Come Christmas Steve

Come Christmas Steve Chapter 9 Making up is HARD

Steve was creeping quietly towards his bed. I blew out a sigh of relief when I heard the door click shut to our room, thankful for his safe return. Then I sat up.

"Oh, sorry Shane," Steve said, "I was hoping I wouldn't wake you up."

"I was never asleep," I said sharply. "I've been lying here worrying myself SICK over where you might be. I was afraid something awful happened to you and I was scared - really scared."

"Why?"

"Because it's not like you to be out this late when the library's closed. Where the hell have you been?"

Steve dropped his book bag hard on the floor and hopped up onto his bed facing me. Scowling, he responded in a measured tone, "What's it to you, where I've been? You're not the boss of me."

I was surprised and a bit crushed by his attitude. "What's it to me? I care about you. I love you! That's what."

"Oh really? It seemed like the only thing you were worried about earlier today was that I wasn't giving you enough sex to meet your expectations."

"What? Sex? Is that what you thought? Sex has nothing to do with it. I was just upset that you spend all your time studying. It's like every free minute. I was concerned for you and yes, I admit that I miss spending time with you. Is that wrong?" I felt justified in my position. Steve had falsely accused me of being selfish over the sex thing and I was shaking slightly from being so upset. "So where were you?" I demanded.

"None of your business! That's where. I told you already, you're not my boss or my headmaster and you're not king boy of this dorm room. I'm done with that shit. I don't live back in that quasi- prison of a boys' home anymore and I don't intend to have to answer to anyone again. Not even you. Understand? I'm free to come and go whenever and wherever I fucking please." There was passionate anger in his voice and it scared me. He'd never spoken to me like that before. He too, started trembling and the veins in his neck were visibly standing out.

There was a horrible stillness in the room following his last rant. I let his words sink in for a minute before I ventured to diffuse things, "I don't want or mean to be king boy over you and I don't expect you to have to get permission from me to come or go, but I thought ..." I didn't finish. I ducked my head and felt the burn spreading behind my brow.

"Thought what?" he spat out, "Finish your sentences. God, that annoys me."

"I thought," I continued choking back tears, "that we were lovers now and because of that we kind of owed each other some respect to at least call or text so I wouldn't lay here worrying about you. You could have been lying dead in some alley somewhere for all I knew."

"Oh my god, what a woman you are. Here," he said tossing me a washcloth off the counter he used to keep around for wiping up with. "Roll that up and stuff it in your bloody cunt why doncha? I'll go buy you some Midol in the morning."

I threw it back at him. "Oh, real mature," I said. His sarcasm sunk in though. I'd heard people say how they hated it when they realized they were acting like their parents. I realized I'd been acting exactly like my mother just then. And I hated it.

There was another lengthy and heavy pause that enveloped the room. Finally, Steve spoke. "Maybe this being more than just roommates thing was a bad idea. Maybe we need to give it a rest."

I almost swallowed my tongue, but if that was how he wanted it, then fine. "If that's what you want. It's up to you."

"It's not really what I want but it's probably best. I'm not really equipped right now for all of this. I just don't need it in my life right now with everything else that's going on and how busy school is for me."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Goodnight then."

"Yeah. Good fucking night." Steve stood, pulled off his clothes and climbed into his bed. We both rolled over to opposite sides and tried to fall asleep. But the anger filled the room like a stinky fart that wouldn't dissipate. I was boiling inside. My guts were churning and I was eyes were stinging. I was both mad and desperately sad at the same time.

After a long, heavy silence of at least twenty minutes, Steve said quietly, "All right, I'm sorry for rude cunt comment. I'm also sorry I worried you. You know I don't have a phone. And after the way you left here earlier today, I didn't think you cared." There was less anger and more sadness in his tone now, and my anger started to evaporate. I realized I'd hurt him as much as I'd felt hurt by him. I berated myself for doing that to him and once again fucking up a good relationship. I'd been cruel to him on purpose because I was so mad at him and I'd hurt him. What an ass I'd been. But I wasn't ready yet to let him have the last word.

"Fine. Apology accepted. We'll talk in the morning. I need to sleep," I said. I was hoping he'd say more, but I heard him crunch up his pillow and I knew that was going to be the end of the subject for the night.

The next day, we were very cold to each other. He woke early and was sitting at the desk pulling his assignments off of my computer. I was still pissed and before I could catch my mouth, I said, "Excuse me, weren't you taught to ask first before using other people's things? Maybe no one bothered teaching you guys manners in the boys' home." God, I couldn't believe I could be so easily cruel like that, but I was hurt and I was mad and it just spilled out.

He looked at me, sad at first and then angry. "Sorry. I didn't think you'd mind since you've let me use it before." He exited the program and slammed the lid dramatically shut. Then he quickly gathered his things and left without another word. He didn't even slam the door, which really scared me - and pissed me off even more.

I grabbed my pillow and pounded it against the wall over and over. That wasn't enough and I slammed my fist into the wall. "Fuck!" I yelled. It hurt, bad and it hurt good. I shoved the pillow over my face and pressed it tight. I wondered to myself how I'd managed to fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to me. I started to beat myself up just like I used to do in the old days when I'd chase a friend off.

The rest of that day and evening was spent avoiding each other and not speaking at all. It was horrible. The following morning, I met Whittaker and we went running early as we had been doing. I told him all about our fight and he listened empathetically. "What you gonna do?" he asked.

"What can I do? He doesn't want to be more than just roommates, but that's so hard. You can't go back to being friends when you've been lovers and still live together. At least, I can't. I just want to apologize and beg him to fuck me again, but if I do that, he'll just take advantage of me. I can't be like that. I'll never have any self respect if I do."

"Yeah, I feel you, dude. That sucks. What if you moved out?" Whittaker asked.

"How? We're in a contract with the dorms."

"Well, what if he moves down with Jensen and I take his place? Then you won't be all awkward with each other every day."

"Dammit Whittaker, you're a genius. I'll ask him."

As soon as I got back to the room, I brought it up. "Steve, I have a question." He turned around to face me but didn't speak. "Whittaker suggested that you and him or Jensen and I switch rooms so that we don't have to be all awkward around each other here. What do you think?"

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"Yeah. I guess. It would be easier than this."

"If you want it to be easier, then fine. I'll go."

"Fine. Umm, when?" His eyes widened and he cocked his head.

"How about right this fucking instant," he spat out. "Is that soon enough for you?"

"I didn't mean it like that. C'mon, let's not ..." I shook my head in frustration.

"Let's not what? Finish your fucking sentences."

"Let's not part enemies. I can't stand it if you hate me. It's hard enough you don't love me anymore."

"I don't hate you. And I don't know if I really have any idea what love means or if I'm even capable of it. Do you what love means?"

"No. I guess not. I know I really care about you. Believe it or not, I do."

Steve gathered up his things and I called Whittaker. We made the exchange quickly but it felt strange to not see Steve's things around the dorm. Whittaker had Need for Speed movie posters he hung on the wall and played his music loud. He dropped his clothes all over the floor and they stayed there until he needed them again. Sometimes he'd wash them and sometimes he'd just pick them up and smell them before putting them back on. He constantly paraded around the room stark naked, teasing me with his big swinging dick hanging under his ginger pubes. But at least he talked and equally important, he listened. He let me vent and pour out my feelings and he didn't try to fix me, he just listened.

The days trickled slowly by. Each morning, Whittaker and I went running, just the two of us. Steve and I relaxed a bit around each other once we were no longer roommates. The four of us, Jensen, Whittaker, Steve and I could sit together for meals and in the commons again without it being too awkward. Steve continued to work his ass off with studying. Jensen seemed relieved to have the more peaceful existence. Steve and Jensen had found a common interest in music. Steve had tried to leave the guitar behind but I insisted he keep it. It was a gift and I was NOT an Indian giver.

One night, I heard a group in the commons and poked my head in. A group of dormies were gathered around Steve and Jensen. Steve was playing a Bon Jovi song and Jensen was singing it. It was good - amazingly good for how long Steve had been playing. He was truly a natural at it. After the song, everyone cheered them on and clapped and begged for an encore. Steve and Jensen gave each other a little bro hug and I was more than a little jealous over that. It bothered me that the two of them seemed to be hitting it off so well.

On the first Saturday after the split, Whittaker and I showered up and were lying naked in the room on our beds listening to Whittaker's music and staring at the ceiling. I'd taken on Whittaker's habit of hanging out naked in the room. I was fully caught up with my homework so I didn't know what to do for the day. I had no idea about Whittaker's homework since I rarely saw him do any. Lying there, my mind drifted back to when Steve and I first made love in the bunkhouse. I closed my eyes and flexed my ass cheeks as I could almost feel his dick entering me on that fateful night. The pleasurable burn of his dick up my ass and the smell of his warm body filled my memory. I recalled the cold air I gasped into my lungs as we laid together beneath the heavy quilt. I absent mindedly started fondling my dick and it naturally grew. I went on thinking about the other times Steve and I shared together and I got increasingly horny and sad.

"What're you thinking about over there?" Whittaker asked, eyeing my woodie.

I'd forgotten he was even there, I'd been so lost in my daydream. "Nothing," I lied.

Whittaker walked across the gap between our beds and climbed on next to me. I slid over and looked at him curiously. "Nothing my ass. You're thinking about Steve, aren't you?"

I sighed. "Yes. God I miss him. I miss being held by him. I miss talking and making plans. I miss his smell and his touch. And I miss ..."

Whittaker smiled. He could easily fill in the blank. "Yeah, I bet you do miss that. I have an idea that will help you take your mind off things. I got a senior friend who can get me whatever I want. I could score some weed or some beer or both and we could do a little self medication. How about it?"

"I'm not interested in doing weed, but I honestly think I'd love to get drunk," I answered. "Where will we go to drink it?"

"Normally, I'd say up to the mountains, but it's too fucking cold. Just back here, I guess. We could watch some Netflix on my laptop and get wasted together."

"So cool," I agreed. "I'll go do some shopping I need to get done and then I'll meet you back here. What time?"

"After lunch. Like two maybe."

"Cool. It's a date." I told him to get some cash from my wallet to help pay for the beer.

"Sweet." Whittaker reached over and gripped my semi soft dick and said, "Sorry about your loss, dude. I really am. It sucks." Then he jumped off the bed, dug through his pile of dirty clothes, sniffed a pair of boxers, jeans and a t-shirt and put them on. Off he went, leaving me lying there with my thoughts again. Getting drunk sounded like a great idea all of a sudden. I was never a party guy and had only been drunk twice in my life - once at a kegger up near Spring Creek when I was a junior and once with a group of other loser guys who couldn't get a date for prom. I was a sullen kind of a drunk, not the rowdy type like most of my school mates. I wondered what type of drunk Whittaker would be. I liked Whittaker for the most part. Some of his habits were a little annoying, but some of mine were to him also. That's just part of being roommates.

I went to the drug store and got some Aleve. Ever since Steve moved out, I'd been having headaches. I got some chips and cookies and several Cup of Soup's that we liked to keep in the dorm. Whittaker liked Pop-tarts so I bought several varieties as a favor to him. I walked through the greeting card aisle and they'd put out the Valentine's Day cards. I stopped and browsed through them, wishing I had a reason to buy one. I read some of the sappy poems until I was thoroughly miserable and then headed back to campus for lunch.

I saw Steve sitting alone at a table with a book propped open as he devoured the mountain of hash piled on his plate. I started toward his table but decided he would probably just be annoyed by me interrupting his study time. I sat several tables away where I could just observe him. He slammed his book closed and set it down. He began rubbing his eyes with both hands. He looked exhausted and sad. I swore he looked sad. Maybe I just wanted him to look sad. I looked away and started to eat, slowly falling into another memory of our time in Yellowstone watching the elk in the meadow outside of the restaurant window.

"Hey." I looked up. It was Steve.

"Oh, hey."

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"It's all good," I lied.

"That's good."

"You?"

"Good. I'm good too."

"Good."

"Yeah. Good."

"Well, see ya around," he said.

"Yeah. See ya."

I watched him leave and wanted to run after him, spin him around and kiss him hard on the lips. Instead, I watched the door close behind him as I shoveled another spoonful of potatoes into my mouth. All of a sudden, I couldn't wait to get drunk.

When Whittaker arrived with the beer, I logged off the gay porn site I was looking at just to pass the time. I don't think he saw what I was doing. I hoped not, at least. I stayed sitting up close to my desk while my boner receded. He proudly brandished two full six packs of PBR and a package of powdered donuts. They were a favorite of his. He set up his laptop so we could sit on his bed and watch it. We piled my pillows and blankets onto his bed and made up a makeshift futon of sorts to lean against. "I'm getting comfy," Whittaker declared. He stripped to his boxers and climbed up on the bed with a couple of beers. He started the movie. I was kind of surprised he didn't get naked like he often did. I quickly pulled my boxers back on while he was occupied with getting his pillows just right. Then, I climbed up next to him.

He was a Need for Speed fanatic and went on and on about all the different cars. He gibbered about horsepower and torque and declared in no uncertain terms his intention of owning a super nice, hot car some day. Surprisingly, I enjoyed the movie. We were on our third beer when the love scene came on and he started to rub himself through his boxers during it. That left the tip of his long dick protruding out the leg of his boxers and I couldn't help but steal a glance at it now and then. For a brief second, I wondered about it. I wondered what it would feel like. How it would compare to Steve's and I couldn't help but wonder what something that size would feel like shoved up my hungry, lonely ass.

Because I didn't like the aftertaste of the beer, I guzzled it three to four gulps at a time. Before I knew it, I'd drank six beers while he'd only drank four. I was definitely drunk. Not being a regular drinker, six beers in that time frame had broken down most of my inhibitions. "It's a fucking shame," I said grabbing at my numb face.

"What is?" Whittaker asked, smiling at me. He was obviously amused at my level of drunkenness.

"The waste. It's an awful big waste, you know?"

"What is?" he asked.

"Your dick. I mean jus' look at it lying there. Izz so fucking big and izz just being wasted. You really gots to get wid someone and use that monster. User it or loser it, I always say." I looked down. "I guess I'll lose mine now that Steve's gone. Poor Shaney." I patted my limp dick through my boxers.

"Nah, that's what hands are for, right?" Whittaker said making the jackoff motion with a grin.

"Not the same, dude. Not the same at all. Truss me, I know what I'm talking about." I waved my hand dramatically in the air as if conducting a choir. "I used to think that was all I needed. I don't need no fucking bff," I said. "No. No way. No sex for poor li'l Shaney here, juss a good rubdown now an' then with my handy dandy homo hand. My dad's real handy. He's good with tools. He tried to teach me to be handy too, but I never was. Measure twice cut once, Dad said." I started to laugh in a drunken fit.

"What's so funny?" Whittaker asked.

"I was juss thinking. It's a good think, er, I mean thing, that the doctor who did my circlecision measured twice and cut once. That would be bad if he didn't." Whittaker laughed at me, very amused at my drunken state.

"You're right. That is a good thing. I'm glad my doctor did too. Steve didn't have to worry about that." "Nopers. Stevie-O is uncut. He has an uncut tool. I like to play with the dangly skin on that hot tool."

"My dad was good with tools, did you know that?"

"Yeah, you told me that."

"Oh. Well I wasn't. Except for one tool, of course. I was handy with the tool between my legs. This baby right here." I patted my crotch. "But once you loser your vaginity with somebody like Stevie- O, your fucking hand jobs just don't do it for you no more. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah. I know what you mean, dude. I'd like to put my tool to more use, trust me. I just don't have anyone to use it with. I can't find any willing victims. I've never had a steady girlfriend and the occasional one nighters only last for one night, apparently. Guess that's why they call 'em one nighters."

"Hah, yeah dude, thazz why they call 'em one nighters," I laughed at the stupid, obvious statement. "Steve and I had a one mother," I said as I drained the rest of my can.

Whittaker laughed. "You're already drunk. I think you meant you had a one month-er."

"Thazz what I said. A one mother. We were a one mother from another brother. Hah! Gotcha on that one. Do you lub your mother?"

Whittaker stared at the ceiling. "Kind of. No. Not really. I don't feel any love from her so it's hard to love her back."

"Your mother doesn't love you?"

"Not really. Not like it's supposed to be like."

"Oh, that sucks, dude. I don't mean no disrespect like saying that your mother sucks, because I don't know that or anything, but she probably does suck your dad" I made another exaggerated wave. "I just mean it sucks for you about, uhh, what?" I got confused and moved on, "I lub my mother. She lubs me. We are a happy family. That rhymes. Sshh." I put my finger to my lips.

"What do you mean by sshh?" he asked.

"Don't tell my mother. She doesn't know I'm gay."

"Okay. I won't tell her. I promise."

"Oh, you're a good friend, dude. You're a good friend with a big dick - a big wasted dick." I started to laugh. "I think I need another beer. I want to be a big wasted dick like you. Hah!" I went to get up and fell off the raised bed and dropped hard to the floor. "Ow! I banged my fucking head." I rolled over and started to laugh even harder.

"What's so funny now?" Whittaker asked, laughing with me.

"I banged my fucking head," I laughed even more. "Get it? Banged? Fucking? Head? It sounds kind of dirty like, you know?"

"Not really," Whittaker said. "Dude, you get drunk way too easy."

"Yeah, that's me. I'm easy. Easy peasy. My mom says that. Does your mom say that?" I asked.

"No. My mom says shit like 'grow a pair and be a man'."

"Oh. Did you?"

Whittaker really laughed his ass off at this. "Oh yeah, I'm a good boy. See. He pulled his boxers down and showed off his big ass balls and super long dick."

"You are a good boy." I crawled up on my knees and pulled myself up to my feet. I dropped my boxers and jiggled my dick and balls in his face. "I wish my mom told me to grow a bigger pair. Do you think mine are too small? I bet Steve thought so. I bet that's why he left me. I bet that's why he always wanted to fuck me instead of me fucking him. That's okay, though, because I like getting fucked. Do you like getting fucked?"

"Don't know. I never tried it."

"You wanna?"

"Wanna what?"

"Try fucking."

"That's probably not a good idea. You're drunk and you'll regret it later."

"Why?"

"Because you're still in love with Steve."

I shook my head. "Nah. He's over me. Fuck him anyway. Whazza matter? Am I too little for you? Do I need to grow a pair and be a man or am I juss too ugly to fuck? I'm an ugly fuckling?"

"No. You're not too ugly to fuck."

"Well, maybe you juss need some more beer first." I got out the last couple of beers from our small refrigerator and handed him one. "Drink until I get good looking enough to fuck. You need some beer googles." Whittaker cracked up and he doubled over laughing.

"Climb up here. I got a surprise for you." I tried a couple times to climb up on the tall bed and then Whittaker grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

I slid into place and started to open my beer. Whittaker took it away. "You don't need any more. You already got your googles on," he said.

"So what you got for me. I like slurprises." Whittaker chuckled again. "That's cool. I like slurp- prizes too."

He climbed down and fiddled with the laptop. A gay porn film started about two guys who met at work in a warehouse. Before long, they were getting it on in the back office. "Cool," I said. "I like doing that kinda stuff. I'm gay, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I wasn't sure you'd like this, but you're okay with watching it?"

"I'm okay. You're okay. We're all okie dokie."

Whittaker had been slowly stroking himself and was stiff as an iron rod. He'd shed his boxers and I'd pulled mine off as well. He had cautiously reached over and taken my dick in his hand and was stroking me as well as himself. I watched it happen in some odd, fuzzy fascination. I was aware of it and happy enough to let it happen, but not fully engaged. Slowly, my dick responded until I was boned. In a brief moment of clarity, I felt a pang of guilt and questioned why I was allowing this to happen. I reached down and gripped Whittaker's arm but did not pull it away. The curiosity overwhelmed me and letting go of Whittaker's arm, I reached out and took hold of his massive pole and then added my other hand to begin stroking it properly. I was totally fascinated by it and got up real close to look at every detail of his monstrous cock.

"Izz so big. Izz a shame to waste such a big dick," I repeated. "I miss my Steve," I sighed. "He doesn't lub me anymore. Will you lub me?"

"Sure. I'll love you if you need me to."

"Will you fuck me?"

"Are you sure you want that?" he asked.

"Yeah, dude. Fuck me with your sweet, big dick so you don't lose it. Lose it or use it I always say."

"Dope," he said. "You got a rubber and lube?" he asked excitedly.

"Yup. In my desk drawer."

"Billy keeps one in his wallet. He likes to be prepared because he's a good scout. I was a bad scout. I never got my Eagle. I'm a quitter. My dad says so. Just like Steve and me. I'm just a quitter. Izz okay though. I'm good at quitting. It's impotent to be good at something."

"Important," Whittaker corrected.

"What is?" I asked.

"The word. The word is important, not impotant."

"Yeah, It's impotent to be good."

"Whatever. Don't be so hard on yourself. I bet you're good at a lot of things. So, who's Billy?"

"Billy's my brozzer. He fucks girls. He's not gay. He's a good fucker but sshh," I held my finger to my lips, "Mom and Dad don't know. I'm not a good fucker, I'm not a good fucker, I'm a good sucker. Steve said so. Wanna see?"

"If you want."

I rolled over and simply sucked his big dick into my mouth. I loosened up my throat and swallowed his large tip and as much of the shaft I could take. I couldn't go all the way down, as hard as I tried. I thought it might come out my asshole if I did, but I went far enough to make Whittaker start moaning intensely.

"Holy shit, dude. That's fucking awesome," he said between gasps. "You really are a good sucker." I went down on him for a while until he pulled me off. "If you really want me to fuck you, you gotta stop sucking me. I'm gonna blow."

"Okie dokie," I said. I rolled on my back and pulled my legs up. "Grow a pair and fuck me good like your mom told you to." Whittaker rushed to the drawer, rolled on the condom as far as it would go down his long shaft and then quickly lubed it up good. He scrambled back up on the bed and dropped in place over me.

He pressed his big dick to my hole and asked one last time, "Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure, buddy. Fuck me good." He smiled and pushed and I groaned. It was so big.

He pushed himself in and out going only half the length of his dick for a while until he asked, "Dude, this is so awesome, is it okay if I put it all the way in?"

It felt so different from when Steve fucked me and I didn't know if I liked it or not. A little guilt washed over me for being so easy. Easy peasy. But I managed to push it out of my impaired mind. "Fuck it," I mumbled.

"Cool!" Whittaker said, assuming I was giving permission for the full length penetration. "Here I go." There was intense anticipation in his voice. I was suddenly glad I could make him happy. He was a good friend. A good friend with a really long, thick dick.

"Okie dokie," I said.

"So fucking dope! Dude, I've never had it all the way in anyone before. I'm too fucking long for girls." He pressed even deeper and I felt my guts twist and turn to accommodate it and it felt like he was halfway up into my chest before he stopped. Then he began thrusting in and out. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

"Fuck me Steve. Fuck me good," I said out loud as I started getting into the experience being filled up the ass - something I'd discovered I craved as a pubescent boy. I'd only had a brush handle to fill the need back home, but a real live guy's dick was so much better.

He stopped a brief minute while I caught my breath and relaxed a little bit, then he resumed my pounding and quickly went into that crazed state of pre-orgasmic anticipation. After only a few minutes of getting my ass pounded by his massive tool, he cried out and slammed into me hard, bucking his hips and grunting. Then he relaxed.

"God damn! That could almost make me gay," he crooned. "That was fucking incredible."

"Suck mine now. I need to cum too," I pleaded.

"Uhh, I don't think I could do that."

"It's because I'm too ugly isn't it? Too ugly to suck but not too ugly to fuck. I'm just an ugly fuckling."

"No. Why do you keep saying that? You're not ugly at all. I'm the awkward, ugly one. It's not that you're ugly, it's just that I don't think I could put a penis in my mouth. That's a little too gay for me. How about I just stroke you off?"

After I sobered up the following day, I meant to ask him how sucking my dick could possibly be any more gay than fucking my ass. It seemed backwards to me. I never got the chance or remembered to ask when I was around him, though.

"Okay." I agreed, "I like stroganoff. My mom's really good at stroganoff. Me and my brothers love her stroganoff. Is your mom good at stroganoff?"

"No. No my mom's not good at strokin' off." He laughed and laughed, so I laughed along with him, but I wasn't sure why we were laughing.

"Sometimes," I continued, "my mom would ask my dad after work what he was in the mood for, and he'd say how about some stroganoff tonight. He liked it a lot. My friends loved to come over and get some of my mom's stroganoff too. None of their moms knew how. I said if they'd have their moms call my mom, she'd love to tell them how so they could get stroganoff at home like we got." Whittaker chuckled along at my stupid, drunk gibberish and was getting starting to get soft so he pulled his long dick slowly out of my ass. It took a long time and felt strange as it came dragging out. My ass instinctively tightened around it and didn't want to let it go. It made a funny sound when it plopped out and I laughed some more.

"Oh, shit."

"I don't need to, I just shit a big long one." I laughed again.

"No, dude. This is bad. The rubber fell off up inside you."

"Oopsie. Thazz not good, izz it?"

"No. Shit! Let me see if I can get it. Lift your legs back up."

"Okie dokie." I complied. He shoved a long, skinny finger up my ass and fished around.

"Mmm, I like that. Rub me right there. Oh yeah, thazz it."

"Dude, this is serious. I can't feel it."

"I can feel it good. Keep doing that." I grabbed my dick and started jerking myself off.

"No, the rubber. I can't feel the rubber."

"Oh thazz not good, is it?"

"No. That's not good. Maybe we should go to the clinic."

"Not yet, I need to cum first. Sure you don't wanna suck it?"

"No, dude. No sucking."

"Okie dokie. Juss keep your finger rubbing in there like that. Ooohh yeah, thazz the spot, good buddy." I suddenly erupted and cum spilled out my dick without the usual accompanying thrill. But I felt relieved in a way, like when a large sore zit finally pops. It felt a little bit good, just not as good as it felt when I was with Steve.

"You can stop now," I told him.

"You think you can shit out the rubber?" he asked, concerened.

"Sooner or later. Everything turns to shit sooner or later, you know? Just like with my school friends and playing sports and fighting with my brozzers, and now with lubbing Steve. It all just turns to shit and then you flush it down. Whoosh!" I made a dramatic sweeping motion with my arms.

"God, that's the saddest thing I've ever heard. Even from a drunk guy."

Whittaker walked me down to the bathroom and had me try to shit. I couldn't so we showered off and the water sobered me up some. Even though it was early, I went back to the room and lay in my bed. I watched more of the gay porno and cried a little every time the two of them fucked each other. I finally fell asleep. Sunday morning, I woke up with a monstrous hangover. The room was spinning and my head hurt. I tried to sit up but I got even more sick. I looked for someplace to heave and found nothing quickly. I pulled my desk drawer out and frantically dumped the contents on the floor. Then I vomited the acrid bile into the emptied drawer.

Whittaker got up and helped me with it. He found an empty coffee can and poured the nasty bile into it. Then we went to the bathroom and I showered. I tried to take a dump but I couldn't and I was worrying I might actually have to go to the clinic to get the damned rubber out of me. My head was pounding like a bass drum. I had a mini panic attack at the thought of Whittaker's cum being up inside me, and I prayed he was clean.

Back in the room, Whittaker dropped his towel and took mine from me. He hugged me to him. "Feeling better?"

"Some." I enjoyed feeling of being wrapped up in his big arms and having his warm flesh pressed against mine.

"Last night was awesome," he whispered into my ear. "You think you might want to do it again sometime?" He sounded hopeful.

The realization of what we'd done hit me as if I'd fallen into the thrasher back on the farm. I shook my head, no, against his breast. "No. I don't think I should. Nothing against you, but I wish I hadn't done that."

"Okay. No worries. I'm sorry. I was kind of afraid of that."

"Don't be sorry. It's not you, it's just me. I'm ..."

"You're still in love with Steve." Whittaker tightened his hug.

"Maybe."

"Maybe my ass, you called out his name when I was fucking you last night. Why don't you go talk to him and tell him you still love him and try to work it out?" Whittaker suggested.

"He won't. If he wanted to, he could have said something yesterday in the cafeteria. But he just said hello and walked off like he didn't care. He probably never really loved me. Who would really? I mean like why?"

"God, you really need to get over this insecurity complex you got going on. You're an awesome guy. You're fun and you're funny. You're kind and clever, and you're like sweet. Not to mention that you give the best blowjob on the planet. Holy shit, that was good head."

I chuckled. "You think so?"

"Dude, listen to me. You need to go talk to him. This is stupid. Jensen tells me that Steve keeps talking about you too. He says all he does is study and mope around and play his guitar you gave him. He's out late studying every night all alone and one night, as far as jensen could tell, he never did come home at all. Either that or he only slept a couple hours, got up really early and made his bed. Whatever, the point is that he's just as miserable as you are dude; just do it."

"Maybe I will. If you think I should."

"I think so. Just fucking do it."

Whittaker and I went to breakfast and all I had was tomato juice. He had a full breakfast. Steve was there sitting alone with a mound of eggs, bacon and hash browns on his plate.

"Go," Whittaker ordered. "Go talk to him." I swallowed hard and after a nudge from Whittaker, I walked over.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked.

Steve looked up and set his book down. He smiled. He looked over at Whittaker who nodded and then turned away.

I sat down.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Fine. How are you?"

"Me? I'm fucking miserable. That's how I am. I got drunk last night and I have a horrible hangover."

He furrowed his brow. "You got drunk?"

"Yeah." I sighed.

"Why?"

"Because I miss you. I miss you a lot and I wanted to not think about it for a while."

Steve studied me for a long minute and then admitted, "I miss you too, Shane. I'm sorry we split up."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Steve, I don't wanna fight. It was my fault for getting all up in your business that night. I don't need to know where you were. I'm sorry I pried. And if I made it sound like I was pouting over not getting enough sex, I'm sorry about that too. Sex isn't the important thing. I really just care about you and I was worried for you."

"Thank you, Shane. I could have sent you an email or borrowed a phone. I just didn't think about you worrying. And since you're not demanding to know any longer, I was with my English class study group that night. Todd is a local so he took us all over to his house to study and his parents ordered pizza for everybody. He continued, "Listen, I'm sorry I'd been neglecting you. I know it's my own stubborn fault for not dropping classes, but now I'm stuck and it didn't help when you beat me up over it."

"I'm sorry too. I promise to be more understanding and I mean it that you mean more to me than just the sex. That's really not why I love you. I love you for who you are and I love you for loving me back. That is, if you do love me."

"Of course I love you. I've been miserable this week without you. Let's get back together. Do you want to?"

I smiled so wide I thought my face would crack. "Hell yes, I want to! Today?"

"Sure. Today. I'll try and communicate better with you," he promised.

"And I'll try and give you more space."

"All right then," he said smiling. "Let me finish my breakfast and let's move back."

"Sweet! Whittaker said I should talk to you and he was right. I was worried that ..."

"That I wouldn't want to?"

"Yeah."

"I was worried you didn't want me to. So I guess it goes like that. I'm kind of messed up from my growing up situation so be patient with me, okay? I get kind of touchy about some things."

"You're not so messed up. I think you're the only normal one I know. Seems like everybody's messed up somehow. Poor Whittaker doesn't think his mother loves him."

"Wow. That sucks. I think that might be worse than being abandoned by your mother. At least you can pretend she did it for my good."

"Yeah. I think it really bothers him. I think that's why he's so overbearing around girls. He really wants a relationship with a girl. I don't think he even really cares about the sex as much as just the acceptance."

"Isn't acceptance what most of us want? By the way, that's a big relief that you don't care if we never have sex together. That's one less thing to work into my busy schedule. I was really worried about fitting in all the sex you want, being as horny as you are and all." I had no idea he was bullshitting me. I felt a little panic welling up. I actually thought I might vomit again.

"Well - I didn't really mean to imply 'never' if I did." The thought of not having sex with him was almost terrifying. I didn't know how I could go without it as much as I loved him and as horny as I got for him.

After letting me squirm a bit, he started to laugh. "Like I could go without it! Don't you think it's been killing me too that we have limited time for it? My quickie jackoff sessions just aren't cutting it."

"Whew, that's a relief. I mean if you didn't want to, I'd deal with it, but I'm glad you really do want it."

"You up for it right now?" he asked with a wicked grin. Holding up a strip of bacon, he said, "Pig grease makes me horny."

I laughed, "Oxygen makes you horny, dude." I worried if I was up to it. I wondered if I could take it up the ass again so soon after having Whittaker's big dick up there. I was actually quite sore from the previous nights pounding. Then it hit me hard. I'd had Whittaker's dick up my ass. I'd allowed myself to get fucked by Whittaker and I felt slutty somehow. How would Steve feel about that? I thought it was best not to tell him, but on the other hand, I wanted him to be honest with me. How could I demand honesty and not give it back in return. The long pause and vacant expression left Steve unsettled.

"No?" Steve looked puzzled. "Too hung over?"

"Yeah. Afraid so. That's it, I'm too hung over. Maybe tonight?"

"I'll be boned all day just thinking about it. Let's go tell Whittaker," Steve suggested.

"Yeah, let's go tell him." We walked over and sat down with Whittaker who was just finishing up his breakfast. I had no idea how he could eat after drinking the night before. The very sight of food was making me ill. He smiled when Steve scooted his chair up close to mine.

"We decided we need to be back together. You okay with switching back?" Steve asked.

"Sure. I've been doing a lot of switching things up lately." He gave me a grin and I feared he might even wink. "I'm glad for you guys. It was stupid to split up. You two belong together. No more fighting, all right?"

The three of us went back to the dorms and got the move over with. Jensen was off with his latest choir girl so he would be surprised to come home and find he had his old roommate back. When the move was done, Steve went off to study and although I wanted to be with him, I decided I should give him some space. I thought about going to Walgreen's and getting an enema, but decided to wait. I felt like I was being punished for cheating on Steve in a way by having that damn thing stuck up inside me. I tried to force a dump twice, but it was useless. My body's weird. I don't usually take a dump every day. Sometimes, I'll go three days and then have to go three times in that one day. I wondered what could happen if it did get stuck up there.

The whole day I was filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety over having sex again with Steve. I wanted to be close to him and make love in his magical way, but I was also worried that doing it might push Whittaker's condom further up inside me and cause real problems. It preoccupied my thoughts all day long.

Finally, Steve came home and I quickly logged off the medical site I was on trying to find out what the effects of having something like a used condom stuck up inside your colon could be. I never really found a very satisfying answer.

Steve dropped his backpack and it made an audible thud with all the heavy books inside of it. He came up behind me and draped his arms over me. I drank in his scent and smiled. I reached up and rubbed up and down his strong forearms as he nestled in to nibble on my neck. That drives me crazy and I immediately started boning up. Then I remembered the stupid condom and my dick shrank again. I wondered how I could have been so fucking stupid to let that happen.

"So how about it, you hot stud? You up for some action?" he asked.

I smiled and shrugged, trying to act indifferent. Then, I pulled my shorts and boxers down and looked at my partially limp dick. "How about it Shaney? You up for it?" Then I looked up at Steve and said, "Doesn't look like he's up for it tonight." I let myself think about having Steve's sweet dick up my horny ass and Shaney immediately started twitching and rising. I pushed the thought of the condom out of my mind and decided I'd deal with whatever consequences might come from getting fucked by my lover again. "Wait. I think he may be changing his mind." Then, when my dick bobbed up to full mast, I said, "Yep. Looks like he's up for it after all, if you are."

Steve was naked in seconds and we were pressed together, groping each other and making out. Our tongues dueled each other as I rubbed both of my hands up and down his naked back and sweet ass. It had been so long since I'd felt the firm muscles of my lover's body sheathed by his silky smooth skin. I couldn't get enough of it as we kissed voraciously, rolling our heads from side to side and rubbing noses as we did. I'd stop occasionally to grip both of his ass cheeks in my hands to pull him hard into my erection so I could hump and grind hard against his raging bone. Both of us were moaning in expression of our sexual starvation for each other. Steve was like a liberated war prisoner gorging himself on the feast placed before him. I pulled free of his mouth as he allowed my tongue to drag one last time across his teeth and dropped to my knees. I was just as anxious for it as he was even though I'd had sex with Whittaker the night before. This was different. This was lovemaking. This was Steve.

Still gripping his finely sculpted ass cheeks, I licked and sucked on his dick. I smacked my cheeks against the fleshy tube and enjoyed the feeling of its hardness resisting, and then springing free, as my cheek moved across it. I slapped it against my cheeks over and over, enjoying the show as it whipped from side to side. Then I slid lower and suckled each of his balls into my mouth and held them in suspense for a moment. I began swirling my tongue over the soft roundness of his overheated and cum filled testicles. "Oh my god, yes, yes, yes," Steve called out as I performed this on each alternating testicle. He was running his fingers through my blond locks and massaging my scalp as I worked his balls over. He was audibly panting and I could feel his desire to blow his load welling up within.

"Fuck me," I gasped. "I want it. Now!"

He wasted no time. He grabbed a condom and pulled it over his throbbing dick as I dropped down onto the floor and raised my legs up and spread them. Steve slathered lube over his condom covered joystick and grabbed his pillow from his bed before kneeling down on the hard floor between my legs. He quickly maneuvered the pillow under my lower back to give himself better entry access and squirted some lube in my crack. I grabbed my ankles and pulled my legs back until my knees were up to my shoulders. I was panting with excited anticipation. I felt my itching hole pulsating with impatience. I felt his finger work the lube around my entrance and then slip up quickly inside. Next, I got a whiff of his familiar, masculine scent, a scent I imagined to resemble the musk of a proud, bull elk. As he dropped down in place and pressed his dick to my pucker and pushed, I almost started crying for joy as the familiar pressure gave way and he drove himself up inside me, deep inside me. He held it for a minute, supported himself on his forearms and started tongue kissing me while he began thrusting. After experiencing Whittaker, taking Steve's was easy. "Easy peasy," I thought to myself and chuckled inwardly. I wrapped my legs around his back and reached up to pinch and flick his nipples while he humped me fast and hard. We both cried out in sheer ecstasy as he drove himself deep into me at the apex of his orgasm, causing us to erupt simultaneously. We groaned and shook and sweat and swore as the power of a love inspired orgasm took control of our bodies and minds.

When we were finished, I was lying face up on the floor and Steve was collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my legs around his back and slid them sensually along his back from his buttocks up to the middle of his back. He was gently stroking my closed eyelids and cheeks and planting gentle kisses on my forehead. His dick was still engorged and filling my cavern. I felt his lungs expand and fall as he tried to regain normal breathing. It was a lust filled, raw energy fucking he'd given me and I loved it.

Sadly, as with all good things, this had to come to an end. He reached down and gripped the rubber and began pulling himself out of me. "What the fuck?" he said in obvious confusion. Then I felt the most horrifying thing I think I may have ever felt in my life. I felt him reach down and pull something out of my clenched sphincter.

I immediately started thinking of a good lie I could tell. I wanted to lie. I wanted to do anything to keep Steve from getting mad again and storming off. I couldn't bear to go back to having him angry at me and losing him. "What?" I asked, knowing full well what.

"There was a rubber - a used rubber - up your ass," Steve said, lifting the offending bit of rubber up to examine it, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. He had a look of disgust on his face.

The fact that he knew it was a used rubber took away the lie I'd quickly concocted about using it on a dildo that I'd borrowed from Whittaker. I was heartsick and felt like I wanted to vomit into my drawer again. I simply couldn't speak.

"Oh my god," Steve muttered, "Whittaker?"

I felt like a trapped animal. I suddenly understood how a trapped animal could chew its own leg off to escape a trap. I would have chewed my own dick off at that instant to get away cleanly. Having no way out, however, I nodded and braced myself for the onslaught.

Steve surprised me as he'd done so often before. At first it didn't register, but as the sound falling on my ears finally sunk in, I realized that Steve was laughing. He was laughing. I couldn't believe he was laughing. "You think that's funny?" I asked.

"Well, not the part about Whittaker leaving a used rubber stuck up your ass, but the pitiful, horrified look on your face is freaking precious. You look like you were just forced to swallow a used rubber full of maggots or something. I'm guessing you're worried that I'm gonna get pissed off and pitch a fit over the idea that you let Whittaker fuck you while he was staying here."

"You're not?" I asked, almost disappointed that he wouldn't be mad about that.

"Well, I'm not thrilled with the idea, but I'm not sure I can blame you. I know how much you like it up the ass and Whittaker has a pretty dope dick. You'd gone without it for a while. I can totally see the temptation. Hell, I've wondered what it might be like sitting on that flagpole myself. And, it's not like I'm a virgin. I've given up my ass to lots of guys and shoved mine into a bunch of other guys before you. Besides, it's not like we were still together. I'm a little disappointed that you found a replacement dick so quickly, though."

"Oh, Steve," I sighed in relief. "I'm so glad you're being cool with what happened. I feel awful about it. I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been drunk." I wasn't sure that was true, but that was only a white lie. "I was just so upset over us breaking up and Whittaker was such a good listener and he had a gay porno we were watching and I just ..." I sucked in my lips and gave him my best puppy dog eyes.

Steve chuckled and filled in the blank, "had a weak moment?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Sounds like that hound dog, Whittaker, had some ulterior motives in getting you drunk if he brought a gay porno to watch."

"Yeah," I confirmed. "I hadn't thought about it, but you're right. I'm sure he was hoping it would happen like it did. But that's not really an excuse for me. I felt bad about it after we did it, and it wasn't nearly as good as doing it with you." Steve smiled over that kind of like I was blowing blue sky up his ass, but it was true. I liked it much better doing it with Steve than with Whittaker. Other than the novelty of the size of his dick, Steve was way better at stimulating me how I like it.

"I'm glad you like mine better, even if it is small."

"It's not small. His is just freakishly big. Honestly, I wished so much that we hadn't done it and I felt guilty about it right afterwards. Then, when you wanted to do me tonight, I was worried it might push the rubber way up inside of me and I might have to have it surgically removed or something. I should have just told you about it straight out but I was hoping I could just pretend it never happened. I didn't mean to like lie, I just ..."

"I get why you didn't tell me."

"So, you're not mad? You don't care that I let him do me?" I asked again.

"Nah, I'm not mad. Just don't do it now we're back together."

"No way!" I assured him. "Never."

"Does it bother you that I've had so much other sex before you?" Steve asked.

"No. You didn't even know me then."

"I know, but still. It doesn't bother you that I'm kind of used goods?"

"No. I don't even think about it."

Steve smiled. "Good. Maybe in a way, this whole thing was good. I always worried that once you found out I'd been so sexually active before meeting you that you might be freaked by it and want to move on."

"What? No way. I love you, Steve. I love you more now than ever before. Thank you for forgiving me for being so stupid and so - weak."

Steve leaned down and kissed me gently. We made out a little before getting up and cleaning up as best they could with Wet Wipes and a towel. We crawled into my bed together and cuddled up. We fell asleep and I was so relieved to have Steve's arms wrapped over me considering what could have happened.

Just before daylight, his alarm went off early and he separated himself from me. We didn't fit well in the small beds but we'd been so tightly glued to each other during the short time we'd had to sleep, that it didn't matter. He turned off the alarm and searched out a towel for each of us. "Let's go get properly cleaned up."

Reluctantly, I climbed out and followed him to the showers. It was early and no one was there so I dropped my towel and exposed my morning woodie. We each rinsed our stalls and then climbed into them. I let go a solid stream of piss against the back wall of the shower that forced its way out of my morning wood. I was just finishing my hair when the curtain opened and Steve stepped in, pulling the curtain back closed. "What the ..."

"No one's here and if someone comes, oh well," he smirked. He took over and finished shampooing my hair which was delightful. My dick sprang to action and Steve turned me around so that his dick pressed into my ass crack while he took two handfuls of shampoo suds from my hair and began working my dick and balls with it. Slowly, he rubbed himself up and down my crack while he tenderly jerked me off with the slippery shampoo. The sensations on my dickhead were so intense that I couldn't stop squirming like a fish out of water. In no time, my knees weakened and buckled. He took his hand off my balls and wrapped it around my midsection to support me while he pumped my morning juices out of my expanded dick.

While I was recovering, he rinsed the remaining suds from my hair and then nibbled on the back of my neck until I got my strength back. I turned and kissed him and then I dropped to my knees. I directed him back against the wall and immediately took his full length into my mouth. I worked him over, deep throating his dick on each dive until he groaned and grabbed two handfuls of my freshly washed hair and unloaded into my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could and the rest dribbled down my chin and chest.

"That was awesome. Thanks," he complimented. "You are the best ever at that."

"My pleasure. Everyone needs to be good at something. I love being your sucker."

"You know what PT Barnum said," Steve told me.

"No," I chuckled knowing some kind of lame joke was coming. "What did he say?"

"He said, 'There's a sucker born every minute, but a swallower, that's harder to find.'" We started to laugh together and fell into each other as we did. I peeked out and since we were still alone, we exited together and dried off.

As we dressed, I told him, "Steve, I feel bad about giving you crap earlier over being so busy. How about instead of me whining at you, I help you?"

"Hell yeah. You serious?"

"Totally."

"Awesome. Well, I really need a thesis and outline done for Tuesday. Can you help me on your laptop?"

"Done. Show me your notes."

After breakfast, we headed to the library and found a table on the second floor and spread out. I opened my laptop and logged on. Checking my email before getting started, I had an email from my brother Tom at Dartmouth, a Nigerian prince who needed my help hiding $5 million dollars in my bank account for a sizable fee, some other less interesting spam and a notice that my bank account statement was available for review. I decided to read Tom's email later and logged out.

We worked on different assignments before heading off to our classes. That afternoon we met back up at the library to work on the thesis for his English class paper.

I took Steve's notes and started working on a thesis and outline for the topic, "The Political Implications of International Sports." It was an intriguing topic and after about an hour of surfing articles on it, I had what I considered to be a reasonably solid thesis statement and supporting articles to use for references later. I laid out a quick outline with a suggested opening paragraph thrown in for good measure.

I was thrilled at Steve's reaction to it. He loved it and went on and on about how well done it was. I couldn't help beaming. I was more excited about the approval from Steve than the actual praise he was heaping on me. "Come over here, I need to show you something in that stack." He motioned toward the book stacks. I followed him wondering what he had to show me. Probably where the books on sports were located, I thought. Once we were about half way down, he stopped, peered down the aisle and then swept me into his arms. "What I needed to show you is my appreciation."

He pulled me in tight and started tonguing me. I succumbed quickly and we battled tongues for minute or two before he stepped away. "Thanks. You have no idea how happy it makes me that you're willing to sacrifice your time to pull my stubborn ass out of the fire here."

"That's what friends, and lovers, do. Right?"

"I guess so. I've just never ..." After an emotional pause, he pushed his sad past away and said, "I've just never been so happy. I didn't think I deserved to be so happy. Maybe that's what love is - happiness."

"Neither have I. I can't believe how great it feels to be accepted and loved by someone - especially someone as wonderful as you."

A couple of girls started into the end of the row we were standing in and then stopped short and giggled. "Sorry, we'll come back," the short red head said. They retreated.

We just stood there in spite of their interruption, holding hands and staring lovingly at each other until I said, "All right, enough lollygagging, as my old man says, get your ass back to work." He chuckled and followed me back to the desk giving me a playful swat on my butt. He borrowed my laptop to download his math and music theory homework.

I did some of my own homework and asked him, "Why don't you have a laptop or even a notebook of your own? They aren't that expensive anymore. And how can you stand not having a phone? Eight year olds have phones nowadays."

"Not orphaned eight year olds. For one thing, I don't have the money for it. I have to be careful with my money, because it's not really mine. I'm here because someone else is paying my way. But besides that, I just can't."

"Can't? Can't what?" I asked.

"How's your homework coming along? What say we go get some dinner?" Steve asked, ignoring my query.

"No you don't. You are not just changing the subject on me. What did you mean by can't?"

"I meant, that I can't talk about it anymore because I'm hungry, famished even."

"You are impossible. You know that? Huh? Do you know that?" He just smiled his infectious smile and I knew I wasn't getting anything else out of him. I shut my laptop lid and pulled on my hoodie.

At the cafeteria, we sat together in a booth and I stared at the pile of food heaped on his plate - make that plates.

"Where do you put all that?" I asked incredulously.

"What?" he grinned. "That's not so much. I'm a growing boy, you know?"

"You must have a hollow leg," I said, copying something my dad used to say about Billy and Karl, who were both big eaters.

"Mmph, I do," Steve mumbled out with a mouthful of dinner roll slathered with butter and grape jelly. "It's the third one between my legs."

"Well," I laughed, "If you're filling that one up, then I'm all for it. Eat up." He chuckled.

"I suppose you wish I was as big as Whittaker. Now you've had that monster up there, you're probably pretty disappointed with my little dick," he said. Another massive pang of guilt flooded over me. God, I wished I hadn't been so stupid. I wanted to blame it on being drunk, but I knew I wasn't so drunk I didn't know what I was letting Whittaker do to me. I wanted it. I wanted his big dick up my ass. I wanted it because I missed getting fucked but also because I somehow felt like I was getting back at Steve by doing it. Deep down, I knew I'd wanted it and even though Steve had so easily forgiven me, I still felt guilty over it.

"You got all I need or want, dude." He smiled back and stuffed half a roll in his mouth. I shifted the conversation to his English paper, and math, and his music class while we ate. The conversation turned light and fun. We joked and chided each other good-naturedly. Whittaker showed up and joined us, sliding in next to me.

"Hey."

"Hey," we responded back.

"Going running in the morning? Six?" he asked me.

"Sure. Looking forward to it." I responded.

"Me too," Steve added. We both looked at him in surprise. "I've got to get back into running. I'm getting flabby."

"Wow. Awesome," I said. "Don't you have to study though?"

He smiled at me and answered, "Yes, but I need to go running too and I need to hang with you guys. I don't want to be a dull boy like Shane here accused me of becoming. With your help on my classes, I can manage now." Steve said. Then he smirked and said, "Besides, I'm not sure I can trust the two of you alone."

I shot him a questioning and hurt look. He grimaced. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Whittaker raised an eyebrow over the comment but held his tongue. "So it looks like you two have kissed and thoroughly made up," Whittaker said. "Bet the making up part was hot. Sorry I missed it. You could have invited me, you know."

"Yeah, right," I said. "That was a onetime thing. Don't count on any encores." I was referring to Yellowstone, of course, but Whittaker took it wrong at first, then I could tell he got it.

"Ahhhh, c'mon. Throw a poor, lonely dog a bone." He cracked himself up and shook with stifled laughter. Then he cocked his head back and howled like a dog at the moon.

Steve devoured the last bite of chocolate cake and said, "Let's go. I do need to study now if we're going running in the morning.

"I'll come help," I offered.

"Yeah, I bet you'll come help him," Whittaker smirked. "More like you'll help him cum. See you two in the morning at six then." He waved us off. It was a peaceful feeling as we walked in the chill of the evening air with the long shadows of the trees lining the sidewalks. All seemed right with the world again as I strolled along next to my handsome lover. The sunset was casting the long shadows foreboding the coming night and its sullen darkness. The darkness seemed less frightening since I had Steve spending the nights with me once again.

We worked on math until it was nearly midnight before stripping naked and climbing together into my bed. Steve pushed me gently toward the wall, rolling me onto my right hip. Then he snuggled up against me and spread my cheeks to allow his soft member to lie within them. He curled up against my back and draped one arm and one leg over me. Safe and secure within his embrace, I didn't mind the complete lack of light in the room as we drifted into blissful sleep.

Tuesday morning set a new pattern for us as we woke at ten to six, tossed on our running gear, and rushed out to meet Whittaker. After stretching, we started running and at mile three, Steve complimented me on my new found endurance. I'd come a long way since I'd last run with Steve. Running for the past weeks with Whittaker had helped me build my lung capacity and ability to run a longer way without sucking wind. It felt good.

We got back to the dorms, showered, dressed and headed to our various classes. I logged into my email during my first class while the professor was droning on about something I already understood. I pulled up the email from my brother, Tom, at Dartmouth. He rarely emailed me. I rarely got emails from anyone actually. What I read surprise me. Tom wrote that he had been given a high end laptop from a particular professor that he helped grade papers for. He had sort of been taken under the wing of this particular professor, a former deputy attorney general for Montana. It was this professor who convinced Tom to focus on law for a profession. Since he had a new laptop, he offered his old one to me. He said he would ship it to me if I was interested. I instantly thought of Steve. Here was a chance to get him a free laptop. I was excited because it would make the perfect Valentine's gift. I immediately shot back an email that I was definitely interested and explained how Steve couldn't afford a laptop but needed one badly. Tom said that was cool and that he'd send it right away. I confirmed my mailing address and thanked him. He sent back a smiley face icon with a "luv ya brah" signature.

Our Yellowstone group met for lunch each day and it was fun to hear Jensen's fascination with the various girls he was chasing. He was perpetually horny. Whittaker was perpetually frustrated. We shared interesting events from our day and we sort of bonded into a little friendship posse. Since Steve and I were out to both of them, it was nice to be able to speak freely about it when we were together. Occasionally, little good natured jokes would be made about us by Whittaker and Jensen. When we were alone in the commons or in our dorm rooms, Steve and I would sit close and hold hands in front of them and it was taken as completely normal. Whittaker and Jensen both were completely cool with our relationship, even when we smooched now and then.

Over the course of the next week, Steve and I grew ever closer, sharing the same bed each night cuddled together. I got more and more excited for Valentine's Day and once the laptop arrived, I could hardly stand it. I got on the net and found a great, gay friendly place to have a romantic dinner together. I made reservations for Plonk, a nice restaurant and wine bar downtown on Main. It was pricey, but with my job, I was okay with spending a little money to celebrate our first Valentine's together.

"Steve," I said, following our evening sex on Friday, "Valentine's is coming up next week."

"Mmm, I guess," he mumbled back as he stroked my hair.

"So, I made reservations at this place called Plonk downtown. The net says it's gay friendly and they have gay friendly nights on Tuesday's and Wednesday's so since you don't have any classes on Wednesday afternoon or evening, I thought that would be a perfect day to go celebrate. And I have another little surprise for you."

He stopped stroking my hair and rolled off me. He propped himself up on one elbow and stared into my eyes. "Don't be spending a lot of money on me. It will just make me feel bad that I can't do it back. Promise me."

"Well, okay, I promise. My surprise didn't actually cost me anything. But, I think you'll really, really like it."

"What about your job? You work until like 6:30 or 7:00 doing tutoring on Wednesdays, don't you?"

"Normally, but I got one of the fifth grade teachers to cover for me."

"That's nice. You really enjoy working with the kids, don't you?" Steve asked.

"I do. I like it a lot. I'm actually thinking hard about becoming an elementary school teacher. I love the kids and seeing them learn and discover things - it's rewarding. I wish you'd come over and visit me sometime to see me in action with them."

"Yeah, I know you want me to, but I can't. I'm so busy and I really can't be in that kind of an environment. I'm sorry. There's one little problem with becoming a grade school teacher. You're gay. No one wants a gay guy teaching little kids. How will you hide it?"

"First of all, that's not true. Times are changing and the stereotypes are falling fast. Thankfully, the prejudice against gays is getting better all the time. Sure, there will be some bigoted idiots out there who assume gays are pervs, but especially if we're in a more metro area, it won't be a problem."

"I hope you're right. Seems like stereotypes and bigotry die hard though. It's probably better I don't come around your school because if anyone picked up on our gay relationship, I'm willing to bet they'd fire your ass. So tell me, what's this big surprise you've got for me that didn't cost you anything?"

"Nope. You have to wait and see. But you will definitely like it. It's something you need and want."

"If it involves your tongue, I'm sure I will. My god, you give awe-ma-zing blow jobs and your rimmings. I love your rimmings." That made me smile. That had become one of my favorite ways to please him and please him it did. Rimming drove him absolutely crazy. Once, he even came while I was doing it to him even without touching himself. I had my nose pressed deeply into his crack and my tongue shoved up his hole as far as it could go. He was clutching the sheets and literally screaming in ecstasy.

"You like it then?"

"You fucking know I do. And I love you, too. I think I'm feeling like I actually know what love means now. Thank you for loving me back." He bent in and kissed me.

"What kind of place is this Plonk?" he asked as he draped himself back over me.

"It's a wine bar and restaurant. We obviously can't have wine, but they serve some non-alcoholic drinks that may be fun. I'm thinking about a virgin strawberry daiquiri."

"You're so cute. I love how you plan these adventures for us. Lucky you do because if it was left up to me, we'd be a very dull couple."

"That's me all right. Party animal," I chuckled and he joined in. Truth was, we were both pretty tame and not at all the partying type. We snuggled together, turned off the light and fell asleep, happy and satisfied.

Before I fell asleep, Steve whispered in my ear, "C'mon, what's my surprise?"

"Nope. You just have to wait."

"Don't make me torture it out of you," he joked as he tweaked one of my nipples.

"Ow! No fair," I cried out and brushed his hand away. I smiled, fully content as he draped his arm over me and snuggled just a little closer.

#####*

Sorry for the long delay, but the editors did their job and let me know I needed to rework this chapter. I think it is much better than it was. I hope you agree.

Much of the next chapter is already written because of the rewrite of this one so hopefully the next chapter comes out faster. No promises, though.

Hans Schreiber hschreiber@hushmail.com