My Well Bred Friend

By Kyle Weaver

Published on Aug 21, 2011

Gay

Neal and I snuck off several more times that week and no one was the wiser, not even Aaron. I guess Aaron had bigger problems.

I finally saw Philo again on that Friday. Neal went to a movie with his family, so it was just me and Joe, sitting and waiting for something to come up.

"So it seems like you don't hate Neal quite as much as you used to, huh?" Joe asked.

I grunted. "I just found a way to funnel my hate in productive ways."

"Whatever you say bro," Joe said softly.

I looked Joe in the eye. "How did you used to feel about Neal? Back when you were fooling around?"

Joe smirked at me. "Hey, I never admitted to doing that."

"Fine," I said, laughing. "How would you have hypothetically felt, then? Did you care about him, at all? Like, more than a friend?"

"Do you?" Joe said.

My lips shifted, and my eyebrows met for a moment. "Of course not. I've a fighter, not a lover, right?"

"Well, I'm a lover, Viren. And If I fucked someone, I would probably fall for them."

"Even a guy?" I said softly.

Joe just looked at me. Then he looked down. "Yeah."

"But opportunities pass, don't they?" I asked. "When you don't tell the people you love--that you love them."

Joe trembled. His voice cracked as he spoke. "That they do, Viren. But I'm not like you, Viren. No one has ever loved me back."

"Not even Neal?" I offered.

"I've got go," Joe whispered.

"What? Where?" I asked, my voice rising.

"Maria's."

"You are ditching me? We haven't even opened the beer!" I said, flashing a half-smile.

Joe rubbed my shoulder and smiled, despite the rest of his face. "You joke Viren. But you don't know how lucky you are. You can have anything you want. You just have to figure out what that is. But have haste, hero—love won't wait forever."

"Who is Aaron going to clean up after now?" I asked softly, half-joking. Joe walked away.

I shook my head, and snapped open a beer. It tasted like decaying carbonated cheese blended with liquid meat and donkey sweat. I drank it all.

The doorbell rang and I answered it, barely understanding what I saw.

"Philo?" I said softly.

He was shivering as he lumbered inside; his teeth chattering; his face covered with water.

"Philo!" I said sharper. I guided him to the couch and threw a blanket over him.

His smile was sloppy as his eyes glazed over.

"You are drunk!" I said quietly. "But you never drink."

"Hey Viren," he said, his mouth falling open. "I'm--over it."

I smiled at him and made him something safe to drink.

"Tea?" he said. "I didn't know I was that out of it," he said, laughing. "Is this really tea?"

"Yes, and if you want crumpets or bacon or something, just ask," I said, rubbing his hair.

"Aaron kissed me," he said softly.

I froze. I shook a little as I sat across from him, focusing on my breathing.

Philo started talking again. "He wanted to go farther, but I couldn't...I told him, I'm still in love with Viren, Aaron. I'm so embarrassed. I probably made out with the person that would hurt you the most. I guess that makes me a jerk. I mean, who would do something like that? I feel like shit."

"Everyone does things they regret sometimes," I said softly.

"I love you, Viren. I am sorry. I feel like such an idiot. How could I do something like that to you? All I've ever wanted is to make you happy. I'm tired of fighting. If you want me to be your faggot—then I'm your faggot. I'll get over that whole respect thing. It's just social pressures distracting me from my goal of pleasing you."

"Even if I don't love you?" I said quietly.

Philo started crying. He clung to his blanket, his fist shaking, scattering tea onto his hand. He put the mug down gingerly on the coffee table. "Yes," he said softly. "I'd still rather be with you. It's hell without you in my life. I can live off the hope that someday you could love me. I hate waking up and realizing your arms aren't around me. I feel like every smile is a lie. When you are gone, the world is black and white. I see things with dull clarity. Empty logic. But then, when I'm with you...I see in color."

"I'm just a man trapped behind a curtain," I whispered, running my hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't even know if I'm a whole person."

Philo grinned and his eyes rolled slightly. "A continent is just a shard of the earth trapped by an ocean." He was staring at the cracks on the ceiling now. "Freedom is what seperates us, and desire is what binds us."

"And what do you value more?" I said softly.

"You," he whispered. He looked at the ground. "I'm your faggot now."

I rubbed his hair. "No you are not. I can't take advantage of you drunk like this. And I can't let you talk like that either. You need to be the one who keeps me from being a jackass. That's your job. Besides—I sort of have a commitment...I've been seeing someone since you told me to never see you anymore."

"Uggg, not Gina," Philo whimpered.

"Worse," I whispered.

"How could it be worse?" Philo asked.

"Neal?" I said, almost pleading.

"Neal!?" Philo said, sitting up stiffly. "How could it be Neal? Don't you know how I much I hate him? He harassed me! He harassed you! Why, Viren?"

"I just felt like I didn't deserve you," I said softly. "You are like an angel, and I'm just—me. I felt like Neal was bad enough for me to feel okay treating like I treat my bitches."

"Bullshit!" Philo yelled. He picked up his mug of tea and slammed it against the wall, where it shattered, polluted strands weaving down the wall.

"What the hell, Philo! My grandmother gave me that mug!"

"Who gives a fuck?" Philo said. "Yeah, that's right; I don't care about your family heirloom mug! Am I bad enough for you now? God, that is stupidest reason I've ever heard of! How could you use that to justify—replacing me with Neal! How could you say that to me? I'm not bad enough for you? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"

"You said it was over!" I yelled. "You said you were over it!"

"I feel so vulnerable around you," Philo whispered. "Like I'm made of glass. And all you ever do is build me up so you can shatter me again."

"Maybe you should go," I said softly. "There is a black and white, stained glass world out there waiting for you to decide how much of a vandal I am."

"I don't know what that means, but fine," Philo said, struggling to get up. I pinned him back down with ease.

He just looked at me. "You bastard. Why are you such a sexy, horrible bastard? Just go away."

He slept in my arms that night but we didn't do anything beyond that. He cooked breakfast the next day like everything was normal, and after a while, I drove him home.

I was pretty riled up so I called Neal. We kissed immediately when he arrived; I felt him sinking to his knees, ready to be my cocksucker, but I held him to my face, lingering against his lips. I pulled him onto the couch, and hugged him from behind, my arms digging into his muscles and squeezing tight.

"Why is there a blanket here?" Neal asked.

"You know," I whispered. "Just in case we need to cover ourselves up."

Neal chuckled. "It looks to me like you need to `cover up' the leak in your ceiling? What is that brown stuff running down the walls?"

"It looks like tea," I whispered.

"Well, I'm thirsty," Neal said. "But the only tea-bag I want is your balls in my mouth."

I slowly took off our shirts, and pulled down his pants far enough to expose his ass. He pushed back into me. "Why's your cock still hidden, big guy?" he said, smirking.

I rubbed his back and nibbled his ear.

"Shit, Viren. I'm already begging for your cock. What more could you want?" He reached behind him and pulled down my pants a little. My cock weaved through the slit in my boxers and flipped out, hitting his ass. He put it between his ass cheeks and pushed it against his hole.

"Please fuck me," He whispered.

He pulled his ass cheeks apart and pushed back, swallowing my cock into his hole. "So you are going to let me do all the work, huh?" He slowly fucked himself on my cock, humping and bucking to impale himself deeper.

I breathed deep into his ear, hugging him tight as he moved back and forth.

"I'm your bitch, Viren, and if you won't fuck me with that big cock then I'll take that monster and fuck myself. Yeah, just lie there while I serve you. You want me to ride it?"

I didn't say anything as he repositioned himself on top of me. He pointed my cock at his hole again and started to bounce up and down, forcing my cock deep inside him.

He seemed frustrated at the softness in my eyes; at the affectionate stroke of my hand down his chest, across his nipple, and into his abs. His face wrinkled and hardened, and he moved faster and slammed deep.

"I'm your fag bitch and I'll do anything for you," He breathed.

I swiveled to the side so that I was sitting on the couch. He wrapped his legs around me, his ass still skewered by my rod. I leaned in and breathed into his ear, onto his neck, onto his lips. I looked in his eyes. They were grayer than I remembered; there were little shards of color everywhere, and when I looked inside, they grew wider, and wetter, the hardness behind them quivering.

"What are you doing?" Neal asked softly. I massaged his back, wearing away the hardness. I leaned in and kissed his chest. I ran my tongue over his nipple and let my mouth flow, washing it, cleaning it, getting it raw and vulnerable and real.

"Oh, god, Viren, please. That tickles. Oh shit. I'm at your mercy man, stop it." He started giggling and he looked at me, his eyes thawed now; warmth flowed from them, across his red face, and through his rosy smile.

"You're a good guy Neal. Just a little fucked up."

He groaned. "Fuck me up deep Viren. God yeah. Fuck me up."

I smiled and hugged Neal close, rolling him off the couch and onto the floor until he was under me. My cock had slipped out, so I put it against his hole again. Neal whimpered.

"You've never made me wait this long before. Fuck me, man. Please."

I grazed his chest and he started to laugh again. Then I pinned his hands behind his head.

I smiled and pushed inside.

I took him slowly, savoring his moans, holding his hands above his head with one hand, and petting his body with the other. I leaned in and kissed him softly.

"You would do anything for me?" I said between, slow, thick lunges.

"Fuck yeah," Neal whimpered, short of breathe.

"Tell me how you feel," I whispered.

"It feels amazing," Neal said, trembling. "I didn't know you had this side to you. I haven't felt this way—I haven't cared about someone this way since—oh fuck!"

His eyes widened in fear; he shook his head; I felt shivers run down his body; his mouth opened and quivered; his balls tightened; his dick bulged red; his face grew pale; the hardness returned to his eyes.

I saw the cum shoot out of his body, his ass, tightening, milking the cum out of me. It stimulated me over the edge, and I felt my orgasm building. I knew it turned me on seeing other guys come. Obviously I bask in the power, and I know that makes me a bastard—but maybe there is something more to it too. There is something intimate about mutual lust, complimentary need, and the reciprocal touch we both felt. Something beyond sex. I wonder if there is a word for that.

Neal started crying when I pulled out.

"Shit dude," I whispered. "That is easily the least rough I have ever been. How is this the time that brings you to tears?"

"What the fuck, Viren? What is your problem?" Neal screamed.

I just looked at him, startled.

"I gave you anything—anything you wanted! My only condition was that you treat me like the fuckup I am. Why would you go and do something like that, huh?"

"What?" I said. "Fuck you?"

"No, not fuck. You made love to me," Neal said softly. "You are straight! You aren't allowed to do that."

"I'm not allowed to care about you?" I asked.

"You aren't allowed to make me feel like this! What is wrong with you? Do you want everyone to be your little Philo, prancing around all doe-eyed? For someone that can't love them back? Fuck that! I'm done. We are over." Neal said, pulling on his clothes.

"Just like that, huh? You aren't even going to give me a chance?" I whispered.

Neal wouldn't even look at me.

"You are a coward," I said. He started to walk away and I just kept talking. "You are a coward and you are afraid of love."

Neal turned and looked at me, shivering. "Well, I thought that was the one thing we had in common. But now I just think you are a spoiled, bored, shallow, thoughtless psychopath, who just likes to see how mentally uncomfortable other people will become in an effort to please him."

"It wasn't like that Neal! I just wanted to care about someone for a change."

"Well you know what, Viren?" Neal growled. "I always liked you just the way you were."

"That's the thing isn't it, though," I said softly. "People grow up. I need someone that can help me do that."

Neal rolled his eyes and shook his head, and then he stormed away.

I didn't want to see anyone for a while. I smirked at the realization. I had talked to my three best friends in the span of a weekend and I left them all in tears. Is that what I get for trying to be a good person? I shook my head at the thought; of course it was more complicated than that. Apparently, you can't make up for years of being awful with one week of being mediocre.

And all of those tears brought me one step closer to realizing something.

I loved them all. I loved Joe. I loved Neal.

And I loved Philo.

And I had never said it. Not one stinking time.

I guess I felt left out. There was something cool running down my cheek. I tried to laugh as I pushed it away. But I couldn't. It came out as the shuddering cough that accompanies the lump in your throat; the choking back of reality for far too long.

And I smirked, feeling the ice in my eyes shatter and melt, until they were whitehot.

I let myself cry. ---

Email the author at krazytop@gmail.com.

Next: Chapter 10


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