Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of male/male sex between consenting adults. If that sort of thing bothers you, or you are a minor, or it is illegal for you to read this type of content under the laws of your area, don’t read any further.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual people or events is purely coincidental.

I love receiving emails. Accolades, encouragement, suggestions, comments, and corrections are welcome and gladly accepted. Flames will be utterly ignored. <lavenderquill@yahoo.com>.

Other work by The Lavender Quill can be found on the web at <http://lavenderquill.tripod.com/>.

Setting: Sacramento, California, 2002.

Chapter 9.

“I still can’t believe you sang to me like that,” I said to Robby when we walked in to my apartment. God, he was so sweet. I knew I was falling in love with him. I’d only known him about a week, but he made my heart soar in ways I never dreamed. I tried to imagine what other wonderful revelations lay ahead of me.

“I’ve been singing in church choruses since I was, like, five, I think,” said Robby. “I had to learn a few songs that weren’t hymns, or I’d go mad.”

I smiled and kissed him on the nose. I decided just then that I thought his nose was cute. It was kind of a small, impish nose. Yet another thing that contributed to the illusion that he looked so much younger than he was.

“I’m gross,” I said. “ I’m gonna take a shower. Wanna join me?”

“What about dinner?”

“I stink. Shower first, then dinner. We have plenty of time.”

“I’d love to join you in the shower. But, Kevin… I can’t stay overnight.”

I was disappointed, but I was beginning to understand his home situation. I took him in my arms. “Robby, I wish you could stay. I really liked Saturday night. But I don’t want to wreck things for you at home. I’ll try to settle for what ever time you can spend with me.”

“Thanks, Kevin.” He gave me a light kiss. “Lets go shower. You stink.” He laughed. I walked to the bathroom, shedding clothes on the way. Robby did the same right behind me.

We discarded the little bandages covering our inner elbows where the blood had been drawn, and climbed in the shower. We rinsed and began to playfully lather each other up. Of course we both grew erections in no time. Not long after that our playing turned in to groping and kissing. We rubbed our slippery bodies against each other. His tongue danced around my mouth, and I was discovering yet another kind of kiss: very sexual, yet light and joyful too. My soapy hands roamed all over his body as we writhed together.

“Oh, Robby,” I sighed. I didn’t know whether I wanted to kiss him or suck his cock or fuck him or lick every inch of his beautiful body. My mind reeled. I wanted to make him as happy as he made me. We kissed some more, and my hands caressed the soft round globes of his ass. I began to slide one hand into the crack of his ass, searching for that sweet spot. He moaned a little and spread his legs apart. My soapy finger reached his rosebud, and I plunged it in.

Robby flinched. “Ouch,” he said. His ass clamped tight on my finger.

I froze. “Sorry,” I said, not knowing what I’d done wrong. I thought it would be slippery enough with all the soap. Did I shove it in too hard? “Is it still sore from Saturday?” I asked.

“No,” he said. He relaxed a little, and guided my hand out. He flinched again as my finger popped out. “I’m going to have to get you to start wearing gloves on the construction site. Your hands are really rough, and, um, I’m really sensitive back there.” I was mortified. He saw the expression on my face and smiled. “It’s okay. No permanent damage. I normally like that a lot.” He kissed me. “Something just felt a little sharp and it startled me.”

I knew he was right about my hands. After a day like that at work, my nails get chipped, I get little cuts and hangnails. I never paid any attention to it before, but I could see that it wouldn’t feel very pleasant against sensitive skin. I pulled us under the spray to rinse off a little. I held my hands in front of my face. I could see they looked pretty rough. Then I hit on an idea.

“Turn around,” I said. He looked at me sort of questioningly. I turned him around and got down on my knees behind him. I spread his ass cheeks with my hands, exposing his pucker. His ass hole was completely hairless, moist and just a little pinker than the rest of his creamy skin. I couldn’t imagine a more inviting sight. I hesitated, facing the difference between fantasy and reality. I had heard about rimming, of course. Read about it, seen pictures of it on the internet, even fantasized about it. But in reality, I thought it was kind of gross. I mean, shit comes out of that hole, right? Yuk! We were in the shower, however, and we’d had a great deal of fun soaping each other up. His ass couldn’t possibly get any cleaner. Plus, this was Robby, the boy that held my hand and sang to me.

My inhibitions suddenly fell away, and I leaned in. I sniffed quickly, experimentally. It just smelled like soapy skin, not surprisingly. I darted my tongue out and gave his rosebud a tentative lick. It tasted like the rest of his soapy skin. My final fears gone, I licked again, more slowly, up the crack of his ass. The skin of his pucker felt slightly different. I licked back and forth around and across his opening.

“Ohhhh, Kevvvin,” Robby moaned. He leaned on the shower wall, spread his legs wide and arched his hips back, presenting me easier access to explore. If you would have asked me a half hour earlier, I would have told you I didn’t think I would ever actually lick a guy’s ass hole, but here I was, my face hungrily buried in Robby’s ass. I swirled my tongue around. Robby’s skin is soft all over, but the skin right around and inside the opening was even softer yet, like silk on my tongue. He was moaning like mad and gyrating his hips around, pushing back on my face. This was totally turning him on. His balls were tight up against the base of his cock. His reactions drove me on, and I kissed and licked with ever increasing fervor.

I stopped briefly. “Is that softer than my fingers?” I asked.

“Oh, Kevin, that’s fantaaaaastic.” I made my tongue into a point and plunged it in to his hole, driving it as deep as I could into the channel. He shuddered and moaned. I withdrew and plunged again. It was so incredibly soft, like licking butter. It was arousing me fully as much as it did Robby.

I tongue fucked him for a minute, but found that I couldn’t keep my tongue like that for very long. I went back to licking back and forth over his silky rosebud. “That feels soooo good,” moaned Robby. “I’m gonna come.” I kissed his ass hole, and licked up and down rapidly. He reached his hand down and stroked his big cock maybe two or three times before he started to shoot off. His ass clenched and relaxed on my tongue, again and again as he came. “Ahh, ahh, ahh!” I kept my face buried in his ass, licking back and forth until he stopped.

Though I hadn’t even touched my cock--my hands were grasping his ass the whole time--I knew I was on the verge of my own orgasm. I stood and hugged him from behind, my throbbing cock sticking straight up, trapped between my stomach and the cheeks of Robby’s ass. “Oh, Kevin,” he gasped, “that was so hot. Thank you… thank you.” I held him and humped my cock against him, remembering the feel of that silkiest of skin on my tongue. I erupted, my cock coating his back and my stomach with volley after volley of my juices.

“God, Robby.” I sighed into his shoulder. “I can’t believe I licked your ass. You turn me on so much. I just did it.” I sucked in a few more lungfulls of air, and let my heart rate slow a little. “That was incredible, Robby. I think I like that as much as I like sucking your cock.”

He held my hands, still wrapped around his chest. “No complaints here,” he laughed. “Any time you want to do that again, I won’t stop you.” He broke my grip then, and turned to face me, our softening cocks bobbing against each other. He smiled and kissed me. “Unless we’re in the middle of a crowded shopping mall.”

We both cracked up. I shoved him under the spray, and we both quickly cleaned off again. I turned the water off, and we both stepped out. The bathroom of my apartment was pretty small, so we had a pleasant tangle of limbs as we leisurely dried each other. I wrapped my towel around my waist, and reached for a comb.

Robby took the comb out of my hand, and turned me toward him. I leaned back against the small counter, and he leaned on me. He slowly combed my hair. Not a complicated task since I keep it pretty short, but his face was so serious, mere inches from mine. I watched his eyes. The way he combed my hair seemed so intimate. I kissed him softly when he was done. I think Robby is gorgeous, and sex seemed to get hotter every time, but it was funny moments like this, him combing my hair, that made me think I was in love with him.

We both stood for a moment, silently gazing into each other’s eyes. I wondered if I should tell him I love him. I thought it was true, but I wasn’t sure. Would it scare him?

His stomach rumbled loudly. We both looked down, then back up. It was too comical, and I started to laugh. He looked chagrined for a second, then started to laugh too. “I guess that’s a signal I should feed you,” I said.

“I am kinda hungry,” said Robby.

We walked out of the bathroom and gathered our scattered clothes. I went into my bedroom and put on a clean pair of briefs and some shorts. Robby put his pants back on. As if agreeing by some unspoken signal, neither of us put shirts on.

We went in to the kitchen, and I put my new cookbook on the counter. I dug out the things I’d bought at the grocery store a few days ago. Following the instructions, I cut some chicken up into cubes and cooked it. I cooked some frozen green beans, and a pot of rice. I made a simple sauce from a can of soup and a couple other spices. Okay, so maybe in wasn’t exactly gourmet, but at least I managed not to set the kitchen on fire. In the end, I was fairly pleased with myself. I piled generous portions on two plates and put them on the table, which Robby had set while I was cooking.

We sat down, and then I jumped up again. “Wait,” I said. I dashed in to my bedroom and grabbed the three big candles I had bought, and returned to the kitchen table. I unwrapped them, and set all three in the center of the table. I lit them, then turned off most of the other lights. The light over the kitchen table was on a dimmer, and I turned that down. “Okay, now we can eat.” I smiled at him. Sure it was corny romantic, but that was the kind of mood I was in.

I picked up my fork and was about to dig in when Robby bowed his head and started to say a prayer. I put my fork back down and waited for him to finish. I thought it was a little weird. Like I mentioned before, I was pretty ambivalent about religion, and was not accustomed to saying a prayer before meals. My family had gone to church sporadically at Christmas and Easter when I was growing up, and prayer was certainly not part of our usual routine.

I knew that extremely conservative religious beliefs were at the core of why Robby felt he could never come out to his parents, why he tried so desperately to hide his attraction to boys, why he wanted to move out as soon as he could afford to pay off some of his debts, and why he felt he couldn’t spend the night with me. I also know that extreme religious beliefs are behind a lot of homophobia directed at gay people.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. Finally, I said, “Um, Robby? Do you really believe in God? Or do you just do that out of habit?”

He looked at me for a minute, forming an answer. “Both, I guess. I’ve prayed at meals my entire life. Even at lunch at school. I went to a private Christian school. So, yeah, it’s a habit. It would feel very strange not to. And I do believe in God. Maybe not in the same way as my parents, and I don’t always agree with my minister, but I believe God exists.” He looked at me. “Don’t you?”

“I’m not sure what I believe,” I admitted. “I’m pretty sure that half of what gets preached is crap, and I have serious reservations about the other half.” I stopped, thinking maybe that sounded too harsh. “I think that sometimes it can do more harm than good.” We ate silently for a time. I worried that I had offended Robby, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by what I’d said. “I don’t know the answers when it comes to religion,” I said. “But I can see that your religious beliefs, both your’s and your parent’s, are making your life difficult. That makes me sad, and a little angry, I guess. I worry about you. I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy when I’m around you,” he said. “But you are right. I get pretty stressed about it when I am at home. Sometimes I feel guilty that you make me happy, and that seems pretty fucked up. I feel like it is driving a wedge between my parents and I, and the chasm seems to keep getting wider and wider. The happier I am with another guy, especially you, the more miserable I am around my parents.” He ate some more of his dinner.

“Jeeze, Robby. I think that would make me crazy.”

“Yeah. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to go nuts. I just keep telling myself I only need to hold out three more months. Three more months. Then I can move out.”

“Robby,” I reached across the table and took his hand. “Robby, maybe in three months we could move in together.” I looked at him for reaction, but couldn’t read him. “I can dump this place. Together we could rent something bigger, maybe nicer. It would be cheaper then both of us renting separate apartments.” I wondered if I was being premature with the suggestion. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but its three months away. I’m pretty sure I’m still gonna want to. I think if you asked, I’d do it tomorrow.” He stared at me. Maybe he was worried about what his parents would think. If being with me made things worse at home, maybe he wouldn’t want to live with me. “We could get a two bedroom apartment. Let your parents think we’re just room mates. Tell them anything you want, I don’t care.” Please let him say yes, I thought. I feared I was pushing too hard, that I might push him into saying no. “You don’t have to say anything now. Just think about it. We don’t have to decide for a couple months. I just wanted you to know that I want to do it. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but if you want to, I think it would be great.” I stopped. Listen to me; I’m an idiot, I thought. “I’m babbling. I think I’ll shut up now.”

Robby smiled at me and squeezed my hand. “Kevin, you are the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I think getting an apartment together is a great idea.” He paused in thought. “We’ll have to think some about what to tell my parents. I don’t think they’ll be surprised I want to move out. I’m twenty-one, for God’s sake. But sharing with a room mate? Well, we have three months. Maybe I can sort of ease them into the idea.”

We finished off the last of our diner. “Besides,” he said with an impish grin, “how can I say no to a guy who rims my ass hole till I come, then feeds me diner afterward?” We both burst out laughing.

We cleaned up the dishes. We talked, played video games, and snuggled on the couch until Robby reluctantly announced he had to go home.

Before he left, I took him in my arms next to my front door. “Robby,” I said. “Robby… I’m falling in love with you. I… I just wanted you to know that.” There. I said it out loud.

“I… I…” Robby suddenly looked quite panic stricken. I could feel him pulling away.

I didn’t release him, instead held him tighter. “Robby. Don’t,” I said. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to freak you out. I know you got stuff going on in your mind that makes this harder for you than for me.” I thought of his family, his church, Alex. “But don’t pull away from me. Please.”

He relaxed in my arms a little. I could feel that he was still tense, but he no longer felt like he was going to flee. “This is going kind of fast for me, Kevin,” said Robby. “I dream of falling in love, but it scares me that you say you think you love me this quickly.” He sighed. “Maybe I’ll feel that way too. I think probably I will. But I… I can’t say that to you right now. I’m glad we’re together, but I’m a bit of a mess, really.”

“It’s okay. I don’t understand completely. I think I understand a little though. I want to understand. I want to work it out together. Can we do that?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I think I’d like that. Thanks for being such a great guy, Kevin.” He hugged me tight, then let go. “I really better get going. We’ll talk some more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, releasing him.

I let him go. I wanted so bad to just drag him back in to my apartment and hug him all night and make it better. Sadly, I knew that wouldn’t work. It would just make his parents wonder what was going on. Just make things worse.

I turned on the television and aimlessly flipped through channels. A few minutes later I heard a knock on the door. I though it might be Robby. Maybe he changed his mind and decided to stay. I jumped up and went to the door.

“Hey!” I said, swinging open the door.

It wasn’t Robby. It was Sam Warren, the marine.

“Hi,” said Sam. “Remember me?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, much less enthusiastically. “Um, what’s up?” What was he doing here?

“Uh, can I come in?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what he wanted, though I could guess. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to invite him in. I decided that if nothing else, it would be incredibly rude to leave him out in the hallway. “Oh,” I said stupidly. “Sure.” I stepped out of the way, and he walked in past me. I shut the door and turned around.

Sam was on me in a second. One hand was groping my crotch, his other pinching one of my nipples. He leaned in to me, rubbing himself against my leg.

I was surprised, but I guess I shouldn’t have been. It was almost exactly what I had done to him in his mother’s kitchen. I had let him in, which he apparently took as an invitation to more than I had intended or wanted. My dick started to get hard immediately, an involuntary response to his groping hands. I hesitated only briefly. Did I want to do anything with Sam? I thought of how happy Robby made me feel and how bad I’d felt after fucking Sam the last time, and I knew that I really wasn’t interested in Sam at all. I pushed him away, trying not to be mean about it.

“Sam…” I wasn’t sure what to say. “Sam, we had fun before, but I’m don’t want to do this right now.”

“Oh. Uh. I understand,” His darting eyes and embarrassed look betrayed his confusion.

“I don’t think you do, Sam.” I lead him into the kitchen. I turned the lights up and cleared the candles and placemats off the table. I didn’t want a romantic setting for Sam. “I’m seeing someone special right now.” I sat in one of the chairs. It occurred to me that given where we’d had sex last time, maybe the kitchen was not the best place to be with him. It was either there or the couch, though, so I stayed where I was.

“That didn’t seem to slow you down before,” he complained, sounding a little bitter.

“I hadn’t met him yet. We haven’t gone together very long yet, but we have become very close already.”

“Well, maybe you and I could get close.”

“Aren’t you going back to play marine in a few days?” I asked.

“Yeah. So?” He sat down, finally.

I stood and went to the refrigerator. “You want a soda or something?” I asked.

“Not really.”

I opened one for him anyway, and set it on the table in front of him. I felt him staring at my bare chest. “I’ll be right back.” I went to my bedroom and put on a tee shirt. I returned to the kitchen and sat down, feeling like there was less temptation with me fully dressed and on opposite sides of the table. “How did you find where I live?”

“It’s in the phone book,” he said.

Duh. I guess he didn’t violate any national secrets finding that out, I thought. “Oh, okay.” I looked at him. “Sam, if you just want to get laid, I’m not your guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m looking for something more than just getting laid.”

“Ya weren’t looking for anything more the last time we were together.”

I didn’t say anything. He was right. Two weeks ago, that had been all I wanted. I was surprised how little it mattered now. “Look, I’m not the most experienced guy when it comes to this stuff. I’m still learning what I want. I think I found what I want… who I want. And quick sex with a guy who is leaving for… for I don’t know where in a few days is not what I want right now.”

He didn’t say anything. I tried to read his expression. He looked kind of confused, I thought. “Sam,” I said. “Do you know what you want?” He looked even more confused. “I get the feeling you’ve done even less than I have. One day you’re telling me you’re straight, despite having a whole box of gay porn in your bedroom. The next day you’re letting me fuck you on your kitchen table.” I blew out a breath. “Do you know for sure what turns you on, Sam? Is it guys or girls? Or maybe both?”

He made a little strangling sound. “Both,” he said, and looked down.

“Well, I suppose that probably makes things all the more confusing.” I sighed. Many things confused me, but that, at least, wasn’t one of them. It had been clear for many years that it was boys that turned me on, and recently Robby in particular. “I’m sure the marines aren’t the most gay-friendly organization. I can’t imagine why you signed up, but that’s probably just me. It’s not my world.”

“My dad was a marine.”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean exactly that you want ‘more’?”

“I mean love. I think I’ve fallen in love with a guy. I’m pretty sure it’s the real thing. I hope we’ll be together till the end of time. A quick fuck just can’t compare, at least not to me.” I looked at him. “I’m not sure if that kind of relationship is what you want. I know that it isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay.” I thought of Brian, the eternal bachelor. “I didn’t know that was what I wanted before, but I do now.”

“I guess maybe you’re right. I liked what we did before. I wanted to do it again. I know I ain’t looking for a relationship with anyone. At least not right now. I’m still just figuring out what I want.” He looked me in the eyes finally. “How come you have it all figured out? You’re so young.”

“I’m not that young,” I said. “Not much younger than you. And I don’t have it all figured out. I’m just learning as I go. That is just one thing I’ve figured out about myself.” When I said that, I realized I was pleased with my discovery.

“I guess I’ve got some figuring to do for myself.” He stood up. “Sorry to bother you.”

I stood too. “No bother.” We walked to my door.

He turned and brushed his hand across his crotch. “You sure you wouldn’t want to do it one last time with me? He wouldn’t have to know.”

“Some day I hope you figure out how wrong you are.”

“I’m being an ass, aren’t I?” He blushed, looking genuinely chagrinned.

“A little.” I wasn’t really pissed, but I didn’t want to let him off completely.

“I think your new friend is a pretty lucky guy.” He turned and opened the door. “I’ll see ya around, Kevin.”

“Yeah. See ya.” And he was gone.

Last time when we’d parted, I was pretty sure I’d never hear from him again. This time, I wasn’t sure.

(To be continued.)