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19

 

"I thought about being naked in the bed when you got home from work, but I didn't want that to be my first use of the key," I said, as I used tongs to dish out salad on my plate.

"Sounds like a good first course to me," Mike said back.

He had prepared an amazing dinner. I remember he tried this before spring break — and I ruined it — so it was nice for Mike to do this again. I wanted to do it for him next time.

"How about next week you come home, and I have dinner waiting? You're getting to the end of the year. Are you days getting busier or lighter?"

"Both," he answered. "The last day of school is June 3. Those three days that week are a ... well, as a teacher I shouldn't call them a joke, but ..."

"But they're a joke," I said.

"We just have to have grades in by the end of May. So, this week is gearing up for final assignments. As a teacher, I need to keep students engaged, so once those tests are over, you still want students to look forward to the class. Or not run amuck, take your pick. So heavy grading will end next week. I'll have to get report cards ready. At the same time, once that pressure comes down, you still have to get creative with lesson plans."

"I see. Tricky." I looked around the kitchen. "So, if I planned dinner for next Tuesday, would 6 o'clock be okay. Or would you work later?"

"No. That sounds great. I'll make sure I get home around 5:30. Unless some stupid meeting is called. Principals love to hold meetings. But at this time of year, I can't imagine anything unusual coming up."

Mike had prepared pan-seared halibut, stir-fired veggies and a buttered rice. It was all delicious. He confessed he hadn't been able to prepare a dessert, but there was ice cream in the fridge. I suggested we grab something at the mall. I needed to pick up some thank you cards.

I helped clean up, and then we drove to Green Hills Mall.

Strolling the mall walkways, we commented on a few things in the store windows. I commented that I was going to have to boost my wardrobe if I got a professional job.

Mike saw Strawberry Feels and said he would get us a smoothie. I ducked into the bathroom, and we were to meet in the center. I got back first. There was a small line for refreshments; Mike was two away from the counter. The store to my right sold pianos. I walked over to look. I asked the salesman if I could play, and he encouraged me to do so. I played something I was very familiar with. The piano sounded great. Then I started in on my song.

Mike walked to the center and looked around for me. I waved to get his attention. He walked in and stood at my side, listening to me play for a couple minutes.

"How did I not know you played the piano? That was lovely."

"Thanks," I said.

He handed me the large smoothie. It was apparent that we were going to share. I waved to thank the store staff member as we exited.

"You keep finding new ways to impress me," Mike said. "What other secrets do I not know?"

"I'll never tell. It will keep you on your toes for months," I said with a smile. "Actually, that song you heard me play ...?"

"Yeah?"

"I wrote it."

"You wrote it!!? Trent, that's amazing. Your talents know no limits."

We continued to share the smoothie. I thought it was cute that two adult men were sharing a dessert. Maybe it was the newness of being gay, but tiny things like that made me happy on the inside.

"I wrote lyrics the other night, too. They're about us."

"No way!" Mike exclaimed. "You need to share it with me."

"Maybe one day. It probably would sound too gushy right now. I will probably tweak them."

He grabbed my wrist and led me to a bench. We sat and finished the drink. I noticed him looking at me and smiling.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"No one has ever written a song about me. You have no idea how special that is."

"How do you know?" I replied. "You might have students fawning over you all the time. You've probably inspired some poetry — from guys and girls!"

He chuckled. We didn't have much time, so we made our way to the card store. I found some thank you notes I liked.

By the time we got back to his house, it was 9:30. I knew I had an hour's drive back.

"I should probably let you wind down your night. I do have the drive ahead."

He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me.

"I know. I kind of wish you'd stay the night."

"Kind of?"

"Well, I totally wish you'd stay the night, but you have the parent thing to consider now. If you stayed here, they'd be worried or have a lot of questions. I understand."

"How about Friday night?" I said, giving him a quick kiss.

"Sounds great. Are you sure you need to go right away? I don't want to make you late, but ..."

His hand rubbed the front of my pants. He gripped my cock.

"Ohhhh," both of us said.

"Can we be fast?" I asked.

He didn't answer. He just pulled my shirt over my head. We began kissing. Heavily. We moved to the couch. As we kissed some more, both of us fumbled at trying to unbutton and unzip our pants. Mike was the first one free of his. He unbuttoned his shirt. His chest was exposed bare now. I stepped out of my clothes and moved closer. He spread his legs. His cock was stiff and jutting upward. I moved in and rubbed my dick against his. He grabbed them both in his hand and stroked them together as we began kissing again.

I moved down to take his erection into my mouth. I sucked his pole for several minutes. His moans let me know I was doing a good job. I paused for a moment to go turn out the lights. The room was dark, with only a small light from the stove in the kitchen offering the dimmest glow for us to maneuver.

I kissed him, and we wrapped our arms around each other. Kissing was our thing. It seemed even more intimate than the sex if that is actually possible. As we kissed, we pushed our cocks into each other's bodies. I had my arms around him, and he let his hands travel to my ass. He grabbed my cheeks and pushed my dick harder into his crotch. Our stiffened flesh rubbed into each other. It felt good.

I slipped back to his waist and engulfed his erection into my mouth again. I took all of it into my throat.

"Oh, Yeeeeeaaaaah, babe," he said approvingly. "You make my cock feel sooo good."

I sucked him hard. I slurped his staff up and down while one of my hands roamed through the hair on his chest. Mike moaned in pleasure, and my oral service became louder. Within minutes, his volume increased to groans and heavy gasping. I maneuvered my body so that I could rub my dick on his leg as I continued to suck his hardened meat. My cock felt like it was iron.

"Trent. Oh, Trent. My cock, oh yeah, my cock ... you make it so hard. You make it feel so good. Ohhhh, honey ... babe. I'm so close."

I sucked harder. My lips moistened every inch of his mast, sliding up and down with slippery ease. Mike began thrusting his hips, plunging his cock down my throat. He was groaning out loud as he fucked my face.

"Yeah. Oh, yeah. Ooooooohhh. I'm about to come, babe."

I grabbed his cock and pounded it with my fist. My mouth still consumed the head of his dick.

"Fuck yeah!!" he said, as cum started filling my mouth. I attempted to swallow it as fast as he shot it into my throat. Mike kept coming. I moaned as the liquid flowed into me. I jerked his cock so that I could taste every bit of what he had.

Eventually he laid still. His declining moan let me know he was spent. The seal of my mouth around his dick never left his enflamed skin. I let my mouth go all the way to the base of his shaft again, making sure to swallow every drip of cum that had escaped him. Gently, I released his erection from its captor.

I worked one knee between his body and the back of the couch. My leg sandwiched in, the other one straddled his balls with my foot reaching to the floor. I grabbed my long phallus and stroked it with a powerful full throttle. Hums became moans. Moans became groans. I was jacking off above his crotch with a fierceness that made me loud.

He leaned up to kiss me as I masturbated over his body.

"Yeah, Trent," he whispered. "Come all over my chest. Fire your load all over me."

He laid back down. I continued my jerking rhythm. I started groaning again. My breathing was heavy, and my groans became gasps for air. My arm pounded my cock, the entire length of it. My hard-on felt incredible. The nerves in my dick were energized.

"Oh, Mike. Oh, Mike. Oh, Mike."

"That's it babe. Shoot it on me."

I pulled and yanked. My groaning transformed into a pleading whine.

"I'm so close, Mike."

"Yeah, Trent. Yeah. Come for me."

My cock felt like a cannon on a tank — hard, stiff, ready to explode. My climax was building.

"Ohhhhhh yeahhhh. I'm there!"

My first shot traveled far. It hit Mike on the neck. My cum continued to land on his chest. My orgasm was intense, as were my screams. My last emission dripped from my cock to Mike's navel. It was dark, but I knew his chest was a mess with my cream.

"Oh. Fuck. Yeah," I said as my breathing started returning to normal.

I put my hand on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss him.

"I guess I should find something to clean you up," I said.

He kissed me again.

"Actually, you need to get on the road. Just get dressed. I think I'll lie here like this for a while."

"Really??"

"Yeah. This has to last me until Friday ..."

"Three whole days."

"... but what a way to end my evening, laying here naked, with passion from my hunk of a boyfriend dripped all over me. It sounds hot."

"You make it sound hot," I said. "But that's because you are hot. And twisted. Which is a good thing."

I moved my cock to his mouth and let him lick the last drops of cum off the head. Like a succulent gourmet dish, he tasted my dick for a moment before I pulled it away. I got dressed in the dark and gave Mike one last kiss over the couch. I bobbed his dick with my finger. It was slightly sticky.

"I love you. Good night."

"Night babe," my man's voice in the dark called back.

I got back to the house 50 minutes later.

"Wanted you to know I made it back," I texted.

"Thanks for letting me know. I just cleaned your cum off me a few minutes ago. I was at peace on the couch. Just thinking about you. Still feeling your love dripped all over me."

"Do all gay people talk this dirty?"

"If they're fun like us, they do. But who could be as fun as us?"

 

May 19

Mike's a great cook. We had a nice night. Every time I'm with him, I feel even more in love. Is there a roof to such a feeling?

How nice not to have to study. It feels kind of weird.

 

I placed my thank you cards on the dining room table alongside my list. I'd write them first thing tomorrow.

 

 

I spent the morning writing thank you notes. It felt repetitive after several, but it wasn't like the recipient would know. These people were so kind with their gifts. My words were completely sincere.

The day felt a bit empty. I was struggling to relax. I had been working so hard these past years to get through college. So now what? I knew I needed to begin the job search. Do you do that just a couple of days after graduation? I envied Lance. He had something set up. Somehow, I didn't feel like it was what he wanted, but he didn't have that unknown hanging over his head. He already knew where he was going to live.

In the afternoon, I took a long run. It was close to 90 minutes. Dad was at work, and Mom had her Monday/Wednesday/Friday afternoon shifts at JC Penny's. It was quiet around the house.

I pulled out the journal and flipped halfway through to some blank pages. I started scribbling down some notes and ideas for — dared I say it? — The Showcase. Everyone had always encouraged me. Did I think I had a starting point? A good enough idea?

After dabbling with a few thoughts on paper, I went into the living room. I always found the piano comforting. I played some Elton John, some Coldplay and then my song. The more I played it, the more I liked it. I experimented with a couple of variations. The lyrics worked well. I don't often let people hear me sing, but I enjoy it. I wondered if I would ever play this for Mike. I figured I'd have to at some point.

Mom got home first. I helped her get things ready for dinner. She appreciated the table already being set. I thought she would. She let me know she had lunch plans for tomorrow, hoping I would be okay on my own. I assured her it was no problem. I thought about giving Lance a call and spending some time with him.

Following dinner, we made a family night of it. With both parents being out most of the day, I felt like they thought they "owed" me some quality time. Even though I assured them that as a college graduate, I'm fine on my own, I had to admit I enjoyed the evening.

As we watched some favorite sitcoms, one of the plots involved a gay character. It was the first time — since I admitted that I was gay — that I had watched a program with them that involved someone being gay. In the past, I may have squirmed, wondering if they might think I was gay. Particularly Dad. Now, I didn't give a damn. Mom knew. Perhaps she felt awkward. She got up to make herself a hot tea.

Before going to bed, I made some more notes in the journal.

 

 

The next day I got to Lance's apartment around 11. Neither of us were quite ready for lunch. With school out, we figured most restaurants near campus would be fairly quiet.

"What's it like having the place to yourself?" I asked.

"You know, I've never had a place to myself. It was ... different. It's always been home or college. It was nice to not have to worry about anyone else. If I felt like walking around naked, I could walk around naked."

"Oh, please. You've always felt comfortable walking around naked."

"True. I guess that comes with having a big dick."

"He said sooo humbly," I said sarcastically.

"Hey! We've always said we can tell each other anything," he rebuffed.

"Yes. We can."

"You know, I've never really ... flaunted my dick ... wanting to show it off. I think that's pretty stuck up. I've just never been shy; I have no inhibitions."

"That does explain part of your personality."

"Hmm. Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Neither. You're just not shy. When you feel confident and like you don't have anything to hide, it just becomes a part of who you are."

"I have private things. I don't throw everything out in the open."

"No. But you do your body. In our circle of friends, who hasn't seen your dick?"

"Well, that's not fair. Most of them are on a basketball team and we share a locker room."

"Or your roommates. Fair enough."

"Aaaand a couple other guys I've fooled around with, but not everybody.

"You've never told me about who else you are ... whatever you are doing with them," I said interested.

"Eh. They're not you. Steve. Peyton."

"I don't think I know them."

"Ash."

"You've fooled around with Ash!!!?"

"Once. I think he heard from a girl how ... big ... my dick was, and we spent some time together after that. I mean, just talking. And drinking. I think he felt he talked me into letting him see it. In reality, I couldn't wait to have him look at it. Touch it. Hold it."

"I am stunned," I said calmly. "I can't believe he's never mentioned it."

"Well, I asked him not to tell anyone. He said he could keep a secret."

"And I guess he has."

"We never did anything after that. I think he was curious. Me too."

"Steve was a sophomore. We were in the bathroom following one of my classes. We both saw each other looking at each other's dicks as we took a leak. He didn't have a lot, but it was nice looking. Remember that room you and I fooled around in?"

"Ugh! Yes!"

"He took me there first. We didn't kiss or anything. We just felt each other. I sucked him some. He got super hard and was easy in my ass. He was the first to fuck me. I did it one other time in his apartment between classes. I tried to fuck him, but he couldn't fit my cock in. It was just sex. It didn't mean anything."

I wasn't sure if he wanted me to respond. I didn't say anything.

"Randall was a senior in high school with me. We were on a debate trip. We shared a motel room with other guys on the team. Randall and I were in one bed. In the middle of the night, we heard the other guys snoring. Randall took my hand and placed it on his cock. He had taken off all his clothes underneath the covers. We jacked each other off. He wound up giving me a blowjob near the end of high school. I came in his mouth."

"You say all these things like ... like it's making a sandwich."

"We were kids. We were experimenting. Exploring. You didn't?"

"No. I'm sure I would have been terrified. For the longest time I denied it with every brain cell I could convince. My sophomore year here a senior talked me into going to bed with him. I'm not sure how. I guess I thought he was cute, and I threw caution to the wind. I actually slept with him the whole night. His roommates were even in the room."

"You had sex in front of his roommates?"

"Lord, no. We were there all evening before they got back. The first night he fucked me. The second time he made me suck him and ... "

I sighed, looking down in embarrassment.

"... and made me swallow his ... Anyway, he asked me to leave after that. We didn't kiss once. I just felt like I was ... used. I was so disappointed and depressed; I knew I couldn't possibly be gay. Until this year. The guys on the team ... the showers ... you ... God, I was a wreck. Mike rescued me out of that."

"Didn't you play your sophomore and junior years, too?"

"Yeah. I wasn't as good as the older players. Coach didn't play me a lot. Some nights I didn't even need to shower. A lot of times I liked to get in the showers first, blast my dick with icy cold water and then get dressed and out."

"If only we talked back then," Lance said.

"Yeah. Hey! Hungry yet? How does pizza sound?"

Lance gave me a ridiculous look.

"Does pizza ever sound bad? How about we go back to Roman Column?"

Lance and I hadn't seen each other since the party, so it was a good time to catch up. I asked when he started the upcoming job, how he found the apartment and when his cousin arrived. It was easy to let him talk a while. The two of us just enjoyed being with each other. Had we really opened up a year or two ago, I can see our lives being very different. But at the same time, I don't know if I could continue to be with a person who wasn't sure who they were yet sexually. It seemed like all the answers were right in front of Lance, he just wouldn't look at them. Still, I loved our time together. We had grown so close. It just seemed like a giant leap from any other friendship I had ever had. Even with Matt. I hoped it didn't boil down to the sexual aspect. I really believed it was because we were so open. I don't think I could ever be that way with Matt. Having said that, I should try to still be in Matt and Ali's life as much as possible. Who knew how scary the real world would be? I should keep friends close.

Both of us agreed the pizza was great once again. We headed back to the apartment.

Back inside, I laid on the couch. Lance walked into the kitchen.

"I have Diet Coke. Want one?" he called to me.

"If you have enough. Thanks."

"If I have enough. I bought that for you, buddy."

I noticed he had a beer.

"Already?? Lance, buddy. Please. No."

He sighed. It was more of a teenager's groan. He took it back and returned with a flavored water. He popped both cans. He walked around the couch and handed me mine. Then he motioned to move my leg. Lance laid on the couch with me, placing his head on my chest. His legs hung off the end. I wasn't expecting that. I thought he would just take the chair. But the two of us were comfortable with each other. I loved our friendship.

"Tell me about your cousin," I asked.

Laying on top of me, Lance stared at the ceiling.

"He's nice. I guess. I've known him most of my life. He's a year older than me. We get along well at family gatherings. We played games when we were younger. Now that we're grown, we haven't visited as much at holidays and special occasions, but he's fine. I have no problem sharing an apartment with him. Afterall, we have strangers thrown at us at college. It should be easier, right?"

"Sure," I said. "I wish I knew what I was going to do. Driving back and forth from Toomerville is getting old. It's too bad he's coming. We could have shared a place."

Lance grabbed my hand and held it to his chest.

"Totally. Sadly, this has been set up since April. He doesn't move until the end of June, but one of my uncles is loaning him furniture. It arrives just when I am moving, so we can haul it all together. Man, that's next weekend." Lance paused. "I would have loved having you for a roommate."

"You're just picturing a sex romp night after night."

"No, I'm not. We're good together. We have each other's backs."

"Yes. We do."

We laid there quiet and still for a while. He was still holding my hand to his chest.

"I start work Monday," he said. "It feels a bit scary. At the same time, how awesome will it be to bring home an actual paycheck. An actual living!"

"You are fortunate you have all this in place. Looking for a job is the worst feeling. I dread it."

"At least you have Mike."

"It's not like he's going to pay me."

"Yeah, but the two of you will move in together soon."

"I'm not so sure. We don't want to rush anything. That's how things got off track at the start. He's still taking a risk on me."

"On you??! What's that mean?"

"Look at the age difference. Half the people our age switch boyfriends, girlfriends, lovers ... every other month. To move in with someone is a commitment. He knows I love him — God, I love him — but what if I turned out to be some flighty airhead that wanted someone else a few weeks later."

"That's not you," Lance said, defending me.

"No. Obviously. I think Mike knows that too. It's just smart to take things gradually. We'll know when it's right."

"Perhaps."

I sighed. "In the meantime, I need a place to live!"

Lance was quiet again.

"I would say you could share my room with me, but that would be asking a lot of my cousin."

"Not to mention, a bit cramped on space."

"True," he returned.

"And as if we could sleep together. I'd need to sleep with one eye open."

Lance unzipped his shorts. He pulled them down and his dick hung out. It hung for only a moment as it started to stiffen.

"Buddeeeee, what are you doing? You know I can't ..."

"I know you won't do anything," he said, slowly stroking his cock. "Just hold me. I'll take care of myself."

This was a bit odd, even for us. Yet at the same time, we held back nothing. We hid nothing. It's not like I hadn't seen his dick before. I had fucked the man. Twice. We were so comfortable together. I was as comfortable with Lance as I was with Mike.

I had seen it numerous times before, but it was still a marvel to see the enormity of Lance's organ. I couldn't ever picture something that size inside me. But it was amazing to play with.

"You know I can't do anything," I said again. "I won't."

"I know. I'm not expecting you to. Just shut up and hold me."

Lance alternated his stimulation, first on the last few inches of his dick with just his index finger and thumb. Then he would divert his efforts at the base with his whole fist, then just his thumb and index finger at the very bottom.

I liked Lance's bush. The hair had natural untamed masculinity. Watching him pleasure himself was hot. I wasn't sure it was wise to be in this situation, but I was comfortable in my loyalty to Mike. At the same time, it was undeniably hot, and my penis was a crowbar stuffed in my shorts. Lance could probably feel it in his back if he paid attention.

"Ohhh, Trent. I'm glad you're here. It makes this feel better."

He stroked the entire length — more than eight thick inches — with a muscled grip. I watched him for a couple of minutes. My own cock throbbed as I observed his personal preferences and techniques. I felt myself pushing my erection into his back.

"Tell me about you and Mike. What's he like?" he said in heavy breaths.

"That's private. It's between us," I responded.

"Tell me. What about him turns you on the most."

"I like his chest."

Lance stopped rubbing his cock and maneuvered his body up a foot closer. His head was now next to my chin. I could whisper in his ear.

"I love running my fingers through the hair on his chest. It makes me harder than all get out."

He returned to stimulate the last few inches of his dick. His erection seemed very red. His strokes screamed for lube, but it was too late for that. Lance was groaning. He had crossed that line of being able to stop, even if he wanted to do. I listened to the heavy breathing as he mixed his moans with a struggle for oxygen.

"Tell me more."

"When he comes, I love watching it mesh into the hair on his chest."

"Oh, God," he said, now stroking his full length.

"If I don't lick it off him, I love smearing all his cum into the hair. Sometimes when we come together, I like to smear my cock into all the cum mixed together, tangled in his hair. If I rub my balls in too, my entire crotch is sticky with our love."

"Oh, man. Oh God."

Lance pounded his pole like an oil pump on fast forward. He howled like a child who needed to be picked up. The pleasure in his crotch was causing him to buck his hips. I knew he was getting close. I reached down with both hands and pulled his shirt up out of the way of his eventual orgasm.

"More!"

"Tuesday night, I came all over his chest before I left. He laid there for more than a half hour, letting my cum rest on his chest. He didn't clean it off until I got home."

"Oh fuck!! I'm coming!"

I shoved my erection into his back. I pushed and rubbed it into his body. Lance's cock exploded. Cum dripped on his chest. It was thick and pearly white. I knew it was sticky and gooey. I pulled his shirt up another couple of inches.

Lance grabbed my hand again. He held it for a long moment. Then he pulled it down into the ejaculated liquid near his navel. He spread it through all his semen.

"You nut," I said. "Why did you do that?"

"Holy fuck. You make everything hot, Trent, even when you don't participate."

"Let me TRY to get out of here to get you something to clean up," I said with a bit of a scolding tone.

He leaned up, and I wriggled out. I rinsed his cum off my hands. I grabbed a wet washcloth out of the bathroom and tossed it to him. He started to wipe cum from his chest. I came out with a dry towel he had hanging so he could finish.

"Thanks, man," he said tucking his cock back in his shorts before drying off.

"Cool. Um. I'm going to grab a pair of underwear from your drawer."

"No need. I'm good."

"They're for me."

"What!!??"

I came in my pants just after you."

"What!!??"

"Could you not feel my erection pressed into your back?"

He nodded.

"Watching you work, it was very arousing. When I saw you come, my cock just erupted. I'd prefer not to go home with a wet spot soaking through my shorts."

"Why didn't you fucking say something? Fuck, if I knew you were coming behind me, I'd still be coming right now."

"Whatever. You're a freak. But I still love you," I said walking into the bedroom.

I grabbed a pair from his drawer and walked back out. I stripped my shorts and briefs off, and my cock hung in front of Lance. A bit of cum was smeared on the side. Most of it was being absorbed in my briefs. I grabbed the washcloth and cleaned my crotch. Then I reached for the towel. Lance reached for my dick, but I slapped his hand away.

I tossed my underwear by the door. Then I got completely dressed. Fifteen minutes later, I headed out.

 

 

Following dinner, I sat in the living room. We didn't have as much dinner conversation tonight. Dad talked a bit about the lawn and the weather; I mentioned enjoying my lunch with Lance.

Everyone seemed to be doing their own thing.

Later that evening, Dad was out in the backyard. Mom came in to sit with me.

"I want to tell you that I met with Professor Terry ... Michael ... for lunch today."

My eyes widened in utter shock.

"You what??!"

"I asked to meet for lunch, and he obliged."

"What! Where? When? How? WHY??!"

"That sounds like a journalist; your classes have paid off. I'm going to speak honestly with you. The age difference between the two of you bothered me."

"Mom! You had no right to do that!"

"You're my son, of course I did."

"Auuugh!" I screamed in disagreement. "How humiliating!"

"For whom? You or Mr. Terry?"

"Everyone! I can't believe you did that," I said without suppressing my anger.

"Before you go off the deep end, it was good," she said calmly. "As a mother, I wanted to make sure this older man wasn't somehow taking advantage of my son."

"Advantage? You love him. You've loved him since I was in high school."

"And that's part of it. You were his student. I hoped there was nothing unprofessional going on back then, but I wanted to talk things out with him."

I shut up. There certainly wasn't anything unprofessional back then, but our first day meeting again was pretty questionable. That would have looked bad. It was all my doing though.

"I expressed my concerns. He answered my questions honestly. I feel better about the whole thing. I'm not 100 percent sure that it is the best idea, but my fears have been put to rest."

"Mom! I went to him. He never pursued me. I needed his help, his counsel and that's what he gave me. We just developed feelings for each other. REAL feelings. But we put it on hold until college was done."

"He explained all that. I agree that was a good idea."

"I know it is hard for you to picture me as an adult. I'll always be your son. But please! Let me make my own decisions. I might make mistakes, but Mike isn't one of them. He's the best thing to ever happen to me. I've been unhappy for years. It finally came to a head. Mike helped me through it. But it was all me."

"Well, there are two of you in the situation, so it can't be all you. But I will say I know he has your best interests at heart. I didn't want to hide this. I wanted to be forward and honest."

"Well, I suppose there's that. But that doesn't make me any less angry. I'm going for a walk."

I threw open the front door and slammed it behind me.

Ten minutes into my walk, I had fumed and screamed internal dialogue arguments in my head far too long. How long could he put up with my family drama before I just became too high maintenance to put up with? I pulled out the phone and called Mike.

"Well, hey there, babe. I was wondering if you might call," he said.

"Why didn't you call me??"

"If this is about your mother, I wanted to give her time to approach you."

"I am SO sorry, Mike. I'm just mortified. How many times can I embarrass you before you feel I'm not worth it?"

"Now calm down, hon'. I'm okay. I was a bit taken aback when she contacted the school and left a message. But it's all understandable. She loves you and cares about you. I'm an older man. We knew going into this we would have a few hurdles. This is one of them."

"You're only 30. We aren't that far apart. I can't believe you are taking this so calmly. What did she ask you?"

"Part of the fear was that things were happening in high school. I quickly put that out of her mind. I told her until you walked into my classroom in February that we hadn't seen each other in almost seven years."

"I assume you didn't mention the shower," I said.

"Heavens, no. I'd have a bullet in my head probably if I did that. And you know I thought it was a terrible way for us to start. I regret it. BUT I don't regret you. Our start was probably not the best, but it got us to where we are."

"What else did she say?"

"Little things. She wanted to know why a man in his 30s would be interested in a college student. That let me tell her about all the things I love about you. What mother doesn't want to hear good things about her own son?"

"What kind of mother goes behind her son's back?"

"I'm assuming you talked to her some. How did she sound?"

"To be honest, I was screaming at her so much, I'm not sure I remember. I was livid. I do believe you convinced her that you weren't some evil pervert."

"A start. I guess."

"Well, she's always loved you, Mike, even back then." I paused, trying to remember what she said to me. "I do think she said she felt better about the whole thing. She's not wild about the age difference, but ... I guess she does realize we both love each other."

"Yes, we do. See. It's not as bad as you think."

"Maybe. I'm still going to be mad for a while."

"This is the worst thing to say to someone who is mad, but you sound very cute right now."

"Yuuugh! You're right. I don't want to be told I sound cute." My brow remained tense. "But thanks."

"So how was your day?" Mike asked to change the subject.

"Fine. Good. Saw Lance. If I hadn't already driven over and back, I'd drive to your place for the night."

"You saw Lance?" Mike asked, making me wonder if he'd prefer I stayed away from him.

"Yeah. Pizza for lunch. I'm envious as to where he knows where he is going to live and has a job lined up. At the same time, half his trash was filled with beer cans. I think it was more cans than food wrappers."

"Not good. What do you think?"

"He's my best friend. I care about him. I don't want to be a nag. He knows I love him, but at what point do your words stop meaning anything?"

"People who drink know they drink," Mike said. "Telling them they are drinking too much is not news to them. I really don't know what the answer is. Be there for him, maybe suggest other options?"

"Would you be willing to let him join us at a club in the gayborhood this weekend? Maybe if he met some other ... well, gay people."

"You realize clubs sell alcohol, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah. At least he wouldn't just be drinking alone in his apartment. Picturing that worries me."

"Well, I'm game if he is. It's Memorial Day weekend so ..."

"Oh yeah! It is. You know, wrapping up school, I totally forgot. You have a long weekend."

"Um hm. How long do you want to stay?"

"Right this minute, forever! But I'll play it by ear. We'll see how I feel tomorrow and how Mom and I do around each other. Tomorrow night's still okay, right?

"Whenever you want to come."

"Man, I feel better just talking to you. You are an amazing man, Michael Terry."

"Text me tomorrow either way. I can't wait to see you. I love you, Trent."

"Me too. Good night, hon'."

I got home and went straight to my room, shutting the door.

 

May 21

Well, I feel totally betrayed. Mom went behind my back to talk to Mike. The nerve!

Thankfully, he took it well. Between putting him on a pedestal in front of my friends at Parma Sean's, him getting stuck with sitting with my parents at graduation and now this ... thank heavens he hasn't written me off. Thank heavens he accepted my slipup with Lance.

Although I know her intentions were from caring about me, I'm not sure if I can forgive Mom. That was too big of a slap.

If Mom is this worked up, what will Dad be like?

 

 

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