Coffee at Nine

Coffee at Nine Chapter 7

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August

"Hey. Sitting here staring out the window. You've sent me two whole texts from your trip. I hope it is going okay."

Two minutes later, Emory texted me back.

"Okay."

"Uh oh. Is that why you've been so quiet? Not having a good time?"

"I wouldn't say that. It's just ... okay. My brother just looks so old to me. Kind of frail. I guess he is 71, but he looks older than that. Not sure what's going on. It's nice to see family though. I guess I was expecting a livelier visit. But I'm glad I'm here."

"Enjoy all you can. You'll appreciate having gone when you get back."

"Thanks. Miss sitting with you today, though."

I sent him a smiley emoji. "By the way, I met someone here after you left two weeks ago. New friend. You'd be proud of me."

"Good for you. Just don't replace me."

I sent a laughing emoji. "My turn to be out next time. I'll be on my trip with Corey."

He sent me a thumbs up.

My coffee was black today. Sitting alone, I didn't care to be rambunctious with some wild flavorings. Black was good.

"No company today?" Brad asked as he roamed by.

"Emory is away. He is using up vacation time before his retirement at the end of the month."

"And your bathroom fella?"

"Bathroom..." I blustered out a guffaw. "He says he comes in later."

"He does. But you two were so cute after your coffee crash."

"Oh, please. Just friends. Don't couple us off yet."

"You say that, but look who's early?"

Brad and I watched Laramie walk by the windows. A minute later he was standing at the edge of the table.

"I hope it is okay if I join you."

"Sure. Good morning, Laramie."

He looked at Brad. "Cappuccino?" Brad nodded.

"How has your last week gone?"

"Busy. And that's good. I saw a surprising dip at the beginning of the year that was unsettling. And now, they are pouring in the doors."

"Fantastic. I promise, I will come see your shop one day."

"Nice. You and your son are about to take off, right?"

"This Saturday. Father/son trip. Ten days."

"Work lets you take longer than a week, huh?"

"Two additional days. I have him the rest of that week. He's old enough to stay alone at my place during the day. I'm not sure I feel good about that. I'll go home each day and have lunch with him. Natalie has let him stay home alone for short periods of time. A parent's mind just starts juggling all sorts of fears, you know?'

"Sadly, having never had kids, I can't relate. I'm sure it's scary."

"I'm excited for the trip though. Mitchell, Corey and I took one last summer. Only a few days, but it was great."

"How are things with you and him right now?"

"Fine. We are enjoying seeing each other. I think he wants to move it along further. He's giving me space, but I'm not sure if I am moving closer to what he wants."

"Sex still good?"

I sighed. "All my friends seem much more comfortable talking about sex than me. But ... yes. Really good."

"Go with it."

"Dare I ask about your sex life?"

"You can ask. I have nothing to tell. The last guy I slept with was in March."

"And where did it lead?"

"Nowhere. It happened twice. We enjoyed it, but we both knew we weren't right for each other. Since then, I've buried myself in work. It seems to keep me occupied."

"When it is right, I'm sure you will be open to it."

"I could be. Sadly, I make a horrible first impression."

"Why do you say that?"

He chuckled. "My track record. It's full of bad luck."

"Bad luck??"

"Well, let's start with my first time with a boy. I was a junior. Growing up on a farm, boys just aren't gay. They aren't. It is never spoken about in a positive light. At least back home. But I got close to a friend. Really close. We were drawn to each other. We were outside in the driveway and started exploring. Just kissing really. But I liked it. And while our hands were on each other, he came on my shorts. He was embarrassed. To be honest, I was probably seconds away from coming in my underwear. I was mortified that I caused him to do that."

"You're very open, Laramie."

"Eh, it's all in the past. We've had dinner. It's not like you are a total stranger."

I would never dream of talking about my sex life with people. Yet, my friends seem to ask and talk about it openly. My upbringing was still engrained in me, I guessed. At least I don't blush talking about it.

Brad brought his cappuccino. Laramie had a five at the corner of the table for him.

"The first time anything sexual really happened was in the barn. Same guy. We were seniors. We were kissing. Then we started feeling each other. I got a blanket, and we took our clothes off and just kissed and felt each other. I loved it. Feeling another guy's cock was a dream. It turned into my first blowjob. Then my brother caught us, and I spent fifteen minutes begging him not to tell my mother and father."

"Oh man. That sucks."

"Yeah." He took a sip. "Let's stop there. It only gets worse."

"Bless your heart."

"I think I'm more of a friend kind of guy than a lover kind of guy."

"Hey! Did your shirt ever come clean? Do I need to pay you for that?"

"It took two washes, but it is fine. You're sweet, but it's fine."

We talked for a half hour. Nothing important, just simple conversation. We talked about things around Jackson Bend. We both seemed to like the city. I talked about Emory a little. A heat wave was forecasted for later in the week, so I was glad to be heading east. He suggested taking Corey to the Staten Island Ferry because it cost nothing, and we could see the Statue of Liberty from it.

It was not a long visit, not nearly as long as our dinner a while back. In the parking lot, we hugged briefly.

"Since you'll be gone a while, want to do dinner Tuesday? Your choice this time."

"I think I can. Is Italian okay?"

"Sure."

"I'll text."

—

Mitchell and I were having lunch. He asked about the upcoming trip. We reminisced about last year and the great time the three of us had. He felt bad that he wasn't coming along on this one.

I had barely mentioned Laramie in the past, but I noted his comment about being caught in the barn. I was about to ask Mitch if he had ever been walked in on ... then reality hit me, and I quickly shut up. I diverted to something else.

"Did your parents ever know you were having sex with a guy at any point?"

"You mean before I came out to them or after?"

"After, I guess. I mean, while you were in the act."

"Gawd no." He took a bite of his BLT, and I could see his eyes roaming pondering the question. "You know, there was a time that was close. A guy I fooled around with in high school came over when I came home from college one weekend. We got home late and instead of going home, he just climbed into bed with me. We kissed, we got naked, we ..." Mitch looked out the door to the hallway. "... we sucked each other off. I made sure we weren't loud. I'm not sure if the plan was for him to go home afterward or if he would duck out in the morning, but I had just come. In his mouth. He was getting close; he was actually kind of loud. I told him to be quiet. Then we heard my parents' door open. I guess Dad couldn't sleep so he turned on the television and watched for a while. I brought him off by hand and kept my mouth sealed to his so as to capture any sound."

I chuckled.

"We waited a little while, then we both fell asleep. We were naked in each other's arms. It was so young and sweet ... at the time. I got up to pee at about 4. We both put our boxers on. I set the alarm for 5:45. Once I had turned it off, he quietly snuck out before they got up."

"You always do like sex quiet."

"I've never thought about it, but I wonder if that's part of it. I heard my parents once — probably sort of freaked me out. Mostly, I find a man's breathing and panting way hotter than any goofy sex talk. I'm not sure why."

"Corey almost caught us that time."

It was Saturday morning. I turned to look at the time. 7:21. I liked to sleep in a little on Saturdays. I hoped for a little more but was doubtful I would fall back asleep. I had to pee. I crawled back under the sheets and wrapped my arm around Mitchell. He felt so warm. I lowered my hand so I could slip it up under his T-shirt. I played with his chest hair a little. I let my fingers run through it like a rake. Then I followed the hair down to where I slipped my fingers below the waistband to his boxers. Mitch had morning wood; he was a club. He rolled toward me to where he was on his back. Mitch opened his eyes to see me smiling above him. We gave a morning kiss. And then another.

My hand went back to groping his dick. He pulled his T-shirt off and threw it to the side of the bed. My hand was fondling his erection aggressively. We kissed some more. After a minute of that I pulled my shirt off and placed it on the nightstand. Mitchell rolled on top of me, and we kissed for several minutes. Loving kisses. Sloppy kisses. As we did so we pressed our hard-ons into one another. We were grinding and writhing as our mouths melded into warm moistness, the tips of our tongues toying with each other. Mitch rolled off me. Both of us reached down and pulled off our boxers. We placed the pair of them between us. Mitchell reached over to grab my cock. His fingers had barely made contact with my skin.

Corey knocked but burst through the door a second later. My 12-year-old son headed straight for us. Startled, I pulled the sheet up as high on our torsos as I could quickly yank. Corey climbed into the bed and maneuvered between us. His weight stretched the sheet tighter, and I could see both Mitchell's and my cocks tenting the cotton material. Quickly, I rearranged my body and the sheets; I sat up a little. I was panicked. Curiously, Mitchell seemed more amused at my awkwardness than his own risky participation in our scenario.

We talked about the day's plans as casually and nonchalantly as we could. I told him to go fix some cereal and we would get an early start. When I heard him in the kitchen, I wriggled my arm for my boxers. With a T-shirt back on, I strolled out to the kitchen.

"Is cereal okay?"

"Sure."

Mitchell went into the shower.

"You were so shocked," Mitch laughed.

"I know. One day, he's really going to have a lot of questions. We've had a couple of cringey father/son talks already, but I know the serious stuff is coming. Boy, I dread that."

"Since you will have him for two weeks, I guess you and I won't be able to see each other."

"Yeah. No sex for a while. I went six months without it, and now six days seems like an eternity."

"How about Thursday night?"

"Yes," I said immediately.

No matter what my emotions were debating with, my sex drive was totally onboard with reconnecting with Mitchell. Eventually, one or the other would need to win out. Mitchell at least deserved that much. I couldn't just "need space" indefinitely. In the meantime, I was keeping the sex.

—

Laramie twirled spaghetti with meat sauce on his fork. My manicotti was delicious. We were both enjoying our meal. I had driven by the house and told him of the small progress over dinner. I asked him about things I'd like to see in the library.

"Will they subcontract with me?" he asked. "I'd love to do it. I know some builders are very strict about their own crews."

"I will investigate. These guys were very upfront about working with the client to make sure I was completely satisfied. Let's see what I can arrange."

I told him of the activities I had planned for our boys trip. He seemed interested enough and thought a young teenager should enjoy it.

"Text me a picture now and then. I'm going to kind of miss you."

I smiled at him. "Me too. I appreciate you being a friend I can talk to. How big is your circle of friends, Laramie?"

"Um ... not big. Not big at all. I have two people that work with me. One is too young to really hang out with. The other has fantastic carpentry skills. He's great. Single. Straight. He knows about me and is cool with it. We might grab a drink every now and then. We can talk sports, work, I will occasionally listen to him talk about women — he's all talk though — and pinball, believe it or not."

"Pinball?"

"Yeah. We're both kind of junkies. We have one in the back of the shop. We tinker with repairs from time to time but haven't in months. Our own machine seems to serve more as a table now than a piece of recreation. Occasionally we'll go and just play machines and quaff a few beers."

"Well, that sounds nice. Fun."

"Yeah." He paused. "I like Miles. We enjoy each other's company. But ... I can't really unload everything on him. I try to keep the gay stuff at bay."

"But he's okay with you being gay."

"Yeah. He is. I just don't know how much he wants to hear, you know?" Laramie wiped his mouth on a napkin. "Boyfriends, relationships, breakups ... hot guys ... that kind of thing — I steer clear. That's why it is nice to talk to you. Honestly."

"I get that."

"My last boyfriend — serious boyfriend anyway — was kind of like that in a way. I loved him; he loved me, but he wasn't too comfortable being out of the closet. We didn't mesh with many gay friends. Or he didn't. He could be himself with his friends that he was out to, but not many others. He was closeted at work. Liked the gay bars but didn't let himself be his true self elsewhere. He wouldn't even talk about me with his family. He was 28 and still not out with them. Eventually, we both knew we didn't fit. Even though we felt strongly toward each other, we were in different places. It was amicable. Still kind of sad."

"I'm sorry."

"It is what it is."

"You mentioned someone in March?"

"A customer, actually."

"Really!?"

"I finished a project in his house. As I looked around, there were things that clearly told me he was gay. He noticed me looking at certain items and got the picture. He asked me out, believe it or not. Dinner a couple of times, then I stayed over one Saturday night."

"And?"

"Nice. No real fireworks, but nice. We tried to find some common interests to go out and do things. He wasn't getting near two-step, and I was a fish with a bicycle at the symphony. There was a level of sophistication that he had that I don't think he thought I did. He wasn't a snob or anything, but we both felt uncomfortable in each other's worlds. We had sex a second time. Better, but we knew it wasn't enough. We just let each other go."

"A shame. I guess just keeping a friendship wasn't in the cards."

"Not us. Two nice guys that just didn't fit together. I'm not sure what kind I fit with exactly."

"I have felt the same. Mitch and I are just so good together. Damn him for wrecking it. But ... I'm trying."

"You're fucking, so you are more than trying," he said with a grin, his eyes looking over a pilsner of beer.

"True. We've made steps."

In the parking lot, we hugged, acknowledging we would see each other in the month ahead. I kissed him on the cheek in my goodbye. I could tell by his expression that my gesture surprised him. I got in my car first. As I pulled from my spot, I saw him get into his car; he touched his cheek as he pulled the door shut.

—

"Hi, I'm Cooper. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Cooper," the group replied.

"I'm taking my son on a vacation for close to 10 days. It will be the longest I will have ever gone without a meeting. I know there is one happening in every town probably. We're out there, right? I feel confident and strong that I can make it that long, but I have made notes of a couple places that can help while I'm away. The good thing is that I will have my son with me the whole time; that will be a source of strength.

"While I am away, I can really reflect on my feelings and how far I have come with Mitch. When I look at it month by month, I've really made progress. But I still question on how to get over the final hurdle. What does it take to get over that last forgiveness stumbling block? For me it is a mental picture that I cannot erase. And that scares me.

"But more than anything, I feel good, I feel excited about my trip.

"Thank you."

The group clapped.

—

Mitchell panted into my ear. His breathing was so strong. He slightly grunted as he gasped for air with each thrust. I felt each shove of his crotch into my ass. His chest was pressed heavy on my back. I bore the entire weight of his body as he fucked me. I loved feeling him on top of me.

"Coop," he whispered into my ear. He bit on it gently. "Coop, baby." His tongue danced in my ear as he breathed into it. "Coop, I'm coming baby."

His hands clutched mine. We held them tightly below my chest. His waist thrust and thrust into my ass. In that moment, I felt good. His seed was dripping within me. It felt hot. After Mitchell stopped coming, he left his penis inside me. Like a man-filled weighted blanket, his body covered me. I heard his breathing go from heavy to recovering to normal. His lips explored the back of my sweaty neck. Still pressed against me, he kissed my neck over and over. I would feel his erection shoved occasionally into me, trying to feel the sensations of orgasm prolonged just a bit longer.

Then he rolled off. He took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. "Thank you."

When I rolled onto my back, he moved closer. His lips were sealed to mine in a passionate kiss. For minutes we kissed while he pulled and stroked on my erection. It had lost its stiffness while I was being fucked, but knowing he was about to climax made me hard again near the end. Mitch pumped my iron rod. The kissing made it hotter, much more sensual. My arm pulled his shoulders tighter into me. His arm jerked my cock harder. Mitch knew my rhythms. Even though my hips began to wriggle, he didn't break the kiss. I hummed into his mouth as my throbbing cock became ignited, swarmed with heat and pulsing energy. Mitch knew I was close. His method was precise — the sealed kiss, the jackhammer pounding, the shared moan between us. My back arched; my hips lifted.

The first stream of cum exploded landing on both our cheeks. The following waves sprayed my chest. Pulse after pulse coated me. His lips released mine so that we both could breathe. My body shuddered.

"Oh man," I gasped as his fist jerked the last drops of semen oozing from my cock. After a deep gasp, I simply said, "Wow."

He wiped the splash of cum off his cheek. He took that hand and spread my entire load into a shimmery sheen on my chest. His hand was coated and sticky, my chest was glistening.

After one final kiss, he asked, "What made you want to bottom tonight? That isn't usually your thing."

"It had been a year. And I'm going away. If I'm not going to have sex for a long time, I figured why not commit to the biggest leap of all."

"Wonderful. I thought it was great." His sticky hand grabbed mine. We held them together. "I love how you come. It's amazing."

"You shot past the towel a month ago."

"For me, that was a milestone," he chuckled.

We continued to lie there. My ass already hurt. I knew tomorrow was going to be unpleasant. Not that I regretted my decision. It was intense, and Mitch was really good at making it as pleasurable as possible. When we were together, I would bottom a few times a year, plus "special occasions."

"I'm really a mess. I need to clean up. Both of us should."

We stood at the bathroom wiping and cleaning. I stared at his dick and thought of his cum inside me. I grew quiet.

It took quite a bit of cleaning to get all the cum he had smeared into me. I wanted to feel fresh and just didn't. As I finally felt like my semen had given up its last fight, I turned to him.

"Mitch, have I done something risky?"

"Huh?"

"You came inside me. Should that concern me in any way? Should I want you to take a test?"

Mitch's expression was the quintessential example of looking like one had seen a ghost. He was quiet, his face was white. He stared into his own eyes into the mirror.

"Oh."

"Should I? Did I make a mistake?"

"No. It's fine."

"I know I was number 19. Obviously there has been a 20. What's it up to? 21? 22? 30?"

"Good grief, no."

"But ...?"

He looked down. "21."

"Mmm."

"We used condoms."

"Whatever happened to 20? When I stormed out of the apartment, did you all finish?"

"Not then, no."

"But ... sometime later. You did it again."

"You and I had been broken up two months. He approached me again. I'm sorry. I did. It was pent-up; you and I weren't together. When I was done, it reminded me of my mistake, and I hated myself all over again. That's when I pushed for us to make it work."

"And where does 21 fit in?"

"Cooper. Please. Let's not do this. Let's let you leave for your trip with us both feeling good about tonight. We're working on it. We're a good fit again. Let's just ... be a good fit."

Were we? Ten minutes ago my sore ass might have said we were. Now my ass was questioning the validity of our relationship. Nothing had changed in the last ten minutes. It changed eight months ago.

Damn.

—

"Morning, champ. You asleep?"

"No. I'm too excited. I've been awake for about 20 minutes."

"Me too. I'm showered and ready. How about you take one and we'll scarf down breakfast and hit the road."

The car was loaded, and I had ample snacks, music and devices to keep us occupied. We had a long drive ahead.

Any parent would be concerned about long drives with kids. Somehow, I hit the jackpot with Corey. He was easily entertained with books, his cell phone and oftentimes just with things out the window. We had great conversations. Distracted by the surroundings of our drive, it felt like we could talk about anything. We didn't approach any topics that were too deep, but he opened up a little about living with Natalie, his last year in middle school and for the first time — dating. As trees, hills and buildings raced by our windows, I could be simple and honest. He asked me if I would start dating again. I felt it time to tell him that Mitchell and I were seeing each other again, but I made sure he knew we weren't planning on getting back together again, at least as far as moving in. We were just seeing how it went. And I told him that was the whole idea behind dating. To see who you like and what you enjoy doing with each other.

Being away from Natalie for a week, we threw away all common sense and pulled into a roadside stop that looked like it had great milkshakes, a huge candy store and a toy figure museum. They were simple diversions that I thought Corey would remember for years to come. We took several selfies even though most of the first day was spent in the car.

"I'm sorry we couldn't fly, buddy," I told him, chewing on some saltwater taffy as I drove. "With closing costs and the down payment on the house, I needed to trim expenses in a few places. But we'll still have a great time."

"I don't mind driving. I think our pitstops have been fun."

"They have. But don't tell your mother."

He smiled at that.

"We're about two hours away from our hotel. We'll have less driving tomorrow."

"Okay. Can I text Mom a shot of our milkshakes?"

"Surely, she will allow us a milkshake. Don't send pics of the candy store though. It's only Day One. We don't want her to get mad."

He smiled some more.

As night fell, we pulled into a hotel in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania. It was only 9; we could have gone further, but I didn't know how many diversions (or delays) we would have during the day. We were both tired from driving, so it was all fine.

"We have raised a good son," I texted Natalie. "He's such a good traveling companion. Not a single complaint."

"You guys have fun." Then she followed: "Don't eat too much junk food."

"What are you implying?"

"Implying?? I know you two. Seriously. Don't overdo it."

"Yes, Mom." I sent that with a smiley emoji.

—

Because of our early start at 8, we were making good time. GPS got us to what I thought would be a quirky moment for Corey.

"What is this place?" he asked.

In York there is a roadside diversion called the Haines Shoe House. A shoe tycoon built a house in the shape of a shoe. People can actually stay in it.

"It's a shoe house," I said.

"Does someone live here?"

"I imagine someone did when it was built. Now I think you stay in it like a hotel."

"Wow. Weird."

We took a couple of pictures from the vantage point we could.

"Cool," he said, as we got into the car.

Once in Philadelphia, we saw the Liberty Bell. We sent a selfie of us to Natalie. We made sure to get a Philly cheesesteak while in town. Locals are divided between Pat's and Geno's, but we got the sense that Pat's was the original, so we found it.

"I'd like to go by the art museum so we can run up the stairs like Rocky," I said.

"Who's Rocky?"

"WHO'S ROCKY!!?? Dear heavens, how do you not know who Rocky Balboa is?"

He shrugged. There was actually a statue of Rocky near the museum steps. I explained the movies to him.

Corey was interested in seeing the art museum. It was our only real expense for the day, so I thought it a good idea. We spent about 90 minutes inside. I was impressed that Corey had learned more in his classes than I thought an almost-14-year-old would know. He spoke intelligently about art. We had spirited debates over what was good and what wasn't, but he could back up his opinions on why he liked something. Better than me, at least. At one point I put my arm around him and placed my hand on his shoulder. He gently put his arm around my waist. I saw a set of parents with a fidgeting child glance at us. If their eyes conveyed anything, it was "envy."

I pulled him close into me. "When was the last time I told you I loved you?"

"Uh. Lunch?"

"Well. I still do."

"Good to know, Dad." I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was smiling. "You're so weird."

"That takes work, you know."

—

We had crossed over into New Jersey for our hotel stay. We were only about 30 minutes from the theme park, so we should be one of the first ones there in the morning.

I texted a picture of the two of us with Rocky to Emory.

"Did you send that to Mom?" he asked as he walked by me.

"Emory."

"Who's Emory?"

"He's a gentleman who I have coffee with on Sunday mornings when you are at your house with your mother."

"Why don't you go when I stay with you?"

"Duh! You're with me."

"You could take me."

"So. Are you a coffee drinker now?"

"I dunno. Maybe. You aren't ashamed to take me, are you?"

"Heavens no." I stopped to look at him in the face. "I've never been ashamed of you for a single second. You're a great son."

"Then... take me sometime."

I thought about it. Nothing was really scary about Joe, but it was filled with gay men. I didn't think anything would freak him out, but easing a kid into the gay world ... was it something I was up to? I would be the one to freak out.

—

We drove into the parking lot of Six Flags Great Adventure 45 minutes before the park opened. We wanted to be among the earliest guests let in. As soon as we drove into the main parking lot, Kingda Ka towered above the skyline. I wasn't too nervous, but a 456-foot-tall roller coaster is kind of intimidating. Prior to the official opening time, guests were beginning to enter, but allowed in up to a certain point. A rope would drop at the official time. We quickly darted to a bathroom to make sure we would be there for the rope drop.

"Are we ready for this? How many coasters have you been on?" I asked.

"Three," Corey said.

"And now you want to conquer the tallest one in the world??!"

"Oh heck, they all go up, they all go down. It's just more fun, right?"

"I don't know if you are braver than me or just younger than me and don't know better."

He laughed at me.

The rope dropped, and we were instructed to not run. We walked very quickly. After about one minute, the crowd started hoofing it. Groups divided down different walkways going to different rides. We followed the signs. Once we got to the entrance, an attendant said the ride was temporarily closed for technical adjustments. Corey's face must have been horrifying because she quickly comforted him that it would begin testing soon and that we should keep an eye out on it. We said we would. Nearby was another massive roller coaster called El Toro. We queued up and only had to wait ten minutes because it was still early. The restraints were quite snug. We both looked at each other and said, "We're not going anywhere." It was a gigantic wooden roller coaster and the first drop looked impossibly steep. The dive took our breath away, not to mention our stomachs. The hills that followed all but tried to fling us out. When the train came to a screaming halt on the brake run, we looked at each other with wide eyes and big grins.

"What'd you think?" I asked.

"I see why the restraints are tight!" He laughed. "That was awesome. We have to do it again today."

I agreed. After exiting, we heard a roar and looked over to Kingda Ka. We saw a train climb to the top and go over. We made a quick trot back over to its entrance. The chain was still up, but a line had formed. People were eager for it to open. We watched another test run. It looked fast. We looked at the park guide. It said trains were launched at 128 mph.

"Man. Can a human body stand that?" I asked.

We were about to find out. The chain dropped and we began to move into the queue. It took us about 15 minutes for our turn to board the train. As it moved out of the station and onto the launch track, my pulse quickened.

"Why are we doing this!?" I yelled.

"You're going to love it," Corey said. I was so proud of him. Where did he get this courage from?

In under four seconds our train accelerated from zero to 128 mph. We sizzled over the track. Then we were navigated skyward, straight up. At the apex of the tower, the train started to crest, giving us a glimpse of the entire planet for a brief second. Then our train curved into a 90-degree dive straight down. Somehow it made a spiral twist in the plunge. Once again, we were hitting amazing speeds well over a hundred. Then magnetic brakes brought us to a stop.

"That. Was. Cool!" I said.

"It was. I liked it. But I liked El Toro better."

"Me too. It was longer."

—

Corey and I had a blast all day. I was a bit disgruntled at the prices of food and drink, but in a captive-audience vacation destination, that is to be expected. We rode numerous rides, several of which were all different kinds of roller coasters. I put my foot down when it came to getting drenched. I was willing to be splashed on the log ride (which we loved), but not completely soaked.

We took several pictures. We texted a couple to Natalie. She replied that she was glad we were having a good time. I made a real cheesy pose in front of Kingda Ka and sent it to Mitchell. He loved it. Corey sent him a few more. Emory sent a text that we were insane when he saw how tall Kingda Ka was.

As we moved through one of the queue lines, I momentarily thought someone in line was Henry Kammerdiener at first glance. It wasn't, but he reminded me of my high school friend. I found myself looking at him as we zigzagged back and forth in the queue rails. The fact that he had a low-cut tank top didn't help. A nice mat of fine brown chest hair made him more alluring to me. His legs were muscular and handsome. At one point we made eye contact. I just simply smiled. He had Henry's eyes.

Ten years ago, or even five, I wouldn't have been so captivated by another man. I might have noticed someone who was handsome, but I would divert my attention to Natalie or Corey. I wouldn't dwell on it. I had gotten so good at suppressing my deeper feelings. Now it was so obvious. I couldn't help but stare. I had no hesitation in admitting I was gay. I embraced it. I loved looking at men.

I texted a picture of Corey and me with Sylvester the mascot to Laramie.

"Love it! You three have fun!" he replied. Two minutes later I heard his next text come in. "I will miss you Sunday." I replied with a smiley emoji.

Corey and I were exhausted. It was a tough call deciding if our favorite ride was Nitro or El Toro. I said we needed T-shirts. We looked at ones with the park name on it, but we opted to both buy the El Toro shirts. It would probably be the last time the two of us would own something that matched. I knew I would cherish the memory of us enjoying our day. Forever. I hoped he would too.

—

We had brushed our teeth and were ready to turn in.

"Today was great, Dad. Thank you."

"I had a blast too. Good night, son. Love you."

"Love you too."

I stared at the ceiling awash in the gray tones of night. I thought about the man in the queue. My hand slipped into the waistband of my shorts and gripped my penis. As much as I was loving being with Corey, that aspect of the week might feel long. Not only could I not have sex, but I also couldn't ... do anything.

A truck in the parking lot woke me up at 2:37. After staring at the clock, I got up to pee. When I washed my hands, I grabbed the washcloth next to the sink.

My breathing was heavy but not too loud. I neatly folded the washcloth with my cum on it and set it on the nightstand next to the clock. It was 2:52. I was back asleep before the clock reached 3 o'clock.

—

We traveled into New York City via public transportation. Corey was enamored with the subway. He found it fascinating. I noticed him staring at the maps and figuring out where we needed to transfer. He really was a with-it kid. He didn't see me smiling at him, but I was proud of his ability to adapt to new situations.

We took a ton of pictures and selfies. We texted a lot home. I made sure Emory received one of us on the Staten Island Ferry with the Statue of Liberty in the background. My favorites were on The Vessel. I sent a couple of those to Natalie. Laramie liked the ones from Times Square. We sent Mitchell one from the Empire State Building.

I wasn't sure if Corey would be into museums or not. He mentioned he would prefer The Modern over The Metropolitan, so that was fine. We would do that on the next day. The first day in the city was just walking and looking. We did the museum on our second day. It was fun to talk and discuss the art. He had his specific opinions, but he could back them up. It wasn't just random. For the first time, Corey seemed hip to me. I suddenly could picture him with long hair, goatee and a college student vibe within a circle of friends. I asked him if we could see the 9/11 Memorial. He knew about it but didn't have a real sense of what that day — or week — was like. We sat down and talked about it. He said he was willing to go. Parts of it were fairly dark, but Corey was okay with it. Certain parts of it interested him. He was intrigued with the timeline of that morning. I told him where I was and what I was doing when it all took place. I still got the shivers thinking about that day.

—

On Thursday we went to a waterpark in the Poconos. It was called Camelbeach, and it was a great time. I was exhausted after a day in the sun. Thankfully, we had remembered sunscreen, so our skin escaped relatively unscathed. Of all the days of the trip, there was something about being in the water that screamed "summer." Although tired, it was another great day but one with fewer photos.

It was also the day where I saw a lot of shirtless men. Although I had reconnected with Mitchell, I found myself staring. We hadn't made an exclusive commitment — well, he was wanting that back — but I was okay checking out the sights. It's not like I would have acted on anything with Corey right next to me. I thought he saw me looking over a dark-haired man. His hairy chest and gorgeous legs were making my gaze linger.

One slide had rafts that seated four to five people. The ride attendant asked if Corey and I could ride with another group of two. We said that was fine. As the four of us gathered in a raft, it happened to be another father and son. As all of us crossed our legs, my foot rested alongside the hairy leg of the father.

God, I needed sex.

As the evening fell, we rinsed and changed clothes in the dressing room. Without staring, I was still able to look at a few dicks. I tried not to get hard in front of my son. Just as my cock started to rise, I was able to slip on my briefs. Jeans then concealed my bulge. Not five feet from me was a gorgeous cock. I had never been a real connoisseur of penises, but this one was one I loved looking at. Cut, five inches soft, beautiful manscaping but still hairy and masculine.

God, I needed sex.

—

Friday was off-and-on rain. That was unfortunate. We dropped down to Washington D.C. We walked a bit around the National Mall. As we strolled from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial, we managed to avoid the rain. That was lucky. When we got back to the car, the skies opened up again.

Our visit was a bit shorter than I would have liked, but it still exposed Corey to our nation's Capital.

—

We had a long drive home, so the weekend was dedicated to that. I still strived to be "fun dad" when I could with fun pitstops and food places that seemed more memorable than the fast food chains. Midafternoon, I treated us to ice cream at a roadside stop.

After we had washed our hands, used the bathroom and took a selfie with a giant ice cream cone, we were back on the road.

Corey was often quiet, but he seemed more so after that. It wasn't that he was engaged with a book or tablet or a map; he was just quiet.

"You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah. Why?"

"I don't know. You just seem quiet."

"I'm fine."

We drove another five minutes in silence. I didn't press. The driving was easier since the weather had improved over the day before. I think we had seen our fair share of scenery, so we weren't necessarily interested in much along the day's drive.

"Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Well, of course, buddy. You can tell me anything or ask me anything anytime. Always."

"I noticed you looking at that man at the ice cream shop."

"What man?"

"The father of those two young girls."

Crap.

"Umm. And ..." I uttered, not knowing where to go with this.

"I was just wondering. I saw it happen a few times during the trip. At home, I guess our weekends together are a lot of you and me doing stuff on our own. I've never really noticed you looking at other guys before."

Crap.

"I didn't realize I did that back there." (God, I needed sex.) "Did it make you feel bad or anything?"

"No. No, I'm okay with you being gay and everything..."

I was SO fortunate to have a mature kid.

"... but I just wondered how you ... kind of figured it out. How did you know you were into guys?"

Damn. That was a tricky question. Was he trying to understand me? Did he have questions about himself? I wasn't sure where Corey was going with this. I wanted my response to be comforting, reassuring, honest ... hmm. And what exactly was that reply?

"Well," I started. "Uh. Do you remember the talk we had after that special class in fifth grade?"

Mitch was out clothes shopping. Corey and I were wrapping up the dishes and cleaning following lunch.

"Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Cor'. What is it?"

"We had a ... weird class at school this week. Well, not weird, but they pulled all the boys out."

Uh oh. We were having this conversation. This should be awkward hell.

"I see. Go on."

"I remember you and Mom telling me how men and women could decide to have a baby. You told me ... well, how that was done. Kind of the parts you use."

"Um hm."

"There were some pictures. Well, not pictures. Drawings, illustrations. They showed the ... things ... involved."

I was in hell.

"Okay."

"Well, my ... thing ... doesn't look like that. Is something wrong with me?"

Hell. Agonizing hell.

"No. Each guy has his own ... penis. They all are different. But they all work the same. Kind of like color of eyes or hair ... they're different, but the same. I don't have a large penis, but ... your mom and I made you, right?"

"I guess."

A hell of eternal damnation.

"When a man and woman decide they want a baby, the penis gets long and stiff. When it enters the woman, they ... "

HELL!

"... they, uh, it is an enjoyable thing to do. People call it `having sex.' Because it feels good, adults enjoy doing this, even if they aren't planning to have a baby. There are practices they can do so that babies only happen when they are ready."

"Like what?"

Satan himself had opened his wings and dragged me into the eternal flames of hell.

For a few minutes, I explained birth control and the various things adults could do. I tried to talk about the responsibility that goes along with having sex. And the dangers. The dangers he needed to know. Maybe that would delay him from having sex for ... forever.

"What about Mitchell? You both are guys? He doesn't have what a woman does."

Damn.

"Correct. He and I can't have a baby that way."

"So the two of you can't have sex."

My skin had turned to black, smoldering ash from existing in the hellfire.

"Well, we can still enjoy sex in a different way. It is still pleasurable, it is just ... different. Kind of like ... you can have fun swimming, or you can have fun playing dodgeball. Both are fun exercise, but you just do them differently."

That was a lame answer. I wasn't good at off-the-cuff responses. I wasn't quick on my feet.

"Oh. Okay."

"Are you good?"

"I guess."

I could have left it at that, but I was the father. I should be better about educating my son.

"In the next few years, you will feel your penis get bigger. It will feel hard. It's called an erection. When males pull and tug on it, it feels really good. This is natural. It is getting your body ready for ... whenever you want to have kids as an adult. Did the class or film tell you about sperm?"

"Yeah. I think. It swims out of the man into the woman and joins with an egg inside her."

"Uh. Right." I could have left it alone right there. "When it comes out, it feels really good for the man."

"Is that the orgasm?"

My body was but a wisp of black smoke adrift in the fiery inferno that had consumed me entirely. I was slightly sweating as my entire being was being destroyed, burned a molecule at a time in the raging blaze of hell.

"Yes. That's the orgasm. Then your penis is regular again. When this happens, don't be scared. All boys feel this growing up. It's part of growing up. But it is a very, very private thing. It's not nice to ask other people about personal things, and you shouldn't let others ask you about your private moments. It's natural but private. But you can always talk to me, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

Corey went to his room. If there had been anything alcoholic in the apartment, I would have consumed every drop.

"I remember," Corey said. "A few weeks later I asked if you and Mitchell used `the parts to go to the bathroom' to be romantic. Good grief; I was such a dumb kid."

"No, you weren't. Like every kid, you had questions. I'm sure by now you have probably had ... erections. You know, where your penis is hard. Maybe when you wake up?"

"Um. I guess." Corey turned red.

"Right. All boys do. Anyway, when your body gets that way, they sometimes call that being `hot for someone' if you are thinking about somebody when your body does that. A lot of guys in high school and college get that way around girls. And I didn't. I thought they were nice and pretty and everything, but ... I didn't get that way. I thought your mother was very pretty, and I liked being with her. She was nice. So I guessed I would eventually feel hot for her. But, son, I didn't. I loved your mother; a part of me always will. But I thought I was lying to her. Several years ago, I started feeling bad about what I was feeling. I used to just try to push it away — like being afraid of dogs or something — but it just got stronger. I felt myself getting ... attracted ... when I looked at other men. I wanted to be with them. I wanted to be romantic with them. And then ... I thought it was all wrong. I didn't like myself much. I felt like I was hurting everyone and was a bad person. So I started drinking to make me feel better. But it didn't."

"Oh. Okay. I guess I understand that."

"I'm not proud of myself for that. I hate that I wasn't a good dad for those years. I REALLY regret it. I'm so sorry you had to put up with the person I was then."

"But you're awesome now."

I looked at him. I didn't have to say it. My eyes alone said, "I love you so much." I patted his hand.

"Once I decided I needed to tell the truth, I got better. I stopped drinking, and I was honest about who I was. I was a gay man, and I didn't want to lie."

"So ... you got hot around other guys. That's why you look at them. They make you hot."

"Well, it's not that I want to get that way. A person just tends to look at someone they might want to be romantic with. People are attracted to a type they like. Some men aren't attractive to me at all."

"That's why people have sex."

"Wait. Your mother and I didn't have sex until we were married. Some people wait, and some people don't. No one can make your decision for you. You have to do it."

"I think Mom would be mad if I did it."

"You're not even 14 yet."

"Next month."

"But anyway, no, this is too soon. Some of your friends in high school might; some might in college, some might be like your mother and me and wait until marriage."

"So how do you know?"

"Again, only you can make that decision. My advice — and that's all it is — is sex should only be between people who are special to each other. You should love someone. Sex shouldn't be something reckless or random — like laser tag or go-karts. It should be something important. For some people, it's not, and people get hurt."

"Like Mitchell hurt you."

Crap.

"Yes. Like Mitchell hurt me. He just had sex with someone whom he didn't love. It wasn't special; the two of us were supposed to be committed to each other. And he cheated on me. That's when you have sex with someone else."

"I know that."

"It hurt me. I loved him ... and he cheated on me."

"Is that why you and Mom split?"

Damn.

"Your mother and I are a more complicated story."

"I don't understand."

"We loved each other, but in time, the mushy stuff started to go away. We adored you and were good parents for you, but I was probably pulling away. Some. I imagine I felt like I was living a lie after a while. I just didn't like it. I didn't like me."

"That must have been hard. Were you scared?"

"You know, I probably was. At the time I felt more ... trapped. The right thing was to stay with your mom, but I felt like I was lying. Once I admitted the true feelings weren't going to go away, I tried to drown everything by drinking, and that's when it fell apart. Mitch approached me at work. I knew what I wanted, and then your mother and I started talking about splitting. Man, it must have been so hard for you. I'm so sorry we put you through that, buddy."

Corey didn't say anything. What could he say? "Oh, that's okay, Dad" wasn't an honest answer. Divorce is a nightmare for a kid. He just stared out the windshield. I knew my face was twisted in pain.

"At first, I thought you and Mom would fix it," he said, still looking out the windshield. "I was just going to wait. After a few months, I knew that wasn't going to happen. When you introduced me to Mitchell, it sunk in. But I liked him. I saw you happy. I hadn't in a long, long time. You weren't drinking. You just looked better. It was then that I knew you and Mom weren't ever going to get back together, but I felt better."

"I am SO sorry, honey. I know all that is hard on a kid. All this adult stuff is just a whole lot of crap at times. Both of us always loved you. You know that, right?"

He nodded.

"Mitch did too. I know he realized when he messed things up between the two of us, he broke your heart too."

"So how are the two of you now?"

"Yikes. That's a hard one, bud. I'm trying to forgive. We're working on it. Right now, we are pretty good, but it's not like it was. I worry about it happening again ... and that's not a good thing. I have to figure out how to get past it."

"Do you love him?"

"I never stopped loving him. It's the hurt that I have to move around. I'm not doing a great job at that. But, yes, I love him. I just have to decide if I can picture us again like we used to be. Right now, it's just like we are dating. We aren't moving in with each other. Yet anyway."

We were pouring our hearts out. It was such an adult conversation. It was made easier by the fact that we were both looking out the windshield. It's funny how that made it easier to talk, when we didn't really have to look at each other. I was glad Corey could open up to me. This conversation wasn't near the hellish ones I had in the past. I felt fine.

"So, how many of your friends in middle shcool had boyfriends and girlfriends?" I asked.

"Some."

"What about you?"

"Not yet. I might this year. I don't know. It makes me nervous."

"Welcome to the real world, buddy. Everyone gets nervous."

He chuckled.

—

As we waited on dinner to be delivered, I let him call Natalie. Corey did all the talking. He spoke highly of the trip talking about all the highlights. I felt good that we had bonded even more than ever this week. I felt closer to him. We talked enough today. However, I knew I would need to talk about dating responsibly in the months ahead. I wanted to teach him to be a gentleman when dating.

Before turning in, I texted Natalie. "We raised a good kid. I'm proud of him."

"Me too. Glad you guys have had a good time. Drive safe."

—

It was dark when we got home the next night. We were exhausted from being in the car for two days. The drive home seemed longer. We were glad to see Jackson Bend finally arrive.

I texted Mitchell. "We're home safe and sound."

"Great. Glad you made it safe. The texts made it look like a good time."

"It was. I'm exhausted. I missed you."

"Aw, thanks."

"I've taken off tomorrow. I think Corey would enjoy seeing you. Want to have dinner with us?"

"I'd love that."

"How about staying over?"

"With him there?"

"Yeah. We're good at quiet sex. I want you. I need you."

He sent me a heart emoji.

—

Corey and I swam at the apartment pool. He seemed excited to see Mitchell this evening. I was too. We played competition games with floating objects — shooting a ball at a floating hoop, making splashes to race items across the pool, who could swim the farthest with something balanced on our heads.

In the afternoon, we went to look at the house. It was starting to look like a house. It was still far from finished, but you got a sense of where things were to be. The two of us were getting excited.

I fixed spaghetti for dinner. Mitchell and Corey were fine with that. We jazzed it up with bowls of toppings: parmesan, fresh mushrooms, sausage, onions and green peppers. It had kind of a pizza vibe to it.

We spent an hour looking at photos from the trip, and Corey enthusiastically talked about his favorite parts. It warmed my heart to hear him speak so highly of it.

Before going to bed, we discussed the next day. Even though I would be returning to work, Corey felt okay about being home alone. I didn't. I was confident I would be a nervous wreck. But he was older now, almost 14.

Corey planned on staying up with a Blu-ray. I was okay with that. I knew it would provide enough volume to overpower any noise Mitch and I might make. We were skilled at quieter sex, but we both knew we were having sex. No question.

Climbing into bed, we looked at each other's face.

"I missed you," he said.

"Same here. I thought about us being together in bed several times on the trip."

"Good to know."

We kissed. I reached for the lights. As darkness took over the room, we continued to kiss for several minutes. I was rock hard. I reached for his briefs. He was too. I stopped kissing him for a moment to throw the covers off. Our bodies were exposed; I could feel a gentle breeze from the ceiling fan above us. I leaned up to pull his briefs off his legs. I couldn't see his cock in the darkness, but my hand quickly found it. I groped it for a short moment. It felt so good. Then my mouth found it. Mitch exhaled.

"Coop," he softly said.

I became adventurous. I slightly moaned but slurped louder than anything else. The volume of the living room television would easily drown out our sounds of lovemaking. I sucked his cock like there was no tomorrow. I had so much pent-up libido from staring at guys on the vacation. I needed this. I was enjoying giving the blowjob to Mitchell more than Mitch was receiving it. I was certain of that. His dick in my mouth was exquisite.

After a few minutes, he pulled my shoulders up from his body, bringing me up to his face. We kissed some more.

"I was getting close. Let's make this last longer. Fuck me," he said.

"With Corey here?"

"We can do it."

I was out of my boxers. Mitch yanked on my cock for a minute. His grip was heaven. His touch was heaven. His tongue tracing my length was heaven.

I grabbed a hand towel from the bathroom, then got the lube from the nightstand. Mitch rolled to his stomach, and then I stretched out the rest of the towel. The bottle lay at the edge. My slick fingers worked inside him. His ass wriggled as I prepared him for my entrance. His breathing was heavy as he gripped my fingers with his ass muscles.

"Fuck me," he softly said.

My erection was lubed and ready. I dried my hand and then positioned my cock. It went in gently. Seconds later I was all the way in. He exhaled a slight cry of pleasure.

I placed my bodyweight atop him and started with a slow rhythm. I was working into his ass, building up my momentum. My hands worked underneath him to grip his pecs. We were quiet in terms of Corey hearing us, but our breathing was as loud as could be. This position was one of our favorites. He liked feeling both crushed and fucked. I enjoyed thrusting my hips, pounding my dick into him. We enjoyed the rhythmic fuck for several minutes. I had been yearning for sex for over a week. I was loving it.

"You feel so good in me," he whispered.

"I love being inside you," I returned.

Mitchell began to softly whine as my thrusting continued. We were both in a good place — sexual, loving, appreciative, connected. The veins inside my dick were throbbing. It was building. My hands gripped his chest below him. My fingers pulsed lust into his hair-covered skin. The pleasurable sensations escalated in enthralling my groin.

"I'm getting close, baby," I softly said.

"Come in me, Coop," he directed, louder than I would expect him to be.

I moved up to my elbows. My arms felt strong. My hips continued to work, shoving my cock into his depths. It was eupophoric feeling my flesh inside his body.

My face was no longer next to his, but he could still hear me panting. It was heavy; it bordered on gasping.

"Oh, Mitch. Oh yeah."

"Yeah, Cooper. Do it."

"Oh, Mitch."

"Come for me."

"I'm so close."

"Do it."

"MITCH!" I whispered as loudly as I could, shoving my crotch through his ass.

Cum shot from my cock deep inside Mitchell. I panted and groaned. He moved his hands to hold my hips as I thrust some more. I kept coming. I kept coming. I gasped for air. I kept coming. I shoved my cock one last time and then collapsed on his body again. I kept gasping in his ear, trying to take in enough oxygen.

"That was hot, baby," he softly said.

I kept my penis inside him until it returned to too short of a length to remain. I rolled to my side, still breathing hard. The sound of the television comforted me that Corey heard nothing.

Once my breathing was normal, I asked Mitchell to bring his dick to my face. He straddled my shoulders. Once inside my mouth, his dick was rigid again in no time. He gently thrust his erection into my skull, and I consumed it. It was succulent meat that I was savoring. Even after my orgasm, my sexual drive was still strong. I was loving sucking on his flesh. It made mine start to stiffen again.

We worked at it for a couple of minutes. One of my fingers entered his ass in an encore. I reached deep to find some of my cum and moved it around inside him. He whined at the sensations.

"Ohhhhhh, baby. I'm getting close."

I used my free hand to keep him in place. I didn't want him to pull from me.

"Coop, I'm almost there," he warned in a loud whisper.

I wiggled my finger further. His ass writhed on my probe. He knew I was going to swallow his load, so he pumped harder to reach the peak.

"Yeah," he whispered.

A scorching blast hit my tongue. I hummed as his cum started filling my face. I didn't swallow, I just let it all fill my mouth. My lips were sealed tight around his dick. His body shuddered as the last of his orgasm oozed into my mouth. I pulled out my finger and held his hips in place. I finally swallowed and then let my tongue roam his spent erection. I listened to his breathing begin to slow and regulate. I didn't let his cock free. It remained captive. I still sucked on it.

He forced himself from me to move down to my face. We kissed. Enough cum remained that our tongues spread it.

"I so needed that," I whispered.

"I'll say." He held my hand as we lay side by side. "Thanks for doing that while Corey was here," he whispered. I gripped his hand tight.

After cleaning up for a moment, Mitch put his briefs back on. I stayed naked. As he rolled to his side, my hand slipped inside his waistband to grip his ass. I fell asleep just like that.

—

The rest of our week wasn't as fun as the vacation, but Corey and I still enjoyed each other's company. I came home for lunch each day. He seemed fine. The day after Mitch stayed, he caught me off guard at lunch.

"So, did you and Mitch have sex last night?"

"Hey! Remember when we talked in the car? Respect people's privacy. And they should yours. That was very inappropriate, Corey."

"Sorry."

It wasn't mentioned again. I made sure Mitch only stayed the one night. I didn't want Corey to think we were totally back together. At least yet.

—

I hadn't been to an AA meeting in two weeks. Although I felt fine, I thought one might do me good. My usual group was a closed meeting on Wednesdays. I took Corey to an earlier one. I wanted him to be there.

"Hi, I'm Cooper. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi Cooper," the group replied.

I could see Corey taking it all in. He looked around the room. He examined the variety of people there.

"I'm in a good place. I've enjoyed the last two weeks with my son. We had an incredible vacation."

I smiled at him. He smiled back.

"It seems like forever, but it wasn't that many years ago that I couldn't make it through a day without a drink. Or two. Or three. Maybe more. I still wince when I picture that night that I pushed my son when I was drunk. I couldn't possibly feel worse about myself than I did that night. Since that moment — that catalyst that made me confront my life — I have been blessed. I have accepted who I am, I have been able to establish a friendly relationship with my ex-wife, and I have been the luckiest man in the world to have a son that is so mature that he can forgive me for my weakness. He accepts and understands who I am as a gay man. I ... I just feel so fortunate to have him. He's my rock. He will always be my inspiration to be the best father I can be."

I was afraid to look at Corey. What did those words mean to a kid? Was it tough to hear? Wonderful to hear? Was I reminding him of the jerk I used to be? My eyes watered. I used a finger to push it away.

"That's it. Thank you."

The group clapped. I returned to my seat. Corey put his hand on my shoulder. As the next person got up to speak, Corey leaned next to my ear and whispered, "Love you, Dad."

We listened to the others.

—

Some nights we swam in the pool, and we went miniature golfing one night. There was a Thursday special at laser tag, so I knew he would love that. We had a full day Saturday. The weather was ideal, so we played with frisbees in the park. I asked if he wanted to start looking for school stuff.

"Ugh. I don't want to think about it." After a moment, he added, "But I could probably use a backpack."

We went shopping.

I made sure all his clothes were washed before sending him back to Natalie.

Mitchell texted. "After you drop off Corey, how about staying here tonight." That sounded good. I replied with a thumbs up emoji.

—

I carried in Corey's suitcase to his bedroom. "All his clothes are clean. The only thing dirty is what he is wearing."

"Nice," said Natalie. "I take it was a good time, honey?"

Corey went on and on about our trip. We sat in the living room. I expected some of the highlights to be the big attractions we visited, but it was curious to hear the small things that resonated with him. It may have been something that only lasted ten minutes, but they were father-son bonding moments. That meant a lot to me.

After listening for close to a half hour, I knew it was time to go. Natalie walked me to the front door.

"So what did you do with all your free time?" I asked.

Natalie looked awkward. She shifted her weight.

"Nat?"

"I ... um, I went on a date."

"Wow!"

"Shhhhhh."

"So how did it go?" I whispered.

"Fine. Good, I guess. I was scared."

"I understand the feeling."

"He's a nice man. He understands sex isn't on the table."

"For now."

"Cooper! You know who I am."

"I'm glad you have found a gentleman. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks for that. I'm glad you are fine with all of it. But please don't tell Corey. I don't want to get into that until it is actually something to talk about."

I hugged her. "I just want you to be happy; whatever that is."

She squeezed me a little tighter. I then walked to the car ready to drive to Mitch's apartment.

—

"Coooooper," he whispered into my ear as I felt his cum drip onto my crotch. Mitchell didn't stop grinding his cock into my bush. I loved feeling the friction between our bodies. He kissed me deeply, scooting up just beyond my navel, smearing his cum up my torso. I grabbed my cock and jerked violently.

"Keep kissing me!" I commanded.

"Shhh." He leaned to my ear. "Come for me."

Our lips locked. I masturbated under his leg. Our mouths were sealed as I pumped my stiff organ. I moaned into his throat as my climax began to crescendo. A muffled groan from me invaded his mouth like a sudden demonic possession. My fist pounded my cock.

Mitchell felt my cum hit his ass crack and perineum. It kept shooting and dripping. He moved his dick back into it and started gyrating his genitals into our coalesced cream. It was messy. I loved it.

—

I arrived at 9:03. Emory and I hadn't seen each other in weeks. Joe seemed oddly dead today. Brad was delighted to see both of us.

As each of us told the other of our trips, it was obvious my time was much more enjoyable. Others came into Joe and began filling tables. Emory was a bit melancholy over the family visit. Nothing had gone wrong; just seeing his family age unsettled him for some reason.

"We used to play games and laugh and tell stories. I felt we just stared at the TV this time. It was ... different and left me flat."

After telling him some highlights — and my talk with Corey — I mentioned how horny I had been on the trip. For the first time, I felt emboldened to initiate talk about sex.

"Mitch stayed over the second night we were back. Our sex is quiet, so we actually screwed with Corey in the living room!"

"Bold," said Emory. "Is it always quiet?"

"Oh yeah. He shushes me during sex."

"He shushes you!!!?"

"It's one of Mitch's `things.' I've never really had loud sex. I don't know if it was because he was worried someone would walk in on him when he was young, but he says he likes to listen to me breathe and pant. He finds that sexy. He is very detailed."

"Detailed?"

"Oh, he has a book. He writes down everything. I'm Number 19 in his book. The guy he cheated with is Number 20. I think he has a 21. He writes down EVERY-thing. The color of their hair, how long their penis is, if it is curved, if the pubic hair is trimmed, if the person is willing to swallow, the viscosity of the cum, how far his lover shoots when he has an orgasm, if his balls are loose or tight, cut or uncut, what the angle of his erection is, the smell of his sweat — and he is totally obsessed with pre-cum..."

"Coop."

"He has pre-cum, but I don't; he is always griping about how guys in porn don't have pre-cum, and he wonders why he does. It annoys him. He hates that his balls are really tight too and..."

"Cooper!"

My eyes snapped to Emory's. I became aware of the pregnant silence that surrounded us. Several tables had filled in; numerous eyes were looking at me, distracted by my blunt conversation. My face immediately turned red.

I wiggled my fingers in a faint wave and gave an awkward smile. I was ready to walk out of Joe with a dishcloth over my face. Emory patted my hand. The other patrons returned to their own conversations. I should have known better than to talk about sex. Gah! I was a dolt. Emory just flashed me a wicked smile for being so open. I knew there was a reason I didn't talk about sex with others.

"I had a friend who kept a book too. Not so much all the explicit details, just a list of names. Occasionally a star next to it. His goal was to sleep with 1,000 men by the time he was 30."

"Dear lord!! It's amazing he isn't dead," I said.

"He is," Emory returned.

"Oh." I felt bad. "I'm ... I'm sorry."

"It was his own doing. You'd think it would be AIDS, but no. He was 29; his list in his book was in the mid-900s. He was found in a hotel room by the maid staff. His wrists were tied to the headboard. Strangled. Wallet emptied.

"Dear heavens. That's terrible."

"It is. But that was the life he was living. Sex meant nothing personal. It was a numbers game after a while. The thrill was seeing how many he could get. If the sex was good, they'd get a star in the book."

"Wow. That's like the total opposite of me. I've been with one guy, not counting Henry in high school."

"You started late."

"And I'm totally different. I know I'm sort of an unusual case."

"You're Cooper. You are who you are supposed to be."

"I guess. Maybe. It would be nice not to feel like I am still a novice at all this."

"I'm sure you and Mitch have done most everything. You're fine."

Brad warmed our coffee. I was straight black today. Emory had nothing fancy either, just his Raw Sugar. My Sunday mornings at Joe had become an enjoyable part of my routine.

"Two weeks to retirement," Emory said.

"Oh, that's right. You must be getting excited."

"I am. I once worried I wouldn't know how to fill my time, but I don't care about that anymore. There are a lot of things I want to do. I think I'll be busy."

"Good for you. Your birthday is ...?"

"Thursday."

"I'd love to give you something. What would you like?"

"Oh, Coop, between Gene and me, we have so much clutter at the house. That's sweet, but I don't need one more thing."

"Well, if you think of something, let me know. It would mean something to me."

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a figure move close to us. I looked up. It was Laramie.

"Hey!" I said.

"Welcome home."

"I don't think you two have met. Emory, Laramie. Laramie, Emory."

"You can call me Larry."

"He doesn't like Laramie," I explained.

"May I pull up a chair?"

For about 15 minutes, the three of us enjoyed our coffee. Laramie had his cappuccino, as usual. Emory had encouraged me to widen my circle of friends. It was interesting to see the three of us together. The two of them seemed to hit it off fine. I thought I might bring Corey sometime soon. I should try and interject more of my life in his visits. I wasn't ashamed of being gay anymore. It would do him good to see my friends as normal folk.

Emory needed to head out. I stood to give him a hug. He kissed me on the cheek, and I returned it.

Laramie and I continued to visit. I shared some details of the vacation that Emory had already heard. He chuckled at my roller coaster experiences. He called me brave.

As we stood to leave, I kissed him on the cheek. I saw a slight blush come over him. He returned the kiss. He tried to conceal his smile as we walked out. I got the impression he was much like me a few months ago in that regard.

—

Tuesday night I got a text from Emory. "Call me if you are free."

I did. "What's up?"

"Well, you ... uhhhhh ... said you wanted to give me something for my birthday. And, well ..."

"I'd love to. What is it?"

"I think you will say no."

"How expensive are we talking?"

"Ha. Zero. Nothing."

"I don't follow."

"For my birthday, my gift would be for me to give you something."

"I still don't follow."

"You're going to say no, but ..."

"Emory, spit it out."

"I'd like to give you a round of loud sex."

I almost gasped on the tea in my mouth. I coughed. "What??!"

"After our talk Sunday, I thought what a perfect gift it would be for you to have a chance to have loud sex once."

"How on earth would that be a gift for YOU?"

"It's what I want."

"Emory ... I'm sorry. I'm not a friends-with-benefits guy. It's not me."

"I know. I would just like you to enjoy it once. No strings. Just the experience. I'm not going to fall head over heels or anything."

"That's ... that's kind, I guess, but I'm sorry. It's not me."

"I understand. Just wanted to make the offer. I'll leave it out there for you to consider."

"A gift card won't do, huh?" I laughed.

"Just forget it. I figured you would say `no,' but I ... I knew it would make me feel good to see you get one more gay experience on your checklist that you feel seems to be lacking. That's why it would be a gift to me. But I'm sure just contemplating it with someone my age is a total turnoff. I knew it was a longshot."

"That's not it, Em. Regardless of your age, I still think you are a handsome man. Please don't take offense on that end. That's not where I'm coming from."

"All right." He didn't sound hurt, but there was a bit of awkward disappointment there.

I asked about his plans, which seemed simple. He said his retirement party would be a bigger event later in the month.

In bed, I grabbed my laptop. I didn't look at much porn, but I tried to find something loud tonight. Emory had my mind obsessing momentarily. It took four tries for me to find the right mix: attractive men, no tattoos, no ridiculous dialogue and nice volume. My selection had one man probably my age with an older man who had a salt and pepper beard and moustache. What they called out was pleasurable instead of silly. It wasn't screaming, but I had certainly never witnessed anything so loud before. I moaned and groaned along with the performers. It gave me a strong orgasm. Before I even had a chance to wipe my chest, I bookmarked the link.

The rag was still in my grip resting on my chest as I stared at the ceiling.

There was no way I could take Emory up on his offer, but I wondered what I would say if I had loud sex. Would I use words? Just sounds? Who knew there was such pressure if you decided to get loud?

Sex was an enigma.

—

"Hey, I don't know your address, but I have a card for you. Care to have dinner?" I texted Emory.

"Alayna and Doug are about to pick me up. How about going out for drinks later?"

Mere seconds after sending that, Emory panicked.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I'll call after we wrap dinner. Maybe we can do a dessert or something."

Ninety minutes later I followed my GPS to the address Emory had texted. He answered the door.

"I'm stuffed actually, but ... maybe share a sundae?"

"Sounds fine," I returned.

I didn't mind that two gentlemen were sharing a sundae. No one at Caramel Moo seemed to notice. To some people, we might have been seen as father and son. Emory seemed in a good mood. I was happy that he had a nice birthday. He told me about dinner with his friends. He thanked me for encouraging me to reconnect with them. He said they said "hello," but I wondered if he made that up.

Back at his house, he opened my card. I debated between a funny one and a touching one. I opted for one about friendship. His expression told me it meant something to him.

"Is it silly to be thankful that I poured coffee down your leg?" he asked. "You've become a good friend. I appreciate you, Cooper."

"Same here. You've been a nice addition to my life this year."

"I feel the same. I still miss Gene. Sometimes a lot. I guess I have accepted it well enough, but ... I did love him so much. I'm glad Doug and Alayna took me out. From time to time, specific days can hit you more than others. His birthday is tougher for me than Christmas." Emory paused. I didn't know what he was thinking. "Some rekindled friendships and a new one like yours has helped. Thank you."

"Well, I'm glad it was a good birthday."

"All it is missing is birthday sex."

"Emoreeeee..."

"Are you sure you don't want to give me that gift?" he said with a wry smile.

"I gave you half a sundae."

We laughed.

We sat on his couch with hot cups of decaf. It was a surprise to me that he even owned any.

"From time to time, I like a mug before bed."

I asked him to tell me some of his favorite things about Gene. He managed to find some pictures and keepsakes. In turn, he asked me about the good months with Mitchell. I had several moments I was able to share. Neither of shared anything sexual, but we were able to land on a few romantic memories. We both sat our mugs down at the same time. Our fingers graced against each other. It caused our eyes to meet. We didn't say anything. Emory didn't have to say anything.

"I can't," I whispered.

Emory grabbed my hand. I looked down at it, then I looked at his face. It was so inviting. He was far from innocent, but it had a puppy quality.

"No strings. No mixed signals. Just a sex class in a way. For you. And it would mean the world to me."

"I ... I ... I just can't. Without the feelings there, it isn't in my wheelhouse. I mean ... I love you as a friend, but it just doesn't seem right to me."

"Okay. No pressure." He let go of my hand. "But the best gift to me would be to hear you really letting loose. Be as loud as you want. Scream your head off, Cooper. It would be one more step into the gay world."

I chuckled. And my thoughts dwelled on it. Curiously, I was hard as a rock just from the discussion. Emory noticed my bulge. The back of his fingers carefully graced my restrained crotch.

"You're thinking about it."

The two of us stared into each other's eyes for two minutes. We said nothing. It was a visual stalemate. There was no way I could do this. I'd feel horrible afterward. It couldn't be worth it. I reflected on the porn clip I watched the other night. I listened to those men groan so loud; they said such masculine things. But I couldn't do this. It was morally against everything I believed in. I pictured me screaming in orgasm. Emory's green eyes were still locked to mine as my thoughts swirled. I saw his mouth lift into a grin.

"No kissing," I said.

He grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom.

"No kissing on the mouth," he said as he started unbuttoning my shirt.

I was still in disbelief this was happening. Who was I? This wasn't me. I needed to stop and turn around. Emory slipped my shirt from shoulders. I was now bare-chested. I wasn't sure what I should do. I was frozen. I felt like I had committed to this, that I couldn't turn back. That wasn't true. I could have changed my mind. I felt his fingers work on the button on my pants. The zipper went down over my bulging erection. Emory slipped my pants over my hips. My briefs were so stretched out from my extended cock. He groped my dick through the fabric with one hand. His other hand reached for my hand, and he placed it on his own crotch. I felt his hardness. Slowly my fingers started tracing his rigid penis within his shorts.

He didn't say anything. I didn't say anything.

I felt his fingers slide inside my briefs on both sides of my waist. He used his hands to stretch them out and lower them below my crotch. I reached down to pull them completely off. As I stepped out of them, he held my cock in his grip. It felt good. My breathing was getting fast. He gently stroked my cock; his fingers fondled my skin in his movement. His other hand roamed over my chest. As completely wrong as this all was to me, I was incredibly aroused. It was daring, it was bold. It was wrong, but I felt brave. I was someone else besides Cooper Snow.

Emory paused. He pulled down the cover atop his bed. I watched as he removed all his clothing. I felt like I should remove my socks. We stared at each other naked. I was two inches taller than him. He was clearly much older than me, but he still had a handsomeness to his body. He was trim and impressively hadn't let himself go with indulgent food as he had aged. It was the first uncut dick I had seen.

He went around to the other side of the bed and dimmed the lighting. We could still see, but it was the lowest setting. He stretched out on the bed with a welcoming arm waiting for me. His dick stood outward with a slight bend. Mine was jutting upward like a sundial. I felt both scared and courageous in some type of immorality paradox.

"...nervous," my lips tried to say.

I wasn't sure how to start. I moved into his arm. He wrapped both around me in an embrace. We held each other tightly. I felt him push his erection into my hip. It felt nice for me to grind mine into him. The black and white hair of his neatly trimmed goatee rubbed against my jawbone.

"You feel nice, Cooper," he said straightforward. "Are you okay?"

"I honestly have no idea. I'm just going with it."

Emory chuckled and moved his face down to my crotch. In the lower lighting, I watched his mouth swallow my hard cock. Although it felt mostly like Mitch's mouth around my organ, there was still something slightly different. There was no question that the sensation was nice.

I lightly moaned.

"Don't hold back, Cooper. Let it out."

He sucked me for a couple minutes. Each time I increased the volume of my moans, I heard (and felt) him hum louder into my erection. It was a skilled blowjob. I was able to reach over to his waist and grab his hardened rod. As I pulled on it, I noted the difference of having a foreskin that stretched much further than the tight skin on my own penis. It was a toy. A fleshy, hard, snakeskin, sexual toy. It appeared to be leaking precum. I didn't do that.

Emory had me groaning now. It felt unusual to be loud. I became aware that it was only me. As if telepathy was one of his talents, he took his mouth off my dick to contribute sound.

"I like how you are feeling my cock, Cooper." He looked at my face. "It's nice." He moaned erotically.

I stroked him harder, still analyzing the stretchy skin on his rod and the slimy lube he was producing.

Feeling bolder, I changed my position to where we could 69. Emory immediately responded. Both of our faces dove in. There was cock swallowing, cock slurping, cock sucking. And it came with groans within the oral service. My hand groped his hip, his back, his butt cheek. His fingers were drifting up and down my ass crack. We didn't stop. It was simple, passionate lust. Misplaced audible lust.

Emory took his mouth off my cock.

"Yeah, Cooper. You are sucking me sooo good. You make me hot," he said in a deep rasp.

I hummed in response.

"Keep sucking me. Oh man. Oh yeah." Emory groaned really loudly. The volume not only startled me, but it also aroused me in a way I never would have expected. "Yes, Coop. Suck me. Suck me harder."

I did. He placed my dick back into his mouth. I took his dick from my face and began moaning his name. In my gratification, I let my tongue lick his foreskin. Then I moved to his balls. They hung nicely. They felt different than Mitchell's.

"Fuck yeah," he said. Then he slurped on my phallus some more.

I shouldn't have been enjoying it. This was so repulsive to my moral compass. Screw it, it felt great.

"Cooper, we should slow down."

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's awesome. I just don't want it to end too fast. I need you to fuck me."

Damn. That slowed down my bravery. Maybe this really was a huge mistake. It was, wasn't it?

Emory rolled on top of me. We held each other. Our hips gyrated into each other. Our fingers threaded each other's hair. He had less, but I still combed my fingers through it. His mouth was all over my neck. As he allowed his entire weight to lie on top of me, my index finger explored his ass. I poked gently at his sphincter.

"That's it," he whispered in my ear. "Fuck me, man. You deserve a good, loud fuck."

His body scrambled for a bottle of lube from the nightstand. He grabbed a towel from there as well.

I fumbled for the bottle. Then he handed me a condom.

"I hope this is okay."

I looked at it. It was smart of him to ask for me to do so. I ripped open the package and slipped it on. It fit me okay. Not too tight, but snug enough to keep it on. I coated it in lube and then dripped some lube into Emory's crack. I wiggled my finger in him and opened him up. He groaned.

My penetrating finger worked and wriggled inside him.

"Fuck me, Cooper. Fuck me, man!"

I moved above him. My dick was right at his passage. I should have been nervous. I should have been scared. But I wasn't. I just wanted to penetrate him. I pierced my friend.

"Oh, God! Yes!" he screamed as my shaft entered him. He groaned louder than I was expecting.

I started thrusting my cock in him. It was nice. It wasn't much different than Mitchell. An ass was an ass. I was propped on my elbows, sliding my erection in and out. I moaned lightly. He in contrast groaned in guttural volume.

"Let me hear you, Coop."

I moaned louder.

"That's it. Does it feel good?"

"FUCK YES!" I called out.

Emory laughed at my volume. I was yelling. Both of us groaned and grunted in our sexual bond.

"Oh, Emory. This is good. It feels good to be loud. YEAH."

"Yes. It does. Keep fucking me. Fuck me as hard as you want."

I rammed my crotch into his willing ass. We were inhuman; we became animals. Pawing, barking, grunting, sniffing, howling, panting. My dick felt alive. The screaming was electrifying my groin. Emory locked his arms around mine. He gripped my forearms. My rhythm stayed consistent, sliding in and out of his hole. I groaned like those men I had watched. Loudly. I wasn't groaning; I was screaming.

I leaned down to kiss his neck. I had said no kissing, but that wasn't really kissing. My lips were on his shoulder blade. I moved my mouth to his ear.

"My cock feels amazing," I whispered into it.

"Fuck me," he whimpered. "Fuck me," he whined. "Cooper, fuck the hell out of me," he pleaded.

My thrusting was harsh. I knew he loved it. I was getting close. It was a lot of stimulation building up. The veins and nerves in my erection were energized. My volume reverberated through my cock.

"Oh, Emory..."

"You gonna come?"

"Yeah. Oh, Emory, yeah." I screamed. "UNGH!! I'm coming!"

My dick was a piledriver plowing into his body. I yelled and screamed through my orgasm. He squeezed my arms tighter, groaning as I came. My body shoved one last time, then shuddered at the final release.

I collapsed to his side.

Emory ripped the condom from me and tried to lick up drops of cum that were still on my dick.

"Come on it, Emory. Come on my cock. Come on me," I directed.

He straddled my right leg. His fist gripped his hard-on and yanked it firmly. His breathing was increasing. He was panting. He gasped for air, barely saying the words, "I'm gonna come."

He aimed his cock right at my dick. His spurts weren't bullets, but they had forcefulness to their release. I loved feeling his sticky cum strike my red flesh.

"Yeah, man. That's it."

After a few spurts, he stopped coming. He hovered above me, panting.

"Wow." He laid next to me. "Wow."

We were still and quiet except for our breathing. For a few minutes, he didn't say anything. I didn't say anything. We listened to the quietness following our encounter.

Realization of what I had participated in started to focus within my brain. This was all so wrong. It's not what friends do. I wasn't that person. Who had I become?

Emory reached for my hand. "How freaked out are you?"

"Getting there."

"It's what I wanted. Thank you for my gift."

I smiled. "Happy birthday."

"You said no kissing, so I'll just do this."

Emory placed his face at my crotch and started licking his cum from my penis and balls. Nice. Then he grabbed the towel and wiped me further.

"You are obviously welcome to stay the night," he said.

"Uhh. I think I should go."

"I get that." He grabbed my face. "It really was a great gift, kiddo." Emory kissed me on the cheek. "So how was it?"

I thought on what we had done. "Fun." I didn't offer much more. I thought about the men in the video. I suddenly acquired a bravado that I had performed better than them. "Actually, very fun. I liked being loud. A lot."

He smiled and chuckled.

"I know this took some courage. And willingness. Don't let it freak you out. I'm not head over heels for you. It was just this one time. Okay?"

"I'm not sure that helps my conscience." I rolled over to look at him. I don't know why, but I gently held his flaccid penis as he looked at me. "I can't be a friends-with-benefits guy."

"Nor do I expect you to be. You gave me the gift I wanted. It was just today. That's all. Please don't let yourself get all worked up."

Minutes later I was dressed and heading to my car. In a daze. In a different dimension. I was all worked up.

I was a mess as I drove home. It was like the stereotypical angel and devil on my shoulders were shouting at me in a debate. What had I done? I had just told Corey on our trip that sex should be something special. I had cheapened it. I was a hypocrite. A total filthy hypocrite. The first of several tears flowed from my right eye. I wanted to offer Emory something for his birthday. But screwing wasn't on my list. I was so harsh on Mitch for making his mistake. But we were in a committed relationship! This wasn't the same. I would never have slept with Emory if we were still together. Never, no matter what. This was different. But did that still justify just sleeping with someone because they wanted it? I hated myself. At the same time, I was impressed by the loud sex; I loved it. I wasn't going to be shy about that anymore. I did learn something, that's for sure.

I didn't realize I was talking to myself out loud the entire drive home. I was a mess. I carried on my conversation to myself through tears.

Out the window to my right was a liquor store. I caught my breath. I then realized I wasn't exhaling.

No.

I breathed out.

No.

My hand had a slight tremble as I fumbled with the key in the door. My phone rang as I entered my apartment.

"Hi Cooper. I know it's late. It's Lance's birthday tomorrow. Want to come up?" Jakob asked. "Sorry that it is last minute."

Jakob's voice comforted me. It was like a microscopic AA meeting through a cell phone. It helped me focus. I contemplated his question. I was overdue for a visit. I could not turn this down. "I'd love it. Who all is going to be there?"

"You."

"What? Not Mike and Trent?"

"We actually celebrated last weekend. Mike has to start school and is wrapped up in all sorts of meetings and preparation and Trent is meeting his parents. The four of us went on a weekend trip last weekend. It was an early birthday celebration. But as it will be Lance's official birthday, I'd love a friend to be here."

"How sweet. Yeah, sure. Say, can I bring someone?"

"Absolutely, no problem."

Fifteen minutes later, Mitchell informed me he could not go. He had a commitment Saturday morning he could not get out of. Disappointing. But I was fine traveling on my own.

—

My phone buzzed as I opened my first file in my office. I saw that it was Emory. I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it.

"Hello."

"Hey kiddo. I'm calling to check on you."

"Check on me?"

"Yeah. After last night, I want to make sure you are okay."

"I guess I am. I felt better about it today." I questioned if that was a lie. "The next time Mitch and I make love, I'm going to pressure him into being loud."

Emory howled on the other end. "I know you think it was silly, but it meant something to me, Cooper. Thank you. It was a gift to me; it really was. It showed me there is still a lot for me out there if I want to pursue it."

"Hopefully a real relationship and not just random hookups with guys in coffee shops," I said with equal parts sarcasm and regret.

"Ha! Yes, that's what I meant." Neither of us knew what to say at the moment. "Hey, my retirement party is today after work. I know we had our own celebration last night, but you're welcome to come. There will be food."

"That's very kind, but I have committed to a birthday party to a good friend in my AA group. I'm driving to Von."

"I see. That's okay. No worries. But you are a good friend, I did want to include you."

"That's nice of you. I will try to make it back in time for coffee Sunday. I might be a little late."

"Sounds good. I'll just continue to read the paper."

"Congratulations, Emory."

—

Laramie texted me around lunchtime. "Can you do dinner this weekend? I think this one is without Corey, right? Or is Mitch with you all weekend?"

I called him back instead of texting.

"You're right that I don't have him this weekend, but I made a commitment to an old friend. It's his birthday, and his husband and he have invited me up to celebrate in Von. I'm heading up there this evening."

"Oh. All right." Laramie sounded down.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Was just hoping to visit. No problem."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said, unconvincingly.

"This ... may sound weird, but ... want to come with me?"

"Really?? I don't know these people."

"They're great. I'd love for you to meet them."

"Are you sure? I think I'd feel like an odd duck not knowing anyone. Why isn't Mitch going with you?"

"Tied up. Can't get out of it."

"Hm. I'd like some company this weekend, I guess."

"Plus, I hope to be back to the coffee shop Sunday morning at my usual time, so you will still have Sunday free to do what you need."

"Okay, I guess. Sure."

"I think you will like these friends."

—

"So tell me about this couple," Laramie said five minutes into the drive.

"They're great. Just so you know, we all met in AA. This isn't going to be a booze weekend."

He laughed. "I think I can survive."

"Lance is ... well, blunt. He doesn't hold anything back. That's part of his character, but at the same time he will make you blush. You're kind of that way, too." He looked at me and raised a questioning eyebrow. I smiled in response. "Jakob is much more reserved. I'm not sure I should say this — but I'm trusting you — Jakob had a very harsh life. His family kicked him out when he told them he was gay."

"Man. How old?"

"17. He struggled in his 20s. He became an alcoholic; lost his job. For a brief period he was homeless."

"Jesus."

"Ironically, Lance's parents are lawyers. He comes from money. It's funny how different they are but found each other. They are SO happy. And so perfect for each other."

"How so?"

"They not only accept their differences, but they also celebrate them. Truly kind hearts. I just know you will love them."

"I hope."

I remembered the feelings I had when I had dinner with Emory's friends. It's hard to not know the hosts; you feel different. I would try to make sure Laramie fit in. Thankfully, the guys couldn't be more loving to people; they were sweethearts.

"So, Laramie," I started. "Tell me something about you I don't know. What is a secret you will share."

"Oooo. I don't know. Are we getting into embarrassing territory here?"

"Ha. That's not necessarily what I'm going for."

"Well, this will sound totally stupid and weird..."

"I love stupid and weird," I reassured as I entered the onramp to the freeway.

"...but I moved to Jackson Bend because of the courthouse."

"The courthouse??"

"Yep. Back home I found a magazine — I can't remember what it was — and it showed the inside of the courthouse. I thought it was stunning."

"It is. Quite beautiful. I want to say I've seen it in articles that talk about architectural sites in the state. For a college town, we really do have some other nice attributes."

"Right. Anyway, I saw the library in it, and I was taken by it. The architecture, how the shelves appeared, the wood — as a craftsman I was really impressed by it all."

"Wow. So you moved here not for the courthouse, but because you were aware of Jackson Bend because of the courthouse."

"Right."

"What made you decide to move away from home?"

He was silent for a moment. He didn't answer. "Tell me a secret about Cooper."

"Oh. For many people, they would probably be ashamed to say it, but I'm not. I was a virgin when I got married."

"Really?"

I nodded.

"There's no shame in that," he said.

"Shouldn't be, but if you ask any virgin on a college campus, I bet you they would be mortified for that information to get out."

The rest of the drive consisted of talk surrounding our occupations. I enjoyed hearing about the projects that Laramie took a personal interest in. He really seemed to love what he did. My job was much less interesting, but he was a bit fascinated with the staggering amounts of money I would be dealing with on some accounts.

It was about 7 when we pulled up to Lance and Jakob's house. I double checked the address to make sure we had it right.

Before we could ring the bell, the front door opened. Both of them were standing there with gigantic smiles on their faces.

"Hey!" they said in unison, smiling.

I had a small suitcase. Laramie stepped up behind me with an overnight bag. I could tell Lance and Jakob were surprised. They said nothing, but there expressions screamed, "Who is this?"

"Guys, this is my friend, Laramie."

"You can call me Larry."

"Uh. Hi, I'm Lance," he said shaking Laramie's hand.

"I'm Jakob. With a K."

"Nice to meet you both."

They invited us in, but I returned to the car for one more thing. I walked in with a wrapped gift. Lance looked incredibly surprised.

"I thought it was understood `no gifts.' You didn't have to do that."

"Oh hush. It's not much. Happy birthday."

He kissed me on the cheek, and I returned the same. Then I did the same to Jakob. I was very comfortable in doing that now. I felt I had grown quite a bit these past months.

We could smell dinner cooking. It spread a fantastic aroma through the house.

"Dinner smells good," Laramie said.

Jakob indicated that the guest room was down the hall. Laramie volunteered to take my bag.

When we were private a moment, Lance took me to the side. "Okay. What's up? We assumed you would be bringing Mitch. What's happened?"

"Are you and Laramie ...?" Jakob started to ask.

"No. We're just friends. Mitch is tied up this weekend. I brought Laramie along. He was hoping to do something together, and I wanted him to meet you. I got the impression that he needed some company."

"Oh." Jakob looked nonplussed.

"I hope that's okay."

"Well, he's more than welcome. Are you going to ... share the bed?" he sheepishly asked.

I chuckled. "Nah. If you have a pillow and blanket, I'll be fine on the couch."

Lance and Jakob were watching Sascha, Ethan's dog. Ethan was an old boyfriend of Mike's, but they still remained good friends. Mike and Trent would usually dogsit when Ethan had to leave town. Mike and Trent were headed to his parents, and Jakob jumped at the chance. Sascha seemed very friendly and well trained. I could tell Jakob loved having him stay.

Dinner was magnificent. The boys had outdone themselves. Lance had grilled steaks, and Jakob had prepared incredible side dishes. Conversation was lively and fun. Jakob and Lance took a liking to Laramie as I knew they would, and he to them. They were fast friends. We laughed a lot. At one point, Lance apologized for not having alcohol in the house, but Laramie waved that off like it was nothing.

"How about we sit on the back porch as the sun sets. We'll have dessert after that," Jakob said.

The back porch was decorated masterfully. It was full of charm and character. Considering Jakob's line of work, I wasn't surprised. The walls were decorated with ceramic pieces showing a bit of Aztec flair. Several pots had a Mexican motif and were beautifully graced with flowers. A canopy had been built to cover the porch. The yard was nicely landscaped. Two large maple trees were growing in the corners of the yard. Not only did the canopy have lights strung from above, but a strand also swagged along the back fence. As the sunlight was fading, Lance turned the bulbs on, and they gave a soft white glow. It was homey. Sascha was content to rest at our feet.

"Thank goodness the temperatures are starting to go down. I'm ready for fall," Lance said.

"Larry, tell me more about the things you build," Jakob inquired.

Laramie told the guys about the type of work he does. Jakob could hear the passion in his voice. I was glad that I brought him. Emory was right; a nice circle of friends was a good thing. I could tell it had made my life better.

"I can't believe it has taken me so long to get up here," I said, staring into the sunset.

"It IS about time," Lance chided.

"I know. I know."

"Is it okay to ask about Mitch?" Jakob asked.

"Oh sure. We're ... okay. We are seeing each other more and more, but I'm not ready for us to move in. Part of me still worries that I'll be hurt again. That's terrible of me to drag my feet, but ..."

"I can understand your caution," Jakob said. "When it feels right, you'll know it. I'm just glad you are working it out."

Which we were. I wouldn't dream of letting them know I was in bed with Emory last night. That was its own isolated thing. Isolated, weird, unexplainable thing. I knew I would be hiding it from Mitchell too, which made me feel like dirt. And a hypocrite. I needed to start making goals to move forward. Mitch at least deserved that.

Two minutes later, Jakob came out to the porch with dessert. It was key lime pie. Lance's slice had a candle in it. We sang. It wasn't often Lance looked sheepish and embarrassed.

"That reminds me," I said going to get my gift.

I returned from the car with the wrapped present. Lance ripped open the paper and saw a milkshake and sundae set. He laughed. "Perfect."

Laramie looked a little perplexed. I had to explain that he didn't like coffee and that after the AA meetings, when everyone wanted to go out for coffee, he pushed for milkshakes. Laramie smiled and nodded. Lance came over to me. After a quick hug, he gave me a simple kiss on the lips. I wasn't expecting that, but it didn't bother me.

We stayed up to 11 and then decided to turn in. Jakob had placed bedding on the couch for me. I went in to get my suitcase.

"What are you doing?" said Laramie.

"I'm sleeping on the couch."

"Why??"

"Because you are my guest, and I'm giving you the guest room."

"That's crazy. I'm the one who is the extra person here. I'm not making you sleep on the couch."

"I don't mind."

"I do! Cooper, seriously. Let me. I insist."

I relented. We both sat on the bed for a moment.

"I like your friends. Thanks for inviting me. I've enjoyed the evening a lot. It's a shame they live far away."

"Well, only an hour, but I understand what you mean. It would be fun to get together with them more frequently."

Laramie stood. He gave me a hug. It conveyed more to me than a simple good night. It was one of friendship, one that mattered. I was glad I invited him. I really didn't know what or if something was troubling him, but he seemed to be in a good place now.

"I'll let you have the bathroom first. Good night."

And with that, we turned in.

—

I awoke to the sound of small talk in the kitchen. I had to pee. Once out of the bathroom, I pulled on some jeans and a T-shirt from Corey's school. As I entered the kitchen, Jakob and Laramie were at the small table enjoying coffee.

"Morning, Cooper. Coffee? Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes. And yes." I pulled out a chair.

A few seconds later, Jakob pushed a mug in front of me. Milk and sugar were on the table, but I kept it black. I glanced at the sun rising out the living room window. It looked to be a beautiful day. Jakob's hair was kind of a mess. It was a bit longer than when he lived in Jackson Bend — either that or he was due for a haircut. It was kind of like a tangled field of grain sticking up. Laramie's hair wasn't as long, but it still had a sleep-induced smushed look. I was glad I had ran a brush through my hair. However, there was something about seeing friends in true natural form that was comforting.

We talked about my house for a few minutes. Jakob shared that he and Lance were starting to talk about building a bigger house. I told him that I hoped to use some of Laramie's skills in the final layout. Jakob was intrigued with Laramie's work, and they exchanged cell numbers.

A minute later, Lance came out in pajama bottoms but shirtless. He had no chest hair. Of course that was fine, but his body was rocking; chest hair would have really done it for me. I knew from talk over the years that Lance was hugely hung, not that I had ever seen it. Laramie's look was one of inspection and surprise, although he said nothing.

"You're lucky he didn't just stroll out with nothing on," Jakob smiled.

"You don't have to change anything on my account," Laramie joked.

"Hey! I'm freshly showered and smell wonderful," Lance admonished.

"And you look beautiful, angel," Jakob said wrapping his arms around him. They kissed in front of us. "Good morning."

Lance looked over at the table to confirm we all had coffee. He poured himself a glass of juice. Our hosts made us fresh waffles with a few options of syrup and walnuts and pecans as choices to finish it off. It was spot on.

Once we got motivated, the boys took us around to show us what there was to see in Von. It wasn't quite as large as Jackson Bend, but it had all the ingredients of a good-sized town. They thought Laramie would be interested in some of the more signature architectural pieces. There wasn't quite as big of a "gayborhood" as Jackson Bend, but still a couple of bars, shops and a burger place. We had lunch at Chubbies. It was going to be a high-calorie day, but it was all good.

"Larry is so cute," Lance leaned over to say, when Laramie headed to the bathroom before leaving the burger joint. "He looked like a 12-year-old asking for permission when he asked if it was okay if he could order a beer."

"He's nice. I've only known him for a few weeks, actually a couple of months, I guess. I get the impression he doesn't have a ton of gay friends. Or friends period. A few, I think. He works so hard at his job. He could probably use more help, but I don't know what his financial position is. He totally thinks you guys are awesome. He's quite taken with you."

"Aww," they both said at the same time, looking as adorable as possible.

Von had a park in an area called The Falls. It wasn't a huge waterfall by any means, but still scenic enough to make it a worthy gathering site. The river crashed over a set of rocks. Instead of a vertical drop, it was more of a cascading stretch that made a lot of crashing splashes over the elevation change. It was nice. The afternoon was warm but not oppressively hot. We went for a walk. All of us were in shorts, and we decided to pull off shirts and leave them in the car. As we walked the park, we got several glances, mostly from women but a few men. One teen called us "fags." We blew it off, but I knew we were wondering how he could tell. It wasn't like we were draped in rainbow apparel. Not that we cared. We were fags. Five years ago I would have been mortified. None of us really had a tan. We weren't shirtless long enough to get burned, but for that period of time, we looked rather studly.

Laramie and I wanted to treat them to dinner, but they insisted on cooking again. The kitchen smelled of lemon and garlic in some sort of Tuscan chicken dish that Lance was working on in an Instantpot. Jakob had a nice rice dish started along with steamed vegetables. An Italian salad started it off. They were good hosts.

It was a later dinner than the previous night. Before it got dark, we all played a little bit with Sascha in the backyard.

We had simple sorbet in the living room to wind down the evening.

"It has been so good to be here," I told my friends. "Forgive me for taking so long. I promise I won't wait as long for the next visit."

"We'd love to have you back. And please bring Mitch next time. We'd love to see him," Lance said. His eyes drifted to Laramie, and I could read his facial expression that he wondered if that somehow came off as disapproving of Laramie's inclusion to the weekend. "Larry, I hope you feel welcome to come visit as well. It has been nice meeting you." Lance's awkward smile hopefully rescued all the feelings involved.

"I've had a great time. Thank you for your hospitality."

"And if you have someone special in your life, they are more than welcome too," Jakob added.

"Alas, I'm more of a `friend type' than a `boyfriend type.' I guess," Laramie said.

I carried everyone's dishes to the kitchen and loaded them into the dishwasher. Jakob winked at me when I returned.

"You see Trent more than us nowadays. I assume he is still planning on Friendsgiving this year. Isn't he?" Jakob asked.

"As far as I know."

"He loves hosting that," Lance added.

Laramie looked confused again.

"Trent is a friend of all of ours. He and I went to college together," Lance said. "A few years ago, someone the three of us here met in AA committed suicide. Trent didn't know him that well, but it really hit him. He began a tradition the weekend before Thanksgiving that invited all sorts of people over to celebrate and give thanks for friendship. They are great events. We always take a moment to remember Tyler too, the friend we lost."

"Oh," Laramie said, then he became quiet.

Conversation about the fall continued. Jakob talked about events happening in Von and how they affected his shop. The two of them talked about family. I noticed Laramie said nothing. His gaze was in the middle space of the room, not looking at anything.

"Excuse me," he said, standing and slowly walking down the hall to the guest room.

The three of us looked at each other perplexed. His expression conveyed it was more than just a go-to-the-bathroom maneuver. We continued to talk, but I kept an ear focused on anything that I might pick up down the hall. After a few minutes, I mouthed the words "I'm going to check."

Laramie wasn't in the bathroom. I walked into the guest room, which I had fully made up this morning. He was standing looking out the window.

"Laramie? Hey, are you okay?"

He didn't answer. I walked to his side and could see his eyes had welled with so much water. They were as full as the eyelids could possibly contain without overflowing into tears.

"Hey. What is it?" I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder.

"I hate to say."

I pulled him to the bed. We sat side by side. "Tell me. I'm here. It will be okay."

"Not really. The conversation reminded me of my brother. He..." Tears flowed. "...he committed suicide six years ago. The talk of your friend Tyler made me think of it. I'm sorry that I ... kind of bummed out the mood here."

"No. No. Don't be silly." I reached to grip his hand. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry. That must be painful to pull up those memories."

"It's bad. It's all bad. His birthday would have been yesterday." He put his head on my shoulder and sighed, and I put an arm around him.

"Can I do anything?"

"No. I'll ... I'll just stay in here a bit. I'll try to collect myself. Go on back out there."

"You sure?"

He nodded.

I walked back to the boys. I explained the situation. They understood. It was all delicate, and they felt sorrowful for accidentally prompting a response in their guest. We talked a few more minutes, but it seemed like a struggle to know what topic was worthy of bringing up. It was a quarter after 10. Not late, but we felt like we could turn in early. They knew we had an early departure if I was going to meet Emory for coffee.

By the time I got back to Laramie, he was weeping uncontrollably. I went over to hold him.

"I'm so sorry. You two must have been really close."

"Not really." He coughed on a mouthful of mucous in his throat. "You only know half the story."

I showed concern on my face. He looked me in the eyes.

"I'm sorry I ruined the evening," he whimpered. "I didn't mean to."

"It's fine. It's okay."

"Phillip and I were typical brothers. Three years older than me. We had some good times, but he had his own set of friends. I told you about the time he caught me in the barn." He saw me nod. "After that, we didn't talk a lot. He took some community college courses, but eventually moved away from home. I knew he thought I was weird for liking guys. He eventually told me that I needed to tell my parents. I did. I was 24. We never really talked about it after that. It was a subject that was not to be approached. I felt that clearly. I was 26 when Phillip took his life."

Laramie blew his nose into a tissue.

"A few months after that, the family was all sitting in the living room. Mom looked at a photo of Phillip and started crying. I hated watching them like that. She said, `It's not fair.' My father nodded. He said, `The wrong one was taken.' It felt like a rifle had shot me in the chest."

Laramie started crying harder.

"Hey, no. I'm sure they didn't mean you. Surely, they meant just a person in general. They didn't mean you."

Laramie's eyes squeezed as tight as he could make them. His face winced in pain. "Yes, they did. I know it." He tried to catch his breath, and the inhaled air stuttered in his throat. "That's exactly what they meant."

I wrapped my arms around him. I had no words to say. I hoped an embrace would be some small sense of comfort. His recollection couldn't have possibly been accurate. As the father to Corey, I couldn't imagine the loss of a child, nor choosing one over the other in such a horrific manner.

"They don't even miss me," he said, his voice quivering.

I held him tighter. His body collapsed on the bed. He lay there sobbing, clutching a tissue to wipe his eyes every now and then. I moved my body up behind him to wrap my arm around him again. Had it been Corey, I might have known what words to say, but this was much more complicated. I just held him.

We lay there for a long time. It was silent; neither of us said anything. Twenty minutes later I heard the wheezing in his nose that indicated he had drifted off. I figured he had exhausted himself emotionally. Gracefully, I let go. I picked up a few overnight articles of clothing from my suitcase and turned out the light. I made up the couch in the living room. Moving into the simple sheet, I placed my head on the pillow and tried to fall asleep. My heart was breaking for him, and I was slightly annoyed at myself for not knowing the right words to say.

The house was dark.

—

I felt a touch on my arm. It startled me. Laramie was sitting on the edge of the couch. I jumped a bit analyzing what the situation was and where I was.

"Oh. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he softly said. "I'm so sorry. I should be out here. Please go take the bed. I didn't intend for you to be out here."

"I'm fine. Really. No. I've settled in here. You take the bed. I'm good."

He continued to sit at the edge. He was still fully dressed. I assumed he had just awoken.

"Is it okay for you to hold me another minute?"

"Hm? Uh. Yeah. Sure."

I lifted the sheet with my arm. Laramie scooted his body up against mine. I put my arm back around him. A few seconds later he grabbed my hand and pressed it to his chest. Neither of us said anything. We listened to each other breathe. I made out a clock on the television. It was only 12:14.

Laramie stood. He leaned over me and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you," he whispered and walked back to the guest room.

—

Lance and Jakob had gotten up early. I joined them in the kitchen. As we had to leave fairly quickly today, I made sure they didn't put any effort into breakfast. We tried not to talk too much about Laramie. Sascha provided a nice distraction to scratch behind his ears. He loved attention.

"Morning, Larry," they both said together.

I turned around to see Laramie walking in with a morning stumble. He scratched his head. Once again, his hair was a mess. Although, I'm sure mine was too. I reached for his wrist.

"You okay?" I softly asked.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm really sorry for ruining everything last night."

Jakob got up to him and gently put his arms around him. "Nonsense."

"You can see what I mean about being better friend material than boyfriend material. Although I was pretty sucky at that too."

Jakob reached for both of Laramie's hands. "If you only knew, Larry. What I came from was a mess. Trust me. If there is one thing AA teaches us is that everybody has stuff to deal with. You're in good company here."

Laramie gave a simple smile. By that time, Lance had poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.

Thirty minutes later we were packed and headed to the car. Neither of us had showered. Laramie offered a full hug to our hosts on our departure.

"It was nice meeting you," he offered to both of them.

"Likewise," they responded in kind.

My hug to my friends was a bear hug. I didn't realize how much I had missed them. I kissed both of them on the lips.

They both told me they loved me, and we started our walk to the car.

On the drive back, Laramie didn't say a lot. He finally broke the silence.

"It was nice of you to invite me. I'm sorry I kind of embarrassed you."

"Stop. You did no such thing. They liked you."

"I hope so. They were wonderful. I hope I didn't ruin it. It would be fun to see them again."

"Yes. Maybe you can come to Friendsgiving."

"Your friend Trent doesn't know me."

"No. But friends are welcome to bring friends. Lance and Jakob took me to the first one. That's what it is all about."

We drove some more in silence.

"It's funny, I felt just like you did a month or so back at a dinner party Emory took me too," I said.

"How so? I'm sure you didn't dissolve into a stream of tears. Dear lord."

"Well, no. But I felt awkward. I know for a fact that Lance and Jakob liked you. I'm glad you're in my circle of friends."

"Will I ever meet this Mitchell fellow?"

"Hmm. I don't know. Maybe. Not sure when actually, but something might come up. I haven't introduced Emory to him either. Maybe when the new house is finished. A dinner party."

We pulled into Jackson Bend around 8:35.

"I think I'll skip Joe today," he said. "Just drop me off. I'm grungy. I think I'll go in and get some work done."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure. I feel you have had enough Larry Jenkins for the weekend."

I chuckled. "Not only are you both friend material and boyfriend material, but you're just good person material too, Laramie."

"I'm not sure about that. But I appreciate you saying that."

I pulled into his driveway. I took notice of the outside. There were some arbors and trellises I was sure he had built. His work looked nice. I got out to give him a hug goodbye.

"I'm not sure why Mitch did to you what he did. I hope you all can fix it. If I had you as a boyfriend, I wouldn't fuck it up. You're everything I hope to find one day, Cooper." He kissed me on the cheek and then turned to go inside.

—

I texted Emory I would be there shortly. There wasn't enough time to shower, but I stopped by the apartment to drop off the bag and find one of the two baseball caps I owned to disguise my hair.

I sat down with my coffee. I had some earlier in Von, so I accented this cup with a small splash of Amaretto. Emory saw me coming, so he stared folding up his paper.

"How are you?" he asked as I sat down.

"You know, I'm good."

"Well, that's nice to hear. I was worried you'd be running from me."

"What?"

"I wasn't sure of your level of freaked out."

"Oh. I'm not exactly the innocent flower you think I am."

"I wouldn't have worded it that way. You have your own character and moral ethics, and I understand that. I told you months ago I found it attractive."

"Whatever. I think in most ways, I'm made of sterner stuff. But I can say I feel better about myself."

"Fantastic. Do you know why?"

"I'm not sure I could pinpoint it, but ... it's probably a lot of things. I'm closer to Corey than ever. I'm slowly bringing him into my world a little at a time. I took him to an AA meeting. I wanted him to see the true me. I might introduce him to friends here at Joe sometime soon."

"Nice. I'd be thrilled to meet him."

"Laramie said something to me this morning and..."

"This morning? Oooo. Tell me more."

"No. Not that. I took him with me on a visit to my friends in Von. Honestly, Emory! Must you jump to such conclusions?"

"Look how you worded it!" He laughed, then lowered his voice. "Who knows what I could have started the other night?" He laughed some more. I glared at him.

"Anyway..." I started again. "On the drive back, Laramie was talking ..." I paused, hesitating on what I should actually share. "... well, he was talking through some issues he was confronting. We indirectly talked about dating and ... and ... he said one day he would love to find someone just like me. That felt good to hear."

"Sure."

"Plus ... you and I..." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "...we had sex. Loud sex."

"Why are we whispering? I'm sure everyone at Joe has had sex. Loud sex."

"Yeah. But for me, it's sort of a step forward. Remember the beginning of the year when I thought no one would ever want me?"

He nodded. "And?"

"I feel good. I no longer feel like a fish out of water. I might not be the exact fit to most gay puzzle pieces, but I'm still a part of the big picture."

"I agree."

"Good answer. If you didn't, I was going to clobber you."

He laughed. Remaining relatively quiet, he said, "I'm glad it did some good for you. It really was the gift I wanted. If you aren't totally freaked out..."

"Just partially."

He smiled. "... it really was a gift for me. I hope you can picture it that way. And. And ... this is a bit personal, but it did me a lot of good. When you're my age. Not ... everything ... works the way it used to. Enjoy your 40s, Cooper. Everything goes to hell in your 50s." He saw me lightly chuckle. "But ... you made everything work Thursday night. It was hot."

I saw him look at my baseball cap.

"This is a different look for you."

"I know. My hair was a mess. It's funny. I've always found guys in baseball caps attractive."

"I get that," he said. "And you are." He winked at me.

Brad stopped by. "Whatever you're selling, I'm buying," I said, handing him a five.

I was in a good mood.

* * * *

A lot to process with this chapter. Feedback is always welcome: timothylane414@gmail.com