Owen

By Roy Reinikainen

Published on May 30, 2008

Gay

Owen

Chapter 10

By Roy Reinikainen

Lucas held the door open as Owen entered the apartment. Owen turned to look over his shoulder and grinned. "I wasn't expecting to be invited back to your place," he said, stripping off his light denim jacket and draping it over the back of a living room chair, next to his bag. "I figured I'd be spendin' the night in my coooold bed . . . all alone." He chuckled, giving Lucas a playful hug. "Y'sure you don't mind me doing that?" He asked, giving Lucas a solemn look. "The hug, I mean? It's just the way I am . . . all touchy."

"No," Lucas laughed, dimming the room's lights and stepping into the kitchen to start some coffee brewing. Next to a big meal, coffee was high on Owen's list of favorite things. As he rummaged about in the kitchen, Owen leaned on the island counter top, watching Lucas work, his long fingers laced together.

"That lady at the restaurant is probably gonna tell all her friends about me," he said, breaking the silence.

Lucas turned from where the coffee maker had begun to spit and sputter. "Four cannolis, Owen! And that doesn't include the one you had before dinner!" Lucas loved Owen's unrepentant smile.

"Don't forget the dinner, and the bread and salad," Owen added, as he wandered to the sofa and sank into the cushions, stretching his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. He patted the cushion, inviting Lucas to join him. "I don't often eat like that."

Lucas plopped down onto the soft leather seat. "I should hope not! Did you notice people were watching you? Four cannolis!"

Owen laughed and gave Lucas a playful punch on the shoulder. "Yep, I counted 'em . . . four." He sobered. "That was my personal best. I've now eaten more of those cannoli things . . . in one sitting . . . than the entire town of Riverton has in everyone's combined lifetimes." He crossed his arms and nodded, trying not to laugh at Lucas' expression.

"I suppose that's something one should be proud of?"

"Yep." Owen sighed, turning sideways, throwing his legs over the sofa's arm, and resting his head in Lucas' lap. "I'm feeling good." He rolled his head from side to side and playfully frowned.

"You're all lumpy, Lucas." He squirmed some more, trying to find a comfortable position.

"You're getting me hard, squirming around like you are," Lucas interrupted, holding Owen's head still. The corners of Owen's eyes crinkled as he suppressed a smile.

"Nah, that can't be it," he snickered. "You're not big enough to cause me any discomfort. I prob'ly could be laying on it and never notice. Must be your cell phone I'm feelin'." He rocked his head from side to side, the smile growing. When he caught Lucas' eye, he winked.

"Oooooh, someone's in a rare mood tonight." It was times like this that made Lucas realize how much he missed Owen's presence. There was a playful boyishness about him that he loved. He corrected himself. He loved everything about Owen. 'If only . . . ," he thought."

"You're thinkin' about something serious," Owen said, his smile fading. "Is everything okay?" Owen's eyes became troubled. "Does it bother you, me lying on your lap like I am? I keep forgetting myself." He began to move, but was prevented by the firm pressure of Lucas' hand on his shoulder.

"Stay where you are. I . . . I was just thinking how much I miss you, when you're not here." He grinned. "I enjoy your playfulness. It's do different from anything I grew up with."

"Things weren't very playful where I grew up either," Owen murmured, settling his head back into Lucas' lap. "That's probably why I'm the way I am, always wanting to laugh and kid, and things. I've never been able to do that kinda thing before meeting you." He smiled. "Well . . . not much, at least," Owen amended himself, memories of his own playing across his closed eyelids. Before long, he grinned.

"No one ever let me rest my head in their lap either." He squirmed a bit. "Most guys would think I'm a little strange for laying here, like this . . ."

"I'm not like most guys, Owen. Besides, we've slept in the same bed . . . naked. We've beat off together . . ."

"That was nice too . . . each time we did it. I don't much like sleepin' alone, y'know? Sleepin' with you makes me sorta feel like I never left home."

"You and your brother slept in the nude?" Owen nodded. "Speaking of sleep . . . We both have a couple days of tests to look forward to before the break. D'you suppose we should use that bed of yours. You did invite me to spend the night, didn't you? I mean, your lumpy lap is nice n'all, but I think I'd rather use a real pillow, and snuggle. That way, you can keep me warm." He glanced toward the windows and the sound of the howling wind.

"Just the sound of all that wind makes me shiver."

"Want to shower first?" Lucas asked. Owen scrambled up and shook his head as he held out a hand for Lucas.

"Nope, not me. I wanna get nekkid and climb into bed. I intend to sleep till noon. My first class isn't until two in the afternoon. Once that test is over with, I only have one more and I'll be done with things till after the holiday."

He tugged Lucas toward the bedroom. "Now, strip off and let's get into bed, otherwise we'll freeze." Owen pushed the wall switch turning off the living room lights as they walked into the bedroom, and the dim yellow of the street lights.

It only took moments before they were both under the thick down blanket. "D'ya mind if I snuggle close?" Owen asked in the darkness. "You can pretend I'm one of your dates, or somethin'." He scooted close to Lucas, who was lying on his side, facing away from Owen, trying to keep from getting an erection.

"You are nothing like any date I've ever had, Owen," Lucas managed. "I don't want to pretend anyone's holding me, other than you." There was a silent pause, and then Owen snuggled closer, his soft penis pressed against Lucas' buttocks.

"Ohhhh, this is nice," he sighed, his breath warm on Lucas' neck, the rest of his body pressed against Lucas', from chest to his groin. "Just like m'brother, Jonah." He draped an arm over Lucas and tried to pull him closer. He squirmed slightly, and then added. "No . . . better'n Jonah, any day."

"G'night, my friend," he murmured. "Thank you . . . for everything."


Bailey hurried down the steps leading from Owen's apartment, looking over his shoulder. 'Damn that man,' he cursed as he slammed his car door, shutting out the wind and snow. He paused only long enough to turn up the heater before speeding away, not looking back.


Lucas sank back into the steaming bubbly water and sighed with pleasure. He was tired of winter, and it had hardly begun. 'I need to move to someplace warmer,' he thought, sliding deeper until the water touched his chin. He closed his eyes and extended his arms to his sides, resting them on the edge of the university swimming complex's therapy pool, thankful for the quiet in the largely abandoned facility. Many had probably left town for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend; others would not be willing to brave the approaching blizzard. Even here, he could hear the howling of the wind.

He dreaded having to brave the walk back to his apartment. His . . . quiet apartment. The place seemed so empty when Owen, and his high-spirited personality was missing. Whenever Owen was visiting, the place even seemed brighter. 'Perhaps, it's only my outlook which is brighter,' he thought, inhaling the steamy air. 'Whatever . . . I miss him. No matter how often I see him, it's not enough.'

"Hiya, Lucas." He opened his eyes in surprise and looked up and over his shoulder, his heart skipping at the sound.

His gaze traveled up Owen's muscular calves and thighs, pausing briefly at the mound of his cock, held in place by a pale yellow Speedo swimsuit which did little to hide the dark blond spread of hair on his groin. Lucas could feel his own penis respond to the sight, and to the faint trail of hair emerging from the swimsuit's waist, extending to Owen's navel.

"Um, hi," Lucas responded, flustered by Owen's infectious smile and twinkling eyes. "Hi!" He repeated. "I thought everyone had decided to stay at home . . . because of the blizzard."

Owen grinned, squatting next to Lucas. "I just got off work, and decided that since it's so cold outside, I'd start the holiday weekend with a warm soak before heading home. I can never get the water warm enough at my place." He shivered. "Seem's as if I can't get warm anyplace other'n here, and your apartment, of course." He sat on the edge of the pool, dangling his legs in the warm water and removing them an instant later.

"You're going to boil in that water! How long you been in there?" He leaned closer and studied Lucas, trying not to smile as he pretended to be serious. "Reminds me of the story of the cannibals putting their dinner in the big stew pot full of cool water. The poor guy never realized that the water was getting hot until it was too late." He looked to his left, then right. "I don't see anyone around who looks hungry." He smiled brightly, playfully ruffling Lucas' hair.

"C'mon, join me."

Lucas laughed as Owen gingerly slipped into the water, inhaling through an open mouth, his eyes wide.

"Holy . . ." he hissed. "I'm crazy for doin' this." He held a wet arm out in front of him. "Look," he said. "I'm already half cooked. I'm all red." He shook his head from side to side in amazement, but when he realized Lucas wasn't going to comment, he lowered the arm back into the water and scooted closer to Lucas' side. "The things I do for you," he muttered as he draped his left arm over Lucas' shoulders and gave him a hug, grinning when Lucas turned to him.

"Thanks again for inviting me over the other night . . ." He winked. "And, for allowin' me to snuggle. I truly do miss sleepin' with another person. My bed feels so cold. 'Course," he added. "The landlord is stingy with the heat. His wife's always complaining 'bout her aching joints and urging him to at least plug in one of those portable space heaters." Owen sighed. "Maybe I should get me one of those . . . or an electric blanket, or somethin'."

"My place is always available. You know that." Lucas felt his penis twitch. Do you have any plans for the weekend?" He asked, hoping he would be able to talk his friend into joining him and his parents for Thanksgiving dinner.

"Nah, not me. I'll probably just study. I may splurge and call . . . my folks, or something."

"You don't speak of your parents too often. Are they really that bad?"

Owen solemnly shrugged and abruptly swiped his hand through the water, his mood suddenly changing.

"M'mother is great, though she needs to do more thinkin' for herself. 'Course m'father . . ." He paused and glanced at Lucas, as if in apology. "Let's say, he likes gettin' his way." He made a face. "Seems like I'm always bein' troubled by someone who's intent on gettin' their own way." Lucas raised his eyebrows in query.

"Bailey," Owen explained. "He's hangin' around, always callin' and stuff." Owen shuddered. "Then the scene at the restaurant . . ." Owen shook his head in wonder. "Very strange man." He heaved a sigh. "So . . . no, I'm not gonna be doing anything for the holiday. What about you? You goin' to your folks'?"

They both turned as an especially strong gust of wind hammered the building.

"So, Bailey's been doing more than showing up at the restaurant?" Lucas asked. Owen nodded.

"Yeah, some. I've told him a couple times I don't want to be hangin' around with him, but he doesn't listen. He only hears what he wants to hear." Owen shook his head in wonder. "The man's livin' in an alternate reality, or somethin'." He turned to Lucas. "How'd you guys meet, anyhow?"

"We grew up together," Lucas explained. "His folks know mine. We went to school together. That's all. He's always been something of a prima donna."

"The guy gives me the willies, actin' like he does. It's like he's spyin' on me, or somethin' . . . following my every move." Owen stared into the distance, lost in thought.

"The offer of my place is still open, Owen. You know that."

The memory of Lucas telling Bailey . . . his gay friend, to get lost and to never come back, flashed through Owen's mind. If he'd never heard that conversation, he might be tempted to take Lucas up on his offer, but as it was, he . . . couldn't. Lucas was a good friend, and he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that friendship, even unintentionally. He knew if they were living together, he'd do something he shouldn't, and then Lucas would most likely tell him to get lost, just like he'd done to Bailey. He was surprised Lucas hadn't already told him to stop being so physical.

It was almost more than he could handle, sleeping with Lucas, feeling his naked body next to his. He told himself that the few times they'd masturbated together would have to be enough of a sexual relationship for him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand why Lucas, a straight man, would even consider masturbating with another guy, considering how he felt about Bailey. He had tried to figure the motivations out but had given up.

"Thanks, my friend, but, I have to be able to stand on my own. If I'm stayin' with you, I'd feel like I'm not contributing."

'And, once I'd hug you I might never let you go,' he added, to himself. 'I'm missin' being held more than I thought possible.' He realized, it wasn't sex he needed, as much as the warmth and comfort of another man in his arms. Being deprived of that might not mean so much to other guys, but it did to him. Sam once joked that he never seemed to get enough hugging. Sam was correct.

"It's probably 'cause my folks are pretty standoffish," he'd responded to Sam's comment. Sam had chuckled, not realizing how difficult it was at home. 'If only, Lucas . . ."

"I'm not offering you a place to stay for free, if that's what you're afraid of. You'd pay your own way. Well . . ." He amended, thinking of Owen's prodigious appetite. "You'd have to pay for at least three-quarters of the food bills." He grinned at Owen's expression. "It'd make things easier for you, not having a monthly rent check to write. Remember, my Dad's given me the place rent-free, you'd have the money you currently spend on rent to do other things with."

'Like get some warm clothes,' he thought to himself. He'd seen Owen crossing campus, his shoulders hunched against the cold, wearing a denim jacket never meant for weather as cold as they'd been having. When Owen didn't respond, Lucas continued, a germ of an idea growing. "Since knowing you, I've become a changed man," he said, proudly.

Owen turned to him and smiled. "Y'still look like the same one to me." He lowered his voice. "Do you mean you've stopped fantasizing about barnyard animals?" He ducked a splash.

"No. I thought about how I've always just thrown money my folks gave me away, buying stuff I didn't really need. I'm using you as an example, and am trying to get rid of most of my junk and the clothes I don't use. I never realized how much stuff I have that just sits in the closet. My mother tells me she likes the change you've caused." He turned to the man sitting next to him. "Speaking of my mother . . ." Owen grinned.

"Were we?"

Lucas nodded. "Since you've said you're not doing anything for the holiday, would you join me? Please? I'm going to my folks' house, and I'd love to have you as a guest. My folks will care for you as much as I do; and you've already met my sister." He looked hopeful. "Say you'll come."

"Lucas, I'd feel like some 'hayseed' that just blew in, bein' around your high class parents. I don't talk like you, and I certainly don't have clothes as good as you." He bowed his head. "I'd like to, but I'd better . . ."

"Don't say no, because of clothes! And what do you mean by saying you're a hayseed? If it's because of your accent; I love it. My parents will welcome you with open arms, Owen. As far as clothes, you dress just fine." He looked at Owen from beneath partially lowered eyelids. "You just need a heavier coat, that's all."

Owen huffed a laugh of agreement, as Lucas continued. "Besides I've got tons of clothes that I'm going to give away. We're about the same size, so you're welcome to any of them you like. But, even if you don't accept anything, I wish you'd take a coat. You really should dress warmer."

"Truly," Owen grinned. "That jacket's about as drafty as my apartment."

He laughed at Lucas' hopeful expression. "Okay, I'll come. I wasn't much lookin' forward to being alone."

"Wonderful! I'll make sure and warn my parents about your appetite." Their laughter was interrupted when one of the athletic facility's employees approached them and announced that the administration had decided to close the building early because of the approaching storm.

"It's supposed to be one of the worst in years," he said. "Twenty minutes, guys" he shouted over his shoulder. "Better hustle your butts outta here."

"One of the worst on record?" Owen climbed out of the warm water, his body steaming in the cool room air. "I'm not lookin' forward to this at all." He offered Lucas a hand and they headed for the locker rooms, foregoing a shower so they'd be able to leave the building before someone came round to usher them out.

"I'll walk with you as far as your place," Owen said wrapping a threadbare scarf around his neck, and pulling the collar of his jacket up as far as it would go. He draped the strap of his bag over his shoulder and clutched it tightly to his chest, ready to brave the elements. Outside the glass doors, it had begun to snow heavily. The sound of the wind rose and fell as the branches of the trees thrashed about. Someone hurrying past, slipped and fell on the icy sidewalk. He lay stunned for a moment before scrambling up and hurrying away, quickly becoming lost to view.

"Okay, my friend," Lucas said, slapping him on the back, his gloved hand making a muffled sound. "No gloves?" He asked, glancing at Owen, who was trying to cover his hands as much as possible, and still be able to hold onto his bag. Owen shook his head and started for the exit.

"I'll be okay." He leaned against the door, pushing it open, allowing snow and wind to whip into the building's lobby. "I'm going to remember your promise of a heavier coat." He grinned from beneath hunched shoulders, and then stepped outside.

Lucas shook his head as he followed.

The gust of frigid air hitting them in the face as they opened the building's doors, was enough to take one's breath away. It was difficult to even see, let alone walk in snow that already reached mid-calf. They took only a couple steps before Lucas grabbed Owen and shouted over the howling wind. "I'm going to hold on to you so we don't get separated." Owen nodded, his shoulders hunched, his head down, the snow already beginning to stick to his short blond hair and eyebrows.

Lucas shifted his own bag to a more comfortable position and headed toward his apartment, thankful they only had a few blocks to walk. Owen though, had about a half mile more to go before he would get home.

'He's staying with me, whether he likes it or not,' Lucas vowed. 'I'm not letting him out in the storm, alone."

The horizontally blowing snow and sleet felt like tiny razors against his skin. The wind wailed, and the trees writhed above them as they trudged through the deserted campus leaving tracks which were promptly filled.

Owen shouted, close to Lucas' ear, and pointed into the distance, a flickering orange glow seen above the buildings.

"Damn, looks like there's a fire," he shouted, cupping his hand close to Owen's ear. "I pity the firefighters." He tugged at Owen's arm.

"Let's keep moving. I feel like I'm about ready to freeze in place. Owen nodded, looking determined.

By the time they crossed the street and entered the apartment complex's lobby, both men were stiff with cold. In fact, Owen was visibly shivering. His hair and eyebrows were caked with snow. He brushed the accumulated snow from his bag with raw hands, looking utterly miserable.

Lucas was sure he didn't look much better, but at least he was wearing a hat and gloves. He grabbed the unresisting Owen and pulled him toward the elevator.

"You're coming upstairs. I'm not letting you go back out there."

Owen seemed unwilling to move, looking over his shoulder, toward the door to the lobby and the swirling whiteness beyond.

"Better keep going . . . before . . . before I get . . . warm," Owen feebly protested.

Lucas' voice was firm. "No." He tugged, broaching no argument. "C'mon, big boy. I don't want my best friend to freeze his butt off." Owen's attempt at a laugh came out more like a wheeze, followed by a sneeze.

"You'd better not get pneumonia on me, Owen. I'll be seriously displeased, if you do." They crossed the apartment building's lobby, leaving a trail of snow behind them.

"Th . . . then . . . I . . . I . . . won't . . . get it," Owen stuttered, shivering as they stepped into the elevator. He had wrapped both arms around his chest and tried to keep his bare hands warm by placing them underneath his arm pits, all the while balancing the strap of his book bag on his shoulder.

They both staggered out of the elevator, crossed the small elevator lobby and headed down the hall to the apartment.

While Lucas fumbled in his pocket trying to locate his key, Owen leaned his forehead against the wall and continued to shiver.

"Damn . . . I'm . . . cold," he managed to say, his eyes closed. "Do you . . . you . . . s'pose . . . you . . . you . . . have something hot . . . to . . . to drink?" He heard Lucas struggle with the apartment key, muttering about needing to get inside. Owen couldn't manage to even think of moving just the few feet to enter Lucas' apartment. He wanted to stay right where he was, and go to sleep. 'If I'm asleep,' he thought, hearing Lucas finally manage to open the apartment's door. 'If I'm asleep, I can dream of bein' warm.' A severe shiver wracked his body. He wanted to cry, but he didn't have the energy.

'So . . . so cold,' he thought to himself. 'Don't like this one bit.' He sneezed. 'I want Sam.'

He jerked his eyes open when Lucas grabbed onto his arm and tugged him into the apartment, slamming the door behind them.

Lucas pried off his own shoes and stripped off his hat and gloves and dropped them to the floor, followed a moment later by his snow-laden coat. He turned to Owen. "We're getting you out of these clothes and into a warm shower."

"No . . . not . . . not . . . warm." There was a long pause as Owen tried to stop his teeth from chattering. He sneezed. "I want . . . it . . . hot, like that . . . that. . . p . . . pool, at school," he stammered, letting Lucas take his bag and help him off with his jacket. "So . . . cold," he muttered, as a large cake of snow slid off the flimsy denim jacket.

Lucas urged the unresisting man through the living room and into the bath, propping him against the vanity while he reached inside the shower and turned on the water.

"C'mon, big boy," he said, trying to keep Owen awake. The snow clinging to his hair and eyebrows was beginning to melt, sending rivulets of ice water over his face. "I'm gonna strip you, so just stand still."

"You . . . you just . . . just want . . . to . . . see my . . . body, huh. . . Lu . . . cas?" Owen tried to joke, as Lucas practically ripped the flimsy shirt open. He managed to get it off, thankful the room was beginning to get steamy from the heat of the shower water. He could feel a cold stream of melting snow run down his own neck and tried to stifle a shiver. Owen wasn't the only one who needed the warmth of the shower.

"Now, the pants," he urged, attempting to unfasten the snap, fumbling with fingers made clumsy from the cold.

Owen brushed Lucas away with his own red raw hands. "I'll . . ." He fumbled with the fastener and zipper, and then wrapped his arms around his chest.

"Geez . . ." Owen muttered, closing his eyes as he tried to control the shivering. "I . . . hate this. I truly . . . do." Lucas pulled the pants and underwear down and then knelt, picking one foot up and then to pry off Owen's shoes. Even the sight of Owen's limp penis only inches from his face didn't stir a reaction.

'Goes to show how cold I am,' he groaned to himself.

"C'mon, handsome," he muttered, as he pulled Owen away from the vanity. "Open your eyes, and get into the shower. I'm going to run into the kitchen and warm something up for us to drink."

"Owen mutely nodded and stepped into the shower, hissing as the warm water hit his freezing skin. He bowed his head and crossed his arms, clouded in steam as Lucas hurriedly stripped off his own wet clothing.

Lucas rushed into the kitchen and heated two cups of milk in the microwave, motioning for the machine to hurry. "You okay in there?" He shouted, loud enough to be heard over the shower spray.

"Yeah," Owen shouted back. "Could use some company though."

'He must be getting warm,' Lucas smiled to himself as the microwave counted down. 'He's joking.' The bell finally sounded and he grabbed the two mugs and headed back toward the bathroom.

Owen was still standing outside the water's spray, leaning against the wall of the shower, his eyes closed and arms hanging at his side with the back of his head touching the wall. 'At least, he's not shivering,' Lucas thought to himself as he stepped into the spray, returning Owen's wan grin as he handed him one of the steaming mugs.

"I don't know if you like milk," he managed to say, inwardly groaning in pleasure as the warm water sluiced over his body, "but it was all I could think of that didn't take any preparation." His own hand was shaking as he handed the mug to Owen, sloshing the milk over the rim.

Owen took it with both hands and slowly brought it to his lips, sipping the scalding liquid and sighing as the warmth spread inside him.

"Ohhhh," he sighed. "Thank you," he managed, rubbing a hand over his friend's shoulder and upper arm while clutching the mug of hot milk in the other. He took deep swallow. "What would I do without you? You're forever rescuing me." He joined Lucas in the shower's spray and gave him a one-arm embrace, pulling him close, feeling his cold skin against his own.

"Now, hurry and finish your drink, so I can hold you," he urged, squatting to set his empty mug on the floor of the shower, as far out of the way as possible. Lucas swallowed the last of the warm liquid and handed over his own empty mug, which Owen placed next to his own.

"Now, let's let the water do its magic," he said, pulling Lucas into a tight embrace and rubbing his hands up and down Lucas' bare back as the water splashed over them. Lucas wrapped his own arms around Owen's waist and rested his head on his shoulder.

"Damn . . . this . . . this, is nice," Lucas stammered. "Your touch is so great It's almost worth freezing my butt off for."

Owen stepped back and gave Lucas a penetrating look, before hugging him close.

"Lucas," he murmured, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the shower.

Lucas rubbed his open palms over Owen's lower back, barely controlling himself from cupping his friend's butt cheeks. "Hmmm?" he asked, not moving his head from Owen's shoulder.

"I'm thinkin' it finally time you need to know something, 'bout me." He hesitated, taking a deep breath. "I . . ." He choked, momentarily unable to go on. "I'm like your friend, Bailey. I've not wanted to tell you, but I am. So, you may not want to be holdin' me like you are." Owen's own arms fell to his sides, hanging limply.

Lucas moved back and studied his friend, who appeared to be on the verge of tears. His cheeks were a blotchy pink and his head was bowed.

"You're nothing like Bailey, Owen. Nothing!"

Owen nodded slowly. "I am. I like guys, Lucas. So does Bailey. I heard what you said when you kicked him outta the house that first day I was here. You said you didn't want to have anything to do with him; that you didn't want to be his friend, 'cause he likes guys. I do . . . t . . . to." Owen sneezed.

"I've been afraid of telling you about me, 'cause I really wanted t'be your friend." He gently disengaged himself from Lucas' embrace. "Now, I better get myself dried off, so I can get home." He reached for the shower door, but was prevented from opening it by Lucas' outstretched hand.

"You thought I was telling Bailey I didn't want to be his friend because he's gay?" Owen nodded his bowed head. "Why didn't you say that's what you thought? I mean, Owen, you're wrong. Way wrong. Way way wrong."

Owen raised his head. "How?"

Lucas gently turned Owen to face him. "My dear friend," he smiled, tilting Owen's chin up. "I didn't want to be Bailey's friend, because he's a terrible person, not because he's gay. Hell I'm gay! I made the mistake of going to bed with Bailey a couple times. After that, he seemed to think I was his personal property. I'm not his. I'm not anyone's property. That's the reason I told him to get lost; that, and because of how he treated you."

Lucas reached for Owen, who was standing dumbstruck, and pulled the unresisting man close.

"You're gay?" Owen asked in a small voice. "Truly? I mean, you're not just sayin' that?" Owen leaned back so he could look Lucas in the face. "I can continue bein' your friend?"

"Owen, you can be my lover, if you want," Lucas laughed, knowing instantly that he'd gone too far. Owen blinked, once again lowering his head.

"I can't do that, Lucas, as much as I . . ." he hesitated. "As much as I love you . . . I can't be more to you than I am right now." He lowered his voice even further. "I'm sorry." He turned his back and brushed an angry hand across his face, wiping away tears, before tilting his head back and taking a ragged breath.

Lucas stepped close, his chest to Owen's back, wrapping him in a tight embrace and resting his head on his shoulders. "Sam?" He asked, feeling as if a pit had opened and his dreams and fantasies were draining away. Owen jerked a nod and took a shuddering breath.

"I do love you, Lucas, but . . . but Sam's got my heart. He always has. Even though we're a long ways apart. I'd give anything I have to you, but I can't give you the kind of love you need. I've already given that to Sam."

"I see."

"But you're feelin' awful."

Lucas shrugged, forcing a crooked smile. "A little. . . . I guess." He raised his face attempting to not let Owen see his pain. "I can be your friend though, can't I . . . a very good friend, who'll not jump to unsubstantiated conclusions." He tried on a mock scowl and was rewarded with a shy smile and nod from Owen.

Owen pulled him close. "Oh yes, Lucas. We can be that. The very best of friends." This time, it was Owen who tilted Lucas' chin up so they were eye to eye. "And you have to remember that I do love you. Prob'ly more than you can imagine."

Lucas snaked his arms around Owen's waist, resting the open palms of his hands over the top of Owen's buttocks. "And I love you . . . my friend . . ." he murmured, close to Owen's ear, "more than you could ever know." He rested his head on Owen's shoulder, his shattered fantasies cascading around them both like the droplets of water from the shower head.

~to be continued~

Thank you for taking the time to read my work. I always welcome your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts. If you would like me to send you a pic of the character(s), please ask.

My other stories on Nifty include: Phalen (located in the Gay College Section) Phalen - Finding Happiness (Gay College Section) Chris (Gay College Section) Leith (Gay College Section) Owen (Gay College Section Wesley (Adult Relationships Section) Jess (Gay Incest Section)

I hope you enjoy them all.

Next: Chapter 11


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