Say Goodbye to Sparkleland

Say Goodbye to Sparkleland Chapter 25

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The last chapter ended on Christmas Day.

25

December 26. The return to work was a drag. The post-holiday letdown became a reality. Layton left my apartment at the same time as I departed for work. Even though I had a goodbye kiss, it seemed indicative of the festive joy coming to an end. Work just seemed drab.

Tanya and Ashley asked about Layton, so that allowed me to convey some happy feelings.

During the evening, I ventured out to get more Christmas decorations at fifty percent off. A few sets of lights (I'd figure out how to use them somehow), a Santa figure and a sleigh I liked were an investment, but it wasn't an outrageous expense. I bought two boxes of cards to mail next year.

I wasn't going to take any decorations down in the apartment until January.

—

Typically, at The Black Stallion, Sunday nights were slow. Only the front bar was open, and just until 10. Carter and Layton said they were always off. However, New Year's Eve was a different story.

As Layton and I tried to settle into how our schedules would match up, the "norm" would be Thursday and Sunday nights. He was off those days. This week would be different.

I spent the night at his place again on Thursday. After we made love, he asked me what I was going to do December 31 since he had to work.

"Is it okay if I come to the club? I'd love to kiss you at midnight."

"Umm. Just know I am going to be slammed all night. I'll barely have time to talk at all."

"I get that. I – I just want to be there for that moment."

Layton kissed me. "You're sweet. I just don't want you to be alone. Can you come with friends?"

"I'll see if Logan and Nate are up to it."

"Good. Yes."

"I realize it will be a very late night for you, but I'd love for you to come to my place and collapse in my bed. It would be nice to start off the first hours of the year with you in my arms."

"Mitchell, I'm sure I'll be sweaty and covered in spills. I'll probably smell foul."

"I doubt that. If I can't stand being snuggled next to you, then we'll just shower together."

"Hmm. You make that tempting. I'll consider it and let you know this weekend. Please know that I love your invitation. I just worry I will be beyond exhausted."

"I understand that. Collapse into a heap with me."

He kissed me again.

—

"Thank you for doing this," Logan said, answering his door.

"What? You two are the ones fixing dinner."

His hand was placed on my chest, and he pushed me back outside.

"We'd never go anywhere if it was up to Nate. I guilted him into going out. We haven't been out to a gay ... anything ... in ages. It'll be good for him."

"Well, I just want to be with Layton at midnight. We can leave at 12:05 if he wants."

Logan laughed. We then went inside.

Nate was in the kitchen — in an apron, of all things.

"Happy holidays, Nate," I said. "Goodness, don't you look domestic."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not getting anything on me."

"What are we having?"

"Pork chops. I have scalloped potatoes and baked asparagus too."

"Sounds great," I said, gazing around the kitchen and noticing how elegant it was with beautiful cabinets and the latest, high-end appliances.

We knew eating out would be a long waiting list no matter where we went. They offered to cook dinner, and then we'd head to The Black Stallion around 9. I even told them I'd be willing to be the designated driver.

They had wine with dinner, but since I told them I'd be the driver, I declined, which gave me an "out." Part of me wanted to prove I didn't develop a liking for the beverage after all, but I was fine with ice water. I'd have one drink at the club.

My hosts had made a beautiful salad, which was served with bread that screamed "Artisanal!" I wouldn't even know where to buy such bread.

The main course was quite good as well.

"This is delicious, Nate," I said during dinner.

Having said that, I felt the asparagus needed salt. I looked at what they had on the table. There was a grinder of pink crystals.

"Is ... this salt?"

"Yes," Nate answered. "It's pink Himalayan salt from Pakistan."

Of course it is.

"Oh."

I watched the two of them interact. Logan had said they had fallen into a rut. By appearances, they seemed to be in a good place. I wanted Logan — both of them — to be happy. Tonight should be fun at least.

After the dishwasher was loaded, Logan served a small dish of raspberry sorbet. Perfect.

Forty minutes later, we pulled into Stallion's parking lot.

"Wow. I've never seen this many cars. It's barely 9."

"You don't come on busy nights?" Nate asked.

"Typically, around happy hour. I started coming on Wednesdays following my sessions with Logan. I was his last patient each time."

"He makes a point to not talk about his patients," Nate said.

"He did know you were seeing me though. I mentioned that much," his husband interjected. "That's okay, isn't it?"

"Of course. I'm an open book. What do you want to know, Nate?"

"No. No. No. That's just between us in my office," Logan objected.

Nate laughed. "Your secrets appear to be safe, Mitchell."

"It's not really a secret. Even you know I cheated on Cooper. The rest of the details are just me getting better after fucking up."

We had to park in back.

A New Year's Eve cover charge began at 10, but we beat that. The place was busy. I couldn't imagine it three hours later. A band had already started in the back.

There were no empty tables, so we agreed to be content to stand at the side.

"I'll get us something. What would you like?" I asked.

"Do they have wine?" Nate asked.

"I imagine."

"Cabernet, please."

"Ooo. I like cabernet." At least I thought I did. It wasn't like a regular drink for me or anything.

"Margarita on the rocks, no salt."

I nodded and headed to the bar.

I saw Layton, Carter and a third bartender I didn't know. He must be a weekend person. All three of them looked occupied. I tried to get Layton's attention. He wasn't wearing his white shirt. Like the bartenders in the back, all of them were shirtless with open denim vests. He looked hot. So did Carter (except for the tattoos).

We made eye contact. He lit up. His smile was huge.

Layton came out of the bar and hugged me. He planted a kiss on my lips that was beyond welcoming.

"I'm busy, busy, busy. We could really use a fourth bartender."

"Did someone not show up?"

"No, we just didn't expect this kind of crowd this early."

"I'm only having one drink tonight. I'm the designated driver. I'll take a bottle of Mich. I need a margarita rocks no salt and a glass of cabernet. After that, it's just Sprite for me the rest of the night."

"Okay. If you say so. Did you guys find a table?"

"Fat chance."

"Keep your eyes open. Once people start dancing, some will open up. Pounce when you see one."

I took Nate's glass of wine separately so that I didn't spill. I returned to get my bottle of Michelob and Logan's margarita. Layton smiled at me and gave me a wink. I winked back.

"I'm really enjoying being a couple again," I said, smiling when I returned.

"That's good to hear," said Nate. "There is something to be said for a committed relationship."

"Whoa. It's only been a couple of weeks. I'm not sure I'm in a committed relationship."

"You're off to a good start," Logan noted.

"We are, yes. I just feel ... alive around him. It has been good to release all the guilt and shame I carried following Cooper." I looked at Layton again and then turned to my friends. "Not that I'll ever forget the mistake I made with Cooper, I'm trying not to let it define me."

"True," Logan said.

The band took a break in the back, and a DJ started some line dances in the main room. Some people made their way to the dance floor. We snagged a table when the opportunity presented itself.

"Thank God," Nate said. "I had no desire to stand for three hours."

I saw Layton dart to the bathroom. I so wanted to follow him, just to talk for even a minute, but I knew he had to pee and then rush back. When he did so, he zipped over to our table.

"You all doing okay?"

"Yeah, babe. Thanks."

He kissed me and maneuvered back to the bar.

"I love you two together," Logan said.

"I want it to go well."

"How's the sex?"

"Why Dr. Horwood, what a thing to ask!"

He giggled. "I'm not your doctor tonight."

"It's good. He's a top, so I guess that means I'm always a bottom, but ... I don't mind that. At least not for now."

"You'll work things out."

I pictured Layton's cock in my ass. I totally wanted him to come to my place after work. I watched him feverishly pour drinks behind the bar to keep up with customer requests. He just made me smile. I liked having a boyfriend.

To my surprise, Logan went out to the dance floor solo and joined the crowd.

"He does line dancing?" I asked Nate.

"He got into it before the two of us got together. He knows some songs."

He did. His husband and I enjoyed watching our beloved psychologist enjoy himself in sync with the others.

"How are things with you?" I asked, but it was getting a little harder to hear.

"Fine. We've found a groove lately. I don't know if it is the holidays or what, but we've managed to make a little more time for each other."

"I'm glad you could join me tonight," I almost shouted.

He replied loudly as well. "I'm not a big partier on New Year's Eve, but it is fun, I guess. We'll see how I feel three hours from now."

"You're not a dancer?"

"Not line dancing. I don't know the first thing."

We watched him finish up.

At 10:30, the DJ switched to techno, but the band had started in the back, so there was a little bit of competition between the two. Dance music vs. two-step.

We made sure someone was always at the table to stand guard. The three of us took turns to show our moves on the dance floor. Nate and Logan were kind to make sure I got a few dances in, along with theirs.

By 11, the crowd was almost crushing, even with the larger portion of customers with the live band in back.

At 11:30, I got our last round of drinks. Carter gave them to me this time. He didn't seem his normal friendly self. While the money was good, he had to be incredibly tired. All the bartenders still had more than two hours before last call.

At ten minutes to midnight, shirtless men pulled several clusters of balloons into the crowds. Somehow. The maneuverability through the crowd was challenging.

I was watching Layton and wondered how I would get over to him by midnight. However, at five minutes `til, all the bartenders vacated the bars and joined the crowd. Layton and Carter made their way over to our table.

"How are you holding up?" I asked them.

"Barely," said Carter.

"Hanging in there," my boyfriend smiled, giving me a quick kiss.

Prince's "1999" started playing. The DJ knew the length would be just right to end fifteen seconds before midnight.

"Let me hear ya, people!" He got the crowd going in the countdown. In mere seconds, we all had counted down from ten to one in a universal chant.

Some people had noisemakers at midnight, but almost everyone yelled "Happy New Year!"

I looked in Layton's eyes. He looked into mine. He smiled. We kissed. Slowly. A long, deep kiss. As we pulled apart, I saw that Nate and Logan had done the same.

And then there was Carter. I looked at him. He had watched us all kiss. He was alone. My hands grabbed his denim vest and pulled him into me.

"Happy New Year, Carter," I said, before giving him a quick kiss.

"Thanks," he smiled.

Layton did the same. "Happy New Year, buddy."

To my surprise, Logan moved over to give me one as well.

"We gotta go back now," Layton said, after one last kiss.

"We'll close out our tab," Nate said. "I'll be over in a minute."

Logan looked at me. "I guess we're going shortly."

Before Layton could completely slip away, I grabbed his hand. "Please come to my place when you're done."

"We'll see how I feel. You know I'll be dead."

"I understand. But you can still die in my bed."

He winked and headed back to the bar.

The sounds of balloons being popped made lots of noise. Supposedly, a few of them contained prizes: appetizers at restaurants, free drinks at Stallion and one was reported to have a $50 bill. We didn't bother with trying to snag one.

Ten minutes later, we took the last gulps of our drinks and worked our way to the car. We weren't the only ones. Not everyone was bailing; the live music kept the party going. But several other people were calling it quits or moving on to their next stop.

As I started the car, from the back seat, I heard Logan ask his husband: "See. Wasn't that better than staying home?"

"No," Nate plainly said.

In the rearview mirror, I could see Logan roll his eyes and tease Nate, "Yeah, you're Mr. Fun."

"I came, didn't I?"

—

Close to three hours later, I felt a touch on my shoulder. I jumped a bit in my sleep.

"I wanted you to know I'm here," Layton said.

I looked at the clock: 3:03. "I'm glad."

"I feel totally gross."

"You smell okay."

"Uck. I'm sweat and beer and sweet-and-sour ... I don't even want you to touch me. I'm gonna shower, okay?"

"I'll join you," I mumbled, trying to sound awake.

"No, don't do that. It will wake you up."

"I want to be awake for you."

"That's silly."

"Not if I want you to fuck me."

"We'll see."

I lumbered into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I hung a towel for each of us.

My boyfriend's clothes were in a heap at the side of the bed. I slipped off my underwear.

Layton groaned as if experiencing the greatest orgasm ever as the hot spray washed over his body. I stepped in behind him and began to rub shampoo into his hair. He lightly moaned. Covering his beautiful figure in a sea of suds, I rubbed and massaged his muscles, making him groan further. The attention to his crotch got him hard.

Which got me hard.

Once he was rinsed, Layton turned to hold me under the soothing water.

"This feels really nice. Thanks," he said, holding me.

I felt his hand reach down between us. He maneuvered my cock to press against his, and then he held them together tightly, slowly stroking them up and down.

We kissed.

"I'm glad you're here," I said. "How was the shift overall?"

"Exhausting," he said, still stroking our erections in his grip. "My cut was about $550 tonight."

"Nice."

He let go of our male organs to turn off the water. "Let's get to the bed."

As he dried his wonderful body, I dropped to my knees to let my tongue explore his crack. It darted toward his hole; I peeled his cheeks apart to let my nose enter the crevice. My tongue licked the pleasurable flesh at his entrance.

"Mitch," he said. "The bed."

Layton knew there was lube in "his" drawer. He reached down for a hand towel. I watched him coat his hard dick with a slick shine.

"Ride me, babe," he requested.

The lighting was down to just one lamp. In the low illumination, I straddled his legs. I reached for the bottle of lube to squirt some on my fingers. I slid the slippery liquid into my hole. Layton smiled as I moved up several inches to position my ass above his jutting pole.

I initiated the insertion. "Ohhhh," I breathed. My ass slowly lowered onto his penetrating sword.

He hummed in the sensations of being inside me. I moved up and down on his shaft. My own cock bobbed before me. My hips gyrated around his hard dick. I rocked on him. I writhed on his erection.

Then I heard something. It was a slight wheeze. I looked down on him. Even though his cock was inside me, I could tell by his eyes and his breathing — Layton was asleep.

I smiled. I knew he was dead tired. I pulled off his penis, which was beginning to deflate. I used the hand towel to wipe off my dick, then his. I twisted my body to turn out the lamp. I snuggled up to him and put my arm over his chest. I kissed him on the cheek, and that didn't awaken him either.

Our first hours together in the new year were taken with me holding him, both of us naked. And that was lovely enough for me.

—

I poured myself a second cup of coffee. It was 9:40. As the clink of the spoon stirred an international creamer in my java, I saw the bedroom door open. Layton walked out, scratching his head. His hair was an utter mess, which just made him more adorable.

Still naked, his dick dangled before him. Layton was maybe three inches when not erect. But I no longer needed to take notes. My black book was long gone.

"Good morning. Coffee? Or are you heading back to bed for more sleep?"

"Umm. Yes and no. Yes to the coffee."

"I understand if you want some more sleep."

I poured a cup and slid it across the counter to him. Then I let my fingers lightly graze his chest.

He took a sip. Layton was noticeably silent.

"What happened last night?" he finally asked.

"What do you remember?"

"The shower."

"Mm hmm. Do you remember me being on top of you?"

"No. Uhh. A little. I think."

"You fell asleep."

"Dear God," he groaned. "I am so sorry."

"It's all fine." I reached down to fondle his penis. "I was just glad you were here with me."

I could tell by his expression that he felt he let me down, but I hoped I could convince him otherwise.

"We're all off today. Would you like to do something?"

Layton sipped on his coffee. "I don't have any huge goals. Just relaxing. Actually, grabbing burgers might be nice — if someplace is open."

"Surely we can find something," I said.

"Then, I'll probably crash into a major nap this afternoon."

"Understandably."

I held him from behind and let my hands roam over his chest as he sipped some more. I could tell by his body language that he approved.

"Maybe you can find something for me to wear?" he asked.

"I'm sure I can." I kissed the back of his neck. "But I kind of like you this way. At least for a while."

"Hmm," he purred into his coffee.

I continued to kiss his neck and grip his torso. I was in sweatpants, but the bulge was evident when I pressed my waist into his ass. I continued to feel him. He reached behind me and stuck his hand in my pants. I moaned into my kisses.

Layton turned his neck to where our strained mouths could meet. My own hands reached to his crotch and found his hard-on. He turned in my arms to where we faced each other. We kissed passionately, and his hands moved around to clutch my ass cheeks. Moaning, we lost all sense of time. We just kissed. And felt. And inhaled.

"Ohhh," I moaned. "I'm so glad you came over."

"Me too," he groaned back.

I dropped to my knees to take his dick in my mouth. First, I rubbed my nose along its length, smelling the man who was now my boyfriend. My tongue toyed with his dangling balls. I wish mine hung like that.

I consumed the full length of his erection. Layton groaned loudly. "Ohhhhhh, suck me, Mitchell."

For minutes, I did. Leaning against the counter, Layton moaned and wailed as I slid my wet mouth over his erect beam. His hands held my head, feeling its movement on his cock. I loved listening to my boyfriend call out my name repeatedly while I sucked and licked and bobbed on his rigid organ.

Layton continued to moan louder. I should have been worried about what neighbors might hear, but I didn't care. I was just thrilled to have a boyfriend in my apartment, and I was milking his cock.

"Ohhhh, Mitchell. Mitchell. MItchellllll. Ohhhh. OH! OH! OHHHH!!!"

Cum hit my mouth, and I attempted to swallow it before it made me cough. My hands gripped his legs tightly as he unloaded in my face. Layton continued to moan and pant and gasp in the final seconds of his orgasm.

"Ohhhh, fuck. And Happy New Year," he breathed.

I smiled at him and stood up. To my surprise, he reached for his coffee and lowered it to his crotch. With a flick of his free hand, he made a final drop of cum land into the liquid. Then maneuvering his body, his dick entered the coffee, as I gasped.

"It's not hot anymore," he grinned. His erection was quickly fading, and he stirred his warm coffee with his cock.

"Are you leaking?" he asked.

"I typically do."

"Stick your cock in."

"I'm too hard."

"We'll see what we can do."

It was all very curious, but he set his coffee mug on the floor.

"Now. Work your cock into it. Leak some precum in there."

I attempted my best to acknowledge my boyfriend's wild request.

"Lick me," he said.

I got on my knees and brought my mouth back to his penis. His coffee-flavored penis. "Mmmm."

"Nice, huh?"

I nodded. It was just coffee. I wasn't sure if any of my precum had made into his lukewarm beverage, but he had dipped his dick into it before that.

Layton motioned for me to follow him. He led us to the bedroom. I quickly dropped my sweatpants and peeled off my T-shirt.

"I wish I was hard again so that you could ride me after last night, but I want you above me just the same."

Layton reclined on the bed, and I moved my knees to both sides of his waist. His hands pulled me closer. He reached up to grab my cock. He began jerking it. It felt hard. It felt long. It felt unbreakable. He let go to fluff the pillow behind his head to make it lean upright.

"Take over," he breathed.

I grabbed my erection and the masturbation resumed. Layton's hands reached up to feel my chest. My arm churned my cock as if making butter. I moaned. Layton moaned with me. I felt his chest. He felt my chest. I groaned louder. He groaned louder with me. I began writhing on his belly. He reached underneath me to grab his cock. He wiped it across my ass cheeks as it began to get firm again. He stroked his cock. I stroked my cock harder.

I growled as my sexual gratification intensified. I tilted my head back. "Gaaaahhhh. I'm getting there. Layton. I'm close. Unnngggghhh!"

"Yeah, babe. Come for me."

"I'm close."

"Come for me."

"I'm close."

Layton reached for his mug and placed it at his chin. He opened his mouth like a target.

"Ungh. Unggggh. Unnnnggggh! OHHHHH! YES!!"

I watched cum drip across his chin, mouth and a nostril. Then the rest of my climax poured into the mug, the head of my cock being stimulated by the hard rim. I panted and gasped. He looked up at me and smiled. I watched him set the mug back down.

"Come up here," he grinned.

I moved my dick into his mouth, and he sucked on It for a minute. I just breathed, trying to regain a normal pattern. The sensations of his tongue on my male flesh were magnificent. I wondered if any coffee flavoring remained on my skin.

"Now I just need to heat this back up," he smiled.

"You. Are. Kinky," I smiled back.

"Just with coffee."

I reached behind me for his fairly stiff penis. Carefully, I moved to his side.

"Happy New Year, babe."

"Indeed," he replied back.

We were quiet for a minute. We lay there, simply breathing.

I wasn't expecting Layton to sit up and then cover me with his body. My arms wrapped around his naked back. Our satisfied dicks nuzzled into the other. Our legs worked together like black and white piano keys. We kissed until we lost track of time. Eventually I pulled him to me completely, wanting his body weight to crush me. I felt crushed in a loving way. After one last kiss, he rolled off me and grabbed his coffee to warm it up.

I brought a pair of boxer shorts and a T-shirt to the kitchen. He slipped them on as his mug of cum-enhanced coffee rotated on the glass carousel in the microwave.

Ding.

"Try?" he asked.

"You first."

My boyfriend easily sipped on the piping hot beverage. He handed it to me.

I couldn't tell the difference between cum and the French vanilla creamer, which kind of comforted me and weirded me out. I took a sip.

"I don't taste anything different."

"Of course not. It's all mental. And fun. And hot." He took another sip. "Just like you," he whispered in my ear and nibbled on the ear lobe.

"I'm fun and hot? Or am I mental?"

"You are so fucking hot, Mitchell," he whispered into my lips before giving me the hundredth kiss of the new year.

—

Just as I did on December 26, I was already dreading returning to work in the morning. The holidays were officially over. Layton left mid-afternoon. I put away all the Christmas decorations, few that they were. I wasn't sure if there was any point to leaving the Christmas cards on the coffee table, but they didn't need to be "put away," so I was content to leave them there a while longer.

Cooper's card caught my eye. It was a great picture of him, Corey and Larry. I wondered if Layton and I would still be together next Christmas. Would we want to make a card together? I imagined that would only happen if we lived together. And I realized I was getting waaaaay too far ahead of myself.

The cell rang. Curiously, it was Layton.

"Hi, handsome."

"Hi," he replied, but even in that two-letter response, I could tell something was wrong.

"What is it?"

"Would you ... would you be willing to come over?"

"Uhhh ... I can. You just left me five hours ago."

"I know. I know. I ..." He stopped talking.

"Layton?"

"I just want you to be here. I don't want to be by myself."

"Did anything happen?"

"I'll tell you when you get here."

"O – okay. I guess it is fine to bring work clothes and spend the night?"

"Please."

I didn't often see Layton shaken. Something was off.

Twenty-five minutes later, I was at his apartment door.

"Hi," he said, answering the door with a hug.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Ohhh, I'm probably making it into something more than it needs to be."

"I'm listening."

"I crashed into a long nap when I got home. Once I had dinner, I called my parents to say, `Happy New Year.' Mom asked me what I did to celebrate. I reminded them that it is a big work night and how much I made and yada, yada, yada. Of course, Dad had to bring me down. He made some off-the-cuff remark about last night's earnings would have to carry me through these slow months following the holidays. It was that whole `You're just a bartender' thing. It put me into a funk." Layton looked at me. "I just ... didn't feel like dwelling on it by myself. I didn't want to be alone."

"I see. Well, I'm here."

"I'm not expecting you to do anything. Don't feel obligated to cheer me up. Just ... be here."

"Okay. I can do that."

I walked up to him and held him in my arms. "I'm sorry," I softly said.

Layton sighed. "He is who he is. He'll never approve of me being a bartender."

My boyfriend's situation made me think about my own parents. Cooper had always struggled with his. Layton's dad had issues. Carter didn't seem really close with his family. I realized I was lucky in that regard. Even when I lost Cooper for cheating on him, my parents were there with unconditional love. I squeezed him a little tighter.

"So ... what would you like to do to get your mind off of ... all that?"

"Is a movie okay?"

"Here?"

"Sure. We can stream something."

I nodded.

"I can nuke some popcorn," he said.

"I'm fine for the moment. I had dinner not too long ago."

"I'm grabbing a beer. Want one?"

"Please."

I went into his bedroom and took my small rollaboard. I hung my clothes to wear tomorrow to work. Layton didn't have a lot of extra room, but I fit my clothing in to where it shouldn't wrinkle.

When I returned to the living room, Layton handed me a very chilled beer. I always liked it in glass the best. I loved the frosted schooners at The Stallion.

For a few minutes, we struggled to find a film selection that seemed right. Oppenheimer was too heavy — and long; Barbie seemed too silly (although something lighthearted sounded like a good idea). We opted for Magic Mike's Last Dance. He hadn't seen the first films, but I gave him a brief synopsis.

The guys were supremely hot, but the film's plot was pretty thin. In actuality, it was a good choice just to get our minds off things.

Once our beers were finished, Layton grabbed a pillow from his bed. He placed it at the end of the couch. He positioned me to lie down, and he stretched out in front of me. My arm was around him.

I thought it nice to be able to do this. I hadn't been in a relationship to where an occasion like this — just lying together in a relaxed setting — could happen ... not in a long time. I loved having a boyfriend.

At times, my hand would just rub his chest, over his T-shirt. During a hot dance scene, I let my hand slip up his shirt and gently rub small circles on a nipple.

We had enjoyed sex earlier in the day. That wasn't the plan — at least not for the moment.

I kissed the top of his head. "Can we pause for popcorn?" I meekly asked.

Layton chuckled and sat up. Minutes later, I could hear the kernels popping in the microwave. The unmistakable aroma of popcorn filled the apartment. Soon, we each sat on the couch with a bowl in our laps. Layton opened a second beer. Since I had to work the next morning, ice water worked for me.

I hadn't been in a relationship with Layton long enough to read all his moods. On the surface, he seemed to be feeling better. Hopefully with each passing hour, all that negative energy would dissipate.

Once our snack had been consumed, we resumed our reclining positions on the couch, which I had come to love. I adored holding a man, so having my arm draped over him was a pleasure.

When the final — and most erotic — stripper scene aired, my hand went up inside his T-shirt again. Layton unbuttoned his jeans. That seemed like an invitation to me. My hand slid down below the waistband of "my boxers" and found his erection, firm and anchored. I groped it. He lightly hummed while still watching the male dancers. I gently stroked his cock, but the intention wasn't to bring him off. I just wanted to appreciate his anatomy — and his company.

As the credits started to roll, it was 10:35. My hand was still on his crowbar of a cock.

"I know we had sex earlier today," I started in a whisper at his ear, "but ... I think my body would love that inside me again."

He turned his head to smile at me. "I think that part of my body would enjoy that too."

Layton turned out the lights and grabbed my wrist. As he walked me to the bedroom, his jeans (my jeans) were still unbuttoned and bulging.

Minutes later, teeth were brushed, a candle was lit, I had peed, and my boyfriend had needed "items" at the bedside. The glow of the candle made the ambience alluring and romantic. We stood at our sides of the bed completely naked. I watched him put his knee on top of the sheets and crawl to the center. Lying on his back, his cock once again jutted like a cannon. His right arm extended toward me as a silent invitation.

I leaned over to kiss him. We pressed our lips together for long minutes, long enough for my own cock to become steel.

I moved my eager organ to his face and his mouth opened wide. I groaned as it entered. I had just come eleven or twelve hours earlier that day, but I was horny as hell once again. As I moved my dick in and out of Layton's mouth, he manipulated items to the side without looking at them with the skill of Helen Keller. My eyes watched him reach for the lube and first plug. It was behind me, but I knew what was happening. Then I felt it, waiting to be inserted. I moved back and let it inch its way in. The diameter of the plug made it easier. It was thinner than his cock. But I felt opened.

I continued to thrust my hard-on into his mouth while at the same time worked with my boyfriend to move the plug back and forth in my hole. I moaned; he echoed a moan into my rigid flesh, knowing he was pleasuring me.

I pulled out of his face and looked down at him. I smiled. He smiled.

"Get your cock ready," I softly said.

There was no hesitation. He applied lube to his erection. I got the impression that he was holding it firm and upright for me. I moved back until I felt the head of his dick pressed into my crack.

I took in a long breath and let the head push inside. Our eyes were locked. He gave me the time I needed. I nodded and lowered my body down onto his javelin. I breathed in and out while he remained motionless.

My ass lowered completely to his crotch. He was fully inside me.

"Ohhhh, yes," I softly cooed.

Layton remained still, letting me take the lead.

I felt his manhood fill me. I leaned my head back and let his warm flesh stretch me open in the most pleasurable way. Slowly, I moved up and down his shaft. Layton moaned. I shifted my butt forward and back, sliding his cock within me.

"Yeeees," I hissed in sexual glee. "Yes."

"Yes," he echoed back.

I writhed my hips and squirmed on his rod. Gyrating and pulsing and undulating and twisting — I choreographed his stiff anatomy inside me.

"Oh. Oh yeah," he panted.

I began moving up and down his cock in a steady rhythm.

"That's it, Mitch. Ride me, cowboy," he breathed.

I groaned, feeling his warm hardness move within me.

"Ride me, Bronco."

I placed my hands on his pecs, and we became a steam engine, working together as a single machine. He pushed up in me, and I continued to bounce as if in a saddle.

"Mitch."

"Layton."

"Ride me."

I growled. He groaned.

Up. Down. Thrusting. Pushing. Riding. In. Out. Bouncing. Fucking. Grunting.

"Fuck yeah," he said.

"Fuck," I groaned.

"Fuck yes."

"Fuck me, Layton. Harder."

Words stopped. We moaned and wailed and grunted. His hands felt the hair on my thighs. I rode his pole like a carousel.

Groans became louder, a bit too loud for my tastes, but I was in the middle of it, and groaning felt good.

He thrust his dick up in me with more force, making me bounce even more as if on horseback.

"Uuuungh," I moaned.

"Ohhhhh, yeeeaaaahhh," he wailed.

Together, we created a sexual pony ride, almost to the point I wished I was wearing a cowboy hat.

"UNGH!! Ride me, Bronco!" he screamed.

"Fuck me!"

"Fuck, yeah!"

"Fuck me harder, Layton. Faster!"

His hips jackhammered into my waiting ass. "FUCK YES! Fuck. Ohhh. Ungh."

Layton's hands rubbed up and down my thighs. He felt the hair on my legs and teased it with his fingertips.

"Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. FUCK ME!"

"Ohhhh, GOD! I love being inside you, Mitch. Ride me. Ride my cock. RIDE MY FUCKING COCK!!!!"

I groaned. He groaned.

I reached for his shoulders. My hands held him tight, gripping his collar bones. My thumbs rubbed the top of his chest.

"Fuck me harder. HARDER!"

Like a stream train, Layton plowed his cock through me. I wailed in pleasure. His face twisted in both sexual sensations and physical effort.

"UNGH!!"

"Harder!"

My hands moved closer to his throat, but my grip wasn't painful.

"FUCK! Mitchell. OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!!!"

"Come inside me, Layton. Come for me!!"

I rode his cock as he thrust it harder into me.

With each screamed "UNGHH!!" his waist lifted me from his body, jamming a barrel of a shotgun inside me, firing bullets of liquid ecstasy.

We bucked and bounced for half a minute in his orgasm. I reached for my cock and started pounding it. He grunted following his final shot; I groaned as I worked my dick like a dynamo.

"Keep fucking me," I whispered.

"Yeah." He did.

"Keep fucking me."

"Yeah." He did.

"Stay inside me. Fuck me. Don't pull out. FUCK ME!"

Layton kept ramming his dick into me, attempting to keep it hard and rigid.

I wanted to come more quickly, and I kept stroking my cock harder and harder. I wasn't close, but I could feel myself getting there.

Layton played with my nipples and rubbed my thighs, my legs, my chest.

I could feel my climax getting closer. I began to wail. By the time it was at the brink, I sounded like a siren.

"I'm coming!"

Cum released from cock and landed on his chest. It didn't fire far, but it kept coming and coming. I groaned all the way through it. I bucked on his cock until I felt I could come no more.

I continued to sit on his body, breathing, panting. When our eyes met, we both exhaled. I knew he was exhausted continuing to fuck me following his climax.

Flopping next to him, my finger dabbed in the pools and streaks of cum on his chest. He stuck his tongue out, and I dotted it with my cream.

"It was nice of you to come over, Mitch."

"Obviously, it was my pleasure."

"Let's get cleaned up."

Layton was very thorough about cleaning after sex. After we returned to the bedroom, I put underwear back on to sleep in. He remained naked. Blowing out the candle, he said, "Good night." We held each other for a few minutes. I fell asleep first.

—

I gently pressed my lips on Layton's. His eyes opened. He was startled.

"Good morning ... and goodbye."

"Huh?" He looked at me fully dressed. "You showered?"

"I did."

"Wow. You're quiet."

"I used to be quiet during sex, but I definitely wasn't last night."

"I'll say." He smiled at me. "Thanks for coming over. I felt a lot better with you being here."

I kissed him again. "I have my clothes you wore too. Have a good day."

"You too." He smiled. "Bronco." I smiled back.

I kissed his cock. Normally, knowing it was in my ass, I wouldn't have done that, but Layton is a stickler for vigorously cleaning up after sex.

After I went out the front door, a woman was coming down the stairs from an upper floor.

I politely said, "Good morning."

"I'll bet." She smiled. "It sounded like some night."

I was instantly red. "I'm sorry."

"I ... enjoyed it, let's say."

"I'm sorry."

Awkwardly, I walked to my car.

—

It had only been two days since I had seen Layton, but I still wanted to stop in on my Wednesday night.

Layton lit up when I pulled up a bar stool. He leaned over to give me a kiss over the bar. Then he came around to hold me half a minute later. Carter's look of us showing affection was odd. He hadn't been the same since the two of us had started seeing each other.

Was he jealous?

"Are you coming over tomorrow night?" I asked.

"For sure."

Lorenzo had been a few stools down. He moved down to sit next to me.

"Happy New Year," he said.

"And to you," I politely returned.

"Things seem good between you and Layton."

"They are."

I didn't want to talk about my sex life with Lorenzo.

"So. Any New Year's resolutions for you?" I asked.

I was highly skeptical that he would say he was coming out to his coworkers and family.

He didn't.

"Actually, yes. I'm giving up sweets."

"Well, that's a good thing, I suppose."

"Tough for me. I like desserts. My doctor isn't happy with my A1C numbers."

"Carbs can be a bitch, too."

"And you?"

Suddenly, I was stumped by the very question I had posed to Lorenzo. I hadn't given the idea any thought at all.

"I ... guess not. Heaven knows I'm a wreck, so I-"

"A handsome wreck."

"Don't flatter me. I have a lot of baggage. Hmm. There could be a thing or two I could work on."

Layton was at the other end of the bar. Carter walked up.

"Happy New Year, Mitch."

"To you as well. I hear NYE went well for you all."

"Exhausting, but ... yes." Carter looked at me intently. "Everything good?"

What did that mean?? How curious.

He lightly gripped my wrist. "Be careful."

What did THAT mean??!

Layton walked back to us, and Carter let go. He stepped away. Lorenzo and I looked at each other, confused. His expression said, "What the fuck?" as well.

Layton and I looked at each other. "Is it okay if I cook for us tomorrow?" I asked.

"Sure. Want me to bring anything?"

"Just an overnight bag."

"OoooOOOooo," Lorenzo mocked.

"Chill, Lorenzo," Layton said.

My boyfriend and I kissed again.

Even though Carter seemed off, and I never had time alone with him the rest of the night to have him explain, things were somewhat normal.

Lying in bed later that night, Lorenzo's question swirled in my brain. Was there a resolution I could work on? Therapy had made my outlook on life a lot better. I had moved on from Cooper. I was seeing someone else. What was there that I could work on? Besides a million things.

Larry and I had our tender encounter at the Christmas party. Could I ... could I possibly rejoin coffee at 9 on Sundays? I'd love to see Cooper again. And Emory. Would Larry want me there? Could I do this??

—

Thursday, January 4.

To: Cooper Snow
From: Mitchell Sanders

Subject: Coffee

Hi,

I was thinking about starting over on some things for the New Year. This may be asking too much, but I was wondering if coming back to Joe for coffee would be a good idea. Or not. What do you think?

Send.

I drummed my fingers on my desk. It wasn't like he'd reply immediately. He might not see the email for a while. Or maybe tomorrow.

The tone of an email came in.

To: Mitchell Sanders
From: Cooper Snow

Subject: Coffee

Totally! Yes! Please. Everyone would love to see you.

To: Cooper Snow
From: Mitchell Sanders

Subject: Coffee

Does that include Larry? PLEASE ask. I don't want things to be weird.

Send.

My office line rang.

It was Cooper. "Hey."

Just hearing his voice still made me melt, but I had a handle on it now. We were through. We weren't a couple, nor would we be.

"Hi. I – I don't want to show up if it will make things weird."

"Please come. Corey would LOVE to see you."

"Oh man, I'd love to see that kid. I miss him."

"He misses you."

"How much does he understand?"

Cooper paused. "Enough. He knows the main points."

"And he doesn't think I'm a total piece of shit?"

"He loves you. He and I have talked about mistakes. And consequences. And friendship. He's a mature kid."

"Yes, he is. Are you sure Larry wouldn't want me to stay away from your family?"

"He's fine. I'll ask for you though. But you know that he and I are solid, right? I want to make sure you know that. Laramie and I love each other to the fullest."

I sighed. "I get that. I understand."

"I'd still love for us to be close friends if it isn't too painful for you."

"I've put a lot of that to rest. I suppose some wounds will be around for a while, but..."

"Me too. You're always in my heart, Mitch."

"I don't think those scars will hurt any less if I run from them. I would like to see everybody."

"Then, yes, please come."

—

Sunday. It was 9:15. From my car, I could see them all in Joe through the window. My heart beat faster than I wanted it to. But if I was going to work on this resolution to put past mistakes behind me and rebuild relationships, then ... I needed to go in.

The short walk to the door was a walk to the electric chair. I was so scared. Then I got thinking about prisoners walking to the electric chair and wondered if they were at peace with it or if they had their heart rate pulsing blood from their wrists.

I took a breath. I exhaled slowly.

As I walked in, Brad saw me. His eyes opened wide, then he softened his expression. I gave a meek wave.

I slowly walked to the electric chair at my former friends' table.

Emory saw me first. His eyes said everything.

"Well, look who's here."

"Hi," I said. Everyone turned.

"Mitch!" Corey shouted. He jumped up to hug me. "It's nice to see you."

"God, it's awesome to see you, kiddo. You've grown like two feet."

"Hardly."

"Is it – is it okay if I join you?"

I knew everyone would be fine with it (hopefully), but I waited for confirmation from Larry. He looked at me earnestly and gestured to the empty chair.

"Cooper said you might come."

"Mitch, this is Don, my partner. I'm not sure if you've met."

I shook Don's hand. "Nice to meet you."

Cooper had casually mentioned this. I was pleased that Emory had found someone again. After losing his partner years ago, he feared he would be alone for the rest of his life. I was glad.

Brad walked up.

"Hey, stranger. What can I get you today?"

"How about cinnamon rolls for the table, and I'll have a dark roast."

"Thanks," everyone said.

Minutes later, everyone was licking icing from their lips as they shoveled glazed decadence in their mouths.

"I'm glad you're here," Brad whispered in my ear before topping off my coffee with regular.

"Thanks," I whispered back, giving him a small smile.

I could tell he knew this was tough for me. But at the same time, it was such a big step, I felt victorious.

Finally, Cooper brought up Layton. "So, this fellow you brought to the party..."

"He was quite the looker," Larry inserted.

"He is handsome. We have ... been seeing each other for two or three weeks. We're new. Nothing amazing."

I showed Emory, Don and Corey a picture.

"Mmm. Yummy," Emory said.

"Emoreeee," Cooper quietly chided under his breath, out of acknowledgement of Corey at the table.

"I'm just talking about my cinnamon roll. That's all." Emory winked at me.

I felt me having a boyfriend made things just a little less awkward. I talked about all the things I liked about Layton to them. I knew Emory would want to ask all sorts of indecent sex questions, but with Corey there, he held off.

I walked up to pay my tab with Brad.

"Congratulations," he said.

"On what?"

"On being brave. I know this wasn't easy. I know these first encounters can be tough. Good for you. Good for you for finding the strength to build bridges."

"Kind of a New Year's resolution thing, I guess."

"It's nice to see you again." He winked at me. "I heard you talking about your new boyfriend. Can I see?"

I showed Brad a picture of Layton. His response was "woof." I smiled.

"You don't ever go to The Black Stallion? He tends bar there."

"When I go dancing, it tends to be Indigo." He sighed. "And those years are behind me somewhat."

"You're still young."

"That's not the whole story."

I felt I now had entered territory he didn't wish to discuss.

I rubbed his arm. "Thanks for being happy to see me."

"I am," he smiled.

My final minutes at Joe were spent listening to Corey tell me about school. He resumed classes the next day. Most kids dreaded the return; he said he was fine with it. I knew he was smart. I knew he would go places one day.

As I stood to leave (I was first), everyone else stood as well. They could have waved. Emory hugged me first.

"It's nice to see you, Mitch. Come back often, okay?"

Don was next. "I can be a hugger too. It was nice to meet you."

Larry stepped up. It could have been a handshake and that would have been understandable. But just like at the Christmas party, he hugged me. It was light at first. I squeezed him tighter, and he reciprocated. That should have been tough; it should have been painful. He was the one that got Cooper after all. But it was caring.

Cooper was next. "Thanks for coming." He kissed me on the cheek.

The final hug was Corey. He smiled big at me. I smiled bigger. "I missed you," he said. "Please come back."

"I will. I promise."

As I pushed in my electric chair (now a cozy beanbag), the walk to the car was much easier than the walk in. I felt proud that I had made a resolution and didn't chicken out.

After my cell phone imported into the car's system, I called Logan.

"Hey, guess what?!"

"What?"

And I spent the next twenty minutes telling him what I had accomplished. He was proud of me.

—

That night, I shared my bravery with Layton. I told him of all the compliments he received when I showed his picture to the coffee group.

He felt it was his turn to cook after I did last week, but we agreed pizza delivery was fine.

We had yet to have an unsatisfactory sex night — other than him falling asleep after his New Year's Eve shift. He fucked me last Thursday. After pizza, I didn't feel like my insides were up for that. He got us both off by rubbing our cocks together, all lubed up. I was quieter this time, in case I saw the same woman on the staircase the next morning. Part of that was accomplished by our lips being melded together for much of the time. We moaned and panted, but there was no screaming.

I loved having a great sex life again.

—

Lorenzo was at the bar where I usually sat on Wednesday nights. I wasn't super close to him, but we both felt like "regulars." Over the past months, I knew a few others by name. Occasionally sports scores, Tom Cruise, Netflix or some other topic would engage me.

"How's your resolution to give up sweets going?" I asked.

"Staying strong, but it is only January 10 so far."

"When I first asked, I was kind of hoping you were going to resolve to come out to your family and coworkers."

"Fat chance. That's not my life."

"It could be."

"You don't know what's it like to be in my shoes, Mitch." He said that with a noticeable tinge of bitterness in his voice. I wasn't sure if it was directed at the cruelty of life or if he felt I was being judgmental.

"Fair enough."

"Why do you care anyway? You and Layton are seeing each other."

"I still would love to see you have the happy life you deserve."

"Hmm. I don't know what I deserve, Mitch."

Carter brought me a beer. He told me Layton was in the back storeroom but would be out in a few minutes. He still gave me odd looks from time to time. I was disappointed my friendship with Carter didn't seem as close as it was before Thanksgiving. I still wasn't sure if he was jealous that I was seeing Layton. He wasn't sharing what he was feeling.

Halfway through my beer, Lorenzo looked straight ahead and said, "Layton's great in bed, isn't he?"

"I think so. We're a good fit."

"He's a good fuck."

Wait. What?

"Wait. What? Have you had sex with Layton?"

"Did you think he was a virgin before you guys started dating a month ago?"

"Well, no. Obviously. But ... but ... but you don't go out with men."

"I'll let them take me to their place. I have been fucked a time or two, you know."

"I suppose."

I found his confession unsettling. But it was silly. I had kept a book of all my former lovers. I knew Layton and Carter had dated years ago. It just felt weird knowing my boyfriend had fucked the bar customer next to me.

"Does that bother you?"

"I'm not sure. I guess no one wants to hear about his boyfriend's former conquests."

"Conquest. Ha. I was pretty damn willing."

"Let's change the subject."

But we didn't. We just sat in silence.

A couple of minutes later, Layton came to the bar carrying two boxes stacked on each other.

"Hey, babe," he said as he walked by.

Layton placed both boxes on the floor behind the bar. He came back to give me a kiss and hug me. I felt like Carter and Lorenzo were watching us. Fuck them. Who cared? Layton and I were hot together.

—

"You're so hot," I said undressing him. In an unusual choice of activities, Layton and I had spent our Thursday night riding bikes. He had borrowed one for me.

"I'm not hot," he countered. "I'm a mess."

"A sexy. Hot. Manly. Mess." My fingers had his shorts pulled down to expose just his briefs. I was down to my underwear too.

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way," he moaned. "It was finally warm. I thought a bike ride sounded nice."

"It was."

"Until it started raining on us."

"There is no way you could have seen that puddle in the dark."

"I am so sorry, babe," he said. "I didn't know it would splash you like that."

"That's no big deal. You wiped out in another when you turned back to look at me."

"Only my ego was hurt," he said, now naked.

He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I was right behind him. As we waited for the water to warm up, he looked me over. I was a bit messy, but mostly it was the rain that had me disheveled. Only a little dirt was on my legs and neck. He had more. As we waited, he reached down to hold my penis, which was not hard.

"You have such a nice cock," he said.

"It's kind of wet at the moment."

"And still long."

I reached for his. "Yours is always good inside me."

We kissed, then stepped inside the shower.

We scrubbed each other with scented gel; the groping and feeling and fondling was enough to make us both erect.

As I pulled on his cock, I asked, "Have you ever been a bottom?"

"Not exactly. In college, I knew I was gay. I figured all gay guys liked to be fucked in the ass. I tried it. It hurt. I hated it. I could smell my ass — uck! I just didn't like it. I quickly learned why there were tops and why there were bottoms. I don't think it is the most sanitary way to express love and passion, but ... hell if I don't like fucking a man."

I got my hands all sudsy again and aimed the spray away from us.

"What are you doing?"

"Just relax. Hold me," I said.

He did. Our dicks pushed into one another.

Gently, I drew my finger back and forth in his crack. I slowly worked some suds near his hole.

"Relax," I softly said, nibbling on his ear. "Just relax."

Mere millimeters of my middle finger pushed inside his sphincter.

"Mitch. Wait."

"Relax," I breathed into his ear.

"I'm ..."

I moved in as far as my knuckle. "How does that feel?"

Layton pondered his answer. "Kind of ... it's ... it's both invasive and sensual."

"That's it," I whispered.

I fucked his hole with my finger for a minute. He alternated between stiffening his body and relaxing and moaning.

"Maybe one day, a different part of my body will be in there." I removed my finger.

"I – I don't know. Just wash that thoroughly."

As we made love several minutes later, I had my legs wide apart, holding them below the knees. Layton fucked me from above. It was a quieter lovemaking session. We hadn't been really loud since New Year's Day. Mild moaning and grunting conveyed our pleasure.

I let the heels of my feet rest on his ass cheeks as his waist thrust forward and back into my willing hole. He leaned in to kiss me hard. I had slowly learned to appreciate his sounds of sexual energy. Layton conveyed when he was close to coming not so much with words but with audible cues. He fucked me hard, and I knew he was about explode inside me.

I pulled his face to mine from the back of his head. As we kissed, his groans into my throat let me know he was filling my insides with cum. He stopped thrusting after a minute, but our lips stayed sealed.

"Lie on your stomach. Let me do something," I instructed.

"Wha-"

"Just do it."

Hesitantly, Layton complied.

I reached for the lube. I straddled his body and made my hard dick slick and shiny.

"Mitch. You know I don't ... particularly after I've come."

"Just trust me."

I squirt another pulse of lube into his crack. He jolted. "Oh!"

"You're fine."

I placed my cock into the crevice of his ass.

"You – you aren't going to fuck me, are you?"

"No. Trust me."

I thrust my cock back and forth through his crack, never penetrating him. Like a saw, I rubbed it through his cheeks. Pushing, sliding.

"How does that feel?"

"Good. Kinda hot."

I lowered my chest to press onto his back. My arms worked underneath him, and I thrust as if I was fucking, even though I wasn't inside him.

I groaned into his ear. And thrust my cock.

I kissed the back of his neck. And thrust my cock.

I got back onto my elbows and thrust my cock. Harder. Faster. Forcefully.

"Mitch. Yeah. Do it."

Thrusting.

Thrusting.

Sliding.

Pushing.

Rubbing.

Thrusting.

"I'm gonna come."

"Do it, man."

"UNGH!! Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh. Ungh."

Layton hummed as he felt my warm cum spurt and drip onto his back.

I kissed the back of his neck. "Was that okay?"

"Very much so. I hope you do it again."

I wiped his back with the towel. He then made sure we cleaned up thoroughly before heading into the living room in our underwear to watch the nightly news.

When we returned to bed forty minutes later, I held him in the darkness.

"Last night, Lorenzo indicated you two had sex before."

He turned to me to face me, even though I could barely see him in the darkness. "That was months ago, babe. Long before we started seeing each other."

"I know."

"It was just once. The sex was fine, but just the way he looked around before getting out of the car, and how he held his head low walking to my place. It was ... weird. He was just paranoid about being seen. He got up at 5 to leave while it was still dark."

"Are you glad you did it?"

"I don't know. He was sort of an animal when we fucked. Really loud. That was fun. But when he left, the whole paranoid aspect of it put me off enough to where I didn't want to do it again."

"Okay."

"Does it bother you?"

"Not necessarily. It's just awkward to think about it when I sit next to him at the bar."

"Lorenzo is not you. He still has to figure out his life. You know what you're doing."

Did I? Wasn't I in therapy just weeks ago? Maybe now I did know what I was doing. But it didn't always feel like it.

—

"So, will we ever meet this Layton?" Emory asked.

"Well, Cooper and Larry did briefly at the office Christmas party. I don't know. Maybe one day. We're still kind of new to subject him to your line of interrogation," I jabbed.

"What interrogation? However, since Corey isn't here this week, we can talk about all the sexual stuff."

"Darling, behave," Don grumbled.

"Darling, hm. I've never pictured you as a darling," I said.

Emory's face scrunched up. "I let him get away with it."

The table laughed.

"I guess we're not going to get the dirty secrets?" Emory persisted.

"No. That's private."

"Exactly," said Cooper. "Leave Mitch alone."

"He does do one thing though." I looked to see if anyone might be sitting too close. "He's very sensual in just feeling dicks. Both his and mine. I mean, hell, every guy feels his dick, but Layton has a way of just touching it so intimately. Gentle, slow strokes. You'd almost think it was the way a blind person learns what someone looks like with just their fingertips. It's really a turn-on for me. We hold each other's dicks a lot, even when we aren't having sex." I looked at all of them, as they listened intently. "There. That's something. I shared a detail."

"And now we're all completely hard," Larry said.

"Totally," Don breathed.

Emory oddly looked to the side.

"I hope you'll bring him one day," Cooper said.

"He works so late on Saturdays." I thought about it some more. "Maybe one day. Or maybe we can have you all over for dinner or something."

"Lovely," said Don.

I changed the subject. "So, Larry. Has it been a big adjustment to be in the new house?"

He looked at Cooper. "No. I love it. Being with Cooper every day is a dream. When Corey is there, it's even better."

"Right," I said.

I wanted to say, "I totally understand what you're saying. I remembered living with Cooper. I remembered fucking Cooper. I remembered enjoying Corey staying with us. I HAD that life." But I didn't.

"Since going into high school, Corey is showing tinges of surly teenager," Cooper said.

"He's a great kid," defended Larry.

"He's growing up so fast," I added.

"How affectionate are you two when Corey is around?" Emory asked.

"Nudity is out, so I'm told," Larry joked.

The table laughed again. Cooper slapped Larry on the arm.

"Still," Cooper interjected. "Corey knows we're in love and we don't hide it. I kiss him just like I did Natalie. In that respect, we act just like any other married couple."

"Have you talked marriage?" Don asked.

"I'm not really the marrying type," Larry said.

"I'd hate for Corey to be teased at school," Cooper said. "I have no idea what he hears just with me being gay. If we were to get married, I'm sure he'd hear all sorts of taunts from classmates."

"Is it really that different?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. Gay is one thing, but marrying a man ..."

"It's the same," Don said. "Kids are more accepting nowadays."

"The world is," Emory said. He didn't add anything to that. He just stared at his coffee. Emory didn't always open up, but I knew there was something more there.

—

I didn't want to sit next to Lorenzo. I saw Pablo at the bar. We had talked a few weeks ago — about IRAs, of all things — so I pulled out the bar stool next to him. I felt Lorenzo noticed I didn't sit in my typical place.

Layton leaned over the counter to kiss me.

"Does your boss mind that we do that?"

"If he's seen it, he's never said anything. Of course, I get comments from the regulars."

"Like what?"

"Typical shit. Stuff like: `Why don't we get service like that?' That kind of thing. Roman said we make a handsome couple."

"Sweet."

"I think we do," he smiled. He stepped away to grab a frozen schooner and poured me a draft.

As Layton waited on other customers, Pablo asked, "How serious are you two?"

"Hmm. We're only a month into this, but ... I'm really liking it. I like him."

"He's handsome, that's for sure."

"Yeah."

"You are too, Mitch. Not that I'm hitting on you."

"Compliment accepted."

Carter gave a side glance to us as he washed glasses. I hated that this jealousy thing wasn't going away. I missed talking to him the way I used to. Carter was a good friend. I realized friends naturally come and go, but ... Carter was a good man. I didn't have enough close friends just to let them slip away. But ... there were always new friends waiting to be found.

Layton and I hadn't been out to someplace nice yet. I felt it was time to do that.

"Hey, babe, how would you feel about dinner at Basil and Chianti tomorrow?" I asked, once I got his attention.

He stared at a bottle of Crown Royal he was wiping off. "Nice. Sure. We can do that. Any particular occasion?"

"No. We've cooked a lot for each other. Maybe it is time we do something nice out together."

"Hey! We rode bikes in a rainstorm and crashed into a mud puddle. What's nicer than that?"

"Well, true. There's that."

"Sounds nice, Mitch."

—

I looked over the large menu the hostess had just handed me. I had stayed rather dressed up from work. The clothes I had placed in my overnight bag in Layton's bedroom were more suited for a casual Friday the next day. He had worn a long-sleeved collared shirt but no tie. It was cold enough that a sport coat really served more as a warm jacket than a fashion accessory. But he looked nice.

He ordered the striped bass picatta. I ordered the rock shrimp paccheri.

Beer was my go-to, but Layton sensed I wanted this evening to be a little fancier. He ordered us a bottle of Chardonnay. We'd see if I was becoming a wine drinker or not.

"I'm glad we did this," I said, smiling across the table.

"Yeah. I'm not regularly a fancy dinner person, but every now and then ... why not?"

"I must say that this year is starting off well."

"It has been nice, hasn't it?"

The server returned to open our bottle of wine. Once he poured each of us a glass and stepped away, we lifted our glasses and quietly clinked them together.

"To us," I said.

He smiled back.

Pablo had asked how serious the two of us were the night before. Was I ready to use the word love yet? It was only a month, but everything about us seemed to work well. I couldn't say my world would fall apart without Layton. Yet. Maybe it wasn't deep love yet, but my feelings were strong. I wondered if he was asking himself the same questions.

It was nice that life was on track again.

"Is the wine okay?" he asked.

"Yes. Would I take it over a beer? No. But I like it just fine."

And I did. I didn't picture me rushing to the store to buy several bottles for my apartment, but I felt I could classify myself as a wine drinker now.

Before our salad arrived, I reached over to hold his hand. I felt pleased that he was able to do so in public. This would have sent Lorenzo running.

"You're okay with public displays of affection. I like that."

"It has never bothered me. I guess because in the environment I work in, it's just ... constant."

"The Black Stallion is a pretty safe space ... for us."

"I don't hide who I am. I can't imagine living like Lorenzo."

"That is sad. But ... who are we to judge? Everyone has their own path to walk."

"I sometimes wonder if him allowing himself to be ... himself at the club is good for him or not. Is it just freedom? Or is it mental turmoil?"

"Let's not talk about him." I squeezed his hand. "Thank you for coming to that Christmas party with me. Who could have imagined it would lead to ... us."

"Yeah."

Our salads arrived. We let go.

Over dinner, I asked about his work. I let him talk about his bosses, other customers, time off, etc.

"I assume you get hit on all the time."

"Mmm. Not all the time. I get propositioned here and there. After a few drinks, some guys get pretty flirty."

"They know a handsome man when they see one."

"Thanks."

"Yet I lucked out. Why me?"

"You're pretty attractive yourself, Mitch. I like your honesty. When you started coming in, Carter and I talked about how open you were. You didn't pretend to be anything you weren't. You were vulnerable and fragile and honest."

"Yeesh."

"No. It's sexy. Honesty is sexy."

"If you say so."

I crunched on lettuce. Layton buttered a slice of bread.

"I don't think Carter likes us dating," I said.

"Don't worry about him. He has his own hangups. He'll get over it."

"Has it affected you two at work?"

"Mmm. Not really. We're like brothers. Maybe a little. When you're there, it is probably the most noticeable. We take care of each other. We work well together."

"Do you split tips evenly?"

"For the most part. If the hours worked are different, it's a slightly different ratio, but we usually work the same shift."

Layton permitted me to talk about work. Financial numbers and IT are very dull topics. I shared details about a few people I was closer with. I told him about Ashley and Tanya and how they looked out for me.

After our dinner plates were cleared, he reached across the table again. We held hands as we finished our wine.

Later in the car, he said, "Well, the bill indicates we should do nights like that sparingly."

I chuckled. "It did come as a surprise, but ..."

"And we didn't even have appetizers. But it was really nice, babe. I'm glad you suggested it."

He went quiet after that, staring out the windshield. I couldn't determine what he was thinking about it.

Back at his apartment, I helped him fold laundry. In addition to what was in the dryer, he had T-shirts spread out on the dining room table.

As we watched the early news, I sat on the couch. He had a throw pillow in my lap and stretched out. My fingers slowly combed through his hair.

"I like that," he said. "I find the sense of touch to be incredibly sexy."

"I've noticed that about you."

He rolled to be on his back, and he looked up at me.

"What else have you noticed?"

"Oh? Well ... you don't eat the crusts on your pizza ..."

"True."

"After sex, you are particularly focused on cleanliness."

"I am? Mmm. I suppose I am. That's not a bad thing, is it?"

I chuckled. "You're hot when you need to be."

"I think that is a compliment, but I'm not sure."

I brushed the hair on his forehead with my hand. He reached for it and brought it to his lips where he gave my fingers a peck.

The weather came on, and he turned back to watch.

When it came time for bed, we went through our normal routine. We had never gone a night with no sex. I figured it would eventually have to happen, but I wasn't planning for this night to be it.

"I want to try something," I said, as we moved into the sheets.

"Oh, do you? Will I like it?"

"I hope so." I rested on an elbow. Can you reach for the ... stuff?"

He rolled and stretched to grab the lube and a hand towel. "Do you want ... objects?"

"I do."

He set them on the top of his nightstand. He pulled out all three plugs.

"I want the third one in me tonight."

"Nice," he said.

"But first, I want the first one in you. I want to play ... with you."

Layton tensed. "Ohhh, Mitch. You know I'm not a bottom."

"I get that. But will you let me just ... explore."

I could tell Layton wasn't sure.

I got on my knees and pulled his underwear off his legs. He was not erect. I wanted to work on that first.

My face pressed into his crotch. My nose rubbed up and down his flopping dick. My tongue licked its underside and then moved down to his loose balls. As I sucked and licked his balls, I could sense his cock moving, getting firm, getting erect.

I licked from the base of his shaft to the head. Like a vacuum, I sucked his hard-on into my mouth. He softly moaned. The final seconds of stiffness took place in my mouth. I let my finger reach down and gently press against the entrance to his hole. I didn't enter; I just lightly massaged it.

My mouth stayed on his cock, but looking over him, I could see the small plug and the lube. My hands crawled for the items while my mouth still sucked on my boyfriend's rod.

For a moment, I sat up and worked at getting the plug slick. Layton opened his eyes to watch me.

"Just relax," I softly said. "You can tell me to stop anytime."

"Okay."

While my fingers were slightly slippery, I let one of them touch his sphincter. Ever-so-gently, I pushed in just to the fingernail.

"Mmph."

That didn't sound pleasurable, but at the same time, it didn't cause him to jump. I wiggled my fingertip just a little. I grabbed the plug and then lowered my mouth back to his cock. Once again, I consumed his flesh. He moaned at that. I positioned the tip of the plug where my finger had been. Very slightly, I pressed the tip of it at Layton's barrier.

I sucked slowly. Long and wet.

With minimal force, I pushed the tip of the plug into his hole. His body resisted, but I went in further. Slowly. I turned the plug in my hand.

"Relax," I breathed.

Layton took a breath, and I pushed more of the plug in.

A light moan escaped him.

"Is it okay?"

"I think." He took another breath. "Keep sucking me."

I was now in full-production mode. With rhythmic timing, I sucked his cock and probed his hole. It was a slender plug, so I knew it couldn't have been painful. He just had to get used to feeling something there. My blowjob, however, was precise.

After a few minutes, I knew he had accepted my desires to play with his butt.

"God, Mitch. That feels nice."

I smiled in my blowjob. My tongue danced with his dick in my mouth, swirling and tap-dancing around his stretched flesh.

"Oh. Ohhhh. Oh yeah. Keep doing that."

Layton's fingers had clutched the hair on my head, as I bobbed up and down on his manhood. His breathing got harder. I pulsed the plug back and forth in him. His hips began to wriggle a little in pleasure. He moaned. He squealed. I sucked harder. I probed faster.

"Ohhhh, God. Yeah. Yeaaaahhhhhhh."

His hand rode my head up and down. With just a touch of pressure, he pushed my face further onto his cock. I was good at taking dicks in my mouth, so I did my best not to choke.

"Fuck, Mitch. God. Oooohhhh yeah."

I loved listening to him moan. Hearing him enjoy it let me know my experiment was successful.

I fucked him harder with the plug.

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah."

I sucked him harder with my mouth.

"Oh yeah. Don't stop. Ohhh. Yeaaaah."

Layton's back began to arch.

"Oh fuck. Mitch. MITCH! You're making me come."

One cum missile after another fired into my mouth. He groaned with each launch. And groaned. The cum had stopped emerging, but his body still pushed, and his groaning didn't stop.

I took my mouth off, letting his penis escape captivity.

"Sooo. Was that okay?"

"God yes."

I kissed him. Our tongues darted into each other's mouth. He was sure to scoop up a bit of his cum.

I reached down to remove the plug. His ass farted when I did so.

"Damn! I'm sorry." He waved the air trying to force the smell away. "This is why I don't like things done to my ass." His head flopped down on the pillow. "Sorry!"

The smell dissipated seconds later.

"I – I didn't expect to come that quickly. That was really good. It brought me off easily. Stimulation two ways and everything."

"Um hm."

"But now I can't fuck you."

"How about you experiment on me then. Perhaps we can make the third plug work."

"Ooo. I'm intrigued."

I slipped the towel below me. "Have your way with me."

I was already hard, bringing my boyfriend off.

He began sucking me, just as I had done to him. He swallowed me for a couple of minutes. He licked my balls, even though they didn't hang like his.

I knew Layton didn't like his fingers inside me. He added a bit of lube to the plug; I could tell he felt it smelled a bit funky. He positioned it at my hole. Then his mouth found my cock again. I was ready to be penetrated as well.

Just as my lover had, I moaned in the pleasure of two-way stimulation.

"Nice," he said.

"Yes."

After a couple of minutes, he put lube on the second one, which usually prepared me for him to push his cock into me. I groaned at being stretched further. My body danced in the sheets, feeling him probe me and suck me and pleasure me. The minutes of sexual service were glorious.

"Ready?" he softly asked.

"I guess. Let's try. Go slow."

"Okay."

As good as everything had felt up to this, the third plug had always been a bit daunting. It had far more diameter than Layton's cock. I watched him lube it up, feeling a slight bit of hesitation.

"Slow," I breathed out.

He sucked just the head of my dick. The tapered tip of the plug pushed in just a little. That was easy. Pushing further, the width matched the previous plug. Slowly, he pushed the widest portion of the plug into my ass.

Ow.

My body jumped.

"Just try. Relax."

I took deep breaths.

"More."

He moved it around.

"Okay. Okay. Yeah."

He probed in and out with the silicon object.

"Fuck me with it."

My ass had accepted the enemy. I growled as it went in and out of me. I snarled sounds that weren't even words.

Layton's mouth found my cock again. He was enjoying rocking my world. Sucking. Fucking.

"This makes me want to fuck you so bad. I'm sorry I can't," he lamented.

"Keep going."

I reached as far as I could to find his cock. It wasn't hard, but it was long enough to still pull and grasp. The more I groaned, the more it stiffened in my grip.

"Ohhhh, man. Layton, it feels so good. Keep fucking me with it.

His cock felt harder. I pulled on it in my building pleasure.

He pulled his mouth off my cock. "Ride it, Bronco."

I wailed. I knew the sensations vibrating through my groin were going to reach critical mass. His mouth began to maul my cock from the outside. Licking its length and then dabbing his tongue like a snake just below the rim of the head. It was all sending bolts of electricity through me.

I gasped for breath. "Fuuuuuuuuckkk."

"Do it babe. I know you're there."

"I am. I am. I am. I am."

His tongue licked my cock harder. I was over the edge.

"UNGH!! Ungh! Gaaah. Ungh. UNGH! Yeah. Ohhh. Ungh."

I enjoyed feeling each burst of cum hit my navel. I realized I had such a death grip on his dick that it probably was uncomfortable. I noticed he was perfectly erect again.

My breathing was so hard, it reminded me of when I had seen sparks with Arlo all those years ago, but ... I didn't see sparks. It was an intense orgasm.

"Wow. Wow," he said. "That was off-the-charts fun. And you made me totally hard again. Not that I could have fucked you and come again, but ... still."

Once we had both relaxed and our breathing had regulated again, Layton was quick to gather the items and carried them to the bathroom. With the effort of a surgeon, he scrubbed the items with soap and tossed the towel in the laundry. His hands were scrubbed next. I just had to take care of my ass — my throbbing ass. My throbbing but satisfied ass.

Back in bed, before turning out the light, he stared into my eyes. "Thanks."

"My pleasure."

"I think the pleasure was for both of us."

Lights out.

—

I enjoyed lunch with Cooper the next day. I told him about dinner but not the intimacy. There was no need to discuss that.

"Has Larry minded me being at coffee on Sundays?"

"No. He's fine. He likes you."

"As much as one can like an ex."

"Mitchell, that was so long ago. We can all be friends."

"I am glad I reached this point, Cooper. It doesn't hurt like it used to."

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I can't say you did. I take blame. I hurt myself. I suffered the consequences of my mistakes. My big mistake."

"I don't ever want you to feel pain. I'm just glad you found someone. I knew you would."

"It is nice."

"Have you gotten to the `I love you" stage yet?"

"No. For a second, I thought he might say it last night. But ... no."

"Do you love him?"

"I'm not sure. My feelings are strong. I love being together. Our sex life is great. I just don't know if I love him or love being with someone again. But we're still new. I'm not sure how long it should take. But I'm getting there, Cooper. I really like him."

"Well, good." He took the last bite of his sandwich. "Maybe we should have you two over for dinner."

"I'd like that. I'm not sure if Larry would."

"Stop worrying about him. Laramie is fine."

I hoped so. I hoped Larry wasn't just being "nice" around me for Cooper's sake. The two of us had reasons to hate each other, me more so than him. But I can't fault Cooper for losing trust in me. I owned that. He's so easy to love; I don't blame Larry for falling for him. I inhaled, and in that second, I was proud of myself for handling all that. Last summer, I was ready to give up on everything.

—

Corey stayed with the men for the second half of each month, so he was back at Sunday morning coffee. The table of friends was ribbing him for a girlfriend he mentioned in choir. It all seemed so innocent. I remembered beginning to question if I'd ever feel anything for a girl. By my junior year, just seeing Nick's cock in P.E. confirmed what I wondered about for a couple of years.

Those teen years were so tough. Figuring things out, anxiety about sex, self-esteem questions — being a teenager sucked. So much change. So much peer pressure.

It's funny, Cooper was so strait-laced until he and I became a couple. I knew Natalie would teach Corey not to have sex until marriage, but I didn't know how Cooper felt anymore. Corey had to know the two of them had sex in the house.

Brad topped off our coffees. "So, when are we going to meet this hunk of yours?" he asked.

"He works so late Saturday nights. But ... I'd like you to meet him. Maybe I'll ask him if he would get up early once just to join us."

The table all agreed they would like to get to know him better.

It had only been a few weeks, but I quickly learned to like Don. He seemed to bring out the best in Emory. Losing Cooper was tough, but I couldn't imagine losing a partner to death. I had never met Gene, but what a devastating loss. It would be inevitable someday. Whatever relationship I would be in ... one of us would go first.

But maybe I'd be alone the rest of my life.

But I wasn't alone now. I had Layton.

—

Lorenzo had motioned me over. I agreed to sit next to him.

Hopefully he wouldn't talk about my sex life, and I'm sure he didn't want me to pressure him into coming out. I wasn't sure what a safe conversation was.

"Still avoiding the sweets?"

"Yeah. It's driving me crazy though."

Carter walked past us.

"Does Carter seem different to you?" I softly asked.

"What do you mean?"

"The nights I'm here, he just seems ... different ... since Layton and I started seeing each other."

"Maybe. A little. You think he still has a thing for Layton?"

"I'm wondering. So, you know they dated?"

"Yeah, but ... wasn't it years ago?"

"It wasn't a million years ago. But ... right. It was some time back. I just feel things being off between us. I'm kind of sad about it."

Carter walked to us, so we got quiet.

"How has your week been?" I asked.

"I've started helping after school with some kids. Basketball for two months until it warms up. Then baseball."

"Do you get paid to do that?" Lorenzo asked.

"Volunteer. I'm helping a friend. HE gets paid."

"And they just let anyone be around kids?" Lorenzo asked.

"You mean a pedophile serial killer like me??"

"I didn't mean THAT. Schools would require background checks."

"And I passed. The program made sure I had no arrests."

"And being gay isn't an issue?" I asked.

"It's not a question on the volunteer form."

"Right."

As we talked, I felt a little of the old Carter come back. He was always easy to talk to in the past.

Layton walked by me on the way to the bathroom. He gave me a quick kiss. Carter walked away.

—

We had been pretty vocal in our lovemaking. Layton had really growled when he came inside me. I wondered if the woman upstairs had heard. I was fairly loud as I slid my cock back and forth through his crack.

I wiped my cum off his back.

As was our routine, we thoroughly cleaned up.

Back in bed, I rolled over to hold him. He left one lamp on. It puzzled me why he left it on, but I was content to hold him.

"By the way," I said. "You know how you sometimes borrow my clothes when you stay over? As much as I find that totally adorable, I have cleared out one drawer in a dresser. I just had old swimsuits in there. Plus, I made about a foot of space in the closet. You can bring things to keep at my place if you want."

"Oh."

That was not the response I was expecting. It almost didn't acknowledge what I had said.

He didn't say any words for over a minute.

"Layton?"

"Hm. I was going to ask you something, but now I'm not sure if I should. I'm thinking."

"Babe? What is it?"

"I'm ... afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Where you are and where I am."

"I don't follow."

"We've been so good together. I like you so much."

"I feel the same."

"But ... I was going to bring up a question tonight." He turned to me. "Where are we on exclusivity?"

"Do you mean do I want to see other people beside you?"

"Kind of."

"Babe. I really like you. A lot. Don't worry. I don't want to see anyone besides you."

He stared at the ceiling. "Hm."

After a long pause, I calmly said, "Or ... did you want to see other people?"

"I don't know. I have an old college friend — an old flame — who has moved back to Jackson Bend and has come into the club and ..."

"Is he hitting on you?"

"Yeah. It's obvious that he wants to sleep with me."

"And ... you want to?"

"I don't know. I wasn't exactly sure where we were in that monogamy kind of realm and ..."

"You want to sleep with him."

"That doesn't change what we have, Mitch. I like this. I like us."

"But you want to sleep with him."

"When you mentioned that whole dresser drawer/closet thing, I got the clear impression you want to take this much further. I'm ... I'm just not sure where I am on that."

I swung my legs off the side of the bed and sat up.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not in the same place, Layton."

"What do you mean? We're great. I LIKE YOU; you like me. We're good together. Nothing has to change."

I slipped on my underwear. I pulled up my jeans.

"Mitch. What are you doing? You aren't leaving, are you?"

"I am."

"Why?!"

"I'm not enough."

I was numb. I expected to hurt, but I didn't. I expected to be angry, but I wasn't. I wasn't anything. I was just not enough.

I slipped my shirt on.

"Stop. Let's talk this out."

"You want to see other people. I want you. You don't want space in my apartment. I was excited to make room for you. We aren't in the same place. I need to go."

"But ... but ... Mitch. I haven't done anything!! I swear, I haven't slept with him. Believe me! I haven't slept with him."

"But you want to. You want to have sex with someone other than me."

"Well ... but ... but ... we're gay. That's not that uncommon."

"You're probably right."

I put on my coat that had been draped over the chair. I reached down to put on my shoes. I didn't even care about the socks. I just stuffed them in my coat pockets.

"Don't go. Mitch, let's talk this out. I like you very much. I want to keep seeing you!"

"And your college friend."

"But..."

"I'm not right for you, Layton. You aren't the one for me. I'm not enough for you. I need to be enough."

"Pleeease, let's talk this through." He whimpered. "I'm sorry. Please, let's talk. I haven't done anything. Please, believe me."

"I believe you." I reached for my overnight bag. "Goodnight, Layton."

I walked out the front door.

I started the car, drove one block and then pulled over. And then I wasn't numb. I felt hurt. I felt angry. I sobbed into the steering wheel.

—

I let my friends talk. I didn't add much to the conversation. I didn't want to bring Layton up. Brad warmed our coffee. Cooper was going on and on about a new account, but I wasn't listening. I was just thinking about ignoring Layton's phone calls and texts for the past two days.

"Mitch?" Don asked.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Uhhh ... I'm not sure."

"What is it?" Cooper asked. "Oh, before I forget, Laramie would like you and Layton to come for dinner Thursday night. I think you said that was his night off."

"It is. But ... we can't."

"Oh, well ... maybe another night a week or two from now."

"No. We're not together anymore. At least I don't think so."

"What??" the table said.

"What happened?" Corey asked.

"It's just that ... I don't know if ... I'm not sure how I ..." I stopped. "He wanted more than me, I guess. I suppose it is my role in life to never find the right person. I'm not going to be enough."

A tear went down my cheek. My friends stared at me with sincere concern.

"God! I just bring everything down. I'm sorry. I – I'm just going to go."

"Mitch," Don said.

I fumbled for a ten in my wallet and slipped it under my mug. I blinked through the tears to make sure it was a ten, but I needed my napkin to wipe my eyes. Humiliated, I stood to leave. I stopped at the creamers to snag one more napkin to take with me.

I reached for the door, but something grabbed my arm. I turned. It was Larry. He had hold of me.

"Don't go. We're your friends. We're here for you. Talk it out with us."

He pulled me back, and I wrapped my arms around him. He held me. I took the napkin and wiped my eyes again. As we let go, I blew snot into the napkin and threw it away. I pulled on a new napkin.

"Come back. We're here. Lean on us."

As I sat down, I just stared at the table. "Well, that was embarrassing."

Corey came to be behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

"What happened, kid?" Emory asked.

"I thought we were great. I had fallen for him. I guess maybe I thought too far into the future. Thursday night he asked me if we were exclusive."

"Oh dear," Don said.

"At first, I thought he was asking me to be in a committed relationship. You know, a vocalized next step. But ..."

"He wanted to sleep with someone else," Larry said.

"Are you sure you want Corey to hear this?" I said, looking at Cooper.

"I'm not a little kid," Corey said behind me. He let go and took his chair. "I'm okay. I just want you to be okay."

"Maybe you can tell me how to do that, champ."

Brad pulled up a chair. "I heard, Sugar. I'm sorry."

"The funny thing is, for a lot of guys, it's the perfect relationship. Having a boyfriend but having the freedom to sleep around." I looked at Corey. "Thank goodness, you're straight, Corey. Gay men can be pricks."

"For the record," Emory started. "There are a lot of douchebag straight guys too."

"I just wanted to find that right person. You know, to be the one that mattered. At least Layton was honest with me. He was upfront. He liked me. He just didn't like me enough."

Cooper clutched my hand. "I'm really sorry, Mitch. The right person is out there. You'll find him."

I looked him in the eyes. "I found him once. And I messed it up. I guess finding love isn't in the cards for me. I have no one else to blame but myself."

"Maybe give Logan a call, huh?" Cooper said.

—

"Dr. Horwood will see you now, Mr. Sanders."

"Welcome back," Logan said.

"Thanks."

"People don't return to sessions to celebrate, so ... I'll just let you talk. I'm here to listen."

For ten minutes, I told Logan my situation with Layton and how it made me feel. He listened well, didn't touch his pad, and asked a few questions that made me search within me.

"What do you tell patients when they feel there is no hope."

"Well, first I gauge that level of depression. You'd tell me if you were contemplating something ... regrettable, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. You'd be my first call. I have no intention of offing myself. Don't worry about that."

"Okay."

"I guess now the challenge is to figure out how to accept being alone."

"You don't have to be alone. I mean, Layton was willing to keep what you guys had going."

"It just feels hollow now. I want to be in love again, Logan!"

"Okay. Just know you can't force it. And it may take time. Do you remember what I told you to tell yourself each night?"

"I'm a human being, and I'm fallible. I can learn from my mistakes and be better. I'm a good person. I'm worthy of being loved."

"Still applies," Logan said.

"Does it? Most gay guys want an open relationship and-"

"Nate and I don't. Haven't you met other gay couples — married couples — that are in committed relationships."

"I've met some at Friendsgiving, yeah."

"There's no masterplan for being gay. You just find the person whose values and ideals align with yours."

"Where?"

"Well, bars may not be the wisest place, but ... you never know. Get involved in other things. Volunteer."

"You sound like Carter."

"See?"

"I don't know, Logan. It just seems harder the older we get."

"You're not old. I'm not old. There are gazillions of gay men who would be happy to love you."

"Huh. I'm questioning if there is even a sliver of one gazillion."

"I never thought being your therapist was a good idea, despite your protests. I'm too close to you. But because I am, I can say I love you and know you are worthy of finding love with the right person out there."

"Everyone keeps telling me I'll find the right person! No one knows who the goddamn man is! Or how I find him!"

"I get that. I do."

I slumped over on Logan's couch.

"God grant me the serenity to change the things I can, accept the things I can't, and the wisdom to know the difference," I softly said to myself.

"So, do you think this will keep you from The Stallion?"

"Tonight, for sure. Yeah. Kind of. I don't know." I looked at Logan intently. "You know, the funny thing is, I was all worked up about seeing Larry — and he's great!! Now I don't know how I will react when I see Layton again. Shit! I don't want to keep avoiding people."

"No one says you have to go that bar."

"I know. But if I wipe that from my life, then I wipe some friends away too."

"If they are close friends, then see them outside the bar. If not, then ... those friends aren't that important."

"I have connected with old friends in the coffee group again."

"Including Cooper and Larry?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not. Look how far I've come since I first started seeing you."

"I'm proud of you."

"For all the good that does me."

"How did you get over Cruz?"

"By falling in love with you."

"And how did you get over me?"

"By ... dating around. I guess. I suppose I always wanted to find someone to love."

"So there. This isn't new. You've come out of this before. You're stronger on the other side."

"I don't feel strong."

"But you know you will get over this."

"It just feels like a hole inside me."

"I understand. It's going to suck ass for a little while. Accept that going in."

"Is suck ass a term in your psychology books?"

"Chapter three."

I laughed. Logan joined me. It felt good.

At the end of the session, Logan reached out to me. "Fuck being professional." He hugged me hard. "I love you, my friend. I'm here for you. In the office, on the phone or over drinks."

—

I wasn't hungry.

I didn't eat dinner after my session with Logan. Actually, dinner was beer.

"This isn't a good look, Sanders," I told myself, staring at the empty bottle on the dining table.

Logan was right. I had my heart broken in my past too many times to count. I'd get over this. Maybe. It did discourage me, though. What if I truly never found the one right person for me. What if Cooper was it, and I fucked it up? What if a person only gets one chance?? What if love was really a lie? What if the common denominator was me? What if I was so flawed I couldn't make something work?

Would an open relationship with Layton be so bad? Maybe having a boyfriend and fucking around could be a good thing? I took the final swig of beer and set the bottle down.

"No."

I didn't want to give up.

I dialed Cruz.

"Hi, Mitch. How are you?"

"Let's not go there. Hi, Cruz. I'm just needing a friendly voice."

"Is everything okay?"

"Not really, but I didn't call to dump on you. I just wanted to ... hear your voice. Tell me how you and your partner are."

"We're great. We're making plans for a summer vacation in Barcelona."

"Tell me all the details."

I had confused Cruz, but he played along. For fifteen minutes, he spoke of all their plans and how happy they were. It renewed my spirit. I was okay just listening. I didn't want to pour my problems on him. He was just a welcome distraction.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell me something?" he asked.

"No. I'm just down. I needed to hear a voice that would bring me up."

"And I did that?"

"You always do. I love you, Cruz."

"I love you too, Mitch. If you need to talk, you can always call."

"Thanks."

I stared into the fridge. I refused to get another beer. I poured a glass of iced tea and munched on a carrot.

Fine.

My cell rang. I looked down.

"Holy shit!"

It was Carter.

"H – hi."

"Hey! I only have a minute. I'm in the bathroom. Are you okay?"

"Why? What do you know?"

"Well, your secret admirer Lorenzo asked-"

"It's not a secret. He wants me in bed."

"Fine. You weren't here. He asked Layton where `his boyfriend' was ... and Layton said, `I don't think we're together anymore.' I wondered why he had been weird the past two nights. What happened? Are you okay?"

"Is he okay?"

"I can't tell. I don't think so. We haven't talked."

"I don't know what to say, Carter. We are just not on the same page. I wanted to find love and he wanted ... more than me."

"Did he say that?"

"He just wanted to know if we were exclusive because ... he was thinking about sleeping with someone else."

"UGHH! Fuck. I'm sorry. Mitch, if you need to talk, you can always call. He's off tomorrow if you want to come in. I'll be here."

"Thanks, but I think I'll be out of pocket for a while."

"Oh." He was quiet. "Yeah. I'm very sorry, Mitch. I am. I'm here, okay? Please don't feel alone."

"Thank you."

—

"I beg you, PLEASE let me call." I stared at Layton's text over and over.

I hadn't gone to the club even if he wasn't there. It was 8:30, and I saw his call come in. I didn't want to answer it, but I didn't have a real reason to keep ignoring him other than I didn't like that he was honest with me.

"Hi," I said with no emotion.

"Oh, thank you for answering. Mitchell, I'm so sorry. I want to tell you so much how sorry I am. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I would never want that."

"Okay."

"I – I – I just didn't know where you stood on relationships and all that."

"Okay."

"But I like you, Mitch. I thought we were great."

"Me too."

"Don't let what I said mess things up. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you."

I didn't respond.

"PLEASE, Mitch. Say something. Talk to me."

"I lost the love of my life and went through therapy because I cheated on Cooper."

"I know that."

"You and I were just starting out, and hearing you wanted to sleep with someone else shattered me. I can't imagine what Cooper felt when he walked in on me screwing another guy. Maybe I'm mad at myself for making him feel so much pain."

"Please don't undo months of counseling. Mitch, you've come so far. Don't let me trigger something."

"Well, the genie's out of the bottle, Layton."

"Can you please, please consider us going back to what we were? Please? I like you so much."

"But not enough."

"Yes, I did. I just didn't know for sure how you felt about ... everything. That's why I was asking."

"You wouldn't have asked if you didn't have any interest."

I could hear Layton sob on his end. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Did you sleep with your friend."

"No." He blew his nose. "After what happened between us, I knew it wouldn't be good."

"I can tell you with all certainty it is not. When I went back to Derek, the guy I cheated with, it couldn't have been emptier. I hated myself further."

"Please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you, Layton. I'm just not the right person for you. More importantly, you're not the right person for me."

"Don't say that. Give us another chance."

"I don't see how."

"Mitch ... were you in love with me?"

"I can't say that. But I can say I was working toward that. I wanted that. I wanted to love somebody, and I thought ... I thought you were terrific, Layton. You just didn't feel the same."

"Nooo. You're awesome."

"Did you want to be in love with me?"

And there was radio silence.

"Layton?"

"I don't know how I feel about all that. I don't know if I have ever been in love."

"I think you'll find no shortage of people to meet your needs. You're good looking, and you're great in bed."

"Mitch."

"Good night, Layton."

"Mitch."

I hung up. I rested my forehead on the flat edge of my phone.

"Fuck," I whispered.

—

My weekend was dull. I didn't go to coffee. Cooper, Emory and Corey texted me to make sure I was okay. I texted them back to let them know I just needed some alone time, but the truth was alone time sucked.

Wednesday night came. I wasn't at the club.

"Just checking on you," Carter's text said.

"Holding up."

Thursday night came. I sat in the parking lot of The Black Stallion for ten minutes. I had scanned the cars to confirm that Layton wasn't there. But what did I really accomplish by going inside?? Still, the thought of going back to my apartment to sit alone again was a discouraging idea.

I did need to volunteer. I did need to do something instead of drinking beer in pity at home.

Somehow drinking beer in pity at The Black Stallion illogically sounded better. I had asked Logan if he could come, but he said he was committed. His advice: "Be careful."

Walking in felt weird. I felt a Layton presence in the atomic structure of everything at the bar. I debated as if this was a mistake.

Lorenzo wasn't there. I knew one person at the bar (casually), but I didn't feel like talking to him.

I sat in my spot.

"Mitch!" Carter gasped. "Hey."

"Hi. I guess it's me and you tonight."

"Yeah. It's me and Darren tonight."

I looked at Darren. I didn't know him, but I recognized him as the third bartender from New Year's Eve.

Carter slid a frosted pilsner in front of me.

"It's on me. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

"Oh, man. I'm sorry. I was worried that you'd get hurt."

"Why did you feel that way?"

"It's what Layton does."

"Meaning?"

"He's a great boyfriend until things should get serious, and then ... he flakes."

"Is that what happened with you?"

"Yep, and the three boyfriends that followed."

"Oh."

"It wasn't my place to say anything, but I worried that he'd do it to you too."

"I take it you got hurt."

"Very much so. That's why I now don't date coworkers or customers. It just makes things weird if or when it doesn't work out. It was hard for the two of us to work the same shift for several months. I finally accepted it and moved on. We got close again, but ... more like buddies, brothers."

"How is he doing?"

"Do you care?"

"Sure. I liked Layton a lot. I was hoping that maybe we could become something. I thought we were great, but ..."

"But then it became too serious."

"Maybe."

"That fancy dinner you guys took, I could tell it threw him. He was nervous the night before."

"No way."

"Yeah. It was a next step. Layton only goes so far."

"And wants to sleep around."

"Possibly. Yeah, he can be tempted. But it usually takes a few weeks. He's a good boyfriend up front. But if it starts to ..." Carter grabbed my arm. "Wait. Were you in love with him?"

"I can't say ... yes. But I feel I was getting there. Neither of us said it."

"Huh! Don't expect him to say it."

"He says he still wants us to have what we had, but I don't think..."

"What you had was `no commitment.' That scares him."

"I guess. I told him I had made space at my apartment for him to leave some clothes and things over there."

"There it is. And how did he react."

"That was right before he asked if were exclusive."

Carter looked at me sincerely. "I'm sorry." He patted my hand. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm actually not sure why I'm here."

"Because you're tired of sitting at home."

"True." I took the last drink from the pilsner. "I'll have one more, and then I'll go. I ... I just need to get out."

"I get it."

Carter tended to other customers. Darren stopped by to introduce himself. I was surrounded by numerous people. Yet I still felt alone.

—

January had come and gone. It had started off so well, and now it was just ... shit. A bright spot was that I reconnected with my coffee friends.

Corey was back at Natalie's, which meant he was at church.

I did like being with the guys. There was a sense of ease that came with Sunday mornings. In the month prior, dates with Layton filled the rest of the day, but now I just enjoyed free time. I honestly didn't care about the upcoming Super Bowl next week. I decided to make use of the time to clean the house.

I dusted.
I straightened.
I washed.
I organized.

Hours later, I felt damn pleased with myself. I may have been alone, but I was alone in a smashing apartment.

Up on the mantel, I saw the stack of Christmas cards. I thumbed through them. I paused at the one from Layton. At the time, my heart just swooned over receiving it. Now, it felt empty. All the things I worried about seeing Larry "for the first time" applied to Layton. Maybe I would never see him again. But that didn't feel good either.

Hurt as I was, I missed him. We were good together.

—

Early February had let me get focused on work again. I wasn't swooning over being a boyfriend, and I wasn't sulking over losing a boyfriend. Work was work. Cooper and I had lunch together at least once a week. That renewed friendship was a real blessing. Somehow, the breakup with Layton overshadowed Cooper and me breaking up. That made no sense, but Cooper and I were true friends again. There was no underlying awkwardness of us ever being former lovers, even though both of us totally realized we had been.

Wednesday afternoon, I heard a rap on my doorframe.

"Hey, stranger."

"Sawyer! Hi! What brings you down from Canada?"

"Checking on progress."

"Wow, it has been almost a year."

"I know. You still look great as ever, Mitchell."

"Flatterer. But thank you. You too."

"Say, I have a business dinner tonight, but I'm free tomorrow night. Would you like to catch dinner together?"

"I'd love that."

It would be a great distraction from my funk.

"I assume your number is the same."

"It is," I said. "Just let me know what your schedule looks like."

"Sounds great."

My spirits were lifted. It was great to see Sawyer.

—

It had been a while since I had Mexican food. Jalisco was more high-end than typical fajitas and chimichangas. Sawyer ordered Orange Roughy Ceviche. I had grilled pork tenderloin with chile ancho sauce and plantains. It was called Lechon Asado. We started with table-side guacamole for an appetizer.

"This is my treat," Sawyer said.

"You don't have to pay," I returned.

"Please. The company gives me a certain per-day allowance. I had McDonald's for lunch."

"Okay then."

That would be kind of nice. Layton and I hadn't eaten out a lot, but my "dating spending" had been higher than non-dating. Logan's sessions took a chunk too. I needed to be more responsible with my spending, but I hadn't been overly crazy.

The server walked away from a bowl of freshly made guac. Sawyer was the first to dip a tortilla chip in the green, creamy appetizer.

"The last time we talked, you said you had been seeing someone for a few months. How's that going?" I asked.

He swallowed and took a drink of ice water. "Good. His name is Jerome. He actually moved in with me at the beginning of the year."

"Congratulations."

"We're good together. He's a wine salesman, believe it or not."

"I've convinced myself I'm a wine drinker now. I'm not sure how true that is."

At those words, our server placed two large margaritas on our table.

"Just not tonight," Sawyer laughed.

"Right. If I'm being honest, beer is still my go-to drink."

We had completely finished off the guacamole by the time our entrees arrived. It alone was filling, but it didn't stop us from dipping chips in salsa.

"God! This is amazing," Sawyer said after his first two bites of his dish. "Great selection of places, Mitch."

"I'm glad you like it. My dinner is good too."

"Well, you've let me do all the talking. What about you? Are you seeing someone?"

"Guh." I took a drink of my margarita. "I had been seeing someone for about a month. I thought he was really great. I thought we were kind of special together."

"But ...?"

"Different places. I wanted a serious committed relationship and he ... wasn't there. At least he was honest."

"I'm sorry. Did you love him?"

"I'm not sure. I was certainly close. I guess the fact that I'm not completely destroyed means I wasn't, but ... it still hurt."

"I see."

The two of us just ate for a few minutes without talking. I felt bad for destroying the mood.

"Mitch, that might make this easier for me."

I looked up at him.

"I wasn't sure what your situation might be, but ... since I know ... I'd love it if you shared my hotel room with me tonight."

My eyes widened and I tried not to choke on my bite of pork. I drank water.

"But ... but you and Jerome are together. I don't understand."

"Yes. We're in love. But each of us never asks about each other's business trips. I suppose it's our `Don't ask, don't tell' kind of thing."

No. I didn't like this. People who loved each other didn't do this. Or was I so off-base that I had become supremely naïve?

"But ... you love him."

"Yes. Yes, I do. But ... we're gay men. We have needs. Gay men think with their dicks."

I did one time. Seeing if I could see those damn sparks with Derek and his doppelganger dick of Arlo's. As much as I supremely loved my time with Sawyer last year — and he's still so fucking handsome — I couldn't do this. I pictured Cooper standing in our doorway, watching me shove my dick up Derek's ass as he leaned back above me. I squished my eyes closed. That's the hardest memory for me to visualize. Painful beyond words. I couldn't be the next Derek.

"Sawyer, I've never met Jerome ... but I can't do that to him. I can just picture him walking in on us."

"He's in Canada. That's impossible."

"It doesn't make a difference."

"But you're single right now."

"YOU'RE NOT!" I lowered my voice. "Sorry. Sawyer, I loved what we had last year. Even though I knew it was temporary, it was what I needed at that time. But ... full confession here, I've had to go see a therapist to deal with my consequences of cheating. I guess it's okay for some gay men — or maybe straight men too — but ... I can't. It's not what ... it's not who I am. I don't want to think with my dick. The one time I did, it destroyed my life. I want to think with my heart."

"Wow."

"I suppose I'm flattered in some small way, and heaven knows you are so infuriatingly handsome, but ... I have to live with myself. I'd hate my decision when I woke up in your hotel the next morning."

"We could fuck and then you could go back to your place," he said in sarcasm.

I threw a chip at him.

The server walked up and was surprised by my action. "Is everything fine, gentlemen?"

We laughed. "It's delicious," Sawyer said.

I nodded. He walked away.

"I'm sorry I misspoke, Mitchell."

"It's okay. I'm just trying to figure out who I'm supposed to be. I seem to be the odd duck in the gay world at the moment."

"Don't say that. If it makes you feel better, I respect you even more."

"Thanks."

"I'll just have to picture you while I take care of myself tonight."

I smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll definitely be thinking of you."

"Compliment taken."

"Does this mean I have to pay for my own dinner now?"

Sawyer howled.

—

We were wrapping up coffee. Things were rather normal for us again. Current events had overtaken my stupid love life as the main focus of conversation.

A text came in. It was Carter. Curious.

Once the group had broken up and hugged each other, I called Carter. "Hey. Your text said you wanted to do lunch today."

"Yeah. Anything simple. How about J.G.'s Hot Chicken — if you're free."

There was something in his voice. It wasn't his normal voice. There was a tinge of what he sounded like when I was dating Layton. Had I done something wrong?

"Yeah. Sure. Okay." I paused. "Is anything wrong?"

"We'll talk then. Is noon okay?"

"All right."

Carter had a knack for throwing me curveballs with random things he said. Maybe something was wrong in his life and he needed a friend. I would certainly want to be there for him. He and Layton had been solid friends to me for the past half year.

Layton. Well, we messed that up. I hadn't seen him in over two weeks now.

Ninety minutes later, I pulled up to J.G. Hot Chicken. Carter's car was there. He was standing in front of the counter. We hugged and then looked at the display board before ordering.

I filled my Sprite at the soda fountain. He used a tea dispenser for unsweetened tea. We had said hardly anything. I was even more worried that something was wrong.

We found a table and set our drinks down.

Carter looked everywhere except at me.

"Is everything okay?"

His hands grasped together almost as if in prayer, and he looked down at the table.

"This isn't easy."

I put my hand on his arm. "Tell me."

Our numbers were called, and we got up to get our flammable chicken strips.

After a few bites, I said, "You're still very quiet."

"Yeah. Give me a minute."

"How's Layton?" I asked, to bring up another topic. But that only made his body language collapse further.

Something was wrong.

"He's okay. He kind of moped around a week. He got his work done. Sort of on auto-pilot."

"Is he mad at me?"

"Heavens, no. But this is Layton. He screws up a relationship and then he blames himself into a depression. I think he is coming out the other side, but I do see him looking at your regular spot on Wednesday nights. He doesn't realize he is doing it."

"Yikes. Maybe I should go in and see him Wednesday night."

"Don't."

Carter stopped talking again and picked up his next chicken finger. His silence made me feel as if I had done something wrong. Was Carter mad at me? Had something happened to Layton?

"You're kind of leaving me hanging here, Carter. What's going on?"

"I just ... I just don't know how to say it."

"Say what? Have I done something?"

"I looked at the calendar, and it made me think. It made me think for a long time."

I didn't understand at all. He then took another bite of chicken, which frustrated me.

"Pleeease. Tell me."

"I don't know how to say this. I'm kind of torn up about doing it, but I need to ask you something. I actually need to ask you two things."

"What? What?"

"Finish eating first."

What the hell? Why? Why couldn't he just say it. I reached for my last piece of chicken. After I swallowed the last bite, I was down to a few fries. I opened my hands to him as if to say, "See?"

Carter took a deep breath. "Mitch, this isn't fair for me to ask. I hate myself for even asking it. I get that it's not fair. Obviously, you can say `no.' I'll understand."

"What is it? What are you talking about?"

"I don't want you to come back to The Black Stallion."

What?!!
Why would he say that?
What had I done?
Why was he mad?
What the hell was going on?"

"I don't understand. Why?"

"I know that is so unfair. I'm sorry. It is. But I have to ask."

"But why?"

"Because I don't date customers."

"I know."

"Mitch ... I'm asking you out. When I saw Wednesday night was Valentine's Day, I figured you'd be all upset after the breakup, and it would be a hard night. I didn't want you to feel that. Mitch, can we go out?"

* * * *

A new post is available at timothylane414stories.blogspot.com Look for a post titled "Layton."

Email: timothylane414@gmail.com