Me and My Boys

**Standard disclaimer applies. Only read if you're allowed to in your area, are over 18 and aren't offended by two guys getting it on. Enjoy!

A million and one things can happen in a year. For my boys and I, sitting there at Anaria's a year after Tanner and Frank's wedding was a reminder of how much things could change.

I was still teaching at NYU, and my tenacious work with their journalism department was paying off: I'd found out a month earlier that I was on the tenure track and that in the next three years, I'd be a full blown professor. There was a beautiful man waiting for me at home, knowing better than to protest Sunday morning brunch, and his name wasn't Will. In fact, the past year had been a romantic race between Jesse and Cooper, both of whom I'd taken to Tanner's wedding a year ago, both of whom I'd told I wanted to date them and for a while, both of whom I'd continued to talk to and sleep with... until I made the decision I was now living with in a brand new Upper East Side apartment..

Against all odds, Charles was still dating Justin. As far as we could tell, the now sophomore was ok with the extra-monogamous life, even if Charles was starting to slow it down. The two of them were pees in a pod, a fact that became abundantly clear when Justin got Charles a three way with a former Disney star for his 26th birthday. I wouldn't have bet on them lasting a month, let alone a year, but it goes to show how unpredictable life with Chuck can be.

In some random twist of fate, Beau was in the most stable relationship of us all. Phillip had moved into the studio with Beau, and while their tastes and sensibilities clashed, being together was more fun than they could let go of. Phillip surprised Beau after three months of shacking up with a newspaper with four listings circled. Phillip told Beau to get dressed because they were going out on the town to look at bigger apartments together. This was the longest relationship Beau had ever been in, ever, and it was fun for all of us to watch.

And then there was Tanner. A year ago, to the weekend, we'd all gathered around to hear him and Frank make the ultimate commitment to each other. Their wedding was beautiful. Only one of us passed out at the reception and their honeymoon, from what we heard, was a week to behold. And then reality set back in. A week after returning to Manhattan, Frank got a call from his boss saying that he'd been given a promotion. It wasn't the partnership he'd been hoping for, but instead, he was being tapped to lead the firm's expansion in Texas. Dallas, specifically. Three months and four days into their marriage, Frank and Tanner said goodbye to their Manhattan apartment and the three of us and moved halfway across the country. Two weeks later, Tanner was back in the city, knocking on my door and saying he had to move back. He and Frank were getting a divorce.

And so there we were, four men, a year older and a year wiser, having cocktails over brunch.

"I have the cutest TA, you would die over," I said once our mimosas had been refilled. "You have to let me set you up with him at mine and Cooper's house warming."

"I am not being set up," Tanner protested.

"Sweetie," I replied. "It's been six months since you've seen a penis that wasn't attached to your body. We're worried for you."

"I'm not," Charles chimed in rudely. "If the prude wants to stay celibate while mourning the loss of the marriage I warned him against, I say let him do it."

"Harsh," Beau said, sipping an ice cold Bud Light with a lime squeezed in. "Retract the claws, puss in boots."

"They're Marc Jacobs," Charles said.

"I'm not mourning," Tanner said. "I'm completely over the divorce. The last of the proceedings are coming up and he'll be out of my hair forever."

"Then what's the problem with getting back on the market?" I asked. "Let me set you up with this guy. He lives in the Meatpacking District and he modeled his way through college."

"I'm not ready to be the friend that you feel sorry for," Tanner said frankly.

"What?" I asked.

"This conversation bores me," Charles interjected. "Waiter, can I get something stronger? Like a gun, please."

"At least he's saying please now," Tanner replied.

"How is setting you up any sort of manifestation of us feeling sorry for you?" I asked.

"It's how it starts. You have that one friend you feel sorry for, so you set him up. You watch him flounder his way around the dating pool, feeling sorry for him until eventually you stop setting him up and inviting him places because you realize it's his own fault that he's alone... but you've tried because you've set him up. No thanks," Tanner said.

"That's ridiculous," Beau said, chiming in. "Don't forget that for three years, you were the one in a relationship."

"And now, all three of you are relationships. It's no fun being the one man left out," Tanner said. After a pause he added, "Or the one man that has to be set up."

Later that afternoon, while sitting in front of my laptop, I couldn't help but think about what Tanner had said. Was it really that hard to be the one friend getting set up? Did the rest of us, without even realizing it, treat our single friend differently? Now that taken was the majority party in office, was single the green party on the ballot—the party for one that nobody wanted an invitation to?

Two hours and 200 words later, the door opened with a key and the love of my life came in to the living room.

"Hi sweetie," he said in a deep, sexy voice behind me.

"You smell like sweat," I said, flinching from the wet hug from behind.

"You love it when I fuck you right after the gym," he said slowly, kissing my ear. "My cool down."

"Your cool down," I said grinning. I swiveled my chair around, and kissed my boyfriend of a full year square in the face.

"I love you, Mike," he said grinning down at me. "Let's go cool down."

"I love you too, Cooper," I said. I let him lead me to the bedroom for his post workout fucking session that I loved so much.

**Halfway across town, Phillip and Beau were having an intimate conversation of their own.

"So my parents are coming into town this weekend to see the show," Beau said to Phillip while the two of them were enjoying a lazy Saturday afternoon. It was at least two hours before Beau needed to head to 42nd and Broadway for his call as an understudy and swing for the new Spiderman musical. They had decided to spend most of the day cuddling and watching European soccer.

"Yeah, you mentioned that. If you need the space, I can crash at my brother's in Queens, I really don't mind."

"No, silly, don't be absurd," Beau replied. "I want you to meet them."

Phil sat up, took the remote and put the heavily accented announcer on mute. "You want me to meet your parents? As in I'm meeting your parents?"

"It's not a big deal, I swear. My parents are totally cool and they'll love you," Beau replied. "And it's a casual dinner, `this is my boyfriend,' et cetera, et cetera. It's nothing serious."

"Did you just say et cetera, et cetera?"

"I did."

Phillip starting laughing to himself. "How can I say to no to that? I guess I'm meeting your parents next weekend."

"You're meeting my parents next weekend." And with that, they forgot about the Premiere League and began playing a game of their own.

**Cooper and I lay in bed together, noticing that twilight was setting in, both of us too tired to stay awake but too ravenous to sleep.

"Is there anything to eat in this apartment?" Cooper asked me, putting his strong arm around me. His muscular tan frame was the largest I'd ever been with. He could envelope my entire 32 inch waist effortlessly.

"Didn't you get enough to eat just now?" I asked, getting comfortable in his big spoon.

"No," he said, turning me around to face him. "I'm still hungry for this." He kissed me on the forehead. "And I'm still hungry for this." He moved down and kissed me hard on the lips. I moaned into his mouth. I felt all the blood rush to my crotch, and I'm sure he felt my cock swell up because he wrapped his warm hand around it and said "I'm still very hungry for this."

Seconds later, he was under the sheet between my legs and pumping his hot mouth up and down my rock hard shaft. It was as if I hadn't just cum three times all over the both of us, because he was sucking my dick as if there was nothing else to do. My body wiggled and writhed in sheer pleasure. I tried thinking about other things, anything, to keep from spraying load number three down his throat too quickly.

Feeling overwhelmed with how hot this blow job was, I grabbed Cooper's blonde hair and slowed down his thrusting up and down. He seemed to get the point, keeping his mouth on my dick but slowing his tongue down just enough to give me a chance to relax. After a few minutes, I noticed that he was humming something, causing vibrations to reverberate up my spine. I couldn't tell what he was humming at first, but just as the sensation was getting too much, I realized it was "I'm hungry for this."

I let out a spent "Oh, God" and felt rope after rope of hot semen spray down my boyfriend's throat. "Oh my fucking God," I said, still holding onto his hair as he inched his way back up my body to meet me for a half passed out kiss. I could barely move, but it felt like every nerve ending on my body was on fire—this was just a taste of the way Cooper could make me feel.

"Are you," I panted, "satisfied?"

He kissed me before responding. "I could go for fourths later," he said in a sexy drawl. His southern accent came out in full force when he wasn't careful, and right then with just the two of us in our bed, there wasn't a care in the world.

And truly, there wasn't. We stayed in bed, taking turns on each other's bodies, until late the next morning.

**The next morning, I went to Charles' Upper East Side penthouse for breakfast and to discuss how we were going to high jack Tanner's love life.

"Hey Justin," I said, addressing my student, who answered the door in a Dartmouth t-shirt and compression shorts. "Going for a run?"

"Rowing practice," he replied. "I'm actually on my way out."

"Oh, I didn't realize you'd made the team. Congratulations," I replied.

"Does that mean I get to skip next week's quiz?" he asked.

"Don't bet on it."

"Are you too done with this office hours conference?" Charles said coming to the door in a dark robe. "I just made omelets and I'll eat yours, Mikey, if you don't hurry up."

Justin said goodbye, headed to rowing and I followed Charles to the kitchen bar, where, true to form, two perfectly flipped egg white omelets sat on Pottery Barn plates.

"You didn't have to cook anything," I told him.

"Of course I did. Why did I remodel this place to include a working kitchen if I wasn't going to use it?" he asked.

"Well, I brought Champagne," I said holding up the bottle and taking off my coat.

"And I have fresh squeezed orange juice," he said, walking to the cabinet and getting two glasses.

"You squeeze orange juice now?" I asked.

"I certainly don't by it. You have no idea what they put in those bottles to preserve those juices any more, its disgusting."

"When did you become Martha Stewart Living? Did I miss something?"

After a long pause, Charles sat down and looked at me. "I didn't want to say anything yesterday at brunch, but I found a grey hair a couple of days ago. I'm not getting any younger."

Charles was indeed the oldest of the group. He was two years older than Tanner and I and almost 4 years older than Beau. I'd known him in college and he was sort of a mentor to me. He'd made a million bucks trading commodities from his dorm room his second and then spent the next six years living it up until NYU finally made him graduate.

"You're twenty-eight," I said. This is no time to go panicking.

"In gay years, I may as well be getting my AARP membership," he replied. "And Justin would flip if he knew I found a grey hair. I mean, it's one thing to date the hot older guy, it's another thing to date the hot older grandpa."

"Anderson Cooper has grey hair and everyone still loves him," I responded.

"You aren't helping. I'm going to eat and drink organic in a hopeless attempt to turn back the clock. If it can work for Cher," he began.

"Hold on there, gypsy. We're not starting the Cher crash diet until we're at least 60," I said. "Now get me some salt for this omelet before I die of hunger."

Charles and I ate, shooting the shit for a few before getting down to real business.

"We have to set Tanner up. I mean, he's getting miserable."

"I agree with you about him getting miserable, but I don't see why we have to set him up. If he wanted to get laid, he'd go out and get laid."

"That's just the thing," I replied. "Tanner doesn't like going out and getting laid. He wants someone he can care about."

"Well he left that person back in Tulsa," Charles said.

"Dallas," I corrected.

"Whatever. My point is, the guy doesn't want to be helped. He said so himself. I'm over his whining, but I can't lead a horse to water when he lives in the fucking Atlantic Ocean. This is New York City for Christ's sake."

"I'm just saying, we give him a little nudge, that's all."

"What do you want me to do?" Charles asked pouring both of us another round of mimosas.

"Don't bring Justin to the house warming on Thursday," I said. "Go to dinner with Tanner, loosen him up a bit..."

"I'm not fucking Tanner to save his life of misery," Charles replied.

"That is not where I was going with that. He told me he probably wouldn't come because all the people I know are coupled up now. If you tell him Justin isn't going and you'll be his date, he'll come. Get him drunk at dinner and then BAM," I said.

"I'm still not fucking Tanner."

"You don't fuck him. Bam! We ambush him with a single friend of ours at the house warming. He'll be tipsy and alone. It's perfect."

"He really said he wouldn't go because we're all coupled up?" Charles asked. I nodded. "That's pathetic. I will go along with this ill advised plan only because my boyfriend will be rowing somewhere or another and can't make it anyway. And if I'm going to sit through dinner with Tanner, you'd better believe cocktails are involved."

"I knew I could count on you."

"Any clue who you'll set him up with?" he asked me.

"I have the TA I mentioned, he's really cute."

"He needs something a little more mature than a grad student who reads papers for a living," he replied.

"You're the grandpa. Any friends at the nursing home?" I asked laughing before I could finish.

"Funny," he replied. "Leave it to me. I'll find someone suitable. Since I'm no longer looking for myself, I'll just shop around for someone else."

**The next week flew by in a rush of anticipation. The house warming plans were underway and Charles was helping me put everything together, as usual. On Tuesday during our 5K run at the Gold's Gym in Murray Hill, he told me that he had the perfect date planned for Tanner.

"He's an artist out of Chelsea. He just got his work picked up by Lily Cain of the Lily Cain Gallery. He's about to blow up something awful," Charles said just as we rounded the second mile on our treadmills.

"How did you meet this guy?" I panted.

"We slept together four years ago before he went on a soul cleanse to Egypt."

"You aren't setting him up with someone you've already slept with," I said.

"That's impossible," Charles said. "We'd have to go to Brooklyn for that."

On Wednesday, Charles called me and said he'd continued the search and found someone truly inspiring.

"He's a chef from France. He got to the semi-finals during casting for Top Chef New York, he's amazing. And gorgeous. And I haven't slept with him, although I totally would, he's beautiful."

"I mean, I hate to say this out loud, but Tanner really is a white bread kind of a guy. I'm not sure he'd want to bag a baguette," I said over the phone.

"You're making this extremely difficult for me."

Finally, on Thursday, 24-hours before the house warming party, Charles stopped by to drop off some outfits for me and declare that if I didn't like this find, he was giving up.

"He's a writer for One Life to Live," Charles said as I was hanging up a Fendi bomber jacket in my closet. "He's brilliant, worked on SNL for a while, very funny. Tanner needs someone to help him remove the stick from his ass."

"Or put it back in there," I smiled.

"Anyway, this guy is the real deal. I've already talked to him, he's meeting us at your place tomorrow at 10."

We continued talking for another half hour before Charles said he had to pick up Justin from rowing practice downtown and take him to a dinner with a client.

**A little further downtown, Beau and Phillip were getting dressed for dinner with Beau's parents. Because of the rotation schedule, Beau wasn't dancing in tonight's show, but was called for the rest of the weekend.

"You look amazing," Beau told Phillip as they got out of the cab in front of Pre, an ultra-modern steakhouse in the Village. Beau straightened Phillip's tie, leaned in close to kiss him and said "Courage."

"You owe me so much sex for this," Phillip quipped as the host opened the door. They found their reservation for four where James and Donna McIntyre were already seated. Beau's parents stood, had hugs and handshakes all around and they all sat down.

"I ordered a Bourdeaux wine," James said, pouring the boys' glasses. "Supposedly from a great year, I wouldn't know."

"So this is the famous Phillip," Donna said beaming. If anyone still believed in nurture over nature, Beau's mom was their exhibit A. She loved having a gay son and doted upon Beau in an unnatural way.

"I wouldn't say famous, would you babe?" Phillip said taking a sip of the wine. "Oh, this is good."

"Mom," Beau said, his face getting warm.

"No, no, sweetie," Donna continued. "Phillip, Beau has told us all about you."

"Mom, come on," Beau said. "Let's just order."

"No, no," Phillip interjected. "I want to hear what you've been telling them about me."

"Nothing, I haven't told them anything."

"Don't be silly, son," Mr. McIntyre chimed in. "We hear that you're a firefighter and you live in Queens."

"Well my brother lives in Queens," Phillip replied. He began to say something when Beau interrupted.

"You should see his apartment mom," Beau said. "You'd love how its decorated. Very very chic."

Phillip looked around, confused why they were discussing his fictitious apartment. Instead of digging himself into any kind of hole, he simply smiled, took a piece of bread out of the center basket and listened to Beau's parents regale him with stories about their son.

Two hours later, when they were finally back in their cozy loft, Phillip asked Beau the question that had been burning all through dinner.

"I didn't tell them we lived together, big deal," Beau replied.

"You are a grown man, Beau. Why wouldn't you tell your parents you're living with me? You told them everything else about us."

"It's complicated," Beau said. He was down to his slacks and undershirt at this point.

"So simplify it," Phillip said. "I mean, I just think its really odd, that's all."

"My parents don't put a lot of stock into the guys I date," Beau said. "They're used to me moving from one to another, so if they knew we were living together, they'd know that we are, you no, really serious."

"So I can meet your parents, that's not that weird. But living together signifies that we're getting married or something?"

"It would just mean a lot to them, so I embellished. It doesn't change how much I love you," Beau said.

"How much you what?" Phillip said, turning to look at Beau. He was midway through with unbuttoning his shirt.

"You heard me," Beau answered. "I said that I love you."

Phillip smiled. Took a step to Beau, kissed him as deeply and as passionately as he could and replied with a single tear streaming down his face, "I love you too."

**The next morning before class, as all of my prepped out students were filing into the discussion hall, Justin came in with his usual crowd and whispered "I need to caucus with you after class." I had absolutely no idea what this was about, so imagine my surprise when, an hour and a half later, Justin and I were sitting in my office and he blurted out "I think Charles is cheating on me."

"Whoa, wait, a second killer," I said, forgetting that a year ago, I'd set a boundary with Justin never to talk about Charles during my office hours. I had to maintain some semblance of professionalism as his professor and academic advisor. "Why do you think he's cheating on you?"

"I mean, to name a couple of reasons? He's on the phone all the time with people he won't tell about. He just says he's `dealing with stuff.' And he went to dinner last night with someone and came home and went straight to bed. And then this morning he told me at breakfast that I couldn't come to the house warming. Not that I'd be able to with the Harvard meet coming up, but come on. I'm banned from the house warming?"

"You aren't banned," I began. "Ok, there is a reasonable explanation for all of this, there really is." I paused. "Charles is helping me set up Tanner. He must be talking to these random guys to, you know, vet them, or whatever. And he told me he'd found someone, I'm sure he just took him to dinner last night. There. Explanation."

"Blind date for Tanner?" Justin asked. "That's it? That's all?"

"Yeah, man. I mean, that's all that I can think of. And as for you being banned from the house warming, you aren't banned. It's part of the set up. Charles is going to pretend to take Tanner and then dump him on the other guy."

Justin was nodding. He was a great student, but when it came to matters outside of the books, he wasn't the brightest cookie.

"So I have nothing to worry about?" he asked me, standing and buttoning up his coat.

"Nothing at all. And since when did it bother you?" I asked as he was leaving.

"We're headed there, Mike," Justin said, taking liberty with not calling me Professor. "We may not be there yet and we may be moving at a snail's pace, but I wouldn't still be in this if I didn't think that one day, Charles and I would be able to be faithful towards each other. I thought we were almost there, but if he can have set backs this easily then maybe I was wrong. And if it continues to bother me, well maybe I'm not as ok with it as I thought."

As Justin left, I couldn't tell if that was the most romantic thing I'd ever heard or the most bizarre.

**The next day was my house warming party, Cooper and I's first event in our Upper East Side apartment. Charles had gotten caterers to prepare a great hors devours spread and the best mixoligist this side of the canal to bartend. In a few hours, the apartment would be filled with my friends and colleagues, and Cooper's two buddies who'd flown in for the weekend from Baton Rouge.

While we were putting last minute touches on the apartment, Charles was saying goodbye to Justin for the weekend.

"You're going to kill those Harvard brats," Charles said as Justin loaded up his overnight bag.

"You sure you don't want to come? If you leave here early enough you can make the semi-final regatta race."

"We'll see how hammered I get tonight," Charles said. "And who knows who'll be there. The last time Cooper's friends were in town, I ended up tasting creole for a week, if you know what I mean."

Justin shrugged. He continued packing.

"Is something wrong?" Charles asked. He stood up and wrapped his arms around Justin who was folding a pair of boxer briefs and stuffing them into the bag.

"Let me go," Justin said shaking Charles off and trying to regain his mobility. "I have to finish packing and head out. The guys are waiting for me."

"Ok," Charles said. "Something died in your Cheerios."

"Nothing died in my Cheerios," Justin said. "You wanna know what's wrong?"

"No actually, I have a shower to take," Charles said bitingly.

"Fine," Justin said, zipping up his overnight bag. "I'll see you tomorrow." Justin was heading for the front door when Charles called "You're forgetting your oar."

Justin returned to the bedroom and Charles, sitting in his own boxer briefs holding an oar said "Listen, something is bothering you. I don't usually open myself up as a listening party, but if you'd like to tell me what it is, I'll hold off the snarkiness until the end."

"Ok. I thought you were sleeping with someone this week," Justin said, putting his bag down and sitting next to Charles.

"That's ridiculous," Charles replied.

"I know that now," Justin said. "I talked to Mike. And I know that there have been other guys, Charles, I get that. That's the you I fell in love with. But we always agreed to be open with each other and work towards a relationship that only included you and me. I thought I loved that arrangement as much as you did, but for some reason this week when I thought you were stepping out, it bothered me."

"But it never has before?" Charles said with just a hint of snarky. "Babe, I love you. You are the first guy I've ever said that to, honest. I don't need to see other guys, its never been about that. I just thought you being so young and wanting to explore so badly, we'd be better off keeping the door open."

"I'm tired of having an open door," Justin said. "I want to close the door and have you here in it."

"Does that mean no more threesomes for my birthday?" Charles smiled.

"Ok, birthdays might be a different story," Justin said, leaning in to kiss Charles.

"You're going to be late," Charles said with his lips still on Justin's. He reached over and put his hand on Justin's package.

"I'm driving," Justin said. He pushed Charles back and straddled him. "Those boys can wait." He leaned down, kissed Charles, and within minutes, was riding up and down his faithful boyfriend's rock hard oar.

**Three blocks south, Cooper and I were taking our first shots with our first guest at our first event in the home we had together. Cooper's friends from Baton had flown in that afternoon and they'd brought some dark aged whiskey with them. It would be rude of us, as hosts, not to get the festivities going.

Within an hour the apartment was in full swing. Within two hours, the party was a shit show.

"This is our place," I said, finding Cooper and hugging him.

"This is our place," he replied. Six shots, two long islands and a bourbon and coke into the party, the scene before us was almost more than I could handle. Cooper's friends were talking to a couple of girls in the corner. The bisexual one that Charles had slept with at the wedding a year ago was making a point to talk to as many women as possible. Speaking of Charles, he'd mostly kept to himself all night and spent a significant portion of the party on the phone. Phillip and Beau were still around but hankering to leave. They'd arrived late and were ready to nightcap back at their downtown studio. There were several couples talking closely or even kissing by this point and Cooper and I couldn't have been prouder if our names had Mary.

Chief among the kissing couples were Tanner and Austin, the One Life to Live writer. According to plan, Charles had gotten Tanner tanked on vodka/tonics at a small restaurant a couple of blocks from my apartment. The food was light, and so was Tanner's tolerance.

He was so buzzed by the time they arrived an hour late to the party that I had to pull Charles aside and ask him if he'd slipped anything into Tanner's drink.

"Just some ecstasy," Charles replied. "Kidding. Its all him."

Shortly thereafter, Charles introduced him innocently to Austin. The two talked for twenty minutes before making out at the bar of our dining room table. Twenty minutes after that, they took a joint bathroom break.

"Looks like operation Tanner Hook Up was a success," Phillip said to me as he and Beau hugged us goodbye. "I'll see you at brunch tomorrow morning."

Charles left right after they did, telling me "good luck" with Tanner. Just like most parties do, within fifteen minutes everything went from bustling to dwindling. Tanner and Austin were still in the restroom. While Cooper was saying goodbye to his friends, I knocked on the bathroom door and tried to extract the final guests of the night.

"Hey Tanner," I called from the other side of the door. "I called you a cab. Get dressed and I'll walk you downstairs."

There was a giggle, silence, a zipping sound and then the door opened. No flush. Tanner poked his drunken head out of the door and smiled "Ok, give us two seconds and we'll be heading down."

"Is McSoap still in there?" Cooper called from behind me. Tanner smiled and nodded his head.

"We're going back to his place," Tanner said. "You're place?" he asked looking behind him.

"My place," McSoap replied.

"Well you two be careful," I said as they opened the door all the way. Austin was putting his shirt back on and Tanner hadn't even bothered.

"Where's my coat?" he asked stumbling to the closet and pulling out his coat. I couldn't hold my own tipsy giggles in. Seeing Tanner this drunk was both a rarity and a treat. "You two are ideal," he said giving me a hug. I thanked him trying to transfer his own weight back to his body.

"Be safe," I said. "Are you sure you're good to do this? Do you want to crash here?"

"It's been seven months, Mikey," Tanner said. "I'm totally good to do this."

They left without looking back, getting into the cab I'd had to give an extra five bucks to in order for him to wait for them.

The cab took them to a small studio above a coffee shop on W80th, just across the park from my new place. Austin led Tanner up a flight of stairs and into a sparsely decorated but neat apartment.

"Sorry about the mess," Austin slurred, moving a stack of magazines from the couch. It was the only displacement in the entire room. "Have a seat."

Tanner sat down, not remembering exactly how this was supposed to go. They'd already gotten to second base and continued flirting and feeling the entire cab ride there. But something about being in someone's home, about to hook up with him, for the first time in over three years made him really nervous.

"You're really cute," he said, breaking the silence. Austin was hanging up their coats.

"Thanks, babe. You're adorable too," he replied. "I knew Charles had good taste, but I wasn't sure what to expect from a blind date."

"Blind date?" Tanner said.

"Yeah," Austin replied. "You didn't know?" he laughed. "You want something to drink?" He was pouring two glasses of water before waiting for a response.

"No, I had no idea. That damn Charles. I bet Mike was in on it too," Tanner slurred. He attempted to get off the couch, but realized doing so required too much coordination at that point. He settled back in instead.

"Does it matter?" Austin asked bringing two glasses of water back to the couch with him.

"Not tonight. I'll be that friend tomorrow," Tanner replied.

"That friend?" Austin asked.

"It doesn't matter," Tanner said, forgetting all inhibition and grabbing Austin's face. He laid a gin soaked kiss on his rebound lay. "Tonight it doesn't even matter."

From there, the slightly less drunk Austin took the lead. He fumbly undid his own shirt and then Tanner's, whose slim body was looking even slimmer since Frank had left.

"I love your chest," Tanner said feeling Austin's pecks while the writer was undoing his own jeans. Austin then moved on to Tanner's pants, leaving both of them in nothing but their underwear.

They began kissing again, feeling each other's bodies, sloppily rubbing their own hard bodies against each other. The stiffy that was rubbing against Tanner's own semi-hard cock was unmistakable.

Before long, Austin had slid his own boxers down to his ankles, unleashing a rock hard dick, ready to rub against Tanner's body. With little hesitation, he turned my friend around and began ravishing his ass, loosening him up. The months off had left Tanner hornier than he'd ever been and tighter than he'd ever intended. Austin noticed and dove in with the excitement of any man up for the challenge.

A few minutes later, he was ready to take the plunge. "Let me get a condom," he said, getting up and walking to the bedroom. He returned with a wrapper in his mouth, cock swinging. This was the first hard cock Tanner had seen since getting married and divorced. "Ready?"

"It looks like you are," Tanner slurred. Before he knew what was happening, Austin's rock hard cock was inside Tanner's loosened ass, still tight from a six month celibacy.

Tanner couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so good. Austin was gentle at first, letting his hard dick loosen Tanner up. The moans of encouragement prodded him on, and before long, he was holding firmly onto Tanner's hips and pounding away at his ass. The "oh gods" and "fuck me's" were loud enough to wake up any neighbor, and the two couldn't care any less than they did.

Before Tanner knew it, Austin's cock was out of his ass, he had been turned over onto his back and rope after rope of hot creamy cum was being dumped onto his chest. The feeling of Austin's finish on his chest drove Tanner crazy and within seconds, he was cumming all over his own torso. Tanner, letting his inner prude go for the night, was thrilled when Austin lay down on top of him, kissing him deeply and slowly. The two spent guys fell asleep, just like that, on Austin's couch covered in their own cum.

**The next morning at brunch, Tanner's one-nighter was the talk of the table at Anaria's.

"You little minx," Beau chided, taking a huge sip of his bloody mary. "I thought Charles was supposed to be the slutty one."

"On the contrary, bastards," Charles replied. "I've turned over a brand new leaf."

"Oh yeah?" Tanner asked, still visibly drunk from the night before. The bloody mary in front of him wasn't helping the sobering up process one bit.

"I told Justin yesterday that I would be faithful from here on out," Charles replied. "And for good measure, I'm surprising him with a trip to Florida this weekend."

"It's midterm season," I responded wondering to myself why I was more offended by the trip than the declaration of monogamy.

"It's always midterm season," Charles said.

"That's your concern? Midterms?" Tanner asked. "Not the fact that Manhattan's biggest slut just entered into an actual closed relationship."

"I don't think you can do it," Beau said simply.

"I second that you're honor," Tanner responded laughing.

"Ye of little faith," Charles said. "I figure if I walk like a duck long enough, I won't even want to have sex with anyone else."

"You keep walking like a duck honey. You go for it," I said raising my glass. "To being a duck."

"To being a duck," everyone chimed. Yes, a lot can happen in one year. And sitting there a year after the exact same spot we'd left off, me and my boys couldn't have been stronger.

**Thanks so much for returning to Me and My Boys! I write to serve you all. I appreciate ALL comments and criticism as I try to make this journey as strong as possible. Email jwolf24450@gmail.com with any comment and criticisms. Thanks so much!