Almost Like Family

Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe "inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the "innocent." By all means, send feedback along to AtlantisGuy@aol.com

The funny thing is, in some ways, just chilling with Jeremy was as great as fucking him.

Okay, let's not kid ourselves... but you know what I mean.

Maybe it was the stereotypical guy thing, or stereotypical straight guy thing, but seconds after we were baring our souls to each other, we quickly backed up and returned to busting each other's balls. Guy shit. Big boy laughter, from little boy humor. We had a blast, stuffing our faces with food and excitedly talking with our mouths full.

And yeah... there was an... extra glow around Jeremy. Confidence. Even cockiness, but in the best, male sense. And somewhat out of character for him, he kept going on and on about plans to start getting ahead at work, maybe even taking some business classes to take on more of the administrative responsibilities. At one point I was ribbing him, "Look at you! All... planning and shit!" I gotta say, it suited him. Ambitious without being cutthroat. Thinking ahead. Wanting more out of life. Seeing him in that confident glow, I was reminded all over about how much I liked him.

Maybe in all of this, that was one of the surprises: I... liked him. A lot.

How... unbelievable was that, when you think of it? To find a guy, as an adult, as a man, who you didn't just like in a general sense, but truly and genuinely liked? Found someone you knew deep down was your ride-or-die, partner in crime?

But unlike my good times with my other buddies, our friendship clearly had more of an edge to it. And that was certainly the case now. Even after a round or two together, we were still circling each other like sharks. Our banter was liberally sprinkled with sexual innuendo. I mean, guy talk is anyway, but this was more... pointed. We were deliberately keeping each other at a low boil.

And naturally, it started to boil over.

After stuffing our faces, we started to clean up. But somehow our hands stayed busy with... other things... rather than clear off the table. Shit. He kept... doing things. Not just with his pair of roving hands, but with his tongue. Right behind my ear. Sliding up to me, and... damn. I was getting him back; his magic spots were many, and included his neck and nipples. We were both sporting some rising wood, our hearts were going strong, and our voices were lowering into low baritone rumbles.

Finally, I broke away, spurning his wandering fingers. "Okay. I sprang for this food, so you're doing cleanup. We're not doing anything until you load the dishwasher." Jeremy let out an exasperated whine. "The faster you move, the faster we can move on to bigger and better things. And I'm sure you remember just how much bigger and better I am."

Jeremy tired to scoff, but he got his butt in gear.

God... watching that man just did something to me. His body. His movements. Unmistakably male. Familiar. Exciting.

I moved over to the couch, watching him hustle. I was sprawling out there, at the center of the L-shaped joint where a chaise extended out from the sofa. Temptation personified. Openly leering at him. Stoking myself slowly. I was fully hard, with my balls charged again.

Jerking, waiting.

At last, Jeremy kicked the dishwasher door shut. I had no doubt loverboy there was so worked up he had simply thrown the dishes in with all the care of a rabid raccoon, but he was done and made his way over to me. Rock hard himself, despite the indignity of the food cleanup. His juices were clearly flowing.

I had an idea. One I thought he would... enjoy.

I stopped him, standing there, before he could slide onto the couch with me. "Wait a second, bud," I growled, in a voice so dripping with sex that even one of those battle-hardened hookers from down by the docks would blush. "Let me express my appreciation for you stopping by tonight."

He got a skeptical look on his face, but there was no busting his chops this time, no jerking him around. Just me showing my appreciation.

I extended my leg. Slowly. Like a burlesque dancer. Catching my toes on his meaty thigh. Fuuuuck... all that biking he did worked wonders with my bud's legs. I started running my toes through his course hair. Upwards. Up. "C'mhere, friend." He stepped closer. And my leg flexed. Reaching. Using my big toe to make slow circles over his skin. Jeremy had been watching my foot, but now raised his eyes, catching mine.

He gave me a sinner's smile.

I slowly dragged my toes across his hair-covered muscles, still up, and up. Right until I reached his hairy ballsack. His telephone pole of a dick was throbbing in time with his heartbeat. My toes slid behind his balls. Rolling them. Feeling the course sweep of his bush against my toes. Jeremy moaned; I had his undivided attention.

I slid my foot up, flexing, rolling the sole around his rock-hard dick. Curling my toes around his shaft, like I was jacking him. Up and down, up and down. Feeling the drool of his cocksnot as it leaked from his piss slit, and smearing it across the arch of my foot. "I remember you liking my feet," I growled huskily. "One of the first things you did. You fucking rocked my world."

"Fuck yeah," he snarled back. He pulled my foot up, bringing it to his face. Rubbing the foot across himself. Dry smearing it. Letting himself feel the skin. His beard scraped at me, almost tickling. Almost. But the intensity in his eyes as he dragged his scruffy jaw against me instantly killed any and all laughter in my throat.

Something snapped in him—the feel? the scent? the memory? Something snapped, and suddenly he went after my foot hard, as hard as he did when he was eating my ass. Rough. Not giving a shit. His tongue flared out, slurring my skin. I moaned out appreciatively. Fuck. He was making me feel good. Showing me things. Rolling me with his mouth, his tongue. Getting me wet. Sending liquid fire inside me to match the wetness of his spit. Rougher. More forceful. Luxuriating in the feeling.

He opened his mouth and went down on me, sucking my toes like it was my cock. Sucking. Sucking hard. His hand rubbing up and down my hairy leg, feeling the friction in his hands. Sucking. His tongue oozing between my toes. Fuck. It was so... low. So gloriously raunchy. Primal. Not giving a fuck about propriety. Spit was running between my toes, running down the underside of my foot. My cock was throbbing to the pounding of my heart. Lost. Jeremy was lost. Fucking overwhelmed.

Yeah, the first time he did this, I gave him my ass. I'd do it again in the heartbeat.

But not just yet.

I dropped my foot back down, down to work over his engorged cock. It was easier now, with my foot slick and nasty with spit. Sliding across his dick. I slid my butt forward so I could bring my other foot to really jerk him. That one was still too dry. I raised it up, "Spit on it for me." Jeremy gave me a half-smile and took that foot into his mouth too, mouth-fucking my toes. Sucking me. Making me feel good.

I dropped down and gripped his cock with my spit-slick feet. Massaging it. Feeling his hardness. The scour of his hairy balls. Jeremy was... aroused. In a testosterone-fueled daze. Tweaking his hairy nipples, flushed with excitement. His eyes filled with fucking fire as he watched me. Me slowly jacking my own cock, matching the motions.

Making my guy feel good.

Jeremy finally wrenched himself back to reality, turning a truly frightening gaze on me. Looming over me. Women would have screamed; my dick got harder.

Jeremy moved in, dropped to his knees, and savagely went down on me. Swallowing my cock deep into his gullet. No playing. No teasing. Fire. Sucking me so hard, so fast, I yelped. He didn't back down; and as he fucking swallowed me down, my eyes rolled all the way back into my head. "FUUUUUUUUCK! Oh God man, fucking take me!"

Jeremy fucking took me.

He started slamming his head up and down, mouth-fucking me for all he was worth. His tongue slurring down my shaft and he went, as he sucked as hard as he could. He went too fast, fucking gagging himself, but he was too far to care. He did it again, gagged again. Sucking hard. It was hot as fuck.

His hands ranging free and hard against my hairy torso, with my skin coming alive at his touch. Lightning. Lighting across my skin. Lightning down the saft of my cock. Alive. Making me feel alive as only another man could do. Pulling one hand back to grip my shaft, his spit running through his fingers as he went. Jerking me as he sucked me. Working my cockhead with his tongue, the rest of me with his hand. I writhed underneath him. My own hands gripping him. Swirling through his hair, digging into his shoulders. Fuck. FUCK.

I needed his cock.

I was only dimly aware of throwing him back, perpendicular to me on the couch, and crawling over him like some inhuman beast so I could get at his cock. OH GOD. God, his scent. The man musk. Already made heady by a long day of work, but infused with the smell of man sex. Smelling of sweat. Spit. My ass juice. Cum. FUCK. Jeremy growled, snarling out his pleasure. I was simultaneously raping his dick my mouth and all but hyperventilating smelling that musky brew. Sucking him harder than even he had sucked me. A battle of talent, showing him up. More sounds. Showing how fucking hot for him I was. Sucking. Driving down. Sucking. Feeling his body shudder below me. Making him mine. Sucking. Making him howl.

Jeremy couldn't keep himself away. He roughly rolled me on my back, then slithered his body over me like an infernal snake. Fuck. He took my cock back into his mouth while backing his ass into my face. I fucking attacked him. Feverish in my need. GOD I loved his butt funk. Raw. Primal. Masculine. The smell of man-sex. I lost my mind. Sucking his hole as hard as I had his cock. Sweeping side to side, scouring his skin with my stubble. Lapping him up, and back to sucking. Sucking his pucker so hard I was driving him forward. Jeremy kept is mouth on my dick throughout, matching me for brutal intensity. Locked in our own world of raw masculinity. Raw man sex.

His ass had me burning like a thousand suns exploding in the sky at once. I pawed at the bottle of lube I had next to me. I violently forced him back, nearly folding him in half, knees to chest. I roughly hoisted up his hips to spread his buttcheeks, and lined up my cock. There would be time, later, for teasing. Time for a beautiful romantic moment. Not now. Not fucking now. Not while I was raging with enough testosterone in my body to kill a whale.

I slammed into him. Deep. His eyes flew open and he roared. I pulled all the way out, and fucking rammed him again. Balls deep. Ramming. Again. Take that, fucker. Like battleships colliding. Fuck it—I didn't care how much it stung, he could fucking cope. I savagely gripped his shoulders for balance, and fucking pounded him in, deep. DEEP. Holding. Then pulling back and pounding him again. We both roared, like dinosaurs tearing at each other. Driven by that desperate need to mate, or die trying. Feeling that indescribably heat, that pressure of his tight hole. Tighter than any cunt. Tight enough for a man. UUUNNGH. Pounding into him. Again. UNNNNGH!! Again.

Jeremy's hand launched forward, sliding them under my armpits and around. He grabbed me... and fucking wrenched me into him, as hard as I was pounding his ass. AAAARRRRRGH! AAARRRGH!! Again and again we collided. Roaring out our need. Fucking. Fucking like MEN. Goddamn it, I was fucking alive! Brought to life as I could never be brought to life with a woman. AAAARRRRRGH! Slamming. Jeremy was red, his teeth clenched enough to dent steel. Sweat ran down my nose, splashing across the face with each violent thrust. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!

I could feel my balls churning, and knew I was close. I reared back, and started thunder-pounding him. Fast. FAST. FEEL THAT, FUCKER! Pounding the cum out of me. Fast. Furious. Clenching. Teeth. Hands. Pounding. Pounding. Fucking POUNDING.

And with an almighty roar, I fucking exploded. Blasting my baby batter into him. Not stopping. Churning it like unholy whipped cream as I slammed into him. Bellowing the whole time. The white foam splattering out his well-used hole. Still I pounded. Pounded. Losing focus. Still... losing... drifting... aww fuuuuuuck.

Finally, with no fight left in me, I slid out, and collapsed so I was sitting beside him. Panting. Ears ringing. Flushed in victory. I was spent, not knowing day from night. But fucking on top of the world.

To my surprise, Jeremy pulled himself up, rolled over on top of me, and started kissing me. Deep and physical. God. The feel of his scruffy beard on my face. That feeling of... intimacy. With another dude. It... never stopped amazing me. Never got old. That this fucking lion of a man wanted... me. Shared this amazing experience, willingly. He wanted this. With... me. I mean, the man was a god. A lumberjack god. No one would willingly mess with him. And from the way he was raised, it would have seemed far more likely that he'd kick my ass rather than fuck it. Let alone let me fuck him.

But on top of everything, here was this Manly Man... kissing me. More gay, more intimate than even getting fucked. Kissing me in a way that set off a tornado of butterflies in my stomach.

How was this... possible...?

I didn't care. God. I was loving all of it. Needing it. More than anything I'd needed in my life.

I think it was at that moment that the rational part of my brain finally stood down. Not needing to think things through. Just so swept up in the... the fucking joy of the moment that I finally let go. Lost in that kiss.

Lost in Jeremy.

But Jeremy had more on his mind than making out. As I sat there at the crook of the sofa, Jeremy started kissing his way down. Mouthing me. Dragging his face across my sweaty pecs. Suckling at my hairy nipples. Setting my skin on fire. The butterflies inside my stomach were now dancing along my skin in the wake of that obscene man-tongue. Slurring left and right. Slurring. Everywhere. A long, languid lick down my chest... down. Down. Slurring spent cum from my bellybutton. Wet and heavy. Down. Down.

And fucking landing on my cock.

God! Having shot such a massive load, I was pretty sensitive. And... Jesus... I mean, I had just been inside him. He didn't give a fuck. Lost in this primal, all-consuming male moment. Taking me in. Leaving off the harshest of sucking while I was in recovery, but... licking me. Rolling my still-swollen cock head around his mouth. Slurping down my shaft and working my balls. Jesus... even though he was careful, I was still squirming at the intensity of it. Like I was pushing through one of those freeze-headaches from eating ice cream too fast. Writhing. Just on the cusp of pain. Moaning. Raking my hands through his hair and down his back. Barely keeping it together. Totally lost in the moment. Sharing it. Sharing a moment as no woman ever would. My cock, his mouth, my hands, my dizzying brain...

I needed to return the favor. Show him the same care, the same respect he had shown me.

Jeremy was essentially laying perpendicularly to me—his face in my crotch, his naked body splayed down the length of the chaise section of the sofa. I was running my hands down his spine, and decided to keep going. I lightly freed myself from his mouth so I could slide over him, moving head-first down towards his feet. I rolled my tongue out, lazily circling a spot right between his shoulder blades, then running down the base of his spine to the small of his back. Down. Down further. I slid down him, feeling the wetness of his sweaty skin.

Down. Down.

Down to where I could finally run my face through his hairy crack.

Slow motions. Wet motions. He was hot, on fire. And our heart-pounding fucking had him nice and sweaty. Fucking GAAAAWWWWD... the scent of man-sex. This man's sex. I swept my face to take in each of his meaty asscheeks. Biting, then kissing them. Feeling the sensations ripple through Jeremy's body. Making out with his ass, from above. Running my tongue down him again, down to his hole. Wet with my frothy load. Relaxed from having just been ripped apart by my fat dick. Fucking making out with him, sliding my tongue in. Opening him. Sliding my tongue in deep.

Jeremy groaned loudly, the sound muffled with his face in the cushions. He was waggling his butt, trying to get my tongue inside him. Feeling the burn of my stubble. God. We were locked in a moment, as raw as ever a moment was. A perfect slur of wet and taste and heat and scent and hair. Rushing together, swirling like we were in a dream world. GOD this man made me horny.

Jeremy broke the mood, "Dude," he breathed out hoarsely, "Are you hard enough to fuck me some more? God I need your cock."

I was. Fuck. Even just having shot into him, I was hard enough to cut diamonds.

I shifted positions, moving around, lying with my hairy chest against his back. Sliding into him. "MMMMUUUUOOOOOOO," he moaned below me. His whole body shuddering. No resistance, his pucker was desperate for my cock. I slid in. GAAAAWWD. That feel, that dick-crushing feel of him. Tighter than any cunt. Tighter than anything. I could feel his ass grip my cock, massaging. Squeezing. Playing with me. I was bucking into him, tight and deliberate. No hammer strokes. We didn't need them. Just the raw feel of dick and ass. Lubricated by 10 gallons of cum inside him. FUCK. The feel of our shared sweat as I slid on him. Making us so slick, my chest hair slid across him without resistance as I rocked forward and back. My face tightly pressed behind his ear. Breathing him in. Hot sweaty male. The smell of balls, ass and cum filling the room... tingling my nose, too. We ground together, a slow-dance fuck. Raw and intimate. The fucking tightness of his ass. The throb of my dick. Mouthing him, mouthing his sweaty skin. So fucking tight. He turned his head, trying to raise his lips to mine. Finding. Slurred together. Tight. Making out. GOD his ass. God his mouth.

I don't know how long we were like that. Lost in the drag of sloppy manflesh grinding together. I sped up and slowed down, reading him. Reading his body. The rise and fall of his moans. No words were needed between us; I had learned from being fucked by him how best to do the fucking. Twisting and torquing. Speed and slowness. Naturally. A symphony of sounds, bestial. We were fucking MEN. Real men. Men unleashed. Feeling our way through. I got close, so many times. But always held back before blastoff. Lost in the moment. Too lost to care.

But as time drifted, and his body worked mine, I could feel the fire in my balls burning to life again. I needed release. I pushed up, giving myself more leverage and fucking leaned into him, hard. More aggressively. Pumping my cock deep, Hard. Hard. I hadn't realized how far gone I was. In the end, it only took the barest of strokes before I exploded. Far harder than I would have thought. Hard, like I was been ripped apart. A wailing, echoing scream and I was done.

My mind cleared God knows how long later. Jeremy and I were in each other's arms, pressed closely. I started making out with him, and dimly realized his entire midriff was wet. Drenched. And sticky. I looked down, then at him, curiously. "Yeah, you got me to cum as you fucked me... I think more than once."

"Shit man," I laughed, exhaustedly. "I think I need a drink. You?"

"Shit, yeah. Make it strong, and make it neat."

By this time, the ball game—ostensibly, the reason Jeremy was over here in the first place—had started on the TV, so I grabbed the bottle and a couple of glasses, and we dragged ourselves back onto the couch to watch. After a few rounds of messy, sweaty fun, we were kinda in rough shape, but didn't really give a fuck. The dried cum in our chest hair and crotches was a badge of honor.

It was funny how effortlessly we pivoted to shooting the shit and cheering on the boys. It reminded me again of how much I loved hanging out with Jeremy. Even without the mind-blowing sex, it was just... fun. And made me reflect on my best bud and the strange road of his life. He came from a blue collar, manly-man world, was raised by a manly-man guy, and to most casual observers was the living embodiment of... a manly-man life. Rough and tumble, strong, used to working with his hands. Physical.

But I knew him better.

Deep inside, there was still a quiet, curious boy... who despite everything looked at the world with a sense of adventure. A boy's sense of wonder. Strong and silent for the most part, he still had deep feelings that came from being an outsider looking in. Still waters ran deep. He thought about things, and was... interesting to talk to. In a way my other buds hadn't really been. I quietly marveled at his hidden depths, which always surprised me. Once you got him talking, especially with a couple of drinks, he was an animated conversationalist. Even an aggressive conversationalist. You had to keep up.

But that all melted away in moments like this, when we were just plain... guys. We weren't... flirting with each other, although sex was not far from our minds. At least not flirting the way guys did with women. We were... physical. In each other's business. An ongoing dance of... you know, the light back-of-the-hand whaps, the mock pushes off each other, theatrical punches to the arms. Plus, the hearty, loud banter laden with smart-ass quips. The chortling laughter. Buds.

I mean, we just got each other.

The game wasn't a particularly good one, and as our shared whiskey went to work, we were more in each other's faces. The playful touches lasted... longer. There was a point I realized he had his hand, lightly gripping my shoulder, and I was running my hand along his hairy forearm. Our conversation died away. I could feel his hairy leg slide against mine.

I set my drink down. The banter turned... laughing. Gently laughing.

I don't know that I remember even what we were saying, as I moved in. It didn't matter. There was just that... music of his baritone voice. Almost mocking me. Laughter. I leaned in, cupping the back of his head, my fingers sliding through his mussed hair. Laughter. The heat of him. The feel of his skin.

I leaned in and kissed him. Well, almost kissed him. Sliding my puckered lips against his, sliding some... then lightly biting him.

That got his attention.

He gripped me tight, his arm wrapped around my neck, and pulled me in. It was a kiss, just for a second, before it degenerated into more a... oral maul.

Oh yeah, my man's juices were definitely flowing again.

Fuck, he was a good kisser. It was all the passion of a hard fuck, just focused elsewhere. God, the feel of him. That friction of our chest hair, ground together. The harshness of his calloused hands gripping me. I responded in kind, fighting back as only another guy could. Rising to his challenge.

A hard, and sloppy collision of men.

In the end, he surprised me by lifting me up, in a mock parody of carrying me over the threshold. He carried me, hefty guy that I am, and lay me down on my rumpled bed. Like it was our fucking wedding night. Maybe, in some ways, it was. He pinned me, his arms over my head, and made out with me. And when he was good and ready, and both of us were seething with hormonal fire...

...he fucked the everlasting shit out of me.

No pausing.

No holding back.

No compunctions about anything.

Like we were drunk at a death metal concert, with all the violent collisions of distorted guitars, thunderous percussion, car-crash tempos, and guttural vocals. And the harsh fucking physicality of guys slamming into each other.

It was raw, unrelenting fucking, until I swear every muscle in my body was screaming.

It still wasn't enough. Not for me. Never enough.

But it was... strange. In time, the fuck was still going strong, but our fire...had... burned away everything. Burned away all the bullshit. Quieting. Focusing. And as the fucked-up carnival ride of our fucking slowed... everything somehow, impossibly, seemed to build in emotional intensity. Build to this... moment. This perfect moment.

A moment beautiful and terrible in its power.

I have a hazy memory of me on my side, with Jeremy gloriously drilling me from behind. His hands. Everywhere. His dick, roaring and grinding inside me. His mouth, everywhere. His hairy balls grinding against mine. His growls ringing in my ears. And FUCK! ...the fire inside me, the... the sensations outside me... All together. It was a moment of pure adrenaline, wrapped in power, and light...

...and so much more. Something...

Something bigger. Something bigger than even the two of us together.

It's odd. I often thought of our sex as like... guys coming together and being guys. Aggression. Action. Rivalry. Physicality. Like the ultimate game of one-on-one, or a prize-winning duel in The Octagon, where we're going to finally settle something like men, once and for all.

But right then, right at that moment, it was... more than that. So, so fucking much more. Wrapped around all that physicality was... emotion. Hundreds of emotions. Men's emotions. Honest and true. All together. All at once.

Despite us pawing at each other, it wasn't combative, but rather...

...Shit, I can't even describe it.

It was like... we found... unity.

Rather, it was like the time I went white-water rafting in a 2-man raft a few years ago. Pure physicality. Pure adrenaline. Pure power. Pure triumph. But... working for it. Together. Sharing it. Sharing the exhilaration with the other guy in the raft. That feeling of triumph, of conquering the world... right alongside one lucky bastard who was there with you through the thick of it, and was the only guy who could possibly understand.

Finally... I think I understood.

And for the first time since Jeremy and I started getting together, I... gave myself to him. Surrendered. Entirely. Body and spirit. And we rode the rapids together.

God. The moment flooded over me. Through me. I never had a moment like that in my entire life. It startled me. And if I'm being honest, it almost scared me.

And I held onto that moment as hard as I fucking could.

After he finally came, Jeremy stayed inside me, still flexing, rutting against me. Unable to let the moment go. I think he felt it, too. He was holding me, just... holding me. Together as one. Our heat as one. Our hearts pounding as one. Skin on skin. Sweat and cum swirled together. I was drifting, barely conscious, and in that dream-like moment I swear I could almost hear him murmuring, again and again: "You're so fucking amazing, you're so fucking amazing, you're so fucking amazing, you're–" An unbroken mantra. Until I could hear—feel—his breathing quietly become still and steady. Steady against my skin. As the big guy drifted into dreamless sleep. Still inside. Never releasing me from his manly grip.

The oddest thought crossed my mind as I finally drifted off, too: how in cuddling, I had never been the small spoon before. Always the big one...

We barely got going in the morning... it fucking sucked that it was still a work day and I was somehow supposed to be productive. God, we were still stupid-sloppy with each other, and it was only through superhuman force that I got Jeremy out the door so I could throw the well-used bedding into the wash and shower up before work.

My wife returned that evening, none the wiser. Funny—she was still feeling frisky from our previous round of phone sex and was definitely up for more. I demurred somewhat; I declared that in honor of her big presentation, tonight I was just gonna be there for her. Left unsaid was the fact that after last night, I doubt I could have gotten it up for all the money in the world.

Jeremy and I were now fully in synch. Fortunately, we were able to fall into a more regular rhythm of get-togethers, to our ongoing delight. We rarely got all the time we hoped for, but about every couple of weeks or so we met on the side and went ape-shit on each other. Often, we just had time for a blow-and-go or something quick. But when we did find the time? Damn. I'm surprised our poor, benighted furniture survived. There was always the same desperate intensity, the same primal fire each time. Like a pair of Grizzly Bears grappling to the death. But underneath all that, there was an even stronger, steely undercurrent of emotion. Even if, in stereotypical male fashion, we never really spoke of it.

The weird thing is that the women in our lives never caught on, and sometimes actively encouraged us to meet up and "let loose."

Oh, the irony.

In some ways, fucking around with Jeremy helped our relationships. It sounds counterintuitive, but it let us blow off some steam and recharge our batteries. We ended up being more focused in our lives, and more attentive, appreciative, and connected to our girls.

Or maybe that's just me rationalizing.

But of course, nothing stays the same, even if you want it to. Jeremy did indeed move up the ladder at work, and ultimately he and Stacey moved into a much better place... together. That made our ongoing visits even trickier to schedule, and we both felt the burning frustration of not getting our rocks off regularly.

But it was more than that. Jeremy wasn't just a great fuck... he was my best friend.

I'm not gonna lie—feeling that distance grow between us... well, it got to me. And the shitty thing about it, is there was no way to vent about it. Not to anyone.

We still got together when we could, but life, work, and demands of the womenfolk often intervened. Sometimes, time together just didn't work out. And sure enough, at one point we hit a dry stretch that ended up dragging on for six weeks.

One Saturday, I got a text. My relief to hear from him again was... immense. He said that Stacey would be out for most of the morning, and he really wanted to see me, if it was at all possible. Was I game?

Shit. I got so hard, so fast, I about ripped a hole in my gym shorts. I made up an excuse to my wife on the fly as I ran out the door—I'm not even sure if it was plausible—and tore down the highway to get to his place.

"Hey man!" I shouted as he opened the door. I caught him up in the biggest, most effusive bear hug I've ever given. Feeling the pummel as he slapped me on my back. Breathing his dusky scent in. Fuck. I was home.

After a beat, he untangled himself and stepped back. "Hey man, before we... well, before things get... I mean, just to be clear..."

"What?" I asked, not liking this change in his usual form of greeting one bit.

"Well, I just... There's something I gotta say. To tell you. Just... um, listen up for a second. You see...? It's that I... well, really we... okay, I mean like Stacey, really, but you know... us..."

"Would you just say it?" I said levelly.

"We're... I'm... gonna have a baby. Stacey's... pregnant."

Ooof. I froze. Thinking. Not helping. I took a few steps, trying to clear my mind.

Shit. Shit. I mean, of course I should have realized something like this could happen. Likely would happen. But... shit. I just...

Then I turned and looked at Jeremy. Seeing him. Seeing him like no one ever did. Seeing... a guy... I...

I shook myself. And swallowed hard. Not fair to him. I took a deep breath. "Oh, shit man, sorry... my bad. You just totally caught me off guard. Of course that's great news! Congratulations! How long have you known?"

Jeremy visibly relaxed. "It's been a few weeks. We haven't told people yet... well, just Stacey's mom. It's still too early, and things can easily go wrong..."

"Dude," I said warmly. As warmly as I could. "This is great news. I'm happy for you. Both. You'll make a great dad."

Jeremy looked at me, sharply. With a... haunted expression. "God, I hope so. I fucking hope so. What if... shit, what if I'm like my dad? What if I totally fuck my kid up? Leave him a twisted, broken chickenshit on the floor, like my old man left me?"

"Jesus, dude... no! Fucking NO. You are nothing like your dad. Nothing! And besides, you've seen how a parent can fuck up their kid. You know what it's like! You saw how he did it! And you've broken the fucking cycle. I don't know much, but I know that's not going to happen. I have way more confidence in your skills as a dad, knowing everything you've learned, than I have with just about anyone else's. That kid is fucking lucky to have you. Jesus, that kid is going to be a fucking champion!"

Jeremy smiled, and looked down. There was a long, long silence. "Thanks man, he whispered. "Thanks for saying this. Thanks for thinking this. All of this. I was... I was freaked out about... how you might react."

Shit. I stepped over to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and moved him over to his couch. Sitting down with him. "Yeah. I'm not gonna lie, it... threw me. But I'm serious: this is great news. I get it, totally. To be honest, Liv is anxious to start a family too. We've been... you know, trying. And I wasn't sure how to tell you, either."

"I don't want things to change between us."

I gave him a knowing, but benevolent look. "I think things will change for us, cowboy."

"Yeah, but... not entirely. Not all together." There was another pause, as he finally started getting to what was really on his mind. "Trevor. You're... fuck. You're one of the most important people in my life. I fucking love you, man. Maybe not the same way I love Stacey, but just as strong. Maybe stronger. I can't lose you. Lose what we have going. It would fucking wreck me."

God, this guy always knew how to bring me to my knees. I'm not a crier, but there are times in a man's life...

"Jeremy," I choked out, emotion catching my throat. "I love you too. And don't you worry your pretty fucking head. You'll need to take care of business, but I will always be there for you. Be there if it's at work, on the bike trail, a fucking PTA meeting..." Here, I leaned in, conspiratorially. "And especially in the bedroom. Or the kitchen floor. Or a fucking quickie in the park!" He smiled, that fucking smile of his. "Buddy, you've most definitely got me by the balls..."

Jeremy gave me a knowing leer... but to my surprise, he didn't immediately take the bait. He paused, looking at me.

He had one more thing to say.

"Trevor, there's something else I have to ask. I wasn't at all sure how this conversation would go, and I was only going to go there if I thought... if I hoped... Shit. Trevor... will you be the kid's godfather?"

I was thunderstruck. "Uh, me?" I babbled. "Don't you need to be someone with... you know, morals and good standing? That rules me out!"

Jeremy gave me A Look. "Dude. Shut up. There is no one I'd rather have helping to raise my kid, and I'd take your morals any day of the week. But there's... more to it. We've always been, well... kinda like family. Right?"

"Almost like family," responded with a snarky grin.

"But see, this way, we can make it real. Like... more official. We really would be family. Legit."

The quiet thunder of his words flattened me. Family. Family with a guy I loved.

I couldn't speak in that moment if I tried, so I merely nodded. It was enough. Our trickle of tears became a flood, as we fell into each other's arms. Ugly crying.

God, I loved him.

Finally, Jeremy pushed back. A different look in his eyes.

"Okay Trevor, enough of this bullshit. If you're not naked by the time I count to three..."

"Way ahead of you," I cut him off. And my pants hit the floor.

I was ready. Ready for everything.

Everything.

END

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