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



The boy and his friend were so beautiful.

I am not one who picks up young men. It just is not in my character. Yes, I am gay, but I am not a pervert. Clearly you might say that my actions that evening were, but I swear to you that I have never done such an act before or since. Perhaps it was the destiny of things to come, which cause me to do it. I could not resist touching him. And so I did. I gently ran my fingers down his side, watching his reflection in the mirror. I did it again and I saw the faintest smile appear upon his face. I could not believe that I was doing this for real, not a fantasy.

I found out from his friend that he was an American, I would guess eighteen or nineteen. I was truly mesmerized by this boy's beauty and youth. I told him via his friend that he was a very beautiful boy.

He smiled and thanked me.

Oh, his smile I could see it a million times and never get tired of seeing it.

I was compelled by some force to yet again touch him, to feel his youthful body if only once more. I touched him again and like some drug-crazed addict in need of a fix just once more! Suddenly, as if I was some sort of gutter scum, he yells at me, calling me a fag, homo and pervert. It was so horrible! I was so embarrassed! How can you ever explain to people that you are not a perverted old man! But I swear on Michael's grave I have never done this before! It was as if he had lured me in only to spring a trap. I was devastated. My only saving grace was that he had spoken in English and everyone here speaks French. No one seemed to look at me after they left. My respectable reputation is safe.

I hope that I never see that little homophobe again. I hate him! For the first time in over seven years I felt really depressed and had a hard time sleeping.

My luck must be running bad because the next evening while at Maurice's I saw the two appear again. I quickly tried to hide behind my evening paper, but I was too late; he had spotted me and was coming back to where I was sitting.
I wanted no trouble. I hated him. I would treat him as the scum that he is!

He tried to apologize by offering to by me a drink or dinner. HA! Do you think I would lower myself! I answered him with disdain. I needed nothing from him except to be left alone.

He left. Good!

But then he stopped and came back with tears rolling down his cheeks. What is wrong with me? Is this just another ploy to perhaps toy with my emotions. Please, please, don't cry. You are far too beautiful, to cry. Perhaps, he is being sincere and if he is, how could I have been so mean to such a beautiful boy.

The truth is I couldn't I had to give him any chance.

"Okay, you can buy me a cafe au lait, but only if you and your friend join me."

I could have refused. I could have ignored his dramatics and tossed them off as just a ploy, but there was just something about him. I have nor will I ever regret having allowed Jason into my life.

When he came back from ordering the coffee he wiped away a single tear with his hand. I looked at his hands, they were the hands of an artist. Jason has a way about himself that I don't know, you just feel happy that he is there. It's just a feeling you get from him. I've only experienced it once before with Michael, but even that was different. This was not the boy that insulted me last night. Within a few minutes we were laughing and joking like old friends.

Perhaps, it was Alex who brought about such a transformation in Jason. I believe something magic happened between them because I could clearly see that he loved Alex and that Alex loved him all though neither I think would admit it to the other. It reminded me of when I was young and had first met Michael. I slept so peacefully that night.

I didn't see Jason for three months though I often thought about the two. One evening I came into the bistro and I heard someone calling my name. It was Jason.

Oh, I can not describe in words how I felt seeing him there. It was as if something had always been missing from my life and now I found it or him. I'm not meaning this in a romantic or lustful way, just, I don't know! It's like something that when it wasn't there you didn't miss it, but now that it's here you realize that it was missing from your life and you are so happy that it is there now.

"Claude!" He ran over to see me.

We did the customary French courtesies, you know hello how are you sort of stuff. I was amazed his French was almost fluent and not a hint of an American accent. You would swear he was Parisian.

When we were comfortable at our table with our drinks. He smiled and said quietly, "I guess you wonder why after all these months, I'm here again?"

"Yes, you don't strike me as a boy who would like to hangout with a fifty-five year old man."

Then he really surprised me in a way.

"That's not true. I really like you. But you're sort of right, there is another reason, you're the only gay person I know. I'm here because I need advise."

I raised my eyebrows.

"I'm gay. I know that without any doubt! And I'm in love. I know that without any doubt too."


He nodded 'yes'.

"That's wonderful!"

"No. It's horrible, Claude!" He started crying. Most people make noise when they cry. Jason doesn't you just see a flood of tear cascading down his cheek and the sadness that appears in his face make you want to take him in your arms and hold him tight.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," I said as I took his and led him outside. He hugged me and buried his face on my shoulder. My eyes were in sympathy as they quickly filled with water too. After a few moments I said, "Come on a walk will do us good."

We walked in silence, I had my right arm over his shoulder as we walked. I started to remove it and he quickly grabbed my hand and looked at me as if to say, "Please leave it there". He began to quietly speak and told me how much he cared for Alex, of all their common interests, of how great Alex was. Then his face saddened, Alex had a beautiful girlfriend. He'd seen her picture in Alex's room.

"Today, I talked with Alex about Adrianna. I thought that if I knew her better, from Alex's point of view I could deal with it better."

He stopped walking. I stopped. Funny it was right in front of my apartment.

He just looked at me for a second then buried his head into my chest and sobbed. I held him in my arms and tried to comfort him. For five minutes he wept.

"I realized that he loves her, I said to Alex, 'You must really love her' and he said 'yes, we've always been best friends.' Claude, it hurts so much to be so totally in love with him and to know that I'll never be able to hold him in my arms, to kiss him, to just say 'I love you' the way I want to."

He cried some more.

"Jason, I know that it is hard and painful. I think you should tell him how you feel. Look this is my apartment, would you like to come up and I'll make us some coffee"

He nodded.

I showed him around the apartment. Then made the coffee. When I came into the living room he looked up at me and weakly smiled. He was holding a picture.

"Who is this with you?"

"That's Michael. My lover for twenty years."

"Where is he now?"

"He died, in a car accident eight years ago. I love him very much."


"No, love. I still love him. We were always faithful to each other."

He looked at the picture and the tears again poured from his eyes.

"Jason, it's okay. Life goes on."

He shook his head, "I am so selfish, I cry about Alex, but I can still laugh with him, fence, see him smile at me! You can never touch or hold Michael again all you have is this picture."

"No, Jason, no. I have my memories and I am certain that someday in another life we will be together again. Jason, remember true love is infinite, true love last forever. It's true Michael is not here in a body, but he is still here, in my heart, in my thoughts and sometimes even in my actions. When you die, would you want the person you love, to forever be miserable and mournful?"

"No," he thought for a while, "I would want Alex to be happy, to get on with his life and to perhaps find love again, so he could be happy."

"You are so much like Michael," I said sincerely.

He smiled.

That night I stayed up till three in the morning talking with Jason. He slept in the spare bedroom. That night I fell in love with him, not as a lover, but more like a father, as an advisor.

Since that time Jason visits me at least one a week and I look forward to it each week. I beginning to miss him on the days he's not here.

I met his parents a short time ago. His stepfather was your typical rude, brash American, but his mother was a lady. We talked for hours about Jason and Alex. She was a little worried about the situation with Alex. I told her not to worry these things have a way of working out.
Last week he gave me a beautiful pen and ink drawing of Michael and I. It's the most aesthetic drawing I've ever seen. You can clearly see me sitting in my chair with a book in front of the fireplace, and ever so vaguely in the background you can see Michael. You have to look closely, but he's there, sort of like his spirit is there. When he gave it to me it was framed and wrapped with a dear sweet note that made me cry it said "Papa, There was once a time when you touched my body and I yelled nasty things at you, but then you touched my heart and I was silent. This is only a small token of the love I have for you. Love is always and forever, Jason." It was the first time I really cried, no sobbed in front of him.

Jason is the son, I never had; never thought I could have.

It is Saturday today, I was planning to go to Marseille this weekend, but I had a late business meeting and decided to cancel the trip.

There was a knock at my door. I opened it.

"Jason?" It was Jason with his baggage.

"Papa." He cried. I helped him in with his baggage.

"Jason, why the tears? Why the baggage?" I asked.

"I've decided to leave; to go back home. My plane leaves tomorrow afternoon. Can I stay here the night"

"Yes, but why? What happened?"

He told me of what had happened at the cafe and what Ian had done.

"Jason, you must tell Alex about your love for him, before it is too late!"

"I can't do that to him. He loves her. Sven thinks they will be married next month! I don't want to ruin his life and cause his embarrassment. All I want is for him to be happy"

"Damn it boy, listen to me!" I said in a raised voice. I had is attention.

"When you first kissed me on the cheeks, what did you say? What do you always say?"

"It's a French thingy"

"And before that?" He smiled.

"I'm not gay."

"Now what if you were madly in love with someone guy always said, 'I'm not gay', are you going to tell your friend who always says I'm not gay that your gay?"

He was just beginning to see the light.

"Jason, remember two weeks ago you wanted to make me an apple pie?"


"You went to buy some apples and Alex stayed here. He never once mentioned Adrianna, once. All he talked about was you. Jason this. Jason that. I know he loves you, I know it in my heart."

He had seen the light!

"You think he really loves me like I love him?"

"In my heart, I know he does!" I chuckled.

In a flash he was gone.

I guess I'd better expect two, no maybe four for dinner tonight!


To be continued...

Hey Peeps - will these two ever get together or should this be a tragedy? Any comments appreciated! Later, wf