Gay Erotic Stories

“Mitchell, get in here, NOW!” My boss’ voice rang out through the office, and all eyes turned to me. I shuddered, and stood up from my desk as the faces around me looked away. I could hear the muffled sniggers as I made my way to the source of that shout. I tried desperately to think of what I might have done to incur his wrath in the last few days, but nothing would come to mind. I knocked timidly at his door and sat myself down across the desk from him. “This is all wrong!” his voice boomed at me. “Look, here, and here, and here!” I stared in silence at the offending notes, circled in angry red. Instantly I could see that the errors were not mine, they had come from the source documents he himself had prepared and handed me yesterday afternoon. “B … but …” I stammered, earning myself a bristling look of indignation. “Got something to say?” his tone was one of fury. “No, sir,” I answered despondently. “Then get this fixed before you go!” “Y … yes, sir.” I knew it was going to take at least an hour and a half to correct his mistakes, and it was already 4.30. But I had nowhere to go anyway. And my quiet, introverted self was never going to argue or protest to him. I found it impossible to stand up for myself at these times, always terrified that I would be shouted down or worse. I knew I lacked self-confidence, but there was nothing I could do about it. My head was buried in the printouts as I worked madly at trying to right the wrongs, when I heard Tim’s voice nearby. He was the office hunk, and I adored him from afar. I doubted he even knew I existed, but I hung on his every word, and my fantasies were full of him. He was very much the self-assured, attractive man I wished I could be, and he wore it with ease. He was openly gay, and loved nothing better than to flirt with the girls in the office, knowing they loved his teasing and secretly imagined they could ‘convert’ him. “Hey, Tim,” called Sally, the woman at the workstation right next to me. “Going out tonight?” He walked over to her and bent down, his voice a stage whisper that could be heard across the room, “Of course, darling, it’s Friday night! You wanna join me?” “Maybe …” she started, hope in her voice. “I found a new bar I’m going to try out tonight,” he went on. “I hear it’s always packed with gorgeous men, all of ‘em just begging to take you home for some horizontal folk dancing!” Sally gasped, responding exactly the way he planned, covered her mouth and giggled stupidly. I wondered why he bothered. And I secretly wished that it were me he was taking home for some of that ‘folk dancing’ he boasted about. I was sure he would be out and about tonight, picking up some beautiful man, and then back to his place for a long hot session of sex. Just the thought of Tim engaged in intercourse with another body had me both jealous and aroused at the same time. As he wandered away, my eyes followed him closely, gazing longingly at the perfectly rounded cheeks of his arse, and the slim waistline below wide shoulders. But I had work to finish, so I put my head down again and got on with it. By the time I was done, the place was deserted. Everyone else had left and I was the last out of the office, just ahead of security, who were coming around to lock up. At least the problems were fixed, and I told myself, without much hope, that my boss would be pleased when he found everything right on Monday morning. Letting out a sigh, I headed home, another long, lonely weekend stretching out before me. On the train going home, I remembered Tim’s words, and thought about him going out, looking for sex. By the time I had reached my flat, and changed out of my workday clothes, I was feeling horny, my own needs surfacing again, as they often did Friday evenings. I told myself that going out drinking and hoping to pick up a man would result in the same old disappointment, and the all too familiar headache the next morning, but it was either my libido or the Inner Romantic that argued, convincing me that I needed to be out and about, that the right man would be waiting for me to come along and that all I had to do was show up. So I gave in to myself, showered and dressed. I ran a critical eye over my reflection in the mirror. Surely I wasn’t that bad, was I? My arms and chest were developed and strong, my waist narrow. I was fit enough – all those hours I spent working off my frustrations at the gym had left my body looking okay, but I just didn’t seem to have the ability to talk to strangers. Every time someone tried to speak to me in a bar, I froze. My jaw locked and my mind went blank, and pretty quickly I was left alone again. Not tonight, I told myself, as I let myself out of the flat and wandered toward the strip. Fifteen minutes later I was seated at a bench near the wall of a half-crowded bar, nursing a drink and staring at the other patrons while trying not to be obvious. I let my eyes roam around the crowd, but quickly looked away if I made eye contact with anyone I found attractive, afraid he would think I was being pushy or impolite. Suddenly, I looked up to see Tim enter the room. My heart was in my mouth, and I sank back into the shadows where I was sitting, afraid he would see me and at the same time wishing he would come over and speak to me. But he didn’t. He made his way to the counter and ordered a drink, then leaned back with one elbow on the bar as he turned facing away from me and began surveying the crowd. After about ten minutes, he walked over to a man sitting alone near one of the doors, and leaned down to him. I was too far away to hear what was said, but my imagination filled in the gaps quickly enough. I waited, expecting to see them leave, but instead, Tim stood up quickly and walked away from the man, back to the counter where he quickly downed what was left of his drink and ordered another. Intrigued, I sat glued to my seat as I watched my fantasy man swallow several more drinks, and then approach another man further along the counter from himself. Again, they engaged in conversation for maybe ten minutes, and again, I sat expectantly, sure they would leave arm in arm for a night of hot love making. But once more, Tim broke away and turned his back on the man, whose face gave an impression of disinterest. I was completely absorbed with watching Tim now, and ignored everything and everyone around me as I followed his every move with my eyes. For the next two hours, I sat, mesmerised by him and by his actions, becoming more and more confused. He drank – a lot – and struck up conversations with three other people, but each time the heads turned away and he was alone again after five or ten minutes. What was wrong with these guys? Couldn’t they see how attractive, how desirable he was? The last man that he approached seemed less inclined to talk. As I stared, Tim leaned down to him several times, but the object of his attention kept turning away, waving his hand at Tim’s face. For several minutes I could tell that Tim tried harder and harder to speak to this guy, but wouldn’t take the hint or accept the rebuttal directed at him. Finally, the other man lost patience and stood quickly, pushing at Tim’s chest so that my idol stumbled and fell backward, going down on the floor in a shower of spilt alcohol and curious gazes from the others standing around him. Instantly I was on my feet and racing over to make sure he was all right, and I found him still on his back, shaking his head dazedly and trying to drag himself to his feet. I reached down and took his arm, helping him up. “Are you okay?” I asked, seriously concerned, forgetting all else, including my own reluctance and embarrassment at speaking to him. He looked at me first with a blank expression, and then a dawning recognition. “Yeah, uh, I guess I’m okay,” he said slowly. His words were slurred, and I could smell the booze on his breath. After what I had seen him consume, I was amazed that he was still conscious. “Um, Jared, isn’t it? Jared Mitchell, from work?” My name came out as “Zzharrrd Misshell” but I smiled and nodded at him. “C’mon, Tim,” I urged him. “You need to take a break, come and sit down.” I tried to help him as best I could toward a booth at the rear of the bar, as he became a dead weight on my shoulder. I somehow managed to push him into the seat and get him upright against the table. “Sho,” he pronounced grandly, “whatcha doin here? I didn’t know you were gay?” He had great difficulty getting the words out and I had to concentrate to understand what he was saying. “I just came out for a drink, relax after the week at work,” I said off-handedly, as I studied him intently. He nodded at that, as if my statement were a deep and meaningful insight, and his eyes narrowed. “Me,” and he pointed at his own chest, “I wassh juss lookin for some fun. Sshome-one to hold me an’ love me, you know?” I smiled at him. “I think it’s time you were out of here. I’ll get you home. Where do you live?” “Home!” he announced firmly. “Where’s that?” “Home!” That was all I could get of him, the single word, as if his brain couldn’t focus on anything else. With great difficulty I half walked, half carried him out of the place, and into a waiting cab on the street. Back at my flat, I needed the taxi driver’s help to get him upstairs and into the living room. As I paid for the fare and added a tip for the help, the cabbie looked at me sadly. “He ain’t gonna be any use to you tonight, mate!” I offered a weak grin, and as he left I dragged Tim into my bedroom where I managed to get him flat on his back on the bed, and carefully removed his shoes and shirt. When his chest was revealed, I stopped and stared. For so long I had dreamed about seeing him undressed, and here he was in my bed. Even in this state his chiseled pecs were beautiful, the soft down of hair against his tanned skin sweeping up to the small dark nubs of his nipples, his abdomen a sculpted six pack of hard muscle. Almost unconsciously, I let my hand fall, and my fingers traced a line from his neck down the centre of his torso to his navel as my cock twitched in my shorts. I unbuttoned his jeans and tugged at them, bouncing him around a little as I did to get them from him. As the denim slid away, it pulled at his jocks as well, and as his pants came from him with a rush, I fell back then stood up to find him completely naked on my bed. His narrow waist belied the thick thighs of someone who exercised a lot, but my attention was quickly drawn to the long uncut tube of flesh lying sideways at his groin. His cock was thick and smooth, lying flaccid over his nuts, which rolled slightly with a life of their own. I just stood and stared for minutes. But his body was not in easy repose. Twitches jolted him every so often, and he wriggled around in a troubled unconsciousness. His face was the clearest indicator of his unease. His eyes were squinted and his mouth twisted constantly, as if trying to form words but all that came out were mumbled sounds as his head moved from side to side. My long-standing lust for the man in my bed fought with the sense of sympathy, which welled up inside me as I watched his uncomfortable rest. Finally I reasoned that he was going nowhere, and going to be able to do nothing tonight, so I left him where he was, and returned to the living room, pouring myself a cool drink and sitting to consider my circumstances. Did I sleep on the couch and let him have the bed? Did I try to move him again so I could sleep in my own bed? Or did I leave him there and crawl in alongside, trying to keep my hands off him since he couldn’t respond anyway? Natural timidity and my lack of self-confidence got the better of me, and I opted to sleep on the sofa. I told myself it was the ‘gentlemanly’ thing to do, but in reality I was terrified of what he might do or say if he woke up and found me lying alongside him. I stripped and grabbed a light blanket, preparing for a long and uncomfortable night, when I heard a weak call from the bedroom. “Hello…?” Tim sounded lost and frightened. I raced in to him, forgetting my own nudity. “It’s okay, Tim, you’re safe,” I reassured him. His eyes opened and looked to me. “Jared? It is you, isn’t it?” “Uh huh!” His eyes opened a little more, but still they were glazed, and his words were mumbled sounds I had to translate carefully for myself. “Thanks, mate. Hey, you’re naked!” he suddenly observed, and I blushed. His eyes opened further, cleared a little. “Lookin’ good too, real good.” Now his voice descended into a husky whisper, and his hand strayed to his prick, slowly playing with his growing, thickening cock as his arousal increased. “Hey, Jared, come and get into bed with me,” he said slowly, invitingly. My heart jumped. How I had wished for this to happen, but not under these circumstances. “You’re drunk, Tim! You need to get some sleep or you’ll have the worst hangover tomorrow morning.” “C’mon, Jared,” he started to plead. “I want someone to hold me, someone to snuggle up to me, please?” His eyes were wide, and his voice begged. And my mind wanted to hear him ask me that question so much. Against my better judgment, I gave in and lay down next to the gorgeous body. As soon as I did he rolled to one side and threw his arm over me, pulling me against him. I could still smell the alcohol on his breath, but I could also feel the hardness of his erection pressing against my thigh, and my own cock jumped and swelled in response to his touch, and to the fantasy come to life of being next to him, naked and in bed. I remained still, my emotions cartwheeling. I wanted him so much, but I knew he was drunk, guessed he would be unable to do anything, and I was sure it wouldn’t be right for me to take advantage of him, even if I had the guts to do so. I was positive he would fall asleep again quickly, and I waited for his breathing to steady. But it didn’t. Instead, his prick kept pressing, rubbing now against my leg. His arm moved across my chest, and his fingers began to trace circles on my skin as he hummed softly near my ear. I resisted the urge to respond, but my balls rolled, and my cock throbbed, hard as steel and leaking the first droplets of pre-cum. My entire body tingled and my heart raced as Tim kept up his attention, and when his fingers found and pulled at my nipples, I gasped with delighted surprise, then let out a long moan of pleasure. As the sound escaped me, Tim rolled further over so that he was lying on his stomach, and his chest rested on mine. He leaned into me and our lips met. Suddenly, my resolve melted away, and I opened my mouth, my tongue licking at his teeth, as I tasted him, beer and all. I was living a dream, and I couldn’t help myself but surrender to the desires I had held for so long. As we kissed, Tim’s hand reached back, and he grabbed at my shaft, holding my steel hard prong tightly and massaging my cockhead between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing the sticky wetness of my initial oozing over my knob. I kissed him long, my arms around his neck and shoulders as I held him to me and ran my fingers across his strong wide back. My mind was bombarded with conflicting thoughts. Being with him like this was so good, what I had always dreamed of. But he was drunk, and I shouldn’t use him when he wasn’t thinking clearly. And what if this was just an urge to have sex on Tim’s part? Could I take his rejection in the morning when he realised what had happened? Reluctantly, but firmly, I pushed him away, onto his back, and leaned up over him on one elbow. “Tim, we can’t do this. You’re drunk, and upset, and you need to rest. God knows I want to, but you’ll probably regret it later.” His eyes were still narrow, still a little glazed, and his words slurring, but there was real need in his voice as he replied: “Please, Jared, I need you tonight. I really, really need you to hold me. I want you to fuck me, so bad …” With that, he pulled me back down onto himself. There was surprising strength in his powerful arms as he drew my body over his own and wriggled under me. Before I knew it, I was lying between his legs, my throbbing, aching tool mashing against his thick rod, and our lips met again in another drawn out kiss, this time fired with a real passion and a mutual desire I couldn’t fight. I abandoned my principles, and attacked his mouth, my arousal increasing and my urges taking over. After uncounted minutes locked together, I lifted my mouth away from his. He whispered softly, “Oh yeah, do it, do it!” and my instincts took control. I licked and nibbled at his chin, sliding my mouth down and along his neck and taking tiny bites at his soft skin. On an impulse, my lips closed over the tender skin at the base of his neck where it joined to his shoulder. I sucked and bit at the soft flesh, tasting him and chewing at his collarbone. He would have quite a souvenir for the next few days when that love bite darkened and the bruise coloured his skin. But it was low enough not to be obvious with a shirt on. My lips kissed a line from his neck across his chest as I explored that beautiful torso with my teeth, my body pressing against him, inflamed and unstoppable. I located his nipples, and my mouth closed over each in turn, licking the hard lumps of brown skin then biting at the tiny erections to pull them up and away from his chest before letting go and blowing warm air over the teased tits. With each new bite and tug, lick and blow, Tim writhed beneath me, groaning and hissing with enjoyment as I attacked him. Moving away from his nipples, I licked at the sculpted ridge of his pectorals, and slowly, sensuously, slid my lips over the mound of muscle that was his abdomen. My tongue snaked into his navel and twirled around at the nerve endings in that tiny hole before moving on to moisten the flat skin and downy hair, which led to his groin. His hands were at my head, squeezing gently and holding me to him as he whispered encouragement the whole time. As I lowered myself along his body, my chin came to rest against the firmness of his swollen cock, and I lifted my face away from him, to stare at the long thick tool, his slit glistening with pre-cum, his entire shaft bobbing with every beat of his heart as blood coursed through the veins of his manhood. I ached at the sight of him, trembled at the thought that only centimetres from me was the prize I had always wanted but never dared hope for. I licked out and scooped the drop of gooey liquid forming at his head, tasted his very essence, and groaned with delight. My tongue and my lips began to explore his meaty prod as I pushed back the tiny remaining scrap of foreskin and traced along the ridge of his knob, and down the length of his thick shaft, feeling the uneven skin where his blood vessels were highlighted over the rock solid muscle. I found his testicles, and nibbled gently at the wrinkled skin of his sac, before swallowing both of his nuts in turn and massaging those living orbs with my tongue. With an audible ‘plop’ his jewels escaped my bite, and fell back against his leg, continuing to roll around in their fleshy container. My greedy mouth then opened and fell onto the head of his prong. Stretching my jaw wide, I dived down over him, swallowing the length of his pole. My teeth scraped against the tender skin and my tongue rolled and caressed his shaft and I clenched my throat around him. Determined not to gag, I coated his cock with saliva, and slowly began to ride up and down on it as he thrust in time with my movements, fucking my face at a leisurely pace and moaning contented whispers as he did. I kept up my treatment of his pole for an age, massaging and moistening it, clamping on him and then releasing him to swallow once more. As the tempo of his driving in and out of my gullet increased, I sensed that he was close to the edge, and with a sigh, I lifted from him. His raging erection slapped back against his stomach and I dropped my face further, my hands behind his thighs as I pushed his legs up and lowered my hungry mouth to the soft and sensitive skin of his perineum, licking eagerly at the tender area between his balls and his anus. My tongue bathed that soft, erogenous region, working from his nuts to his hole and back again, finding and tracing his puckering bud. He was warm and soft, a masculine musk to him, which drove me wild, and I delved into his hole with my tongue, pushed at him and caressed his sphincter as I did. His breathing was speeding up, his body writhing under my touch, and his voice floated down to me. “Oh, fuck Jared, I need it, now! Fuck me, man, please!” Kneeling up, his legs around my waist, I looked to him, drinking in the view of his stunning body. “Are you sure?” I asked, wanting him more than ever. “Yes, yes, yes. Please, do it now,” he hissed back, his eyes wide and pleading with me. I didn’t need any more encouragement. As it was, my cock was leaking copious amounts of pre-cum, and my nerves were alive with anticipation and desire. Quickly, I reached to the bedside table and retrieved a condom and some lube, rolling the prophylactic over my throbbing cock and coating myself with the cool gel before applying a liberal helping of the stuff to Tim’s arse as well. I leaned forward again, over him as his legs came up and wrapped themselves around my waist once more. My body trembled as I nudged forward, and felt the head of my cock make contact with the soft flesh of his arse. His hand was there, holding my swollen member, guiding me toward the target he offered, leading my prick to his waiting hole. I felt the hollow of his pucker, felt the tissue resist against me as I began to press into him. He groaned and pushed back, opening himself and his hands went to my cheeks, holding me and pulling me down on himself. With little effort, my rod found its aim, and the head of my cock forced open his sphincter, pried apart the muscles and I entered him. The flood of sensations that hit me was almost overwhelming, as his arse closed tightly around my shaft, gripping just behind the mushroom head of my glans. He grimaced, and hissed quietly, and I stopped, held still, wondering if I should back out again. But he soon began to moan again, telling me how good I felt inside him. His words and his murmurings of delight were music in my ears, and with my heart beating and my cock aching, I slowly began to inch forward. The unbelievably wonderful sensation of his body clenching at me enveloped my tool as I slid gradually through his ring of muscle and penetrated his rectum. A creeping wet heat encased my cockshaft as moist, soft tissue welcomed my pulsing weapon into his bowel. On I went, deeper and further, burying myself in the fantastic man below me, erotic anticipation slowly replaced by passionate delight as my hard prong disappeared into his hole and the nerves in my prick relayed the sensational joy of his soft innards wrapping around me. My pelvis came to rest against the firm round shape of his cheeks as my cock buried itself to the hilt within him. My nuts were crushed against his flesh and I ached with joy as I completed my penetration. Tim moaned as I came to a stop and clenched his arse around me, the tightening grip of his ring at my shaft sending shudders of ecstatic pleasure into my prick, and reverberating throughout my body. Slowly I pulled back a little, feeling the suction of his rectum at my inflamed prong, and then drove myself back quickly, thrusting my steely rod into his gut once more. The heated wetness of his body around me, holding me and welcoming my invasion was incredible, and tingles of passionate delight radiated from my groin up through my gut and into my brain as I began to move inside him, in and out, gently at first and then faster and faster as my natural instincts took control. Tim gasped and groaned below me, hissing between his teeth and whispering at me. “Oh, yeah, fuck me, man! Fuck me good! Do it, yeah, oh shit that feels so nice, yeah!” he muttered, almost to himself rather than to me as we fell into an easy rhythm of thrusts and jabs, his compliant, open hole pierced by my fleshy dagger and the friction of our union generating a lusty heat in both of us. As I ploughed his arse, he writhed and bucked. His legs lifted and scissored around my waist and his heels pressed against my butt. Using all the strength of those long limbs, he hunched up at me, driving me into himself and holding us together in urgent need. With the force of his grasp, I fell forward, and my arms went under his back, my hands finding and then pulling hard at his shoulders as my rampant poker plumbed the depths of his gut, fought against the suctioning innards to withdraw, and slammed back in again. Now we formed a sweating, gasping ball of flesh and muscle as I knelt into him and my arms were around him, almost lifting him off the bed as I fucked deep into his being. His legs were wrapped firmly around my waist, his arms clenched tightly at my shoulders and his arse gripping powerfully at my manhood. Shuddering together, locked in the embrace of rut, we fucked each other. I pounded my cock harder, faster into him. He clenched and gripped, holding me and demanding more. I felt his hot cavern squirm and move as I invaded his depths with my aching rod, shoving my long throbbing cock deeper and harder into the soft warmth of his gut, needing him, needing to be further and further inside him, needing to be joined completely with this man. Locked together as we were, wrapped around each other and heaving and humping together in animal lust, our faces inched closer and closer together, until our lips brushed. And then we kissed! A hard, grinding, suctioning kiss, inflamed with passion and driven by mutual need. As my cock explored his bowel, his tongue explored my mouth, and we became one, a single rolling entity consumed by explosive lust-filled ecstasy. I humped harder and deeper into the living receptacle impaled on my throbbing sword, embedded myself deep inside him as he drove his tongue into my throat, his squelching wet bowel holding my very masculinity as we fucked and humped our way to a blinding, all-embracing crescendo. Without warning, my orgasm exploded within me. I tried to lift my face away, to yell out, to breathe, but his hand flew to the back of my head and pulled my lips back to his, holding me in an unbreakable grip, and I surrendered to my needs. Time came to a halt as my entire body screamed for release, and my prick swelled to gargantuan proportions deep within his bowel. My balls drew up hard and surged, and my dick erupted as load upon load of my juice was pumped into the already searing cauldron of his gut. Spasms rocked me, but Tim held even more tightly, his hand at my head, arms around my shoulders, legs locked on my waist and his amazing arse clamped hard over my shaft. As I came I shuddered and trembled, and slowly, through the haze of climactic abandon, I realised that he too was engulfed in spasms of delight. I felt the white-hot stickiness of his cream coating my stomach, filling the space between our bodies and jetting upward as he exploded. As the power of climax subsided, we finally broke our kiss, and each of us gasped deep lungfuls of air as still our bodies shook from the strength of our orgasm. Slowly, reluctantly, I lay him back onto the bed and extricated my arms from beneath his back. I began to withdraw my still hard but sated prick from his body, but he wriggled his hips, clamped his sphincter again, and grinned at me, milking my cock with his anus as I carefully withdrew. Discarding the condom, I collapsed beside him and we kissed again, softly this time, our fingers playing over each other’s chests. For a few minutes we basked in the glow of post-coital recovery, and as I looked to Tim’s face I could see the combination of alcohol and sex had taken their toll. His eyes were closing, and soon he drifted into a deep sleep. I took the time to quickly clean myself up, and to wipe his slumbering torso as well, before whispering into his unhearing ear, “Thank you!” I climbed back into bed alongside the beautiful man, snuggled up to his side, and slept. The next morning when I woke, Tim was still asleep, one arm thrown across my chest and his face nuzzled close to mine. In the first few moments of consciousness, I let my eyes feast on the handsome body and remembered the delights of the previous evening. Now I was fully awake, but he gave no sign of life, so I got up and showered quickly, dressing and heading out to grab a couple of croissants for our breakfast. When I returned, he hadn’t moved and I put some coffee on, sitting and staring out of the window, wondering what his reaction would be. The smell of the coffee must have brought him around. I heard a muffled thud from the bedroom, and then Tim’s face appeared, looking sheepishly into the living room, messily attired in a crumpled shirt and hastily pulled on jeans. “Uh, hello?” he said uncertainly. “Good morning,” was my bright reply. Recognition, followed by confusion, crossed his face. “Jared? Jared Mitchell!” “That’s me. Coffee?” “Uhh, yes please.” I couldn’t help but grin at the look of loss in his eyes as I poured us each a cup and motioned for him to sit at the counter. “Sleep well?” I asked innocently. As he sipped at the steaming brew, he looked around my flat as if seeing it for the first time. He was obviously at a loss for words, but I let him stew for several minutes, until guilt overcame me. “How’s the head?” I asked. “You really should have quite a hangover, you know!” “Err, not too bad, actually.” There was some genuine surprise in his voice. “Um, how did I get here?” “I picked you up, literally, in the ‘Shift’ last night. You were flat on your back, and somewhat the worse for wear! I couldn’t get you to tell me where you lived, so I brought you here.” “Shit!” Vehemence now, followed by contrition, “I’m sorry, mate, and thank you for saving me.” Then surprise: “Hey, what were you doing at the ‘Shift’?” “Same as you I guess, looking for some company …” “Hell, I didn’t even know you were gay!” “We can’t all be as out and proud as you,” I said, then immediately felt guilty for making it sound like an accusation. I studied him then, wondering just how much he really didn’t remember. My heart was racing, but my natural timidity and lack of confidence was scared he would reject me if I pushed him too far, so I decided that discretion was the order of the day. “Listen, “ he started, searching for the words that just wouldn’t seem to come. “Did I …? I mean, I hope I wasn’t like, well, obnoxious, or umm …?” “You were drunk, but that’s all,” I smiled at him, trying to put him at ease. “A perfect gentleman, if a little incoherent!” He grinned back, before his face clouded again. “What about …? I mean, being here … with you. Did we …?” I took a deep breath, pretended to misunderstand, and lied. “Your secret is safe with me. I promise no-one at work will find out you spent the night at my place, and nothing happened anyway.” I expected to see relief, but instead he seemed somehow disappointed. He sipped again at his coffee as I got the croissants and presented one to him. He ate it in silence, a silence that was almost deafening as he sat in thought. “Jared,” he asked slowly, cautiously, “are you a closet case?” “No,” I laughed, “just not outgoing like you. I find it hard to talk to people about myself, that’s all.” “Seems to be my problem,” he said wistfully. “I remember trying to pick up a couple of guys last night …” “Six!” I said, then immediately wished I had kept quiet. He blushed, and went on. “But I think I must have seemed desperate or too anxious. They always tell me I’m too pushy, tell me to back off.” “I can’t think why,” I said. “I’ve wished you would ask me a hundred times!” I whispered more to myself than to him, then gulped as I realised he’d heard me. “But I didn’t even know you were gay! You are always so stand-offish at work. I just assumed you were straight, otherwise …” he trailed off at that, blushing again. We finished our coffee and breakfast quietly, each pondering the other’s words. As I cleaned up, he looked at me, a long stare, and took another deep breath. “You know, I had a dream last night, but it was so real. You and me, we, um, …” “Yeah, go on,” I called from the kitchen, my heart pounding. Would he remember it? “Oh, it doesn’t matter, just a dream. Still, it was a nice one. Maybe some time …” he stopped, and my heart sank again. “I guess I’d better get myself cleaned up and leave you in peace,” he said, changing the subject. “Sure,” I said, trying to sound casual. “If you want to shower, there’s a fresh towel on the vanity.” He stood and walked slowly back into the bedroom, and I stopped, leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to catch my breath, my mind reeling. Why couldn’t I just say something, tell him what happened, ask him to stay? I heard a laugh, deep and strong, from my room. “Hey Jared?” “Yeah” “Would you like to come over to my place this afternoon?” “What?!” I was incredulous, as I walked quickly toward the bedroom, just in time to see him exit, bare from the waist up. “It seems my dream was more real than I thought, and I was kinda hoping you might like to help me keep it going?” he asked, a mischievous smile on his face, as he turned to one side and pointed at the large dark bruise at the base of his neck, just above his collarbone. It was my turn to go a deep shade of scarlet, before he reached for me, his hand on my cheek. “What do you say, stud?” he whispered softly. Together we grinned, smiles that threatened to split our faces. “You got a date!” I declared happily. Comments, complaints or compliments? Email me at iainlthr@hotmail.com