This is a story of friendship, commitment, love and trust. It is not a sex story. However, this story deals with love between two male teenagers. If you are offended by stories involving love between two teenage boys, please do not read this story. There will be some sex scenes in this story; however, sex is not the main theme. If you are under age 18 or 21 or it is illegal to read this story where you live, don't read it. Reproducing this story for distribution without the owner's permission is a violation of that copyright.

West Fargo



"I don't know what it is about Ian, I really like him, but he sometimes does things in a
way that makes you want to hate him and yet I don't really think he intentionally
means to hurt."

"Right now I hate him. I hate him because he has taken away from
 the one thing in life I love the most, Alex."

I wasn't happy loving Alex from afar, but at least we did things together.
Not everything, of course, he's straight with a girlfriend in Germany and
I'm gay.

I guess I've always 'known' I was gay, but I couldn't handle it.

It was Claude who really helped me handle it. He's like the dad, I never had.
My real dad died when I was six. I have vague memories of him, but they
are so vague. My stepdad is okay, but he has never made the effort to get to
know me; consequently, I've never really gotten to know him. I'm just part of
Mom's excess baggage he has toendure.

I got off to a bad start with Claude, but that was then.

Being gay really became unbearable because I was somewhat confused.
Alex had hit me out of anger. I felt that I deserved it.
I was so sorry to have been a part of something that had totally embarrassed him.

I went to apologize and I found out he was coming to apologize to me.

He took me to his room to clean me up.

He had such a gentle touch, so caring, as he cleaned up my injured face.

I looked at him and all I could feel was love for him.

Boy, did the tears begin to flow, he thought it was because I was in pain, but it wasn't.

It was because I loved him and I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't.

He was crying too. I guess because he had been the one who hit me and he
felt sorry for me.

I had to turn to someone, someone who would understand. The only gay person
I knew was Claude.

Claude is a fifty-five year old TV production executive. His lover, Michael was
killed in a car wreck several years ago.

He had been a bank executive for some French or Swiss bank. They had met in
their early twenties had fallen in love and remained together and faithful
throughout their relationship. Claude had remained celibate since Michael's

He has never taken advantage of me or laid one finger on me since I've known
him, except for the first time despite many opportunities.

Our relationship is truly like father and son.

I remember the day I first called him Papa. I was waiting by his door for
him to arrive home. It was a Wednesday evening as usual.

I saw him coming up the stairs. He looked tired and exhausted.

He looked like he needed cheering up.

"Hi, Papa." His eyebrows shot up like they do when I say something that
surprises him. Then he just looked at me with such love.

"I know you're wondering why I called you Papa. Well, I think when my Mom
was visiting France, before you met Michael, you two secretly had sex
together - your first and last time with a woman." " Anyway, nine months later
I was born!" "So, Papa, how about giving your long lost, confused, who is
always needing advice about everything, gay son a hug?"

And hug he did. The words that came with the hug I never expected.

"Jason, I love you so very much, more than I can express. One small comment
from you and an absolutely rotten day turns into the best day of my life in
over 8 years."

He kissed my cheek then smiled and said in English, "I'm gay, but that's a
Father-son thingy!"

I burst out laughing.

Papa is the best; he always knows how to turn my life around. It was obvious
I had to tell Alex that I loved him, just in case he feels the same way.

Oh, just the possibility that he did, brought me happiness and yet I was scared.

Scared that I'd be left alone. Was he feeling the same? There's only one way
to know.

I ran down the street to his hotel and up to his room. He wasn't there!

Maybe, just maybe, he was at the cafe.

Down the stairs I ran and outside.

There he was, outside the door to my hotel!

We stood there, both out of breath.

"Alex! I have something I have to tell you!"

 To be continued...

My Thanks to Greg who gave me the inspriation to write this story and to Chad and John. Any comments very much appreciated Later, wf