Say Goodbye to Sparkleland

Say Goodbye to Sparkleland Chapter 26

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26

Did I hear that right?

"Carter ... you want to ... to date me?"

"I do," he said, still looking uncomfortable.

"But you don't date customers."

"I know. And I hate asking you to stop coming, but ... I know how I feel. I – I – I want a ... chance."

I was numb. I thought I had done something wrong. I thought he was jealous of me having dated Layton.

"I've weirded you out. I ..." He stopped. "Fuck."

"I just don't ... I've never considered me to be your type."

"And what do you consider my type?"

It was a fair question. Carter had tattoos down his arm. He didn't necessarily seem like a biker or into leather, but I could see him comfortable with all that. I figured he liked rougher men than me. I'm stunned he was interested in me.

"Well. I'm not sure since I've never seen you with anyone, but I figured you like tougher men than me."

"Tough in what way?"

"Uhh ... the sleeveless denim jacket type. Not necessarily bikers, but a ... kind of a rougher crowd than what I belong to."

Carter sighed. "I'm sorry. Maybe it was a bad idea. Don't worry about me."

"You're my friend. Of course, I will care about you. I just don't get ... why me?"

Carter buried his face in his hands. I had never seen him this way. He looked at me through his fingers. Removing his hands, he looked at me earnestly.

"I'm head over heels for you, Mitch."

BLAM! It was a shot I was not expecting.

"Y – you are?" Our eyes remained locked. "I've never got that impression from you."

"Well, you know that I don't date customers, so I've tried to keep my feelings under wraps."

I didn't know what to say. I just continued to listen.

"Remember the first time we ate here?" he asked. I nodded. "I forget why we were joking around, but you sucked on my finger for Layton's benefit. After we left, I thought about that over and over. Strange as it was, I realized how much I liked you. I've been attracted to you for months."

"You acted differently around me when I was dating Layton. I thought you were jealous."

"I was jealous of him dating YOU, not you dating him."

"Wow."

"I know you don't like tattoos and I know you aren't attracted to me, but-"

"You're very attractive, Carter. Yes, I'm not a big fan of tattoos, but that doesn't mean I don't find you attractive."

"Okay. But ... you haven't really answered me. Can we go out?"

I didn't see Carter and me as a match. I loved him as a friend, but I just didn't picture us as a couple. If I told him that, I figured I'd really hurt his feelings. At the same time, how smart was it to lead someone on? I couldn't believe he had feelings for me. I was slightly dazed.

"I don't really know what to say. You know I think the world of you. You're such a good friend, but ... I've already screwed things up with Layton. I'm just wondering how you are picturing all this."

"I don't follow."

"You don't want me to come back to the bar. Let's say we fall madly in love and live happily ever after. The end. BUT ... what if we don't? Am I banned from Stallion forever?"

"Well, I can't ban you. You can come in anytime you want."

"But ... ?"

"I know what you're implying. It's my own rule. It changes things. And I know I'd be risking messing up our friendship. But ..." He paused. He grabbed my hand. "I know what I feel. When things didn't work out with you and Layton, I thought maybe ... maybe ... I'd have a chance."

"What would that do to yours and Layton's friendship?"

"I don't know. I really don't know, Mitch."

"I'm not sure how I feel about all the strings attached, Carter."

"I get it. I do. I do. But I just want one date. Let's see how that goes. One??"

This seemed like an atomic bomb waiting to blow up in our faces. But there was something so powerful in his face; I felt the honest longing to go out with me. His eyes pleaded with a thousand screams.

"Okay."

"You will?!!"

"I will."

Carter lunged for me and put his lips on mine. "Thank you."

"But did you really say Valentine's Day?"

"Yes. It's perfect."

"How so? Isn't that a big night for people in long-term relationships?"

"Let me make it perfect."

"O – okay. If you say so."

"Can I pick you up at your place at 7?"

"All right."

We ate the last of our fries. Carter chewed with the biggest smile on his face. I already worried about hurting him.

We hugged at our cars.

"Thank you, Mitch."

"I'll see you Wednesday."

This was going to be a big mistake.

—

The bartender slid a beer toward me and a glass of white zinfandel to Logan. He introduced himself as Bryce. Avoiding The Black Stallion, Logan and I had decided on drinks at Daniel's.

"Is this a bad idea?" I asked Logan.

"What? Having drinks with me?"

"No! Of course not. Nate doesn't care, does he? He could have come."

"Nope. He's in Charlotte at another conference." Logan took a sip of wine. "But he doesn't care if I have drinks with you." Logan turned to me. "Wait, you aren't asking that because you think I might hit on you, are you?"

"Good grief, no."

"Good. I made such a fool of myself at the Christmas party and the night of drinks the week after."

"No. I'm asking if going out with Carter is a bad idea."

Logan pulled back. "Why? You seem to be putting yourself back out there. Why not?"

"Remember what your dad said?"

"Ugh! It's sad when I have a degree in psychology, and you are remembering advice from my father who you don't even know."

"What he said about people marrying someone they date."

"You are going out on one date, not getting married."

"That was his point. People go out for fun, but they wind up marrying someone they date. Am I ... am I deceiving Carter? What if I have a good time and we like each other?"

"Isn't that the point?"

"But ... I'm not his type and he isn't the type of man I go out with."

"Which is?"

"Business types. I hate to say the term `clean-cut,' but ... yeah, tattoos, all that, it's not me."

"Well, first, the last guy you dated was also a bartender, so there's that. I remember Carter being handsome from New Year's Eve."

"He is, but all the ink down his arm. What if I like him and then have to hurt his feelings saying his body is a turnoff? I don't want to be that shitty of a person."

"Maybe if you like him, it won't turn you off."

"If I had an afro or a manbun, would you have had your brief crush on me in December?"

Logan laughed hysterically. "Well, manbuns are total boner killers, but ... okay, fair point. But you are getting way too far ahead of yourself. Just have fun. Enjoy the date. You don't have to have a second one. You like him right?"

"He's sooooo nice. Both him and Layton were there for me when I was ... well, when I was leaving sessions with you. They're good friends."

"See?"

"But I fucked everything up with Layton. Should I do it with Carter too?"

"I can't answer that question. Only you can."

I flopped my body on the bar. "UCKHH!"

"You guys okay?" Bryce asked.

I sat up. "Fine." I was not convincing at being fine.

"You know after this date I will want a full report."

"As in a session?"

"Let's hope not. I'm fine with it being off the clock."

I was two-thirds the way through my beer. I motioned Bryce for another. Logan shook his head that he was fine.

"Can I ask you a very personal question?" I said to Logan.

"Has anything ever stopped you?"

"Bite me. You may not want to answer this."

"Hmm. Now you have me worried."

Bryce set down my beer. Logan asked for some ice water.

"When Sawyer was in town, he asked me to go to bed with him at his hotel."

"Was this before or after the breakup with Layton."

"After."

"So ... did you?"

"NO! He's living with a man he's supposed to be in love with."

"And your question is ...?"

"Nate. And if you ever travel on business trips. Do you guys stay faithful to each other ... when away?"

"Absolutely."

"You think he'd tell you?"

"Nate and I may be dull — and thanks to you we're fucking like mad again — but we are completely honest with each other."

"How on earth do I have anything to do with your sex life?"

"Well, when I developed that silly crush on you before Christmas, I knew we hadn't worked on our marriage in a while. I was honest with Nate that we had gotten into a rut. Not that we are out ballroom dancing every night, but we have made more time for each other. Our romance has really been kicked up a notch. We realized we had missed that. We're good."

"Well, that's good news. I guess."

"Totally. He trusts me out with drinks with you. I trust him on his trips."

I felt better about gaykind hearing the two of them were monogamous. I didn't find myself super judgmental when people chose their way to live — I was fine with Layton being who he was, disappointed as I was in that it wasn't right for me. But ... damn it, I believed in love. I wanted it to mean something. Cooper said I would eventually find the right one, but what if I will be 55 when it happens? Or maybe I won't. Maybe I will eventually give up and begin fucking and moving on. Was sex more important than love?

—

"Wait. You are going on a first date on Valentine's Day??" Cooper asked.

"Yeah. It's strange. What are you and Larry doing tonight?"

"Staying home with Corey. I told Nat we would stay at home so that she and Daryl could have a romantic night together."

"Aren't you sweet. I love that you and Natalie are in a good place again."

"Indeed. She's a great woman."

"And Corey's a wonderful son. You two have raised a wonderful kid. Did you know that after Layton and I broke up, Corey texted me every few days just to check on me?"

"Did he? Well, that's nice to hear. He's become more of a teenager every day. I thought the baby years would be the hardest, but ... now I just never know if he is going to blow up over the simplest thing."

"His hormones are raging. He's growing. He wants to be independent. Deep down, he loves you."

"And he loves Laramie too. Those two get along so well."

"Good. I'm glad."

I was. I wasn't jealous of that. Corey had always loved me too. I'm glad Larry got the same treatment.

"So where is this Carter taking you?"

"I honestly have no idea. He's just picking me up tonight at 7."

"What's he like?"

"First, he's very nice. He and Layton were good friends when I needed them. He's just an interesting person. He volunteers a lot. He's ... nice."

"And ...?"

"Well, I don't know a lot about him necessarily other than the bar. I don't think he's close to his family."

"Are you attracted to him?"

"I'm not sure."

"How do you not know if you are attracted to someone?"

"He's very fit. His hair is pretty short, particularly on the sides. Dark hair. I think he has a hairy chest. On New Year's Eve, he wasn't wearing his typical white shirt, just a denim vest. He has a trimmed beard and moustache. Nice facial hair. For the most part, he's hot."

"So, what are you not saying?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I know you, Mitch. You've danced around something."

I sighed. "He's got an armful of tattoos. A sleeve tattoo. And I'm just not into that. And I feel kind of guilty going out on a date with someone that I can't see a future with."

"Tattoos are a deal-breaker?"

"I don't know. They're not me. What if I start to like him, and then every time I see his body, I regret that he did that to himself? That's not fair to him. I would feel terrible."

"I don't know what to tell you."

"Other than that, he's great. He strikes me as someone who hangs with a tougher crowd, but I might be assuming. I just don't know."

"But you think he likes you?"

"He's told me that much. He said he's sort of fallen for me. He has a strict rule about not dating customers, and ... he likes me enough that he asked me not to come in when he's working."

"Whoa."

"I know. I just think this is one more link in my chain of failures."

Cooper reached for my arm.

"We weren't a failure, Mitch. I loved you very much. I always will."

"But I ruined it."

"I'm not going to argue with you there. But that doesn't mean we were a failure. I will cherish the great times we shared. I will always remember the things you taught me. You helped me become who I am. Just because things ... went off-track ... please don't think of me or us as a failure. We're just ... think of us as a few chapters in the whole story, okay?"

"Fuck, Cooper. You're so easy to love."

"I'm glad you're back in my life."

"Larry is sweet enough to let me nudge in."

"He likes you."

"Why?"

"For the same reasons I do. You're a good person."

"A good person doesn't cheat on the person they love."

Cooper's face became expressionless. He didn't say anything. I could tell he swallowed hard.

"Good people sometimes make mistakes. You suffered the consequences. We both did, but that doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be human."

"Thank you for forgiving me," I whispered.

"Thank you for being a part of my life again," he softly said back.

We finished our lunch with no further conversation.

After we discarded our trash and washed our containers, we hugged.

"Good luck on your date tonight."

Tanya and Ashley were in the doorway. I knew I would get a long string of questions at some point.

—

I didn't know what to wear. Carter hadn't said what we were doing. I had no idea if he would show up in a T-shirt or a tuxedo.

This was strange.

I didn't feel the need to shower. I had just been in the office all day. I smelled my pits. They seemed fine. And then I worked myself up into such a cyclone of doubt that I turned on the water. I stripped my work clothes and stood before the bathroom mirror naked. Was I fit enough? I hadn't let myself go, had I? I felt my metabolism had been changing in my 30s. I wasn't exercising regularly. I needed to be better. Carter was in much better shape than me. Maybe exercise should have been my New Year's resolution. Not that I couldn't start any time.

As the hot spray hit me, it felt wonderful. I didn't think there was any sweat or grime to wash away, but I cleaned my hair with my most fragrant shampoo and conditioner. I used my favorite shower gel on my chest and crotch. As I worked my bush and genitals into a cloud of scented foam, I wondered if we would have sex later. Was Carter expecting that? It was a first date; we were new. But didn't most gay men want sex immediately?

Cooper used to put me on a pedestal for my knowledge of gay pop culture. After therapy, I didn't seem to have my pulse on gay anything, particularly gay dating norms.

After rubbing and washing my cock, I noticed it was starting to get hard thinking about sex.

Would I like sex with Carter? Did I want sex with Carter? Would I remark on his tattoos? Could I somehow ignore them?

I was going to be a TERRIBLE date.

Feeling overwhelmingly "fresh," I held my best jeans in one hand and some casual slacks in another. Damn. What to wear?

6:41.

I forced a decision. I would wear slacks and dress shoes and a patterned, long-sleeved shirt that looked good without a tie.

6:49.

What would Carter want us to do for a first date? Dinner seemed automatic. But then what? Movie? Techno dancing? Pickleball? Gay orgy? Full House reruns?

"Gah!! How have I become so lousy at this?" My reflection didn't respond.

I'd been out with 22 men. Not that I was counting any more. But that wasn't true. I had engaged in sex with 22 men. Some of that was high school, and several of them were regrettable hookups. Maybe I wasn't as experienced as I thought I was. It was so much easier in college with Cruz and Logan.

"Fuck," I said inaudibly.

Why did I even agree to this date?! We were friends. Friends!! Why screw this up? We weren't a good match. It wasn't going to work.

6:56.

Why was Carter more difficult than Layton? Layton was easier. We clicked organically.

But I liked Carter. I really liked Carter. He was such an awesome friend. Just because he told me he had developed feelings for me shouldn't put me off. That was a compliment. It was flattering.

6:59

My doorbell rang. I took a deep breath. I had no idea how this date would go. I just didn't want to mess up our friendship.

I opened the door. Carter stood before me in a burgundy red sport coat with black lapels, white shirt, black tie, and casual black pants and black shoes. From his wrist dangled a metal bracelet and a thin one woven of braided thread.

I caught my breath. "Wow. You ... look great. I feel underdressed."

One arm was behind him. He brought it around. There was a bouqet of a dozen red roses.

"For you. And you look great."

"I – I've never been given flowers. I don't know what to say."

"I just hope you have a vase to put them in."

"Come in. Let me look."

I didn't have a vase. What did I know about flowers? Cooper and I never had them around.

"Ah. I know I have a wine carafe down here somewhere." I looked through a lower cabinet. "It was leftover from a party I attended. I do believe I took some flowers from a centerpiece in it. I think. Like ... four years ago, if not longer."

"Great."

I found it. I hoped it would be big enough.

Standing at the sink, I turned the water on. "How full do you make it?"

"I believe the stems should be fully submerged. I guess hallway. I've heard sugar in the water helps them last longer."

"Really?" I asked. "How much sugar?"

"I have no idea."

"I'll put a teaspoon in. I'll Google it tomorrow."

After stirring in sugar, I carefully put the roses inside. It was snug, but they all fit, even if it overwhelmed the carafe a bit.

"Nice." I smiled at Carter and motioned him closer. I took out my phone and took a picture of him with it. "What a beautiful gesture. Have you ever given flowers to a man before?"

"No. You're the first."

"Well. Aren't I special." I gazed at them for a moment and felt compelled to smell them. "Would you like for me to put on a tie?"

"I think you look great. Shall we?" Carter motioned to the door.

I slipped into the front seat. Carter drove a metallic red Honda Accord.

"Where are we off to?"

"There will probably be busy wait times at most places. I thought we might give Gracie's Garden a try."

"Oooo. Healthy. Good choice."

"Probably not as romantic as most places."

In less than ten minutes, we found the parking lot to be fairly crowded.

"Hi guys. Two?" The hostess said. She scanned the dining room. "I don't have anyone ahead of you, but I have no tables open. However, I feel it will be less than fifteen minutes. If that."

"That's fine. The name is Carter."

She jotted his name down, and we took a seat in the foyer. There were upholstered chairs, and we took two that were close together.

Carter bounced his leg with a little nervous energy. I gently placed my hand on it. He smiled and stopped. He put his hand on top of mine and left it there.

"Do you eat here often?" I asked.

"Periodically. They have great lunch specials. I feel pretty good about myself with the food options here."

"Yeah. Heavy on vegetables. You aren't vegetarian, are you?"

"Oh no."

Thank heavens. That would be a bigger stumbling block than tattoos.

"Right, right. I've seen you eat meat at our lunches out. Of course."

We sat slightly nervously awaiting Carter's name to be called.

Three minutes later, we were motioned to a table.

"Good evening. I'm Lynette. Can I get you gentleman something from the bar?"

I felt like a beer wasn't appropriate. "A glass of your house white wine?"

"Chardonnay. Fine."

"I'll have iced tea," Carter said.

Great. Now I looked like an alcoholic. Although Carter saw me drink every time I was in Stallion, so ... no big deal.

He ordered the pasta primavera with grilled shrimp. I chose a Cobb salad. I got the impression that he was paying, although I would offer to pay my own way. I'm glad it wasn't an expensive restaurant.

Gracie's Garden specialized in vegetable-rich dishes. The décor was olive-green curtains and tablecloths. A small floral arrangement was on each table. The light was lower than in the daytime, but the restaurant was not dark.

Carter looked at me and oddly smiled. "I see you every week, and now ... I'm almost at a loss for words."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm not `at work.' I'm glad you agreed to come out with me."

"Can I ask why you wanted Valentine's Day to be a first date?"

"Well ... I don't want to dwell on the whole ... Layton ... thing. Following a breakup, plus your sessions on top of that, I just thought the day — and tonight — could be a downer."

"I hadn't given it any thought until you asked me on Sunday. I don't know. I would probably have been fine, but ... yeah. I'd probably sulk about Layton and Cooper and feel kind of lonely."

"And I didn't want you to feel that way."

"So, you came to the rescue."

"Maybe in a small way. I'm glad I didn't scare you off on Sunday."

"You're not scary."

Carter was quiet. The way his eyes looked, it almost seemed like he was debating if he should disagree. I wasn't sure if we would make it to a second date, but if we continued, I could easily see that there were layers to Carter to peel like an onion.

"I did kind of convey that I sort of ..."

"Had a crush on me?"

"I feel a little more than that. But ... I'm prepared to do this right and start at square one and not get ahead of myself. I have really enjoyed your friendship these past months."

"Same here." I took a sip of the wine Lynette had brought. "You usually work Wednesdays; I used to come in on Wednesdays. Why are you off?"

"Valentine's Day is kind of slow for us."

"Really?"

"Dates tend to do something more romantic, and all the single guys who don't hook up by 10 just leave out of disappointment."

"Are you making that up?"

"Nope. Granted the restaurant and bar business is always unpredictable. Stallion could be packed, but in years past, it has been a quieter evening. I rarely ask for time off. Harper had no problem letting me off for the night."

"Did you tell Layton you were taking me out?"

"Nope."

"Are you going to tell him we went out?"

"Nope. Not immediately anyway."

"I see."

The server brought us some bread. We smiled and nodded.

"I love that color of jacket. You really do look sharp."

"I don't get many chances to wear it. I'm glad tonight was such an opportunity."

He smiled at me.

"As you know, I don't date customers from the club. I'm not sure if I've ever told you when you've come in before, but ... you're really handsome, Mitch. I've thought so since the first week you came in."

"My. Thank you." I felt myself blushing just a bit. "I don't always keep the beard after winter. What do you think?"

"You didn't have it last fall. I thought you were good-looking then. Either way. But ... yeah. I like it. You're ... hot. If I can say that."

"I don't resist compliments, so ... yes you can." More wine. "Cooper always liked the beard, and he scolded me when I let it come and go." I paused. "I'm sorry. I won't bring him up."

"It's okay. I get the impression that you two are on better terms. You haven't talked about him much at the bar, but you've mentioned having lunch with him."

"Yeah. I've reconnected with the coffee group on Sunday mornings too. He's a part of that. And Larry."

"And this Larry is okay with that?"

"Seems to be. He's pretty nice. And handsome. And fucking perfect for Cooper." I sighed. "I'm sorry. No more talk about Cooper. But yes. We're good."

"I'm glad. You deserve to have a lot of that weight taken off your shoulders."

I tilted my head and looked at my date. "Carter, it's no secret that I come with a lot of baggage. Why ... why would you want to date me with all that?"

"Everyone has baggage, Mitch. What I love about you is that you are so open about it."

"Layton told me `Honesty is sexy.' Is that what you're getting at? Oops. Sorry, I won't talk about him either."

Carter chuckled. "These people are in your life. Our lives. I can't expect you to totally avoid talking about them."

"I'm just trying to make a good impression. Talking about your exes is a horrible first impression."

"Mitchell." He smiled. "My first impression of you was months ago. You were this handsome man who tried to take responsibility for his actions but was hurting at the same time. I felt your friendliness and your honesty and your vulnerability right away. You're magnetic."

"How? I only ordered beer!"

"Bartenders are pretty good judges of a person's character."

"Hmm."

Our entrees arrived, and we didn't talk as we tasted our dishes for a minute.

"Love. This." Carter gestured to his dish with his fork.

"I'm always pleased with myself when I order a salad. Not that I don't enjoy a good burger at Jake's."

We ate some more and told Lynette that everything was wonderful. My wine was almost gone, so I asked for some ice water.

I looked at the bracelets on Carter's arm. I liked them. I didn't own accessories. Not even a watch.

"Have you always worked at The Stallion?"

"In Jackson Bend, yes."

"Right. You said you were in Chicago for a while. Do you miss it?"

"No." His answer was pointed and was not elaborated on.

We ate some more. It's odd that I didn't know what to talk about outside the bar.

"Has anyone noticed I haven't been in lately?"

"Lorenzo, for sure. He's so horny for you."

I laughed.

"He needs to find someone. All he wants to do is get laid."

"Not everyone has the support system you have, Mitch. Sometimes, it's tough to live the life you want when you're trapped in an environment not of your choosing."

"That's rather profound."

"Pascal asks about you. Joey has noticed you haven't been around. I think a few are too afraid to bring it up with Layton there. A couple of them have talked to me on Thursday nights."

"It's not like I'm a huge regular."

"Still ... a familiar face."

I stabbed at more of my salad, mixing the ingredients as I worked through it. This was a great choice of restaurants. The dining room stayed full the entire time we were enjoying our meals. I noticed there was a continuous wait list of two or three tables. The food was great.

And Carter looked more handsome by the minute.

"On New Year's Eve, you guys didn't wear your white shirts. Did you like that better?"

"Oh, hell no. I went home feeling like I had every inch of my skin covered in beer, sweet-and-sour, bourbon and Coke."

"I know it was exhausting. But ... the money was good."

"Yeah, it was. It was." He looked at me. "But that wasn't the best part of the night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I don't know why you did it, but you kissed me at midnight. You kissed Layton first, but ... yeah. After that, I thought about you until the bar closed for the night."

"Really?"

"I did. I knew then that ... I was ... I was taken with you. I thought about you ... A LOT. I – I just didn't know what to do about it, and, of course, you were dating Layton then. I was jealous that he got you before me."

"But you don't date customers."

He sighed. "Right. And I was trying to hang on to that. It all makes logical sense. But ... Mitch, I had fallen for you. Big. I just tried to keep it together week after week."

His words were all flattering, but it concerned me that he felt this way — so deep, so quickly. I felt behind already.

"Your kiss was surprising, I guess. It ... it was like a spark in making me feel the way I do."

Sparks. Great. They get me in trouble.

"I don't know what to say, Carter."

"I know. I'm sure I am throwing up all kinds of red flags."

"No. I just haven't seen you this way."

"Pretty pathetic, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that. Weren't the words handsome, friendly, honest and vulnerable tossed around earlier in a positive light?"

He stood and walked to my chair. He gave me a small kiss on the lips.

"Thanks for giving me a chance."

"I'm enjoying myself," I said, smiling back.

And I was. When the check arrived, I offered to split it with him, but he insisted I was his date.

Next, we had a cocktail table at Daniel's for a drink.

"You're right. It's kind of dead."

"Look around. You have a cluster of gay guys who aren't in relationships and didn't want to sit alone. Those two girls feel safe in a gay bar, so they are having a night out. Everyone at the bar is single. See? No couples."

"Do we count?"

He smiled and grabbed my hand. "I hope you'll just give me a chance."

I questioned whether we should walk up to the bar, but Bryce saw us and nodded. I assumed that meant he would come over.

"Hi Bryce."

"I'll have a glass of cabernet," Carter ordered. "If it spills on my jacket, who would know?"

"Nice jacket," Bryce said.

"Make it two," I said, going for another glass of wine.

After Bryce walked away, Carter asked, "Do you know him?"

"Logan and I had drinks here Monday night."

"Oh. Wait! Is your therapist still hitting on you?"

I laughed uncontrollably. "No. We're just close friends. He and his husband are just fine."

Carter gave a stern look. "That's good."

A minute later, Bryce returned to our table with our wine. He winked at us in a flirty manner.

We made conversation in what ways we knew how. I don't know why it seemed easier with Layton. Maybe we had the Christmas party to work with, not to mention me stressing out over seeing Larry. As minutes ticked on, we found our groove. I asked Carter about unusual customers, and he told me about a few. He mentioned isolated incidents where police had to be called for intoxicated assholes. He said there was once a protest outside by religious nuts — through the whole gayborhood. I didn't recall that, but he said they tried to stir up controversy for news's sake, but it fell flat.

I talked about my favorite gay movies and gay musical artists. Carter said he was a big music fan, so we found some common interests there. Soon, Bryce brought us a second glass of cabernet.

"It's nice to see an actual couple in here tonight," he smiled.

"Oh," Carter said. I felt he needed to clarify that we were just on a date but weren't a couple. Yet. I didn't mind.

What if we did become a couple? I was enjoying my time with Carter. We loosened up. Dressed as he was, I found him very sensual. I knew he really liked me too. Even if we weren't the perfect match, could I do this for a while? Or does that just make a breakup harder down the line?

He asked me if I liked to cook. I noted a few dishes I was fairly good at, but my skills remained at the simple level. He said he liked to do it, but cooking for one made for lots of leftovers, not that he minded. He said he went to the grocery store to get fresh produce at least twice a week. When the farmer's market opened in the summer, he really liked those days. I asked him to take me once the warmer weather arrived.

I brought up his volunteer work.

"I like it. I feel like I'm doing tiny things to help my community be better."

"Nice. How did you get involved?"

"I looked at notices. I asked around. Plus, you'd be surprised how people at the bar are involved in things. I hear of opportunities."

"I'm sure it makes you feel good. Is that part of why you do it?"

Carter looked down and became quiet.

"Partly," he barely said. "There was a time I needed to feel good about myself."

It was difficult to hear him, but I could just make it out.

"Anything you care to tell me about?"

"Not tonight."

"Okay. That's fine."

Another layer of onion was exposed.

I brought up baseball season and asked if he was a fan. We talked about players for a while. Much of the conversation was about who was cute rather than stats, playoffs, RBIs and careers. Carter was fond of Patrick Wisdom (in full beard). I was always drawn to Mike Tauchman. We both liked Cody Bellinger.

At about 10 o'clock, Carter paid for the tab. It was slightly odd being on the receiving end of a date when it wasn't business-related at all. It felt nice and strange at the same time. I didn't feel emasculated by being the "date," but it did feel like something had been taken away from me. He brought me flowers, paid for dinner and paid for drinks. I would have to assume he expected sex later on.

"Do we have time for one more stop?" he asked, returning from getting his credit card back from Bryce.

"Yeah, I guess." I grabbed his wrist. "I feel bad that you are paying for everything. You don't have to do that."

"Tonight, you are my date, and I want you to feel special." He kissed me.

"You guys are SO hot," one of the girls said. "You make a hot-as-fuck couple."

"Thanks," I said.

"It's just the blazer, that's all," Carter joked.

Back in the car, he turned to me. "If it were summer, I'd be taking a walk with you after getting ice cream. But nothing is open at this time in mid-February. But I do have a nice place where I like to walk. Does that sound okay?"

"Uh. Sure. I'll need my jacket, but it's not too bad tonight."

"No wind." He started the car. "This month has been so dry and warmer than usual."

"I'll take it. I'm not a fan of the snow."

He drove a few blocks to the courthouse.

"Hmm. I figured we'd be going to the lake or something."

"In the summer, the courthouse gardens are beautiful. But even in the winter, they keep them looking nice with what they can. Those cabbage-type things and all. The warm weather has helped in the past couple of weeks."

"It does look good. For February."

We walked slowly around the large gardens. I had seen them filled with beautiful flowers during a couple of summers, but things didn't bring me to the courthouse often.

Carter took my hand. I accepted it.

We walked around to the backside of the courthouse. I thought that was odd. But then I saw a sidewalk that stretched through a canopy of trees, even though they were bare.

"I didn't know this path was back here."

"I love it. It has a few curves and bends to it. The creek joins alongside up ahead. We haven't had much rain, but there's a small, cascading waterfall with the change of elevation."

"I had no idea."

Some benches were near the waterfall that Carter had mentioned. The water only cascaded five or six feet, but the sound was nice. If the creek had more water flowing, I was certain it would be even more peaceful.

Carter sat on one of the benches. "Ooo. They are a bit chilly." He stretched open an arm for me to join him.

I did.

He wrapped his arm around me. "Thank you for coming tonight."

"I've had a good time."

"I'm glad. I really, really like you, Mitch. Completely. I'd like to keep seeing you. I'm not your type, I'm sure. But ... if you give me a chance, I think I can be a wonderful ..." He stopped. "What's a word to use when we're in our 30s? I guess boyfriend still works. Lover sounds too risqué. Partner isn't ... right. Now. So ... I will try to be the best boyfriend I can possibly be if you give me ... give us ... a chance. Maybe?"

"Can I ask what you think my type is?"

"I've seen Cooper. I'm not that."

"When have you ...?"

"Back in the fall. Apparently, he and ... Larry? Laramie? ... had a big fight. He was Larry's emergency contact. I called him to pick him up. I figured out who they were."

"Ah."

"Layton is blond and beautiful. I'm ... I guess a little rougher around the edges. I know you don't like guys with tattoos."

"I wouldn't phrase it that way. I'm not into tattoos. It has nothing to do if I like a person or not." I turned to look at him directly in the eyes. "I've always liked you, Carter. You're very nice. You're a great friend. I'm thrilled that we've ... come to know each other."

"I kind of liked the words you wrote in your Christmas card. I was ... I was crushing on you bigtime."

"Even though you knew I had all my problems? I CHEATED on Cooper. How did you look past that? How can you now?"

"If there is ONE person on this planet that is not perfect, it would be me. I'm so ..." Carter stopped. "I don't need you to be perfect. I just need you to be the Mitchell I know."

Our eyes locked. Our faces moved closer. He closed his eyes, and he kissed me. It was a kiss that meant more than all the others combined. It was not forceful. It was long ... and meaningful.

"I guess before we go any further, I should tell you some things about me," he said.

"Oh?"

Carter took his arm from behind me and clasped his hands in his lap.

"Continuing the `not your type' checklist ... I didn't go to college. I only have a high school diploma."

"So? College isn't for everyone."

"I like to think I'm an intelligent person, but I never went to college. I'm very smart with many things: work, money, responsibility. But ... I don't have a degree."

"I don't care."

"If we became a real couple, I'd never want you to be ashamed of me. I'm embarrassed right now to tell you that."

I took the opportunity to put my arm around him now. I pulled him to me, and Carter put his head on my shoulder.

"Just you holding me like this is ... it's magic," he said.

"Can I ask when your last boyfriend was?"

"Jhace. I guess about eight ... nine months ago."

"No one since?"

"No. He works at the hospital. Our schedules didn't match up at all." He sighed. "Not that yours and mine are a lot better. Jhace and I dated for about four months. I ended it. But when I did, he knew it was for the best. All the points I made were true."

"I'm sorry."

"It is what it is."

"Do you still see him when you volunteer there?"

"Every now and then. We smile and nod to each other. We don't talk a lot. The relationship ended amicably, but ... it was still kind of painful."

"Can I ask a question along those lines?"

He sat up. "Okay."

"My friendship with you is really important to me. I've already messed it up with Layton. I can't do this to both of you ... assuming if we tried this and it didn't work out."

"I understand that. I feel the same. I'd hate for us to not see each other. But I will say this. I'm NOT Layton. If we do this ... if we try ... I won't ever ask to sleep with someone else. If I'm in it. I'm in it. I'm yours, Mitch. If you ever want me, I'm yours."

"That's very sweet."

We stood and resumed our walk. He held my hand again. We were alone on this February night.

I turned Carter's words over in my head. He had given me a lot to think about. I loved that he opened up to me. He was truly a genuine, kind person. I found him hot ... clothed. What would happen once we saw each other naked? Would the tattoos bother me? Would he see it on my face? Would I hurt him? I didn't care that he didn't have a college degree, but would it eventually bother him that I did??

The trail continued to go slightly downhill. Eventually, we ended up in Rebbie Park.

"I've been here. How crazy that I never knew that trail existed."

It was dark, so the park was mostly empty. There were two other people across the big lawn. Evergreens kept a slight sense of green during the winter months when the bulk of the trees were bare.

"I jog here in the summer. One advantage of my job is that late mornings are fairly empty here. Most people are at work."

"I'm sure." I scanned the large open space. "It's a nice city park. I see people with their dogs and guys playing frisbee sometimes."

"I'll bring Fletcher from time to time. He loves being outdoors with me."

The other couple moved on. We had the park to ourselves.

"Looks like we're the only ones here."

"It is probably 40 degrees."

I pulled Carter to me. I held him in my arms. His arms wrapped around me.

"This is warmer," I said.

"It's nice," he softly said into my ear.

It was. But also risky. I was being rather flirty and affectionate with him. That probably gave him the impression that we were going to have sex. I was on the fence. Carter wasn't a random hookup. He was someone I cared about very much. But would going to bed screw up our friendship? As much as we had comfortably relaxed with each other as the date went on, I still wasn't sure if I wanted to have sex with him.

"Carter, why didn't you tell me you had seen Cooper when all that happened?"

"Last fall? I don't know. It took me a while to put the Larry name in place. He said he and his partner had had a terrible fight and that he might have ruined it forever."

"Wow. Do you know what it was over?"

"I don't remember a lot. He went on how he had made a huge mistake. When he finally used the name Cooper, I remembered he said his name was Larry and ... I put it all together. What I didn't know was that he had a few beers in the back room before the band started playing. I wouldn't have served him had I known he had been drinking that long. Then he moved to the other end for another one. He was shitfaced. I took his keys. He wouldn't let me call him a cab, so it was either a ride from someone else or the police. Cooper was his emergency contact."

"And they obviously worked it out."

"For sure. You told me they were moving in together shortly after that. It surprised me because Larry thought he had ruined everything. I didn't see anything to gain by bringing it up. You were still having your sessions." He sighed. "Cooper was incredibly handsome. You two must have really made a good-looking couple."

"The girls at Daniel's thought you and I were hot."

He chuckled. "True. But I can't compare to Cooper."

"In some ways, I'm sure he can't compare to you."

"Hah. But ... thanks."

"I guess it's uphill back to the car."

"It is." He grabbed my hand, and we began the return walk.

We pulled into my apartment complex at about 10:25. The moment of truth had arrived. Carter would be expecting sex. I still wasn't sure, but we'd have to "talk" about certain things first for our first time. IF I decided to do it.

I got out of the car. He turned off the car and got out too.

"I had a wonderful time," I said.

"Me too. Thanks for joining me."

"You are probably right. I imagine at some point I would have slumped into a depressive funk. Thank you for rescuing me from Valentine's Day."

"My pleasure."

"Do you want to come in?"

Well, there. I said it. He would assume that would mean sex. What else would it mean? We had eaten, drank and talked. Getting naked was all that was left.

"You have work in the morning. I'll let you finish your night."

Wait.
He was turning down the opportunity for sex?
Had I screwed up?
When did I make a mistake?
Or had he decided I wasn't the catch he thought I was?
Maybe he found me judgmental.
Maybe he realized I wasn't as attractive as he thought.
Maybe he knew I'd be turned off by the tattoos and he needn't bother.
What was wrong??

"I am so glad we spent time together." He paused. He almost looked sheepish. "We're both off on Sunday. Would you like to do something that day?"

Okay. He wanted a second date. I hadn't somehow mysteriously blown it.

"Sure. The forecast is cold and rainy, I believe."

"I imagine we can come up with something."

Carter gave me a kiss. A deep kiss.

"Good night."

"Good night," I said.

I was lost. The last few minutes buzzed like a beehive in my head. I wasn't sure if I wanted to have sex, and when he didn't seem interested, I was thrown. I wasn't sure if us continuing to go out was a good idea, but I jumped in with both feet regarding Sunday. I wasn't even sure how I felt about Carter. Could I transfer from good friend to boyfriend? I did with Layton, and that derailed.

I waved as he backed out of the parking space.

Once inside the apartment, I appreciated the flowers. I took a final sniff and headed to the bedroom.

After a last pee and brushing my teeth, I stared at the ceiling thinking about Carter. There were a lot of questions that were left unanswered. Layton and I were now distanced. Should I even attempt anything with Carter? Or is it best to leave things as friends?

And why didn't he want to fuck me?

I fondled my cock to where it was hard. I jerked off thinking about Carter, wondering if he was doing the same thing picturing me.

—

"So. How was the date?" Cooper asked. He poked his head in just before lunch.

"It was nice. He was such a gentleman. We had dinner at Gracie's Garden..."

"Nat loves that place."

"We went out for drinks, took a nice walk in Rebbie Park."

"Were you able to get beyond the tattoos?"

"I never saw them. We were fully clothed the entire date."

"Oh."

Cooper looked slightly surprised.

"How was your night?" I asked.

"Well, Corey was with us, but we managed some `romantic time' later on. WHOA! You'll never guess what he asked us."

I was curious. "What?"

"He said he had heard something at school and asked us if gay guys really lick each other's butts." He threw an open palm at me, almost indicating he wanted to know how I would answer that.

"NOOOO! What did you say?"

"I withered into a voiceless weed. Laramie stepped in and gave a ... suitable answer. Bless him. So much for me being a great father."

I laughed; he joined in.

"So, are you and Carter going out again?"

"I agreed to see him on Sunday. We'll see how it goes."

"Good."

"He brought me flowers. Roses. Can you believe it? I don't even have a vase. I'm buying one at lunch."

"Go to Jakob's old store, Visions. They have nice stuff."

I did just that after grabbing a McChicken and fries.

That evening, I took a picture of the vase with his flowers he had given and texted it to Carter. He replied with a heart emoji.

—

"I hear you are seeing someone new," Emory said, once Brad delivered my coffee.

"Sort of. We went out on one date so far on Wednesday night."

I took a sip. It was piping hot. I needed to let it cool a couple of minutes.

"Wait. Wasn't that Valentine's Day?" Don asked. "You had a first date on Valentine's Day?"

"It was kind of sweet. He was afraid I would be all messed up about the breakup with Layton and everything, so ... it was a nice, simple date."

"Tell us about him," Corey said.

"I ... think I'll hold off telling you too much. We don't seem to be the right type for each other, but he's very nice. And he has said he has strong feelings for me, so ... maybe. I don't know. Let me see how things go for a while. Then I'll share."

"Corey, did you have wild, romantic Valentine's Day shenanigans?" Emory asked.

"Nooo," Corey moaned. "I'm not sure how I would feel about shenanigans or what all that includes, but ... Grace moved recently. I'm still kind of bummed."

"Sorry, kiddo," Emory said.

"It's okay. Whatever."

For a few minutes, the group let Corey talk. He spoke of peer pressure at school and what some of the kids were saying or doing. I watched Cooper. So often, kids don't like to share things with their parents or talk about things Corey was experiencing. But in a group, Corey somehow felt more comfortable about sharing. There was the smallest smile on Cooper's face that his son was being honest and open.

It was kind of curious that I didn't want to open up about Carter though. I'd shared so much about Layton. And that blew up. I didn't have huge hopes for Carter and me, so why talk about it. Not that the two of us had much to talk about yet.

But I was looking forward to seeing him later.

—

I knew Carter's address from the Christmas card. My GPS on the phone got me there three minutes early. 11:57.

From the outside, Carter's house looked well maintained. It was a small house, but everything looked sharp. There was no landscaping in February, but I could see several beds and pots that indicated he made the house look nice. The house had a one-car garage. If I had to guess by the looks of it, I'd predict it was built in the 1970s.

"I love the tall trees in the yard," I said, as he opened the door and smiled.

"Me too. Great shade in the summer. Nice color in the fall. The leaves are a drag to rake, but I can handle that two weeks out of the year."

We stepped inside. He kissed me. Suddenly, a dachshund was at my feet barking profusely.

"This is Fletcher."

"Hi, Fletcher," I said, leaning over. "He doesn't bite, right?"

"No. You're new, so he will bark for a few minutes, then you'll be his best friend after that."

He hesitated at first, but then he let me pat his head.

It was all "arf, arf, arf" until we moved out of the doorway.

"How do you find time to garden with all your volunteer work?"

"Well, I have daytime hours free, so I have daylight. Most people are off nights. The volunteering is only an hour or two here and there. I still have free time. Or what I would call free time. I suppose married couples have to dedicate their free time to their kids' soccer games or ballet lessons or whatever. I do a little bit here and there in the yard."

"Nice." I kissed him again. We held each other in our arms for a minute. "How was work last night?"

"Typical. The weekends are picking up again. In January, people pull back a bit because of Christmas expenses. Some people say they are doing `dry January' or cutting back because of New Year's resolutions ... that lasts about two weeks."

I laughed. "True."

"But it was good."

"How's Layton?"

"He's getting along fine. He hasn't gone out with anyone else that I know of."

"Well, that isn't up to me. I called it quits on us. He can do as he pleases. I kind of miss seeing him though."

"I'm sure he misses you too. I appreciate you not coming into the bar. At least for now." He grabbed my hand. "Can I show you the house?"

Room by room, I received a tour. Fletcher slowly followed us into each room, tail wagging. The kitchen and living room were first. There was only one bathroom, which was off the hall. The master bedroom was big enough. In Cooper's house, it would have been considered the size of Corey's room probably. There was a full bed in the guest room, which was smaller. The final room impressed me.

"Wow! Look at this."

One entire wall was completely filled with CDs in slots. He had a nice stereo in the room as well. I could see speakers mounted to all four corners. A desk with his computer was there, as well.

"I don't collect much of anything, but I do like music. Having CDs now seems so old school to people, but I still like playing them. I go to Forever Young and buy used CDs all the time."

"I love it. Do you know how many there are here?"

"Over 1,500, I believe."

"That's amazing."

I scanned the artists. He had them alphabetized.

"How often do you have to re-do all this?"

"Well, if you notice, I have blank spots at the bottom, so I can add new ones without having to re-do the whole wall."

"Smart." I continued to look. "You have very diverse tastes. I've never heard of some of these bands."

"I like eclectic music. Of course, the major artists are there too."

Then it hit me. Carter wasn't like a biker. He was like a guitarist in a heavy metal band. That was the vibe I picked up off him.

"Do you play?"

"No. I don't have any training in playing instruments. I like to sing, I guess."

"This is really cool." I kissed him. "So are you."

I felt Carter blushed slightly.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starved. I didn't have a cinnamon roll at Joe this morning."

That probably didn't make sense to him.

"I thought we'd go out for lunch, and then I would like to fix dinner for us."

"Man! You are spoiling me. But I insist on paying for lunch."

He acquiesced. "Okay." After turning out the lights, he turned to me. "You mentioned Jake's the other night. Want to grab a burger? Or maybe McGee's?"

"Either is fine. Let's do Jake's."

A rumble of thunder followed a flash of lightning. It was clear that it had struck close. Fletcher jumped, then whimpered.

"Let me grab some umbrellas," he said.

Carter leaned over to Fletcher and rubbed his ears. "I know the thunder is scary but be good."

As we made it to the door, we were bid an "arf"-ed farewell.

The rain started pouring as we were halfway to Jake's. He let me out near the door, but I still needed an umbrella for the short walk. He parked and darted to the awning with the other umbrella.

We shook the water off and placed them in a tall planter vase near the door. We agreed to remind each other not to accidentally leave them behind. The way the rain was pouring, they would still probably be necessary on our departure.

We ordered at the counter.

Carter flopped his jacket over the back of the booth. He was wearing a long-sleeve henley T-shirt and black jeans that I thought were just the right amount of "tight." He had the two bracelets on that he wore last week.

"You don't wear those when you work, do you?" I said, pointing to his wrist with a straw.

"Never. The metal one is too in the way when your hands are in ice and dishwater and beer all night. I don't want anything on the threaded one."

"Tell me about it."

"It's from an art fair a few years back. Just sentimental value."

"Okay. So, what makes it sentimental?"

"It's slightly awkward. I try not to talk too much about my past, but ... I was at an art fair here with my ... first boyfriend after moving back and ... it was just special." My eyes told him I wanted more, and I said nothing, hoping he would continue. "It was special because it cost just a few dollars, but it was worth a million bucks to me."

"Whaaat? I don't follow."

"When I came back to Jackson Bend, I ..." Carter stopped. His eyes closed. He almost winced. "I just wanted to feel good about myself. This man bought it for me, and — this sounds so silly — it was the first thing any man had ever bought for me."

"Really?? You didn't have a special someone in Chicago?"

"No." He took a sip of his Diet Coke. "How are the roses holding up?"

The fact that he changed the subject was very noticeable. I wasn't going to push.

"They still look nice. I stare at them every day."

"The vase you chose was very pretty."

"I thought so too."

Our names were called. We went up to the counter to pick up our orders. Jake's had special pickle barrels that were always fun to add to your burgers. Carter went for wasabi pickles; I chose bread-and-butter slices.

We took our first bites.

"What's your family like, Mitch?"

"I've come to realize that I'm lucky."

"Because ...?"

"I know Cooper dreaded seeing his family. You seem distant from yours. Did you see `Signposts?'"

"The play? Yes."

"I've met the gentleman it's based on. A friend of Cooper's. He was kicked out of his house at 17 for being gay. So ... yeah. I'm lucky. Mom and Dad, my grandparents — they love me. They loved Cooper when we were a couple. Even my college boyfriends. They've been extremely supportive."

"Lucky indeed."

"Care to tell me about your family?"

"Hmm. Not much to tell. Dad saw me kiss a boy when I was 16. We hardly talked after that. He didn't yell at me. I was just ... cut off. I don't think he even told Mom. She just knew something was different. I was very out and open with them my senior year. I had a boyfriend. Dad wanted to know nothing about it. He avoided me. Mom sat me down one time telling me: `Your father thinks it's wrong. Maybe you should think hard about doing all this.' Doing. All. This. They never wanted to know how I felt, what I was going through. They just ignored me. Ignored me being gay to be more accurate."

"Tough."

"I didn't feel loved the last years of high school. I started pulling away from them and trying to find out more about the gay community. I met a few guys. Experimented. I was 18 at the time, and Dad told me if I was going to date boys, then I would need to get my own place. A friend and I moved to Chicago just after I turned 19."

"Man. Crazy. So young to just leave home."

"It didn't feel like home."

"So, when's your birthday?"

"It's actually February 29."

"OOOOO!! You're a leap baby. You actually get to celebrate it this year. It's just ... it's next week!"

"Yeah."

"So, are you one of those people who say it is only your eighth or ninth birthday?"

"No! That's so ridiculous. To be honest, February 28th or March 1st would have been so much easier. Growing up, everyone thought it was so cute. Not me. It was just complicated, especially for a kid."

"Do you have plans for it next week?"

"It's a Thursday. I'll be working."

"Hmm." We both ate for a little bit.

A loud pop of thunder made us look at the windows. It was pouring harder.

"What crappy weather," I said.

"How would you feel about a movie this afternoon?"

"I could do that. Sounds appropriate. I don't know what's out now though."

"A few of the Oscar-nominated films are back in release. I was thinking about seeing American Fiction."

"I've ... briefly ... heard about it. I'm game."

He checked show times on his phone.

An hour later, we sat side-by-side in the next-to-back row in the theater. We held hands for much of the movie. We had the armrest between us pulled up. When one of the characters was revealed to be gay, Carter's hand draped over my leg. He didn't touch my crotch, but I was hard regardless.

I liked the film. Carter loved it. Cooper and I used to watch movies all the time. I didn't go to them as much by myself. It was nice to be in a theater.

It was still raining, but the heaviest downpours had moved through during the film. The wind, however, had a bite.

"Gahh!" I screamed, scrambling into the car.

"Horrible. Truly horrible."

We repeated the situation from his driveway to the front door. For some reason, we got the giggles. Once inside, we left the umbrellas open to dry.

"Jeez Louise," I said, laughing.

"Sucky as the weather is, I still had a good time," he said.

"Same here." We gave a simple kiss.

Fletcher scattered to the front of the house. Because I had entered with Carter, I wasn't barked at. He just paced back and forth for a minute.

"I have beer. Want one?"

"Awesome."

He headed into the kitchen. He turned back and said, "Get out of those wet shoes. I have dry socks if you want to borrow."

"I'm fine barefoot. As long as you don't mind."

Two minutes later, he returned with two ice-cold glass bottles of Michelob. We sat on the couch. Fletcher jumped between us and wriggled into Carter.

"This is what you usually order at the bar."

"Of your draft beers, it's my favorite."

"I still feel shitty about asking you not to come in."

"I can go in on Mondays if I feel so compelled. I still feel a little weird about seeing Layton."

"Oh, don't. I think he'd like to see you. He gets the whole thing. I don't think there are any hard feelings. Get back up on the horse."

I smiled. "Funny you say it that way. He sort of had a nickname for me: bronco."

"I think I can picture why."

What he said made me wonder about the two of them, and what their sex life was like when they dated years back. That made me feel weird, but I had no idea why. I had to have assumed they had sex. Not that Carter and I had. Yet.

We had touched, we had kissed, but we hadn't been naked together. Yet. Carter was almost gentlemanly.

I hadn't brought an overnight bag. It would be fine to have sex and then go home. Worst case scenario is that I just got up early to go home to shower. Although, we had not had any conversation leading toward that. Yet. Was it assumed we'd get there?

Or was I getting ahead of myself? Carter had not insinuated anything.

He took off his shoes and socks and set them next to mine. There were times when bare feet were completely sexy to me. This was one of those times.

Carter picked up his dog and sat him at the foot of the couch so that the two of us could be side by side.

I set my beer back on the coffee table and stretched out, placing my head directly in Carter's lap, looking up at him.

The rain picked up.

"I love listening to the rain," I said.

"Yeah. I sleep well in rains like this."

He ran his fingers through my hair, smiling down at me. I closed my eyes hoping he would continue.

He had mentioned sleeping, but it wasn't followed by any invitation to stay over.

We relaxed in silence, just listening to the rain.

His forefinger ran up and down, gently caressing my beard. I was glad that I hadn't shaved it off. I usually kept it all winter.

"I have a stir fry with shrimp planned for dinner. Does that sound okay?"

"It sounds wonderful," I said, leaning into his fingers, hoping he would continue to stroke my jaw. My eyes remained closed, letting all the other senses dominate.

Carter touched me so gently, so sensually. I drifted away in contentment.

Seconds became minutes.

Touching.

My breathing almost became sleep-like.

Touching.

I questioned if my jeans showed a bulge. Innocently, Carter had me hard.

Touching.

With my eyes closed, I reached for his hand. I pressed it against my heart.

"I could look at you like this for hours, Mitch. You're a beautiful man."

"Thank you," I softly said, and I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his fingers.

"Come keep me company while I start dinner?"

"Sure."

I sat up and reached for my beer. I noticed he had finished his.

As I stood, I rearranged my crotch to make it more presentable.

I still wasn't sure if we were having sex later or not.

I sat my beer on the kitchen table and took a seat.

"Can I help?"

"I'm fine. Just keep me company."

For several minutes, I watched Carter maneuver around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients from the fridge and pantry, grabbing pans from the cabinets, washing vegetables in the sink and measuring certain seasonings.

I smiled seeing him concentrate on the work. He glanced over and saw me smiling at him.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just enjoying watching you work."

"Work?"

"You're very focused. I always liked watching you at work."

"Oh re-AL-ly?" he said with sarcastic surprise. "And just what was I like at work?"

"I always liked watching your concentration. Even when you were filling orders, it was like you were always thinking one step ahead."

"Is that so? And just, pray tell, how did you know that," he said, grinning, beginning to peel some vegetables.

"Whatever you did next was so second nature, you did it without thinking. I could tell you already had it figured out before you started."

"Interesting."

"I miss seeing you at work."

"I miss seeing you there too," he softly said. "But that was then. We weren't dating then."

"Cooper's son, Corey, would cook for us on occasion. I watched his expressions too. I could tell by his concentration why he did so well in school. His process was very mathematical."

We continued to make small talk as he resumed preparing. As the dish went further on, Carter started manipulating utensils as if creating a craft cocktail. He was a pro.

I finished my beer and dropped it into a bin that was clearly for recycling. I walked up to him and put my arms around him from behind.

"You make cooking look very sexy," I mumbled, kissing the back of his neck.

"Hm. If you say so."

I gave a strong kiss to his neck. "I say so."

Even from behind him, I could tell he smiled.

"Okay, Sweetie. Let me finish."

I sat down, chuckling. In my entire life, no one had ever called me "Sweetie." Cooper called me "Honey" or even "Darling" every now and then. Did I even look like a sweetie?

Before long, we sat down with a bowl of tomato soup, while the main dish finished simmering. The oven dinged, and he pulled out a baguette and quickly sliced it.

The soup was good, but the entrée smelled heavenly. He took our bowls and rinsed them in the sink. He turned off the gas flame. I buttered a second slice of bread while he plated our dishes. I smiled as he placed a cherry tomato at the side of the dish.

"For presentation."

Carter poured us a glass of Pinot Grigio with dinner. It was not a white wine I was familiar with. I was going to have to learn to like it.

I found the dinner incredible with the first couple of bites.

"Carter, this is fantastic! I'm kind of blown away."

I enjoyed seeing Carter's subtle smiles, particularly when I complimented him. I knew he wanted to please me. He wanted to be a good date. He wanted to be a worthy boyfriend.

Boyfriends. We were only a week into this. We weren't to that point yet. Surprisingly, we were gelling more than I thought we would. Perhaps we were a better fit than I first assumed. Although, we hadn't slept together yet.

Yet.

"Are you into the Oscars?" he asked.

"Not tremendously. I enjoy movies, but ... since I've been on my own, I don't go to them as often. It's more streaming now."

"Would you like to go to an Oscars party with me in a couple of weeks?"

"Um. Sure. I won't be as knowledgeable as you."

"I don't care. I just want you with me. It's March 10 if you are willing to pencil it in."

We kept making future plans. Carter clearly wanted us to last. I could tell he was terribly fond of me. He liked us together. We had only done simple stuff so far. We were great friends. Wonderful friends. Could we be more than that? Or was I just prolonging something that would eventually need to end? But at the moment, fuck it, I was enjoying being with someone.

"I've never been to one. Sounds good."

Music and movies were two hobbies I could relate to, particularly with the gay edge to them. We could have that in common. Even if we broke up, if we stayed friends, we could do those things together.

If we broke up. I hadn't seen Layton in a few weeks now. I should try to repair that friendship. I missed him.

He topped off the wine. Pinot Grigio was growing on me.

As we finished dinner, we both shared our favorite movies and why we liked each of them. A couple of them even overlapped. Ironically, neither of them had anything gay about them.

I helped with dishes. He wrapped up leftovers. It was 7:20.

"I'm sorry that I don't have dessert."

"I'm stuffed," I said. "Again, truly delicious. Thank you."

"I'll cut us up some fresh fruit in a little while."

"Okay."

"Want another beer?"

"Nah. I have to work in the morning. I'm fine."

"I won't keep you up late."

And I had to decipher that. Did that mean I was going home for a good night's sleep? Would we turn in early here — after we fucked? Was that a hint that it was time for me to go? As much as the two of us seemed to be working, we still didn't venture into sexual territory. Affectionate and tender, yes. Naked, no. This wasn't the usual date for me.

We walked back to the living room. He had a gas fireplace and turned it on. It gave off a nice glow, as well as some welcome heat. Perhaps that would help our shoes dry. I looked at the art on his wall. There were two pieces that had a real retro feel. One was of a gas station that had an abstracted, angular approach. It was an exercise in how perspective worked, but the colors looked like 1960s. Another print was a night shot of an old movie theater. I guessed it was in Chicago, but it could have been Hollywood or New York. I didn't know.

Fletcher walked over to the fireplace to nap in front of it.

I stepped back to the couch. As Carter approached, I stretched out and motioned him to recline into my body. He smiled at my suggestion. One of my legs draped off the side. He leaned into me with his head on my shoulder and his feet on the opposite armrest. I wrapped my lowered leg up and around his. We were gently entangled.

"Thanks again, for everything," I softly said. My mouth was so close to his ear, I gently pressed my lips to his temple.

"You bought lunch."

"Oh, Lord. The calories. Thank heavens your dinner was much healthier."

"I'm totally full," he said, sinking further into my body.

My arms wrapped around his chest.

We lay there for several minutes without saying anything. It was probably the longest silence we had shared. I pressed my cheek into the side of his head. He reached up to curl his fingers around one of my hands.

Relaxed.

Content.

Still.

Motionless.

Embraced.

My free hand gently rubbed his chest. Slowly. Softly. My fingertips traced circles in his shirt. I wanted to reach down and slip my hand beneath it. I continued to feel his torso. Slowly. Softly. I lifted my head an inch or two to look down at his crotch. I could tell by a protrusion to the side the exact angle of his hard-on. My fingers began to crawl toward it. I wanted to stroke it through the denim.

His hand was placed on top of mine. He pulled my hand back up to my other one, where he was still holding it.

That was a sign: Don't touch me sexually.

Huh. I didn't know what to think.
He obviously liked me but didn't want me to take it further.
Maybe he didn't have sex anymore.
Maybe something kept him from having sex.
Maybe he was hiding something he didn't want me to see.
Maybe his dick had a Prince Albert, and he didn't want me to know.
Maybe he jerked off before I came over, and he wasn't ready to come again.

I was spiraling.

None of that made any sense. Carter liked me. He wanted me to be his boyfriend.

Sooooo ...?

We held each other again. His bulge didn't recede. In fact, the angle of his cock seemed more defined, trapped below the thick denim. But we rested peacefully.

Finally: "Mitch, I'm sorry if I don't want things to progress as quickly as you probably want. I'm hoping taking things slowly is ... okay?"

"I'm fine."

I kissed his temple again.

Even as still as we were, I could tell from his body language that he felt he was disappointing me. He gripped my fingers reassuring me he cared for me. He ever-so-slightly moved his waist to confirm my own hardness against his back. He knew he was confusing me.

Carter rolled over in my arms and wriggled his arms around me. I leaned up just a bit so that his arm could get behind me. I could still feel his erection pressing into my thigh. He squeezed me tight. His lips pressed into the side of my neck.

Silence.
We held.
We breathed.
Our erections went away.

In our motionless, I noticed the glow of the fireplace. It was perfectly romantic. The only thing that would make it better was if we had no clothes on.

After several minutes, I leaned up and moved to the end of the couch. "Lift your legs."

I was still behind him, but his legs stretched over my lap. I reached for a foot. He bent his knee, and my hands began to massage his toes. He moaned in appreciation. For a few minutes I gave his right foot a tender massage. As I began on the left one, he moaned again. I firmly rubbed each toe, the heel the arch. It was as if making love to a foot.

"Thaaaaaank you," he breathed, as I let go. "That was nice."

I got up. Getting on my knees, I leaned over to kiss him. "You're welcome."

His hand pulled the back of my head, pressing our lips together more firmly. For two or three minutes, we kissed deeply. It took all my strength not to reach down and feel his cock. I knew it was hard. Mine was.

"Let me up, and I'll get us something sweet."

"I think you're kind of sweet," I said.

"Oh, please. That sounds like a pickup line." He gave me a quick peck. "Not that I didn't love it."

His bulge was evident as he started his walk to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, we sat down with a small dish of sliced bananas, strawberries and blueberries.

"The blueberries aren't fresh," he said. "They were frozen."

"Merciful heavens! How my online review will plummet!"

He threw a blueberry at me. I laughed and pulled it from my lap.

We didn't talk as we ate the small dessert. After finishing the fruit, we placed the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Oh!!" I exclaimed, looking out the kitchen window.

Carter turned to see that the rain had turned to snow. "The temperature has dropped even more."

"Ugh." My apartment didn't have covered parking. I knew I would have to scrape the windows in the morning.

"You should probably head home. It won't be bad for a while, but I'll feel better knowing you are home safe." He stared at the shoes, which had been moved close to the fire. "Would you like a pair of dry socks?"

I investigated the footwear. The socks were just lightly damp. It was hardly noticeable.

"I'm fine. It's just the drive home."

I slipped them on. He walked me to the hall closet, where he handed me my coat.

"Thanks for spending the day with me." He pushed his lips to mine.

"My pleasure," I returned.

Suddenly, I was accosted by a farewell of "arf"s barked at me.

"Yes, I'll miss you," I said, leaning down. "You too," I added, winking at Carter.

I put on my coat, and we hugged.

"I know I'm not like the people you probably regularly date. Thanks for your patience," he softly said.

I kissed him again. "We'll make plans on the phone. Let's see how the weather looks tomorrow."

He followed me out to move his car into the garage. He waved as I pulled out of the driveway into the street.

On the drive home, I analyzed the date. It was all great. I enjoyed everything. It was just curious that Carter didn't seem driven for us to have sex. And that was fine. Wasn't it? Was it weird? Were there some gay guys out there who didn't want to hop into bed immediately? Any? Surely there were. But why hadn't I found someone like Carter before?

Back home, I took a picture of the roses to let him know they were still pretty, even if not as fresh as they were a few days ago. I texted it to him.

Before going to bed, I took another picture — a shirtless selfie of me next to the flowers. I texted that one too.

As I plugged my phone into the charging cord next to the bed, a text came in. He sent me a "thumbs up" emoji with an xo.

I masturbated picturing him shirtless ... and naked. I hoped he was picturing me.

—

"I know you are off tonight, but the snow is supposed to get worse. I will probably head straight home after work. I'm sorry," I texted.

"I totally understand. Hugs."

—

Carter and I would either call or text each day. Our opposing schedules made talking on the phone somewhat complicated. Texting was the easiest. It wasn't until Thursday to where we could enjoy lunch together.

Sunday coffee went well. I still didn't bring up Carter. I preferred keeping my personal life private for the time being, particularly with Corey there. Carter and I had the rest of the day to spend together.

Having been in the group again for over a month, I had learned to appreciate Don and his kindness. He was a dear man. Emory was his wonderfully gruff, cynical self, and Larry had begun asking me questions and engaging me in conversations. I could see the sheer love between him and Cooper. While it hurt to a certain degree and always would, I was consoled by how they looked out for each other. The subtle things between them — a glance, a touch of a finger, a term of endearment — it was a love I hoped to find one day.

Brad topped off our coffees. We thanked him. Then he turned directly to me and said just loud enough for me to hear him. "How you doin', Sweetie?"

I smiled. "Wow. That's the second time I have been called that this weekend."

"Ooo, is that a good sign?"

"I think so. We'll see."

Brad winked at me and sauntered off.

A text from Carter came in. "Are we still on for Chinese?"

I confirmed Great Wall at noon.

—

"Sadly, after a week, I had to finally let the roses go," I said, poking at my Kung Pao chicken with chopsticks.

Carter used a fork on his Cashew Chicken.

"At least they lasted a while."

"After we discussed adding sugar, I saw an online tip of pouring in some Sprite. I think they looked better because of that."

He chuckled. "Well, great. I liked giving them to you. You're the first man I ever have."

"And you were the first man to ever give me flowers. I thought about you every day when I saw them."

"I think about you every day too."

"I think about you every night ... if you know what I mean."

He smiled, then his face fell. "I'm disappointing you, aren't I?"

"No. Not at all. You'll let me know when you are ready to take things further."

But I did wonder what he was waiting on. He liked me. He came right out and told me from the beginning. We kissed a lot. What was his hold up on us getting into bed? He seemed to be hiding something. What could it be?

"Okay." Carter didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. There was a trigger of some kind there. He hadn't opened up about it.

Surely, we'd have sex at some point. But what if we didn't? Would I still want to date him? I like sex. I LOVE sex. Is lack of sex a dealbreaker? I'd never encountered that question.

"Thursday is your birthday. I know you are working that night, but ... I'd love to see you. Want to do something?"

"You are working that day, and I'm working that night. I don't see how that would work out."

"I could take Thursday off."

"No. Don't waste a vacation day on me. Those are precious. Hang on to them."

"Hmm. How about I go in during the morning and take a half day off. We could do something fun in the afternoon."

"I hate for you to do that."

"I want to do that." I hooked a chopstick in his bracelet and tugged his wrist toward me. I leaned forward to kiss it. "Please?"

"Okay." He smiled. I released my chopstick captive.

"Does Fletcher do okay alone while you are at work?"

"As far as I know. He sleeps for most of it since it is dark. The winter is easier than summer, I guess. I guess owners have no way of knowing. But he doesn't tear up things or anything while I'm gone."

"Have you ever traveled with him?"

"Yes. But only driving trips."

As we finished our meals, he told me of two trips he had taken with his pet. I told him I had never had a dog growing up. He spoke of shots, doctor's visits, etc. I had never thought of the expense ownership entailed. I couldn't imagine actually having children. One alone would cost a fortune. Several kids ... man, how did people do it?

"So how old will you be?"

"A dweeb would say eight. But ... 32."

"You young thing."

"You can't be that much older."

"I'm not." I took another bite. "I still think it's fun that you were born on February 29. It's cool. It makes you feel special."

"Not necessarily in a good way. Growing up, when your birthday doesn't appear on the calendar, it's kind of ... unsettling."

"Really?"

"Your parents make up all sorts of magical bullshit to make you feel better about it. By my teen years, I was over it."

"Well, I will be glad to be a part of it this year."

"Me too."

We continued eating. I told him about a new account our firm has landed and how it gave me a slight bonus. He told me that Lorenzo asks about me a lot. Carter confirmed he hasn't mentioned to anyone at the bar that we are seeing each other.

As we stood to leave, he stepped close to me. "And ... yes, I think about you every night."

I smiled, picturing him with his cock in his hand knowing he was thinking about me.

At our cars, I asked Carter if Fletcher would be okay if he came over to my place. He said his dog was used to him being away for extended times.

"I'll be home this evening," he said.

Yeah. So, another date with no sex. Not that we couldn't manage it during the afternoon. We decided streaming a movie would be okay. He had not seen Maestro, and it was nominated for an Oscar. As we watched it, there were man-on-man scenes that made it interesting to me. I had my head on a throw pillow in his lap for most of the movie. I liked how he rubbed my arm at times. It felt comforting more than sexual. I didn't get hard. I just loved him touching me.

We both had two beers over the course of the movie. Before heading to lunch, I had made a pitcher of iced tea. I expected it to be chilled by the time dinner rolled around.

Once 5 o'clock arrived, I brought up dinner.

"Well, in contrast to your amazing dinner last week, I have a pasta bake planned. I'll make us a salad. I bought garlic bread. I hope that's good enough."

"It sounds nice, Mitch."

I poured both of us a glass of tea.

"If I do recall, you watched me cook last week and somehow compared it to me being at work."

"Don't try it on me. I'm very focused and detail-oriented at work. When cooking, I'm a bumbling amateur."

"Something tells me you have made this before."

"Oh yes. It's one of my few go-to dishes. My mother taught me to make it when I was a teen when I needed to prepare meals for myself. As I've gotten older, I put other veggies in it. Mushrooms are okay, yes?"

"Yes. I like all vegetables."

I put a pot of boiling water on. I began chopping red onions, green peppers and mushrooms. I set them on a plate to the side. I started browning sausage in a skillet. While that was underway, I squeezed two cloves of garlic in the garlic press.

"I love your facial expressions," Carter said.

"What? When I squeeze garlic? Now you're making me self-conscious."

He laughed. "Don't be. I find everything about you adorable."

I looked at him scornfully. "How can you say that? I cheated on Cooper. Everything about me is not adorable. I made a mess of things with Layton and me too."

"No, you didn't. You were both honest with each other. He couldn't be in a committed relationship and that's what you wanted. You didn't make it a mess. Things just were what they were." He paused. With a lower voice: "I thought therapy allowed you to forgive yourself about Cooper."

"Some. I own it. I accept the consequences. I've moved on. I guess I know it is ... was ... a major flaw in my life. Anytime someone uses words like "everything about you" ... that comes to mind. Sorry. I didn't mean to weird out on your compliment. It was a nice thing to say. Thanks."

Carter stood and stepped forward to hold me. "Everyone has something they aren't proud of. It makes us human. You're human. I understand that."

"Thanks."

We kissed for a moment, and then I turned back to my ingredients.

When I dumped the rigatoni in the water, I placed a brick of cream cheese on the oven top to help soften it. I turned on the oven to preheat. I stirred some of the fresh garlic into a jar of sauce.

"If you want to put on some music, I still have a small assortment of CDs." I nodded my head toward my stereo in the living room.

Carter perused my pitiful collection. He pulled out a greatest hits collection from U2. He easily figured out my sound system. Soon, music was playing from the other room. It wasn't loud in the kitchen.

I stirred the remaining garlic in the cream cheese as it became soft.

"Funny. Until you watched me cook last week, I never thought about such a thing being entertaining. I'm loving watching you prepare this wonderful meal."

"BASIC meal. Don't get your expectations high."

"I kind of like the cream cheese addition."

"Can you grab some mozzarella out of the cheese drawer? And there's a can of Parmesan on the bottom shelf. Yes. A can. It's lame, I know. Sorry."

"Perish forbid for me to criticize the chef."

I smiled. I loved being with Carter. I had so much hesitation a couple of weeks ago. We really clicked. But we hadn't had sex. Would we still click in bed?

I realized with his sweatshirt on that I had never seen his tattoos on any of our dates. Was that coincidental or was it intentional? It was winter. Long sleeves made sense. Or was he hiding them from me?

I layered the dish with pasta on the bottom, then divided the cream cheese and sprinkled Parmesan, then added the sausage, veggies and then topped with sauce and mozzarella. It went into the oven, and I concentrated on a salad.

It wasn't an elaborate salad. In fact, I felt kind of embarrassed that I made it without anything notable at all in the ingredients. It had the elegance of something from Wendy's.

We sat down with that, and I popped the foil bag of garlic bread in the oven.

"So. Where do your parents live?" I asked, making conversation.

"Seattle."

"Oh. That far."

"They moved there five years ago. My grandfather passed away while I was living in Chicago. My grandmother ... Mom's side ... was alone. When her health started to suffer, my parents moved there to take care of her. She passed two years ago, but Dad's career was now there. They stayed."

"Hmm. Do you see them often?"

"No." And he didn't elaborate, nor did his eyes or body language convey that he wanted to discuss it further.

"With or Without You" played in the other room.

The timer dinged. We both stood and rinsed our dishes. I pulled the pasta bake and bread from the oven.

"Can you tear that open?" I asked, pointing to the bread.

"Do you have a cutting board?"

"Lower shelf, where your knees are."

I got out dinner plates and a serving spoon. Carter had the bread nicely sliced and arranged in a row on the cutting board, which he sat on the table. He folded the other half of the loaf in the bag.

We scooped out a large portion of the main course onto our plates. I rolled my eyes at how "unpresentable" it was. Hopefully he didn't judge me too harshly.

After a few bites, he said it was delicious. I felt okay about it. I regretted choosing this dish to make.

We didn't say much as we ate. The music continued to fill the silent space. The song "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" played. Carter looked at me. He didn't break his gaze. He smiled and took a bite, only to look back at me. If I had to wager a guess, I think he was telepathically telling me in response to the song, "I have." Maybe I was just making that all up. But his eyes were saying it. My smile said, "Thank you."

"I'm glad I am seeing you on your birthday. Normally I would hope we could have Monday night to see each other, but that new account I mentioned ...? We have a dinner meeting with them tomorrow. I'm sorry."

"Hey, I'm the one who has to work five nights a week. Far be it from me to complain."

"We'll figure things out eventually."

Would we? Could we? Were we becoming a couple that could never see each other? There were times when I felt this whole relationship — if that's what it was — didn't make any sense. Layton had Thursday nights off, so seeing him every few days was easier. I wanted Carter and me to have a chance, but ... how?? Were we fooling ourselves? Were we hoping for and chasing something that could never work out?

Once leftovers and dishes were tended to, we returned to the couch.

"I have ice cream for later ... if we want."

"I won't stay long," Carter said. "You have work, and I have to make some calls for my volunteer shifts this week."

"Oh."

Zero chance of sex.

For the first time, Carter lay in my lap. My fingers lightly traced his moustache and trimmed beard. They were short, and I liked that. There was just a sheer masculinity to him that was undeniable. He shut his eyes and would slightly turn his face into my touch. I knew he loved it. I glanced at his crotch. He didn't look hard, but I had a lead pipe below the throw pillow.

"Would you like anything for your birthday?"

"A bigger house. Think you can manage that?"

"What!??"

Carter laughed. "No. Please don't get me a thing. If you are taking off part of the day, then that's more than enough."

"Are you sure?"

"Mitchell, c'mon on. We've been seeing each other ... what? Two weeks? Please, no gifts."

"All right, but I like you."

He opened his eyes to look at me. He grabbed my hand and kissed it. "You know how I feel about you."

—

Monday. I thought about Carter all through the business dinner.

—

Tuesday. I had lunch with Tanya and Ashley and asked them what kind of card I should give Carter. I went out that evening and looked through about twenty cards attempting to find the right one. I didn't want to do mushy this soon, but at the same time, I didn't want some lame gag about age. It was hard.

—

Wednesday, Cooper asked me to join him for his AA meeting. That was odd, but I agreed.

I hadn't been to many of his meetings, but as I arrived, I recalled the ones I had attended. He got up to make a share. I recognized a Black woman from Friendsgiving. I remembered her name was Ophelia.

"Hi, I'm Cooper. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Cooper," the group replied.

"Tonight, I have a really nice share. A former boyfriend, partner actually, is with me tonight. Years ago, when I started this program, he was there for me. My marriage was failing ... for appropriate reasons ... and ... Mitch held me together."

I choked on the oxygen in my throat.

"Those of you that know me, know Mitch and I had our ups and downs. While we aren't together anymore, I'm so happy that we have been able to deal with past issues and become good friends again. If I was still drinking, there would be no chance of that being possible. None. I'm so glad that he is in my life. I needed to share that.

"Thank you."

The group clapped.

Cooper returned to the seat next to me.

"Holy cow. Thank you," I whispered.

"I meant it. Sincerely."

"Love you, Cooper," I whispered.

"Love you, Mitch," he whispered back.

He and I had been through so much: his divorce, my helping him come out, our love for each other, my fuckups. How incredible that we have been able to come out of this and be close again. I have Logan to thank for a lot of that. I had put so many demons to rest. At the same time, I had to credit Cooper for being a wonderful man. I'd love him forever, even if we couldn't be `in love.' I'd get up and say all that, but I wasn't an alcoholic.

"I hope that was okay to say," he told me, following the meeting.

"Thank you for asking me to be here to hear you say it. That meant something to me."

"We need to celebrate the good things too."

As I drove home from the meeting, it made me feel good that I didn't long to be in his arms. I thought about being in Carter's arms the next day, and that made me feel good. I had really come a long way in the past year.

—

The greeting on the card was not flowery. A staff member had helped me find a suitable one after I had floundered in finding something I liked. I read it again.

Happy birthday to a wonderful man.
The qualities you have shown me
Speak to the character of the heart
That beats within you.

I am glad you are in my life.

Then I wrote:

I wish you all the best for your birthday.
I'm grateful that life has brought us together.
I hope you realize the gift that you are to me.

And I signed it.

I slipped it in my computer bag.

I texted Carter around 10 o'clock. "Where would you like to go for lunch?"

"Is J.G's okay?"

I called. "Seriously? It's your birthday and you want to go to J.G.'s Hot Chicken??"

"I do."

"That's not special!"

"But it is. It's where I want to go."

"You're insane. But you are the birthday boy, so ... okay. I'll be there around 12:15."

"Sounds good."

"Happy birthday, by the way."

Was he trying to choose an inexpensive place since I was treating? What nonsense. I hadn't seen him in a few days, so I was excited to be with him. The deck was stacked against us, but I knew I was developing strong feelings for him. Knowing I had felt the same for Layton kept me in check though. Carter had said he wanted to take things slowly. Maybe there was some wisdom in that.

He arrived one minute after I pulled into the parking lot. We hugged each other in a long embrace. It was in the mid-50s, so he didn't have a jacket on, just a long-sleeved denim shirt.

"You're sure this is what you want."

"It is."

We ordered and took our food to the table.

"So why here?" I asked.

"You know. When you were teasing Layton by sucking on my finger. It's when I kind of started thinking about you as more than a friend. Not that I did anything about it, but it was the spark that ignited something in me. I know that doesn't make sense, but ... here we are."

Spark. Ick.

"Whatever the birthday boy wants."

Our conversation was typical. He asked about my business dinner earlier in the week. He smiled when I told him I thought about him all through it. I asked about Fletcher. He told me about a guy who wiped out on the dance floor the night before and had to be taken off in an ambulance for bumping his head.

Carter finished his last chicken finger. He reached for a napkin, but I grabbed his wrist and — in slow motion — stuck my tongue out and moved his finger and thumb across it.

He laughed. "You're crazy. As hot as we think that is, it's probably pretty gross. And that table over there watched you do it."

I turned to see a table of people staring. I was confident my face was red. Carter had a huge smile, so that made it worth it.

We discarded our trash and placed our trays on top of the trash receptacles. We both went into the bathroom to thoroughly wash our hands.

"Thanks for lunch," he said, smiling at our reflections.

"My pleasure."

Outside, he said, "Swing by my place?"

"Sure."

Because I walked in with Carter, Fletcher only gave me one bark. I scratched him behind the ears.

"I'm going to check mail. Help yourself to anything in the fridge."

I saw two cards on the counter. I pulled out mine and set it alongside them. One was from Mr. and Mrs. Darren Robinson. It was either his parents or grandparents. Another was from someone named Ryan.

He came in with a bill and another card. "It's from my parents."

He opened it and read it. His face had no expression. He noticed the other card.

"Did you put this here?"

"I did."

He smiled and opened it. He read the words over and over. Finally, he held it to his chest. "Thank you."

He hugged me and kissed me. Fletcher watched.

As he got himself something to drink, I used a finger to lift and open the card from his parents. It was a simple "joke" card. It was signed simply Mom and Dad, written in one person's handwriting. There were no other words written.

I poured myself a glass of iced tea. There was just the slightest tinge of heat to the inside of my mouth leftover from the hot chicken. A brisk, chilled beverage sounded nice. I took a big gulp. Fletcher watched.

We carried beverages into his living room. Carter kicked his shoes off under the coffee table.

"I'm so glad it is starting to warm up. I'm over winter, that's for sure," I said. I then kicked off my shoes and put them next to Carter's. Fletcher watched. He sniffed my shoes.

Putting my hands on his shoulders, I leaned down to get as close to his face as I could while maintaining my balance. "So, what does the birthday boy wish to do today?"

"I want us to make love."

I stood upright. "Oh." I sat next to him. "Oh." We leaned in to kiss. And kiss again. "Ohhh."

"Is that okay?"

"I've pictured being naked with you for two weeks. Yeah, that's okay."

"I appreciate your patience."

"Did you ... did you want to do that ... now? Or after we do something else."

"I have no desire to do anything else but show you how much you mean to me. That's your gift to me."

"This – this is all touching and sweet and heartfelt, but ..."

"You want to wait?"

"No. I'm just hoping you have some mouthwash to get `hot damn' out of my mouth."

Carter roared with laughter. "That I can handle."

We stood. We walked to the bathroom. There was no cup, so we both used the lid to swish some Scope around our mouths. I wished I had a toothbrush, but this was a major improvement. Fletcher watched.

Carter seemed slightly nervous to me. Maybe I just didn't know his pre-sex routines, but he didn't seem natural.

In his bedroom, he turned on a lamp. He then walked to the window and lowered a blind. It wasn't as dark as Layton's room, but it blocked out a considerable amount of daylight. He opened the door below his nightstand and pulled out a candle.

"I love it when men have candles," I observed.

"Me too." He lit it, his hand just slightly shaking. "The lighting is so soft. It's just right."

He turned off the lamp. The room was by no means dark, but it was dim. Our eyes would eventually adjust, but for the moment, the mood was set.

We walked up to each other. We held each other's shoulders and kissed. We wrapped our arms around each other and kissed. We squeezed each other and kissed. The embrace was hard and long and forceful like we had never done. Our tongues touched.

Carter's fingertips slipped into my jeans, inside my boxers. Gently he felt the top of my ass. I used both my hands to grip his butt and press his crotch firmly into mine. I was hard. I wanted his cock to feel it. I felt his firmness as well.

My fingers reached up to start unbuttoning his shirt. He did the same, but I could tell his fingers were trembling. Why was he nervous?

Our noses rubbed against the other, but we didn't kiss. "I want you so bad," I breathed.

"Oh, me too."

He pressed his forehead to mine and slipped the shirt off my shoulders. I let it drop to the floor. I lifted the soft cloth of his shirt from his shoulders and moved it back. My hands opened it up completely to make it fall. I felt my hand scrape against something. I looked down.

"Oh. You have a nipple piercing."

"Yeah." He sighed. "I'm surprised you hadn't noticed. But I wasn't sure if you knew."

"I guess the shirts you wear don't really show it. Or I just haven't paid attention."

"Our work shirts are thick; my other clothes are often loose."

"Ah."

"You don't like it, do you? I figured you wouldn't." Carter sounded sad.

I looked at the gold barbell penetrating his nipple. "I can't say they do anything for me, but ... I wouldn't say I did or didn't like it."

That was a lie. I was being nice. I didn't care for it. But it was his body, his choice.

We were momentarily distracted. I tried to get us back on track.

Feeling the hair on his chest, I moved my mouth close to his ear. "Your chest is hot," I whispered. I continued to feel and appreciate it.

Carter did the same, feeling my chest hair. His thumbs rubbed circles into my nipples.

We felt. Fletcher watched.

My fingers moved to the button on his jeans. I released it. My fingertips manipulated the zipper, slowly moving it down. In doing so, my knuckles could detect the hard pole contained within. I pulled the fly open and maneuvered the black denim over his hips. They fell to the floor. Carter stepped out of them and stood before me in skimpy designer briefs and short socks.

"You have a nice body," I softly said.

"Thank you."

Carter did the same for me, dropping my boxers along with my jeans, although the boner I was wielding caused him to work around it. I slipped off my socks. I was one hundred percent exposed to him. All of me. My cock was the Washington Monument. He didn't touch it. He just looked at me.

`You're beautiful." He kissed me hard.

As we kissed, I rubbed his cock through the stretched fabric of his briefs. They were so tight; I could see the contour of his erection. Not that I was looking; I was feeling. We kissed and kissed. I rubbed. Fletcher watched.

As I rubbed his briefs, I could feel a small wet spot. Pre-cum. What do you know.

Uttering a small grunt, I pulled his briefs down, over his cock. I thought it made me sound manly, but then I was embarrassed as it sounded like a weak attempt at caveman.

Carter crawled onto the bed. Fletcher jumped up using a carpeted block at the foot of the bed to make it easy for him to climb. I started to move onto the bed next. Fletcher barked in protest.

"Hey! Fletcher! NO!" Carter scolded.

Fletcher paced back and forth. Finally, Carter lifted him off the bed and set him on the floor.

"Sorry."

I smiled. "He loves you. He's protecting you from me."

"I don't need protection. I need all of you."

We had all afternoon. We weren't in a rush. Our hands appreciated feeling every inch of the male body. We kissed and mauled and groped and touched.

I felt wetness on my leg. Both of us leaked onto each other from our steel cocks. I felt his balls; they were tight like mine.

"What would you like?" I breathlessly asked.

"I want you inside me. I need you to fuck me," he answered.

"Okay. Wow. Nice."

I hadn't been the fuck-er in a long time. Layton had insisted on being the top.

"But first," Carter said. "I need to taste that huge cock."

He didn't waste any time. He moved down to move his mouth onto my raging dick. I growled feeling the pleasure of being swallowed.

My fingers rubbed his short hair as he bobbed his head over my crotch.

Carter sucked me for a few minutes. I loved every second of it. It was feeling glorious, but I didn't want him to take me too far.

"My turn. Come up here."

My lover straddled me and moved his knees up to my armpits, sticking his cock in my face. He guided it into my open mouth, and I feasted on his manhood.

Carter wasn't loud, but continual. Soft moans with each thrust let me know he was enjoying it.

"Miiiiiiitch. That feels soooooo gooood."

He fucked my face for several minutes. As he did so, I massaged his ass from underneath. A finger toyed with his hole. I teased his entrance, and pushed the fingertip in. I knew I needed — wanted! — lube.

He pulled from me. He exhaled deeply indicating he enjoyed my oral service.

"Carter, we ... we haven't really talked about ... things. I didn't come prepared."

"I have everything we need."

His body moved to lean over to the nightstand drawer. He pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom. He flapped the condom for me to see and then flung it at me.

I moved the covers fully down. Fletcher barked at me from the floor. I scratched him behind the ears, which appeased him for the moment.

I wasn't in a race. I lowered my body on top of Carter's. I kissed him firmly, and his fingers gently scratched my back. We both leaked more onto each other's bellies. Our kisses became sloppy, tongue-filled sucking.

"Fuck me," he pleaded. "But!"

I looked at him sharply.

"I want to put the condom on you," he said. "I like doing that."

I tore open the package and let the circular latex fall to the sheets. Carter picked it up and placed it on the tip of my erection. Slowly, it was unrolled onto my shaft.

"You're so big," he whispered.

"I'm not that big."

"Longer than me."

"I kind of love your cock. It's all male."

I had stopped keeping the stats I once did for the black book. I was probably an inch longer than Carter, but he was still sporting six inches. I lubed up my condom-covered hard-on and then placed a finger in his hole. I roamed inside him briefly. I squirted another drop onto two fingers. They easily went inside. Carter was ready for me. I set the bottle on the nightstand.

Scrambling to be in the right position, I moved my body above him with elbows and knees in the right place. Carter spread his legs wide. He opened himself up to me.

I pushed the head of my cock inside him. I let him breathe. Then gradually, every inch of my cock forged inside him.

"Unghhh!" he called out.

Fletcher barked from the floor. We both smiled.

I withdrew and pushed back in. Holding my body weight on my elbows, I lowered to kiss him. And kiss him and kiss him as his body adjusted to my flesh being within him.

"Fuck me, Sweetie."

I snorted and then pushed my cock in and out further.

Finally. We were fucking.

Our eyes had adjusted to the low lighting. I could see Carter's face clearly. His beautiful face.

Our eyes said everything.

Readiness.

Gratefulness.

Pleasure.

Sensuality.

Respect.

At last.

"Mitch," Carter breathed. He continued to pant my name as we fucked.

His fingers roamed my chest as it rose and lowered.

"Fuck me," he mouthed, almost inaudibly.

Carter made love quietly — at least he was this time. It was much like I preferred in years past. The sheer connection between us was conveyed in his eyes. I had never seen anything like it before, not even with Cooper.

His eyes thanked me, pleaded with me, groaned for me, appreciated me. It was a telepathic link I couldn't explain. His brown eyes had flecks of gold that had a flickering glint in the candlelight. They were sparks. Carter had his own sparks in his own way.

We were mesmerized in our gaze.

My hips continued to thrust. I moaned quietly. He mouthed my name. My cock moved in and out of him so easily. It was a steady rhythm. It was music.

Thrust after thrust, my hard meat rammed into him. It had been so long since I fucked someone. It was euphoric.

My breathing was so heavy. My cock was burning. I knew there was just a touch of sweat on my shoulders and back.

"You're so hot, Mitchell. Fuck me. Don't stop." Carter's quiet words blended with his stare. It was magic. He hypnotized me with his sexual gratitude.

He placed his hands on my neck. I could feel the dangle of the metal bracelet occasionally touch my wet skin. He pulled me down to him. We kissed. Hard.

I kept fucking. It felt so good, I was astonished I had lasted this long.

Our lips separated and our heads rubbed cheek to cheek, my beard rubbing his.

"I love you inside me."

"I love being inside you," I panted.

I lifted up to look at him again.

"Fuck me," he mouthed.

I contemplated a different position, but this felt so good.

So fucking good.

So damn fucking good.

I grunted in my thrusts. I knew I was close. Carter reached for my butt and pushed my dick further into him, as if that were possible.

"You're so deep," he groaned.

"Fuck yes."

We panted and gasped as my orgasm started to build.

"Babe, I'm ... I'm ..."

"Kiss me!" he called out.

Our lips merged. And I came. I groaned into our kiss with each pulse of cum filling the condom. My ecstasy traveled from my throat to his like an echo chamber.

Carter forced his hand between us and grabbed his cock. He began to churn.

I needed air and separated our mouths.

"Keep it in," he panted.

I felt sweaty. And it felt good. I kept fucking him as he stroked his hard organ. I could feel his knuckles and bracelet rub against my torso.

"Fuck me, Mitchell," he mouthed.

His other arm wrapped around my back. His ankles wrapped around my legs.

He panted and pleaded and whispered my name. His fist furiously stroked his cock.

I had not regained regular breathing. I continued to fuck him as hard as my body would physically allow.

"Kiss me!" he called out.

I knew he was close. Our lips met one more time. He moaned into me.

Then his neck arched, and his head tilted back. He groaned as warm liquid splattered between us. He struggled for air in his climax. With a final gasp, he became quiet, still trying to get air. He removed his arm and squeezed me to him tightly. It caused my dick to come out of his body, and I felt the wonderful cum smear between us.

Bliss.

We didn't move. Eventually, I realized my body weight was crushing him and I moved to his side. I ran a finger across his belly, finding a smear of cum. I placed it to my tongue. I repeated the stroke and let him lick it from my finger.

"Finger lickin' good," he smiled.

"Are we using chicken metaphors for our sex life now?" I said.

Carter took a deep breath. "Ha. I've hardly allowed us to have a sex life."

"You had your reasons to hold off for a while. Are ... are you okay ... with ... this?"

"I loved it. You?"

"Fantastic."

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long."

"Carter, it hasn't even been three weeks. Cooper waited until he was married to have sex."

"Really?"

"He was raised in a very religious upbringing."

"I can't say a lot of good things about my parents, but at least I didn't have that."

"You don't love your parents?"

He didn't say anything. A moment later, he said, "We should clean up a bit."

He got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. I heard water turned on. I reached down and wriggled the condom off my dick, which wasn't hard but still longer than usual. I folded it up. Noticing a box of tissues on his nightstand, I dabbed a tissue on the tip of my dick and then folded the condom into it. There was a trash can on my side.

He came back with a warm, wet washcloth and first wiped off my cock and belly, then his. A dry hand towel finished the job. He folded both and put them on his nightstand.

Looking at the clock, I saw that it was not even 2.

"We have almost three hours. What would you like to do with the rest of the afternoon?"

He turned to me. "NOT get dressed."

"Ohhh reaaaaaally."

"Dear heavens. What you must think of me."

"After sex, can you possibly be worried about that?"

Carter's eyes cracked a whip, commanding my attention again. As I stared into them, they almost morphed into those of a puppy.

"I guess I do."

"Why? I like you. You know that."

"When you said that the other day, I ... I guess I realized I should drop my defenses and let us have sex."

"Why did you feel the need for defenses? I don't bite."

"I like you, Mitchell. A LOT. You've shared enough of your past that you've had a string of boyfriends, and you just broke things off with Layton. I just ... I didn't want to become just another notch in the fence. I wanted you to like me before ... before ..."

"Before what?"

"I was afraid for you to see me naked. If you saw me right away, I knew things wouldn't go anywhere."

"Why would you say that? You have an incredible body."

"You don't like tattoos, so I figured the piercing would be a turn off. I'm not your type. I'm not the pretty-boy Cooper and Layton blonds you prefer. And ... not to point out my flaws, but there's ... this."

He pointed to a burned scar to the left of his dick.

"How did that happen?"

"Never mind." He waved me off.

"I'm self-conscious about it."

"You shouldn't be." I let a finger gently rub across it. "It's hardly noticeable."

"I don't think so. It ... it bothers me. I was actually hoping the first time we made love would be at night, in the dark, so you wouldn't see ... everything."

"You are a beautiful man, Carter Robinson. Never doubt that."

"I just want to be right for you. You're perfect."

I leaned up. "Don't you ever call me that!! I am not perfect. I'm not even close." I put my chin on my knees, with my arms wrapped around my legs. "Sorry. I've gotten better, but there are some things that just ... set me off."

He put a hand on my shoulder. "We both have pasts we wish we could change."

I released the momentary tension I had felt. I stretched out into his body. He put his arm around me.

For a few minutes, we just held. My hand drifted up and down his leg, enjoying the feel of the hair growing on it. I let the back of my forefinger graze against his balls. They were tight like mine. He had pre-cum like me. There was a lot I appreciated about Carter and his body. The tats weren't my thing, but they didn't bug me. The nipple piercing just raised more questions than being a turn-off. He was supremely fit. I felt lucky to lie next to his body. I let my hand move up to his abs and pecs. I just liked feeling him. I could tell he liked it too.

Fletcher whimpered from the floor. Carter chuckled and moved his legs over the side of the bed to reach down. He picked Fletcher up to join us. Fletcher ran around to my side and smelled me for a minute. He barked once. Running back and forth on the bed, he finally lay next to Carter on the opposite side from me. I was a stranger in a place I didn't belong.

I snuggled up next to Carter again. My dick pressed into his leg. His arm was around me. My hand fondled his balls.

To our surprise, we both fell asleep.

Forty minutes later, Fletcher barked at something and jumped off the bed. We had no idea what he had heard, but it had awakened us.

We turned to face each other. Our noses touched. We smiled and stretched our lips to give each other a quick peck.

"Best. Birthday. Ever."

"Oh, c'mon," I debated.

"No question. When you've wanted something for some time — and then you get it — that's what makes gifts special."

"I didn't give you anything."

"You gave me exactly what I wanted. You."

"I still don't see why you think I'm such a catch. I've been pretty screwed up. Therapy. Cheated on the man I loved. I'm not ... I'm not a catch, Carter. I'm certainly not perfect."

"Maybe you don't see it, but I do. Your ... your therapist even did."

Hmm. Logan did say he found it easy to have feelings for me (again) even though he resisted them.

"You don't think you're perfect, but I see you as kind, caring, honest, and yeah, vulnerable. All that is so alluring. Throw in how handsome you are and you're a catch, Mitchell. You are worthy of being loved. I hope you feel that. I hope you know that."

"NOW you sound like my therapist. Logan always told me that."

"He's right." Carter held me tighter.

I let my hand rest on top of his dick. It wasn't hard, nor did it need to be. We had made a big step to allow each other to see us as our true selves.

My fingers found his wrist and felt the tightly woven bracelet on his hand. It wasn't exactly a cord, but it wasn't soft either.

"Ryan gave me that. He was the first man who said he loved me."

"How long ago?"

"When I moved back to Jackson Bend. Man, how many years has it been? We were at an art fair. He bought me that. A week later he confided he did it to remember him by. He was moving away."

"Ouch. I know that had to hurt. I had a college boyfriend, Cruz, that had to move away. I know that pain."

"Yeah. We still keep in touch."

"Did I see a card from him on the kitchen counter."

"Correct." Carter stared at the ceiling. "We still talk at least once a month."

"Nice. Do you still have feelings for him?"

"Don't you always for a first love? Well, unless it ends in a fight." He chuckled. "I know you still feel things for Cooper too."

"True. I suppose you're right."

He was. I would always love Cooper. Over time, I realized I could do that without being in love with him. I felt Carter experienced something similar with Ryan.

For another few minutes we just held again. Our fingers just lightly explored the other's body.

Fletcher jumped back up on the bed, looking at me once more being in a place I wasn't supposed to be. I reached for him, and he let me pet him.

"I'm going to grab some tea," I said.

"Okay. Can you do it without getting dressed?"

I turned to him and winked. "If you insist."

"That would be my preference as the birthday boy, yes," he smiled.

I came back and sat on the bed with my legs crossed. The ice in my glass clinked as I took a drink.

"When you were in kindergarten, what did they call how you are sitting?"

"Huh?"

"I remember my grandfather calling it Indian style. When I was in school, it was `crisscross applesauce.'"

"Umm. Random. I don't know. I guess we were just told to cross our legs. I remember our teacher had a rug with squares on it, and we were told to sit in our square. Why?"

"I don't know. I think back to when I was a young kid sometimes."

"Did you have a happy childhood?"

"I did. I tried hard in school. The teachers liked me. I sometimes wonder if they can suspect you're gay when you're little."

"I wonder that too. Can you tell when you are in third or fourth grade?"

"I liked girls as much as boys. I didn't really think so much of boyfriends/girlfriends that much. I had a girlfriend in both sixth and seventh grade. We kissed."

"Have you ever had sex with a girl? A woman?"

"Once. It was in a three-way. Two guys. One girl. We were all 21."

"That's something you have done that I haven't. I have never even seen a girl naked in real life. Did you like it?"

"It's hard to say. I guess ... sure, it felt good, but as I fucked her, the other guy had his cock in my mouth, so I'm not sure how much I was paying attention to everything."

I laughed. Fletcher looked up at me.

"Mitch." Carter's eyes captured me again. "There's a lot of stuff I have done that you haven't."

There was something in his voice. It almost sounded like a confession without actually confiding anything.

"Okay. That's the past. But ... you can always talk to me. I'm a good listener."

"I know you are. Maybe another time."

Carter's layers of onion continued to peel. But the only thing I could really tell is he liked to keep his past private. That was understandable. But if we were going to be a couple — were we there now? — I would hope he wouldn't want to hide things from me.

Carter reached for my pillow and propped it up in front of his. He sat up against them and spread his legs, gesturing for me to move into him. I shimmied over between his legs and leaned against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, while I continued to enjoy my tea.

"I love holding you," he said.

"I love you holding me."

"I loved you being inside me," he softly said into my ear.

"I loved being inside you." I rubbed his arm that was around my belly. "Can I ask when the last time you were fucked was?"

"Hmm. My last boyfriend — if I can call him that — was last summer. A nurse, believe it or not. I met him at the hospital. That's actually where I met Ryan too."

"Huh. Now that's different. People think of bars and nightclubs and dating sites as places to find partners. Hospitals don't usually make the list."

"Ryan was in administration. He got a promotion and transferred to another city. Jhace was a nurse."

"Oooo. Did you ever make love IN the hospital?"

"At the risk of him being fired, no. I was just a volunteer."

"Logical."

"I'm not sure what we had was logical. I loved Ryan. Jhace was more ... sex than anything else. We were ... friends, I guess ... but not ... not really close. Like, we could never do this."

"This? Like talk?"

"Sitting in my arms like this? No. He was like a kid on sugar. He didn't slow down. We'd arrange to have sex, but then he was off."

"He never stayed over?"

"I wanted him to, but ... he did one time. That was it."

"You broke it off?"

"It wasn't going anywhere."

"I understand those feelings."

It was 3:30. "What time do you have to leave?"

"About a quarter to 5."

"What will you eat? Do I need to let you take care of things?"

"I like what I'm taking care of now."

"Mmm. You're sweet, but ... do you eat before you go in? We just ate three hours ago."

"I usually have a salad or some fruit. Sometimes we Grubhub some wraps or something, and each of the bartenders will take about fifteen minutes to inhale something to eat."

"That sounds terrible."

"It's not that bad. Particularly if it lets me hold you some more."

I leaned back, letting all my weight rest in his arms. His hands continued to caress my chest and nipples and belly. I loved his touch. I could feel his chin on my shoulder. I didn't know if his eyes were closed as he touched me or if he looked at our bodies.

I got hard.

His roaming hand lowered to my bush. It teased the pubes above my stiffening cock. His hand lowered some more and gripped my leaking erection. Almost inaudibly, he breathed into my ear: "Mitch. You feel so good." He nibbled on my earlobe.

His strokes were gentle, but they started a rhythm. Slow. Steady. Tender.

I was fully hard. "Carterrrrr," I breathed.

He pulled on my hard-on faster. My chest heaved more deeply as I took in bigger breaths. One of my hands rubbed his other arm wrapped around my chest. My other hand felt his hip and thigh at my side.

Carter had a nice steady tempo going. He had taken me far enough to where the sexual stimulation was very pleasurable, and I wouldn't want him to stop it. I could feel his penis grow along the small of my back. Once it reached its iron state, I moved my hand from his thigh to reach behind me. I groped it.

He breathed heavily in my ear.

Breathing.

Stroking.

Breathing.

Stroking.

Breathing.

Stroking.

"Carter."

"Mitchell."

Breathing.

Stroking.

Minutes added up. I had come two hours earlier, but I knew my cock would be ready. Would it take longer?

Breathing.

Stroking.

I could feel my hips and chest writhe in the sexual surge inside me.

"Oh. Oh, Carter. Ohhhh. Carterrr," I breathed.

Carter gently pressed my earlobe between his teeth; it wasn't painful, just a sensation. His other fingers made a fist, pulling the chest hair between his fingers. He knew I was close and jerked me harder.

"Faster," I panted. "I'm almost there."

His arm was a machine, and my body lurched backward with force into his chest.

"UNGHH!" I cried. "Ungh. Ungh!! Ohhh. Ungh. UNGH!!"

His teeth let go of my earlobe. "Yeeeaahhh," be beathed, as we both looked at the cum on my belly. It wasn't as large a load as if I would have had if we hadn't fucked earlier. But I was okay with the output.

My head flopped limp on his shoulder.

We held.

Then he struggled to get out from behind me. I leaned up. Carter moved down to lick the cum off my body.

"Kiss me," I said.

He moved up. Our tongues slid what cum was still on his tongue. They slow danced with my semen.

"Come up here. Give me that cock."

For the second time today, Carter's dick was thrust into my face.

In the first minute, I was convinced it got harder in my mouth, thrusting in and out.

In the second minute, I was convinced I sensed pre-cum on the back of my tongue. His dick thrusted in and out.

In the third minute, I was convinced Fletcher was watching his master, but I didn't know what made me think that. Watching him thrust his cock into my mouth.

In the fourth minute, I opened my eyes and looked up to see how tight his arms were gripping the headboard as he thrusted his cock in and out. His arms looked so strong.

In the fifth minute, I was convinced as he started moaning my name that he was about to come. I was wrong. He increased the tempo of this thrusting.

In the sixth minute, I played with the underside of his cock with my tongue. He thrust it in and out faster and groaned louder.

In the seventh minute, one of his hands reached down and gently grabbed the hair on my head. He groaned; he moaned my name. He thrust his cock in and out faster still.

In the eighth minute, cum was shot into my mouth. He thrust his cock in and out and made one continuous moan.

In the ninth minute, I held his ass, keeping his spent cock in my mouth. My tongue continued to toy with it. Carter panted and gasped, trying to regain his breath. He wasn't saying words, but within the heavy breathing, he mouthed my name. It was all but inaudible, but I somehow heard it. Then I heard the words "I love you." I wasn't supposed to hear that. He didn't say it. He breathed it. He wasn't telling me; he told himself. I was just convinced I heard it.

Carter moved down to the bed and crushed my body with his on top. I loved his weight on me. His deflating cock conversed with mine. Our lips were sealed into one devouring mouth. Our tongues jousted, with an occasional slickness of cum between them. My hands were on his shoulders, his back, his ass.

My lips broke free to breathe.

"Don't you think this was worth taking off half a day?" I said.

He laughed. "Ohhh, Mitch. This surpassed my expectations. It has been wonderful."

"We don't have to wait four years until the next February 29th, do we?"

He laughed some more. "I like how you make me laugh. And feel. And come. I think you're wonderful, Mitch."

We kissed hard, then he rolled off me.

It was clear Carter was in love with me. Even if I only imagined hearing him breathe those words, Carter had much stronger feelings than I did. He had fallen for me months ago. I was just a few weeks into this. I wasn't near the love stage yet. Was this imbalance going to be a problem? There were so many hurdles in this relationship.

I was scared.

I didn't want to hurt Carter. I didn't want to lose Carter as a friend. With different schedules, I didn't see how we could work.

He rolled into me. I loved feeling a dick pressed into my thigh. I loved that his balls were tight like mine and he had pre-cum like I did. Then his piercing scratched my chest.

"Ow."

"Sorry." He rolled back away from me.

We lay there, him in reverie, me in concern.

He sighed. "I'll have to get up and around in about five minutes. Can we just stay here a little longer?"

"Sounds nice," I answered, enjoying our mutual nakedness.

Carter's hand continued to explore my body. He touched my chest. He teased my chest hair. He fondled my balls and traced my penis. I loved being touched. He held one of my shoulders and traveled down the side of my torso and to my hip. I loved being touched. He felt the hair on my leg and returned to my genitals. I loved being touched.

I got to the end of the bed. Fletcher watched. I moved one of his feet into my hands and began to massage it: the toes, the ball, the heel, the arch. He moaned. I did the same with the other. He moaned at the attention for it as well.

"Do you have a foot fetish?" he asked.

I chuckled. "No. I just know you are going to be standing on them all night."

"Yeah. I'd really love that at 2:30 in the morning."

"Call me."

He blew out a bluster of air. "As if."

I kissed a big toe.

"Okay. I guess I should get motivated," he said. "Hmm. Smell me. Do I need a quick rinse?"

I sniffed his body humorously. "Hmmm. You smell like a man who has come twice."

"Really??"

I laughed. "No. You're fine."

He hesitantly said, "Okay."

Minutes later, I was at the door. He was shirtless. We hugged. We kissed.

"I wish we had time for a third round," he said.

I kissed him again. "My dick can only do so many tricks."

He smiled,, then had a more serious look. "But I made you wait two weeks."

"No. We waited until it was right for both of us."

"And ... it was right ... for you?" he sheepishly asked.

"I loved our afternoon."

Carter's telepathic eyes stared into mine. He was dying to say "I love you" before I walked out the door. His mouth didn't say it, but his eyes did. His brain told him it was way too early to say it. While I agreed, my eyes said, "Thank you."

And I left for the evening, completely satisfied.

—

Friday morning.

When the alarm went off, I checked my phone. A text from Carter had come in at 2:44.

"I got home from work, and when I crawled into bed, I tried my hardest to find your scent on the sheets and your pillow. Maybe it was my imagination, but it did the job ... if you catch my drift."

I sent a text. He would be asleep, but he'd see it when he woke up.

"Thanks a lot. Now I'm ten minutes late ... if you catch my drift."

I hesitated adding the picture, but I followed with an image of my cum around my navel.

—

Saturday morning.

We had hoped to spend a few hours together. Carter called at 10:30 all but in tears.

"What's wrong?"

"I forgot I promised my friend to go load sports equipment for the spring season. It's today. I'm so sorry. I wanted us to have more time. I can still snag lunch, but I have to meet him at 1. I'm so sorry, Sweetie.

"Take care of your friend. I'm fine."

We had a quick bite at McDonald's. When we realized we had twenty minutes left with nothing to do, we darted to my place determined to fit in a ten-minute quickie blowjob. We didn't even take off our clothes. It wasn't necessarily passionate, but the gesture was enjoyable enough.

—

Sunday morning.

I was still reluctant to share my relationship involving Carter with the coffee group. That alone seemed like a red flag to me, but at the same time, it wasn't "him," it was the fear that we wouldn't last and then everyone would have to feel sorry for me. I didn't want to be that person. If ... IF we did break up, it would be of my choosing. It was just too unknown. I didn't want to think about breaking up, but I just kept picturing obstacles.

A text came in. It was Carter. "Do you like olives?"

"No. Sorry. I hate them."

"Good to know. Glad I asked. I'll have lunch ready at noon."

"Can't wait."

I smiled. That was true. I couldn't wait to see him. I felt that was a good sign. Despite my fears, I loved all my time spent with Carter. I was going to use that mindset as my focus.

Another text came in. What now, Carter?

Hmm. It was Layton. We hadn't really communicated in weeks. Odd.

"I know you are seeing Carter."

* * * *

I related post is on the blog: timothylane414stories.blogspot.com It is called "Dating Carter."

Email: timothylane414@gmail.com

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