"I thought we lost you," said Layton.

"Ah. No. Just deep in thought." I looked at both of them. "Do you guys ever volunteer to do anything?"

"Like ... regularly?" Layton asked. "Not really."

"I do," said Carter.

"How do you find something to do?"

"Why are you wanting to?"

"I don't know. Just thinking. I feel like I need to widen my circle of friends. Beyond gay friends."

"We're not good enough," Layton jabbed.

"Oh, trust me. You guys are great. I love you guys. But ... don't you have straight friends?"

"Aw. He loves us," Carter said.

"Well ... I do."

"To answer your question, yes, I do," Carter said. "I have a straight friend who is a coach. The past two years, I have helped kids play baseball in an afternoon program following school two days a week. Two days a week, I volunteer at the hospital taking meals to patients."

"Really? They let you do that?" Layton asked. "How come you never told me that?"

"It didn't come up, I guess. It's simple work."

"I like that you volunteer your time," I said.

"It's only a few hours a week. In the winter months when the kids aren't doing outdoor sports, I have a friend with the VA. My dad was a veteran. I pitch in driving veterans to doctor's appointments when they need help."

"Jesus Christ!" said Layton. "Are you applying for sainthood!?"

"No. Just filling time."

The way Carter answered seemed like something was below the surface. He didn't look directly at either of us. Had it just been the two of us, I might have asked more, but the three of us licking hot sauce off our fingers didn't seem the right time for a deep dive.

 

—

 

Thursday afternoon. I had enjoyed more time talking to Carter and Layton at the bar last night. Between the holidays and friends, I had found myself enjoying life. I wasn't moping around in the Cooper-less void like I had been for so many months this year. Dare I say it? I felt happy. I had even helped Ashley and Tanya decorate our floor, or at least with as much time as I could devote to it. They appreciated me getting on the ladder. I actually found myself humming Christmas carols in my head for most of the afternoon.

As I finished up the report I had been working on all day, my phone rang.

Logan!

"Well, hey. How are you?"

"I'm good," he said.

"I miss you. I kind of miss our sessions."

"Uh-oh. Is anything wrong?"

"No. Nothing like that. I'm actually feeling happy. But ... I liked seeing you every week. I miss you."

"What a kind thing to say. Thank you. Frankly, I – I feel the same. It was a treat to see you each week."

"Thanks."

"But ... you're in luck. Or we both are. Maybe. Do you have plans Saturday night?"

"This Saturday? No."

"How would you like to be my date?"

"Um. You're married, remember?"

Logan laughed. "Nate and I do this Christmas dinner every year and-"

"Seems a little early."

"It always is in early December. People get busier closer to the holidays. Spouses have office parties. It's just easier early in the month. It's a $200 plated dinner."

"Holy fuck! What are they serving?"

"It's a fundraiser. Half the money goes to health services at the hospital. But it is catered by Lawrence Creek. It's always good."

"So...?"

"Nate and I had purchased our tickets. He was called away today. He has to fly to Dallas tomorrow. Apparently, a colleague who was supposed to speak at a conference this weekend got really sick, and Nate is taking his place. I'd hate to see the dinner go to waste. Will you join me?"

"That all sounds nice, but ... what do I wear?"

"A suit you wear to work will be fine. It's a dressy affair. Occasionally, a couple will come in Christmas apparel and people will say, `Oh, don't you look festive,' but some of them are really thinking `quaint.' Everyone is pretty dressed up."

"You doctors are a snooty lot, I suppose."

"Oh, bite me. Do you want to go or not?"

"Are doctors allowed to say, `bite me'?"

"Doctors, no. Friends, yes."

"I'd love to spend time with you, particularly when we're not talking about my problems."

"I'll text you the info."

 

—

 

Upon arriving home and changing into lounge pants for the evening, I felt content to be lazy and comfy for the night. I stared into the fridge, wondering if there were any leftovers or something I could throw together. I didn't feel like going back out.

A small salad and a can of soup rose to the top of my available options.

My phone rang. Again. The screen said Arlo. Wow.

"H – hi," I answered. "Arlo?"

"Yeah. Hi, Mitch. It's me. I received your Christmas card. It was nice."

"Oh. Well ... thanks. Good. I kind of enjoyed sending them out. Sort of old school, but I liked doing it."

"I told Seager who you were."

"I'm glad you two are still together."

"He's the love of my life."

"That's totally awesome. Even over a decade ago, I hoped you would find the right person."

"We were wondering if we could invite you over for dinner. This weekend is too short notice, but ... would you be able to next Friday?"

I walked over to the calendar. "I think I'm free. Yep, sure. Sounds nice."

"We're about twenty minutes outside Jackson Bend. I'll text you a time once we figure out what we're fixing. Ha."

"That sounds really nice. It will be great to see you again, Arlo."

At least I hoped it would. Since he was the one that made me see sparks, would it bring back weird memories? Surely, I could enjoy a dinner with his partner and not obsess over sex from the past. My feelings about Arlo were cut in so deeply; he changed my life in certain ways — but not necessarily for the better. Chasing after sparks — or a dick like his that I thought might make me see them — caused me to lose Cooper.

I set my phone down without even thinking. I exhaled. My sessions with Logan should prepare me for that visit. But what if it doesn't? They were just memories. It couldn't be that difficult. It would be fantastic just to see him again. I didn't need to make it weird.

 

—

 

I received two Christmas cards on Saturday. One was from my parents; the other one was from Kenneth and Graham. How nice.

I glanced around the living room of my apartment. Did I hang them or place them somewhere? I wanted to give them an air of importance instead of just letting them lay on the counter. My apartment looked very UN-holiday-esque. I had a wreath hung on the door; that was about the extent of it. I didn't have a lot of space, but surely, I could have something that contained an iota of festivity.

Fifteen minutes later, I was at Wal-Mart. I wheeled a cart to the self-checkout and scanned three items. Everything was full price, so just a few things would have to suffice for this year. I'd pick up something else after the holidays at fifty percent off for next year.

Once back home, I draped the artificial garland along my short mantel. I placed the poinsettia on the coffee table and stood my two cards next to it. With minimal effort, I ripped open the taped box and pulled out a three-foot fiber optic tree. It looked too short just aside the fireplace. It needed something. Mom would know what to do, but I wasn't driving fifty minutes just to see if she had something.

It was a shame the box it came in was just a bit too long. I could have covered it with a blanket and let it raise the tree, but that wouldn't look quite right. I looked in my storage closet on the patio. I still had a couple of boxes from the last move. One said "dishes." It was currently empty, so I used some tape to seal it up. In the hall closet, I had one roll of wrapping paper leftover from my gifts to my parents last year. It took me a few minutes, but I made sure to get my creases crisp. The box looked rather sharp from a wrapping perspective. I impressed myself. A minute later, it was placed next to the fireplace with the tree atop. Once plugged in, it made me smile. Simple as these few objects were, there was just a touch of Christmas to my place.

Holy crap. I surprised myself. I was happy.

I was happy.

 

—

 

"You. Look. Sharp," Logan said.

"Well ... thanks. I came from the office for our sessions. You've seen me dressed up."

He opened his arms, and I stepped into his hug.

"You must have left your jacket in the car then. You didn't even come in wearing a tie. Maybe once."

"Yeah. I guess I took those things off before coming into your building. Not that I wore a jacket and tie to work every day."

"Well, you look great. I'll be very proud to have you as my date."

"No one will think you and Nate broke up, will they?"

Logan laughed. "Let's hope not. Surely, they will ask. But ... oooo ... wouldn't it be fun to be the talk of the party."

"Please, no. I don't need any attention drawn to me."

Logan laughed harder.

"Want anything to drink before we go?"

"Uhhh ... won't there be drinks there?"

"Expensive ones."

"Ah. Do you have beer?"

"No, I'm sorry. I have wine or Nate's scotch. Or tea."

"I'm not a huge wine drinker, but I'll have a glass."

Logan always looked professional during our sessions, but his apparel just seemed a bit fancier tonight. Not that it was a tux.

"You look quite nice yourself."

"Thank you."

His suit probably cost way more than mine, but I had worn my best one. I didn't want to stand out among the snooty medical profession. Not that Logan was a medical doctor, but the mix included them.

He set a glass before me.

"Guess what?" I said.

"Go on," he said.

"I'm happy."

"Well ... good. I'm glad you're here."

"No. I'm happy."

He sat next to me and put a hand on my knee.

"That makes me happy too."

"I know you're not on the clock or anything, but I wanted you to know."

"Good for you."

"I realize that things won't always be glorious, but ... I've thought about dating, I'm really getting into Christmas-"

"Love your card."

"And – and it feels like I have just let go of so much ... shit that was weighing me down. Is it a weird thing to say that I feel ... lighter??"

"Sounds happy to me." He hugged me again. "Good for you." He kissed me on the cheek.

When I was a patient, Logan kept his affection to himself. He didn't allow our close friendship to show itself openly. It was nice to enjoy his company as a friend again. The dinner outing should be fun.

He drank his wine faster than me. I had learned to like it "okay" in the business dinners I had attended. This was probably Chardonnay, which wasn't as sweet as some I liked better. I still didn't want it to go to waste.

Logan went to get something from the bedroom. As I looked around his living room, I was quite impressed at how lovely a home he and Nate had made for themselves. The Christmas overload in this house made my attempts look very understated. But I was still happy with my efforts. Even if Cooper and I were together, I'm not sure we'd decorate this much.

They had seven cards on the mantel so far. I saw mine among them. It made me smile.

"I have the tickets. Let's go," Logan said, re-emerging.

"I am so very glad you could join me tonight. It wouldn't have been nearly as much fun by myself," he said, starting the car.

"I'm sorry Nate couldn't come."

"Yeah. Well. We do stuff together all the time. This will be more fun. We haven't done anything as friends for a long time."

"Nope. I was just your screwed-up patient."

"Don't say that. You were someone strong trying to get back on track. Give yourself credit."

"I am trying to allow me to forgive myself. I – I – I can't ever justify what I did to Cooper, but ... I'm trying not to let it define me."

"You are worthy of being loved, Mitchell Sanders."

"Maybe someday," I sighed.

The entrance drive to Avenue of Oaks Country Club was long. Even with no leaves, I could tell the trees lining the drive were beautiful. For Christmas, the trunks were wrapped in lights. The trees closest to the country club had lights draped in the branches.

The building was swagged in garland. Beautiful wreaths were on the door.

A valet took our car. I never liked valets. They just seemed like a "forced" convenience. I'd rather park my own car. It was a money grab, in my opinion, but people who were members here probably had money to burn.

The foyer was lush with poinsettias and a large Christmas tree. It was nice.

"Let's get a selfie," Logan said. "We can send it to Nate."

We stood next to the tree, and he snapped off a few. Another couple came in and offered to take a picture for us. That let us get the whole tree in.

"Text that one to me, please," I said.

Logan presented the tickets to the door greeter. As if anyone would question the honesty of such patrons (I thought to myself).

"Do you know all these people?" I asked, seeing about seventy or eighty people in the room. They were spread about. I counted the tables. Each seated eight, and there were twelve tables. It would appear there would easily be more than a hundred people.

"Mmm, I've probably been introduced to at least two-thirds, but I could probably only tell you half the names of people here."

"Logan, how are you?" a woman behind said.

"Mary Ann, hello. Merry Christmas. I'm well. And you?"

"Much better after the surgery. Merry Christmas to you. Where is Nathan?"

"Believe it or not, he was called to speak at a conference this weekend. He just found out two days ago." Logan turned to me. "I'd like you to meet my friend, Mitchell Sanders. He's my fill-in date for tonight."

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking her hand and then her husband's, who introduced himself as Arnold.

"Tell him we missed him," Mary Ann said.

"Will do."

"Here," said Logan. He handed me a red ticket.

"What's this?"

"Wine will be on the table at dinner, but there is a bar beforehand. One drink was included. It's a cash bar after that."

"Ah."

Logan slipped into the restroom leaving me adrift in a sea of fish I did not swim with. I lined up at the bar. When it was my turn, I saw Michelob in a bin of ice. That sounded good to me. It was probably a waste of a bar ticket, but that's what I wanted.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Dr. Hank Malone," said a man standing near me.

"Mitchell Sanders. Nice to meet you."

"So ... do you have a practice in Jackson Bend?"

"Oh no. I'm just accompanying Dr. Horwood this evening."

Logan walked up. "So, are you picking up people already?" he asked me.

I shot him a scowl. "Of course not, Hank just introduced himself to me."

"Hi, I'm Dr. Hank Malone."

"This is Dr. Logan Horwood," I said, almost mocking Hank's insistence of inserting doctor in there.

They shook hands.

"Enjoy your evening," I said, and then gently grabbed Logan's arm to prompt him to move along.

"What?" he whispered to me.

"A total snob. Avoid him."

Logan snorted.

"Loooo-gan. How are you?" an obviously gay man said and then embraced my friend.

"Diederick, I'd love you to meet my close friend Mitchell."

"My. You are a handsome one. It's nice to meet you, Mitch."

We shook hands, but I wouldn't have been surprised if he had grabbed me into a hug.

"You aren't ditching Nate tonight, are you?"

"No. He was called away for a conference."

"Well, congrats on snagging a beautiful beau for the night."

Diederick sauntered on.

"Wow," I muttered.

"Don't mind him. He's such a flirt."

I really didn't want to meet anyone else, but I was introduced as Logan's "close friend," "one of my closest friends," and after his second drink, "my closest friend." I was moving up as the night went on.

Once it came time for dinner, we took two chairs. Logan nudged me over, indicating we should make sure couples could sit next to each other.

I didn't feel the need to initiate conversation, but the three women at our table had beautiful holiday dresses.

"Ladies, you look appropriately beautiful in your Christmas reds. Lovely."

"Thank you ...?"

"This is Mitchell Sanders, my dearest friend."

I cocked my head at Logan. I kept moving up in the world.

"Where's Nathan? Or have you replaced him with Mitchell?"

"Just for tonight," Logan said. "He's at a conference."

The evening was getting repetitive. I was ready for food. I wasn't having a terrible time, but I did long for Layton and Carter so that I could mingle with friends.

A carafe of white and red was placed at the table by the service staff. Logan poured us both a glass of red.

There were table tents of the evening's menu.

 

Salad

Mixed greens / pistachios / prosciutto / dried cranberries / gorgonzola
white balsamic

Dinner

Prime rib with fresh horseradish
Chicken Diane
Fingerling potatoes
Asparagus

Dessert

Cheesecake with fresh cherries and pecans in maple glaze

 

Yum. I could do this.

I took a drink of my wine. It was dry; I wasn't a person who could determine what it was, but I sipped it.

Salads came along with baskets of assorted breads. They looked fancy. As people began eating, conversation lightened.

"This is delicious," I softly said to Logan.

"It is. These dinners are usually wonderful." He took a drink of wine. He was halfway through his glass. "I'm so glad you came," he said to me.

"Me too."

He pushed his shoe into mine. It was subtly flirtatious.

Ten minutes later, plates were cleared, and servers brought out the main course. It smelled heavenly. I was impressed that all eight plates were placed on the table at the exact same time. Sharp. As we were taking our places earlier, one of the women had placed a small red ornament in front of her setting. When the dinners were served, I noticed she received salmon instead of prime rib. I assumed it was specially ordered without red meat. At a nearby table, there was a green ornament. I had a hunch it would be a vegetarian meal.

The whole thing was above my pay grade, but I was finding it a great experience.

Servers were attentive. Every person at the table commented on how much they were enjoying their dinner. I wholeheartedly agreed.

Logan reached for the carafe.

"Is it okay if I drive afterward?" I softly asked him.

"Um. If you think that's best."

"I do."

"No worries." He topped off his glass.

Several minutes later, when he lifted his fork, it took him a second to focus on how to slice the cheesecake. Logan was major buzzed. I hoped the others didn't notice.

During dessert, remarks were made by a gentleman a few tables away. Logan pressed his foot into mine again. He patted me on the knee. It was a weird mix of signals that said, "thank you for being with me" and "I want you." It was too awkward. I shifted my chair back. He didn't seem to notice. Anything.

I drank coffee. He finished his wine. That was three to four drinks there, not to mention the one from his house. The servers took the carafes, for which I was grateful.

Several people told us goodbye and instructed Logan to tell Nate he was missed.

As we got to Logan's car, I didn't say anything. I just reached out my hand. He placed his keys in them.

Inside, he commented, "I assume you feel I am not okay to drive."

"Do you FEEL okay to drive??"

He paused. "I'm glad you are doing it."

It was about fifteen minutes back to his home. We didn't say much at first.

"I am so glad you came with me tonight."

"I enjoyed it. Thanks for asking me. It's a shame Nate missed it."

"Hmm. I suppose."

"What's that mean?"

"I enjoyed it more with you."

That was concerning.

"Is everything okay between you two?"

"Oh, yeah. We're good. We love each other. Nothing's wrong." He paused. "But ... we've fallen into a rut. Everything's ... the same. I had a much better time with you."

"Okay."

It was silent for a few minutes. I didn't know how to respond, so I just remained quiet.

"I noticed I moved up your hierarchy of friends as you continued drinking."

"How do you figure?" he asked.

"I went from `my friend' to `a close friend' to `my closest friend' to `my dearest friend.' One more drink and I would have been your other husband."

"Pfff!" He chuckled. "You ARE a dear friend."

We went several more minutes of not saying anything. I enjoyed looking at Christmas lights in the nicer neighborhoods. I figured all these people paid companies to hang lights for them. Perhaps I was just too judgmental. It was still quiet.

"I'm sorry I didn't say `I love you' in college, Mitchell."

"Logan, that's ancient history. Don't worry about it."

"It troubles me that I gave you pain. I'm sorry. I really am."

"If you need to hear the words you're forgiven, you are. That's more than a decade in our past."

"You know I love you though, right?"

"Yes. Of course, it means something different now than it would have back then."

"Right," he said, staring out his window.

We didn't say anything else until I pulled into his driveway. We both got out and I handed him the keys, which was rather comical since the car was keyless. I didn't actually need them in my pocket.

"Thanks again for coming. You made it great," he said.

"I didn't do anything. I just accompanied you."

"You were great company. It was fun to spend time with you."

"It has been a while since we've done something."

We hugged. Before releasing me, he placed a sloppy smooch on my cheek. I hadn't seen Logan this overly affectionate since ... since college. But then again, he was fairly close to being intoxicated.

We said, "Good night," and I drove home in my middle-income car.

 

—

 

Sunday morning was cold. It was noticeably colder than the days prior. I poured myself a second cup of coffee wondering if the "chance" of snow would actually materialize. Staring out the patio window of my apartment, the scent of coffee wafted through my nostrils. I wondered if Cooper, Emory, Larry and Corey were having coffee at Joe. Even though I only did that for a few months, I liked Sunday mornings even better because of it.

I took a sip. Coffee even tasted better there.

I pictured Brad sashaying saucers of cinnamon rolls to our table. As much as I had made several steps forward, I was still paying the price of cheating on Cooper. The world would never let me forget. Something simple like coffee was a reminder. I missed my friends. I liked my new friends, but it was a shame I had to leave the old ones behind.

Right?

I wasn't sure if reconnecting would be possible. Larry would always be there. It would be awkward for me; it would be awkward for him. Cooper would be in the middle.

Maybe I could ask Emory if it would be possible.

Nope. It would just be too weird.

My phone rang. It was Logan.

"Good morning," I answered.

"I'm not so sure."

"Oh? What's wrong?"

"Last night. I'm trying to remember what I said."

"What do you mean?"

"Was I ... inappropriate in any way?"

"Not necessarily. Slightly flirty here and there."

"Oh, gawd. My head is pounding."

"I had a good time."

"Apparently, I did too, considering how my temples are throbbing."

I laughed.

"Mitchell, I do appreciate you going with me. I'm sorry if I was a shmuck."

"Only I noticed." I laughed out loud.

"Great. Thanks." He groaned. "Don't laugh so loud."

"Have you heard from Nate?"

`Yeah. He gets back tonight."

"Give him my best."

"Will do. I wish you and I could do more things again. We should get drinks sometime."

"How about you and Nate joining me at The Black Stallion on Wednesday night? It's my new routine. I'd like you to meet my friends."

"Sure. Just don't let me drink too much."

"There's a Panda Express down the street. Do you still like that? Or is that too common for you?"

"Oh, bite me, Mitchell. You know I'm not like that."

I laughed again.

We set a time for 6 o'clock Wednesday. It would be good to see Nate. It had been almost a year since I had visited with him.

 

—

 

On Monday, two more Christmas cards came. While one was from my bank, it was still a card. My grandparents on my mother's side sent the other.

 

—

 

On Tuesday, a Christmas card from Cruz arrived. I was up to five! Surely, that was a record for me.

I dialed my parents. "Hi, Mitchy. How are you?" Mom asked.

"How many Christmas cards have you received?"

Mom didn't say anything for a few seconds, then in a sarcastic tone, she said, "How lovely to hear your voice, Mom. I'm doing wonderfully. How are you and Dad?"

"Fine. Fine. I'm great. I'm swell. Truth be told, I'm into Christmas this year. I bought a few decorations last week."

"Oh, nice. Good for you. And we got your card. I'm glad you sent us one."

"Does it make me immature to get excited when one comes in the mail?"

Mom giggled. "I think that makes you a normal person."

"Oh, well goodness. We can't have that."

"You're so silly!" She paused. "It looks like we have seven so far."

"I'm up to five."

"It's not a contest, dear."

"I know, but ... I've never had five."

I could tell my mother was smiling even without her saying anything. "You sound happy, honey."

"Mom, I am. Part of me still says I don't deserve to be happy, but-"

"Oh shush. Everyone deserves to be happy. You're a wonderful man. I'm proud to have you as my son."

"Thanks, Mom."

After hanging up a couple of minutes later, I wrestled with her words. I wanted her to be proud of me. But wouldn't she be more equipped to be proud of her boy if he hadn't cheated on his partner? If Dad ever cheated on her, would she ever be able to use the word proud regarding him??

"Stop punishing yourself, Mitchell," I mumbled to myself.

I let the melody of "Sleigh Ride" run through my brain to restore my good mood. Placing the new card on the coffee table, I smiled again. I felt seven years old. I was okay with that.

 

—

 

I darted into the house to shed my jacket and tie. I then decided to put on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. I thought the navy one looked sexy on me, in a casual way.

Thumbing through the mail, I saw most of it was junk. Then I gasped. It was a Christmas card from Cooper.

My thumb ran under the edge but couldn't get it right. I reached into a drawer, scrambling for a letter opener. My hands almost shook getting it open.

It was a picture card. Cooper, Larry and Corey all had signed it. I placed it on the counter and just stared at it. Cooper had sent me a card. COOPER had sent ME a CARD.

Corey looked so much bigger now. Cooper had said he was growing since he entered high school. Larry looked handsome as ever. Even though he signed it, I wondered if he knew Cooper was sending one to me. Would he object?

"Fuck!" I realized I would most likely see Larry at the staff party Saturday night. An adrenaline-coated spear pierced my chest. Damn.

Was I ready? Would I be able to face him? Would he want to see me? Would he hate me ... hit me ... spit on me?

"Calm down," I whispered. Larry had no reason to hate me. He was the one that got Cooper after all. I didn't need to get all worked up needlessly.

It took me a moment to get my heart to stop racing.

I looked at the card again. They were a good-looking family. Deep down, I truly hoped Cooper was as happy as he looked in the photo. Larry was probably pretty close to moving in.

I felt I had taken a few steps forward in the past weeks. As I leaned the card on the poinsettia, I didn't feel like I was moving forward.

"But you're not moving back," I whispered to no one near the poinsettia. I felt it okay to just stay in place where I was.

"I got your card. You all look so nice," I texted.

A minute later: "Great. How are you, Mitch? I know Corey misses you. I'd love to see you again someday. Whenever you feel like joining us for coffee, we still do that."

I texted Corey a heart emoji.

I pulled up to Panda Express at 5:51. Logan pulled up a few minutes later.

"Where's Nate?"

"Ehh. He was away at the conference last weekend. He's still trying to get caught up. He said he was sorry and hopes to see you soon."

"Oh." That was a surprise. "Okay. It's still good to see you though."

As we ate our Asian cuisine selections, I noted happy hour was until 7 at the club. Money didn't seem to matter to him. After taking our trays to the trash receptacles, I refilled my soda and took it to the car.

"It's been years since I was here," Logan said. "You look nice, by the way."

"I'm in jeans."

"You always look hot in jeans."

"Um. Thanks."

Logan had kept khakis on. He wasn't dressed up, but he had dress shoes and a long-sleeved, collared shirt on. No tie. He looked exactly like someone who had left work.

There was a cocktail table close to the bar. Both Layton and Carter saw us and came from behind the bar.

"Logan, this is Layton and Carter. They have become good friends. Guys, this is one of my oldest friends — we go all the way back to college. He was also my therapist."

"Ahhh!" Carter said. "Well, thanks for getting our boy on track here."

"Boy," I said. "I'm probably a few years older than both of you."

"You better be," Layton said. "It's nice to meet you, Logan."

The three of them shook hands. Carter then took our order. I handed him my card to run a tab. Two minutes later, a frosted schooner of draft beer and a margarita on the rocks ("no salt") were placed in front of us.

Logan looked around the bar. It wasn't busy but wasn't dead either. With his nicely trimmed goatee, he would fit into the crowd quite well if he donned a cowboy hat. I started mentally dressing my close friend in western wear. He'd be sexy.

Then I chuckled to myself. Typically, in fantasies, one undresses people.

"I remember my bar days," he said. "As much as this is not my scene anymore, it still feels good."

"Because mid-30s are soooo old."

"Don't be sarcastic. Once you get married, things change. You kind of settle down."

"But ... things are good, right?"

"Between Nate and me? Yeah." He used finger quotes: "Good." He sighed. "We're fine, but ... there are times that I don't want to be just fine. I kind of wish we had a spark or something."

Logan's eyes opened wide. He looked at me in panic.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Bad choice of words."

"You're as adorable as I thought you were in college."

"I don't know about that. I think I've become a dull adult."

"Hardly."

"I psychoanalyze everything. Sometimes I wonder if I see people I know as projects to `fix.' It was nice to actually have fun last Saturday."

"You were having fun."

"I know you think it was the wine — okay, some of it was — but ... it sort of felt like being on a date."

"But dating sucks."

"Sometimes. Once you get your groove, it is very memorable."

"It was one night. How groove-y could we have been?"

"I've known you for years. It's easy for the two of us to fall into a groove. By the way, this margarita rocks."

For the next fifteen minutes, we recalled college hijinks, drunken nights in our twenties, and our first jobs. Carter brought us a second round at happy hour prices before they were cut off.

"I'm very into Christmas this year. It's almost childlike. Is that a sign of something? Wait, don't answer. You're off the clock. I'm not your problem."

"You will never be a problem, Mitch. Never. In my opinion, getting into Christmas is a sign that you are feeling happy. What do you think?"

"I am! I'm buying decorations, and I'm getting all excited about Christmas cards arriving. I wish I had sent them years ago."

Logan smiled. "You are happy. I can tell."

"I owe part of that to you."

Logan blustered. "Hardly. Maybe a little, but healing comes from inside."

"I appreciate you." I hugged him and kissed his cheek. "I'm glad we are friends."

"Me too."

"Hopefully, we can do this more often."

"With or without Nate," he said flatly.

"Does he not get jealous when you see an ex-boyfriend?"

Logan laughed. "If we had been a couple last year, sure. But since we were a thing way back in college, it's different."

"I guess I'm not worthy of being jealous. That's no big surprise."

"No! Don't ever think that. I want you to stop punishing yourself, Mitchell. You can't fix what you did. You can't undo it. So, accept that and move on."

"I'm trying. I just don't know how sometimes. Maybe it is the universe telling me I'm better off by myself."

"Another round, guys?" Layton said, walking up and taking Logan's first empty.

"No. These are strong. I'm already feeling it," Logan said. "But thank you."

I waved Layton off for the moment.

Logan turned back to look at Layton. "He's very handsome. I can see why you like it here."

"It's not because of their looks."

"Bullshit." He looked at the bar. "That Carter is rather hunky too."

"I guess. He has tattoos down his arm though. That's a `no' for me."

"You said you didn't come here because of their looks. Don't judge someone like that for minor details."

"I had a black book of minor details! Remember??"

We both laughed hard.

"I'm kind of worried about our office party Saturday."

"Why so?" Logan asked.

"I'll probably see Larry."

"Larry as in Cooper's Laramie?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I'm just wondering how it will go."

"We rehearsed this."

"I know. I know. It will be a room full of people. I can't imagine him making a scene."

"Or you."

"Anyway, you're not on the clock. We don't have to talk about this."

"I'm not here because I'm your therapist; I'm here because you're my friend."

I smiled at him. Then I looked down. "I just hate that I'm going alone."

"Because ...?"

"They will be so perfect — so Goddamn perfect! — and I will be just so – so – so ... nothing. I'll be the undatable freak no one wants over in the plants."

"Please don't eat — or linger — in the plants. Is that how you feel at work?"

"No. Work is fine. I guess it is just the social setting of it all. Most people will be bringing spouses or significant others, and I will be ..." My eyes closed tight not to let them tear up. "I'll just be insignificant."

"You are in no way insignificant! Look at me. You are a wonderful man. You are worthy of being loved."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm starting to fall for you again."

My eyes darted to his.

"Shit. I shouldn't have said that."

"Logan?"

"I'm sorry. Don't get all freaked out. I'm married. That's not going to change. I'm not going to be unfaithful to Nate." He grabbed my hand. "But Mitch, please know you are worthy of being with someone. You are worthy of being loved." Unknowingly, his fingers interlocked with mine. "When you were coming in for sessions, I started to look forward to them. I looked forward to seeing you. I recognized that I was developing feelings again, but I knew that was just a passing thing — a momentary crush."

"I – I didn't know."

"Of course not. Because I shouldn't have been feeling that. But Mitchell, please know there are many men who would love to have you as a partner. Don't sell yourself short." He looked down at our hands and let go.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say nothing. I shouldn't have blurted that out. It just came out. Damn these margaritas."

I chuckled.

"Has that happened with a patient before?"

"No. It's you, Mitch. I've known you all this time. I just ... slipped back into our groove. I love you. I – I just have to put that love in the right place."

"Man."

"You're kind and fun to be with and sexy and ..." He moved my hand to his crotch. I felt his erection, and then he moved my hand away. "I got hard just telling you about my feelings for you. So, believe in yourself. People will want to be with you. Men will love you. It will come again for you."

I inhaled a long, deep breath. Neither of us knew what to say.

"It was obvious to me at the Christmas dinner," he said. "I just loved being with you. Maybe that's why I drank so much. Clearly, I have things to work on with Nate. I – I – I just don't want you to slip out of my life."

"Maybe we should only do this with Nate along."

"Now you're thinking like a psychologist."

I smiled.

"I'm sorry. I kind of weirded things out here." Logan finished his drink. "Please don't let it make things weird between us. I'm fine; you're fine." He paused. "You're fine, right?"

"Uhhh. Yeah. Just unexpected, I guess."

"Don't dwell on it. I'll sort it out. I seem to continue to complicate your life. I'm very sorry."

"You didn't. Again ... it's just unexpected. We will always love each other in our own way."

"Right. This is MY issue. You have nothing to deal with."

I doubted that was true, but I wasn't as freaked out as Logan thought I was. Someone wanted me. That was nice. Lorenzo wanted me but wouldn't do anything about it. Logan couldn't do anything about it, so I was still at square one.

"Well, now that I killed this evening..."

"You didn't."

"I should settle up and go."

"I've got the tab; don't worry about it."

"You don't have to do that."

"You treated me to an amazing dinner last Saturday."

"Actually, Nate did." Logan stood. He hugged me. "PLEASE don't be a stranger."

"I won't. I'm fine."

He waved and walked away. After several steps, he stopped. He turned around and walked back to me. His hands held the side of my face, and his lips were on mine.

"That was wrong," he softly said, "But I had to fucking do it."

He turned and left. I stood dumbfounded. Carter walked up and reached for our empty glasses.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure."

"Come sit at the bar."

There were several empty chairs. I chose one close to where I typically sat.

"Did I see you kiss your shrink?" Layton asked. "Can they do that?"

"Um ... um ... I'm not sure what just happened."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Carter asked.

"You guys are too busy."

"Lunch tomorrow?" Layton asked.

"Sounds like a plan."

"Another problem is our staff party Saturday. I'm kind of freaked out."

"Not feeling the holidays?" Carter asked.

"Oh, I am. It will probably be the first time I see Cooper WITH his new partner. I haven't seen Larry in a year."

"Do you think he will get all up in your face?" Layton asked.

"That's not like him. What I remember anyway. I just – just – just don't know how it will go."

"Avoid him then. It will be a lot of people, right?" Carter suggested.

"Yeah. Right."

I detected a presence next to me. Lorenzo had pulled out the stool next to mine.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Carter made Lorenzo's "usual" and set it down. The two of them stepped away, but I knew they were watching me.

"I thought you were avoiding me," I said to Lorenzo.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. But at the same time, I was missing you."

"Why so? We haven't really talked all that much."

"That moment that you pulled me out on the dance floor ...?"

"Yeah?"

"I've thought about it every day. Every night. Every night in bed ... if you get my drift."

"Your drift is gotten."

"I miss you, Mitchell."

"We have nothing between us for you to miss."

Layton slipped a pilsner I didn't order in front of me. Something told me he just wanted to eavesdrop.

"We have some sort of a connection because I think about you all the time."

"That's flattering, but ... I don't know why. You don't want to be seen with me."

"You know that isn't it."

"It isn't? Then here's an offer. My office Christmas party is this Saturday. I'm asking you to go as my date. Right now, I'm asking YOU to be my DATE."

Lorenzo took a big drink. He breathed in. His hand clutched my wrist in a death grip.

"I – I – I want to so bad. I do."

"But you won't, will you?"

"I can't," he said almost inaudibly. "Can't we just go back to your place?"

"I need more than that. I need a relationship. As much as I can picture hot sex with you, I can't picture anything beyond that. And ... where I AM — right now — I need something different. I'm sorry."

"Me too." Lorenzo closed his eyes. His face winced in pain.

I knew where he was coming from. It wasn't a position I had ever had, but I wasn't going to judge someone who was just on a particular path on their journey. We were in different places, and that was unchangeable.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Lorenzo moved to the other end of the bar.

I took a huge gulp of beer.

"Crazy night," Layton said. "Are you going to be okay?"

I chuckled, just out of disbelief of how off-track the night had gone. "I'll live."

"That beer was on the house. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Bullshit," Carter said, standing close. "You wanted to hear what was going on."

"I'm just going to feel pathetic going to the staff party alone Saturday."

"Why?" Carter asked.

"Cooper and Larry will most likely be there together. It – it may be pretty tough for me."

"You don't have to be alone. I'll go with you," Layton said.

"You will?" I asked.

"You will? Carter followed.

"What time is it?"

"It starts at 7." I put pieces together in my head. "But ... you work Saturday nights. It's a big money night for you."

"We have a band. The guitarist fills in for us sometimes behind the bar. They don't go on until 10. I can at least go for close to three hours. Is that okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Are you sure?" Carter followed.

"I want to do it for you if you want me to. But I don't mean to just ask myself to butt in. If you'd rather find someone else..."

"I'd love your company, but I'd hate to see you miss those tips."

"I'm fine." Layton clutched my hand. "I want to do it for you."

I glanced at Carter. I couldn't gauge his reaction, but he didn't look in favor of it.

"Okay. I'll give you details at lunch tomorrow."

 

—

 

Lunch with the boys was good, although Carter wasn't quite as up as he usually was.

My brain was a pinball machine with Logan, Lorenzo and Layton bouncing off bumpers in my head all afternoon.

At ten minutes to 5, my cell rang. It was Logan.

"How are you?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning how freaked out are you?"

I smiled. "I'm fine. I think I'm more worried about you."

"God, you're so fucking sweet. Can't you do anything wrong?"

"I've been known to cheat on the man I loved the most in the world."

"True. There is that. But, seriously, Mitch, can you forgive me for being so inappropriate?"

"How do you feel today?"

"Embarrassed as hell. I felt borderline hypocritical having the audacity to give people advice today."

"How are things with you and Nate?"

"Hold on." I could hear the sound of Logan's chair squeaking. Seconds later, I detected the sound of his door closing. "We fucked like rabbits last night."

I howled. "Well, there you go."

"Maybe it took a humiliating confession from me to put a fire under our marriage."

I had a huge smile on my face. "Well, I'm happy last night went well."

"I didn't mess up our friendship, did I?"

"No. I'm fine."

"That's a relief. Thanks for being there for me."

"I'll send you my bill."

"Hey, we were both off the clock!"

At home, I was disappointed that no new Christmas cards were in the mail.

 

—

 

I pulled up to Arlo's and Seager's house. Compared to Logan's last week, this was the polar opposite. It wasn't fancy; it had a very outdoorsman feel to it. It was supremely functional, but in place of gardens were kayaks, fishing rods and tents.

Arlo answered the door. He looked ten years older, but he was still extremely handsome to me. His hair was still long, but not as shaggy as it was back then. In contrast to all the camping gear, he was dressed rather nicely. He had on slacks and a dress shirt. He looked good in burgundy.

Inside, the house was very different than outside. It was well kept. There was a simple Christmas tree in the corner, but the house wasn't overly decorated. It was orderly. It was very presentable and not remotely outdoors-y. They apparently kept two different styles of living separate.

He led me to the kitchen and introduced me to his partner, Seager.

Seager was two inches shorter than Arlo, but they made a handsome couple. Seager had brown hair that was thick and wavy. Arlo still had his toned physique. Seager was more like me — not buff but not overweight either. Fit.

Seager detailed the meal he was fixing. I told him it all sounded nice. Arlo asked if I'd like a beer; Seager noted they had wine as well. I accepted a cold bottle of brew from the fridge.

As we sat down for dinner, I could already tell that Arlo was head over heels for Seager. All those years ago, he thought he would never find the right person. He didn't think he was the type that could support a partner's needs, but clearly, he could. It warmed my heart seeing them together.

"So how did you two meet?" I asked.

"It's not very flattering," Seager said. "Should we?" he asked his partner.

"Mitch knows who I was ... am."

"So, I was camping at the lake, and Arlo had his own tent several down from mine."

Arlo looked at me. "Remember my fondness for the furthest spots?" I nodded.

"I went for a walk. It was a fairly secluded area beyond a grouping of trees."

"Let me guess ... you saw him naked."

"Bingo."

"Yet he insisted he's not a nudist," I grinned.

"I'm not."

Seager and I were big smiles at the expense of Arlo.

"This is delicious, Seager."

"Thank you."

"So anyway," Seager continued, gesturing with his fork. "He was sitting buck naked just staring out into the water. I'm sure he thought no one would take this small trail."

"And you were quiet enough that he didn't hear?"

"He was," interjected Arlo. "Like a wolf or fox or something."

"Ninja," Seager grinned to his partner. He then gave Arlo a kiss.

"Then what happened?"

"He leaned back with his arms behind his head. I was probably twelve feet behind him. It was a clear view of his cock."

"You could have been twenty feet back and had a clear view of his cock," I joked.

"This is such delightful dinner conversation," Arlo grumbled.

"I watched him for a while. It IS an impressive dick, so ... I enjoyed the view. He fondled his cock. It got hard. So did mine. Not that I was naked."

"I did believe I was alone," Arlo defended. "At some point, my head tilted back, and I saw him standing there. I jumped, of course. For a second, I thought I might have to defend myself. And then I saw that he wasn't moving. Just watching."

"I introduced myself," Seager continued. "He said he came up to this spot to enjoy the view. I told him I was enjoying the view myself."

"Soooo ... he obviously wasn't running from me or calling the police. And like the perfect boyfriend falling from the sky, he sat down next to me. I was at ease, but not so at ease to where I lost my erection. It was right there for him to see."

"I remember it well," I said.

Why on earth would I say that?! Good lord, his partner was right there next to him. Seager probably thought I was some creepy pervert.

"'Join me?' I asked," Arlo said. "He sat next to me. I was actually inviting him to strip his clothes off, but he sat next to me. We just talked. We probably talked for a good thirty minutes."

"And his dick was hard the whole time." Seager snickered. "I was tempted to take my clothes off, but ... when you get down to it, he WAS a total stranger."

"I got the impression that Seager was into men. Even though he wasn't naked, his shorts weren't disguising much."

"I don't remember what we talked about at all," Seager said. "I just remember when we got up and Arlo reached for his clothes, I said — get this — `I hope you don't think I'm rude. I should have said this earlier: Nice dick.' Can you believe it?! Looking back on that, it was all just so unbelievable."

"We walked back to camp ... well, the tents ... didn't even have sex that day. I stopped by his tent the next day and offered him a beer. We just talked some more. We kind of hit it off."

"Later that night, I stopped near his tent. He offered me a hit — pot and all that — but that isn't me. We talked some more. A cold front had begun to move in. I went in my tent and grabbed a flannel shirt. We talked about how cold it was supposed to get. I finally just asked: `I wouldn't mind some warm company tonight. Interested?' And, I only have the one bed setup. You remember it, just big enough for two."

I nodded.

"I think we had sex at night, in the middle of the night and in the morning," Seager finished. "We were almost inseparable after that."

"I always thought no one would put up with me after a while. I had never given a love interest the time and attention they deserved. Yet ... Seager had me. He captivated me. I'm not sure I could explain it, but ... I never drove him away."

"After four months, we knew we were the real deal. We both sold our places and found this house."

"Wow. Nice story."

"Not one you can tell a lot of people," Arlo said.

For a moment, Arlo's and my gaze lingered. Our prolonged stare echoed sentences:
Me: I remember your cock in my ass.
Him: I remember my cock in your ass.

We continued dinner, talking about food, Christmas, snow, beer. I noticed my Christmas card magnetized to their fridge, along with two others. Once again, I felt giddy with my token object finding a place in someone's home. Next year I wanted to send out twice as many.

Arlo stood to collect the dirty plates. He placed his hand on my shoulder as he leaned down for my plate. It was simply friendly, but in my mind, it said: I remember my hands all over your body.

Seager was by no means "domestic." He was truly very much a masculine man, but he seemed to be taking over hosting duties as far as the meal was concerned.

Arlo placed plates in the dishwasher and returned to the table.

Seager plated dessert at the counter. I couldn't really make out what it was. I saw him accent the top of each one with a dollop of creamy topping of some sort. A spoon nestled a cherry in the white crown.

"This is a family recipe," he said, placing a saucer in front of me and Arlo. He went back for his own.

"Wow. It looks decadent," I said.

"The bottom layer is sponge cake, covered with tart cherry filling. Then I spread a blend of cream cheese whipped with powdered sugar and Dream Whip over that. The whole thing is dusted in fine chocolate. I just added the decorative top with more whipped cream cheese."

"Yes, please," I said with enthusiasm.

It was spectacular. I told Seager so. He smiled hugely at my compliment, which made Arlo smile along with his partner. I could sense the love he had for him. I was truly happy that Arlo had found the right one.

Our eyes met again. We didn't look away. It was a long stare. It said:
Me: I want your cock inside me.
Him: I want my cock inside your ass.

I felt Seager looking at us. It was momentarily awkward until I felt the same stare from him.

"I have coffee," he said, slowly getting up. Seager had a huge bulge in his khakis.

Oddly, for just us having a meal, there almost seemed to be a sexual tension among us. The air was thick with it.

Following yet another compliment after my last bite, my saucer was cleared. They were all placed in the dishwasher. We continued with coffee.

"It was so nice to send us a card," Arlo said. "I'm happy you remember me after all those years."

"How could I forget you? You – you made a huge impression on me."

"Tell me," Seager said.

How could I tell someone that their partner gave me the best sex of my life??

"I – I don't think I can."

"Great sex?"

"Um. Yeah."

"Arlo is quite skilled in that department. Even after all these years, he knows how to use that amazing cock."

I gulped on my coffee. It was a weird conversation.

"I enjoy giving other people pleasure," Arlo said.

I didn't say anything.

"One of your many strengths," Seager said.

I didn't say anything.

"Seager allows me to share that from time to time," Arlo said.

I didn't say anything.

"We were wondering if you'd be interested, Mitch."

Holy fuck. Was I being invited into a three-way?

I tried my hardest to swallow but I couldn't. I was choking on the absolute nothingness in my throat. My body had forgotten how to breathe.

Seager touched my wrist that held my coffee.

"We were hoping."

"Oh."

"We think the three of us could find it very pleasurable."

"I – I – I'm sure we would." I cleared my throat and breathed again. "So ... you two have an open relationship?"

"I wouldn't say that," Arlo said. "I'm completely devoted to him. But we do like to share from time to time."

"Man. I –" I hesitated. "I'm not sure."

"I'd so love my dick in your ass again."

"Yeah." So would I!! But he was with somebody now.

"Seager could do great things with your cock as well. He's pretty amazing."

I took a sip of coffee. I was FREAKING out!!

"I don't know."

"No pressure," said Arlo. "Just if you want."

Just if I want.
I wanted!
I fucking wanted.
I had thought about sex with Arlo all night.
He was with someone though.
But that person wanted me too.
It was so weird.
But hot.

I wondered if I could see sparks again. But if I could, would that be a good thing or bad thing? If Arlo could do it to me again, would I start chasing it all over again? Would months of therapy be wasted?

I shut my eyes. I pictured Arlo's magnificent cock thrusting in and out of me. I envisioned Seager sucking my hard-on as I was being fucked. I visualized my hand griping Seager's cock. Pulling it, stroking it. All three of us naked. All three of us groaning. All three of us smoldering and sweaty.

I wanted this. I hadn't had sex in months and months and months. I needed to be sucked; I needed to be fucked. I couldn't imagine anything hotter.

"Seager is great fun," Arlo teased.

"I like to ride," Seager said.

 

Derek threw back the bedspread. He pulled me to the bed. Within seconds, his mouth had devoured my cock.

"Ohhhh. Oh, yeah."

I let him suck me a few minutes. It was very satisfying. But I didn't want to take it too far.

I pulled Derek off. He tried to kiss me, but I pushed back. I shook my head no. He grinned. He moved his mouth to my ear.

"I. Need. Your. Mouth. On. My. Cock," he whispered.

"Yeah."

Derek got on his knees and moved his crotch to my face. My head was nestled in my pillow against the headboard. He moved in and out of my open mouth. I slurped and consumed, and it reminded me of Arlo's dick. It felt every bit the same as I remembered. I sucked him for a few minutes, and his groaning told me I was doing a good job. But I needed him inside me, so I couldn't let myself bring him off.

"I should stop. You need to fuck me."

"Ohhh, Mitch. Before I do. I need your long dick inside me. I've thought about it for days."

"You have?"

"I like your long cock. It's fantastic."

"It is?"

I covered the sheets with a towel. I grabbed the lube from my nightstand.

"I like to ride," he said.

 

Derek's words echoed in my head as if being broadcast through speakers.

He said that just before Cooper walked in on us!

That brought me to reality. My hands were trembling.

This was a test!

"I'm sorry, guys. I sincerely — I mean sincerely — want to join you. It's been a long time for me. I can only imagine how incredible the experience would be. I guess I should thank you for the offer. But ... no. I've worked through some issues I've had these past months. I've told myself that I'm looking for something deeper. A connection with someone."

"It's just for tonight," Seager said. "You could resume looking tomorrow."

"I know." I whimpered. "I know."

And why not? I hadn't had sex in ages! The three of us all wanted it. As a couple, they were consenting. It would simply be hot sex. Go for it. It's just one time.

Derek's words, "I like to ride," hit me again. That was just to be one time. I just wanted to see if he could make me see sparks since his dick was just like Arlo's. And that ended in life-changing disaster.

"No." I breathed. "I'm sorry. No."

My hands were still shaking.

"It's fine. It's okay." Arlo put his hand on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't think poorly of us for approaching you," Seager said.

"No. Not if you won't think bad about me for not accepting the offer. Please don't think of it as a rejection of you guys. Heaven knows my body wants to. I have a boner that won't seem to quit as much as I wish it would go away." I looked at them. "I want to so bad and my body is craving it and the whole `just-tonight' justification seems sensible but my brain won't think of it that way because I've been in therapy and right now I'm looking for something deeper and I don't think this will help me and-"

"Mitch, Mitch, Mitch! It's okay, it's okay," Arlo said.

"Six months ago, I would have been the first one out of his clothes. I'd feel better about this if I didn't make it awkward though. I'm not offended or anything. I'm flattered. Can we – can we just go back to enjoying coffee?"

"Absolutely," Seager said. He warmed each of our cups and motioned us to the living room.

With sex off the table, my dick finally cooperated ten minutes later. My two hosts told tales of their travels. I found their visits to National Parks to be of interest. Seager pulled out some photos that had printed for an album.

When we were done with coffee, Seager poured all of us some brandy. I had never had it. I loved its warmth and the flavor.

Arlo became comfortable enough to ask about my therapy sessions. I was fairly open about it. I told him I was optimistic about my progress and had enjoyed feeling happy as of late. He was happy that things were getting better for me.

"If I may," Seager asked. "You said you were hoping to find a relationship. Can I ask what you're looking for in a partner?"

"Are you a matchmaker?"

Seager laughed. "No. Hardly. Just interested."

I sipped on brandy thinking about my answer.

"No one will ever top Cooper when it comes to looks. But that isn't the primary thing for me. I just want to care about someone. I want to be a part of their life. I guess ... I guess I just want to share my life with someone."

"I can totally agree with that," Arlo said. "I never thought anyone would ever put up with me, but ..." He looked at this partner. "My life is so much better sharing it with Seager."

"Sweet."

Surprisingly, after all the discussion of a sexual encounter, the three of us had an enjoyable conversation for more than an hour.

Soon, both offered a hug when it was time for me to drive home. I thanked my hosts for a wonderful evening.

But what an evening! I ran everything through my head on the thirty-minute drive. I felt good about my decision regarding their proposal, but would I regret not going through with it? It was just one night.

When I prepared for bed, I pulled every thread of clothing off. I slipped into the sheets and turned out the light. In the darkness, I fondled myself. I turned down the invitation, but it was easy enough to fantasize about it.

I wondered what Seager's dick was like. Nothing could compare to Arlo's. How long would our sexual encounter have lasted? Would they smoke pot beforehand? Just Arlo? Would I have climaxed fucking Seager or being sucked by either of them? The fantasy continued to paint itself on my brain's canvas. I stroked my cock visualizing the three-way. Three hot men, pleasuring each other. I had never wanted a three-way sex experience before, but in the moment, it was captivating me. Stimulating me. Arousing me. Gratifying me.

"UNGH!" Cum shot up to my chin. Then it spurted out like it normally did.

Shit. Wow. I never shot far. That was a lot of sexual energy pent up.

I needed to get laid. But it needed to be with the right person.

Whoever that is.

 

—

 

Layton opened the door. I felt inspected.

"What?"

"Just seeing what you're wearing. I can wear my white shirt with a tie and some slacks, right?"

"Sure. That'll be fine. It's somewhat casual."

He motioned me in.

"I am pretty sure I have a Christmas tie. Give me a minute."

He disappeared into his bedroom. I glanced around his apartment. It was obvious that I wasn't company staying the night. While it didn't look "dirty," there was clutter in several places. Since we were leaving immediately, I guessed he didn't feel the need to straighten up.

Layton reappeared with a tie and some navy-blue slacks. "Well?"

"You look very nice. You're quite handsome."

He cocked his head and smiled. "Aren't you a nice date."

"You have no idea how much I appreciate you coming with me."

"If it was troubling you, why not just ... not go?"

"It's kind of expected. The firm puts a lot of effort into it. Open bar. We do an outdoor family outing in the summer and then the Christmas party. It's kind of a big deal. I'd be noticed for not being there."

"Okay. Well, I'm glad to go with you."

Before leaving, I noticed Layton had a Christmas tree. Next to it was a snowman tipping his hat. A small group of Christmas cards were in the hat. Mine was in front. I smiled.

The Hilton ballroom wasn't as swanky as Logan's and Nate's party, but it was still pretty enough. The ballroom had an eight-foot-tall white Christmas tree with white lights. Purple ornaments gave it a distinctive look. I liked it. The walls had garland and wreaths to offer the traditional red and green.

I could tell by Layton's eyes that he was doing the math between the number of seats at each table and the number of tables.

"This looks set for 200."

"That should be about right. Six floors to the building, about fifteen to twenty people on each floor, spouses and significant others ..."

"Aww. Am I a significant other?" Layton jokingly said.

"Oh. Well, you ..."

"Relax. I know my role." Layton gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks."

"How do you want me?"

"What does that mean?" I said, confused.

"Do you want me fawning over you? Stoic? Clingy? Quiet?"

"Just be yourself."

"I know I'm not significant."

I turned to face Layton. I stared him in the face. "What you are is an awesome friend. I'm proud to have you as my date. You are handsome enough to make both women and men jealous. And I'm very appreciative of you being here."

He grinned at me. We gave a simple peck on the lips.

"And you'll probably have to hold me together once Cooper and Larry get here."

Layton interlaced his fingers with mine as we maneuvered to get a drink. It felt nice.

Before we could get there, Tanya was all over me. "Mitch! Introduce us."

"Hi, Tanya. This is Layton. Layton, Tanya works on the same floor as me."

"It's nice to meet you. Merry Christmas."

"You too. My boyfriend is ..." She looked around and saw a man walking up. "Here is. Silas."

Everyone shook hands and made small talk. As I had never mentioned dating "a Layton," I knew Tanya was dying for details, but there were none to tell.

We began our path to the bar again. I waved to a few people several feet away. Mr. Shannon was in front of me in the bar line.

"Mitchell! How are you? Merry Christmas."

"And to you, sir. This is Layton. Layton, this is one of my bosses, Mr. Shannon. He's very nice to work for."

"It's a little too late to butter me up for holiday bonuses now, Mitch."

We chuckled.

It was Mr. Shannon's turn to order a drink. "Nice to meet you, Layton. I hope you enjoy your evening."

I knew I had been "seen" by one boss. Two minutes later, I was holding an icy bottle of beer. Layton had a rum and Coke. He said since he was going to work later, he would just have the one.

"Have you ever had any issues being out at work?" Layton asked.

"No. The president's son is gay, and it is well known through the company. It's not an issue in the slightest."

"Do many gay people work there?"

"I have no idea. We don't keep a pie graph." Layton laughed at my joke. "Cooper. Me. We used to have someone named Kris. I think there is a lesbian on the first floor. I haven't met her. My gaydar has gone off on a couple of people in meetings, but I haven't approached them. I just really don't know. I'd say we are probably statistically average. Whatever that is."

Ten minutes later, there were at least a hundred people in attendance. A few had taken seats, but most were milling about.

"Should we take a seat?" I asked.

"May I make a suggestion?"

I nodded.

"If we sit down, this Cooper and Larry will undoubtably sit at the table next to us. Murphy's Law. Why not wait until either they take a seat — so we can distance ourselves — or take the last two seats in a crowded area?"

"Sounds well thought out. Good plan."

I talked with a few more coworkers. I only knew a portion of our company staff. Everyone on our floor knew me, and I had visited with several of them. There were many couples where not only did I not know their names, I wasn't even sure which individual was the employee.

I was on my second drink. I had switched to bourbon and Coke. It looked a little more refined than a bottle of beer.

I gasped. Cooper and Larry walked in. "They're here!"

I slammed the last of my drink.

"Where are they?"

I casually nodded the direction of the poinsettia arrangement.

"Cooper is in the gray suit with the red tie. Larry is wearing the red-and-white sweater."

"Fuck. He's gorgeous."

"They both are."

I looked over the rim of my glass trying to get one last sip to come out.

"I need a drink."

A minute later, I returned with another cocktail and a bottled water for Layton.

"We don't have to go over there," Layton said. "We can just stay away from any of that. No one will cause a scene."

I took a big gulp of my new drink.

"Slow down!" Layton chided. "We haven't even had anything to eat yet."

"Right. Right. I know."

I exhaled. It had been so long since I'd seen Larry. Could we possibly go the whole night without bumping into each other? Would he want to talk to me? Would he threaten me to keep my distance from Cooper? Did he even give a rat's ass about me whatsoever??

"You've met him before, right?" Layton asked.

"Oh yeah. We were friends. Kind of. Casual friends. Cooper and I were trying to fix things between us. Larry was someone in the coffee group. I knew him a few months. Cooper was ready to give up on us because he couldn't get past ... trust issues. I sent him to Logan, you know, my therapist. I was hoping that would help. In sorting out what he was going through mentally, Cooper addressed feelings he and Larry had developed for each other. And ... they fucking fell in love."

"I know that had to hurt."

"For a LONG time."

"I'm sorry." Layton held my hand again.

I stopped staring at them and turned to Layton. "It's just ... they really ARE perfect for each other. I know that. Larry makes him happier than I ever did. That's what really hurts. But ... in these past months, I've – I've – I've accepted that. Dealt with it."

Layton let go and softly hugged me. I squeezed him tighter. We held each other for a minute. I was comforted by his arms around me. They kept me from unraveling.

I let go and gestured to two remaining seats to the side. Hopefully I didn't look like I was trying too hard to avoid Cooper. But the whole building knew our story (without knowing I fucked Derek). A coworker from my floor was at the table, so it seemed fairly natural. I introduced Layton to the other people seated.

As I took the last drink of liquid from my glass, I gazed at the bar.

"Slow down," Layton whispered, watching me. "Pour yourself some water."

Right. Water would be good. I could see wine glasses on the table. I'd have a glass of wine later. I could feel a light buzz starting.

The room was almost full. People had been encouraged to take their places at the tables. Only about eight empty chairs were in the room. Cooper and Larry were about twenty feet away. Cooper's eyes met mine. I smiled and nodded, and then looked away. I swallowed a huge drink of water. My hand trembled slightly as I put the glass down.

What the hell was the matter with me??! Just because Larry was in the room didn't mean I had to be all neurotic. We hadn't approached each other. I might make it the whole night without talking to him. But that would mean I wouldn't talk to Cooper, and that would be kind of cold. Maybe he would understand though.

Servers delivered salad to each person. We were then informed that following salad, tables would be dismissed two at a time to enjoy the buffet. Just for the sake of Layton's time, I hoped our side would be permitted first.

"The salad's good," Layton said.

"Um-hm." I realized my heart was beating too fast. I had let Larry get to me. I glanced at the bar again. "No one's at the bar; I'm getting another," I softly said.

I took a swig of Jack and Coke as I sat back down. Layton gave me a look of concern and caution.

"I'm okay."

The rolls placed on the table were nowhere near as fancy as what Logan's and Nate's dinner had last week at the country club, but they were still suitably attractive.

I finished my salad. I looked at my watch. Layton still had a little more than an hour. We should be fine.

I took a drink. The buzz was getting a bit more pronounced, but I was still fine.

The drinks were running through me. I needed to use the restroom badly, so I excused myself in the pause. Wouldn't it be my luck that the table would be asked to the buffet while I was taking a leak.

My piss stream was strong and lasted a long time. I knew I had consumed a lot of liquid, so no surprise there. As I washed my hands, I looked at my reflection. I looked good. I thought I did anyway. I examined my eyes carefully. They didn't look bad. I didn't look as bad as Logan did last week.

I left the bathroom with others. Apparently, several men were taking advantage of the break. As I reentered the ballroom, I almost bumped into someone.

It was Larry.

FUCK! Damn. No! Damn it! Shit. No.

"Hi."

Larry's eyes were wide. "Mitch. Hi." He paused. "It's nice to see you."

It was?? Why? Hi, I was the guy who fucked your partner for two years before you did. Hi, I'm the turd that cheated on your partner like the relationship meant nothing. Hi, I'm the guy that got dumped because he fell in love with you — damn it. I had no idea what words to use.

Help.

"Oh." I froze. "How ... have you been?"

"Busy. It's always busy at work close to the holidays."

"Sure."

And for a moment, we just stared at each other. My eyes were deeply pulled into Larry's. I tried to read his expression. I couldn't make it out. Did it say:
I'm being nice, but I really want you to stay away from Cooper.
I was hoping I wouldn't have to say anything to you.
Wasn't the salad delicious?
Just so you know, I'm moving in with Cooper next week.
You fucked up so now I get to fuck him.
You're a loser.
What did it say? What was his expression??

Then he looked pained. His eyes welled.

Unbelievably, I found myself wrapped in his arms. In a blink, I was suddenly experiencing a hug that was incredibly unexpected.

He pulled back and gasped for breath. "I'm sorry," he softly said, as a tear ran down his cheek.

I was lost. I was confused. I was stunned. I didn't know who I was.

"What for? You didn't do anything wrong."

"But you still got hurt. None of us meant for things to happen the way they did, but ... but ... everything just happened. I'm sorry."

Larry couldn't stop the tears and he darted to the bathroom.

Holy shit.

I walked back to my table.

Holy shit.

"I saw. Are you okay?" Layton asked.

Holy shit.

I was speechless. I just nodded. I slammed the remaining liquid in my cocktail hoping it was more than just melted ice.

Holy shit. Was I drunk? Did I just imagine all that?

"Ladies and gentlemen, help yourselves to the buffet," a server told our table.

Holy shit. I wasn't sure if I stopped breathing.

"From where I sat, it looked very ... nonconfrontational. Was he really being nice, or did he threaten you in the hug?" Layton asked as we walked to the serving line.

"I – I – I ..." I had lost the ability to speak. "I don't know."

"Are you okay? You're not drunk, are you?"

"Not yet."

The buffet had no red meat. There were three entrees: New England baked haddock in pecan breadcrumbs, blackened chicken and vegetarian lasagna. It could have said hot dogs, Spaghetti'Os and rubber tires. I spooned a portion of each, along with mashed potatoes embellished with bacon and chives, asparagus and a colorful assortment of squash medley. I didn't remember touching a single serving utensil. It just happened. I walked with a plate full of food back to the table in a glaze.

We were greeted by our server with a carafe of wine. People nodded if they wanted any.

"Yes, please," I gasped.

Layton looked at me sternly. "Careful," he softly said.

Our table partners commented on the taste of the meal. I didn't even remember buttering my roll, but there it was. I was shocked and buzzed and confused.

I had a drink of wine. Perhaps it would be a new thing for me because I found I liked the taste of it.

Focus, Mitchell. Layton was with me. I needed to pull it together. I noticed a server had brought him iced tea.

"How's your dinner?" I asked.

"It's good. Delicious. How's your head?"

I pulled back. "Are you asking about my mental state about running into Larry or my alcohol consumption?"

"Maybe both. Are you okay?"

"I think."

"I'm right here with you. You're not alone, Mitch."

He put his hand on my knee. I knew our voices were low enough to where others couldn't hear. I tried to bring myself into reality again. After weeks and weeks of wondering how seeing Larry would go, it came and went, and my head was in a whirlwind that I never would have predicted.

I put my fork down and curled my hand around his. "I'm glad you are here."

My breathing regulated for the rest of dinner. As I sipped wine, I could now feel the effects of my decisions. I wasn't drunk, but I could tell a major difference from when I arrived. How many was it? Five in less than two hours?

"Slow down, Mitchell," I silently whispered to myself.

Layton and I pressed our knees together under the tablecloth. I appreciated his touch. He was exactly what I needed. His presence was nothing "showy" for anyone's benefit, but he had the subtle touches of someone tender and romantic. I wouldn't have made it through the night without him.

We still had more than half an hour before we had to leave. We'd be fine.

Mr. Shannon, Mrs. Winkler and President Bingham stood at the front of the room after plates were cleared. A microphone was handed to Mr. Shannon. My demeanor was calm again, but my head was feeling major effects from the alcohol. As I listened to them talking about the year's successes for the company, I knew I wouldn't remember a thing the next day. I just smiled and clapped with others. Two key employees were asked to stand for major acquisitions this year. I remember the year Cooper stood when he landed a huge account.

Coffee was being offered. I slammed the rest of my wine, foolishly. Layton nodded for coffee as well.

Our server said dessert would be out shortly.

I was no longer hungry, but something sweet sounded good.

I needed to pee again. As I stood, Layton looked at me fiercely. "Uh ... Mitch."

I turned. Cooper and Larry walked up. Ohhhhhhh shit.

I was fine. I was fine. I was fine. It would be fine. Everything was fine.

Except that I was borderline drunk. Not totally but ... not too far off. I just had to keep it together.

"We just wanted to say, `Merry Christmas, and meet ..." Cooper said.

"Oh. This is Layton."

"Hi, I'm Cooper. This is my partner Laramie."

"You can call me Larry," he said, shaking Layton's hand.

I had no idea what to say. I could no longer form sentences. Was English my primary language? Keep it together, Mitchell Fucking Sanders!

"Dinner was nice," Layton said, rescuing me.

"Yes, it was," I agreed. The other gentlemen did as well.

"I wonder what this shindig cost?" Cooper said.

"They don't let you know?" Larry asked him.

"There are some accounts I don't have access to."

We smiled.

"The bar tab is probably something," Layton said.

I was half of it, I thought to myself.

"You both look very handsome," Cooper said. "It was nice meeting you, Layton."

"You too," my date said.

Larry and I looked at each other. He smiled at me. I wondered if he was just as scared as I was before tonight. Was he wondering if I was going to cause a scene? Was he wondering if I was going to tell him to fuck off? I smiled back. His smile got bigger.

He wanted to hug me. I simply said, "Merry Christmas. I hope you two have a wonderful holiday."

He nodded and said, "And you as well." They walked off.

"That went pretty good, didn't it?" Layton said.

I exhaled and then turned to him and said, "You're awesome." I kissed Layton deeply.

"Okay then," Layton said, indicating others at our table were staring.

Right.

We sat down as desserts were being served.

It was a chilled layered chocolate cake with a raspberry glaze in the center. A zigzag stretched across the slice on its side. On the saucer was a circle of the raspberry glaze with a small dot of cream on the top to make it look like an ornament.

"We'll need to leave shortly after this," he said. "I hope that's okay. I don't want to be later than I said at work."

"No problem. I've talked to everyone I wanted to. I've been seen by people who needed to shee me. See me."

Layton locked fingers with me when it came time to depart. I turned to look at Cooper one last time. I made it through tonight. He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back at him, knowing next time would be just a bit easier.

"Give me your keys," Layton said at the car.

"It's that obvious?"

"What do I do for a living again?"

"Do you have to take keys from customers on a regular basis?"

"We call ubers and cabs. When we know they will be in a wreck, we take the keys. Our owner is very adamant about not over-serving. He had a friend in Chicago who lost his entire business in a lawsuit. We're supposed to be on our toes with people who drink a lot."

We had to get back to Layton's place for him to get his car.

"Thank you for coming tonight. I'm not sure I could have made it without you."

"I didn't do anything," my date said. "You would have been fine by yourself."

"Until I got pulled over driving home."

Layton laughed loudly. "If that's my role, then so be it."

"I appreciate you so much."

"Happy to do it. I'm sorry that I couldn't compare to your ex though."

"What do you mean?"

"He's amazing."

"As in ... looks?"

"Duh!"

"Layton, surely you know you are totally handsome. Hot as fuck, to be honest."

"Because you're drunk."

"I am NOT. Okay, just a touch. But I thought you were sexy the day I met you."

"Did you really?"

"You're hot and you know it. Bastard."

Back in his parking lot, we sat in my car for a minute.

"Please come to my apartment. If I leave your keys on the kitchen table, do you promise not to drive until I get home?"

"Uhhh. Okay."

"I'm sorry. I just have to get to The Stallion."

Inside his apartment, he darted into his bedroom to shed the slacks and put on blue jeans. He flung the tie on his dresser. I loved looking at his legs as I sat on the edge of his bed.

"Promise me you won't drive."

"I promise." I then belched.

"Okay. Make yourself at home. The place is kind of a mess. There are chips in the pantry. Popcorn if you want to microwave some."

"I'm not hungry."

"Not that you need any, but beer and wine are in the fridge, but you've had enough. Bottled water too."

"I'll probably crash soon."

"Best advice I could give."

He walked up to me again, and I stood up.

"I had fun. Thank you."

"No. Thank you."

He gently grabbed my face and kissed me. "Get some sleep."

I looked at the clock. "It's 9:42."

"Get some sleep."

And he was gone.

It seemed too soon for bed, but what would I do at someone else's apartment when they weren't there?

The 10 o'clock news would be on shortly. Maybe I'd see if the chips were open.

I looked into the pantry. They weren't, and I wasn't going to be the one to open a fresh bag. I saw some pretzel rods in a plastic container. I snapped open the lid and pulled out one. After one bite, I was thirsty.

I saw bottled water in the fridge and grabbed one. He had two different kinds of wine open. I didn't need any more, but I wondered if I truly was learning to enjoy the taste. I'd have half a glass.

It was less than ten days before Christmas, so the meteorologists were starting to make long-range forecasts for the holiday. Viewers were led to believe that a white Christmas was unlikely, but the possibility of snow in-between now and then was expected, even if the accumulation wouldn't be heavy.

I crunched on another pretzel rod and topped off my glass. Maybe I was a wine drinker now.

I wasn't much into college football this year, but I still watched the scores.

SNL was a repeat, so I just turned off the television. I wasn't hungry or wanting to do something or feeling like ... anything. I was drunk. No, I was almost drunk. I was just very buzzed. Layton's advice of getting some sleep was probably good.

The couch was piled with clothes. I didn't want to sit in the chair, comfy as it was. I wanted to lie down. I went back to his bedroom. I'd just stretch out on top of the covers, and when he got back, he could kick me off.

Lying in the darkness, I realized I needed to pee one more time. Standing up, I lost my balance and fell back on the bed. Very, very, very buzzed.

After taking a leak, I didn't zip up. I stumbled back to the bed and reached down in my jeans and underwear and fondled my dick. I thought of Layton and how great he had been all night. I was too drunk to get hard.

I was out.

 

—

 

"Hey," a soft voice said, touching my shoulder.

I jumped. "Huh?"

"Relax. It's 2:40. I just wanted to let you know I was home."

"Oh?" My head wasn't clear. It took a few seconds to realize where home was. "I guess I should drive home."

"I saw the wine glass in the sink. Let's wait until morning."

"Uhhh..." I was still fuzzy.

Layton rubbed my cheek as I continued to struggle being coherent.

"There was stuff and like laundry and stuff on the bed ... on the couch, I mean. I just wanted to lie down. I came in here. If you can move it, I'll sleep on the couch."

"Ugh. Not at almost 3 in the morning. I don't want to fiddle with that now. Just stay here. You can sleep with me."

"I don't want to be in the way."

"You're my date."

I giggled. My eyes were closed, and I giggled some more.

The light from the bathroom caused me to squint. I could hear Layton peeing. I ran my fingers through my hair trying to stay awake when I heard him brushing his teeth. I didn't have a toothbrush. I wanted to do that too.

I lumbered into the bathroom to pee — again. "Got any mouthwash?"

I was handed a bottle after I washed my hands. A few swishes later, my mouth felt like cotton and Scope. As I spit into the sink, I could see Layton undressing in the mirror. He went back into the bedroom wearing just briefs. As out of it as I was, I liked seeing his fit body. Layton was a catch.

I turned out the light and went around to the other side of the bed. It was a minor victory that I hadn't lost my balance. But I was dead tired.

"I'm sorry I drank too much," I said.

"It's fine. I enjoyed our date."

He kissed me. "Good night."

 

—

 

Layton had his windows very dark. It made sense with his schedule. It wouldn't have been practical to let sunlight come in. I turned to look at the clock. It was 8:10. Although it would have made sense for me to get up, he had only been asleep for five hours. I should have just left. I could have grabbed my keys and driven home. But it felt warm in his bed. And it would have been rather cold to just leave without a goodbye.

 

—

 

I was hard. I felt my cock being touched. But I realized I wasn't touching it. I was being felt. Where was I?

My eyes opened and the outlines of Layton's room came into view in the darkened state.

His hand gently touched my erection, but I was still in a T-shirt and underwear. Not that my boxers were confining my hard-on. I wasn't sure if Layton was feeling me in his sleep or if he was awake. He let go and let his hand slip up my T-shirt feeling the hair in the center of my chest.

"Good morning," he mumbled.

The clock read 9:22.

"Good morning," I said turning to lie flat on my back. "Do you usually wake up this early after coming in late?"

"Sometimes. But usually, I try to sleep until 10 or 11. You were just next to me. I felt your presence. It woke me up."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Layton. I've really been an inconvenience."

"No way. I had a lovely dinner and got to sleep next to a warm body. I wake up with a hard dick next to me. What's inconvenient?"

"Hmm."

I needed to pee. Of course.

When I returned to the bedroom, I could make out his form under the covers of his bed. There was a slight chill to the air.

"If my keys are on the kitchen table, I can get out of your hair."

"Nooo," he whined. "Come back to bed."

"I've had more than nine hours of sleep."

"So what? Be next to me."

I had no plans for the day. Why not? I lifted the blankets and moved in behind him.

"Hold me," he requested.

He rolled to his side, and I moved up behind him. My arm wrapped around him.

"Your skin feels chilled," he mumbled.

Layton didn't have thick hair on his chest. It was light and velvety. My fingertips hovered over his pecs for a minute. He hummed in approval of being felt. I lowered my hand and dared to touch his crotch. His cock was hard in his briefs.

Wow. How long had it been since I felt a real cock??

A wheeze from his nostrils told me he was asleep again.

I pressed my chest to his back and held him tight. My lips gently kissed the back of his neck and I shut my eyes.

I was hard again. Gently, I pressed my cock into his butt. He snored. I held him tighter. I pressed even more into his ass.

I didn't need to wake him. I closed my eyes. To my surprise, I fell back asleep again.

 

—

 

I rolled to my other side. I felt a warm arm hold me. I smiled. I was quite aware of my surroundings. Layton was holding me. Layton wanted me to stay. I was in bed with a man.

I felt his nose nuzzle into my neck. Two lips gently kissed my skin.

"Morning."

I couldn't see the clock. "What time is it?"

"10:50."

"Really???"

"Yeah. So?"

"I've been asleep for almost twelve hours."

"Probably good for you."

"That's half a day!"

"It's Sunday. What do you really need to get done anyway?"

Layton brazenly slipped his hand inside my boxers and felt my dick. I wasn't hard.

"How was work?"

"Good."

"I'm sorry you missed a few hours of tips."

He continued to fondle my penis.

"I did okay."

"Did Carter ask about our date?"

"Oh, you know he did."

He continued to fondle my stiffening penis.

"What all did you tell him? Did you tell him I got drunk?"

"No. Not exactly. I told him you were nervous about meeting your ... past."

He continued to fondle my long penis.

"I was so weirded out about how accepting Larry was."

"He did sort of steal your ex from you."

"No, he didn't. I lost Cooper all by myself. That was all my fault. Those two getting together was just a matter of timing."

"I'm glad it didn't turn into something bad. It was all a lovely evening."

He continued to feel my long, hard, rigid erection.

I turned in his arm and faced him. He let go of my cock.

"I'm not sure I remember everything."

"Do you remember me coming home?"

I tried grasping at threads that were in the back of my mind.

"I don't think so."

"Hm."

"We – we didn't have sex, did we?"

He chuckled. "No. If we did, I would sure as hell want you to remember it." He took my hand and placed it on his bulging crotch. "Want to?"

The immediate answer was yes. Feeling a man's hand on my cock and feeling his hardness was a sensation I hadn't enjoyed in almost ten months.

"It's funny. I turned down sex the night before our date."

"Why?? Was he not good-looking?"

"It was two of them. And they both were hot."

Layton sat up. "This is news. Tell me more."

"I'd rather not."

"Why did you turn it down?"

"I wanted to join them so badly, but ... that's not what I'm looking for."

"Mitchell, you need to stop denying your body what it needs."

"Well, the body has different parts. It's more my heart than my dick."

Layton combed his fingers through my hair — which I loved.

"So, what are you looking for?"

"Something more. When I wake up after having sex, I want to see that person again. And again. And build something."

"Build?"

"One-night stands are kind of empty to me. Sex is sex. That's great. But then after the sugar rush, you crash ... and it's empty."

Layton curled a finger and placed it under my chin, turning me to look at him or as much as I could make out in the slivers of sunlight illuminating the room.

"Do you want to see me again?"

"Do you?"

"I think I'd like that. You're good-looking and you're really nice. I think I'd like spending time with you."

I smiled.

He pulled his boxers off. I slipped my underwear down to my thighs.

Layton grabbed my cock, skin touching skin. I softly groaned, feeling a man touch me sexually again. I reached for him. His dick could slice vegetables.

Our lips met. We kissed and felt and kissed and stroked and kissed and pulled.

Our breathing became heavier as we pulled on each other's anatomy more firmly. Normally, I would suggest moving into a more gratifying position, but I loved him jerking me. My cock throbbed in his grip.

We resumed kissing. I heard the slightest "Mitch" on his lips as I firmly melded our mouths together. My tongue entered his mouth.

We yanked and groped.

The nerves in my cock were electrified. My organ felt so hard, so stiff. It was glorious.

Kissing and groaning, we refused to stop. Layton's cock pulsed and jumped in my grip. He separated our mouths to breathe out. "That feels sooooo good."

I loved hearing him feel pleasure. It was almost a shame that we had little light to see each other. We could make out who was where, what part was what, but it was all about the sense of touch. The feel of fingers offering male stimulation.

He whined and moaned as I jerked him firmly.

"Harder," he softly pleaded. "Ohhhhh yeah."

He stroked my cock as rigorously as I pulled on his.

"Mitchell. Ohhh. Yes. Yes. Ohhhhh. Harder!"

Layton grunted as I felt his cum hit my navel and my arm and my wrist. He kept growling as his orgasm didn't stop.

When his climax ended, he lunged for my mouth in our most passionate kiss yet. He jerked me and stroked me. He wouldn't let our lips separate. I groaned into the kiss. He worked harder, pulling and tugging and rubbing and gripping. I escalated my volume down his throat. I yelled into him.

My mouth had to break free.

"I'm coming, Layton. Don't stop. OHHHHHH! Ungh! UNGH! Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ohhh. Ohh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

I kissed him again. His hand wiped the mix of our male liquid on both our chests. We kissed again. And again.

Then we flopped on our backs. His sticky hand locked fingers with mine.

"I'm sorry. You were probably hoping for more," he said.

I breathed hard. "It was kind of perfect."

"Why perfect?"

I turned to his face, trying to make it out as much as I could with the little light we had. But I wanted to see more. There was a lamp on both sides of the bed. I turned mine on. We could see that our hair was disheveled.

"We've just started off, if that's what you want to call it. I don't want our first time to make true love to be when I've landed drunk in your bed."

"You aren't drunk now."

"But that's the reason I'm here. If ... when ... we do it right, I want it to be right. But this was fun, and it felt great. And I loved it." I kissed him.

He looked at our bodies. "And we're a mess."

"A wonderful mess."

Layton leaned over and ran his tongue through a sticky part of my belly.

"You'll probably need to clean the sheets," I said.

"Oh. They are due anyway. It has probably been a couple of weeks, for sure. And I come home all smelly from work. I hope they weren't foul when you got in bed."

"I didn't notice anything," I smiled.

He held my deflated dick; I held his.

"At least you are on the cleaner side. I always sleep on this side."

We kept our grip and leaned in to kiss again.

"Shower with me?" he asked.

"Sounds nice. But I have no change of clothes."

"We'll figure it out."

We didn't want to leave the bed. Our hands just gently roamed over our each other's body. Our foreheads touched as we looked down watching our hands wander.

"This is nice," I whispered.

"Yeah."

Eventually, Layton had to pee.

We got out of bed, and he strolled into the bathroom. He opened the shower door and turned on the water. He grabbed two fresh towels and hung them next to the shower. Then a never-ending pee stream hit the toilet bowl.

I looked at myself in his mirror. I looked okay. My hair was all over the place, but it was in an adorable, sexy kind of way in the moment. I liked my body. Except my balls. They sucked.

Layton's pee stream eventually subsided into pulsed segments, then final drops. I saw him shake it.

When neither of us were hard, my dick was definitely longer than Layton's. Not that that mattered. I always loved Cooper's short dick.

He opened the shower door and gestured me in.

The warm spray was just a touch too hot, but I got used to it quickly and let out a pleasurable moan.

He stepped in and did the same. For a moment, the two of us just slowly tangoed in the spray, letting all sort of coatings rinse from our body.

Layton was beautiful. Seeing him wet was even more of a turn on. We were in no rush. We resumed touching. Feeling. Kissing.

My eyes closed, I reached for the back of his head. He did the same with me. Our tongues danced in our mouths, sealed with a sensual kiss. It made me hard again. His fingers grazed against my cock and became aware of my new erection.

Layton dropped to his knees and took my dick into his mouth. I knew I couldn't come for a while, but I loved the attention. I reached for the shampoo and washed his hair as he sucked my cock. We both enjoyed it. I grabbed the soap and washed his back and shoulders. Moving the shower head, I sprayed down his head and body.

I replaced the shower head in its holder and pulled Layton up by his armpits.

"There's more of you I need to tend to," I softly said.

"I'm kind of impressed you got hard again so quickly."

I rubbed his chest with suds and worked my way up to his armpits. He raised his arms over his head causing his muscles to appear. Layton wasn't a bodybuilder, but lugging cases of beer and alcohol kept him fit.

I rinsed his armpits and torso and lowered my body to wash his legs. He had wonderful legs. Pillars. They were strong. I rubbed soap up and down them. I rose to get more soap and then made his crotch a cloud of suds. I felt his balls — which were perfect, unlike mine — and groped his dick in the slickness of soapy splendor. His penis began to stiffen in my hand.

"Look who else got hard," I commented, standing.

"I'm surprised," he said, giving me a kiss.

I held both our cocks together in the spray. We kissed.

"That's one of my favorite things," he said. "You'll see."

I spun him around and fingered his crack, rubbing soap deep inside. His hands were flat against the shower wall, as if being interrogated. His hole wanted to be investigated by my fingered probe. Or other things.

"Give me a foot."

His hamstring pulled his right foot back to me. I massaged it and cleaned it, causing him to deeply moan. I did the other foot and soon rinsed the lower half of his body. We were both still erect.

"My turn."

In a similar pattern, he started at the top: hair and face. Then upper half: chest, back, arms, armpits. The crotch got extra minutes. Even the hot water didn't make my balls hang, unfortunately. But I felt long. I felt hard. He turned me to finger and clean my ass. One finger made tiny circles at the pucker of my hole.

"One day," he whispered into my ear. Then his tongue licked my ear and he nibbled on my earlobe.

We didn't make any efforts to wrap things up. We just held each other in the warm cascade, letting our dicks rub into each other, pushing, throbbing.

It was too soon for either of us to reach orgasm, but both of us considered trying. But the shower setting wasn't about sex. It was about touch and exploration.

The enjoyment continued as we toweled each other dry instead of taking care of ourselves.

I stood naked in his bedroom.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Let's find you something."

"My clothes smell like alcoholic sweat from when I slept in them. I could probably wear them home though."

Layton came over and sniffed my neck, inhaling me. "And ruin this perfect clean? Perish forbid."

I held his ass; he held mine. Our cocks, not hard but plump, slow danced. He let go, reaching for a drawer to hand me some briefs.

"It's kind of sexy thinking of putting on your underwear."

"You know it, buddy. My dick has been in them. Think of it that way."

"If I keep thinking of your dick, I won't leave."

"I'm not pushing you out."

I smiled, looking down to put my leg through the first hole.

"But I don't want to think of us as just sexual hookups. I want to appreciate you for who you are."

"Is it okay to be kind of happy that Lorenzo turned you down?"

I chuckled. "So ... are you really okay with me asking you out?"

"I accepted last time."

"Ha! You invited yourself last time. You just told me you'd go with me."

Layton laughed loudly. "I guess I did."

I was handed a sweatshirt. He pulled out a pair of jeans. "See if these fit."

"They are a bit short, but I can fit into them."

"I like you in my clothes."

"I like you out of your clothes, but ... I need to stop thinking that way."

We kissed, both of us now dressed.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Know of a Sunday brunch place?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said.

"My treat."

 

—

 

At work on Monday, I thought about Layton all day. Who knew if we could become a thing. It just felt good to be a part of a couple. Granted, we had one date. Even our sexual contact wasn't that intense.

I just wanted to start things off right.

"Thought about you a lot today," I texted.

Three minutes later: "Same here. Right before I washed the sheets."

 

—

 

Tuesday. I was ready to head home when my phone rang at 5:09. It was Logan.

"Hi."

"What the hell, Mitchell!? Are you mad? My secretary just gave me my appointments for tomorrow. You scheduled yourself for one again!? After all the garbage I dumped on you last week? What were you thinking?"

"I – I've had a lot happen this past week. I need you."

"God. Don't phrase it that way."

"Fine. I just need your counsel. I'm sorting through a lot."

"You're insane."

"Just be willing to listen, okay?"

"This is such a mistake."

 

—

 

"Is ... everything okay?" Ashley asked. "After seeing you with Layton at the party, I – I kind of thought you were in a good place."

I had just told her of my appointment. "I'm fine. I believe. I guess. I just want to do things right with Layton. I thought one more appointment might help."

She smiled and nodded.

As I drove to Logan's office, I knew I would see Layton at the bar following. Granted, he'd be working, but ... I'd SEE him. I hadn't felt this excited in a long, long time. This certainly had to be a good thing.

When I was shown into his office, Logan had a look I'd never seen.

"I was against being your therapist before, but now I am positive this is a bad idea."

"Will you relax," I said. "This is just for one day."

"After all the crazy stuff I threw at you last week, how could you even come here?"

"Oh, shut up and just listen."

He motioned to the couch. As he reached for his notepad, I quickly snagged it and kept it from him. "Just listen, don't write."

"This is a bad idea," he muttered.

After getting comfortable on his couch, and he was "pad-less" in his big chair, I started.

"The last week has been a little bit of a tornado, so I – I – I need to make sure I'm not making any crazy mistakes."

"Everyone makes mistakes, but if it makes you feel better, I made them all last week."

"Okay, let's start there. Yes, you were open with me. That's fine. How do you feel?"

"You aren't here to discuss my feelings."

"In a way, I kind of am. Partly. A little bit. How do you feel?"

"Humiliated."

"Can I ask why?"

"Isn't it obvious? I was your therapist, and during that time I stirred up old feelings for you. It wasn't good. You being here right now isn't good."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No. No, that won't make the past week go away. Mitchell, I'm sorry that I dumped all that on you. Nate and I being in a rut just ... I don't know. You were so nice and handsome and ... everything I loved about you in college. It all just came back when we saw each other every week. I looked forward to seeing you."

"That's kind of sweet."

"More like stupid. I had already hurt you in the past-"

"A long time ago."

"And now, I mess with your head again. I'm married, so ... those feelings should be off-limits. I recognized what they were." Logan whirled his hands in the air. "This is my thing after all. But when the feelings are mine, I have to stay on top of it. And I'm sorry I've made things uncomfortable between us."

"You haven't."

"You swear?"

"I'm fine. Of all the things that have happened, that's the easiest part."

"Oh? I figured that was what you were here to talk about."

"Only a bit. I want to make sure you're okay."

"God, I love you. What else has happened?"

"Everyone wants to sleep with me, and I'm not sure I am handling it well."

"Does that mean me?"

"Tiny bit."

He sighed. "Sure, I had fantasized about it from time to time."

"Me too. But I would switch it around. Lorenzo. Arlo. Thor."

Logan chuckled. "Fantasies while we masturbate are fine, as long as we don't obsess over a person and let it become controlling."

"No. That's not me. I trust you aren't obsessing over me."

"Ha. No. Don't get a big head. But ... I felt myself being pulled in. Those feelings resurfaced. When I recognized them, I tried to distance myself from them. If it makes you feel better, the night after the bar, I went home and ... well, Nate and I were animals."

I laughed hard. I wondered if the receptionist could hear me.

"And Friday night and Sunday afternoon."

"Well, maybe the temporary crush was a good thing. Sounds like the spark you were hoping for."

"Kind of."

"Well, moving on. Lorenzo has wanted to get me in bed, and-"

"Hold up. Have we talked about this Lorenzo?"

"He's not from the book. He's from the bar. He's not out to anyone but he still wants the sex. But not at his place, he won't be seen with another man in public. It's ... it's very constricting. I feel sorry for him. I was hoping he would accompany me to the office party. That scared him. He just wanted to go back to my place and fuck."

"Lovely," Logan deadpanned.

"And then Arlo and Seager wanted to do a three-way with me."

"What!??" Logan grabbed the armrests and leaned forward. "When? This is ... Mr. Sparkes?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Him. And his partner."

"Whoa. This is news."

"I'm not sure if I handled it well."

"How DID you handle it?"

"I turned them down." Logan raised an eyebrow. "Every cell in my body wanted to do it with them. I pictured totally wild sex. I've never ... really ... had ... you know, a three-way."

"I'm sure the vast majority of America never has."

"I hadn't had sex since Sawyer, and I knew how off-the-charts hot it would be."

"What stopped you?"

"That's just it. I felt it was a test."

"Test?"

"I didn't want to just jump in bed and that was it. I loved what I had with Cooper. I want a relationship again. I want to find love. And I knew that wasn't love. It was just a one-night thrill. I could have done it and then resumed looking the next day — Seager even mentioned that. But ... I resisted. I knew I'd feel empty the next day. I'm sure the sex would have been incredible, but ..." I paused and looked at Logan directly. "I want more. That wasn't what I was looking for."

"Afterward, did you feel you had passed some sort of test?"

"Kind of. Yes, actually. My dick was a little pissed at me, but my heart felt I had made the right decision, even though ... I guess I was still feeling alone, I at least knew what I wanted."

"I see."

"And then I wound up in Layton's bed Saturday night."

"WHAT!!?" Logan threw his hands in the air. "I see what you mean by a tornado."

"So, why him and not Arlo and his partner?"

"Because ... I think Layton and I are going to start going out."

"This is Layton from the bar."

"That's him. He agreed to go to the office party with me so I wouldn't have to face Larry and Cooper alone, and ... I got drunk. Ish."

Logan's expression deflated recalling his own drunken experience the week before mine.

"He wouldn't let me drive. He went into the late shift, and I crashed on his bed. The next morning ..."

"The two of you did it."

"Yes and no."

"That's like being sort of pregnant."

"So ... we just slept. But ... we talked. We grew closer. We did a lot of touching. No sucking, no screwing. Feeling. Holding." I lowered my gaze. "Jerking."

"Coming?"

"Yeah." I exhaled. "So, you see, it's been ... busy. But I want to see him again ... over and over. Remember what your dad said?"

"My dad???"

"About marrying someone you date."

"Oh yeah. That. Yeah, yeah."

"I'm trying to avoid hookups that are just empty sex for one night. And I want to see Layton on a regular basis. I like him. A lot. We've been friends for a few months, but ... it feels good to feel ... well, what I feel."

"Which is?"

"I don't know. Happy. Like I'm ... worthy."

Logan smiled. "Yes, you are."

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"I can't disagree with your decisions. In fact, I'm proud of you."

"You are?"

"You've come a long way, Mitch. A LONG way. Compared to the man who was thinking about moving away a few months ago, you seem to have a handle on things. Yes, I'm proud of you. You haven't rushed into anything. You've even exhibited restraint in incredibly tempting situations."

"I think Layton is a good choice. I'd like to see where it goes."

"And so you should."

"Oh, I saw Larry too."

"Goodness! No wonder you made an appointment."

"So, your ego isn't bruised that you were the least of my emotional upheaval right now."

Logan sulked. "Maybe a tiny bit. But yeah. Wow." He looked at me earnestly. "How did it go?"

"Layton was my shield. At first, I just didn't want to be the lonely guy `who used to be with Cooper.' Having someone with me would make me feel better. But if things started to go bad with Larry, I knew Layton would be there."

"Did they?"

"No." I slowly shook my head. "Not at all. Larry surprised the hell out of me."

"How? What did he do?"

"I was so worried about seeing him, it never occurred to me that he could be feeling the same way."

"You think he was?"

"I do. We weren't necessarily avoiding each other but we didn't move toward each other either. On a trip to the bathroom, we bumped into each other, face to face. Our attempts at small talk were pitiful. Eventually he ... he hugged me. He cried and said he was sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For me getting hurt in our ... love triangle, if you will."

"That's kind of unexpected."

"It WAS. It totally disarmed me."

"And if you see him again?"

"I think ... I will be okay."

"Will you be okay if you don't have Layton or somebody else? Is that what made it okay?"

"I don't think so. That's not it. I think the two of us saw each other as ... human beings. People who can hurt. I knew him falling for Cooper was an accident. I mean, who wouldn't? And I had lost Cooper by that point anyway. I don't blame him for anything."

"Right, you blamed me."

"No, I didn't! Okay, I did for a couple of months until I had to accept everything was my fault."

I stopped talking. Logan stopped talking. We looked at each other.

"I am proud of you," he softly said. "You are worthy. It's good to see you find this moment."

"You think dating Layton is a good thing?"

"If it makes you happy, and you both are on the same page, sure."

"And you and I are good?"

He smiled. "If you've forgiven me, then we're good."

"I'm kind of flattered."

"You should be. Guys are lining up to get into bed with you!"

"That's not what I'm looking for anymore."

We talked for the remainder of my session about my feelings about Larry more than those for Layton. Layton was yet to happen. Larry was something coming back.

"Since you're fine, I'll be unprofessional and hug you," he said, before I opened his door.

"Don't stay away from me, okay?" I pleaded, looking into his eyes.

"I won't. I promise. Nate and I are in a good place right now. Better than we have been. I kind of think that's because of you. A wake-up call. Thanks for that."

"I'll send you my bill."

He laughed.

I was going to grab a quick bite at home, brush my teeth and get over to The Black Stallion.

Sorting through my mail, I was thrilled to find: "Christmas cards!"

My inner eight-year-old took over as I opened the latest two. One was from my aunt. The other was one from Carter. Pretty much everyone I sent one to had mailed one to me as well. Arlo and Layton were the holdouts. I had received three at work. My coffee table now had a congregation of cards gathered around my poinsettia. I paused to look at them all staring at me. They made me happy.

But I needed to get to Layton.

Layton.

Beautiful Layton.

I loved feeling this way.

It was early at The Black Stallion. Only about a dozen people were there. I saw both Carter and Layton behind the bar. They were stocking things from the look of it. I lit up seeing him. A warmth swarmed me. I hadn't had that early-butterflies feeling in a long time.

As I stepped up, he saw me, and his face brightened into a huge smile. Mine was crazy big.

Layton leaned halfway over the bar. I bridged the other half. We kissed.

"Whoa! What? Wait! This is new," Carter blurted out.

"Yeah," I said, not letting my eyes leave Layton's.

"When did all this happen?"

"Last weekend."

Carter thwacked Layton's arm. "All you talked about was the dinner and this Larry guy."

"We're kind of seeing where it all goes," Layton said, still looking at me.

When I finally looked at him, Carter looked flustered. It was not an expression of approval. Was he upset that his friend didn't tell him? Or was it something else?

With not many customers, I was able to talk with my friends more than usual. Carter didn't participate as much as usual, but he still inserted some things now and then. I told them about the three-way proposal with Arlo. They didn't know who he was, but the titillation of the story intrigued them. They asked me about Logan and the weird kiss a week ago. We talked about Christmas holidays.

"I got your card today, Carter. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said. "You kind of inspired me to send out a few."

"Well, good." I slid my empty glass to him. "Will you spend Christmas at home?"

"If you mean home as in with my parents ... yes. To me, home is my home."

"Interesting. How long?"

"Since Christmas Eve is on a Sunday, we're closed anyway. I'll drive up that morning and spend the day. I'll come home after lunch on Christmas."

"I'm glad you won't be alone like on Thanksgiving."

"I have Fletcher. I'm never alone. But I'm okay being by myself."

Layton looked at him. I could see a slight touch of concern on his face, but he didn't say anything.

A surprising rush got the bar busy. I didn't get to talk too much more.

Carter handed me my credit card. I reached for his hand and held it in mine for a moment. "I hope you have a great Christmas."

He smiled. "You too."

I left the guys the biggest tip I had all year.

Layton and I leaned in for a kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Are you sure you want to cook? We can go out," he said.

"I kind of want you to myself."

He winked and gave me one more quick kiss.

That night, I didn't jack off thinking about him. I saved myself for the next night.

 

—

 

"I have your clothes I borrowed last week. You can wear them home in the morning."

Layton texted back, "So, I'm spending the night?"

"If there is a Santa Claus."

The next text provided my address and the time of 7 o'clock.

When I left work, my heart was pounding as I got in the car. I hadn't had these dating drum beats in my chest in years. Even in my high school and college days, I wasn't crazy about dating. Once sex entered the picture, it became more exciting. But usually, it wasn't about the date itself; it was then the hope that sex would take place.

Tonight, that was a given, and I hoped it would go well.

Amusingly, I had texted Corey for a simple recipe to fix. He emailed me one of his favorites. I knew I could handle it. I remember it as being one of the first dishes he made for Cooper and me.

Layton was prompt at 7. I met him with a kiss at the door. He was wearing a green sweater, but it wasn't necessarily "Christmas." It looked good on him. I had chosen a soft, long-sleeved shirt. Cold air moved in the door, so I pulled him inside.

"I have salad made, but I haven't started on dinner. I didn't ask, the dish has sauteed mushrooms. Is that okay?"

"I like mushrooms," he said.

We hugged and gave another kiss. "I'm kind of looking forward to finding out more about you."

I gave him a one-minute tour of my apartment. It looked pretty straight. Compared to his, mine was quite a showpiece. I'm sure there were areas I hadn't dusted in months, if not the whole year. Hopefully he wouldn't notice anything like that.

"Nice display of cards," he said, noting my Christmas cards.

"Yeah. I'm so into them this year."

"My mother tapes them around the fireplace," he said.

"Yeah, Mom puts them on the mantel as well." I chuckled. "I'm sure my dad doesn't care."

"Don't you think straight men find it harder to show emotion?"

I thought about his question. "Maybe. I'm sure there are some very emotional straight men. And some gay men probably hide what they feel."

"Carter."

I looked at him as I opened the fridge. "What do you mean?"

"He's my best friend. I'm just not always sure what he's feeling inside."

"You think?"

I handed Logan a glass of iced tea. "It's unsweet. Sugar is on the table if you'd like."

"It's fine. Carter and I shared a lot back when we dated. You knew that, right?"

I nodded.

"When that ended, things were ... strained."

"Which is why he won't date coworkers or customers."

"Yeah. So he says. It took us a few months to get back in sync, but once we did, he didn't seem to share his feelings as much."

"Does he date?"

"Besides his dog Fletcher? Not much. In the past two years, I've known him to go out with three men. One lasted about three weeks. I think he had strong feelings for ... I think it was ... Max. I think. The last guy was only two dates. He told me about all of them, but I never felt he was telling me how he truly felt, even when he broke up with him. I wish he wouldn't keep things inside."

"Hm. I didn't know." I poured myself a glass. "But you guys are good, right? You seem to be."

"I love him like a brother."

"Have a seat while I start fiddling with this. Ironically, I got this recipe from Cooper's son." I stopped and looked at Layton. "I promise not to talk about Cooper tonight. I'm sorry."

"He was a part of your life. I don't expect you to ignore that." I smiled at him. "Just don't compare me to him, please."

My brow crinkled in confusion. "Huh?"

"I can't compare to all that hunkiness."

"You know you're handsome. Don't even start that."

Layton stood and wrapped his arms around me from behind. "So are you," he said into a kiss on my neck.

"Careful. I have knives."

His hand roamed over the front of my shirt. I moaned softly. Slowly they cupped my crotch. My jeans concealed my junk for the most part, but he made them slightly bulge.

"Sit."

He giggled.

Corey's recipe wasn't too challenging. I was just pleased I had all the seasonings needed. I didn't even remember ever buying tarragon.

"Just so you know, I'm not the most skilled cook in the world. For dessert, we're having something very exotic called ice cream."

"Yum."

"I did splurge on Hershey's syrup though."

"Even better. We could have just gone out."

"I know. I just thought it might be easier to get to know each other here at my place. I do have wine and beer, but I thought we'd have tea with dinner. I felt it smarter that I watch what I drink this time."

He chuckled. "I had fun the other night. Don't worry about it."

"It was a strange first date. I was so worked up about seeing Larry." I turned to him. "And I won't talk about him all night either. I got all that out of my system with Logan today."

"I thought you had stopped seeing him."

"Well, his kiss, Arlo's proposition, my drunken night with you, Larry ... it was an interesting week."

"I would say so."

"But I'm not scheduling any more sessions."

Once the main dish was placed in the oven, we sat down with salad. Ten minutes before dinner was ready, I placed bread in the oven to warm.

Layton and I didn't talk as much while eating, but we still made general comments. Outside of the Stallion, we didn't have as many things to talk about. When Carter was with us at our lunches, it was easier. I got the impression that since it was a "date," we were both unsure of what to say.

"Tell me about your family," I said.

"They're okay. I grew up in a nowhere town called Hastings, Nebraska. I don't think there were even 25,000 people there. I thought Lincoln was a huge city when I was a kid. A trip to Omaha, well, you were living the dream then."

I smiled. "What brought you to Jackson Bend?"

"Land. My father bought a piece of land about ten miles south of Von."

"Your family has money then?"

"I wouldn't say that. What money we had went into that piece of land. We never had anything fancy. My father had the opportunity to get it at a good price thanks to a relative. It seemed like a good investment. I was 21 at the time."

"May I ask what it was like to grow up gay in a small town?"

He was quiet. He was finishing a bite of my chicken dish. I could tell he was thinking.

"I wasn't sure I was gay until I was 19. Seriously. I went out with girls in high school, because ... well, everyone did. When guys would go gaga over watching some girl on the schoolyard, I would just roll my eyes and think "whatever." I didn't think I was gay. Girls thought I was cute and-"

"You are. Very."

"And I just went along with it. When my friends and I went to high school football games, I noticed when the players took off their helmets, I liked ... how they looked with their hair all messed up. Two or three of them had great bodies. It's hard to tell with all the pieces and parts of the protective uniform, but ... I could. I looked at them during the whole game. I started thinking about how my body compared to theirs. I assumed all boys did that."

"And I knew for sure I was gay in high school."

"Did you tell your parents?"

"Not until college."

"I didn't go to college right away. When we moved near here, W. Travis was here and I could live at home, and little by little, I got my degree. On campus, I met my first real gay friends. I guess when I saw other men who liked men, I figured it all out. My senior year, I got the job at The Stallion. I could only work Fridays and Saturdays, but that's when they needed help the most."

"I guess you like it then."

"I made good money. I liked being among gay men. I just stayed with it full time. I make a good living. My parents, of course, think they wasted the money on college."

"You go to college for an education, not to get a job."

"Thank you."

"What was your degree in?"

"Typical. `Management.' What I learned has helped me at work. Scheduling, ordering. Inventory. I always liked numbers. My pay is a little higher than some bartenders' because of my degree and responsibilities."

"Nice."

"I suppose. I could make twice as much, and my parents wouldn't care. I'm still just a bartender."

"Not a great relationship?"

"It's fair. I have a sister. She's seven years younger than me. She finished up college two years ago but is still living at home."

"Did she attend W. Travis too?"

"Oh no. That was too close to Mom and Dad. She wanted to be on her own and went to the University of Nebraska."

"But now wants to be close to your parents??"

"Hardly. She had a degree in education. It was easy to get a job here. She didn't want to move somewhere and be a substitute teacher for a year or so. I'm sure she will branch out eventually. She's saving money I suppose, although they do charge her to stay there. Not a lot. She'll go insane if she stays."

"Are you close to her?"

"Our age difference was pretty big growing up. We're okay, but not really close. We were at our best when she was in high school, and I was in college."

"I was an only child. Cooper doesn't get on well with his family either." I looked at Layton. "Sorry, won't bring him up again."

"It's fine." Layton took a bite of sugar snap peas. "Dinner is really delicious, by the way. Thank you."

I thought it was too. Layton helped load the dishwasher when we were done. I suggested holding off on ice cream until later.

I texted Corey that his meal suggestion worked out great. He sent me a thumbs up in return.

"We could watch something on TV or just sit on the couch or ... go for a drive to look at lights. Did that sound dorky?"

"It sounds sweet. What would you prefer?"

"Umm. How about something to drink, then maybe a drive and then ice cream when we get back? And other things."

"I like other things," he said.

It didn't occur to me that even though Layton was off tonight, his body would still be on his normal work schedule. He wouldn't want to fall asleep when I would.

"On your days off, do you still go to bed at the same time?"

"Usually around midnight."

"Oh."

"You'll want to go to bed a little earlier. I get that. I'm fine."

If the two of us were going to work as a couple, we would have to be flexible. That was for sure. We had different elements to our lives that would require effort. I was up to it. I wanted things to work.

"I'm trying to become a wine person, so I picked up a bottle of red and white today. I do have beer too."

"Why do you want to become a wine person?" Layton asked.

"It seems to be commonly served."

"How about we each have a beer."

I winked at him. "Sounds nice."

Two frigid bottles were removed. I brought them to where he was sitting on the couch.

"This is nice, Mitch. I would have enjoyed going out, but I feel like I get to know you better in your own place."

"Yeah. That's what I wanted. I like you, Layton. I want us to get to know each other better."

"Outside of seeing me work behind a bar?"

I smiled. "Our lunches are nice too. Besides, I enjoy watching you work."

"Thanks. But it is so scattered. Sometimes I can talk with you and others and sometimes I can't."

"You're working; that's to be expected."

"Tell me about your work."

"Well, that's dull. It started as IT mostly. Then I learned some of the accounting requirements. I wanted to move up. I have ... a little. I'm not at a level that Coo-" I stopped. "At the level some of the other investment accountants are, but I've had a couple of mild promotions since starting in my mid-twenties."

"Nice."

"I still need to save for a house. I'd like that."

I really wanted to be in Cooper's house, but I had now accepted that could never happen.

"I should save more than I do," Layton said. "I've never had a desire to take care of a lawn, especially after having to do it growing up. Maybe one day I will get a house. Who knows."

"You'd at least have the daytime hours to do so."

I put my arm around him, and he snuggled up to me. What a nice feeling — so simple yet so captivating. His hand draped over my leg. We sat quietly for a little while. Every now and then, one of us would take a drink of beer.

Layton gently ran the back of his fingers up and down my jeans. It was just enough to cause my crotch to move. His hand moved there and massaged a developing bulge. I continued to drink, but I didn't say anything. The way he was leaning into me, I couldn't tell if he was hard or not. I rubbed his shoulder. He rubbed my clothed cock.

After taking his last swig, his bottle was now empty. He sat up to place it on the side table. He then turned to me, and our lips moved toward each other. My arm pulled him into me. His hand left my crotch and held my side. We kissed and kissed and kissed.

"What a wonderful evening," he said.

"And we've just made it through dinner." I kissed him again. "What next? A drive, ice cream, the bedroom?"

"All of the above," he smiled.

I chuckled.

"I really do think that a Christmas drive would be nice, but ... first ... I want to ... do ..." He unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my jeans and unzipped my fly. "...this." I was a bit startled but went along with it. I helped him open my jeans. His mouth slurped my dick, now free from clothing. He swallowed me. Sucked me. Licked me.

He stood. With his mouth off my cock, he leaned in for a kiss. "I'm sorry to be a tease, but ... I just needed to do that. Let's go."

"You're a nut."

I groped his hardness as he put on his coat. After we both had on warmer outerwear, we kissed again. And again at the door. And again in the car. Each time we smiled at each other.

I recalled some of the streets in Logan's neighborhood and on the way to the country club looking beautiful.

"These houses are quite nice," he said, peering out the window.

"Look at that display," I said. "They must spend a couple of weeks putting it together."

"It's really something."

Layton reached over to hold my hand. I was loving everything about being with him. He spoke of Christmases when he was young. I shared my own experiences. It sounded like he had more cousins than me.

"Most of my relatives are still in Nebraska. I haven't seen several of them in five or so years," he said.

"Are you out to them?"

"I didn't have a coming-out party or anything. I feel word got around. I don't hide it whatsoever."

"And your parents are good?" I asked.

"Better than Carter's."

"Uh-oh."

"I mean, his aren't horrible, but they aren't always receptive to hear about his life."

"You met them?"

"Yeah. I was the first person he took to see them since his college years."

"Sad. Mine are great. They loved-" I stopped. I tried not to talk about Cooper. "I've never had to hide anything from my relatives. Or coworkers. I guess I'm lucky."

"Well, one hundred percent of my coworkers are gay, so..."

I laughed. "Right."

We saw another elaborate house that we decided was our favorite, and then I turned to return to my apartment.

Back inside, I opened the freezer. "I have two kinds of ice cream. Peppermint seemed appropriate for the holidays, and I have chocolate marble."

"I'm not sure if they fit together, but I'll have a scoop of each."

"A man after my own heart."

Layton held me from behind. I loved his arms around me. They found my crotch again.

"We've been in the cold, and I'm dipping ice cream. I'm not hard right now."

"You don't have to be hard for me to want to touch you."

This date was going well. I was just hoping the ice cream wouldn't give me dairy farts when we had sex.

We leaned against the kitchen counter enjoying our frozen dessert. I looked at the microwave; it was just after 9:30.

"Is it hard working later hours than most of the world?"

Layton leaned his head from side to side as he thought his answer. "Sometimes. I like the daytime when stores aren't crowded. If I want to see a movie, the theaters hardly have anyone in them. Meals are a little weird. When Carter and I meet you for lunch, it's really breakfast."

"Ah."

"I don't mind staying up late though. I always get at least seven hours of sleep."

"Me too. Occasionally eight. But I can find myself watching late-night TV now and then."

"Did ... did anyone ask about me at your work this week?" he sheepishly asked.

"I got a question or two. Mostly where did you meet and how long had you been seeing each other. No surprise there."

"Were you truthful?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Not everyone is proud to say they are seeing a bartender."

"Why would that be?"

"It's not always seen as a profession. I'm glad it doesn't embarrass you."

"Nothing about you is an embarrassment. You check the boxes."

"Hmm. And what exactly are the boxes on your list?"

"Well, my list would be:

ü  Kind

ü  Enjoys my company

ü  Makes me laugh

ü  Nice personality

ü  Comfortable showing affection"

"Looks isn't on there?"

"Looks are always a bonus. You check that box too."

"Would I even get a chance at the list if I was ugly."

"I rarely think people are ugly. They might have different choices that turn me off, but..."

"Like tattoos?"

"That's one. I think I once kind of indirectly insulted Carter about that. I felt guilty."

"I'm sure he took it in stride."

"Weird hair styles make me roll my eyes."

Layton didn't say anything but smiled.

"Raging queens or divas aren't my thing."

"I'll try to avoid that box," he grinned.

"In the past, I might have said `Great at sex.' But now ..."

"But now I don't have to try too hard??"

"If I care about the person, then ... sex is natural. If we both like it, then ... great."

"And if we're both hot at it..." he smiled.

"Then that's worthy of two boxes."

Layton laughed. He kissed me with just a touch of peppermint cream left on his lips. He rinsed his bowl and placed it in the dishwasher, a quality I liked.

"Um. About all that," he started. "I'm on PrEP."

"I'm more of a condoms guy."

"Hm." Layton looked concerned.

"And I've taken a test since my last encounter. Not counting jerking off with you last week."

He laughed. "Yeah. That doesn't count."

I put my bowl in the dishwasher. When I turned around, Layton was standing close. He reached up to my shoulders, and his hands started unbuttoning my shirt. As he pulled it open, I leaned forward to kiss him.

"Follow me," I whispered and hit the lights.

One lamp in my bedroom was just enough light to lead us to where we needed to be. I turned off the small tree. I glanced at my cards just before the fiber optic glow went away. I was about to get a Christmas gift.

"May I use your toothbrush?" he asked.

My mind immediately went to "Ew, NO!" That seemed weird. How could someone ask that? Then I figured I could be sucking his cock, licking his ass, swallowing his cum — and all that was perfectly fine, but not a toothbrush??

"Uhhh ... okay. Sure."

Never, ever had I had another boyfriend do that. It's odd that a little thing like that was a curveball for me.

I took a leak as Layton used my toothbrush. Then those actions were reversed.

I had two scented candles in my apartment. The three-wick was "Strawberry Poundcake." That sounded pleasant. I lit the three wicks and placed the candle on my dresser. One bedside lamp was still on.

Layton stood before me. I could tell he wanted to undress me. I wanted to do the same to him.

He had unbuttoned my shirt in the kitchen. His hands felt my chest briefly and then moved to my shoulders to remove the shirt from my body. It fell to my wrists, and I tossed it to the side of the bed. My fingers reached to the bottom of his pull-over sweater and lifted it over his head and arms. He had on a black T-shirt underneath.

"You look great in everything," I said. Layton smiled back. I gripped the undershirt and untucked it from his jeans. It was pulled off next.

We remained standing, gently touching each other's chests. We kissed, letting our tongues explore. In our kiss, I felt fingers touching my belt buckle. In less than a minute, I was unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped. I reached down to push my jeans to the floor, taking my boxers with them. I stepped out of the puddled clothing. My dick was pointing toward my lover.

Dropping to my knees, I reached up with my arms to tease his nipples ever so briefly. Then my hands slid over his torso to his waist, gripping his ass before moving to the front side to grope his crotch. I felt his firmness through the denim. Layton didn't have a belt on, so I immediately opened his jeans. Rubbing my face into his open fly, I pressed my nose into his growing erection trapped inside his briefs. As I inhaled him, his fingers ran through my hair. I rubbed his cock with my nose and forehead.

"Mitch," he breathed.

My fingers curled inside the waistband of his briefs and pulled down all his clothing to his feet. His cock sprang free. My nose returned to rub its length and smell its masculinity. My tongue extended to lick his wonderful balls. He stepped out of the tangle of clothing at his feet and pulled his socks off. I walked over to the lamp to turn it out. I pulled off my socks, enjoying the soft glow of the candlelight in the room.

I stretched my body out on my back. I was fully exposed for Layton to see. He crawled up toward me from the foot of the bed. One knee carefully was placed between my legs, and he leaned forward to kiss me. We did that well, and I knew we both enjoyed it.

He rose up on his knees and moved to straddle me. Layton dangled his balls along the top of my dick. Man, I loved that. My balls didn't dangle. He inched back to rub his cock on mine. Grabbing them both in his hand, he stroked both our erections together.

"I like doing this," he said.

"It feels good," I returned.

He rocked his body up and down and back and forth rubbing our hard flesh into one strong mass.

Rubbing. Rocking. Gripped. Groped.

"Move up here," I requested.

His knees were positioned aside my shoulders, and I reached underneath to hold his ass when he guided his shaft into my mouth. We both groaned feeling the hard manhood engulfed in slippery warmth. Slowly, gently he fucked my face. I reached down to stroke my own cock as I feasted on his organ.

I had really missed cocks.

I had really missed men.

I had really missed sex.

After having been sucked for a few minutes, he pulled back. "I shouldn't take that too far. I still have intentions."

"Tell me of your intentions," I smiled up at him.

He lined his body with mine and we turned toward each other. His expression was not one of lustful passion. It concerned me.

"Mitch, earlier you mentioned being a `condoms guy.' I'm worried that we are both tops. Not that we can't still keep doing fun things, but..."

I kissed him.

"That's fine. I like it both ways. I was usually-" Nope. I wasn't going to talk about Cooper. "I'd love for you to fuck me."

He exhaled. "Oh good." Glancing around, he asked. "Do you have what we need?"

"Like ... lube?"

"Yeah. Maybe a towel or washcloth. Do you have ... toys?"

I lifted my head. "Toys??"

"To ... you know ... get you ready. Open you up to where it's comfortable."

"I ... guess not. Your fingers will do."

"Oh."

I reached for lube; Layton got up to explore my bathroom closet for towels. He returned with a big towel and a wet washcloth folded into quarters.

"The candle is nice," he said. The fragrance was now noticeable.

"Thanks."

Layton spread the towel out. "Roll over."

I rolled onto the blanket, with my crotch on the towel and my face in the pillow. I figured he would get my ass ready. Instead, he rubbed my shoulders. I groaned in approval. His hands massaged my back muscles.

"That's really nice."

A couple of minutes of his warm hands loosened my body. I could sense him leaning over to grab the lube. Soon, a slippery finger probed my hole and punctured through. I hadn't felt that in so long. I noticed it was only one finger, and he didn't prepare me for very long.

He wiped his finger on the washcloth. I could hear him coating his dick with more lube. He then positioned the head at my entrance. I was about to be gloriously fucked.

The head went in, along with a few inches. It hurt. Bad. I wasn't ready. Feeling my body lurch, he withdrew. I clinched my fists and waited for him to enter me again. Layton was slow on the second thrust. Gently, gradually, all of his erection moved inside my body. My ass felt invaded, but I breathed deeply and exhaled slowly.

"Is it okay?" he asked.

"Just ... just stay in. Give me a second."

I breathed in and out. Layton patiently remained still. My body became accustomed to the sensation. I nodded, my face still pressed into the pillow.

He pulled most of his cock free, and then he pushed it back in. Out. In. Out. In.

I heard him softly groan.

"Yeeaaaahhh. Mitchell. Oh, yeah."

I enjoyed hearing him feel pleasure.

His cock moved in and out easily. It was now comfortable. I turned my head to the side, and told him, "It feels good having you inside me."

"Yeah," he said in his thrusts. "Oh yeah."

I could feel his breath on my neck. His elbows rested next to my arms to where he clutched my wrists.

"Fuck me, Layton. Fuck me."

He pushed and thrust and shoved his rigid dick into my hole. He drove it into my willing ass. Hard. I loved having his beautiful body hovering above me. I moaned as my ass was being stimulated.

"Mmmmm," I moaned.

I lifted my body on my knees and stiff arms. Layton wrapped his arms around my chest and fucked me while squeezing my body.

I groaned. He groaned. He kissed my shoulder. I dropped my head and grunted like an animal. I wasn't loud, just audible. Sexually audible. Gratefully audible. Passionately audible. I looked up at the ceiling and moaned some more. I needed this so much. I needed a man's cock to fill me — a man I cared for. A man I wanted to see day after day.

Compressed together as one gyrating body, we began to snarl in our fulfillment. Grunting, snarling, growling. The animal characteristics enflamed me.

"Lay', I – I want to watch you. I want to see you fuck me."

He pulled his cock out. I felt empty.

I rolled onto my back. Layton grabbed my ankles and spread me apart. He moved up to my hole. I grabbed a leg while he positioned his cock. It moved in. Deep.

"Oh yeah!" we both called out.

"Ungh, it feels so good in you, Mitch."

"Yeah."

"Ungh."

"Yeah."

"Ungh."

"Fuck me."

We both groaned. He had my ankles, so I grabbed my cock. I got it fully hard. Wonderfully hard.

"Yeah. Jerk that cock. You have such a big cock, Mitch. Jerk it for me."

I shut my eyes as both my hole and penis were feeling incredible pleasured.

"Mmmng." Layton thrusted harder. "Ungh. Mmmph. Ungh. Oh yeah. Ungh. Mmm. Mmm!" His hips thrust faster.

"Fuck me, yes."

"It's so good. So good," he whined. I opened my eyes to watch Layton's face contort into sexual ecstasy. He was there. "Oh. Ohhhhhh. FUCK! Yeah. Yeah. Ungh! Ungh!"

I could tell by his face that his cum was lining my insides. His body froze. He groaned at each pulse of ejaculation. His mouth was so open wide. His head tilted back until his orgasm was completely finished. Then it dropped, making an effort to regulate his breathing.

"Fuck, yes," he gasped.

"Fuck, yes," I said back.

"Can you stay in me? Fuck me some more?"

"I'll try."

Layton resumed pushing inside me even though he was panting for breath.

"That's it."

I jerked my hard-on as I stared at my new boyfriend. (Were we boyfriends?) My grip was so tight on my shaft that it flexed my muscle.

"You have a great cock, Mitch," he said to me. "Jerk it. Make it come for me."

"Yeah."

"Do it man. Make it come."

I got fierce with my strokes. I moaned. He fucked me.

"Push your cum further up in me," I said up to him.

Layton groaned trying to fulfill my request. I stroked violently. I moaned as I felt my climax began to rise.

"Yes, Layton. Fuck me fuck me fuck me."

He jackhammered my ass trying to keep his dick erect. I was near the brink. The stimulation was vibrating through my body.

"Ohhhh. Ohhhh yeah. Oh yeah. Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah." And it was there. I erupted. "UNNNGHH! Oh. Oh! OH! Ohhhhh!!! Ohhhhh fuck yeah." My cum drooled some more after the major releases. "OOhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhh." I breathed heavily.

He smiled at me. I smiled at him. He withdrew his penis from my body. I missed it immediately.

We lay there breathing. Neither of us said anything.

"22," I whispered to myself.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Nope. I wasn't going there. No notes. No details. No black book.

"I wish I would have lasted longer. I know I didn't check two boxes," he said. He turned to me, "Hopefully, I checked one box."

"You certainly did," I smiled.

I got up to tend to all parts of my body, dragging the towel with me. As I tended to my ass and my cum, Layton washed his hands for what seemed a very long time.

We walked back into the bedroom. I reached for the remote to turn on the news. We could at least catch the weather. He wanted to see sports too. Fallon came on following. We listened to his monologue with our bodies propped up on our pillows. Our arms and legs touched each other.

We didn't care about the first guest, so I turned the television off. Only the Strawberry Poundcake candle offered any type of illumination.

"I know this is early for you," I said. "If you want to get up and do something, that's fine."

"Actually," he said, holding me. "If I can wrap my arms around you, that's what I'd like to do."

"That sounds wonderful. Want to blow out the candle?"

"Sure." I watched his butt walk toward my dresser.

Until Cooper, I typically would put something back on to sleep in. But neither of us did. Coop and I had enjoyed numerous naked nights. This would be my first time with Layton.

He moved up behind me, and I wriggled back into his arms.

He hummed into my shoulder and kissed my neck. "This was really nice, Mitch. I'm enjoying our time together."

"Me too." And I felt he didn't just mean the sex.

 

—

 

I kissed Layton on the cheek. He opened his eyes.

"Can you make sure you turn the lock when you leave?"

"Huh?" he jumped up. "Why? Are you leaving? What time is it?"

"Twenty to 9."

"Why didn't you wake me? You've showered. I would have joined you."

"This is your normal sleep time. No need to disrupt that."

"Aww. You didn't have to worry about that."

"There's some breakfast bars on the kitchen table and some yogurt in the fridge."

"'k." He looked at me. "When will I see you next?"

"I'm not sure. I'll leave for my parents tomorrow after work. I'll spend a couple of days with them. What about you?"

"I'm driving up Sunday morning, Christmas Eve. I'll come home Monday evening."

"Can I ... can I spend Christmas night with you?" I asked.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Christmas night or Christmas night?"

"Hopefully both," I smiled.

"I'd like that."

"It doesn't intrude on your holiday?"

"Boyfriend, sex, company? I can gladly accept such an intrusion."

He called me boyfriend. My heart exploded into confetti. Confetti and melted wax.

"Great. We're too new to worry about gifts, so the night together will be our Christmas gift to each other."

"A sweet way to look at it. I'll cook since everything will be closed," he offered.

"You'll be my little Santa."

"Your dick isn't that much bigger."

"Not what I meant." I kissed him. "And you know it."

I took out my phone and took a selfie of us.

"What's that about?"

"I just want a picture of us."

"You're kidding, right? You're all showered and dressed, and I'm naked with my hair a mess."

I looked at the picture and showed it to him.

"I think you're sexy as all get out."

"Hm. Whatever. Surely you won't show your parents that."

"Highly unlikely."

"You better not let that be their first impression of me."

I gave him a long, long, long kiss goodbye.

"Your clothes are on the couch."

"Bye. Merry Christmas, Mitch."

 

—

 

"Mer-RY Christmas," Mom said, opening the door. "You know you don't have to ring the doorbell."

"I haven't lived with you all in ages. It seems like the appropriate thing to do."

"The house will always be home, no matter what."

I carried in a small bag. I took it to the guest room, my old room.

"Who's all coming?"

"My parents Christmas Eve, your father's parents for Christmas lunch. It will be a big meal."

"Okay."

"My sister will be here all day Sunday."

"Sounds good. Since she lives in Jackson Bend and I do too, how come we never do holidays there?"

"You know she just doesn't have the room."

"I guess. Are we doing our gifts Christmas morning?"

"I believe so. That's what we usually do."

I went to the car to get my gifts. More than anything I wished I could be bringing Layton in with me. I'd love for them to meet him.

I set the gifts under the tree. I then texted him: "Can you text me a picture of you?"

"Why"

"Do you want me to show the picture from this morning to my parents?"

A minute later, a nice picture of him was texted to me.

They had waited for me to arrive before eating, so we had simple sandwiches with more substantial meals planned for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Mac and cheese as a side dish and platters of Christmas cookies rounded things out.

"You were so excited about your Christmas cards. Were you content with the outcome?" Mom asked.

"Absolutely. It was so cool."

"Why so?" Dad inquired.

"I don't know. I think it was just connecting with people this year. It was a tough year, and finding a simple pleasure in something small was ... uplifting, I guess."

"You do seem rather happy," Mom said.

"I am. I feel happier than I have in many months."

"Wonderful. You're not seeing anybody new, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Oh! This is good news. Who is it? Tell me about him."

I pulled up the photo I had been texted earlier.

"This is Layton. We're very new. VERY. We have actually been friends for a few months, but we just started dating a couple of weeks ago. If that."

"Wonderful, son," Dad said. "I hope you two are a good fit."

"He's so good looking," Mom gushed.

"I think so. But ... after dealing with my issues with Logan, I am kind of deciding to find the right person in all aspects. I don't want looks to be the only thing."

Or sex.

"Well, he still looks very handsome anyway."

"Indeed."

My father got up to turn on some Christmas music.

"Oh look. Snow flurries," Mom said.

"It's not supposed to amount to much," my father added.

"It still feels like Christmas," she said.

As holiday carols filled the living room, I let my parents tell me about their lives for a while. Our recent visits centered on me, but I felt I owed them some dedicated attention. However, whatever they told me probably wouldn't be committed to memory because I kept thinking about Layton and wondering how he was doing at work.

When it came time for bed, I lay there thinking about waking up with him this morning. A beautiful naked man next to me in my bed. A naked man. In my bed.

I got a hard-on easily. Minutes later, mere thoughts of my boyfriend brought me to climax. I wiped my chest with one of the socks I'd tossed to the floor.

"Hope you're having a good shift. I'm thinking about you."

I hoped that text didn't come off as clingy.

 

—

 

The smell of coffee awakened me.

7:16. That was more than eight hours of sleep. Marvelous.

I checked my phone. A text from Layton came in during the middle of the night.

"Thinking about you too." It was followed with a picture. >From what I could tell, it was a washcloth with smeared cum on it. I smiled. Kinky little bastard.

Walking into the kitchen in lounge pants and a sweatshirt, I glanced out the kitchen windows. "Well, there's a dusting of snow."

"Far from `white,'" Mom said.

"It should get up to 40 by noon. It'll be gone. No White Christmas for us this year," Dad noted.

It was a lazy day. We watched a couple of Hallmark movies, Mom needed to wrap two more gifts, we looked through old photo albums and other simple "family" stuff made it a relaxing break.

I thought about Layton a hundred times, but I wasn't going to come off as "that guy" who has to text all the time. I could go a day without texting him.

At 4:40, my phone rang. My heart jumped when I saw it was Layton.

"Hi."

"Hi. I am about to go into work, so I thought I'd call to say hi."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"My mom said you were very handsome last night."

"Thank heavens you didn't show her the bed picture!"

I giggled. "I liked the picture you sent in the middle of the night."

"It didn't come off as too pervy?"

"Well, I resisted showing it to my parents."

"Uck. Please delete it, you lunatic."

We were silent a moment.

"I can't wait to see you on Christmas," I said.

"Me too."

"Have a good shift, Layton."

My aunt came up in time for dinner. We all went out to eat. I made it my treat. Following dinner, we played several rounds of cards. It was good fun.

In bed, I couldn't help but think about Layout. About his body. About us in the shower. About his dick inside me. I looked at the picture of us in bed as I jacked off. As I got close to finishing, I flipped to the picture of his cum rag. I thought about his cum inside me. That brought me off.

 

—

 

Christmas Eve. It was Sunday. For my mother's benefit, I accompanied her (them) to church. I hadn't attended services regularly since high school. I did it for her.

The sermon was about the birth of Christ. What a shock. I enjoyed the song service though. I always liked singing. I had no problem singing along with the hymns, many of which were standard Christmas carols.

One set of grandparents arrived for lunch. We had two big meals planned for the day. We played more cards, now with six people. Yahtzee was a favorite of my grandparents. We had a hilarious game of Pictionary following dinner.

Following another slice of pumpkin pie, my grandparents headed back to their home. It wasn't a long drive.

Everyone seemed to be doing their own thing. It had been a good day.

I went to my room and decided to make some phone calls.

"Hi, Cruz. I just wanted to wish you and Carlos a Merry Christmas. Hope you have a great holiday."
"Merry Christmas, Kenneth. I just wanted to wish you and Graham a great holiday."
"Hello, Arlo. I just called to say Merry Christmas to you and Seager."
"Logan, hey. It's me. I hope you and Nate have a great Christmas."
"Hi, Layton. I know you are with family. I just wanted to wish you Merry Christmas."

We watched the news. Christmas Day was supposed to be 39 degrees. Even though the low was 22, there was no snow. I hated useless cold. If it was to give us a pretty snow, then fine. But just cold ... bleh.

I had already had two desserts this evening, but I went for a Christmas cookie anyway. If I wasn't careful, I would become fat, and Layton would dump me.

 

—

 

Following breakfast, my parents and I sat near the Christmas tree. I bought each a gift. They gave me two. They had a few for each other. It was all nice stuff: shirts, jewelry, ties, nail appointments, a wallet, dress socks, my favorite shower gels.

As I showered, I thought of seeing Layton later. I pictured him all lathered up and sudsy next to me.

I got to see Layton tonight.

I got to have sex with Layton tonight.

I got to suck Layton's cock tonight.

I got to be fucked by Layton tonight.

I was hard.

I made sure I exited the bathroom without a visible bulge, but my parents were the only ones in the house.

My other grandparents arrived at 11. Even though it was lunchtime, it was a big Christmas dinner. They had spent Christmas Eve with Dad's brother. When my aunt and I left later in the day, Mom and Dad would drive to go see his family. It involved a lot of relatives. I hadn't seen several in years, but there was only so much room for people.

Dad's parents were more accepting of me being gay. Not that Mom's parents gave me any problems. They just never asked about ... anything. Grandma and Grandpa Sanders were pleased to hear I was seeing someone. I showed them the picture of Layton. I wished I had one of the two us rather than him naked in bed, not that you could see "anything."

I made calls:
"Hi, Cooper. I hope you and Larry are having a great Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Carter. Are you enjoying the holiday?"
"Hi, Sawyer. I saw your email last week. I saw a lot of snow hit Montreal. Was it a White Christmas?"
"Merry Christmas, Corey. Are you enjoying your time off from school?"

Even though the calls were brief, I enjoyed making them. Hearing their voices was nice.

As I packed up my things, I felt the sock with the dried cum on it. That made me think of Layton again. I got hard just packing clothes. I smiled accepting that I hadn't felt this way in a really long time. I liked being happy again.

I looked in the mirror.

"I'm a human being, and I'm fallible.
I can learn from my mistakes and be better.
I'm a good person.
I'm worthy of being loved."

It was too soon for us to think about love, but whatever this was, it felt pretty damn great.

 

—

 

I got home shortly after 3. I looked to see if I had any mail on Saturday.

A new Christmas card had come! Yay! Holy crap, it was from Layton. He must have mailed this the day after he spent the night at my place.

"Mitchell,

I know we're just starting out.
But I think you are pretty special.
I have enjoyed our time together.
I'm so glad that Lorenzo turned
you down and I forced my way
into your life.

You're a wonderful man.

Merry Christmas,"

And he signed it.

I felt I stared at it for five minutes before standing it with the others.

 

—

 

I pulled up to Layton's apartment at 6:45. He met me at the door with a kiss. I was so thankful that Layton was there when Lorenzo turned me down. Lorenzo wasn't capable of greeting me at the door with a kiss.

He shut the door behind me. "Merry Christmas," I said. We kissed again.

"I missed you," he said.

"It's only been three days."

"I still missed you."

"I like your company too."

Layton's apartment was much neater this visit. There were no piles of clutter, no laundry. To say everything was straight and tidy would have been an exaggeration, but the place was more presentable for company.

"I've made a lasagna. I hope that's okay."

"Sounds great. Anything I can do to help?"

"Nope. It's layered; I just have to put it in the oven. We can have salad shortly. Wine or beer?"

"Doesn't red wine go with Italian?"

"I believe so."

Soon, two glasses of red were poured. He had ice water on the table as well.

We spent the next hour talking about our Christmases, as well as eating the meal he had prepared. I liked that his lasagna was extra saucy. The garlic bread was great, but I questioned if it would impair our lovemaking. I had at least brought an overnight kit with my own toothbrush.

Each of us described the details of the highlights — and low points — of our holiday. Layton and I had developed an ease of keeping each other company. Conversation had become natural between us.

"You should have seen the club Saturday night. It was packed. I was glad I was behind the bar instead of in the crowd."

"Good money?"

"It was a great night. New Year's Eve will top it, but last Saturday was great."

I hadn't thought about New Year's Eve. It would be great to go out with my new boyfriend, but it made sense that he would have to work.

We didn't have dessert, which was fine. Lunch had been big.

Layton topped off our wine, and we took our glasses to the couch. I admitted I liked cabernet. If I was out to dinner, I knew I could order it. Wine was now in my comfort zone.

Layton turned to his side and leaned against the armrest. He pulled me to him, and I carefully leaned against his chest. He wrapped his one leg over mine; the other draped to the floor. My head rested on his shoulder. Both of us took a sip of wine in this reclined position. His free hand reached under my shirt a few inches.

I wasn't for sure, but I thought I felt he was hard behind me. I wasn't sure.

"Do you work tomorrow night?"

"Yep. We're open again."

"Since Thursday nights are your nights off — and I'm hoping we can see other on those nights — is it okay if I still come in on Wednesday nights?"

"Sure. You know Carter and a regular or two. I like seeing you at the bar."

"Good. But I know you are at work. I won't expect you to dawdle on me or anything."

"Dawdle. That's me. I'm a dawdler."

"I'm serious. Can you treat me like a regular customer?"

"Of course."

I sipped my wine. Layton did too. We could have stayed like that for hours. If we had never made it to the bedroom, I would have been fine. I loved being in his arms, feeling him close to me.

Layton reached for the lamp behind him. When he turned it off, we relaxed in the glow of his Christmas tree.

"Nice," I said.

He kissed my temple. I tilted my head, and he nibbled on my earlobe. I purred.

He bunched my shirt up higher as he rubbed more of my chest. His fingers tugged at hair above my navel. I drank wine as I enjoyed his hand touching me. His magical hand.

"I like getting to touch you like this. I wasn't sure if I would get to," he softly said in my ear.

"When?"

"Weeks ago. I enjoyed seeing you at the bar. Carter and I would talk about you. Eventually I started thinking about you ... a little more sensually."

"You didn't say anything."

"You were in counseling. What kind of a douchebag hits on someone in therapy?"

"Hmm. I didn't know."

"But it's nice now," he whispered, nibbling my ear.

"Yeah, it is." My fingers gently rubbed his wrist as he touched me.

I felt him place his lips on the top of my head and give me a gentle kiss. I let the colored lights from his tree mesmerize me. I was lost in how marvelous the moment was.

He drank. I drank.

His reach found my crotch. He didn't grope me; he just rested his hand on my clothed anatomy. His fingers moved in the slightest of ways, practically hovering over my erection.

I drank. He drank.

I didn't have a belt on. With one hand, I unbuttoned my fly and unzipped it.

Layton's fingertips slipped under the waistband and roamed through my bush. I couldn't wait for him to feel all of me. But we didn't need to rush. We had the whole night.

"I crave you, Mitchell," he whispered.

I knew I felt his cock press into my back.

I drank. He breathed into my ear.

He drank. I pressed his hand into my rod.

"I need you," he whispered.

I took the final gulp of my wine. Our glasses were empty.

We stood and walked to the bedroom.

We began pulling clothes off. Our bare chests touched each other as we kissed, standing in front of the bed. He moaned when I rubbed his bulge. We let go of the other's body to strip everything off our own. We were naked. I began to grind my body into his. Our mouths mauled each other; tongues explored.

"Layton, I want you so bad."

I carefully pushed him onto the bed. My hands spread his knees apart. I knelt before him and swallowed his cock. The rigid shaft jumped in my mouth, and I moved up and down, lubricating it with my saliva. His tight blood-filled skin was succulent.

"Ohhh, Mitchell."

My tongue played with his erection, dabbing it, licking it, teasing it.

"Fuuuuck, yes," he groaned. I swallowed hard. "FUCK yes!"

He squirmed in my blowjob. His hands roamed up and down my arms.

"Ohhhh, Mitchell. Rub your cock on mine."

"Huh?" I took my mouth off.

"Rub your dick on my dick."

I moved my crotch to his and grabbed both of our organs.

"Yes! Rub them. Rub them together."

I did as instructed, stroking the two cocks as one unit.

He growled in approval.

"Hold on," he said.

Layton reached into a lower drawer on his nightstand. He pulled out a few items. Below was a towel.

"Let me take care of you," he said.

I saw an assortment of butt plugs. He spread the towel out and moved my body on it. "Spread for me." Squeezing some lube on the slender plug, he pushed it against my sphincter. It went in. I groaned. He moved in me, swirling in my hole. He picked up a second plug, this one was bigger in diameter. He added a little lube to it. He pulled out the plug he had left in me and pressed the new one to ready my hole. It slid in.

"Unnngh," I groaned. "Oh yeah."

He prodded and probed my insides with the object. It was heaven.

"That last one looks kind of big."

"Don't worry. I'm ready to put my cock in you. Are you ready?"

"Please."

After one last squirt came from the bottle, the head of his erection was positioned just right. He moved in slowly. Layton was inside me again.

"Yes!"

He groaned.

"Ungh." He made me grunt with each thrust.

I felt full with him expanding my insides, sliding his body into mine. Merging us.

He pushed down on me with his hands pressed to my chest. I was groaning. He was groaning.

"Fuck me. Fuck me, Lay'!"

"Yeah!" His rhythm got faster.

"Give it to me."

Over and over, he pushed his battering ram into my passage. His crotch crashed into mine.

Layton became loud. I wondered if neighboring apartments could hear.

"Do me. Fuck me."

"Yeah." He fucked and panted and gasped. His body rocked above me.

He leaned down to kiss me. We both struggled to breathe.

Our lips separated.

"Keep fucking me."

"Hold your legs for me," he requested.

He reached for the bottle and put lube on his fingers. Making his body rise taller, he balanced on his knees. He pushed his dick back in fully and grabbed my cock with both his hands. As he fucked me, his hands gripped my rod and stroked it up and down with his slippery grip.

"Oh, God. Oh, God!" I wailed.

The two of us were an engine. He worked both my dick and my ass over at the same time.

"Laaaaaytoooon."

"Yeah!"

He let go to lean down and kiss me some more.

"Please grab my cock again."

He did. Both hands. He pulled and stroked. He jerked and yanked.

"Fuck me!"

"Oh, Mitchell." His hands churned my pole. "Oh man. Oh yeah."

"Faster, Layton. Harder."

I was so close. We had been at it a while, and the vibrations in my groin were in the stratosphere.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck."

"Layton!"

"Mitch!"

"Don't stop," I pleaded.

"I'm there," he said.

"Me too!"

"I'm coming!!" we both screamed.

My cock became even more slick as cum gushed from it and dripped into his grasp. He shoved his dick into me with force, milking his organ shoot inside me. Pushing. Thrusting. Shooting.

I moaned. He snarled.

I let go of my legs and wrapped them around his back. He leaned in for one more kiss.

"Hot. Damn," he said.

I smiled at him. "I think that was two boxes."

"That was great," he breathed heavily.

My boyfriend pulled out of me, and we went to the bathroom to clean up. Layton was very fussy about washing up following sex. I learned that.

He folded the sex towel neatly and placed it on his side of the bed.

I slipped back into bed, momentarily thinking about putting my underwear back on, but I abandoned the idea.

He crawled on top of me. Our noses jousted.

"Do you think your neighbors have ever heard you?

"During sex? I have no idea. Not that they've mentioned. But I do know they are gone, so ... no big deal."

We took a moment to look into each other's eyes. And then he turned out the lone lamp.

"Merry Christmas, Layton." We kissed.

"Merry Christmas, babe."

I had a boyfriend. I was "babe." I was happy.

It was a Merry Christmas.

 

* * * *

 

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There is so much to unpack with this chapter. Look for a new post, "Mitch's Christmas," at my blog: timothylane414stories.blogspot.com

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