Anthology

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places and events is unintentional. Please enjoy in safe and legal manner.

ANTHOLOGY

You are travelling into an alternate dimension. Do not adjust your connection to reality. Here we find a universe of infinitive possibilities, of extraordinary powers and incredible circumstances. Welcome to the Anthology...

Anthology (I) - It's a Wonderlust Life

A man stands on a bridge. In one direction is the life behind him and in the other is the life ahead. However, George is looking in neither of these directions for he is looking over the side and is getting ready to jump. "I'm at the end of my rope," mutters George. What could make a man feel that way? What could persuade him to walk back to the life he left... or forward to something new?

TO SAVE A LIFE

FRIDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2019

George could barely see the man splashing in the dark but he heard the voice shouting "help," over and over. Eventually, his eyes adjusted and the edges of darkness slid against each other until he could tell things apart - a man was in the water and he was drowning.

George had intended to sink rather than swim but he couldn't leave the man to drown, so George jumped in feet first, swam towards the sound of "help," and pulled him to the shore. The current of the river was stronger than George had expected and it carried them downstream a little but luckily it also pushed them towards the embankment where they now sat side by side.

Sopping wet. Cold.

"You were on the bridge. Why were you up there, were you going to jump?" asked the stranger.

"I... I got real low," George trembled.

George was trembling not only from the wet and the cold but also from the feeling that had taken him to the bridge in the first place.

"You certainly did," remarked the strange man looking up at the bridge towering over them.

It was a long way up (and down, obviously).

It struck George as strange: not only that the man would be so blasé and facetious but also that he wasn't trembling. It was cold and they had both just been in the freezing water. The man had splashed around and shouted for help because he couldn't swim and George had jumped in to save him. They were both wet and sitting on the bank of the river yet the stranger seemed quite content.

It really pissed George off.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" George asked angrily.

"I guess it was. I apologise," the stranger replied; "My name's Angelo. And you are...?"

Angelo offered a hand to shake but George stood up instead.

"I'm going," George replied.

He stood up and squelched his way up the embankment, panting by the time he got to the top; when he got there, George looked to his left and saw Angelo had effortlessly scaled the slope and was stood beside him with a smile on his face. It was after sunset five days before Christmas - the depths of winter - and here was George stood beside a man who was really starting to irritate him.

"Thank you for saving me but... Why were you really up on that bridge? Why were you going to jump?" Angelo asked.

I got real low.

George softened as the man asked him again - it was the first thing Angelo asked him when they reached the shore. When George took a second look he realised Angelo was quite handsome; tall, brown eyes, black hair and olive skin (Italian if the name and complexion were anything to go by) but his accent was regional.

"What do you care?" George replied miserably as he set off on feet that squished out water every time he stepped.

"I care because I'm your guardian angel," Angelo replied.

George laughed.

From the bank of the river, up a steep embankment and up a steep hill, the men had reached a road that would eventually lead back to town.

"You don't believe in angels?" Angelo asked.

"You sank like a stone. Aren't angels meant to be able to fly?" George asked sarcastically.

"Ah, well, I don't have my wings yet," Angelo ruminated; "Angel second class, you see."

"Sorry," George said as he cast a look at Angelo; "What I meant was, aren't angels complete bullshit?"

"Nope," Angelo responded.

If Angelo was insulted he didn't show it. He was still pissing George off. George shivered and quivered from the cold and wet - he was exhausted and weighed down with water and no matter how much George tried to pick up speed, Angelo proceeded effortlessly to keep pace.

"Angelo the guardian angel?" George asked.

Angelo smiled and nodded emphatically.

"You don't think that's a little bit on the nose?" George asked.

Angelo smiled and shrugged.

It irked George and his mood swung back from piss-taking to angry. George felt angry a lot lately. And depressed and hopeless.

"If you're an angel, why were you on that bridge?" George asked.

He didn't believe the nutter, obviously. But since he couldn't escape the man George might as well indulge him.

"I was there for you, George," Angelo responded keenly.

George stopped and turned towards Angelo - for the first time taking what the absurd man had to say seriously.

"George?" he repeated with surprise; "But I never told you my name."

Angelo just tilted his head and grinned.

"So you were on the bridge because I was there?" George clarified slowly.

"I was on the bridge because you were going to jump off it," Angelo corrected.

"I did jump off it!" George exploded; "To save your dumb ass because you were drowning."

"A minor detail," Angelo flapped his hand around dismissively.

It was a stroke of irony really. George was going to kill himself by jumping off the bridge and into the water below; his body would have floated as helpless and as hopeless as a feather. Instead, George heard a splash and then looked down to see Angelo drowning in the water. So what did he do? He jumped off the bridge into the water below.

George wasn't sure if this said more about his own misjudgement of bridge jumping as a suicide method or Angelo's misjudgement for making him jump anyway.

"Well you're the fucking guardian angel... would I have died if I'd jumped like I planned to?" George asked hostilely.

"Yes, George. You'd have hit the water head first and become concussed," Angelo replied informatively; "You'd have blacked out for a few seconds, long enough to inhale water and you'd have drowned as you were carried downstream."

"But I didn't drown," George said fatter-of-factly.

"No. You hit feet first, swam over and saved me and here we are..." Angelo said excitedly; "Hey, where the hell are we?"

Just ahead were streetlights and the beginning of civilisation. Or George's hometown, which was almost civilisation.

"Come on," George half answered. Unenthusiastically, he added; "You can come to my place."

A half smile appeared on Angelo's face. George couldn't help but notice Angelo's caramel skin and tasty lips, his sweet eyes; a great physique going by the way his wet clothes clung to him and... What the fuck was George doing? He tore his eyes away from the handsome man who obviously was not an angel and focussed on the route home.

George unlocked the door to his building and on the first floor he unlocked his own modest home. It was a two bedroom flat he shared with a philosophy enthusiast who might have won his Business degree in a competition; he worked for his dad and remained employed for the same reason. George also shared the flat with a misanthropic cat.

His flatmate was called Billy (because that's the name his mother gave him) and the cat was called Kant (because he kant stop wrecking the furniture).

George and Billy each moved into the flat during their first years at University - each to get away from home. They hadn't known each other before moving in but they mutually hated their landlord and took turns buying the milk.

Kant meowed the moment George entered the flat and when the feline saw it was George instead of Billy, it turned contemptuously on his paws and skulked away while rolling its eyes at him. The sarcastic cat paused before leaving George's sight - perhaps philosophically rationalising that George could at least make himself useful and feed him - then turned back and meowed again.

"Yea ok," George said irritably.

"Nice cat," Angelo said.

"He's kind of an asshole. He's my flatmates cat... it lets me live here," George managed to joke.

Angelo sniggered at the joke and George liked the sound of his laugh. Angelo got some curious affection from Kant while George put foot in the bowl and a few minutes later the cat was eating and George took Angelo to his bedroom.

"I'll get you a towel," George said.

"We've got water all over the floors," Angelo remarked.

"Yea, that's what happens when you jump in a river. Your clothes are soaking wet," George answered.

George kicked off his shoes and socks and dumped his jacket in the hamper by his bedroom door and then left the room to get a towel from the bathroom. When George walked back into his room, Angelo was half undressed.

Angelo was stunning - his skin was light brown and his physique comparable to a Greek sculpture. Angelo was topless which revealed a small nest black hair in the centre of his chest that descended down to a treasure trail that disappeared into his underwear.

Angelo had already peeled off his shoes and socks and without even noticing George was watching him, unbuttoned his trousers and dropped them to his ankles. Would Angelo drop his boxers too? George was single and the prospect of seeing more of the gorgeous angel was tempting but felt wrong so he announced his arrival.

"Angelo. Take this to dry off," George offered Angelo the towel.

George realised he's caught himself thinking of Angelo as a real angel, but only for a second. He decided to test Angelo's delusion while undressing himself.

"So you're a guardian angel who doesn't have his wings yet?" George asked doubtfully.

George was nearly stripped himself before remembering he was wearing briefs - and the water had been cold. He was embarrassed by the downstairs shrinkage but if Angelo noticed, he didn't show it.

"That's right. To get them, I have a mission: to save a life. To save your life," Angelo answered.

Angelo shamelessly dropped his underwear, stepped out of them and then proceeded to dry his hair with the only towel in his hand. George could not help but look at the perfect penis dangling between Angelo's legs - dark hair above it and furry balls beneath it. His thighs parted just enough to make a welcome invitation to cock-hungry men. George tore his eyes away from the penis and testes of the stranger and focused on his own wetness.

Angelo had moved the towel from his head to his hip and looked at George expectantly. George tried to remember what Angelo had just said while he was looking at the angle's cock. Something about a mission to save his life.

"I'm alive, aren't I? So why haven't you gone Tinkerbelle yet?" George asked as he tied a towel around his waist to cover his groin.

"Because I haven't saved your life yet," Angelo responded softly.

Angelo's big brown eyes were kind and filled with understanding. Angelo tied his towel around his waist too and approached George how kept his eyes downcast with shame.

"You know I don't believe in this crap, right?" George muttered - hoping, but doubting,

"It's ok," said Angelo gently, putting his hands on George's biceps.

Angelo's compassion was crushing and invasive and made George irrationally angry.

"What would you know about it?" George spat.

George had been single for over a year and his ex- was an asshole who'd turned stalker; he'd been interviewed for a promotion at work and was likely to be overlooked in favour of his less qualified colleague who happened to be his boss's son; he'd lived with a life of criticism from his parents, his mum in particular, and tonight her disapproval had been the final straw. He'd been thinking about that bridge for nearly a year when, after work and then dinner with his parents he'd gone to end it all.

"About why you were on that bridge contemplating the long way down?" Angelo asked; "I know everything. But why don't you tell me anyway?"

George felt weary as he thought about it - why was he even thinking about telling this stranger about his problems? George's eyes were still closed when he felt the gentle nudge of Angelo tapping his forehead and he toppled back into his memories.

DINNER INTERRUPTED

FOURTEEN MONTHS EARLIER

OCTOBER 2018

George was lying on his back and wearing black briefs - well almost wearing them, they'd been pulled down to expose his buttocks. The rest of his clothes were somewhere on the floor, mingling with those of Henry, his boyfriend. They'd been out to a Halloween party, dressed as Fred Flintstone and a sexy pirate, but left early when Henry got horny and frisky.

George would have liked to be on top - they talked about it but it rarely happened - but Henry took charge and once clothes were discarded, George was pushed face first onto the bed in just his underwear. George had been dating Henry for three years and he was the fest fucker George had ever had; in that respect, George had no complaints about always being bottom.

Henry had pushed George's face into the mattress and pulled his underwear down, hitching them under his buttocks. George felt Henry's hard cock pressing against his buttocks, still contained within his tight boxer briefs - but not for long.

"Get on the bed, doggy," Henry told him.

George scrambled obediently onto the bed, on all fours, and Henry reached under him to tug the front of his underwear down. George's dick popped out and Henry pulled the underwear down to George's knees.

Henry slapped George's ass, making him yelp and making Henry laugh. Henry gave another slap of George's ass and they both got hard at the fleshy sound of contact. George's ass stung but in a good way. A few more swats and George's cock was hard and his ass was red.

Henry rubbed it soothingly, grabbing a fistful of glutes, and then kissed the excited red globes.

"I love your ass, George," said Henry.

"I love your everything," George replied.

"Just for that you get another spank," Henry teased.

He swatted George again but not too hard.

"Lift your knees," Henry instructed.

George lifted his knees one at a time until his underwear were removed from each leg and tossed away but he remained on all fours with his tail pointed towards Henry.

Henry knelt on the bed behind George, who remained on all fours, and began to hump his ass. Henry still had his underwear on but he was otherwise undressed - Henry's frottage was but a prelude to penetration.

Henry's thick and meaty cock firmed up inside his underwear as he rubbed and humped George's bare ass. Henry reached around and started to stroke George's cock while still humping away. George was starting to leak pre-cum and the sloppy sound of Henry's fist around cock meat was making them both horny.

Henry finally tugged the front of his underwear down and rubbed his erection up and down George's ass crack. Then Henry grabbed George's hair and pulled his head back; George turned to offer his lips which Henry seized on with a passionate tongue.

Henry let go and he pushed George down onto the bed, his chest pressing into the mattress while his ass thrust up in the air even higher. At last, Henry pulled his underwear down and off - releasing his cock and taking them a step closer to sex.

Henry had a glorious physique that he was rather vain about. George didn't mind the boasting because Henry had the physique of an athlete and a seven and a half inch cock that pounded him in just the right spot.

George could have done without the criticism of his less glorious build, but he ignored that for the same reason. "It's just a bit of fun, can't you take a joke?" Henry admonished when George had complained about being called "puny".

George wasn't puny anyway, though his arms were less muscular and his chest and abs left defined. His legs were magnificent and even Henry acknowledged them, though mostly for their ability to squat over his rigid pole during more adventurous sexual positions.

"Fuck the mattress like it's me on your birthday," Henry said with a smirk; "I'll get a rubber on."

While Henry got wrapped and lubricated, George pumped his hard cock into the mattress. The sheets were fresh and soft and slid against the exposed head of his cock. The shaft glided over the sheets and George alternated between hard and gentle strokes in order to vary the sensations against his dick.

Silvery snail trail streaks of pre-cum smudged the sheets while George fucked the mattress until Henry was ready to fuck him. Once Henry was wrapped and lubricated, he put his hand on the nape of George's neck, squeezing it with playful aggression.

"Are you ready for me to fuck you?" Henry asked.

"Yes," George replied.

"Turn over, let me look at you," Henry demanded.

Henry let go of George's neck so he could flip over, his nakedness exposed in the privacy of his bedroom yet George felt scrutinised by Henry's gaze. Henry's hard, toned and arrogantly sculpted body met George's average physique; Henry grabbed George's fleshy pectoral and squeezed it playfully. Then Henry pinched George's nipple before sliding his hand down George's shaved chest and stomach. Henry pulled George's dick, jerking it a few times as he shuffled down the bed.

"Pull your knees up," Henry ordered.

George bent his knees and parted his legs to fully expose his asshole. It was ringed by feathery dark hair that started at George's scrotum, spread over his perineum and surrounded the muscular anal ring.

Henry put his index finger in his mouth and slicked it with spit and then pushed it into George's ass. George had prepared himself earlier in the day so his arse was clean, the sphincter dilating as the finger entered and then squeezing around the digit. A second finger joined the invasion, twisting and massaging the entrance of George's hole.

George moaned and grabbed his cock, jerking it for himself - he really wanted to wank Henry's dick but it was out of reach. George felt Henry's big dick replace the fingers and he trembled at the impending thrust.

George grabbed a pillow because Henry liked to go hard and deep and although Billy - George's roommate - never complained, George was aware of the noises he made when he got going. The head of Henry's cock pressed slowly until the sphincter parted and the length of the shaft also began to slide in.

Henry pulled back and pushed in deeper, then out and in deeper again; George could hear the slapping noise as his butt cheeks met Henry's thighs while Henry gripped George's knees to steady his thrusts.

As the speed and rhythm built up, George knew what Henry was going to do. Henry thrust in deep and hard, pounding George's hole so he had to bite his pillow to suppress his cries. George moaned as the hard fucking continued and he got into the rhythm of Henry's pushing and pulling.

"Fucking hell, I love your tight ass," Henry complimented.

George lapped up the praise and concentrated on tightening his sphincter around Henry's plunging cock. George loved the sensation of contraction around his cock and paused at the deepest part of his thrust to enjoy the feeling. Henry was taller than George with dark hair scattered across his chest and legs, dark eyes and the hair on his head that was short at the back and sides. In contrast, George was fair - with ginger-blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin. The hair on his arms, legs and chest (which today was freshly shaved) was almost invisible against his white skin which was marked by a scatter of freckles across the back of his shoulders.

Henry pulled put completely so he could grab George's ankles. George knew what Henry wanted and began to raise his legs until they were straight and raised in the air. Henry rested George's calves on his shoulders and held his cock steady as he eased into his lover's hole again.

Henry had a swimmers build and as he was a personal trainer, he was obsessed with calories, protein and exercise. In comparison, George had an under-used gym membership but enough disposable income to eat healthily and buy organic. It helped that Henry pushed George physically, building on an average physique that was only average in comparison to Henry.

Henry's seven and a half inch cock resumed its rhythmic stabbing of George's ass and he entertained himself by gripping George's ankles again while fucking with determined plunges.

George reached for his cock again, which began to release a steady stream of clear ooze; a little shot of cum leaked like piss from his George's cock, letting him know he was close to cumming and would ejaculate too early if he wasn't cautious.

Henry's ass fucking was almost too much and again George moaned until he had to clamp his hands over his mouth to stop from getting obscenely loud. He could taste his own pre-cum and dick sweat on his palm and licked it off his hand - much to Henry's delight.

Henry watched George cover his mouth and gazed into the concave under his lover's arms. Henry loved the exposed pits and leaned over George while deep inside so he could sweep his fingers through the damp pits. Henry pressed his fingers into George's mouth - feeding George a combination of pit-sweat, pre-cum, lube and ass.

Henry was getting tired and very close to cumming but he gripped George's bicep; Henry's big hands wrapped around George's upper arm - his fingers almost able to meet his thumb. With Henry inside and leaning over George, their chests met and Henry could feel the pulsing erection of his lover underneath him. He'd have loved to just lie on top of George and hump him like he'd watched George hump the mattress. However, fucking his boyfriend was even better and Henry held George down for a few more pumps of the ass and then let go, easing himself up again.

"Jerk your cock for me," Henry demanded.

Henry usually got his way and George liked to make him happy so he complied; besides, it was cumming time and George's balls were ready to burst from the prostate stimulation and anal excitement. Henry rather enjoyed watching George masturbate - especially while he was deep inside. George gripped his dick, which was over half an inch smaller than Henry's, and began to stroke it.

"Oh fuck, yea," Henry encouraged.

George's legs were back down on either side of Henry, his feet flat and his knees bent at forty-five degrees. Henry took a hold of George's thighs and used them to steady himself while thrusting faster and deeper. Henry came first, spilling his seed inside the condom covering his cock. Henry liked the warm spread of sperm that coated the head of his dick until he withdrew to take the condom off.

Henry was too exhausted to continue and pulled put so he could concentrate on watching George self-pleasure himself.

"Keep going," Henry demanded.

With a self-satisfied grin, Henry removed the condom and he dumped the contents on George's chest and abdomen, the sloppy stuff inside mingling with sweat and dripping off onto the sheets beneath. Henry leaned over and put his hand over George's cock so he could take control; his lips touched the head of George's dick, licking and then sucking the knob.

George knew he was going to cum at any moment, especially as Henry started to give him a blowjob. The blow didn't last long because Henry had other ideas.

"I'm gonna make you shoot," Henry told George once there wasn't a cock in it.

Henry once again moved between George's legs put his face in George's perineum. His nose sniffed and snorted against the shaft of George's cock while his tongue lapped across George's balls and perineum. Henry's tongue inches towards the sweet spot between the balls and the ass and then, lifting George's legs again, the tongue set about rimming his lover.

"Oh fuck! Fucking hell," George exclaimed.

In his final act, Henry drew his tongue all the way from George's ass, over his balls and up to the shaft. Henry's tongue flashed repeatedly over the frenulum until George finally sprayed cum into the air.

Henry pushed George's cock into a new trajectory - the first spurt of cum having shot up his nose - and subsequent squirts of spunk shot over George's milky body. George and Henry's jizz mixed into a single marsh of sludge, congealing and dribbling and filling the air with sexual odour.

George's breath was hot and laboured and his heart racing after firing hot and sticky goo. Never one to let sperm go to waste, Henry leaned over and sucked George's cock until pleasure and pain of over-stimulation became indistinguishable. The cum-coated shaft slid in and out of Henry's mouth, his tight lips pouting once the sweet seed was gone.

Henry ran his hand over George's chest, scooping up a mix of spunks and sweat, then delivered his hand to George's face. His big hand smeared and slathered the ejaculate muck all over George's face and a second scoop found Henry pushing his fingers into George's mouth.

George licked the fingers and when they were clean, Henry wiped the spit-slick fingers in George's hair. Finally sated, Henry hopped off the bed and found a towel to wipe his sweaty chest, groin and underarms. He tossed the towel to George next and he used it to wipe most of the spunk from his own chest.

George moved over and Henry lay beside him.

"You really are a good fuck," Henry said.

"I also make a good soufflé," George replied.

Henry chuckled and rolled onto his back - he put his hands behind his head and lay back; enjoying the blissful obliteration of his thoughts. George lay beside him and kissed his cheek and they both drowsed in the fug of post-intercourse. They didn't sleep, the just checked their eyelids for holes while the excitement abated.

A while later Henry nudged George playfully.

"That was great," Henry said.

George turned to look at his boyfriend and kissed him, which was the best form of agreement.

"I was thinking we could go out for dinner tomorrow," Henry said.

"Oh, sorry," George replied quietly; "I promised mum and dad I'd go to them for Sunday dinner tomorrow."

"I could come?" Henry suggested.

George didn't reply right away - this had all the hallmarks of an argument and they'd just had such a good time. Fucking was always good with Henry but relationships should be about more than that. George was a happy gay man but his parents would not approve, so he hadn't told them. Henry was unhappy with this decision and had tried, multiple times, to pressure George into telling his parents he was dating a man. However, this was one of the few places where George stood his ground.

"You could," George agreed; "But you don't want to be introduced as my friend."

"Of course I don't... because we're not just friends, I'm your boyfriend," Henry said.

"I know you are," George agreed.

"We're been dating for three years," Henry added.

"I haven't forgotten," George said.

"Then why..."

Henry usually got his way but not always.

"Because I don't want to fucking come out," George interrupted before Henry could make his case. Again.

The same case he made last time and the five times before that.

"I do not want to tell my parents I'm gay, ok?" George said very clearly.

Henry pulled back from the closeness they had been enjoying and sat up, barely looking at George.

"No, it's not really ok," Henry said; "I've been really patient, George. But it's time you were honest."

"I am honest," George replied.

"I mean with your happy clappy parents," Henry said disdainfully.

George huffed - not because he was religious himself, because he wasn't, but he was conditioned to be offended on their behalf. He had spent his childhood under intense doctrine that made clear his homosexuality wouldn't be accepted. For that reason alone, George refused to tell them about his boyfriends - not even the man he'd been dating for three years.

"I don't have to come out, Henry. I don't owe it to them," George said hotly.

"No, you owe it to me," Henry answered; "Your parents are important to you. If I'm going to be a part of your life, you'll need to introduce me eventually."

"I am not coming out to them," George said forcefully.

It surprised Henry - who was used to getting his way and wasn't used to George standing up for himself. He found it sexy in a way and looked at George - who was still naked and uncovered - with sexy eyes. The feeling didn't last - it was overridden by disgust and pity.

"Don't be so spineless, George..." spat Henry.

"In that case, you take no for an answer," George retaliated. "I've said no. I get to choose if and when I come out to my parents, not you."

Denied three times, Henry pulled on his jeans and grabbed his shirt.

"You're such a fucking coward," said Henry as he stormed out the bedroom.

A few minutes later, the door to the flat slammed.

George sat feeling quite miserable in his room - he and Henry argued from time to time but the biggest problem was that Henry wanted to be in charge. Henry was used to getting his own way, he was used to taking over George's life and it was a long time since Henry had been told "no".

George sat naked for a while, though he was starting to get cold. His cock was still plum from sex and his the remnants of cum were tacky to touch and his ass remained dilated from Henry's cock - not long ago they had been having sex and now Henry was storming off and George felt foolish and alone.

George pulled on shorts and a t-shirt and emerged from his bedroom. His flatmate, Billy, saw him shuffling awkwardly and he'd clearly heard the argument. Billy was wearing pyjama bottoms that showed off a cute little arse and a vest that displayed stringy arms and a furry chest. Billy was a good guy - honest and decent but eccentric and gawky. George and Billy had lived together for six years - they hadn't known each other before moving in but they hosted a flat-warming party before mutually agreeing loud and busy parties in their flat wasn't their thing. They hadn't had one since, which suited them both fine.

George had moved out of his family home because his parents were suffocating, he couldn't come out to them and he wanted some freedom - also, boyfriends. Billy had moved out of the family home because his dad thought it would teach him the art of husbandry (in the archaic sense of the word - the care of a household).

"Are you alright, George?" asked Billy.

"Fine," George lied.

"I made you tea," Billy said, not making eye contact.

Billy was the sort who thought tea fixed most things.

"Thanks Billy," replied George.

George took the proffered cuppa and drank a few sips - immediately feeling a little bit better. George sat on the sofa in the living room - his long, fair-skinned, fluffy legs propped up on the coffee table. Billy checked them out - he'd spent years checking George out, silently cultivating feelings for his flatmate. He might have acted on them except every time he worked up the courage, George found a boyfriend.

"I think I've fucked it with Henry," said George.

"He's asking too much of you," Billy replied.

George had talked to Billy about the problem the last time he and Henry had discussed it; that time had not been so heated but the disagreement has still resulted in Henry storming off. Henry didn't like it when he didn't get his way.

"You don't want to come out 'cause you don't think your parents will accept you. They're a big part of your life and Henry wants to be a part of your life too..." Billy said; "But he can't be if your parents reject you when you come out and your life falls apart. Billy should listen to your fears instead of thinking about himself and what he wants."

Billy was of the opinion that Henry was too controlling and worried about George - but he couldn't voice his opinion without sounding jealous.

"See, you get it. Why can't Henry?" George asked.

Things must have been bad because Kant arrived and purred at George, leaping into his lap and curling up - allowing George to stroke him for a while.

"Be honest, what do you think, Billy? I love my mum and dad, even though I don't think their beliefs would be compatible with me having sex with men. But Henry and I have been together for three years," George reasoned; "Is it me whose being unreasonable?"

Billy blushed - George and Henry might have been dating for three years but they had lived together for six years. Had George never noticed... how much Billy blushed? Billy was embarrassed that he hadn't had the courage to talk to George so sympathised with the fear George felt. The "what if" question; what if George doesn't feel the same way/ what if my parents don't accept me?

"It's not about reasonable. It's about Henry not listening to you and not respecting your feelings," Billy said.

"I don't mind that he likes to take charge," George said - an understated acknowledgement of how much Henry dominated their relationship. "But I don't want him telling me how to cope with my parents but I don't want to lose him either."

"You know, Nietzsche said," Billy began; "One must first be firmly set in oneself, one must stand securely on one's own two legs otherwise one cannot love at all."

George contemplated this - was it his fear of being single that kept him with Henry despite the obvious problems? He felt like he was already quite independent yet Billy had a point - Henry was controlling.

"How many times have you told him you're not ready to tell your parents?" Billy asked rhetorically; "He doesn't listen to you."

"You listen to me," George said absently.

Billy wished George knew how much that meant to him. George sighed heavily and Kant looked at him, huffed and leaped onto the floor. George stood up and passed Billy on the way to his room.

"Thanks for talking to me, Billy," George expressed; "And for the tea."

The next night, George arrived at his parents for dinner. They criticised him for being late but said nothing when his brother arrived ten minutes later. George was well used to their pass remarkable nature and learned to live with internalising his resentment about it.

"We have a list of names but nothing is decided yet," said Harry during dinner.

Harry was George's big brother, a station manager in the fire service, and his wife (Mary) had come down with a case of twins. Harry's interest in fire had nearly killed him when he was twelve and George was ten when a fire had broken out in school outbuilding; it was after school and they were playing on the football pitch when Harry had seen the smoke.

Running to the rescue, he insisted they check no-one was trapped. George begged Harry not to go, but he did, and George followed. Good thing too because part of the ceiling collapsed and knocked Harry out - George dragged him free but if he hadn't been there...

Afterwards, the firemen told Harry that being brave is great but they were safely equipment because fire is unsafe. Harry never made such a foolhardy error again.

"Do we get to approve these names?" his mother asked.

"Of course not. It's out baby, not yours mother," Harry replied.

Harry got away with saying things George never would but even this was a bit far. Mum pursed her lips and was about to respond when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," said dad and left the boys with their mum.

"They have a bunch of nice names mum, don't worry," George reassured her.

Harry nodded gratefully with a mouthful of broccoli in his mouth.

"And what business of it is yours?" mum asked; "Why have you seen the list and not me?"

George was getting the blame for seeing his brother's baby names!

"We were having lunch together and Harry asked if I thought the name Satan was nice," George replied.

Harry burst out laughing, choking on his final morsel of food.

"Very funny. Maybe instead of jokes you could get a wife of your own?" mum said testily, though there was the ghost of a smile.

Harry laughed harder - he knew George was gay and agreed mum and dad were better off not knowing. Harry was about to jump back into the conversation when dad came back into the room.

"You didn't tell us you were bringing a friend," dad said to George; "We'd have waited if we'd known."

George had time to look confused before Henry walked into the room behind dad and smirked. Dinner interrupted, George's confusion turned into an expression somewhere between anger and supplication - he knew what Henry was about to do and there was no stopping it now. He tried anyway.

"Henry, please don't," George beseeched.

"Actually, I'm not a friend," Henry said; "I'm his boyfriend."

George cringed and Harry looked like he wanted to punch Henry; George's parents both looked shocked and then humiliated.

"You... don't be ridiculous," his dad said.

"We've been dating for three years, George has been too scared to tell you," Henry informed them.

"Henry..." George warned.

"Oh, c'mon. Things aren't going to move forward with this hanging over us," Henry told him.

"Maybe you should go," Harry told Henry flatly.

Henry ignored big brother.

"My son is not... that way inclined, young man," his mum said.

"Jesus, you guys can't even say the word gay in this house?" Henry complained.

"Please don't blaspheme in our house," dad said.

"George, tell us this man is being absurd," mum asked.

George couldn't say that - now that the truth had been spoken, he couldn't deny it. He saw the glint in Henry's eye as he too realised this - he'd won.

"Mum, just leave it. Dad, please sit down," Harry asked his parents.

George was grateful to his big brother for the intervention - this was only the beginning and he'd need Harry's help if his parents were ever going to accept this.

"Did you know about this?" mum exploded at Harry - which almost never happened.

"Mum, of course I knew," Harry said.

"I'm gonna go," George said quietly, hoping to extricate himself.

George knew there would be tough times ahead as his parents turned anger and guilt against him but they'd have to wait because he felt too drained to begin justifying his existence tonight.

"Great, we can go back to my place," Henry said with a wink.

George's mum and dad looked like they might faint or burst into flames.

"No, Henry. You're fucking dumped," George replied hotly.

His parents did not like the swearing but Harry almost hooted with delight.

"I'm what?" Henry answered.

"Get out of my face, stay away from me and go fuck yourself," George said.

"George!" his mum warned.

"Son, we don't use that kind of language. This man has obviously corrupted you," dad said; "We're glad you're taking charge and casting him aside. Now you can go back to normal..."

"Normal? For god sake, welcome to the twenty first century. Being gay is normal," Henry told them.

"No. No..." George's mum answered.

"He hasn't corrupted me!" George shouted.

Everyone went quiet.

Despite his hope of postponement, George found himself justifying his existence but he was used to not getting what he wanted.

"George, it's ok, mate," Harry reassured him.

George almost raised a grateful smile for his brother's support.

"I'm gay. I am gay, ok?" George told his parents; "I haven't told you because I knew you wouldn't like it and I enjoy not being harassed and made to feel guilty or dirty or wrong every time I'm here."

Although, on reflection, his parents were already critical of his life. How much worse could it get?

"I need to get out of here," George with a heavy sigh.

"You finally did," Henry said; "I'm proud of you."

Henry had taken hold of George's arm and was holding him in place. Harry pushed back his chair and set Henry with a livid expression. Henry might be athletically endowed but Harry could still kick his ass and he was sorely tempted to do just that. Instead, Harry remained very still and watched things very closely - he was getting ready to punch Henry in the face if he overstepped things farther. What hurt the most was that Henry's words ("I'm proud of you") had been spoken with full sincerity which was what made it hard for George to say what he had to say next.

"I don't want to be with you. I told you I didn't want this and you betrayed me," George said; "I can't trust you so stay away. Stay a long way away..."

THE RIGHT DIRECTION

FOURTEEN MONTHS LATER

FRIDAY 20TH DECEMBER 2019

George felt a little dizzy.

He stirred from his narrative, feeling groggy and Angelo was now gone. Had he been dreaming?

If it was a dream, the question was: which part was a dream? Saving the guardian angel or the trip down memory lane?

The events had felt so real, so vivid. They unfolded just as they had last year but it was like George had been inside himself watching them all over again. History repeating itself or observing the past?

George heard voices in the living room of the two bedroom flat. He pulled on a pair of boxers but also kept his towel securely around his waist and left his bedroom - the heating was on so it was pleasant enough to wander around shirtless in the flat.

Angelo was also still wearing just a towel and was chatting animatedly to Billy. Billy seemed excited and bright and happy and George felt a stab of something. Surely it wasn't it jealousy (but of whom, Billy or Angelo)? Angelo laughed in response and looked over to notice George watching them.

"Sorry about that, George. Chronal cognition can be... disorientating," Angelo explained.

"Chrono- what?" George asked.

"Chrono is Greek for time," Billy supplied.

George looked surprised while Angelo smiled approvingly.

"The Greeks have lots of interesting philosophers," Billy added by way of explanation. "Time is the most valuable thing a man can spend."

"Theophrastus," Angelo said wistfully.

Billy beamed that his reference had been understood.

"Look, it's been a long day," George said bluntly; "Angelo, are you planning on going away soon?"

"Chronal cognition is the ability to see through time," Angelo answered George's original question.

"Right. Thanks. Except I already knew all that stuff because I was there, I remember it," George answered sarcastically.

"I thought it would help ease you into the things you haven't seen yet," Angelo said casually.

"Do you two want to be alone?" Billy asked softly.

"No, please don't," George said.

Billy was happy George wanted him to stay around.

"Don't leave me alone with this nut job who thinks he's an angel," George groaned.

"Guardian angel," said Angelo and Billy at the same time.

They giggled at their synchronicity but George rolled his eyes.

"There's no such thing as angels," George said slowly as if talking to stupid people.

"Obviously," agreed Billy.

"You don't believe I'm an angel?" Angelo asked.

"Oh, you've been serious?" Billy asked - for the first time looking perturbed.

"Of course I'm serious," Angelo responded.

Half an hour ago, Billy had gotten the fright of his life when the handsome, brown-skinned babe had emerged from George's bedroom. Angelo had been completely naked and very casual about his nudity.

Damn! Angelo was smokin' hot!

He was brown, with dark curly hair, his legs were lean but muscular; his chest and abs were sculpted and his penis was about the most perfect thing Billy had ever seen. It was flaccid but three inches long and plump. The head was exposed and the soft penis dangled over two big fuzzy balls. His scrotum was tight, nestling Angelo's testes close to his body. The penis was magnificent soft and Billy idly wondered what it would look like erect.

Billy had felt a familiar stab of regret and jealousy that George was with someone that wasn't him but he still checked out Angelo. Then he blushed because he had been caught staring at a stranger's penis.

Angelo smiled and extended his had to be shook, exposing dark hair in the nook of his armpit.

"I'm Angelo, George's guardian angel," Angelo said.

"Oh... that's... unexpected..." Billy replied.

They stopped shaking hands which was a shame because Angelo's skin was soft and he was hard now. Billy hadn't meant to look, but his gaze had dropped for a sneaky peek and were now glued to Angelo's fully erect penis. If it was beautiful before, it was even more so now. It was absolutely magnificent - perhaps eight inches long, throbbing, a vein tracking up the long shaft.

"You're kind of..." Billy squeezed his eyes closed and looked away. "Hard, dude. You're hard."

"Oh, sorry. I thought you liked penises," Angelo said.

Angelo reached into George's room and grabbed the towel he'd been wearing when he'd sent George to sleep. Even with the towel on, there was a lump that looked thick and meaty.

"I do like penises. Dick's. Cock... those things..." Billy stammered.

Angelo just grinned and then chuckled at Billy's stumbling.

"You are adorably awkward," Angelo commented.

"Right, thanks," Billy replied; "Are you here for... Have you known George long?"

"No, we just met tonight. It's complicated but I'm here to help," Angelo replied.

Angelo went on to explain that George was "sort of sleeping" and when Billy peeked in at his flatmate, sure enough he was dozing. He was sat on the edge of his bed, his towel hitched up to expose a knee, the inside of a sexy thigh and any higher Billy would have seen George's dick.

Billy left the room and Angelo launched into conversation.

"Don't worry, I'm not a lover of George's. He's not been in a relationship for over a year," Angelo said knowledgably.

"Not since he broke up with Henry. Best decision he ever made," Billy added.

"Yes. But it's been a tough year for George and he was feeling very low tonight," Angelo explained.

"I know. I've tried to be there for him but Henry was a jerk and he was practically stalking George until Harry intervened. The asshat thought he could get George to take him back. And his parents keep making it hard for him..." Billy went quiet.

Wait, what did Billy really know about this mysterious man? Nothing!

As disturbed as Billy was by George's parents not being accepting and Henry trying to bully George back into a relationship, it was not going to be helpful to spill private details to a stranger.

"Oh, don't worry. You're not breaking any confidences or telling me anything I don't already know. I'm George's guardian angel," Angelo said; "I was sent to help him, to save him and to set him in the right direction."

"The right direction?" asked Billy.

"There are two directions: the life behind and the life ahead," Angelo said; "Assuming George wants either of those options, it's my job to help him see the way."

Assuming George wants either of those options?

This phrase struck Billy - what other option was there? Unless: had George decided to choose an option that didn't involve being alive?

"You've known George a long time, you must know him well," Angelo said.

This began an excited and animated conversation about George which was when George arrived.

"There's no such thing as angels," George said slowly as if talking to stupid people.

"Obviously," agreed Billy.

"You don't believe I'm an angel?" Angelo asked.

"Oh, you've been serious?" Billy asked - for the first time looking perturbed.

"Of course I'm serious," Angelo responded.

"Angelo the guardian angel? You don't think that's a little bit on the nose?" Billy asked.

George chuckled at the reply, appreciating Billy's mutual scepticism.

"That's what I said," George told Billy with a grin.

"That is literally what he said," Angelo delightedly agreed.

"Great minds think alike," George said.

"But fools seldom differ," Billy completed the aphorism.

"We'd be fool to believe his idiot," George indicated Angelo.

Billy thought about this and realised he hadn't asked an obvious question.

"Why are you both wearing towels?" Billy wondered.

"I..." George found he didn't want to tell Billy the truth.

"He saved me from the river. I fell in and he jumped in to save me and then brought me back here," Angelo said truthfully.

"What were you doing in the river?" Billy asked.

"Drowning," Angelo answered.

Billy thought about this and turned to George; "What were you doing at the river?"

George felt ashamed of himself, embarrassed by his own depression and low self-worth.

"I was at the end of my rope," George confessed.

"Oh, George..." said Billy with a tremble in his voice.

Angelo watched them both - something special was on the edge but George looked away and it was broken and Billy remained restrained by his own fears of rejection.

"It doesn't matter," George said dismissively.

"Why would you do that?" Billy asked.

"Nobody cares," George said.

"Somebody does," Angelo said knowingly.

Billy looked at him sharply and Angelo just smiled and shrugged, miming zipping his lips shut. George had a sense, just for a moment, that he should ask who: who cares enough to summon an angel? However, George's effort to pursue this was interrupted.

"That's not true, George. When the chips are down... and you're at the end of your rope, you need someone you can count on," said Billy; "And you can always count on me."

George turned away and felt tightness in his chest then hot tears on his cheeks. He wiped them away, wishing no-one had seen them.

"I need a minute," Billy said when George didn't reply.

Billy just needed time to think so he left the room with haste - running away to the kitchen and leaving George and Angelo alone together.

"He's a good friend," Angelo commented neutrally.

"The best," George agreed and then chuckled; "You know, two months after we moved in here, I got the worst flu I've ever had. Seriously, I felt like I was dying. Billy looked after me; he bought me soup and made me hot drinks, he got me cold towels and pain killers. He didn't even know me."

"He's a very good friend," Angelo commented neutrally.

"Is Billy ok?" George asked Angelo - as if he'd know - while looking worriedly towards the kitchen.

"Are you?" countered Angelo.

George shook his head.

"I feel like I'm letting everyone down," George replied; "The last year and a bit have been really difficult. My parents have always been hard on me but now... they don't want me to be gay. Every time I see them they make that clear, they want me to change and I'm letting them down."

"You can choose to hate and resent. You can choose to love and support. But you can't change who you are, George. You know they love you, right?" Angelo assured him - though George wasn't so sure.

"They love me as long as I'm not gay. As long as I'm single and miserable," George said; "Billy has been great and so has my big brother."

"Harry," Angelo said with great significance.

"Yes, Harry. He's tried to tell my parents to accept me as I am and if he can't persuade them nothing can," George told his guardian angel. "But every time I see my mum and dad they make it clear that Harry is the golden son. Harry is married with children. Harry rescued fourteen elderly people from a fire last week..."

His parents had saved clippings from every newspaper they could find and screen shots of every online article that had covered the story. George loved his brother and was proud of him and was obviously relieved that elderly people hadn't died but his parents were becoming unbearable.

"I suppose Henry hasn't made things easy for you either?" Angelo prompted.

"No," George replied sharply; "I dumped him over a year ago and he keeps coming back. He tells me I'm nothing without him and he's a stud while I'm average. He reminds me that he's out of my league but he wants me anyway and I should consider myself lucky he still wants me. He says that with my family not accepting me, he's all I have..."

"Not all," Angelo said with a smile - looking towards the small kitchen where they could hear Billy moving around.

George's brow knotted, not understanding - not really.

"Well Henry is gone anyway, I think. Harry had a word with him," George said.

George didn't know exactly what had been said but Harry made it clear that if Henry wanted to remain attached to his testicles, he was to fuck off and stop bothering George.

"Sometimes... Sometimes I wish I'd never been born," George said.

Angelo's eyes flashed brightly.

"That's an idea. Would you like to see what that world looks like?" Angelo asked him sensuously.

"What? You can show me a past that didn't happen as well as a past that did?" George asked.

His vision from fourteen months ago had felt so real.

"Yes, actually. It's called parachronal cognition," Angelo said. "If chronal cognition is the ability to see through time, parachronal cognition is the ability to see time adjacent to the current timeline."

George didn't really understand sci-fi speak. He preferred when they didn't even bother trying, like Groundhog Day. Seriously, not one line about how that time loop started or why it stopped?

"How does it work?" George asked.

"Like this."

Last time Angelo had nudged him but this time the angel slapped the palm of his hand on the centre of George's forehead and the whole world toppled over.

A STEP TO THE RIGHT

SATURDAY 21ST DECEMBER 2019

"Shit, sorry. I didn't see you there," said a lad with beer in each hand.

There was a little less in his right hand having spilled it when he bumped into George. There was loud music, a throng of people, junk food, some vomit and every surface in the kitchen was covered with booze of one sort or another.

George glanced at the clock and saw it was after midnight. The time had run away from him but that seemed about right. It was disorientating that one moment he was in his quiet flat and the next he was surrounded by a din of activity - barely a second had passed between the two moments.

The lad with the beer moved on and George checked himself out - he was relieved to be wearing more than just a towel and underpants. He was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt and black boots but as he looked around he didn't seem to recognise anyone. The music was so loud he could nearly see the walls bounce and he fully expected his neighbours to complain.

"He's behind you," said a familiar voice.

George turned to see Angelo, who was also dressed but he was wearing white jeans, t-shirt and white shoes.

"Where are we?" George asked.

Although the volume of the music hadn't changed, there was a strange atmosphere between them that seemed to allow them to talk without shouting.

"We're in your flat," said Angelo.

"Are we?" George asked; he cast an exaggerated look around the unrecognisable place that was very much recognisable as his flat.

"More or less," Angelo admitted; "Think of this as an echo of the place you know."

"An echo?" George repeated entirely innocently.

Angelo laughed, assuming George had echoed his word as a joke.

"Everything is more or less the same except here, except you were never born," Angelo explained; "And the world, like an echoing voice, is a little reduced for it."

"Yea right," George scoffed.

"You'll see," Angelo said; "Think of it as an adventure. Like The Adventures of Tom Sawyer."

"To make a man or boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make it difficult to attain," George said.

Angelo smiled approvingly.

"And happiness, of all things, it the most difficult thing to attain," Angelo said.

"So now I'm here, what do I do?" George asked.

"Take a look around and see what you think of this world. Let it see what it thinks of you," Angelo answered; "The echo will fade with time and once it's faded, it's gone."

"So this isn't time travel? I don't need to worry about stepping on a butterfly or killing Hitler as a baby?" George checked.

"No, it's not time travel; we've just taken a step to the right. Also, there aren't many butterflies in December and murder is bad," Angelo noted.

"Right. So, what did you call it... parachonal cognition?" George reminded himself.

"This world is in your mind, George. The echo surrounds you; you have no worries, no obligations, there are no consequences," Angelo told him. "You are only here to see how the world got on without you."

"My head hurts. Can I go to my room?" George asked.

"You don't have a room. That guy has your room and he's about to use it with that girl and her boyfriend," Angelo explained.

"Oh great, there's a threesome in my room and even in this world I'm not invited," George joked.

Angelo laughed but George found his headache grow worse, the noise and the people pushed against him and he was driven toward the other bedroom in the flat. On the door there was a "do not disturb" sign. Below that was a sign that read, "Seriously, fuck off. Keep the party out of here."

George thought he had found his fortress of solitude and pushed his way into the room. The door had to be forced open against the weight of something on the other side but inside the room was dimly lit and blissfully quiet.

A silhouette sat up in the dark and George realised he was intruding - the barricade had been too subtle a hint, apparently. A lamp snapped on and a furious face turned surprised and soft - it was Billy. George guessed it made sense that Billy still lived in the flat even though he didn't.

"No offense, but the sign on the door says keep out and the chest of drawers is supposed to discourage people barging in," Billy said.

"The sign doesn't say keep out, it says do not disturb," George replied. Then a moment later, he added: "Maybe semantics isn't the winning argument I thought it was."

Billy sniggered, charmed by the intruder and feeling slightly less pissed off.

"It's good to see you, Billy," George admitted.

"Do I know you?" Billy replied.

George looked around for Angelo to help him explain the... the echo-verse... but Angelo hadn't followed him into the room.

"No... yes... one of those two..." George answered.

"Ok," Billy said - drawing the word out to several syllables.

"I just needed somewhere quiet to think. Can I stay?" George asked.

"At least lock the door again," Billy responded.

George pushed the chest of drawers against the door and hovered at the foot of Billy's bed. Billy looked good - in a sleeveless vest and shorts that showed off his skinny legs. Although George's type had tended towards the buff and athletic, he realised that Billy's gangly physique was quite cute.

Billy swept his legs up, crossing them and watched George with curiosity.

"You can sit down, I guess. What's your name?" Billy asked.

"George."

Billy's smile made George feel warm inside as he sat on the edge of the bed next to Billy.

"Do I know you or not?" Billy asked.

"I'm not sure," George replied; "It's hard to explain."

George looked away, embarrassed by himself.

"I don't wanna talk if it makes you feel sad," Billy said.

"Abba?" George laughed, "And I was expecting a philosophy quote."

"Oh, maybe we have met," Billy said; "You know I like philosophy? Do you like philosophy?"

"I like that you like it," George replied; "Don't you have a cat called Kant?"

"Yes, but he likes parties even less than I do. He's out stalking the streets like a..." Billy didn't want to say a hooker but it's what he thought.

"Like a cat?" suggested George, though he too had thought hooker.

"Exactly," Billy beamed back.

"I don't like parties either," George said to keep the conversation going; "I don't have parties like this in my flat."

"Are you looking for a roommate?" Billy joked.

"I don't think I'd be very good company," George confessed; "I've had a rough year... it's been rough for over a year, I guess. I just hadn't noticed until..."

"Are you ok?" Billy asked softly.

Billy had moved, reached over and put his hand on top of George's. George looked into Billy's kind eyes, causing him to blush. Billy was the same no matter what world he was in - wearing his heart on his sleeve. Indeed, right before George had stepped to the right into this echo world, Billy had been upset to find out George wanted to end his life, upset he hadn't known George was at the end of his rope, upset George hadn't said goodbye.

George appreciated Billy's compassion and he leaned over to kiss Billy softly on the lips - just a peck - a gesture of thanks and friendship.

"What's troubling you?" Billy asked; "Do you want to talk about it?"

"My religious parents have always been hard on me but especially since my ex-boyfriend outed me. My ex- stalked me until my brother... eh, encouraged him not to. I'm going to get passed over for a promotion that I deserve more than my boss's son. My brother is a cool guy but my parents treat him like the sun shines out his arse," George felt bad about resenting his brother for his parent's act of favouritism but there it was. "I'm trying really hard but... I'm just so unhappy."

Billy was quiet for a moment before he answered.

"Kant says the rules for happiness are; something to do, someone to love and something to hope for," Billy quoted.

"Your cat said all that?" George joked spontaneously.

They both laughed and Billy swatted his arm, moving back across the bed. He had enjoyed the closeness to the stranger but he really didn't know the man.

"Most parents want their kids to be happy," Billy said; "I work for my dad and he loves me even though I'm pretty useless."

George didn't say anything - the same was true of his Billy - because Billy was well-meaning and tried hard.

"My last boyfriend was over three years ago... I'm rounding it down from four years," Billy continued and chuckled self deprecatingly.

George recognised how similar his Billy was to this man and was surprised how attracted he felt.

"I'm not sure what my point was," Billy confessed.

"Everybody has something," George said.

He heaved a sigh.

"I need to pee... do you still want to hang out when I come back?" asked Billy.

He sounded like an excited kid with a new best friend.

"I'm not going anywhere, Billy."

Billy unlocked his door by shifting the chest of drawers - the noise that had been dulled by the door, intruded the room like an unwelcome guest. As Billy disappeared from sight, Angelo's handsome face appeared in the gap between the door frame and the door.

"Making progress are we?" Angelo asked.

"Not really, Billy is exactly the same whether he meets me or not," George said.

It was depressing to think his life had had so little impact.

"Billy is very unhappy here," Angelo said; "He's barricaded himself in his own room in his own flat less than a week before Christmas."

George mulled over this - he hadn't thought about it that way.

"Is he ok?" George asked.

"He likes his independence but his roommate isn't you so he's thinking about moving back home," Angelo said; "But he's worried he's already a burden on his dad."

"Has he ever wanted to move out from me?" George wondered.

"No, he loves you," Angelo answered.

A few hours ago, George wouldn't have thought twice about the word "love" and now he found himself wondering. He wondered about Billy's feelings for him and moreover, his feelings for Billy.

"What about my mum and dad?" George asked to escape those thoughts.

"They're separated," Angelo told him.

"What? Why?" asked George.

"Your brother died," Angelo revealed; "When you were kids he ran into a burning building and you saved him. Without you here, he died from smoke inhalation."

George had no reply to that. He knew his Harry was still alive in the real world but had never really considered he was important to his brother's life.

"Your dad and mum couldn't cope and divorced," Angelo said.

"Divorced?" George said with amazement.

George's parents were of the kind who disapproved of divorce - just as they disapproved of homosexuality.

"Faith can be rocked by anything, George. Sometimes faith changes for the people we love and sometimes it gets broken," Angelo reported.

"Harry must have been very important to them," George said, mitigating himself.

"George, your life touched others and those lives touch others. You've done a lot of good," Angelo explained. "Maybe your parents would still be together if they'd lost Harry but still had you? Consider this, fourteen elderly people died in a fire last week because Harry wasn't there to save them because you weren't there to save Harry. You have a wonderful life George. Don't you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?"

George understood what Angelo was getting at. He had saved Harry and Harry saved the old folks - without George, Harry didn't save grandfathers and grandmothers. Maybe without a grandfather, a girl didn't get inspired to join the army or a boy never decided to be a nurse. On and on, the presence or absence of people topples the world like dominos.

George was important to his corner of the world and Harry was important too and so on and so on.

"And you've made a difference too. Your work at the bank exposed fraud last year that would have cost millions. People would have lost their homes or pensions. Money lost and money stolen, held to random, and that was foiled because of you," Angelo pointed out.

"How do you know all this?" George asked.

Everything that had happened since the bridge felt totally unreal but if it was happening, George didn't know how to explain any of it. He didn't believe in god or angels or leprechauns or dragons or unicorns or ghosts or demons or magic...

"Because I'm your guardian angel," Angelo twinkled.

"I don't believe in angels," George protested again.

"I know... but I'm here to help you anyway," Angelo replied.

"Who sent you?" George asked.

"Someone who loves you," Angelo told him; "And a lot of people love you, George. The Choir was watching anyway and knew you needed help."

"Angels watch me all the time?" George asked.

"Sure. When you're depressed because your ex-boyfriend is stalking you or when you're on a bridge... and sometimes in the shower," Angelo joked.

George chuckled and then realised the music outside had faded.

"Where did the party go?" George asked.

He was a little freaked out; it was like suddenly being deafened by silence.

"The echo is fading," Angelo said.

"Is Billy..." George worried.

"Billy is still here," Angelo assured him.

"When this place fades... he won't think I abandoned him, will he?" George worried.

"This place is an echo and you are the voice," Angelo told him; "This glimpse of another life is like breath on a mirror. "

"Will I remember all of this?" George asked.

"Wouldn't be much good if you forgot," Angelo replied.

"But Billy won't?" George clarified.

"No, but he'll be with you until the very end," promised Angelo; "He always is, no matter what."

George looked past Angelo and saw the rest of the flat was now not only quiet but devoid of partying people. The room was gloomy, lit only by the moon outside the window. Angelo stepped back and George saw Billy crossing the living room and coming towards him. He smiled - his limbs were illuminated in the pale moonlight and casting him in a ghostly white shade.

"I don't normally invite guys I've just met to stay the night but..." Billy blushed and bashfully rubbed his arm; "Do you want to stay the night?"

"Yes."

Billy brushed past him as he re-entered his bedroom and George turned to ask Angelo one last question but he had vanished from sight. George turned back and watched Billy tuck himself into bed.

"Sorry, I've gone cold all of a sudden," Billy said and his teeth chattered.

Before closing the bedroom door, George saw the space beyond seemed to have vanished - like someone had stolen the room beyond and left darkness in its place. George closed the bedroom door and walked to the bed.

In all the years he'd lived with Billy, George had never seen him as a prospective lover. Now that the thought had imbedded itself, it wouldn't leave him alone. Over the seven years they had lived together, Billy had had two boyfriends - each lasted a year, plus or minus a month. George had had three boyfriends; one had lasted six months, one had lasted 18 months and Henry had lasted three years.

It was over a year since either of them had had a boyfriend.

George sat on the edge of Billy's bed and pulled off his shoes and socks, then tugged the jeans off too; he slipped his legs into bed and lay beside Billy in a t-shirt and boxers. George turned on his side to face Billy and then they each inched closer until their chests were nearly touching.

Neither of the men was hard (yet) but the lumps in their shorts felt electrified. George felt like a teenager again. He remembered the first time he'd been in bed with a boy...

George had been fifteen, his best friend had revealed he was gay and there was a look of expectation that George would do the same. He didn't - he was too scared. But that night they had gone to bed, slipping under the covers and slowly coming together. Every touch felt scandalous and exciting; their bare feet touched and then stroked each other's legs. The boys arms touched and hands found hard places. Fingers felt teenage stubble and wiry hair.

...George moved his leg until it slipped between Billy's. They both had soft skin and downy hair and although they were cold, heat was building. George felt his breath grow hot and his chest quickening.

Billy closed the distance until their chests and stomachs touched and he put his arms around George and held him. George felt safe and special in a way he never had before. George brought his lips to Billy's and kissed him.

The kiss was soft, gentle and tentative - like the time George kissed his best friend when he was fifteen. But George wasn't fifteen anymore, he was twenty four and falling in love. He kissed Billy with greater passion and Billy too felt himself melting into the passionate exchange.

When lips parted, neither of them felt cold anymore and they panted in the dark. George could feel Billy's hot breath and see the outline of his friend in the dark, his features picked out by wane light.

"I've never done this before," Billy said and then laughed at himself; "I mean I've done... you know... I mean I've never had a strange man in my bed."

"Who are you calling strange?" George teased.

Billy sniggered and in the dark George could see interest and reticence in equal measure.

"You're a really nice man, Billy," George said; "I know you better than anyone and I don't know how I missed you."

"And you wonder why I called you strange?" Billy said ironically.

George sniggered this time and leaned his head forward, tucking it under Billy's chin to rest it on his chest. George lifted his head and looked around the room which had entirely vanished now, withdrawing into the shadows. Only the bed and Billy remained so George kissed Billy on the lips and reached for his t-shirt.

George didn't know if Billy would let the strange man in his bed undress him, but there was one way to find out. To George's delight, Billy lifted his arms for George to remove the t-shirt and then Billy reciprocated the gesture. They each sat up in the bed, legs under the covers, now shirtless and feeling for each other. They each twisted to face the other; Billy caressed George's stubbly chest, shaved over a month ago and starting to grow in again. Billy meanwhile had a skinny chest with bony ribs and surprising thick spread of hair from nipple to nipple and descending like a triangle down to his bellybutton.

Billy traced George's nipple like a blind man feeling Braille. While Billy explored George's chest, George buried his face in Billy's long neck and kissed it. He sucked on the skin and kissed up and down the length of his neck, then along the clavicle. Unlike his chest, Billy's collar and shoulder was surprisingly smooth - like porcelain.

Billy had an otter-like body style and George tried to recall the number of time's he'd noticed Billy with his shirt off. After a shower occasionally and one time at a beach party but that was before George had even dated Henry so it must have been a long time ago.

George decided he liked Billy's body a lot and it was exciting to learn, notice and explore new things with a familiar person. The comfort of familiarity blended with enthusiasm to begin something new. Billy's hand had moved from George's chest to his abdomen and his fingers slipped into George's underwear. Billy's fingertips could feel trimmed pubes and he looked into George's eyes for permission before continuing.

Billy was such a contrast to the sexually aggressive relationship he had with Henry. Things had always been consensual and safe with Henry but his ex-boyfriend had been a very controlling lover. Breaking up with him had revealed an unhealthy relationship beneath the one George had enjoyed for three years.

George nodded at Billy and Billy slipped his hand into George's underwear. Billy felt George's penis get fat but not fully hard. For better position, George and Billy pushed the sheets aside and into the void beyond the bed. They knelt on the bed facing each other and kissed while reaching into underwear and feeling the contents like experimental teenagers.

"Take my underwear off," George whispered.

Billy pulled either side of George's underwear so his ass and penis flopped put into the open air; he pushed them down to the mattress where George knelt and George lifted each knee, wrestling with his underwear to remove them completely from his legs.

Billy did the same with his own underwear, blushing as he held them in his hand and revealed himself naked to George for the first time. Like his chest, Billy was quite (but not extremely) hairy in his groin; his dick jutted out from an impressive bush and George felt a swell in his dick as he looked at the man.

George reached for Billy's hand, covering it with his own and taking Billy's underwear under his influence - together, they tossed the boxers into the void beyond the echo. George reached for Billy's testes and caressed them in his hand like medicine balls.

Billy put his hands on George's shoulders and stroked up and down his bicep with loving touches. His hands swept to George's sides and George wriggled ticklish when Billy's hands reached his armpits. The giggle was a beautiful sound, relaxing the nervous tension so George took the moment to hold Billy's dick and pull it until it was hard.

Billy's dick was about six inches long with a nice head that revealed itself as his foreskin peeled back. George moved so he could bend over and put the cock in his mouth. Gone was the sudden realisation that Billy felt like the right person and in its place was the feeling that this was the way things were meant to be. Billy reached over George and stroked his bare back, the bumps of his spine popping under Billy's touch.

Billy's cock tasted good. It swelled and leaked and mixed with George's spit to create a slick pole of hard meat. Billy's touch on his bare skin excited George enormously until he lifted his head to kiss Billy's lips with penis breath. Their tongues met and swirled around each other; wet lips and smacking noises filled the room until the only other sound was breathless panting and the beating drums of their hearts.

"Sixty-nine?" Billy said eagerly.

George nodded in agreement and slumped to his right, head towards the foot of the bed, while Billy slumped his head towards the head of the bed. Billy sought not a pillow but access to George's cock. They shuffled until their faces found the other's love organ and George renewed his phallic adoration with lips and tongue, kissing and sucking.

Billy had the enviable task of kissing George's flaccid dick. It wasn't totally soft, it had filled out enough so as not to be embarrassingly shrunken but it was only a few inches long and tucked inside the turtleneck of foreskin. Billy kissed the dick and licked the three inch shaft; instantly it was three and a half inches.

Billy used his hand to peel back the foreskin, trapping it behind the head of George's rising cock. Billy set his wet tongue to the task of licking the head and shaft and coaxing out a full erection; he could have just jerked it and the cock would have been hard in seconds but he wanted to take his time and enjoy it.

Billy suckled the semi-hard cock, pulling it into his mouth and feeling it harden in the warm cave of his orifice. George was in heaven as his dick was sucked into an erection and he sucked on Billy's dick at the same moment. He switched to licking and then sucking each of Billy's balls, smelling the sweat of the day which was intoxicating rather than malodorous.

Billy was surprised how big George's dick was; just under seven inches which was plenty for pleasure. They each sucked on cock for another few minutes, stroking thighs and arms and backs in a tactile exploration of the other's body that brought them closer and closer. The only closer they could get was fulfilled by George who removed Billy's dick from his mouth and sat up. His body was twisted around to gaze at Billy who also stopped sucking. George resolved his position with a gentle nudge of Billy's shoulder so his flatmate lay on his back and George swung his leg over to straddle Billy across the middle.

George lowered himself on top of Billy, their groins and chests meeting and finally faces reuniting. They kissed and George felt his and Billy's engorged cocks sandwiched between them. George could feel the rough but pleasing thatch of Billy's chest hair as rubbed himself up and down Billy's body, smearing spit and dick juice between their bodies. When he rolled off, he pulled Billy with him and Billy went on top.

There was a beautiful reciprocity to their exploration that George hadn't realised was missing from his previous love making. Henry might have been a generous and exciting lover that made George feel good but his ex-boyfriend had also been a selfish lover. It had been about his pleasure and his control; in contrast, George and Billy were united in mutual gratification.

Billy brought his leg between George's legs so that as he humped, their cocks smashed between them and Billy's thigh put just a tiny amount of pressure on George's balls. George grunted and his arms reached up to grab Billy again, pulling his head down and holding it so their kissing could continue forever.

It didn't last forever, but George hoped when he left this echo of a world that Billy would want to do this in the real world. Was this what Angelo had led George into an echo of reality for - to discover that there was someone who loved him and who he loved in return?

Angelo's part in this story felt like a long time ago.

George had wanted to be happy; he had sought a sense of wonder and knew now that they were the same thing. George's wonderlust was fulfilled by finding happiness with Billy. George owed Angelo for showing him that - if Angelo really was an angel seeking to earn his wings, he had earned them tonight.

Billy rolled off and tucked himself beside George; George remained on his back and he could feel Billy's chest against his right arm and dick against his right hip. They lay beside each other in contentment and George wondered how this echo would end.

"Make love to me," whispered Billy.

George turned to see wet eyes in Billy's face and his own shone with a similar desire for closeness. Billy rolled onto his back and spread his legs. Neither George nor Billy acknowledged the need for protection - neither would have unprotected sex under normal circumstances. These were not normal circumstances: Billy wasn't real and George was in an echo world where he didn't exist.

George stroked himself while manoeuvring into position, holding the head of his cock which he then pressed against Billy's hole. He pressed, seeing and feeling the spongy head of his dick remould against the sphincter; as Billy's hole relaxed and eased open it seemed to suck George in.

Little by little, George pushed harder until his cock popped into Billy's ass and the warm confines surrounded George's shaft. George pushed in and when he began to pump back and forth, he felt his balls swing and heard slapping noises when they made fleshy pats against Billy's skin.

George felt filled up with delight as he filled Billy's ass with pleasure. He reached for Billy's dick and jerked it for him while continuing his own pulling and pressing. Billy recovered from the initial penetration and reached for his own cock which allowed George to put his hands on Billy's knees and then to stoke Billy's legs.

It was an act of true lovemaking that was quite unlike the fucking George had been used to with Henry. Billy shifted on the bed as George pushed in and out; each could see delight on the other's face.

Kissing, holding each other, caressing skin and stroking cock and sucking and now sexing each other - it had all happened so fast. Billy moaned beneath George, who felt the need to cum building inside him. George pushed deep inside his lover, but not hard. Billy loved it and the sphincter of his ass, tightened its ring around George's cock as if refusing to let it go. George pulled back, feeling the tightness and longing to release his seed inside Billy.

Billy was getting close to cumming and George too was reaching climax - he'd never cum inside someone without a condom before and the bareback sensation was indescribable. Billy shot his load, launching spunk against the headboard and then all over himself. George took a few more moments before his dick caught up to Billy's ecstasy.

George shot inside Billy's ass, filling it with milky spunk that leaked out when George pulled his cock free. George watched the lazy dribble of his own seed trickle its escape and saw fit to press his cock against Billy's hole to push it back in. He pressed and shot again, poking Billy's ass with his rod and pulling it out only to squash his cum in again.

Finally satisfied with the result and unable to take the stimulation in his cock or his empty balls any longer, George stopped. He scrambled up the bed to lay with Billy and they entwined together in a close embrace.

Billy's chest was sticky with cum and when George put his arm over his new lover, he cared not for the sloppy mess that transferred to himself. George grinned in the dark - wondering if Billy's chest needed to be dry-cleaned or not. The feel of Billy's cum matted in his chest and spreading onto George's arm as he wrapped Billy in an embrace was like a warm sun on one's face in summertime.

"That was... I don't believe it," Billy said.

"It was... unbelievable," George agreed.

They chuckled and appreciated that each was holding something back.

"Billy..." George said.

"George..." Billy replied.

"Me too," George said, cowardly avoiding saying what was really in his heart.

George knew it was in Billy's heart too. He was addressing the unsaid and yet the feeling in his heart was wonderful. George's wonderlust, his quest for happiness, was fulfilled.

"Ditto," Billy replied, also avoiding admitting his feelings.

Billy wasn't about to say it either but it must have been obvious.

George wasn't sure he believed in love at first sight - besides this was not first sight - but he was starting to. George was starting to believe in his own self-worth and the idea of standing on a bridge dropped like a stone into a river, sinking away forever; George could never do that to Billy. More than that, he could never do that to himself.

Angelo had succeeded in showing George that he mattered - to himself.

George and Billy remained naked and uncovered, drawing warmth from each other. George's cum trickled out of Billy's ass, running along the cleft of his buttock as he lay on his side and wrapped in George's arms. They were still naked, fleshy penises touching but they remained flaccid. The embrace was intimate and comforting.

"I'm tired," Billy said, his voice seeming to echo in an empty space.

"Me too," said George but his voice was swallowed by nothingness.

What George felt next was no small step but a giant leap.

THE LEAP HOME

SATURDAY 21ST DECEMBER 2019

"...And hoping each time that the next leap, will be the leap home."

Some vaguely recognisable 90's TV show was on the barely audible TV as George came around. The dizziness was familiar - like when he awoke from his trip down memory lane. As George stirred from his narrative, feeling groggy, he saw Angelo dressed in dry clothes and lazily reading a book - The Greatest Gift, by Philip Van Doren Stern.

The echo, as Angelo had called, it was already slipping away - losing details but the shape remained. The feelings for Billy remained and the knowledge that Billy felt something for him abided too.

"All those things that happened... did they happen?" George enquired doubtfully.

"The universe is change, the world is what our minds make of it," Angelo answered.

"Marcus Aurelius," George said, surprising Angelo - "I do listen to Billy, you know."

Angelo nodded his agreement.

"I should hope so," Angelo replied.

"This is a big step for me..." George started to say.

"A giant leap for George kind," Angelo interrupted.

George grinned happily - the irreverent angel was growing on him.

"I feel something for Billy that wasn't there before but it doesn't feel new. It feels... familiar," George reported.

"Billy's feelings for you in the echo are the same as they are here, except..." Angelo paused briefly; "They've matured with age, like a fine wine."

"He's in love with me?" George asked.

Angelo didn't like to speak for Billy, so he didn't.

"There is something I want to know..." George asked.

"I know. I mean, I know what you want you know... y'know?" Angelo jested.

"You said you came here to help me. Someone who loves me sent you," George recalled.

Angelo nodded.

"Billy?" George asked.

"Not Billy, though it's true he wants what's best for you," Angelo answered. "It's hard to explain how a guardian angel is called, George."

Angelo couldn't explain it so he lifted his hands and cupped one over each of George's ears. Then George heard his mother's voice.

"Please, God help my son George. He's been having a very tough time lately and... and I haven't made it easy for him. I've always been so hard on him..." mum's voice cracked.

"We struggled to accept him for who he is... because I've always known," his dad's voice joined in.

"I want mum and dad to listen to me. To accept George for who he is before they loss him," said Harry.

"I've been punishing him for being that way inclined..." his mum cried.

"We can't punish him for being the way he is. You made him the way he is..."

"Please help George, I'm worried about my little brother..."

"I tried to be a good Christian and a good mother... I don't feel like either with the way I've hurt my George."

"I want my boy to be happy. Please help George, God... I want him to be happy... Please, God..."

"Please help by brother. If you're busy you could send the tooth fairy or a policeman or..."

As long as George lived, he never thought he would hear his mum so vulnerable or his dad so desperate. Harry's desire for George to be ok was less surprising than the fact he still prayed. Someone had been listening - god or fate or time or just the Choir of Angels.

"Your mum and dad were praying together as you were walking along the bridge. I was watching and... well, how could I resist?" Angelo asked.

"They were praying to god, does that mean... Is there a god? Did he send you?" George asked.

Angelo smiled enigmatically; "Do angels make more sense if there's an invisible sky magician directing them?"

George could hear the good humour in Angelo's voice - he was joking and poking fun and making no attempt to elucidate.

"Ask Billy if there's a god. Philosophy and religion are, after all, two words which are different... in spelling," Angelo sagely revealed.

"Plato?" George asked facetiously.

"Eddie Izzard," Angelo said.

George laughed, bringing emotional tears to his eyes.

"Thank you, Angelo," he said, wiping his eyes.

"You're welcome, George."

George hugged Angelo tightly - somehow he knew he'd never see the angel again.

"Will you get your wings now?" George asked.

"Maybe. But I'm only two hundred and ninety three so if I have to wait a little longer..." Angelo began to say.

A sound like a bell sounded and George turned towards it but it was only a text message arriving on his phone. When George turned back to Angelo, the angel was gone.

Perhaps, every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings, George thought.

George checked his phone - a message from Harry was on screen.

Harry: [Are you ok? Billy messaged to say you were feeling down?]

George looked at the clock - it was late so his brother must be on night shift.

George: [I'm ok now. I was feeling... not great. But I think something wonderful has happened.]

Harry: [Ok. I'm glad you're feeling ok. What's happened?]

George: [I think Billy likes me and I think I like him.]

George: [Well aware I sound like a fifteen year old. Lol.]

Harry: [Finally. Penny in the air... the penny drops.]

George: [Why am I not surprised you knew this already?]

Harry: [I'm very insightful.]

George: [What does your insight tell you about how I tell mum and dad?]

Harry: [It's been over a year since you broke up with Henry. I've been telling mum and dad to get the fuck over the whole "George is gay" thing. It ruined last Charismas. It's been hurting you.]

George: [It's really hard being around them. I know they believe something I don't but they're hurting me. I can't be around them when they're like this.]

Harry: [You should tell them how you feel. If they're not going accept you and cut out the guilt trip, I don't think I want to be around them either. You can always count on me, bro.]

George: [I know, Harry. I'll leave mum & dad a message and let them think about what they want to do.]

Harry: [Good luck. Love you.]

George: [Love you too.]

No time like the present, George called his mum's phone - knowing it would be switched off this late at night. His call went to voicemail and George realised he had to speak.

"Hi mum and dad. It's George. I'm calling because..."

It was hard to articulate. Fourteen months ago his asshole ex-boyfriend had outed him and his parents had spent every week and month since trying to persuade him to not be gay, to change, the pray it away. They'd always been hard on him but they loved him and that was what Angelo had allowed him to glimpse - his parents loved him. They loved him in spite of what they viewed as his flaws, rather than because of his quirks or individuality.

"The last year has been really hard. I don't know if I'd have ever told you I was gay but I didn't get the choice so I'm glad, in a way. No matter what, I'm glad you know because this is me. I feel like you want me to change and maybe you think being gay my test or... it doesn't matter. I'm not going to change. I'm not going to stop being gay. I won't change. You change. If you want me in your lives, you'll have to change because I can't."

George thought about just hanging up then, but he added:

"I love you both. But I won't feel guilty for being who I am anymore. I think I've met someone and he makes me happy and I hope you can be happy for me because of that," George said; "You can let me know if that's something you can accept."

George hung up and tossed his phone on the sofa and tugged the towel from around his waist - he still had his boxers on underneath but remained shirtless. It was cold in the flat now - George hadn't felt it until now but now that Angelo was gone and he wasn't concentrating on his family, the need for physical warmth beckoned him.

George went to Billy's bedroom and pushed the door open. It was dim inside but George was able to make out the shape of Billy in the bed and soft sleeping noised from him too.

George listened to the snuffling noises - they were cute and relaxed.

George crossed to the bed and slipped under the covers. He pulled the covers up to his chin and shivered - his body was cold from his toes to his ears. George continued to listen to Billy sleep and when he felt warmer, turned on his side to face Billy's back.

Billy was in shorts and t-shirt for sleeping. In all the years they had shared a flat, they had never shared a bed. They had hugged and cuddled as a friendly gesture but never intimately. George moved closer to Billy and spooned into his back.

The change in Billy's breathing signalled that he had probably woken; George put his arm over Billy, his hand resting on the lower part of Billy's chest. He could feel Billy's chest rise and fall and the warmth of his body spilled into George.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" George whispered.

Billy took George's had in his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Where's your guardian angel?" asked Billy.

Facing away from George, the question felt like it was posed at a distance; it was posed with a hint of jealousy and ironically, it sounded like an echo. George had been with Billy in the echo world, but here they were still just flatmates.

"Angelo is gone. He made me realise something," George answered.

"What's that?"

"How important you are... and how blind I've been to not see you," George replied.

Billy turned now, George's arm remained draped over him when they came face to face. Billy extended his arm and draped it over George - completing a half-hug. However, there was a gap between their chests. The gap between them was the width of doubt.

"I've always seen you, George. I've always hoped you'd see me," Billy admitted.

"Instead I wasted my time with men like Henry," George realised.

"Henry didn't deserve you," Billy agreed.

"You deserve me," George said; "And I hope I deserve you."

Billy leaned in and gave George a little kiss on the lips. It was not lustful or passionate, it was chaste and compassionate.

"Am I dreaming?" Billy asked, half seriously.

George smiled in the night. The echo Angelo had shown him had been a dream and making that a reality was his, and Billy's, best hope for happiness.

"A dream come true," George said.

"That's mawkish... I mean nice," said Billy with a giggle and then added; "Happy thoughts."

"Kant says the rules for happiness are; something to do, someone to love and something to hope for," George recalled.

George was recalling not only the echo but also the hundred times Billy had quoted Kant or some other philosopher. He wanted Billy to know he listened and valued Billy's interests.

"Yes," Billy agreed; "So, have you found happiness?"

"I found something to do, hugging you; I found someone to love, I love you; and I found something to hope for... that you love me too," George said.

"I do. I have for a long time," Billy said.

There were no more words after that. They didn't fall into throes of passion or lust, they fell asleep like that; in each other's arms, warm and happy.

It was the day before the shortest day so although the sun rose just after 8AM, it was still gloomy until midmorning. No alarm woke George and Billy, but they stirred almost at the same time and found themselves still close.

Legs and arms were tangled, they were comfortably warm and each smiled at the other. Today was the beginning of something new. They had known each other for seven years but today they woke up in the same bed for the first time and hoped they would never sleep apart again.

"Good morning," George whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Billy asked.

"I don't know," George chuckled. "Maybe I'm, not whispering, I'm just speaking softly?"

George pressed his lips against Billy's ear.

"Ok," Billy replied softly.

"I hate to ruin the moment, but I need to go pee," George said.

The men disentangled and George walked to the bathroom. After urinating, he showered and returned to his own room. It was strange to acknowledge a huge change in his life and yet return to a familiar routine. George emerged from his room dressed and could hear Billy in the shower.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

George registered the doorbell after the second ring and when he opened the door he was surprised to find his mum and dad on the doorstep. George could count on one hand the number of times they'd been to his flat.

"Are you ok, son?" his dad asked.

"I'm fine," George answered.

"We were worried. We got your message in the middle of the night," his mum said tightly but filled with concern too; "We were... we were worried something was wrong."

George wasn't sure how to take it. Was she criticising him for calling so late? That would be his mum's style, yet it sounded more like concern. She was worried he was up so late, calling so late, thinking about things at such small hours of the night.

"I was at the end of my rope," George admitted.

He had no intention of telling them he had planned to jump off a bridge but there was a look across his dad's face as if he knew.

"We've been unfair to you," his mum said.

George was surprised she said it but her tone was reluctant. She sounded loathed to admit she was wrong. She sounded conflicted too - over forty years of religious observance competing with her love for her son.

"I just want to be happy," George said.

"We want you to be happy too, George," dad said.

"I'm gay," he reminded them; it felt like coming out all over again.

"Son, why didn't you tell us sooner?" dad asked.

"I pretended... because I didn't want to disappoint you," George said shyly.

"You're not a disappointment," dad said.

"And are you happy, now?" his mum asked as tersely as usual.

"I'm ok," George answered.

"You'll come to Christmas dinner next week?" dad asked.

"Can I bring someone?" George replied.

His dad looked at mum and she silently huffed.

"Of course you can," dad replied cheerfully.

His parents coming to his door was a good sign - a sign they were willing to start accepting him rather than blame him for who he was. It wouldn't be easy setting aside things they had always believed but if they loved George, they'd try. It wouldn't happen all at once - beliefs like that couldn't be transformed in a day.

THE GREATEST GIFT

CHRISTMAS DAY 2019

George was sitting in the back of his brother's car with Billy; in between them were the twins Janie and Tommy. George's niece and nephew were already nine months old and he doted on them shamelessly.

Harry was driving and his wife (Mary) sat up front conversing quietly while they had the chance. Harry had been well pleased when George had told his big brother their parents were starting to come around. George had further managed to ingratiate himself by revealing he was getting a promotion at work.

"I thought you said you weren't going to get it?" his mum had said two days ago.

Her usual brusque tone was edged out by surprise and pride.

"I didn't think I would because my boss's son also applied," George answered; "But my boss said I was better qualified and deserved it."

George didn't even mind his mothers surprise - he'd been surprised that merit had won out over family too.

"Well done, little brother," Harry said with a nudge.

"Yes. Congratulations," mum added; "You earned it."

Mum moved on to check on the immense amount of food cooking in the kitchen.

"Congratulations you earned it?" Harry said in awe that their mother had just praised George; "Wow, miracles do happen at Christmas."

George laughed and looked around the happy home. Harry's wife was playing games with the twins and Billy was setting the table with dad. Dad was talking about god and Billy talked about ancient philosophers - each just sharing the coolest stories they could think of about their respective heroes.

"Talking of miracles... or maybe mysteries... this was on the doorstep," Harry said.

George took a small rectangular package from Harry and tore the paper off. He laughed when he saw what was inside; laughed so hard it brought tears to his eyes. Mum, dad, Mary, Billy and Harry were gathered around the room watching happy tears spill of George's face.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"I'd like to make a toast," George said, ignoring the question.

Everyone lifted glasses to partake in the gesture.

"To friends and family," George said; "And to the greatest gift; happiness."

"To happiness."

His mother tilted his glass to him and then dad hugged her affectionately. Harry went to Mary and gave her a kiss and Billy lifted his eyes from playing with the twins to offer George a vibrant and heart bursting smile. George crossed the room and leaned over Billy, kissing him. His parents looked away, but that was ok; Harry and Mary smiled and the babies gurgled happily.

"What have you got there?" asked Billy, nodding at the unwrapped gift.

George looked once more at the present in his hand. It was a book, just a book - The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. A bookmark with a little bell on it was slid into the front page, it rang as George opened the cover. Written the inside page was a quote from the book and below it a message...

Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it -- namely, that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain.

Dear George, I hope you enjoy the greatest gift. Maybe happiness wasn't so difficult to attain after all?

Thanks for the wings, Love Angelo.

THE END

To my lovely readers; Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Seasons Greetings. If you love these stories, consider a donation to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

This stand alone story was loosely based on It's A Wonderful Life, itself based on The Greatest Gift by Philip Van Doren Stern. I hope you enjoyed it; I would love to hear your thoughts and comments, they are the greatest gift (couldn't resist): niftyencomiums@gmail.com

For updates on all my work in progress, take a look at my blog: https://niftyencomiums.blogspot.com

I'm developing another Anthology story which I hope to complete in the first half of 2020. It's based on a readers request for a story about a public strip search in an airport climaxing (literally) in front of everyone. I've taken that idea and turned it into a dystopian political story of humiliation for a father and son in an airport. The working title is: Anthology (II) - Assport Control

I've also written four multi-chapter stories:

School Exhibitionism - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/school-exhibitionism

The Symposium - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-symposium/

The Embarrassment of Riches - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/the-embarrassment-of-riches/

Do As You're Told - http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/do-as-youre-told/