Chapter 1

I was walking around Brian's loft, trying to get pumped up about this party. But with everything that had been going on--waiting for my test results, which came back negative, thank god--trying anything to reassure Emmett about his own test results--it was difficult to get in the mood. So instead of dancing to the thumping techno music, I wandered the party, alone.

I noticed Brian standing alone also, leaning against a pillar like an island in a sea of fun and celebration. He seemed more apart from things than usual. Serves him right. Look at the way he showed David up with his fancy present. It had to have been deliberate. I approached him and leaned next to him against the same pillar. Following his line of vision, I saw Michael dancing enthusiastically with the muscle-bound Captain Astro impersonator. We watched silently for a minute before I had to say something.

"Nice going on the gift. It couldn't have been more perfect."

Brian shot me a quick look, smiled thinly, and said, "Thanks."

I hoped to convey my sarcasm with my next words. "Yeah...And David's present didn't stand a chance. Then again, neither did he."

"Fuck off." That's Brian--eloquent as always. I knew that I would piss him off, but I had to get things off my chest.

"You just can't help yourself, can you? You have to make sure Michael regresses permanently to the age of twelve...He's thirty, for chrissakes, Brian. Don't you think it's time you let him go?"

"Well I'll tell you what...I will if you will."

"What?" He had thrown me off with his challenge. I felt like I was missing part of the conversation.

"Tell him you've been in love with him..." he paused and smirked at me in that way that I can't stand. "...for years."

I felt all the blood rush to my head. "What are you talkin' about?" was all I could say.

"Don't act so innocent. You know what I mean. The boys saw your pictures. They saw your little shrine to Mikey...when you were in your coma. Of course, I always knew. So as I said--you let him go and so will I." He straightened away from the column, clapped his hand on the nape of my neck and leaned his face close to my left ear. "Ladies first," he whispered, giving me a condescending pat on the cheek. I was too shocked to say anything. All this time and Michael had known!

I stumbled to the bar, still in shock and had I don't know how many beers. While I tried to drink away my problems, I continued to mull over my encounter with Brian. How was I ever going to face Michael again? People walked around me, chatting and getting drinks, but I barely noticed who they were or what they said. I snapped out of my trance when a familiar voice rang in my ear.

"Hey, Teddy." Michael touched his forehead to my right temple, making me ache to reciprocate. "Thanks again for the elephant underwear. They were really funny." He took a beer bottle from the bartender while I tried to figure out what to say.

"Yeah, right." My brain was in lock down.

He tried to reassure me. "No, really." Very sweet of him. My brain finally escaped its prison, allowing me to ask a question that had been burning in me.

"I bet you weren't expecting to see David here, huh?"

"Yeah, talk about surprises."

"So uh, you think you too might, uh...you know?" I don't know why I couldn't just say it...Wait. I did know why--I was terrified of the possible answer. His actual answer relieved me somewhat.

"I don't...I don't think so."

"That's too bad, I said, not entirely sincerely. "Say listen, I know there's this part of us that thinks we don't deserve to be loved--"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, bubbling with confusion.

"Let me finish." I couldn't let him distract me from what I wanted to say. I didn't know how long it would be before I could build up the nerve again. "So...we fall in love with someone we know we can't have, and who's never gonna love us. And we fantasize about the day when, uh, all of a sudden that he realizes and sees everything he's been missing, you know...and all our dreams come true. Only, uh, you know that day never comes, and before you know it, it's your fortieth birthday...it's your fiftieth birthday and...and you're still alone." His face had fallen and it had the saddest expression. I placed my hand on his shoulder and kept talking. "Don't let that happen to you, Michael. Love someone for real..." I took hold of his arms and turned him towards me. He looked up at me with wounded eyes. God, I felt like I was fucking this up! "...someone who loves you."

I leaned over to kiss him, aiming for his cheek. But on the way there, I veered off course and kissed his lips. Before he could say anything, before he could respond, I hugged him, feeling his heart beat against my chest. I could have cried when I felt his arms reach around me and his hands touch my back. I leaned back to look at his face and couldn't resist kissing him again. His lips opened to mine and suddenly I was in heaven...tasting him, kissing him, so close to him that we felt like one person. When I leaned back again to judge his reaction I was dismayed to see his stunned expression. Could I have been that wrong?

Regretfully, I released him. He swallowed several times and opened his mouth as if to speak. I decided to take the responsibility off his shoulders and declare myself clearly. "Love me, Michael."

When his face paled, my bravery slid to my shoes and slithered away, leaving me scared and vulnerable. I couldn't stand there any longer, waiting for him to reject me, so I walked away without another word and without looking back.

Love me, Michael.

He had said the words but I hadn't been sure if I had heard right. Even though I had known about his feelings towards me, it was completely different having him stand in front of me and state them out loud. There was no way to ignore them and pretend that they were something harmless that would go away on their own.

I struggled to find the right response but I wasn't fast enough. The uncomfortable silence between us lengthened and his face gradually closed off. When he walked away I should have run after him and said something, but I couldn't string two thoughts together to save my life. So I let him go and I hurt one of my closest friends. That was hours ago.

The rest of the party had gone by in a blur of dancing, drinking, and gossiping about who was doing what and who was doing who. I had a couple more dances with Captain Astro. I even danced with David, but we couldn't get beyond the awkwardness between us. I think he left early. I started to feel tired much earlier than I should have. I hated to be rude to all the guests, but I didn't know most of them, anyway. I said my good-byes to the people I did know and recruited Emmett to help me collect all my gifts and tote them home.

Back at our apartment both of us were quiet as we stored the presents in the closet. There was none of Emmett's usual after-party dish. To break the silence I blurted out my secret.

"Ted told me that he loves me, tonight."

Emmett had just been settling down onto the couch with a glass of warm milk and a plate of cookies. "Of course he does, sweetie. We all love you."

I sank into the couch, suddenly eager to spill everything. "No. He said he LOVES me--for real. As in 'in love.'"

Emmett responded with an underwhelming, "Oh," and continued to nibble at his cookie.

"Oh? That's all you have to say? What am I gonna do?"

"Well, honey, I guess it depends on how you feel about him."

That of course was the whole problem. My feelings were in a complete jumble and I needed help to sort them out. "He's one of my best friends," I said carefully.

"Uh huh," Emmett said just as carefully.

"But I'm not sure...I've never thought of him in...'that way.'"

"Why not?"

His question surprised me because it was a good one. Why hadn't I thought of Ted in that way before? He's smart, good-looking, funny, and nice. All good qualities...actually great qualities. And he was a friend on whom I could rely through thick or thin. Why not Ted?

"Well?"

I had forgotten that Emmett was sitting near me. "Well what?"

He shook his head, probably in pity for my spaciness. "Is there any reason that you couldn't be attracted to Ted?"

I didn't want to say "Brian" but his name hung between us confusing the issue. But Em knows me and I didn't have to say it.

"What if it never happens?"

He had lost me there. "What if what never happens?"

"This thing between you and Brian. What if he never smartens up and sees what's in front of him? Do you really want to be like him?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Do you really want to waste your whole life waiting for some untouchable goal and ignore the prize that's been waiting all along, with your name on it?"

His words were uncomfortably similar to Ted's earlier speech--so much so that I felt the need to escape. "I'm not wasting my life. Brian and I are just friends. I can handle that; it doesn't have to be anything more than it is."

Emmett sent me a look of pity. "It does if you're ever going to be truly happy. Otherwise, you'll be living half a life." With those words, he stood and walked to the kitchen. I heard the water running and the clink of glasses and stoneware. The water was turned off and he came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on his pants. "Please think about what I said, Michael...and have a happy birthday."

Some birthday this had turned out to be. I should have stuck to my original plan of sleeping through it. I turned off the living room lights and entered my lonely bedroom for the night.

Chapter 2

After I left the party and my disastrous announcement behind, I wandered the streets for an hour or so. I wanted to disappear into the faceless crowd where no one knew about my humiliation. How could I have been so stupid? Love me, Michael? I might as well have sat up and begged. No wonder he was so disgusted. When I realized that my long walk wasn't making me feel any better, I headed back to Brian's loft to get my car.

I was a block away when I saw them--Michael and Emmett--walking with several packages in their arms. One part of me--the overly guilty part--wanted to offer them a ride home. After all, I had driven them over and those packages looked unwieldy. I was dizzy with relief when a taxicab pulled up and they loaded the packages and themselves into it. I didn't feel ready to face either one of them. I was sure it wouldn't be long before Michael told Emmett what I had said. They would probably have a good laugh about it. They've probably been laughing ever since they first saw my "shrine."

My mother, just like everyone else's, always warned me to wear clean underwear in case I got into an accident. She never mentioned anything about locking up the evidence of your obsessions. I had worried that Michael had seen all the pictures I kept of him. When I came from the hospital, he acted a little weird--uncomfortable in a way we'd never been with each other. But the discomfort passed and I thought it was my imagination or maybe his discomfort was about my recent experiences. Now I knew the real reason and it made me want to go home and throw all the pictures out.

After the taxi departed, I rushed to my car, got in, and drove away before anyone could see me. It was only a short drive to my apartment, but it felt like a cross-country trek. I was standing in front of my apartment door, about to put the key in the lock, when I felt a wave of reluctance wash over me. What was I going to find in there to make me feel better? There was no lover to hug me and make love to me until I fell asleep. There was no friend to sit and just let me vent while he nodded in understanding. There was no puppy to lick my face and jump around my ankles in a friendly greeting. There wasn't even a goldfish. No. All I had was my opera music, stacks of porn, way too many dildos, and my pictures of Michael.

If I could have thought of somewhere else to go, I wouldn't have entered my "Fortress of Solitude." But it was late, and my two best friends were the ones I needed to avoid until I could figure out how to deal with everything. I entered the apartment and flipped on the lights. After I turned on some jazz music and changed into comfortable clothes, it didn't feel so bad. Lonely though it may have been, it was still home and had good memories tucked into every corner. I entered my bedroom and opened the armoire. There was no point in avoiding the inevitable.

I never consciously intended to start a collection of images of Michael. It grew without my realizing. Whenever I had a camera out, I took pictures of everyone, but the ones of Michael always seemed to be my favorite. So of course, I wanted to keep my favorite pictures where I could see them all the time. At first they used to be on the fridge. But one day, Emmett was over and was looking at the fridge. He asked me why there weren't any pictures of him. There were, but they were hidden behind the many pictures of Michael. That was when I realized that I better move my collage to a more private place.

I pulled one of the pictures off the armoire door and looked at it more closely. Michael was shirtless and laughing in it. I loved the shirtless look, even though his body was pale and his arms were a little red, but my favorite part of the picture was his face. He was smiling and laughing with unrestrained joy that lit up his whole being. At the time I took the picture I had been thinking, "I wish I could feel as happy as he does." Not that I'm depressed, because I'm not. But I don't think I've ever been sparkling with happiness like Michael. I've always wanted to ask him how he does it. How do you look on the sunny side of life when you're alone, and you're stuck in a job you hate, and you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back? I could never ask Michael a question like that without making the smile evaporate, so I looked at his pictures instead and tried to figure out his secret.

I put the picture back and decided to go to bed. The cool sheets warmed up soon and I fell asleep and tried to think happy thoughts.

I was tossing and turning in bed, trying to fall asleep. I thought about getting some warm milk like Emmett had done, but that would mean getting out of the bed and braving the cold wooden floors. I preferred to toss and turn. I was lying on the bed, counting sheep when the doorbell rang. Great. Who could be here this late? I waited, hoping Emmett would get the door, but was disappointed when the bell rang two more times. I got out of bed and walked to the door feeling resentful even thought I hadn't actually been sleeping. I opened the door and Ted was standing there. Oh, shit. Suddenly I was fully awake.

"Come in, Ted," I was able to whisper, not knowing when I had lost my voice.

He entered the apartment and stood there waiting--for what? I don't know. Usually he would just make himself comfortable without an invitation, but tonight was different.

"We need to talk," I said, my voice a little louder. I took a quick look at Emmett's room. Good. The lights were off and hopefully he was asleep. I didn't want to talk where there might be an audience, and our apartment is not that big. "You wanna take a walk outside?"

He shook his head, no. "It's too cold."

My eyes swept the apartment, running through the options. "My room?"

"Okay."

"You want something to drink?"

"No, I think I've had enough for one night."

"Not even coffee or tea?"

"No, thanks. I'd rather just talk."

We entered the bedroom and sat on the bed. I flipped on the bedside lamp, which bathed the room in a soft, yellow glow. It was like we were cocooned in a safe place. I started to feel a little less nervous. This was Teddy, after all--one of my best friends.

"Teddy--" I began.

"Michael--" he began at the same time. We both stopped and laughed and felt the tension ease a little.

"Teddy, please let me talk first. I didn't get a chance to say anything earlier."

He nodded for me to continue. My nervousness came back in spades, but I forced myself to say what I needed to say. "Teddy, you and I have been friends for a long time. I treasure that friendship more than you can imagine. I can't imagine my life without your loyalty and your support and..." I looked up and found him staring at me and was fascinated by his eyelashes. I cleared my throat to try to get back on track. "...your friendship. We've always been there for each other, and I love you like a..." His big brown, eyes were distracting me again. I had been about to say, "like a brother," but suddenly those words seemed like a huge lie. I've never had a brother, but I'm sure his dark, bottomless eyes, fringed by thick, long eyelashes wouldn't fascinate me like this. And if he were my brother, I wouldn't be itching to lean over and see if that kiss was as good as I thought it was and if it could be repeated.

I tried to continue. "We've been friends for a long time," I said helplessly.

"You already said that, Michael," he told me gently. He reached out to pat my hand where it was lying on my lap and left it there. That meant that I could feel his warmth through my thigh. The warmth seemed to grow and spread in every direction, and left me unable to finish my thoughts.

"Ted?"

"Yes, Michael?"

I didn't know what I was going to say until the words were out there. "May I kiss you?" I took the look in his eyes for a yes and I leaned over and tasted his lips. At first he was as still as a statue, but I encouraged him with my mouth and my tongue until he started to respond. I closed my eyes so I could concentrate on the sensations of soft, moist tongues battling, hard smooth teeth, and warm breath. We ended up laying on the bed, him on the bottom, me on top, wrestling with each other's clothes, while trying not to lose lip-to-lip contact. I could feel his hands everywhere all at once and it felt like my skin was on fire. I tried to touch every patch of skin I could reach, but all his clothes were getting in the way. I pulled his shirt out of his pants and touched his bare stomach, but I wanted--needed--to feel him against my own bare skin. I rolled to the side to get better access and found myself traveling the short distance to the floor. The shock of hitting the floor made me open my eyes, which were greeted with darkness.

The room quiet and the lamp was off. I was alone, tangled in my own sheets on the floor, and wondering how a dream could feel so real. I picked myself up off the floor and sat on the bed, trying to reorient myself. The dream was still there--every moment of it. I stood and grabbed my jacket from where I'd thrown it on the floor. I dug around in the pockets until I found what I needed.

I had finally fallen asleep to pseudo-happy thoughts when the ringing phone brought me back to sad reality. I tried to read the clock without lifting my head--three a.m. Who could be calling now? My heart started to pound at the thought of some emergency somewhere and I fumbled for the phone on my nightstand. I flipped it open, starting to panic, and said, "Hello?" in a rush.

A moment of hesitation and Michael's voice came across the line. "Ted?"

I sank back against the pillows, my panic starting to dissipate. "Yes, it's me Michael. What's wrong?" Later on, I would try to figure out how I could have been so calm when earlier I had felt so nervous.

"Teddy..." He hesitated again while I waited with bated breath for his next words. They didn't take long. "We need to talk."

Chapter 3

"What do you want to talk about?"

I wish now that I had waited before calling. I should have thought about what I would say. I guess when I was dialing Ted's number, I half-expected him not to answer. Now I felt on the spot and unprepared. "Um, about what you said earlier tonight."

"What I said? What do you mean?"

Crap! Was it possible that he didn't remember? I flirted with that idea then abandoned it. He may have been drinking, but he hadn't been THAT drunk. "Are you gonna make this more difficult than it has to be, Ted? We both know what you said."

I heard him sigh on the phone. "Michael, I shouldn't have said what I did. Blame it on the alcohol and the flashing lights. Just forget the conversation ever happened."

"But Ted--"

"You know what?" he interrupted. "It's really late and I have an appointment early in the morning. Maybe we can talk about this some other time. Sorry. G'night."

And then he hung up on me. I stared at the phone in my hand as if it could explain to me what had just happened. Dialing Ted's number again got me nowhere. He was letting the answering machine pick up. Either he couldn't hear my messages or he was ignoring them. I had half a mind to drive over to his apartment, but I figured that maybe it would be better if we both slept on it for a while and talked in the morning. I climbed into bed, holding the phone in my hand in case Ted decided to call me back. It was a long time before I fell asleep and when I did, I dreamed all night about things I hadn't dreamt of before tonight.

"Ted. This is Michael again. Will you please pick up? I really want to talk to you...Ted?...Fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Maybe we can meet for lunch. Ted? If you're listening, please don't ignore this message...Uh...Okay, I'm hanging up now. If you don't call me, I'll call--BEEP."

I hit the button to erase the message, drank the last of my coffee, and looked at my watch. It was almost time for me to go pick up Emmett for our trip to the clinic. He had been a nervous wreck since he received that cryptic message about his test results. I took my jacket and my briefcase and left my apartment.

I was able to forget about last night--or really this morning--by listening to the news. Stock prices were down, unemployment rates were up, and somewhere someone was complaining about a politician. I switched the car radio to a station where they were talking about weather and traffic. The turnpike was backed up due to an overturned tractor-trailer; there were no delays on the parkway; Clouds but no rain were predicted for this afternoon. I made it all the way to Emmett and Michael's apartment without thinking about "it."

I parked the car and jogged up the steps to their apartment door. A few seconds after I rang the doorbell, Emmett came to the door and let me in.

"Mornin' Teddy. Let me just fix my face and I'll be right with you." He strolled into his room and did whatever involved fixing his face before coming back out looking no different than before he went in. "All ready. Let's go."

We walked out to my car and climbed in. "Are you sure you don't want to grab some breakfast at the diner? We're going to be really early."

"Oh no," he said shaking his head emphatically. "I just need to get this over with. I couldn't possibly eat until then."

"You're always careful. I'm sure everything will be ok," I said not feeling like I was being sufficiently reassuring.

Emmett patted my hand, which was gripping the steering wheel. "Thanks, hon. I'll just have to wait and see." He was unusually quiet. I hoped that it was only because of his worry about the test.

"So, uh...how was Michael last night?"

"Just fine. We were both tired so we left a little early. Not as early as you though." There was a question in his voice.

"Yeah, well, I hadn't slept well the night before and I knew that I had to get up early today. Sorry about ditching you guys."

"Mmm hmm," he said, sounding only vaguely interested in my response.

"Did Michael say anything to you?" I rushed to add, "...about the party, I mean. Did he say anything about the party?"

I saw the curious look that Emmett gave me out of the corner of my eye. "If you wanna know, why don't you just ask?"

"Ask what? I was just wondering if he enjoyed the party. That's all. I wasn't wondering anything else." I knew that I was protesting too much, but I could feel Emmett's disbelief radiating from his side of the car.

"Teddy," he said, and then stopped. I turned to look at him and he was staring at me, one eyebrow raised and his arms folded. I think that's the international sign for "Confess. The game is up." I looked away and concentrated on my driving for a few blocks before I succumbed to his powers.

"Did Michael tell you what I told him?" This kind of gossip session took me right back to my high school days, but I needed to know.

"Yes he did. He seemed pretty confused about it. So do you, for that matter."

"Well it was just a mistake. I'd been drinking and I wasn't thinking--"

"Ted." Emmett had laid his hand on my arm. "If you want to talk, we'll talk. You don't have to make any excuses about what you said."

"What excuses? Who's making excuses? That wasn't an excuse." But it was, and a lame one at that. "Was he freaked out?"

"Noooo..." Emmett drew the word out. "It was more like he was surprised and thoughtful...and a little confused."

"Thoughtful? What was he thinking about?"

"Maybe you should ask him that. I'm sure he'll want to talk to you soon."

"Yeah, sure," I mumbled. Maybe after I blew him off, he changed his mind about talking to me. I still can't believe that I hung up on him. He was probably furious. That's probably why he wanted to talk to me--to tell me off. My stomach started to churn all the coffee I had downed this morning. "Em, I appreciate the listening ear, but I'd rather not talk about this anymore. This morning should be all about you."

"Well, Ted, I'D rather not think about my test results for the next two hours. I need something to distract me."

"Are you sure you don't want to stop for breakfast?"

"Are you really hungry?"

I pondered the knots in my stomach. "No, I guess not." We kept driving to the clinic and tried to talk about other things.

"Mike. Can I talk to you later? I need next Tuesday off for a doctor's appointment."

"Mike. Cindy needs you up front. There's a customer trying to return an open box of cookies."

"Do you have a minute, Mike? We're running low on bathroom tissue and napkins. People are starting to complain."

I answered the hundred and one questions that everyone tossed my way, without really paying attention to their words or my own. As soon as I could, I escaped to the back room and called Ted's office. I got his voicemail again so I hung up. I juggled the phone in my hand trying to decide what to do. While I was weighing my options, Andrew walked by. Bingo.

"Andrew!"

"Yeah?" Ever since I'd been promoted over him, Andrew had been a resentful little twit and very unpleasant to work with. I had to ignore that because I needed a favor.

"Andrew, I need you to cover me. I need an extra half hour for lunch today."

"Sure, no problem...boss." He took the keys to the safe from me and walked away. When his back was turned I could hear him muttering loud enough for me to hear, "Am I going to get paid for doing your job, asshole?" If I could have spared the time, I would have dealt with him, but I wanted to get over to Ted's office and back within the hour and a half. I couldn't trust Andrew with the reigns of power for much longer than that. I called a cab and waited out front. It arrived and I was soon on my way.

"Mr. Schmidt, there's someone here to see you." I looked up at one of the young secretaries who was standing in the doorway to my office.

"Who is it, Marcia?"

"It's me, Ted." Michael stepped out from behind Marcia and smiled shyly. He looked at her, then back at me. "You said you would look at that, uh, financial proposal we had talked about, remember?"

"Oh. Sure, I remember. Come on in. Thanks Marcia."

"No problem," she said brightly, closing the door behind her.

Michael stepped farther into the room and then stood there, looking as nervous as I felt. "You didn't call me back."

"No. I'm sorry, but I had that early appointment with Emmett."

"I know," he whispered. "Emmett left me a note saying he was going to the doctor...Was everything okay?"

"Yes. Everything was fine."

He took another step towards my desk. "Is it okay if I sit down?"

"Actually, now is not a good time. My boss just gave me a very complex account and I need a lot of time to crunch the numbers. He's expecting a preliminary report this afternoon."

Michael walked quickly to one of the empty chairs and perched on the edge. "I promise it won't take long."

"Michael--"

"Ted, please." He looked at me with those puppy dog eyes and I couldn't refuse.

"Go ahead. Talk."

"At the party, when you told me...when you said, 'Love me,' you surprised me. We've been friends for so long and I never realized that you felt like that about me--"

"Brian told me you found my pictures," I said. It was time to get everything out in the open. I could tell that I had surprised him again.

"Oh. He didn't tell me he told you...When you came home from the hospital I wanted to talk to you about it, but it felt too weird."

His every word was making me sink lower and lower. "Sorry."

"No! Don't misunderstand me. I don't think that YOU'RE weird--just the situation. I wasn't sure how to handle it." He lapsed into silence which I was quick to fill.

"Michael, I understand that you don't feel the same about me as I do about you. I am a grown man; I can deal with it. You don't have to say anything to make me feel better." He was staring at the space between his feet and shaking his head. "Really. I won't shatter. We can even still hang out," I said laughing, although I was starting to wonder if we really could be friends like we had before. It might be too--weird, for lack of a better word.

He was still shaking his head when he finally looked up at me. "No. You're not listening to me. You're not giving me a chance to explain." He stared at me, breathing deeply, and his eyes glistening--with tears. His mouth started working and then he started biting his lip. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath as if preparing for a difficult task. "I-love-you-and-I-want-to-try." He said the words so fast and so close together that I was sure I must have misunderstood.

"Huh?" was my brilliant response.

He stood, walked around to my side of the desk, and leaned in close to my ear. "I love you and I want us to try to be together," he whispered gently in my ear. Then he leaned back again, grasped my chin in his hand and kissed me full on the mouth. My heart was beating too loud for me to hear anything around me. My hands were trembling. It's a good thing that there wasn't a fire in the building that day. I would have never made it out on my shaky legs. The kiss didn't last long--really just a peck, but it didn't leave me any less affected.

"Can I come over to your place tonight?"

I nodded dumbly and watched him smile that unforgettable smile. He pressed his lips to mine again and then bounced out of my office, humming an unrecognizable tune. I let out the breath I had been holding in a big whoosh and leaned back in my chair, feeling boneless. Later on, my boss wandered into my office and asked me for the report. I made some excuse as to why it couldn't be done today and why I had to leave early today--those darned family emergencies. I grabbed my briefcase and ran out the door, all the while making a list of what I would need to get ready for tonight. Tonight! I wanted to burst into song like they do in operas and musicals, but that's not allowed at my workplace. I had to run back to the office and get my jacket before I ran back to the elevator.

Jan, one of the other workers in the secretarial pool was waiting for the elevator too. "Did you win the lottery or something, Mr. Schmidt?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

An elevator going up opened and she stepped in and turned around to face the front. "It's just that I've never seen you look this happy before. Have a nice day," she said before the elevator doors closed. An elevator going down opened and I stepped in. There was a mirrored ceiling in which I could see myself. I was grinning from ear to ear like a fool, but I didn't care.

Chapter 4

"Back so soon?" Andrew said sarcastically. "I thought I was going to have to send out a search party."

The little asshole knew that I was only five minutes late. "Just give me the keys, Andrew. I don't have time for this." I grabbed the store keys and walked away, hearing him mutter, "Prima Donna" under his breath. One of these days, when my mind's not spinning with other things in my Real Life, I'll have to have a "talk" with Andrew.

The rest of my day at the Big Q flew by at the speed of light. The hundred and one new questions didn't bother me. The annoying customers didn't ruffle my feathers. I was in a completely different world, thinking about what might happen tonight. Closing time arrived before I knew it. After running to a neighborhood bank to drop off the nightly deposit, locking up the registers, and making sure that the store was cleaned for the night, it was time to go.

I walked to the bus stop slowly, mentally running through the list of things I needed to do: shower, pick out something to wear, maybe bring a bottle of wine? I couldn't be sure what to pick, but David had given me a few pointers about choosing wine I thought I could pick something decent. When it arrived, I boarded the bus and slid into a seat. I was careful not to crush the bouquet of flowers I had picked from the Q's garden department. Soon I arrived at my stop, climbed off the bus, and walked the few short blocks to my apartment.

A couple of hours later, I was almost ready, when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Brian leaning lazily against the jamb.

"Hey Mikey." He bent to give me a quick peck on the lips before walking in and plopping himself down on the couch. "You didn't call me today. What's wrong?"

I closed the door and tried to think of something that wouldn't raise his suspicions. I wasn't ready to talk about Ted with Brian because I was afraid that he wouldn't let me hear the end of it.

"Sorry. I was swamped with work. There was an unexpected rush of customers and two of the cashiers called in sick at the last minute. I just totally lost track of time. I was going to call you tonight." All of that was true except the last bit, so hopefully I had been convincing.

He squinted at me with a suspicious look. "Okay..." he drawled. Are you up for some pool at Woody's tonight? They're giving out free buffalo wings for an hour."

"No, not tonight. I'm kind of tired. I'll probably turn in early and get an early start at work tomorrow," I said, lying with a straight face. "Maybe we could go out after that?"

"Wow--turning down an offer of free buffalo wings--I'm amazed." Brian eased himself off the couch and ambled to the kitchen. He walked past where I was sitting on a chair and sniffed the air in my general vicinity. He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, calling out as he searched its contents, "Since when do you shower, shave, and put on cologne for a night at home?" He rifled through a drawer and pulled out a bottle opener for the beer in his hand. There was no way to miss the bouquet on the counter. "And are these flowers for me, Mikey? Really, you shouldn't have."

I've always been a terrible liar and this time was no exception. I gave up trying to deceive and chose to openly hide the truth. "I don't wanna talk about," I mumbled.

"Aww, does little Mikey have a hot date tonight?" He walked back into the living room and sat on the couch across from me. "Who is it? Tell Daddy Brian. He wants to know."

I could feel myself blushing, so I knew he would never believe my denials. All I could do was refuse to answer. He wouldn't give up his interrogation, though.

"Is it someone you met at the party? Maybe that Captain Astro?" He looked at me carefully. "No. I'm pretty sure I saw him hook up with one of my old tricks...Or could it be the debonair Dr. David? I saw him watching you while you were dancing. He was positively seething with jealousy." He cocked his head to the side, undaunted by my silence. "Or it someone new?"

The front door opened without ceremony and Emmett swept in with a happier look on his face than I had seen in the last few days. "Hello gentlemen," he sang with a cheery smile. "How are we this fine evening?"

Brian looked at Emmett with a smirk. "Did Streisand put out a new CD or something? You're in an especially good mood." He eyed Emmett thoughtfully and added, "Or maybe you have a hot date tonight?" He looked quickly at me to gauge my reaction, but I refused to look him in the eye. Let him wonder, because for once, I wasn't telling.

Emmett responded, oblivious to Brian's hinting. "No. No new CD from Barbra. No hot date--just some very good news from the doctor today. In fact, I don't think I'll be going on any dates anytime in the near future." He headed towards his bedroom. "Sorry to be rude, but I have to get ready for church. Later!" He closed his bedroom door before either Brian and I could lift our jaws from the floor. Brian was the first to recover.

"Do you think that this is the first sign that all the fumes from pleather, cheap nylon, and polyester has finally soaked in and warped his brain?"

I shook my head, still completely dumbfounded. "I don't know WHAT'S going on. I'll have to talk to him later and get the scoop."

"Why not ask him now?...Oh I'm sorry. Still not quite ready for your date, with Mr. Wonderful?"

"Brian, will you please just drop it?" I was starting to get genuinely annoyed at his little digs.

"Fine. If after sixteen years of friendship you feel like you can't confide in me, then what else can I do?" He arranged his face into an expression of mock pain and sighed tragically.

"Good. I'm glad you understand," I replied, ignoring the sarcasm of his statement. I stood and said, "Emmett's getting ready for...church..." I never thought I would say those words unless I was referring to a wedding or a funeral. "...and I'm leaving soon. So I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" He took my blatant hint and stood to leave. I walked him to the door, eager to get him out so I could finish getting ready. I was basically done, but I still needed to give myself a pep talk before leaving. He turned in the doorway and looked at me.

"Be careful, Mikey. Don't rush anything. You always get your heart broken that way." He bent and kissed me again and then disappeared down the stairs. I closed the door and leaned against it, needing my self-directed pep talk even more.

Everything was ready. My apartment was sparkling; I had placed a fresh tablecloth on the dining table and found candles to place in the center. A few strategic lamps were lit, casting a romantic glow on the living room. My favorite jazz CD was playing on the stereo. I had cooked a simple dinner of grilled chicken breast, roasted garlic potatoes, steamed asparagus, and baby carrots. All I needed now was the guy, I laughed to myself. I wasn't even sure if he would want to eat, but I was too nervous to call him and ask. I could always save it for later tonight, or tomorrow, if he didn't stay long. I kept my fingers crossed that he would at least have dinner with me and we could talk. Anything beyond that would be a bonus. I checked the time again. I hadn't felt this nervous on a first date, in long time. Then again, it had been a long time since I'd had a first date.

The phone rang, startling me out of my musings. "Hello?"

"Hi Ted, its me." Oh no--Michael. I crossed my fingers and my toes in hopes that he wasn't calling to cancel.

"I was just calling to check if I could come over now. We never actually set a time." He giggled nervously and immediately I felt better. I wasn't the only one who was a basket of nerves.

"You can come right now," I replied, a little overeagerly. "I mean, anytime is okay with me. I hope you haven't eaten yet."

"No--not yet. I was too..." he cut himself off before finishing, but I was sure he had been about to say 'nervous.'

"Yeah. While I was getting ready, I started to feel...the same. Silly, huh? It's not like we haven't known each other for years."

I heard him laugh and I thought he sounded relieved. "Yes. It is sort of silly. I'll be over there within half an hour. I'll pick up some wine on the way over."

"Fantastic. I'll be waiting." With bells on, I didn't add.

"Bye."

"See you soon."

We both hung up and I looked around the apartment again. There were clean towels and new soap in the bathroom and the living room curtains were open to let in the view. I felt as ready as I could be, so I sat on the couch and let the music from my stereo wash over me in a soothing manner. Not much longer to go.

I arrived at Ted's apartment exactly thirty minutes later. I knocked on the door and waited, bouquet and wine bottle in hand. The door opened and Ted, who looked handsome in a white linen shirt open at the neck and flatteringly tailored charcoal pants, greeted me. I felt grubby in comparison, but it was too late to back out now. He welcomed me into the apartment.

"I'll take those." He accepted the wine and the bouquet. "Beautiful flowers. I know just where to put them--and a very good choice on the wine. Thank you." He kissed me on the cheek and then walked to the small dining area, leaving me bemused and with a sudden desire to touch my cheek where it had been kissed. My eyes took in the table set with care, the crystal glasses, lighted candles, and a ready ice bucket. I wandered around, seeing Ted's home through new eyes. The rest of the apartment was bathed in warm, muted light. The lights of the city twinkled through his front window. He put the wine in the ice bucket and searched through a corner cabinet until he found a vase for the flowers. They joined the candles and the wine in the center of the table.

"Would you like a drink before dinner?"

"Sure. Whatever you're having is fine."

He turned to the bar in the dining room and poured us a couple of drinks. We walked to his couch and sat down. We sipped at our scotch, neither speaking until finally Ted asked the question, "What made you change your mind?"

"Change my mind? How do you mean?"

He looked down at his drink, seemingly choosing his words, and then he looked up and fixed his gaze on me. In an echo of last night's dream, I felt myself getting lost in his eyes, just like a cheesy pop song I remember from high school. It was hard to concentrate on the answer to my question.

"At the party, when I told you...when I told you how I felt, you seemed freaked out...even horrified."

I turned my body so were facing each other on the couch. "I may have been freaked, but I definitely wasn't horrified. It was just...unexpected and I was so scared of saying something stupid that I just froze. I was afraid of putting my foot in mouth like I usually do. Before I could say anything, you took off and I knew I had made you angry and hurt."

"I wasn't so much angry as I was embarrassed. I was sure that you were thinking how pathetic I was--especially because Brian had just told me that you knew about the pictures in my armoire. You never said anything; I assumed that's because you could never be interested in me."

That was a difficult thing to explain. I had tried earlier, without much success, apparently. "I wasn't ready, at the time--not for a real relationship. With Brian, it was always a fantasy, which I knew would probably never happen. It was safe. Later on with David--I loved him, but my whole heart wasn't in it, so in many ways that was safe too. When I discovered your feelings towards me, all I could think was "What if I say I'm interested and he actually takes me up on it?" Brian has always had a line that he wouldn't cross in our relationship, but I wasn't sure that you did. It was scary because I could mess it up and lose a good friend. If you haven't noticed, I haven't been too successful at long term romantic relationships." I laughed at myself for the first time since David had dumped me. "You'd probably get tired of me and ditch me for the nearest trick, anyway." I swallowed past the bitter taste in my throat.

He reached out and wiped away the tears that I hadn't noticed falling from my cheeks. "Oh, Michael," was all he said before he took me in his arms. I held on tight and felt comforted by his heart beating against my chest and the warmth of his body. I hadn't meant to say so much, but something in his presence made me want to crack open my heart and let it bleed a little. I felt his hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair and I could have spent all night like that. But I didn't want to be teary-eyed and needy for our first date. I needed to see where we could take this.

At the least perfect moment, my stomach grumbled loud enough to wake sleeping children in New Zealand. I could feel Ted's chest shake against mine and I leaned away from him. Just as I suspected, he was laughing. "Thanks. I pour out my heart and this is the reaction I get." I smiled so he would know that I wasn't angry. I could see that his face was wet with tears also.

Ted wiped the rest of the tears off his cheeks and mine and said, "Come on. Let's eat before we float away on a river of tears." I agreed; we both pulled ourselves together and went to enjoy a meal together.

The meal had come out much better than I had anticipated and was enhanced by our easy conversation. Our talk on the couch had broken the ice and had let us be comfortable with each other again and enjoy the delicious food and wine without any awkwardness. After dinner, we took a stroll around my neighborhood to burn off some of the calories. In addition to dinner, both of us had eaten generous helpings of chocolate mousse, which I had picked up on my way home from work. The night was cool and gave me the perfect excuse to put my arm around Michael's shoulders. He had left his jacket in my apartment and was dressed only in a thin, long-sleeved, v-necked sweater that fit his torso snugly in a way that made my mouth water. I was ready to explain that I only wanted to share body warmth, but he didn't complain or give me a touch-me-not look. My arm stayed where it was for the entire walk.

We returned to my apartment, laughing at a funny story that Michael was telling. We settled on the couch again while he finished his tale. I could listen to his stories all day just to watch the light in his eyes, see his animated face, and watch his hands gesturing wildly in that unconscious way.

I don't know how long I sat there, staring into his dark eyes, before I realized that he was quiet. He was staring back, with a funny, small smile on his lips that made me want to read his mind.

"I had a dream about you last night, Teddy."

"Oh?" I couldn't hide my surprise. "Was it a nightmare?" I asked jokingly.

Michael didn't laugh, but he didn't stop smiling either. "Not a nightmare. It was a very good dream, to tell the truth--even though it stopped before the good part."

"Were you in this dream too?" He nodded. "What were we doing?"

He smiled a little more widely and shook his head, "I don't think I should tell you."

His coyness was driving me crazy because I was overwhelmed with curiosity. "Why can't you tell me?"

His smile widened. "I think it would be better if I show you instead." He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine.

I couldn't believe that I had just thrown myself at him, but the way he had been staring had rekindled the fire from my dream. Kissing him now wasn't like the dream had been. It was a thousand times better. I kissed him once, close-mouthed, and then pressed my cheek to his to give him a chance to stop me if he wanted. He had shaved, and the tiny bristles from his jaw scraped lightly against mine, leaving my face tingly and oversensitive. I could feel his hands at the nape of my neck, stroking the hair there while turning my head back to continue the kiss. He licked and nibbled at my lips, prompting me to part them. I wasn't disappointed to feel his tongue enter my mouth and taste and explore with boldness. I moaned when he drew my tongue into his own mouth by sucking on it with increasing pressure. The electric sensation zapped straight from my mouth to the pit of my stomach.

I figured out where my hands were and lifted them to his neck. The shirt I had admired earlier had too many buttons for my fingers to fumble over. I still got them all open in record time, but it wasn't fast enough for me. And then it was mine--his warm chest, covered by a light covering of hair. I ran my hands over him, enjoying the heated skin overlying toned muscles and the soft chest hair. When we came up for air from the kiss, I immediately pushed him back against the arm of the sofa and started to plant kisses on his chest. I rubbed my cheek against it, reveling in the hair brushing my cheek. It was even softer than I had imagined. It narrowed as it moved downwards until it formed a thin line on his abdomen. I rubbed my cheek down that line and then I kissed a trail back up it again.

When I got to the top, I rediscovered his nipples, which I had ignored. I made up for my neglect by pulling the left one into my mouth with gentle suction. I felt it harden beneath my tongue and released the suction so I could blow across it. It stiffened and puckered even more, in reaction to the cooling effect of my breath. I drew it into my mouth again and sucked harder. I felt Ted's hands in my hair tugging me to the other side. The right nipple had started to harden on its own and was standing at attention. I brushed it roughly with my tongue and watched it swell and stiffen a little more. I continued for a bit longer, licking and sucking like I'd found the best flavor on earth--alternating between the left and right sides. Ted was writhing beneath me, running his hands through my hair and gripping my shoulders. When both his nipples were as stiff and swollen as I could get them, I closed my mouth around one and bit down a little roughly.

"Oh God!" he moaned and I stopped to look up at him. His long lashes were lying against his cheek; his head was thrown back, and his mouth was open. I slid up feeling his bare skin slide against mine just like I had wanted in the dream. I had no idea when he had pulled my sweater up, but I thanked him silently for his agile hands. I pressed my mouth to his again so I could feast on his tongue. I could still taste the mix of wine and chocolate from dinner. He moaned and placed his hands around my back, stroking deep hard strokes that melted every muscle in my body until I wanted to collapse on top of him. He pulled the sweater up further and I shifted to allow him to pull it off completely. Then he resumed his stroking and kneading, starting at the nape of my neck and moving down my shoulders, back, and sides. Who would have thought those years, working as an accountant, would have produced such magic hands? I craved the feeling of them lower on my body and even tried begging him to continue downward, but he would come ever so close, teasing me, before his hands would slide up again. He must have forgotten that two can play at that game.

I sat up, straddling him on the couch and trailed my hands down his chest and to his stomach, shadowing his skin without actually touching--just close enough to feel the hairs tickle my palm and the heat radiate from his body. I arrived at the waistband of his well-tailored pants and ran my fingers across his stomach, jus over the top the pants. I slowly unbuttoned the top button on his fly and gradually slid the zipper down. My knuckles brushed against his hard, throbbing member. The open zipper revealed the lower part of his flat stomach and a pair of jockeys whose fabric was being tested by the growing bulge beneath. I slid down a little further so I could reach it. My hand shadowed his hidden erection and I felt a wicked smile come upon me when his hips lifted a little. I leaned over, took a deep breath, placed my open mouth against his covered and swollen member and exhaled slowly. That's when I heard Ted start to pray for the first time.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" I shouted. Later that night, Michael would tell me that I had thrown in a couple of saints' names too. Funny. I didn't think that I remembered the names of any saints. Now I wish that I had gone to church with Emmett, because I was sure I was going to die of a heart attack. What would I tell St. Peter at the pearly gates? That I didn't have time to say my last confession because I had been sinning in the best way possible right before they called my number? The moment passed quickly because Michael stopped torturing me one way and found a new and better way to make me lose my mind.

If I could have spoken, I would have begged him not to stop--ever. I lifted my hips (difficult considering how weak I felt) and allowed him to slide my pants and my underwear down and off. They landed somewhere on the floor. I leaned my right leg against the sofa back, bent at the knee. My left foot was on the floor to give him free and clear access. Then the torture resumed. Instead of focusing on my dick, which was feeling very needy at the moment, he kissed and licked above it and to the left and right of it, and all around it. The attention below it wasn't bad given how close it was to the main target. I could feel myself drawing in ragged breaths while he nibbled on my inner thigh and rolled and squeezed my balls gently in his hands. I could feel myself coming closer and closer to the edge. I was whispering and praying and pulling on his soft hair in the hopes that he would help me out.

I felt everything go white, like a flash of lightening when his hot hand wrapped around the base of my shaft and his lips engulfed the head in a wave of wet heat. All the blood in my body flooded straight to my cock until I felt like I was going to explode. He took me in, inch by excruciating inch until his throat encased my entire length. Then he eased his head back slowly, applying firm suction. THEN he did it again...and again...and again...until it seemed that there couldn't possibly be any more sensation in my body. Whenever he stopped sucking to rest, his hand would keep things interesting by pumping with exactly the right amount of pressure. Just as I was on the brink, he paused, leaving my dick embedded in his throat. He started to swallow with me inside his throat and I fell over the cliff headfirst in a shower of fireworks while my cock quivered and exploded into his greedy mouth.

When he was finished swallowing the last of my seed, he stretched out on top of me and kissed me for a while, letting me taste myself. When we ran out of breath, he looked at me and grinned like that cat that ate the canary. I couldn't help but grin back and caress his cheek with my hand. My thoughts were shattered and my body was too limp with satisfaction to reciprocate just yet, but I felt strong enough to say one thing.

"That must have been one hell of a dream."

Chapter 5

I watched Ted's face while he slept. After our first encounter, we had talked for a while about absolutely nothing. He pulled me against him so that we were wrapped around each other, face to face, legs intertwined. I let him sleep for a little while, content to watch him and feel his chest rise and fall against mine. But then I started wanting a little more so I woke him up by tickling him. I didn't go for the typical side tickle. I reached down and tickled the back of the closest knee until his nose started to twitch and he frowned in his sleep. Only half awake, he swatted at my mischievous fingers.

"What the--" he said opening his eyes. I smiled at him and he smiled back, relaxing into the couch. "I was afraid that it was all a dream."

"All?" I asked in my sexiest growl. "That wasn't even close to being 'all.'"

He sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. "You mean we're not done here? I don't know about you but I'm beat." He glanced at his watch. "Wow. Look at the time. You work on Saturday, right? And I have a lot of work that I brought home with me. Maybe we should call it a--"

"Theodore Schmidt! That is NOT funny!" He started laughing quietly, but I wouldn't let him off the hook. "I have needs, you know. Fair is fair."

Still laughing, he sat up and gave me a big smack on the lips. "Don't worry, Michael. Fair play is my middle name." He sat up and pulled me into his lap so that I was sitting across it.

"No. I'm too heavy for you," I protested.

"No way. You're like a feather--a very sexy, sweet, charming feather." He held my head between his hands and pulled me in for another long, sweet kiss that surpassed all the others. For a long time, he held me trapped in his loving arms, drowning in the feeling of his lips on mine, head full of his spicy scent. His hand was busy stroking my chest from top to bottom, only stopping to tweak and tease my nipples to hardness. I tried to breathe through my nose so I wouldn't have to give up his mouth on mine for even a second. In all the commotion I slid backwards off his lap so that my legs were hooked over his lap.

He broke contact and I moaned in protest. But he was only gone long enough to turn around, grab a cushion from somewhere, and put it behind my back.

"Lie down," he ordered quietly. Although I was reluctant to leave his warm embrace, I was eager for whatever he had planned. And what a plan it was. He used his agile hands and fingers to make short work of opening my slacks. There was no prelude before he placed his hand over my crotch and started slowly rubbing my growing manhood through my boxers. I inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply so that the act of breathing wouldn't distract me from the fire that was building in my loins.

When I felt like I was wound up tight enough to snap, he slipped his hand under my shorts. I could feel the sweat break out on my chest and my heart start to race. I held onto his hand, which was pumping my turgid member, and begged for release.

He responded by slowing down, making it last longer, squeezing the base of my leaking cock to stop me from ejaculating. By this time I had my eyes squeezed shut and I was biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. I shoved my fist against my mouth to keep from screaming in frustration. While I was suffering, I felt him moving around, rearranging our bodies. At one point, when I thought he was leaving the couch I opened my eyes. I saw him lean down to the floor and take something from his pants pocket. He rejoined me on the couch and ended up kneeling in front of me with my right leg ended up on his shoulder. I closed my eyes and let him continue to stroke my cock into submission.

"Michael, open your eyes." I shook my head not wanting anything to shatter the mood. "Michael, please?"

"Keep saying my name. I like the way it sounds." I was still locked in the darkness behind my eyelids, only focusing on his hand on me, his voice washing over me, and the warmth of his thighs under me.

"Look at me Michael." His hand stopped stroking me, cruelly forcing me to do as he asked. He gazed into my eyes, looking for something. For what?--I didn't know, but I would have given him anything to make him finish what he had started. He opened his hand to reveal a foil packet and a tube and looked at me again with a question in his eyes.

I gazed into his uncertain eyes, which were filled with love, and gave him the only answer I could.

I almost lost my nerve when he nodded his head in silent acceptance. Maybe I should have made him say it out loud so there was no question about what he was accepting, but I didn't want to give him a chance for second thoughts. I was about to rip open the foil packet when he took it from my hands. He reached for my jutting erection and stroked it until I thought I would come too soon. He ripped open the packet with his teeth and took out the condom. He rolled it on my dick so slowly and firmly that once again I was in danger of losing control. I rolled the tube of lube between my hands to warm it before squirting a glob into my hand. I applied it to the condom. I squirted more lube onto my fingers and spread it so that they were well coated.

I grasped Michael's hardness again, with one hand. With one coated finger, I gently probed his opening, circling the puckering hole, before sliding past its ring of taut muscle. I slid gently in and out until he relaxed before I slipped a second finger in, then a third. I pushed in far enough to stroke his prostate. He was gasping and whimpering my name over and over. "Please Teddy...Don't stop!" It was music to my ears. I didn't relent until his whole body bowed back, and as he gasped I pulled his other leg onto my shoulder.

"Michael, look at me again." His eyelashes fluttered open. His pupils were so wide that his eyes looked black instead of their usual deep brown. "Don't close your eyes, just keep looking at me." He nodded, still too out of breath to speak. I positioned my stiff and ready erection at his opening and slid inside. I paused to give him time to adjust. His breathing had increased in speed and he was frantically gripping my sides with his hands. His eyes were open at half-mast, locked on mine in a silent plea. I began to move slowly in and out, relishing the grip of his tight hole. He urged me to go faster and started raising his hips to meet mine. I leaned over to kiss his mouth again while I pumped into his welcoming body. Then I leaned back, grabbed his legs at my shoulders and let my speed and depth build. I adjusted my angle every once in a while, so he wouldn't be too sore in one spot. Every time I tried to slow down or be gentler, he dug his fingers in my back and demanded that I fuck him like I meant it.

I loved that little burst of aggression from him, so I let him have it anyway he wanted it. I could feel the tension in my body spiral from the root of me that was pounding into him. I flew high and fast until the light burst behind my eyes again and I exploded in the snug condom. Shortly after, Michael's seed burst from him and sprayed my chest and stomach and he lay stunned on the couch. I gave myself a couple of minutes to recover before I climbed off the couch, bent over, and swept him into my arms.

My drowsy lover was suddenly wide-awake. "What are you doing? I told you I'm too heavy!"

I kissed him into silence. "And I told you--light as a feather." And I carried him into my bedroom.

Sunlight had just started chasing away the bedroom's shadows when I woke up with a sense of relaxation. I stretched lazily to ease the slight soreness in my body. Ted was still asleep with his head on my chest and his hand overlying my heart. I ran my fingers through his short dark hair and cupped his cheek. The shadow of his beard was already darker. I wondered if he would let it grow in if I asked him. My imagination was running wild with thoughts of his beard brushing the more sensitive parts of my body.

"Mmm. I should wake up like this every day," he said. He pulled my hand to his lips and placed a kiss on my palm. He rolled over onto his stomach and propped his head on his hands so he could look at me. "Hey you."

"Hey you right back. I thought you were sleeping," I said. "You faker!" I nudged him playfully with my knee over and over until he pounced on me and trapped my hands in his while sitting on my legs.

"Say uncle," he commanded. I was giggling too much to say anything.

"Say uncle," he repeated.

"Make me," I gasped.

"We have ways of making you talk," he said in a vaguely European accent. Then he held both my hands in one of his and tickled me until I gave up, unable to breathe through all my laughing. He released my hands and threw himself back on the bed. He pulled me into his arms so that we were spooned together with me in front. He pressed his hand to my chest and kissed the nape of my neck. I felt a delightful shiver run through me.

"You know, Ted...I'm happy that you're not really my uncle because that would make this moment a little too 'Jerry Springer' for me."

I heard and felt him chuckle behind me. "Believe me, no one's happier about that than me."

"And Ted?"

"Yes, Michael?"

"Remember what you said about me working on Saturday?"

"Yeah. Why? Do you have to leave soon?"

"Well since I was promoted, I'm in charge of the scheduling and..." I let the sentence dangle unfinished.

"And what?"

"I gave myself the day off. That means we have the whole day to ourselves."

"That's great!" His pleasure touched me. It almost stopped me from teasing him...but not quite.

I broke free from his arms and sat up to face him. "But don't forget that you have all that work that you brought home. I should probably leave you to finish whatev--" I yelped when he yanked me back down to my previous position, spooned in his arms. He kissed my nape again and hugged me tight.

"Don't even think about leaving, Michael Charles Novotny. I'm not letting you out of here until you're too tired to walk straight."

I was excited at the prospect. "What do you have in mind?" I already had my own ideas of what we could do next.

"You'll have to wait until the right time. Remember that patience is a virtue."

"Screw patience. I've had enough to last me a lifetime. If it's a virtue, I'd rather be a shameless sinner."

"Michael, don't make me laugh. I'm too sore from last night."

"I'm sure I could think of something to...uh...loosen you up again."

"Michael," he whispered against my neck, "have we completely lost our minds? Can we really make this work?"

"I don't know, Ted, but it'll sure be fun to try."

"My mother's working this morning. If we show up, she'll suspect something. Don't you have anything else to eat here?" Michael leaned against the kitchen counter and took a bite out of a tiny apple--the last edible food in my kitchen.

"No. I usually go shopping on Saturday mornings, but someone made me lose track of time," I said pointedly. "Anyway, why would she suspect anything? And so what if she does?"

"Ted, you do remember my mother, don't you? The woman with a high-powered radar for information that's none of her business...doling out a side dish of unwanted advice with every stack of flapjacks...a stranger to the concept of discretion."

"She's not THAT bad."

"She gave me a copy of Our Bodies, Our Selves for my twelfth birthday."

"That's an excellent book. I read it myself at that age. More parents should be so conscientious about giving their kids information."

"She gave it to me AT my birthday party...in front of all my friends."

"Oh." I weighed the story against my grumbling stomach. "You win. We go to the deli."

We donned our jackets and started walking to my neighborhood deli. The food was unexciting there, but it was nearby and it had fast service. While we were walking, I revisited the subject we had danced around this morning. "Eventually they're going to find out, Michael."

"I know." He lapsed into silence.

Michael's pensiveness worried me, especially since he seemed to be avoiding eye contact.

"Maybe we should just tell them now and get it over with."

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Because of Brian, right? You're probably embarrassed to let him know you were actually with an old loser like me," I said with a bitterness that surprised even me. Michael stopped walking abruptly and grabbed my hand before I could get too far. He tugged me towards him and grabbed my other hand with an almost painful grip.

"I don't ever want to hear you say something like that again. You're wonderful. You're intelligent, generous, warm-hearted, sexy and...I can't think straight because you make me so mad when you do that!"

I shrugged and stared at the sidewalk between us, but he cupped my chin and made me look up. "I could never be embarrassed or ashamed about being with you, Ted...Please don't look away from me. Listen to what I'm saying." I looked into his eyes. "You're an amazing man and I'm lucky to know you. I won't let you believe otherwise." He wrapped his arms around me and held me for a long time. We may have drawn a few stares from passing pedestrians, but neither of us noticed.

He kissed me briefly before releasing me. "Come on," he said, tugging me in the opposite direction from the deli.

"Wait. Where are you going? The deli's the other way."

"Back to your building so we can get your car. I suddenly have a craving for some Liberty Diner pancakes."

Chapter 6

We had been sitting in the diner for about a minute before Debbie approached our booth.

"Hello, boys. We're out a little early on a Saturday, aren't we?"

Michael raised his eyebrows in that long-suffering look he always gets when he talks to her. "Ma, it's 10:30 in the morning. Besides, we didn't go out last night."

Debbie popped her gum and frowned in puzzlement. "That's funny, because when I called last night, Emmett said that you weren't home."

Michael quickly buried his face in the menu that we had all memorized years ago. He mumbled, "Yeah. That must have been when I went to do my laundry."

Debbie placed her hands on her hips and stared at Michael in disbelief. "At 11 o'clock at night?"

Michael shrugged. "I was out of clean clothes and I didn't get a chance to do it earlier."

"And this morning? I called again to invite you to dinner tonight, but Emmett said you still hadn't come home yet. Those clothes must have been REALLY dirty."

I sighed in resignation. We weren't going to have a moment's peace with Michael's story collapsing in the face of his mother's curiosity. I tried to distract her, hoping she would drop the subject until Michael regained his composure.

"You know Deb, I'm starving. I could really go for those Belgian waffles and a side of bacon."

"Move over, Ted," she said, ignoring my words completely. I moved and she immediately sat down, facing Michael.

Her bangles jingled as she pointed her finger at him. "You're holding out on me aren't you?" she pressed. "Who was he?"

"Who was who?" Michael had no chance. He looked cornered and bewildered and very, very guilty. I looked at Debbie in admiration. She really would have made an excellent police interrogator. Her piercing eyes have made strong men break down and spill all their secrets.

She pinned her hawk-eyed stare on me. "What do you know about this?"

"Uh--nothing. We just uh, bumped into each other at the grocery store and uh, decided to stop for a bite."

Before this moment, I had all the best intentions of being out and proud about our new relationship, but face-to-face with Debbie, I was stammering like a little boy who got caught stealing.

"What's gotten into you two? Why the guilty faces?" Debbie said. "I just figured that you'd been out fucking all night." She guffawed. "It's not like I haven't heard every story in the world before."

Before I could warn Michael with a look, his eyes became as wide as saucers and his face paled--even paler than usual. He swung his eyes to me in alarm. Shortly after, the pasty white color changed to a dull brick red. I waited for the fallout.

"Michael, oh my god, are you okay?" Debbie dropped her pen and pad on the table and quickly felt Michael's forehead.

"I'm fine, Ma!" he whined while pushing her hand away. "Don't fuss."

Debbie squinted at him in suspicion, then at me. I could feel myself shrinking beneath her gaze and felt a blush rising in my own cheeks. She ignored the customers who were clamoring for their food.

"What are you two not telling me?"

One of us should have said something to throw her off the scent--told a joke, made up some story--anything. Instead, we let our silence give us away. Debbie's eyes narrowed in speculation as she looked quickly back and forth between the two of us. Michael didn't help matters by staring at the table like a man facing capital punishment.

"Well, well, well, " she said in surprise. "Michael, honey?" His dark eyes finally looked up from the table.

"What?" he said resentfully.

Debbie raised her eyebrows at that and stood up with determination. "Sit tight. I have to dish out a few orders before the natives start chewing the furniture. I'll be back with some coffee and then we are going to talk!" She left our booth after her decree. When she was gone, we both slumped in relief.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Michael.

I nodded in agreement with the sentiment. "I thought it would be easy, but she can be so..."

"Relentless? Bossy? Annoyingly psychic?"

"And how. She reminds me of my junior high principal. He was six foot two, two-hundred pounds, and had a bad temper. He used to scare the bejesus out of us."

Michael snorted. "Please. My mother would chew him up, spit him out, and then convince him it was for his own good."

We both laughed for a good minute about that one before becoming serious again.

"She really wasn't that bad, you know. I think she's just worried about you."

We looked across the diner at where Debbie was serving breakfast to a couple at the counter. She seemed to be chatting happily until she looked back at us and a flash of concern crossed her face. "I know she worries--too much...Wait here. I'll be right back."

He slid out of the booth and walked to the end of the counter where Debbie joined him. The two of them whispered for a moment and then she poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. He said one thing more and she grabbed a small pitcher of milk and poured a little into the cup. He walked back to me and handed me the coffee.

"You like it light with one sugar, right?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you remembered."

"There's a lot of things I remember that might surprise you."

"Oh." What did that mean? I opened my mouth to ask, but he had already started talking.

"I'm going outside to talk to my mother for a minute, okay?"

I forgot about my question and began to worry about him. "Is she giving you a hard time? Do you want me to talk to her? I can if you want. This is about both of us, but I started it and I don't want to...What? Is there something on my face?"

He shook his head with a bemused expression on his face. "Sometimes I forget."

"Forget what?"

"What a gentleman you are." He leaned close, and right there in front of Debbie, the drag queens in the next booth, and the whole world, he kissed me on the mouth. Then he walked away, heading to the back exit of the diner. I looked around at the faces staring my way and any shyness I might have felt evaporated. I tried to remember the tune that Michael had been whistling in my office and started whistling to myself.

I stepped out into the back alley and waited for my mother. She came out shortly after I did, holding a steaming styrofoam cup.

"Here. Try this. It's the new herbal tea we ordered--apple spice."

I accepted the tea and took a few sips while I waited for her to speak.

"Michael, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Nope." That took her aback and gave me a chance to take charge of the conversation. "I know what you're going to say, Ma--"

"Wait. You know what *I'm* going to say before I even say it? Then go ahead and tell me." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall.

Damn. I managed to piss her off right away. I ignored her forbidding expression and forged ahead. "You think that it's too soon after David." I looked at her but she said nothing and my nervousness built. "I didn't mean to jump into a new relationship so soon, but suddenly the opportunity was in my face and I couldn't turn away. We were planning on having a date and just talking...about us...about the possibility of 'us.' Somehow it became much more."

I took a deep breath and continued. "You'll say that Ted and I aren't right for each other. That we're not compatible. But we've been friends for a long time and we are compatible in that way. I trust him more than most people I know. And in a romantic sense..." I smiled in memory of last night. "I think we have those bases covered." I looked at my mother's frowning face, surprised that she hadn't jumped in yet.

"You probably think that I'm using him to get over David."

"Michael, I don't--"

I interrupted. "Am I wrong?"

She looked at me with frustration. "I don't want you to get hurt--either of you. With David and with how you feel about..." She hesitated to continue.

"Brian?" I added helpfully. "You think that I'm just waiting for Brian and that I'll hurt Ted." I stopped because this was the biggest obstacle in my own mind.

"Are you sure that you know what you're doing, Michael?" she asked again.

I thought about that and I could feel the tears rising in my throat and filling my head. I tried to take a sip of tea to cover my reaction, but only burned my tongue in the process. "Shit!" I hurled the cup of tea against the dumpster a couple of feet away and felt some of the scalding tea droplets hit my face. Suddenly, my mother's arms were around me and I was crying on her shoulder as I had done so many times before.

"Michael it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm here for you."

"No."

"Of course I am. You should know that."

I buried my face against that goofy red wig, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "I mean no--I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not sure if it's right. It's probably stupid for me to think that I could ever make anyone happy. I already failed miserably once."

She pulled away and looked at me fiercely. "You make ME happy. And your Uncle Vic, and your friends. You made David happy despite what you might think. I wish that it could have worked for you and him because I could tell that he loved you, but if it didn't work, it doesn't mean that you're a failure or that it was your fault." She reached up and wiped the tears from my face. "We can't always choose who we love wisely, but we can choose to love them well. And that's what you do, baby. You love well. Don't ever let anything or anyone convince you differently."

"I don't think you got that quote right, Ma," I said, feeling a bubble of relief within.

She pulled me into her arms again. "As long as we understand each other, that's all that matters. Who give a fuck about anything else? Right?"

"Right. Thanks Ma."

"For what? All I did was scald you with hot tea and make you cry. Usually I do that for minimum wage and small tips from all the bozos in there. This one's a freebie."

The back door to the diner slammed open and Greg, one of the busboys poked his head out.

"Deb, they're starting to climb the walls in there. We need you back, like, ten minutes ago."

"Hold your horses! I'm talkin' to my kid."

"But Deb--"

"I will be right there!" The door slammed shut again. She turned back to me. "Do you think that you can love him?"

"Yes, I do."

"And does he love you?"

"Yes. Maybe not wisely, but definitely well."

"Good." She nodded firmly as if a decision had been made. "If you need to talk about anything, you call me, okay?"

"Yes, Ma."

"And you're coming to dinner tonight!"

"Okay, Ma."

"Bring Ted with you. We're not done talking."

"Of course, Ma."

"You're not patronizing me are you?"

"Never, Ma." She patted me on the cheek and walked to the door. She had only taken two steps inside when I ran up and hugged her from behind. "I love you, Ma."

She squeezed my arm and leaned back into the hug. "I love you too, honey." I released her and let her walk back inside. I returned to the booth and found Ted reading a newspaper left on the table by the previous customers. Between sips of coffee, he was smiling and whistling something off-key.

"Something funny in the paper?"

"Huh?" he asked, looking up and blinking in surprise.

I sat next to him and pointed at the paper. "You were smiling while you were reading. Is there something funny in there?"

"No. I'm just in a good mood." A look of puzzled worry appeared on his face. "Are you all right? You look like you've been crying."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just burned my mouth on a cup of hot tea."

"Ouch." His hand touched my face and his thumb gently stroked my lips as if checking for damage. Finding none, he asked, "Everything all right with your mother?"

"Yeah. Like you said, she wasn't that bad." I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. With everything shut out except the solid feel of his shoulder against my face and the warmth seeping through his sweater, I felt better. "She was actually pretty supportive. I'm glad I talked to her."

"Good." He put his arm around my shoulder and hugged me to his side.

"I hope that you're free tonight. We have to go to dinner at her house tonight."

"Does this mean I'm going to get the third degree?"

"I think that she'll go easy on you. But if she doesn't, I'll protect you."

He kissed me on the top of the head. "My hero."

"Breakfast is served." Two plates were placed in front of us. "That's if you two lovebirds can tear yourselves away from each other long enough to eat. After last night you probably need lots of calories to regain your strength."

"Ma! Do you have to be so loud?" I swear she embarrasses me just to drive me crazy.

"Shut up Michael and eat your pancakes." She moved on to the next booth.

"Geez. The way she talks to me, no one would never know I was thirty years old." It felt good to slip back into our usual roles. My stomach growled to announce that my appetite had come back with a vengeance. Happily, I dug into my breakfast.

"Michael?"

I stopped in mid-chew and looked at Ted. "Mm hm?"

He didn't say anything. He picked up my hand, the one without the fork in it, and laced our fingers together. He smiled, picked up his fork with his other hand, and started to eat.

Chapter 7

"How about an announcement in the newspaper? That way we could tell everyone at once."

"Like one of those wedding announcements? What on earth would it say?"

"'Michael Charles Novotny and Theodore Schmidt are happy to announce that--Wait! This is the good part!" He stopped talking and focused on the action on the TV screen.

Michael was sitting on the floor, leaning against my legs with his head on my knee. We had decided to stay in and watch a movie, before meeting the guys at Woody's later. Michael had picked some cheesy sci-fi flick with a lot of techno-babble and cheap special effects. He swore up and down that I would like it because he'd seen it nine or ten times and loved it. The best part of the movie was the intro that actually made it seem like it might be interesting. My hopes were quickly dashed once it started, so instead of watching I was trying to get him to talk to me.

I waited for the slimy space monster to jump out of the shadows--again. I ran my fingers through Michael's hair, letting the thick wavy locks curl around my fingers. After another woefully unprepared soldier had bitten the dust and the other characters had spent another ten minutes blaming each other for the piling corpses, I tried to get Michael's attention again.

"Did you ever think of letting your hair grow out?"

Michael didn't look away from the screen while he answered. "I did."

I was surprised. "When?"

"After I graduated from high school, I let it grow all the way to my waist. When I dropped out of community college and started looking for a job, I cut it again."

"Down to your waist? I would love to see that. Do you have any pictures?"

He chuckled. "I have one or two in storage at my mother's house, but believe me when I say that you're better off not seeing them. I looked like a reject from an 80's hair band."

"I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad."

"When it fell over my face, I looked like Cousin It. My mother kept threatening to cut it while I was asleep."

I combed my fingers through his lush hair again. "I bet you were adorable anyway...just like you are now."

He hoisted himself up until he was sitting next to me on the couch. "You must know that flattery will get you everywhere." He slung his arm around my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. Our lips clashed and our tongues did battle--the kind of battle where there are no losers. I pulled him on top of me so that he was straddling my lap and we necked until we were both panting for breath.

"Ted, we're going to be late..." Michael kissed me in mid-sentence. "...for drinks..." Another kiss. "...at Woody's."

I didn't want to think about other people. I only wanted to lose myself in Michael's kisses. "So what? They won't care. Besides, we have plenty of time."

He started kissing me on the neck, hitting a very ticklish spot. I practically died, feeling his hot lips against me. "They WILL care." He kissed me along the open neck of my shirt. "They're already wondering why we haven't been hanging out with them as much in the last few weeks." He opened the top buttons on my shirt and slid his hands inside around my back. "We should have left ten minutes ago. They'll be mad."

"It doesn't take that long to drive there. Even if we are late, they'll get over it...Oh. Don't stop doing that." He had bent his head and begun to tease one of my nipples with his tongue. My heart started to beat a little faster. After he had teased for too short a time, he kissed his way back up and buried his face in my neck.

"Have I ever told you that I love the way you smell Ted?"

I gulped and began to stroke his back. I ached so much to be closer to him that it hurt.

I felt his tongue leave a moist trail on my neck. His warm breath wafted over it as he said, "And I love the way you taste...all over."

I raked my hands through his hair and tugged his head back until he was looking at me. "We're definitely going to be late, aren't we?"

"No doubt about it."

Ted pulled his car into a parking space and we climbed out and started walking down Liberty Avenue. He looked a little worried and started talking nervously

"Game plan. You go in first and I'll walk in ten minutes later."

"Or we could just walk in together. It's really not that big of a deal."

"If it's not that big of a deal, then why haven't you told Brian yet?"

"Why haven't YOU told Emmett or Melanie?"

"Number one--I thought Emmett already knew--sort of. Number two--I haven't seen much of Melanie lately. *Someone's* been keeping me busy. What's your excuse?"

I wanted to kick something out of frustration because my excuse seemed stupid. "I'm afraid to tell him."

Ted looked surprised and a little hurt. "Why?"

I took his hand in mine and kept walking. "It's not you--"

"Please don't give me a, 'It's not you it's me speech.'"

"Why would I do that? It's not you and it's not me either. It's him."

"How do you mean?"

"When I started dating David, Brian interfered in our relationship. He kept saying that he was testing David and that he was trying to protect me, but all he did was add strain to our relationship. That strain made me doubt my ability to love David and was a part of why we had so much trouble. Don't get me wrong. It wasn't all Brian's fault that we had problems--I wasn't strong enough to ignore the doubts in my mind. This time, I want to do things my own way and in my own time."

"What if he finds out?"

"Then I'll deal with it."

"No." He dropped his hand and put his arm around my waist. "We'll deal with it."

"I was hoping you'd say that. We're here."

We walked in and saw our Brian and Justin sitting at a corner table. We weaved through the crowd and approached the table.

"Hey guys," said Michael brightly. He pulled two chairs from the next table and sat in one.

Brian looked at us with curiosity. "Where the fuck have you two been? We were about to leave without you."

Michael answered for us. "We were watching a movie and we lost track of time." He neglected to mention the real reason for our tardiness.

We ordered our drinks and I started to snack on some of the peanuts in the bowl on the table.

"So Theodore, what was the fascinating movie about?" Brian looked at me with a deadpan expression on his face that belied the interest in his question. Suddenly, I feared that he must suspect. The thoughts flew out of my head.

"Uh. It was some science fiction thing that Michael picked."

"Does this cinematic masterpiece have a name?"

"I don't remember the name."

Justin jumped into the conversation and double-teamed me. "So if you weren't watching the movie, what WERE you doing?"

I looked at Michael for help, but he shrugged and looked as put upon as I felt. "We must have fallen asleep," I said lamely.

Justin chortled, "This gets better and better. By the way, Ted. Did you notice that you're shirt's not buttoned up right?"

Brian was smirking at me. "I guess the porno has lost it's magic, huh? So now you're jacking off to lame B-movies. You're sex life might be more interesting if it involved live people, Schmidt.

I looked down and to my acute embarrassment he was right. I mumbled some incoherent excuse and left the table to go the men's room. "I'll be back in a minute."

"What the fuck is wrong with you two? Stop bothering him."

Brian took a sip of his drink and eventually replied, "What do you care if we tease him? Ted's a grown man. He can handle himself. We KNOW how he likes to handle himself."

"He knows we didn't mean anything by it," Justin added looking a little guilty.

"Can't you just grow up for once?" I left the table and headed outside for a breath of fresh air. I climbed down the steps and leaned against the railing.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, Michael or am I going to have to drag it out of you?"

I hadn't noticed Brian following me and I didn't feel much like talking to him about anything. "There's nothing going on that you need to know."

"But there is something going on?"

I watched the people walking by and refused to look at him.

"Why the hell are you acting so pissy these days?"

"I am not acting pissy! Fuck you anyway. Why can't you leave Ted alone? Even when he tries to be nice, you have to rip on him."

"Who give a shit about Ted? And what's up with you these days? You don't return my calls. You don't want to hang out--"

"I'm here aren't I?"

"Yeah. That's once in the last two weeks. What's the big secret? You've even got Emmett screening your calls and making excuses for you. What are you hiding?"

"I told you. Nothing."

"That's right. You told me nothing." He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one out. He lighted it and took a few drags. "I'm not going to start chasing you down like some desperate housewife. When you decide to stop lying to me, let me know." He tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under his heel, and walked back into the bar.

I stood outside alone for another minute and then followed Brian back in. From a distance I could see that Ted was still not at the table so I headed to the men's room. I found him standing at the sink, looking into a mirror. His shirt was still buttoned up wrong. I walked up to him and turned him towards me.

"Michael, do I have a bull's eye stamped on my forehead?"

"Of course not." I unbuttoned his shirt and started rebuttoning it correctly.

"Maybe there's a 'kick me' sign on my back."

I tucked his shirt into the front of his pants and turned him around to do the back. "Nope. No signs back here."

He leaned his hands against the sink and looked at himself in the mirror with sadness. "You're right to be nervous about telling Brian. He'll crucify me. He's even got Justin jumping in on the act."

I put my arms around Ted from behind and leaned my chin against his shoulder. "Justin didn't mean anything bad. He was just following Brian's lead."

"Whose lead is Brian following?"

"His own," I whispered. "Let me explain something about Brian--"

"Michael, I don't want to hear you make excuses for him."

I hugged him tighter and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm not making excuses, just theoretical explanations."

"Is one of your theories going to explain why he doesn't like me?"

"It's not that Brian doesn't like you. I really think that it's that he doesn't like himself."

Ted harrumphed in disbelief. "Yeah right. Self-loathing. THAT'S Brian's biggest problem. I should have known."

"Actually it is. I don't know if he strikes out at people because he sees something in them that he wishes he had or if he sees qualities that he's been taught to despise and smother in himself. It's probably a little bit of both. He thinks he's being honest with the people around him--and sometimes he is, but that honesty is a cover for the lies he tells himself--that he doesn't care about people's opinions or that he doesn't need anyone."

Ted replied sadly, "You almost make me feel sorry for him, but don't tell him I said that. It still doesn't explain why he attacks ME all the time."

"Well that's your fault."

"What?"

He tried to pull out of my arms, but I wouldn't let go. "Shh. Don't get mad. I mean it as a compliment. You are a wonderful man who doesn't have a mean bone in his body. So when Brian attacks, it's not in you to retaliate in a mean way. It makes you a little bit of a target, but it's one of the things I love about you."

"Only one thing?"

"One of many."

"What do we do now? Go back out there and let him pick my bones clean?"

"No. We go back out there and we stand together. If he knows we're strong, he'll back down."

"Are we strong enough for that?"

"Well I'm as weak as a baby kitten, but you're the one who slung me over his shoulder like a he-man last week."

He finally laughed and turned around and hugged me. "Thanks. I've felt like a basket case for the last few weeks. I can't wait until everyone knows about us and we don't have to worry about their reactions."

"Well let's go out there then. We have two victims within our grasp."

"What will we say?"

"Don't worry. I'll think of something."

He dragged me by the hand, out of the bathroom and led us back to our table. Brian and Justin were talking but they stopped when we rejoined them. I picked up my drink and took a long swallow. A fire erupted in my stomach but quenched itself gradually, leaving me with a mellow feeling.

"Glad to see that your clothing is back in order Ted. Did you have to help him, Mikey? He really should have learned to do that as a child."

"Since I messed it up in the first place, I figured I should fix it." Michael's words were almost lost in the music pumping out of the bar's speaker system and the dull roar of dozens of conversations around us. But everyone at the table heard what he said. Justin's jaw had dropped and he swung his gaze rapidly back and forth between Michael and me.

Brian leaned back in his chair too casually and said, "Excuse me?"

Michael leaned forward and spoke a little louder. He enunciated clearly so we all understood. "I said that since I messed his shirt up in the first place--when I took it off him, that is--I figured I should fix it." He turned to look at my stunned face. "Sorry Teddy. I wasn't paying attention to the buttons on your shirt. I was a little distracted by what was underneath it." He leaned over kissed me on the cheek and then turned to catch Brian's eye. The expression on his face dared Brian to say anything. They stared each other down in silence as a muscle in Brian's jaw clenched and unclenched.

Justin finally shattered the tension by exclaiming, "When the fuck did this happen and why have you been keeping it a secret?" The three of us laughed, but Brian's attention had wandered to a point over our shoulders. He lifted his hand and a moment later a waiter appeared at our side

"Bobby, I'd like round of beers for our table," he requested. The waiter left and returned rapidly with the beer and four glasses. We were all silent waiting for what Brian would say. After pouring beers for us all, he raised his glass in a toast and said, "Thanks for being such a good friend Michael. I always knew we could tell each other everything." He downed half his beer in one swallow while we stared at him in shock. He slammed the glass on the table and stood. "I'll talk to you all later...Oh never mind. I forgot that you all don't want to talk to me." And he stalked away in a huff.

Michael looked at me, pleading with his eyes.

"Go ahead. I'll wait here."

He stood and ran to follow Brian's departing figure. I looked at Justin. He had an eager light in his eyes.

"So tell me everything," he demanded.

"Brian!" I fought my way through the crowds to catch up to him. "Brian!" I was just close enough to grab his sleeve. He threw me off when I did and kept walking down the street. He arrived at where he'd parked his car and started searching for his keys. He opened the jeep door and climbed in. Before he could drive away, I slipped into the passenger seat.

"Michael, get out."

"No. Not until we talk about this."

"Why do you want to talk to me? You haven't wanted to talk to me for weeks."

"Brian, we're best friends--"

"That's news to me. I didn't realize that best friends means that we keep huge secrets from each other."

"I was going to tell you."

"When? I'm surprised that you didn't put an announcement in the paper and let me find out that way."

My cheeks burned at that. "I was going to tell you. We just needed time."

"Fine. Take all the time you need. You two women can hold hands and coo at each other all you want. I'm leaving, so get out of my jeep."

I didn't budge. "Why are you so mad at me?"

"If you don't know then I'm not going to tell you."

"Now who's acting like a woman?"

"Michael," he said wearily, "this conversation is tedious. If you don't get out of the car I'll--"

"You'll what?" I challenged. "Drag me out and dump me on the sidewalk? Hit me? Curse at me? Go right ahead, but if you do, I'll get up, dust myself off, and hound you until you talk to me."

He sighed and dropped his head onto the steering wheel. "Stubborn little shit."

"That's more like it. Do you want me to tell you why I kept it a secret?"

"No. I don't care."

"If you don't care, then why the prima donna act back at Woody's. It was very melodramatic of you, but the exit line needed a little work."

"Fuck you."

"Do you want to know?"

"Obviously I'm not going to get a moment of peace until you confess your little heart out. Why can't you be like normal people and keep it all bottled in?"

"I can't be like that."

"You should try it sometime. It really works."

I laid my hand on his arm. The muscles were bunched with tension, but he didn't pull away again. "I'm sorry," I said softly. "I wanted to tell you right away, but I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Do you remember what you did when I started to date David?"

Out of the corner if my eye, I saw him shrug.

"You made fun of him--and me."

"Can't you take a little teasing once in a while?"

"Once in a while, yeah. But you did it all the time--"

"No I didn't."

I ignored his interruption. "You made fun of his age, of his interests, of him liking me."

"Why the hell do you listen to anything I say? Of course he liked you. You're fantastic. He was a fool to let you go."

"I hate it when you're sarcastic!" I turned to look out the opposite window. It was easier to talk without looking at him.

"Mikey, I'm not being sarcastic....I'm being stupid."

I shrugged, unable to respond. I felt his hand on my head and I turned to face him again.

"I'm being stupid when I make you feel bad. You're the best friend I have and one of the few people I trust. It scared me that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."

"Oh, Brian."

"After all, I love you, you little shit."

"Thanks, I think."

He pulled me closer and pressed his forehead to mine. "I never meant to hurt you by making trouble for you and David. I was worried. I never meant to make you push me away. For the past couple of weeks I've been trying to figure out why you were avoiding me. I thought it was because you suddenly started blaming me for the breakup."

"I'm not mad--at least not much. I just didn't want to be teased or told I was making a mistake. I don't want to mess up like I did before with David. If I fuck it up, I'd rather it was because of ME and because of you or anyone else."

He let go of me and sat back. "You and Ted? Who would have thought it? I never thought he would have the balls to go for it."

"So you don't think it's weird?"

"Of course I think it's weird, but if it's what you want--I won't say anything."

"And you'll stop teasing Ted?"

"Mikey!" he groaned. "I have to have some fun. Besides, he doesn't care."

"Yes he does and so do I. I always have and I should have said so a long time ago. I'm not saying you have to become bosom buddies. Just stop picking on him so much."

"Fine. I'll pick on Emmett instead."

I laughed. "I'd be careful if I were you. You've never seen Emmett when he's really angry. He could probably kick all of our asses."

Brian laughed too. "You're probably right."

"...And what did he say?"

"He told me that he'd had a dream about me and--"

"Will you please get out of my goddamn seat?"

I looked up and saw Brian standing over me, looking irritated. He had his arm around Michael's shoulders. My heart skipped a beat in nervousness until Michael slipped out from under his arm and sat in his seat. I moved back to the chair next to his and whispered in his ear, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. But next time we tell anyone it's your turn."

Brian settled into his chair between Justin and me and stared at me until I felt uncomfortable. When he spoke, it was to say, "You're still old, you know."

"Brian!!" both Justin and Michael exclaimed in shock.

"Did I lie?" said Brian with wide-eyed innocence, if one could believe that he'd ever been innocent. "I still think you're hopeless, but if Michael sees something in you then he must be right."

"Coming from you Brian, that means...I don't know what it means, but thanks."

"Anytime." He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear so that no one else could hear, "You do anything to hurt him like David did and I'll be on your ass, understand? I don't give a shit how long you've been friends."

I nodded. "Same goes for you. Understand?"

He nodded in acquiescence. "Perfectly." He picked up a glass of beer and raised it. "A toast!"

Justin squinted questioningly. "A toast to what?"

"To new understandings and new relationships." We raised our glasses, clinked them together, and drank to new beginnings.

Chapter 8

"Quit it! I can't get the key in the lock." I couldn't see the lock because Ted was nuzzling my neck and tickling me. For some reason, we were both in a very good mood tonight--the kind where everything seems funny, no matter how stupid. Unfortunately this mood had led to a case of the uncontrollable giggles at the opera. It wasn't a complete disaster because it was "The Magic Flute," which is supposed to be funny. Still, I think we annoyed the people sitting around us. Afterwards, we went out for dessert and coffee and acted all "fuzzy-wuzzy" like the two dykes Brian keeps saying we're masquerading as. Then we came back to my place.

"I can't help it. You smell like strawberries. I love strawberries."

I finally got the key in the lock and opened the door. "That must be Emmett's shampoo. I ran out of mine and he said he didn't want his anymore--said it was too 'girly'"

"He said what?"

"That--" I stopped because the subject of our conversation was sitting on the living room couch, reading a book. He's been reading off and on from the same one all week. "Hi Em. How's it going?"

He looked up and said seriously, "Hello Michael, Ted. Everything's going fine, thank you. How was the opera?"

"It was great--at least the parts we actually paid attention to were great. You should have come with us. You would have liked all the fabulous costumes."

"That's okay. I wasn't really up for it. Besides, I had my book to keep me company." He held up the book in his hand revealing the cover, which read, "The Holy Bible." "You should try it sometime. It's really fascinating. It might change your life if you did."

Ted replied with a laugh, "I think we've both had plenty of changes in our lives in the last few weeks." He excused himself to go the bathroom and left me alone with Emmett.

"So Emmett, is today laundry day or something?" He was dressed in a button down plaid shirt, corduroy pants, a pullover sweater, and hush puppies--all in various, ugly shades of brown. I guess it would be considered a "normal" outfit, but it wasn't the Emmett I knew.

He sighed and put down his book again. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, I just...you're dressed a lot 'tamer' than usual and...forget I asked." I swore at myself, wishing I hadn't said anything. Emmett had been so touchy lately, that I'd been tip-toeing around him.

"You know, I wouldn't make fun of your clothes. I'm not sure why you feel the need to attack me in this way."

"Attack? What attack? I just made a comment. And you make fun of my clothes all the time!"

"Maybe I did. But that was the old Emmett Honeycutt. He doesn't exist anymore."

"Why do we need a new one? We love the old one. I just wish you would stop avoiding us like you've been doing lately."

"Honey--I mean, Michael, this isn't about us. This is about me and how I needed to revamp my life--which brings me to another subject which I need to discuss with you and Ted."

Ted came out of the bathroom. "You guys should know that you're almost out of bathroom tissue." He paused and stared at us. "What's wrong? You both look like you lost your best friends."

I looked at Emmett and wondered if Ted was right. If so, I hoped that it was only temporary. "Sit down, Ted. Emmett has something he wants to discuss with us."

"Okay." He sat next to me on the couch and we faced Emmett across from us. "What is it?"

Emmett cleared his throat delicately and began talking. "I know that you two have recently started a...closer relationship. It's therefore natural...or not unexpected for you to want to spend a lot of time together. However, I was hoping that you could do it at Ted's place instead of here."

I looked at Ted to see if he was as flabbergasted as I felt. He was. He recovered and exclaimed, "What the fuck are you talking about? You have a problem with us being here? All we usually do here is talk, listen to music, watch TV, or sleep! It's not like we're bringing down the rafters by spending all night fu--"

"Ted! Please!" Emmett looked extremely agitated. "That type of harsh language is unnecessary."

I needed to say something. "Emmett! What's gotten into you? Your clothes are different; you're acting differently. You won't talk to us or spend time with us. What changed a few weeks ago?"

Ted collapsed back onto the sofa. "It was because of the test wasn't it?"

I was confused. "What test?"

Ted said wearily, "A few days before your birthday, I had a scare because I found out that one of my tricks was positive."

"But you were safe weren't you?"

"Not as safe as I should have been. It still turned out okay. I got tested and I was negative. Emmett got the test too--for moral support. Through some mix-up with a not-too-bright staff member at the health center, Emmett spent over a day not knowing.

My heart instantly broke. "Oh, Emmett. I wish that you had told me."

Emmett said serenely, "Don't worry. I was negative too. Thanks to Him."

"Thanks to who?"

"Thanks to *Him*--the Lord. In repayment for saving my life, I vowed to make some changes, Michael."

"And these changes involve getting a new wardrobe and dumping your friends?"

"I've joined a group called 'See The Light.' They've taught me that I need to extricate myself from certain corrupt influences. You're not my true friends if you lead me into temptation."

"This is ridiculous! You're trying to change all the things that make you who you are!"

"I don't want to be 'who I am' any longer. I want to be something different."

"Like what?" I asked with frustration.

"Like straight. It's not impossible, you know. I know you guys are my friends and you'll support me in anything I choose to do."

Ted had been sitting quietly, stewing, but his pot bubbled over. "Not in this we won't! Jesus, Emmett! You're being brainwashed by a bunch of sicko creeps who just happen to want every gay person on earth annihilated!"

"They said you might react badly. They told me you'd try to prevent me from finding my true self, and they were right." Emmett stood and picked up his bible. "Listen, Michael. This is your apartment and--"

"Em, don't--"

"No. This is YOUR apartment. I can start looking for a new one. In the meanwhile I would just ask that you be respectful of my feelings. But of course I can't make you do anything you don't want to do. I only wish that someday you would come to the same understanding as me, because this 'relationship' you're trying to have is going to destroy both your souls. I'm praying for you though. Good night." He walked into his bedroom and closed the door

He left us sitting, shell-shocked. The expression on Ted's face was grave. I wish that he had an answer to this problem because I sure didn't. I put my arms around him and we sat on the couch for a long time.

Maybe if we find him a really hot guy. One great fuck ought to change his mind. Emmett can't commit to anything.

No, Michael. This is going to require more drastic measures.

I had thought it was going to be easy. I spent a thousand bucks on what I thought would be a sure thing--to have the hottest man in the porn industry, Zack O'Toole, show up on Emmett's doorstep. My plan had backfired and I couldn't think of what to do. Michael was practically living with me this week because things were so tense at his apartment. We had even started fighting about stupid things--who left the cap off the toothpaste and who finished the last of the milk. When we started arguing about whether the toilet paper should be placed with the free end over or under the roll, we decided to take a break from each other. Michael went to play pool with Brian and Justin. I went to the movies with Melanie, who was having her own problems.

"You know, I never realized until seeing it with you that "Night at the Opera" was such an epic tragedy."

"I'm sorry, Teddy." She wiped her tears and her runny nose on a soaked handkerchief. "It's just that last Halloween, Lindsay went as Groucho and I went as Harpo. Nothing personal, but ever since we fought and I moved out, I wish I was with her."

"I understand. Most of my dates wish they were with someone else."

"Oh, don't say that. You're a real catch." She paused in her crying and hugged me. "Michael's real lucky to have you."

I hugged her back. "Thank you. I feel the same way about him. Holy shit!"

She laughed for the first time that night. "What? I got you all excited?"

I turned her around to see Emmett walking towards us, hand-in hand with a strange woman.

At first he sounded happy to see me. "Ted!" Then he became subdued. "Melanie. Hi. This is Heather--my date."

Melanie summed it up perfectly: "I don't believe it!"

"And she said what?"

"That she thought, from the hug, that we were 'normal.'"

"What did you say?"

"I said nothing. Melanie told her that we WERE normal."

"So in other words, she lied."

"Michael, this is not a joking matter. I'm really worried about Emmett. I feel like we're going to lose him forever. "

"Maybe he just needs to work through this."

"What if working through this means him getting married to a woman and halving 2.5 children and a dog? What then? What if he spends the rest of his life wearing khaki pants, oxford shirts, and penny loafers?"

I shuddered in horror. "I don't know. I wish we could go to one of those meetings and see what the hell they're saying that's so convincing."

Ted reached into his pocket and pulled out a hot pink slip of paper. "He gave me this flyer and invited me to one of the meetings. The address is on here."

We looked at each other for a minute. I stood up, grabbed my coat from the chair, tossed Ted his jacket, and said, "What are we waiting for?"

Ted drove and we rehearsed what we would say to Emmett.

"Do you think that he'll listen?" Ted had been more worried than I had ever seen him and it made my gut wrench. I tried to tell myself that we could convince Emmett, but I was terrified that we would fail. I reached out and put my hand on his thigh.

"All we can do is tell him that we love him and hope that he believes us."

We located the church where "See The Light" was meeting without difficulty. Inside, there were several men and women milling around or talking in small clusters. Emmett spotted us immediately and walked over with reluctance.

"Well. This is a surprise. Welcome to 'See The Light.'"

I looked again at the crowd. "The way some of these people dress they should change it to 'Turn Off The Light.'"

Emmett ignored my joke. "So what is this--like an intervention?"

Ted spoke. "We wanted to let you know that we still love you. Maybe not as much as Jesus, but almost...and that we're going to miss you."

"I'll especially miss the way you dance with your hands over your head," I added. "...and your Liza impersonation. That's the way I'll always remember you."

"Thanks. I don't think God appreciates it quite as much as you do."

Ted face became even more serious than it had been. "I think God appreciates it even more...because he created you in His image. At least that's what I was always taught. And since God is love and God doesn't make mistakes, then you must be exactly the way He wants you to be--the way He intended you to be. And that goes for every person, every planet, every mountain, every grain of sand, every song, every tear...and EVERY faggot. We're all His Emmett...and He loves us all."

We could see that Emmett was struggling not to cry. It was all I could do not to start bawling myself. Ted had said everything I thought and said it so beautifully that I had nothing to add except to kiss Emmett on the cheek and say goodbye. Ted turned to leave without further ado and I ran to catch up to him. Outside the church, he sagged against the wall and started crying silent tears.

I still had no words to make it better for him or for myself, so I hugged him and we cried together.

Michael and Melanie insisted on dragging me to Babylon when the last thing in the world I wanted to do was party. We had gathered at my apartment to drink and commiserate with each other. I didn't feel the need to do it in public. When I said no for the third time, Michael's face fell and he hurried to the bedroom, making some excuse about needing to change his shirt. Melanie admonished me silently, so I went to fix what I had broken. He was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. I sat next to him and tried to pull one of his hands down, but he yanked it from my grasp and slid away from me.

"Michael, I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. I'm sorry for pushing you." His voice seemed cold and lifeless.

"Michael, I changed my mind. We can go if you want." His shoulders started to shake. I wished I could see his face...look in his eyes. Soon I got my wish, but it wasn't as I expected. Instead of crying, Michael was laughing, which pissed me off. "I'm glad that you find something amusing when our best friend's brain is being warped by some lunatic fringe group with a homophobic agenda!" Even as I was shouting, I realized that his laughter was not of amusement and that he seemed on the edge of hysteria. My last words filled the room and his face crumpled into tears.

I slid closer to him and gathered him in my arms. Slowly I felt his shaking and sobbing subside and his breathing slow. "Michael, I'm thinking of doing some investing in the stock market."

"What?" he replied in confusion. His voice was still shaky but at least he was no longer hysterical. I rubbed slow circles on his back.

"I'm going to invest in Kleenex. In the last month, between the two of us, we've done enough crying to last us both two and a half lifetimes."

He sniffed loudly and started to shake again. "Oh Teddy, don't make me laugh. My stomach hurts."

"Maybe we should dance it off. I heard they're giving out free drinks at Babylon."

That was two hours ago. So now the three of us were standing at the bar, arguing about the cosmopolitan aspects of Pittsburgh. We all agreed that there were none.

"How about a dance?" suggested Melanie, hopefully.

I couldn't bring myself to do it "No. It would just remind me of Emmett."

Michael tried. "Another drink?"

"I'd start to cry."

Melanie had an alternative offer. "What about a nice, stiff dick?"

"Hey!" Michael slapped her lightly on the shoulder. "That's my arena! Go find your own."

I felt a tiny bit better. "Now you're starting to sound like him. I always remember how he used to say, 'It's just not sex with--'"

"...without something up your butt." We all whipped around at the sound of the familiar Southern drawl. Emmett was standing behind us with Heather in tow.

My heart sunk to my toes. "Oh no. Now you've come to Babylon to proselytize."

Emmett insisted, "That's not why we're here."

Heather piped in. "We've seen the light."

Michael, Melanie, and I said in unrehearsed unison, "We know."

Emmett said emphatically, "A different light."

Melanie voiced our doubts: "What about your success story? Your heterosexual relationship?"

"Oh, we're a success story," said Emmett. He looked at Heather.

"We shared it with the group," she continued for him.

Emmett spoke again. "Mm hmm. I told them, 'Some of us are meant to eat pussy...and some of us are meant to suck cock. But either way, God loves us.'"

Heather smiled and put her arm around Em's shoulders. "They agreed that God loves us."

Emmett laughed joyfully. "And then they told us to get the fuck out!"

I was afraid to ask, but I had to. "Then you're really back?"

Emmett smiled broadly and spread his arms with flair. "Honey, my flame has been rekindled and is burning brighter then ever. Come on all of you. I want to dance with my favorite new couple."

Heather and Emmett pulled us all onto the dance floor and we happily let them. The infectious musical rhythm filled our hearts and moved our feet for hours.

Chapter 9

3 months later

We all met at Lindsay and Melanie's house to share dinner. No particular occasion--just a gathering of friends. We were lounging around the living room. Brian was playing with Gus on the floor. Emmett was picking Justin's artistic brain for ideas about how to do Torso's latest window display. Melanie and Lindsay were snuggled side by side on the couch. I was right where I wanted to be--sitting on Ted's lap. So far he hadn't complained. Until he did, I wasn't moving. I had been regaling Lindsay with the small saga that was our relationship.

Lindsay was saying with disappointment, "I can't believe I missed all that! How could all that be going on without anyone telling me?"

Melanie kissed Lindsay's cheek. "Sorry, babe. From now on, all gossip goes through you first--but only if we stay together forever." She turned to me. "You haven't even told her the best part."

Lindsay looked at all of us in surprise. "There's more?"

I looked down at Teddy. "Do you want to tell them?"

"No, you go on. You tell it much better than I do."

Brian said sarcastically, "That's because he's only told it a hundred times! Do we have to hear this again? We practically have it memorized."

Justin broke off his conversation with Emmett to participate in the discussion. "You could take a lesson from Michael and Ted, Brian."

"Ha!" He said with a short laugh. "What could they possibly teach me?"

"How to maintain the fire in a relationship. Why can't you be romantic and spontaneous and thoughtful like them?"

"Uh...because I'm not a woman?" He said as if the answer should be obvious.

Lindsay interrupted the argument. "You may have heard it a hundred times, but I haven't. Go on Michael."

I settled into Ted's lap, leaned my head against his and began: "I was working at the Big Q on Valentine's Day..."

"Brian!" exclaimed the group.

He gave us an innocent look. "I'm just trying to clarify the roles in the story. Excuse me for wanting accuracy."

With great patience, Ted told Brian, "He IS straight. Now let Michael finish his story." Brian shrugged and kept quiet.

"BRIAN!"

"I'm only saying what we're all thinking. Doesn't he seem a little too interested in our sexual habits?"

"I wouldn't know, Brian. I'm just his boss. We haven't really discussed the issue."

"Maybe you should. He probably just needs a friend to help him kick down the closet door."

"I'll think about it. Now let me finish."

"Was I stopping you? Please continue."

"I asked him what the fuck he meant by that--"

"Way to go Mikey! I love it when you get aggressive....Sorry...Continue."

"I asked him..."

We all looked at Brian and he shrugged in a semi-apology. "Just my opinion."