Disclaimer:
This story contains homosexual themes. If you are offended by such topics or not of legal age to read such stories, please do not read on. The names of characters and their engagements are fictitious. Any resemblances to real life are completely coincidental.The author asserts all legal and moral rights to this work and it may not be copied or transmitted in any way except in its entirety along with this disclaimer.
Copyright (c) Anne 2008. All rights reserved.
YOU DON'T SAY
"You don't say I love you on a first date," Michael couldn't keep his voice down.
He could see Andrew in his peripheral staring through the window on his right; looking like a child that had been told he couldn't have dessert, due to his bad behaviour.
"I didn't say I love you." Andrew corrected, although in no way pleased with himself. "I said 'I'm in love with you," his voice lower than usual.
"Massive difference Drew," Michael replied, shaking his head at the dark road ahead.
"I knew you'd agree. I didn't get to eat. We need to stop somewhere."
Michael continued, as if his companion hadn't spoken. "What were you thinking? Never be yourself on a date. For you, especially it's a complete catastrophe."
"Insert laughter here. You're a shit, you know that." Andrew said still not looking at him.
Sneaking a glance at his driving companion Michael tried to estimate how long this one would take to fix; he had to remind himself to cut the glance short. It wasn't like he hadn't memorized the features of the person sitting next to him. Some he knew better than others and others he'd have to wait to see. He shook his head and concentrated on his driving.
Andrew was usually the tallest in most rooms, standing at a dependable 6'3". At the moment Michael knew that he wasn't comfortable in the small vehicle, as his long legs were given little room. Andrew had that dark hair, light eyes feature that made everyone melt into him.
His lips were thin but defined. When you looked closely you could see that the top lip dominated the bottom just a little. At that moment and others prior to it Michael wanted to lick the small cleft in Andrew's chin. Then just to be fair the same would have to be done to the rest of his body, at least once a day; twice on Sunday, as it was a day of worship. Michael raised his eyebrows and nodded to confirm his decision.
It was hard, not to notice Andrew. Harder to watch him walk away with the wrong men, over and again when he, the right man was right there drooling, like a fucking dog. Michael noticed that his hands were hurting as a result of strong hold on the steering wheel.
"Why do you have to jump into things?" Michael asked, bringing himself into the present. Andrew was barely talking to him. Usually he was loud and aggressive, now he wasn't. He felt safer around loud Andrew, this other one was unpredictable.
"If I was like you I'd never do anything except wait and regret." The window was still listening and misting at the heat of Andrew's quiet words.
"I hesitate Drew, it's human."
"No you chicken out. I know what I'm doing Mike."
Michael stopped the car. His heart felt like it was experiencing the effects of a sprint. The old Ford came to a slow stop at the side of the motorway. There was nothing ahead of them but Michael couldn't take his eyes from the clear glass in front of him.
"I wouldn't have said 'I'm in love with you' without knowing you felt the same way." Andrew was looking at him now. Michael could feel the stare raise the heat in his cheeks.
"I was going to tell you." He exhaled, suddenly exhausted.
"Not before I died," Andrew softly scolded. He wanted to comfort Michael, touch him as more than a friend. In places where Mike would be sure that it wasn't a joke and he wasn't drunk. Those were the only times he could touch him where he really wanted to, the only times he was allowed.
Andrew twisted himself and sat up straight. He knew what he wanted. Although still shaken from Michael's walk out, he calmed the redder Michael's face became. He wanted to be the only one that could do that, mark and excite him in some way. He'd never been in a friendship or relationship that had lasted as long as the one he had with Michael and he realized that he didn't want one. They had known each other for fifteen years, when he was thirteen and Michael fifteen. They didn't know everything about each other, but they knew enough.
On Monday in his office going over a lawsuit claim, he accepted that he was in love with his best friend. Michael was flighty around the 'L' word. The plan had been simple. Just tell Michael that he wanted to spend more time with him and then see where that route took them. He wasn't to mention the words "relationship" or "long term" under any circumstances. He had made reservations at their restaurant, and had met him there. Everything was fine, until the food arrived. Watching Michael's fork jump into the salad for the second time, Andrew had blurted the words out. If he hadn't followed Michael after he had walked out of the restaurant, he would have never seen him again.
In the car Andrew noticed that the heat from Michael's face made the hair seem even more blonde. His lips seemed fuller and firmer when he was nervous. Andrew willed himself not to bite them, shifting his hips also willing his erection to subside; for now anyway. His cock had been swelling since Michael had stopped the car. The thought of Michael naked and nervous in various areas of his house had him straining and leaking in his briefs. He still couldn't look away from those lips though.
"I really am chicken shit," Michael's confession was no surprise to either of them.
He smiled when he heard Andrew quietly gasp because he had reached out and grabbed his left hand. They didn't know that they were both thinking the same thing 'Don't stop. If you do that's it.' So Michael continued to run his right palm over Andrew's hand. Feeling the roadmap of veins and warm skin; he was surprised that it was so soft. 'What about the rest of him?' He sighed.
Andrew had his head glued to the headrest; he was almost thirty and still almost spermed his shorts when Michael slowly stroked the space between each finger on his hand. 'He's doing this on purpose' he thought. Finally, Michael ran his thumb over the knuckles of what seemed to be the best hands in the world.
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