Falling For My College Buddy

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Falling For My College Buddy

by Harrison Morris

I picked my phone up from the nightstand and looked at it. Almost 3:00 a.m. Someone must really hate me. I'd rung in the new year watching the ball drop on TV, had a celebratory glass of champagne, and sang Auld Lang Syne...all by myself. I kept the TV on for a little while afterward to watch some more of the festivities, and shuffled off to bed around 1-ish, so it was a rude awakening almost two hours later to be snatched from my dreams by the sound of incessant banging on my condo door. Whoever this was at my door owed me big time! I had just gotten to the good part of a particularly sexy dream where I was having a three way with the DILFy head coaches of two NFL teams from cities in the northern portion of the U.S.

My eyes still bleary from being rousted from my slumber, I yanked the door open, prepared to fight whatever inconsiderate asshole was on the other side. However, all of my anger dissipated in an instant when I saw Brett standing there, looking like a sad little puppy who had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Brett...?" the minute his name escaped my lips, I heard how heavy with sleep my voice was. "What's...what's going on?"

"Hey... I'm really sorry to wake you up. Can I come in?"

If I'd been more alert in the moment, I might have asked a few other questions. Instead, I stood aside and motioned him in.

"Did you call or text me and I missed it?" I could still hear the sleep in my voice, but I felt like my head was starting to clear.

"No. I figured you'd be asleep already. I know your New Year's routine. I'm sorry to show up here unannounced but I didn't know where else to go."

Suddenly, my mind seemed sharp. Being told you're essentially an old maid who stays home alone all the time will do that do a guy. "Hey! I might've had plans. You don't know that!"

Brett cocked his eye at me and gave me a wry grin that wordlessly said, "We've been friends for over ten years. I know you almost better than you know yourself."

"Fine!" I admitted unprompted. "The only plans I had were to curl up on the couch and watch the ball drop. So, tell me... To what do I owe this late night wake up call?"

Brett's mood shifted back from teasing his good buddy to the way he'd appeared when I first opened the door. "It's bad, Ray. Real bad. I really screwed up this time." In that moment, I knew he was right. Brett never called me by my first name unless the world was coming to an end.

Brett and I first met Freshman year of college when we were assigned to share the same room in our dorm. We couldn't have been more different from each other...he a total jock wide receiver who was obviously destined to be on our college's nationally-ranked football team and I, an introverted bookworm more interested in his studies than being a BMOC. On paper, us rooming together should've been a complete train wreck meant to end in disaster. Instead, we forged a surprisingly fast friendship. He brought me out of my shell and introduced me to most of his friends around campus. I wasn't exactly part of the popular crowd, mind you. More like...oh, I don't know. Popular-adjacent? For my part, my dedication to schoolwork seemed to make Brett want to earn his grades himself instead of whatever deal the school's athletic director and football coach usually made with professors on the football team's behalf to give players good grades.

I wasn't out yet...not even to myself. At that time, I considered fooling around with guys to be just experimentation. But the reality was far from that. After all, to experiment, don't you have to try all the flavors of the rainbow and make a decision which color is your favorite? I wasn't screwing around with girls. Experimentation was just a line I was feeding myself as a protective shield. Looking back, Brett must have known, even though I was trying to hide it from everyone and present myself as asexual as possible...except for the occasional random hookups I'd have.

One night late Freshman year, he came back to our room drunk and horny with a terrible case of blue balls after his girlfriend had gotten him worked-up and then decided not to put out after all.

"Preston," he slurred as he lay on his bed, propped up on his elbows. He always called me by my last name. Normally I would've been irritated by it, but I always found Brett so damn endearing - like a baby kitten who couldn't find his way out of a paper bag - that I let him get away with doing it. "You like sucking dick. You mind helping me out?"

Of course, I'd obliged and helped him get his rocks off that night. We never talked about it afterward...was I okay?...was he okay?...how did he know about me when I had done my best to keep is secret?...those sorts of questions. Don't misunderstand. We certainly didn't pretend as if it had never happened. Whenever Brett needed to get off, he came to me. It was usually just a couple times a month. But then he started coming to me more frequently. I started to wonder what it all meant, but knew better that to broach the subject with him.

Come Junior year, Brett's star had really started to shine on the team. Usually, the quarterback is each team's star athlete. Not on our team. On our team, the star attraction was Brett Kemp. He was almost certainly headed for the pros. Junior year is also the time when students start moving out of dorms and into off-campus apartments. A lot of his buddies, who I had become friendly with because of Brett, were after him to go in and rent a really nice, upscale place in one of the nicer parts of the city about 10 minutes from campus. But Brett resisted, telling his incredulous friends that he was gonna rent a place with me and that's all there was to it!

What else could he say? He certainly couldn't tell them the truth...that he wanted to continue to be roommates with his fuck buddy. Yeah. We'd graduated from me giving him blow jobs to everything else that went along with man-to-man sex. Sometimes our time together was all about Brett getting his needs met. Sometimes he saw to it that I was taken care of too. But we still didn't talk about what it all meant. It was just a fact of our friendship. He still dated girls and I would've never pressed him on the issue.

Only... Things had changed for me. When we first started up, I did my best to compartmentalize. Brett was my friend and I was just helping him out in times of need. Nothing more than that. By the end of Junior year, I'd had an epiphany. If I'd been in a cartoon, there would've been a light bulb turning on above my head. I'd fallen for Brett. I wasn't just helping out a buddy anymore. I was fucking around with someone I had feelings for.

Once I'd had that realization, things got much worse for me, if you can imagine. Now, I had to watch with a lump in my throat as he brought a steady stream of ever-changing campus girls and other college football groupies back to our place and made out with him in front of me. When he and I would fuck, I'd have to use all of my will power to keep myself from inadvertently professing my feelings to him.

By the end of our Senior year, keeping the secret had become too much of an albatross around my neck and I knew I needed to finally unburden myself. The opportunity presented itself when, after a freak accident during the third-to-last game of the season, an injured ankle ended any hope Brett might have had of going to the NFL. It was a tragic turn of events for a guy who had spent the past four years of his life working toward that goal. But it wasn't just tragic from that perspective. Almost everyone who had hung around disappeared after the injury. No more girls from campus looking to crawl into his bed and onto his dick. Even most of the guys from the team abandoned him when it became obvious he wasn't the BMOC on campus anymore. So much for every movie with a sports theme where the rest of the guys on the team all rally around an injured teammate.

For a couple weeks, Brett had been caught in a shame spiral of self-pity until I took matters into my own hands and decided to give him a pep talk. "You can save your breath, Preston," he insisted. "I can see with my own eyes that I don't have anyone left. I'm not useful anymore now that I'm not a star football player."

"Hey, you're not completely alone!" I was actually a little offended. "I'm still here!"

"That's different," he scoffed. "You live here."

"I'm still your friend," I insisted. It was a shame. He was so emotionally wounded. All I wanted to do was pull him into a big hug and kiss him with as much passion as I felt inside about him.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, Preston. My days as a football player are over. I'm of no use to you anymore just like I'm of no use to anyone else."

"Brett, we aren't friends and roommates because you played football."

He looked at me, shocked at what I'd said. "We're not?"

"Of course not! We're roommates because a computer put us together before the start of our Freshman year and we're friends because you didn't give up on a shy kid from out of state and decided to drag him along with you to almost every party you went to."

In spite of himself, Brett burst out laughing and then reached over to pull me into a headlock, playfully grinding his knuckles into the top of my head before releasing me after a few seconds. "You're such a dork, Preston!"

"I prefer nerd," I shot back at him and he laughed again. "Listen, Brett. I want you to stop this pity party you've been throwing for yourself for the past couple weeks. I know it's been rough on you, but you're a lot better off than you know. You're not like a lot of the other guys on the team who had their grades handed to them. You earned every single good grade you got. You're not graduating with a 3.9 GPA because A.D. Wilkins or Coach Hobbs got it for you. That was all you. It's not going to be easy, but you're going to end up finding yourself a good job. And as for all those fairweather friends and football groupie whores who aren't coming around anymore...fuck `em! You don't need people who are only going to abandon you when times get tough in your life. Better you find out now instead of later on. You're a good man with a lot to offer, Brett Kemp. Now start acting like it!"

"Damn, Preston," Brett actually looked touched by what I'd said. "You know how to play to a guy's ego, don't you?"

"It's all the truth." Without thinking I reached over and put my hand on his knee.

It was meant to be a supportive gesture. Instead, Brett looked down at my hand and then back up into my eyes. He reached out and pulled my hand into his straining and still growing crotch. Half an hour later, we lay in his bed catching our breath with a huge load of cum starting to trickle out of my ass. Having an injured ankle obviously hadn't hampered his ability to fuck like a pro.

He looked over at me with a big, goofy grin on his face. "Whew! Between that pep talk and what we just did, I feel like I'm on top of the world. You really are the best, Preston."

I don't know what came over me. I was caught up in the emotion of it all and my feelings for Brett weren't ever really too far from the surface anyway. "Brett, I need to tell you something."

"What's up?" he replied, wiping his face with his hand and taking a deep breath, still recovering from the grade-A fuck he'd just thrown me.

"When I said that we're friends, earlier. It wasn't entirely the truth."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we ARE friends, but that's not we are...at least not to me."

"Oh? Tell me, then. What else are we?"

I think he assumed I was going to tell him that I think of him as a brother. Instead, I told him how I really felt. "I spent a long time lying to myself...first about my sexuality. But your silent acceptance and even inclusion in your life on campus helped me eventually come to terms with who I am and thrive in it."

He grinned at me and reached over to put his hand on my shoulder. "Everything you said to me out there earlier, it applies to you too, Preston. You're a good guy with a lot to offer. Someday, you're gonna make some guy one helluva boyfriend...or husband, if that's what you want."

"In that spirit," I continued before I lost my nerve. "I need to tell you that I also spent a long time denying how I've come to feel about you. We never talked about what the blow jobs and eventually fucking meant. I tried to tell myself it was just sex and I did a good job of convincing myself of that...until last year. I realized that I've fallen in love with you, Brett. I kept it secret for as long as I could, but I can't keep it in anymore...especially after the fuck we just had. You deserve to know how you make me feel...how I feel about you."

For nearly a minute, a deafening silence hung in the air. Brett leaned his head back against the headboard and looked up at the ceiling. "Don't leave me hanging, Brett," I implored him. "Say something...anything."

Finally, after a few more seconds of no response, he turned and looked at me. "I really wish you hadn't just said that."

Immediately, I felt my stomach drop. "Why?"

"C'mon," he cocked his head at me in a knowing look. "You know why."

"I''m afraid I don't." I started to feel defensive. "Why don't you enlighten me."

"I'm not gay, Preston."

"I never said you were."

"Well, I'm not into dudes, either."

"My ass begs to differ," I retorted dryly. When he just stared at me, obviously unsure of how to respond to what I'd said, I kept talking. "You mean to tell me that everything we've done together over the past four years has been just sex to you?"

"Yep. Nothing more than," he said, matter-of-facty.

Now it was my turn to take a knowing tone with him. "C'mon, Brett..."

"C'mon what?"

"You started this. Even if it was only one guy helping another out in the beginning, you're the one who kept it going. I never once came to you for sex. You came to me all the time. You moved me in here with you before Junior year. You're the one who wanted us to start fucking. Hell, you're the one who initiated sex just now. So don't try to make out like you don't have any skin in this game. No one fucks a guy the way you just fucked me if you don't feel the same way about me that I just told you I feel about you."

"You're disgusting!" he surprised me by proclaiming as he climbed out of bed and began getting dressed. "You're taking something innocent with absolutely no emotion behind it and trying to turn it into some sort of four year-long affair. You're trying to convince me that I feel some way about you that I don't!"

Things only got worse from there. We fought for the next hour and said a lot of terrible things to each other. The sort of terrible things you're not supposed to actually say...things you can't ever take back. For the rest of the semester until graduation, we continued to live together, but we each acted like other didn't exist. We did our best not to be around each other and those few times we were in each other's presence, an icy silence hung between us. I don't know what was on Brett's mind, but I was torn to pieces. I was pissed at how he'd acted and the things he'd said to me, but I still loved him, too. Those feelings didn't just go away.

Any hope that we'd have some sort of After School Special-style reconciliation after graduation where we came to terms, worked everything out, and continued our friendship was dashed right before the big day. I'd gone back home for a long weekend before the ceremony and drove my parents back to campus. When I arrived back at our apartment, Brett was gone. Not like "out on an errand," either. I mean...G-O-N-E, gone! While I was back home, he'd packed up all of his stuff and moved out...to where, I don't know. No note, no goodbye, nothing. Just his key laying on the kitchen counter along with his portion of that month's rent. It was pretty devastating.

The only time I saw him after that was at graduation as he walked across the stage to get his diploma. In the commotion after the ceremony, there was no way I could track him down to try and talk. I ended up keeping the apartment now that college was behind me as I attempted to make my way in the real world. I kept hoping he'd show up at the door one day or I'd get a phone call or text from him...but one never came. Eventually, I was able to move on with my life and even managed to have a couple of long-term relationships. But I don't think my feelings for Brett, or the way he'd hurt me, was ever too far below the surface, even if I was doing my best to convince myself I was over it.

Five years had gone by since graduation when I got a text out of the blue from Randy Hauser, inviting me to a gathering of some of the cool-kid crowd from school. I was surprised to receive an invitation. I hadn't really heard from any of that group since graduation and anyway, I knew I was only tolerated in that circle back in the day because I was Brett's roommate. Against my better judgement, I responded to the text and accepted the invitation.

When I showed up at the party room Randy and some of the others had rented out in his neighborhood to throw the party, I came face to face with none other than Brett Kemp. I shouldn't have been surprised he was there. After all, Randy was one of the few guys who hadn't dropped Brett like a hot potato after he'd injured his ankle.

In an instant, all of those feelings - the ones I'd stuffed down and pretended I'd dealt with - came rushing back. I wasn't over him. In fact, it turns out my feelings were as strong as ever. He was even more good-looking than he'd been when we were in college. He'd matured some and grown even more into his looks. The past five years had definitely been good to the guy.

I expected him to avert his eyes and run away just like he'd done right before graduation. Instead, he walked straight toward me and greeted me. The forced small talk was awkward...made even more awkward as I found myself drowning out his voice and paying more attention to his face and his body...and wondering if time had made his ability to fuck even better than it had been five years ago just like it had made the rest of him better.

Eventually, we made our way to a less populated corner of the party and addressed the elephant in the room between us. He apologized about the way he'd acted five years ago...the things he'd said to me and how he'd moved out without saying goodbye. To his credit, he stood there, took it like a man, and listened thoughtfully as I told him how hurt I'd been and how hurt I still was about the way things had played out.

Let me tell you. Anyone who says that stuffing your feelings down and not getting them out is the way to go doesn't know what they're talking about. Making peace with Brett and how our friendship had blown up immediately lifted a huge weight off of my shoulders. We didn't address everything. There was no talk about what had started that huge fight between us in the first place...my feelings for him and his seeming refusal to acknowledge that he might feel the same way. We'd gotten back to a good place and I wasn't ready to continue to rock the boat. I still had feelings for the guy, but right now it was enough to just be able to call him a friend again.

After getting that tough conversation out of the way, everything between us felt easier. I told him about my burgeoning career with a Fortune 500 company in the city and how I was working my way up the corporate ladder. He told me how he had gotten a job at our alma mater on the football team's coaching staff and was part of the radio broadcast team that called the team's games every week. I was impressed that he'd done so well for himself and was able to stay connected to football in some way, even thought he wasn't able to play anymore. For his part, he seemed happy for the strides I'd made in my own career.

By the time the party had ended, it felt like the past five years hadn't existed. Brett and I had seemingly slipped back into our old friendship. Our old friendship with an asterisk next to it. My unresolved feelings for him were still an unaddressed item between us. Maybe I was wrong, but it seemed as if something else was on Brett's mind that he wasn't verbalizing. Whatever the case, we parted ways promising to not only stay in touch but see each other soon. I thought it was just the normal lip service any one of us gives to an old friend you've run into after many years with no intention of following through with it. It turns out a few days later, I was proven wrong.

A text from Brett inviting me out to dinner surprised the hell out of me and not just because I hadn't expected to hear from him. He wanted us to meet not at a dive bar or the type of sporty establishment that he'd usually liked to frequent during his college days, but at an actual upscale restaurant. Part of me thought maybe this meetup was going to be about us talking over things we didn't clear the air about at Hauser's party and he didn't want the noise of a bar drown-out such a serious conversation. I texted him back, telling him I'd be there and was looking forward to seeing him.

When I showed up at the restaurant a couple days later, caught sight of him sitting at the table, and saw the way his face lit up as he waved me over, my heart melted. Yeah. I was still into him, damnit! This was going to be a problem. As we gave each other a quick bro hug and I sat down, I saw but didn't pay much attention to the fact that there was a third setting at the table.

"Listen, Preston. I hate to skip the pleasantries," he said, anxiety on his face, "but we don't really have much time. There's something I gotta tell you and I want to tell you before it's too late."

I was confused. Obviously this dinner wasn't to clear the rest of the air between us. But what it WAS about was suddenly an intriguing mystery. "Too late? Too late for what?"

He hesitated momentarily and then spoke. "There's something you need to know..."

Before he could say more, another man - a handsome guy who looked to be maybe two or three years younger than Brett and I - walked up to the table. "Hey! Sorry I'm early!" I watched him took at me with uncertainty before leaning down to kiss Brett on the cheek.

In a hushed tone, irritation evident on his face, Brett spoke to the newcomer. "What are you doing here, Matt?"

"You knew I was coming," Matt shot back, matching the soft tone Brett had used.

"Yeah," Brett looked nervous. "But we talked about this. You were gonna wait an hour or so before you showed up so Preston and I could have time to talk. I thought you were gonna spend time with your family anyway."

"THAT was a disaster. Mom and my sister started bickering and things escalated from there. It turned into a whole thing. I decided to get out of there. I didn't have as much traffic as I thought I was going to. I'm sorry I interrupted earlier than I was supposed to."

I was feeling like an outsider in the conversation and although I was starting to put the pieces together of who this Matt person was, I was still confused. I cleared my throat. "Does anyone want to clue me in on what's going on here?"

Matt turned to me and extended his hand. "I'm sorry, Ray. It's nice to meet you. I'm Matt....Brett's fiancé."

I think I covered my shock and - if I'm being honest - disappointment pretty well and cordially greeted this man who was apparently engaged to be married to the man I was still in love with. The way he kept looking over at me throughout dinner, I think Brett realized I was out of sorts, but I tried to put on a brave face. It turned out that Brett and Matt had met at one of the football team's games. Matt had been two years behind us and had a crush on Brett during his playing days. After learning Brett was now calling games on the radio and on the coaching staff, Matt had introduced himself after a home game. Friendship turned into something more and eventually progressed to a marriage proposal. I suppose I'd think it's actually a sweet story if I hadn't been so hurt.

Not long after dessert, Matt received a text from his family - something about the family tiff he'd mentioned earlier flaring up again - and decided to take his leave to see if he could broker peace in his family. I looked away as he and Brett kissed goodbye and then tried to smile sincerely as I shook his hand and told him how great it was to meet him.

After Matt was out of earshot, Brett looked at me. "Okay. Let me have it! I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Is that what we're doing? We're pretending?" Brett shot me that knowing, playfully condescending look we used to love to give each other so often to draw the truth out of each other. "You can drop the act. I know you're upset with me."

"I'm not upset," I answered honestly. "I'm surprised. This should've been just you and me. I shouldn't have had to find out that you're gay when your fiancé showed up unannounced."

"Surprise!" he said jokingly, which elicited only a look of disapproval from me. "Okay. I'm sorry. You deserved to find out differently. But if you remember back to when you first got here, I was trying to tell you when Matt arrived early. It's not my fault he interrupted me telling you."

"Okay. Let's say I give you the benefit of the doubt on that one and let it go. Let's move on to the other bombshell. Five years ago, you sat naked next to me in your bed - also naked, given that we'd just fucked - and told me that not only weren't you gay, but you weren't quote, unquote...into dudes. You can imagine how surprised I am to learn that you're engaged to be married to a man."

"I can explain."

I folded my arms and sat back in my chair. "I'm waiting on pins and needles with bated breath. This ought to be good."

"I did a lot of soul searching about a lot of things after college. One of those things was my sexuality. When we had our fight, it really touched a nerve in me and I needed to understand why that was. In college, you were the only guy I'd ever had sex with. I decided that I needed to see if being with other guys made me feel the same way being with you did."

"And?"

"And...it was a long road with a lot of exploration...some bad relationships and other bad experiences. But I came to the conclusion that you had been right all along that day that we fought. I'm gay, Ray."

There it was. My first name. Not "buddy," "man," "bud," or "Preston." He only used my first name when things were serious. He was being on the level with me. Even so, it didn't change the fact that I had carried a torch for this man for more than five years. He knew full well how I felt about him and yet I was finding out about all of this now, not earlier on.

"Congratulations, I guess...?" I was able to get out without sounding angry.

"It's not the level of excitement I thought it would be, but at least it's not `I told you so'," he grinned. I don't know what it was about that response, but the blasé way he was acting about all of this caused my floodgates to open. I could tell by the expression on his face as I spoke that he wasn't expecting it.

"Really, Brett?! Five years ago, I poured my heart and my feelings out to you. I told you that I was in love with you and you responded by turning around and walking out of my life. Did it ever occur to you as you were on this journey of self-discovery that my feelings hadn't changed? Don't you think - after everything we had meant to each other - that I deserved to be first in line to have a shot with you once you realized who you really are? Or maybe not. Maybe to you, I'm still that sweet, nice guy you met Freshman year at school...the one who should've just been grateful you included me in your social circle. The reality is I was only ever good enough to be a mouth on your dick or for my ass to be a depository for your cum, right? How could you possibly want to be in a real relationship with me?"

"Wow..." was all he said for a moment. He looked thoroughly shell-shocked. I couldn't blame him, really. I'd just unloaded a lot of pent-up emotion and frustration on him. "First of all, Preston. That was pretty harsh."

"You deserve it, asshole! You really hurt my feelings...both back then AND now."

"That's not what I mean. You were pretty harsh on yourself just now. Those things you just said about yourself and what I thought about you back then... They're not true. I considered you a true friend back then. You weren't just my roommate and someone I felt obligated to include at parties. You were my best friend." He looked around to make sure none of the restaurant's other diners were within earshot. "As for the sex, that's not true either. You were more to me than a warm body...MUCH more."

"Uh-huh... That's why it was so difficult for you to walk out of my life and leave me with a broken heart." I said, sarcastically. "You called me disgusting. That was the last sentiment about me that I heard out of your mouth."

"It was a shitty and a cowardly thing to do. I know it. You were getting too close for comfort and I said some things I shouldn't have said as a way of driving a wedge between us. I'm sorry about that. And as for a relationship.... You have to understand. This was three years ago. I hadn't seen you in two years. I thought you would be too upset with me to take my calls, texts, or to see me. Youre right, though. You should've been first in line. I'm sorry that it didn't work out that way. You have to understand, though. I had a lot of things to figure out about myself. I went through A LOT of guys before I decided to settle down with Matt. I didn't want you to be a part of that. You deserve a man who can be your one and only, not a guy who is going to make you a number on his roster. Back then, I was a number on a roster' kind of guy. Life's unfair sometimes, as I'm sure you understand."

"I suppose. What's done is done." I wasn't completely satisfied, but Brett had a made a good point. Timing is everything and life isn't always fair. And in this case, it wasn't.

"Besides," he continued, adopting a syrupy sweet tone of voice. "I always thought you were too good for me anyway."

I burst out laughing, grabbed my cloth napkin out of my lap and threw it across the table at him. "Jackass!"

"Are we okay, Preston?"

"No. Not completely. But we will be."

I shouldn't have let him off the hook so easily, but life's too short to carry a grudge, I guess. He wasn't married yet. I suppose I could've pushed the envelope and asked Brett how he really felt about me. Did he really love Matt? Now that he was ready to settle down, could he see the two of us making a go of it instead of he and Matt? But it seemed to me that too much water had already flown under that bridge. It was best not to go there.

In two months' time, Brett and Matt were married. I was Best Man at the ceremony. Yeah, it was awkward, but I couldn't say no when Brett asked. I'd suggested that maybe one of his friends who had known the two of them as a couple over the past three years would be a better choice, but Brett insisted. His best friend was back in his life and he wanted me standing up for him at the wedding. Obviously, Matt had no idea just how close Brett and I had been in college, otherwise I'm sure he wouldn't have been cool with me being Best Man.

By the way... Don't think I wasn't tempted to raise my hand when the reverend got to the part about anyone showing just cause why they shouldn't be married. But I was only tempted for a split second. Even though my feelings for Brett hadn't gone completely away, he deserved to be happy. I wasn't going to throw a wrench in that happiness for my own self-serving purposes.

Over the next few years, Brett and I kept in touch and hung out - just the two of us AND with Matt, too. Honestly, my feelings didn't completely go away, but they subsided somewhat. Seeing him happy with some other man began to get easier. It had been about a year since I'd seen Brett the last time - and about five years since he and Matt had married - when he showed up at my door on New Year's and stirred me out of bed.

"It's bad, Ray. Real bad. I really screwed up this time."

I looked him up and down, surveying for physical injuries. "You don't look hurt. What happened? You've got me worried."

"Can we sit down?"

"Sure." I motioned him over to the sofa and we sat next to each other. "Now what's all of this about?"

"You're SO going to judge me. This is the last place I should've come, but I didn't know where else to go!"

"Stop that!" I tried to reassure him in a `tough love' tone of voice. "You know you can always come to me when you need a friend or a strong shoulder. And by the way, I'm the last person who's going to judge you. Now quit stalling and tell me what happened."

"The first thing you should know is that I've been having an affair for the past year or so."

So that explained why I hadn't seen or heard from Brett in a while... I tried my best to not sound judgy. "Oh...wow. Okay."

He eyed me suspiciously, I'm sure looking for signs that he was being judged, before he continued. "Earlier tonight, Matt came home early from a night out with his friends and found the two of us in bed together. Oh my god! You've never seen anyone as pissed as Matt was. We got into a knock-down drag out argument. I mean, this makes that argument you and I had at the end of Senior year of college seem like a mild disagreement."

"This isn't me being judgemental. Just making a point. It's an upsetting thing to find your man in bed with another guy...unless that's something you and Matt are into, of course."

"We're not," he interjected and offered.

"Okay then. It's understandable that he'd be upset."

"That's not the reason, though. I mean, sure, he was upset that I was fucking around behind his back, but I think what got to him the most was who I was in bed with."

I had a feeling his answer to what I asked next would test my ability to not judge him, but I asked anyway. "Okay. Who was it?"

"So... Matt came home earlier tonight and found me balls deep inside his father's ass."

"Oh my god! Not the father-in-law!" I blurted out.

"Thanks a lot! I thought you weren't going to judge me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It's not a judgement. I'm just surprised, is all."

"Why? You were at the wedding. You met Vince."

Brett had a point. I'd met Vince Calieri alright. Big bruiser of a DILF in his late 50s with salt & pepper hair and a handsome face. He'd been in the Air Force but had the body of a big offensive lineman on a football team. I'd made a subtle run at Matt's divorced father at the reception, hoping to snag a warm body to have in bed with me that night, but he'd rebuffed my advances. I couldn't help but be a little jealous that Brett had been getting him for the past year. "Before you got married, you told me you were ready to settle down. A man who wants to settle down doesn't just decide to start boning his father-in-law."

"I know, I know. But I couldn't help it. Matt was out of town and I was over at Vince's place. We were having beers out in his jacuzzi. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew we were going at it up in his bed. It just kept going. There were a few times that I wanted to put a stop to it. I knew how hurt Matt would be if he found out. But after a couple months, I didn't want to stop it anymore. Being with Vince was too intoxicating. He made me feel ways that Matt didn't and I didn't want to give that up."

This was deep. Real deep. I wasn't sure how I was going to help my friend out of this jam, but I wanted to try. "Where does all of this leave you and Matt?"

"He threw me out. Says he doesn't want to see me again. And honestly, I believe him."

"And what about you and Vince?"

"We texted while I was on my way over here to your place. He says it's best if we stop seeing each other." Brett sat there on my sofa, looking like a lost soul. I really felt for the guy. "Oh man! I'm so fucked! I know I said this already, but I really screwed up."

"Listen, man. Let's not focus on that now. Let's just go get some sleep and look at the situation with fresh eyes in the light of day. You can bunk in my guest bedroom"

"You mind if I grab a shower first? I didn't get a chance to shower from earlier with Vince. Besides, I need to stand under the water and try to rinse some of my slimeball tendencies off of me."

I reached over and put my hands on his shoulder, supportively. "Brett, you're not a slimeball. You're just a hornball who always thinks with his dick."

In spite of himself, Brett chuckled at my joke. I showed him where a fresh towel was, told him soap was in the shower, and left him to handle his business.

While he was showering, I couldn't help but think of what it must've looked like...Vince Calieri on his back and my best friend plowing him like a field getting ready for crops. I kept picturing their arms and hands roaming all over each other and their tongues battling as they kissed. I should've been repulsed by the vision - for a lot of reasons. Instead, the opposite happened. I was turned on like I'd never been turned on before. My hand drifted down to my sweatpants and started pawing at my growing bulge.

The next thing I knew, I was standing in my bathroom, looking at Brett naked under the shower head. It had been years since I'd seen him naked, but suddenly, was as if no time had passed at all. He'd put on some more muscle and his ass looked like more of a bubble...obviously he was doing squats - but he looked exactly the same.

Suddenly, the sound of his voice snapped me out of my reverie. "Something wrong, Preston?" Brett was looking right at me.

"Uh...Sorry. I...uh...just wanted to make sure you were good for your shower."

"Yeah. I'm fine. I have a towel. The soap's right here. I'm good to go!"

"So you don't need anything, then?"

Brett eyed me up and down. I noticed his eyes settle for a beat or two longer on my bulging crotch before he returned his gaze to my eyes. "Maybe there's one thing I need."

"What's that?"

Wordlessly, he reached out and tugged me by the neck of my t-shirt - fully clothed - into the shower with him, crashing his lips into mine. It was pure heaven. It's what I'd been wanting for years and what I'd been missing. As my clothes began getting soaked and we began exploring each other with our hands, our kiss raged on. When Brett reached down for the hem of my t-shirt and started to tug on it, I parted our kiss and pulled it over my head, tossing the sopping-wet shirt on the floor of the bathroom. Soon, my equally soaked sweatpants joined them there.

Brett's hands found my ass while I stroked his hardening member. All the while, we kept kissing like two lost lovers who had just found their way back to each other. From my perspective that's what we were. For the second time in roughly five years, I'd realized I'd been lying to myself about my feelings for Brett being behind me. I was still head over heels in love with the guy. What we were doing right now proved it!

Five minutes later, the shower had been turned off and we were on my bed...me on my stomach and Brett on top of me, kissing and licking the back of my neck softly, two fingers deep in my hole, preparing me for what was to come. I was just thinking how nothing could ruin this moment, when something did. Brett put his left hand on the mattress by my head to reposition himself so he could fuck me and I happened to glance at it. That's when I saw it: the light from the lamp on my night stand reflected off of that shiny metal band and it brought everything to a grinding halt.

Reluctantly, I propped myself up and turned my head to look at him out of the corner of my eye. "We need to stop."

Brett stood up as I turned over. It was a sight to see him hard as a rock with a look of concern on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"You're married," I said matter-of-factly.

"Ohhh, right. I forgot about that," he said jokingly.

"Don't do that. You know what I mean. We're about to do just what Matt threw you out for."

"So? I'm already in trouble. Why not just go for broke? I can finally be with you the way you've wanted since college, with both my head and my heart in the game. You can't tell me you don't want it."

"You're right. I DO want it...more than you know, actually. But I don't want some man's husband."

He smirked at me. "Okay then. I'll get a divorce."

"Don't joke about that. You made vows. You can't just throw that away like a dirty tissue. You need to try to make things right with Matt."

"You've told me so many times how you feel about me and how you still feel about me. Now, just when we're about to fuck with the type of emotion I should've allowed myself to have back in college, you're talking about Matt. I can't believe you're doing this."

"Let me ask you this. Do you still love him?"

"Yeah. I guess," Brett reluctantly admitted.

"Then you owe it to all of us to go try to make amends. I'm not going to be what keeps you from fixing your marriage." He started to say something, but I held my hand up to stop him. "If you really try to make it work and it's truly over, I'll welcome you back in my arms AND my bed if that's where you want to be."

"So you're kicking me out too," he grinned at me. "Fine. I guess I'll just go find a park bench to sleep on somewhere."

"You can stay until morning. Then after we have breakfast, I'm sending you back home to try and make things right with Matt."

"I can stay until morning? Oh good!" he plopped down on the bed next to me. "I call big spoon!"

"When I said you could stay until morning, I meant in the guest room."

As he climbed out of bed, he gave me that crooked smile of his that always used to drive me wild. "You can't blame a guy for trying."

Six hours later, we'd had breakfast and I'd sent him on his way after another short pep talk. It wasn't what I wanted to do. I wanted Brett to fuck me last night, wake up and fuck me this morning, go back to the house he and Matt owned together and help him pack his stuff, and then help him find a good divorce lawyer. But I knew that's not the way I could let things play out. If Brett and I were meant to be, I had to let it happen the right way. And if he and Matt were meant to stay together, I couldn't stand in the way of that...no matter how much my heart wanted me to.

No one ever said doing the right thing was easy. I wasn't known for always making the best decisions, but I knew that's what I'd done...the right thing...

I was just in the middle of clicking and saving the story to my queue to post tomorrow morning when I heard his voice and looked up to see him peering around the corner from the hallway that led to the bedrooms. "Hey, Preston. You coming to bed? It's getting late."

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll be right there."

"Come on. The wedding's in a day and a half," he whined. I looked at the band on the ring finger of his left band, different than the one that had distracted me that night two years ago but the same as the one on the ring finger on my own left hand. "You're the one who insists on following along with the silly tradition that we can't see each other 24 hours before the ceremony."

"It's bad luck!" I interjected. "And after everything you and I have gone through, we need all the good luck we can get!"

"Whatever. I just want as much time with you as I can get before you make me go stay over with Hauser and his wife until I see you at the J.O.P.'s office on Friday afternoon."

"I'll be there in a minute. I'm just finishing up."

"Work?" he asked.

"No. I'm working on something else."

"Ah," he said, a knowing grin on his face. "One of your stories, then. Can I see?" He stepped toward the dining room table and I immediately pulled my laptop lid down.

"You know the rules, Brett," I lovingly chastised him. "You have your hobbies. I have mine...and never the twain shall meet."

"I love it when you talk all 18th Century at me!" he teased, before backing up to the hallway. "But I get it. We each need to have our own interests separate from each other. Just don't be too much longer, okay?"

"I won't." As Brett started to turn around to go back to our bed, I called out. "Hey..." He looked at me and I gestured toward me with my head. He walked up to me...my laptop lid still in the down position. When he was standing in front of me, I reached up to tug on the neck of his t-shirt and craned my neck upward to meet him in a soft and lingering kiss on his lips. When we parted, I said softly, "I love you."

He leaned down and kissed me again. "I love you too, Ray." And once again, that's how I knew it was serious.

I watched him walk back to the hallway and disappear, biting my lip. I leaned over to make sure he wasn't lurking, ready to sneak out and see my story over my shoulder. Once I was sure that he was definitely back in the bedroom, I reopened the laptop lid and - instead of clicking to queue what I'd just written, I typed:

I'd done the right thing sending Brett back home to his husband that night...and a little over a year later, the universe rewarded me for it by finally giving me the man of my dreams.

I queued the story, logged out of the site, powered-down my laptop, and headed back to the bed that used to be mine. The bed I'd been sharing with Brett Kemp for a almost a year.

When I sent him home that day a couple years ago, I didn't know how this story would end. It took a few days, but Brett and Matt decided to try and save their marriage. They even entered marriage counseling and it seemed as if things were on the road to normalcy. I won't lie. A part of me was disappointed. I'd hoped he'd show back up at my door after about a week. But even more importantly, I wanted my friend to be happy. If a life with Matt was what made that happen, I could deal.

A few months into their reconciliation, another cheating scandal ended the marriage for good. No...my horndog of a buddy, Brett, wasn't the one stepping out this time. This time, it was Matt who had strayed. And yet, the third party was exactly the same as the first time. It was Brett's turn to walk into his bedroom and find Matt in bed with his own father. Had it been three random strangers, I probably would've found the scenario incredibly hot. Okay...if you tell Brett I said this, I'll deny, deny, deny. But I DID find the idea of Matt and his father getting it on pretty boner-inducing.

What I didn't find boner-inducting was the impact it had on Brett. He was inconsolable. Just like I'd been many times before, I was there with a strong shoulder for him to lean on and eventually, he was able to recover, heal, and move on. I know what you're thinking...that I helped him move on directly into my bed. That's the last thing I wanted. I didn't want to be a rebound. No one ever stays with a rebound long-term. And if Brett needed to run through another roster full of ready and willing cock and ass in the wake of his split from Matt, he'd been right all those years ago. I didn't want to be on the roster. I wanted to be his MVP. I was in love and willing to wait and give him the space he needed to work out whatever divorced man blues he needed to get out of his system. It took some time, but we eventually found our way to each other and moved in with each other after a few months of being exclusive but living apart.

We'd had a lot of starts and stops over the years and by now, it had been over 10 years since we'd graduated college, I thought we'd never see each other again, and our friendship was supposedly irreparably damaged. But in a little less than two days, I was finally about to have my happy ending. We both were.