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: Chapter 2
Michael didn't let go. His hand when separated from Andrew's would return each time. Once inside Michael's apartment, it's owner went into the bathroom leaving Andrew to look around and get settled before a dinner of Chinese take away. Andrew couldn't help the smile thatcrossed his face as he looked around. Michael knew where everything was in his apartment. His flighty and itinerant character was balanced with a neat streak bordering on OCD.
When they had first met one of the things Andrew noted about Michael was that he fidgeted more than most people. Still, even as he did that his hair was always in place, his school suit neat as a pin. Just like when they were younger Andrew wanted to disorganize everything of his. Sohe reached over to his left and started by moving around the 'A' section of Michael's library.
Andrew had never understood why Michael didn't have any of hiswork on display. An onlooker would correctly guess that Michael appreciated art but not that he practiced it.
"You've redecorated." Andrew said, once he was sure he had done a good job.
"I had to." Michael replied from far away, as if that explained the new arrangement to most of the lower half of the apartment.
When he came out of the bathroom Michael found his heart returning to its fast beat as he watched Andrew talking to himself and laying outthe ordered food on the small coffee table in the living room. He didn't know what it was that made Andrew a perfect fit in his apartment and his heart.
He quickly wiped his hands over his face as a route to regaining what little composure he had and went to help.
Their first kiss was inevitable, mostly because Andrew wouldnot have ended the night without one. Having Michael initiateit, however, was the root of the surprise for Andrew. As he was getting up from the floor, to put some of the cartons away, Andrew was tugged back down.
In any first kiss there's that moment of doubt to allow for fight or flight to kick in and take effect: Michael took seventeen minutes. Seventeen sixty second moments spent staring at Andrew, not allowinghis hand to leave Andrew's thigh. As someone used to being vocal and taking action Andrew had to bite the inside of his mouth to stop himself from breaking the silence. His body grew stiff from having to restrain himself from kissing Michael. But he needed proof, proof that he wasn't alone in what he felt. So he waited.
When the kiss was delivered Andrew was surprised by how it felt. The kisswas a side of Michael he hadn't known about, challenging everything he thought he knew. It was uncontrolled, eager and passionate and it didn't seem to lessen as time went on. Michael teased and enticed, waking a hunger in Andrew he didn't think was possible outside the realm of his imagination. His body actually tingled from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.
He felt cold and hot at the same time, shaking with his heart pounding in his ears.
Michael did all of that. Andrew had expected heat and lust but what he was feeling was new to him. He was so happy and scared that all he could do was kiss Michael back.
Michael's tongue kept seeking out Andrew's and daring it to into his mouth. His hands combed through Andrew's hair, pinched his ear lobes and tickled his neck.
Andrew almost didn't mind that Michael had had to have been with other men to be as good as he was. His hands without his knowledge had somehow fumbled through the layers of Michael's clothing and were clutching at his bare back, running their fingers over its sinewy muscles, before slowly moving downwards.
At some point they must have decided that Michael would lie on top of him, Andrew thought to himself, as he couldn't remember when it had happened. Michael's body fit to his so well. Andrew stood three inches below Michael's 6'3" frame and was leaner and more defined in build. Michael on the other hand was wider and more muscled. His weight unlike so many times before didn't make Andrew feel trapped. For once he didn't try to roll so that he would be on top, for once he felt right at home.
Before the kiss, as they had sat down to eat, Andrew hadn't said anything when Michael kept getting up to retrieve an unnecessary utensil, or go into his bedroom for his glasses or make pointless calls. Andrew just sat there and ate slowly waiting for him to return.Each time he came back Michael was greeted with a knowing smirk and a change of topic. The only reason Michael had stopped getting up to leave his living room table, was because Andrew had put his hand on Michael's thigh and kept it there.
Adding to his troubles Michael had had to endure watching Andrew eat. Even when unemployed from the business of eating Andrew'slips had always managed to catch Michael's attention. As a result Michael was left without an appetite and a relentless hard on.
So he picked at his food and went into what Andrew called his 'quiet mode.' This was when he wouldn't speak but let others carry on the conversation, nodding and 'hmming' at the right places. It was only when his left thigh felt cold, Michael realized that Andrew had taken his hand away and was getting up. He'd only wanted that hand back on his thigh as he pulled Andrew back down. But pulling Andrew back down to him meant feeling the heat of his leg through the fabric of his trousers. To Michael, that was the last straw.
The seventeen sixty-second moments were used up in thought about all of Andrew's faults. Andrew waited for no one, he was impatient, loud, blunt. Never more so than with Michael. When it came to those he cared about
Andrew could hurt them faultlessly and love them unconditionally.
When he was fifteen Michael moved to a new school. On the first day a boy his age with a group of his friends walked by his desk and without warning messed up his hair and continued walking and talking as if nothing had happened. When Michael looked back at the person responsible, he was given a grin.
That grin was Andrew's. At fifteen Michael finally understood the meaning of desire. He didn't talk to Andrew for two years after that incident.
After the evaluation Michael couldn't make his feelings disappear. After fifteen years of evaluating nothing Michael knew about Andrew lessened his love for him. This was what he was running away from and what he wanted close to him. He had never felt more lucky or alive in his life and if he didn't do something he doubted he would get another chance like the one before him.
So he kissed Andrew and soon found that he didn't want to stop. His mouth pressed harder and his tongue searched deeper into the mouth beneath his, trying to get as close as possible to Andrew and stay there.
Michael couldn't help the grin that crept across his face as Andrew started to push his hips upwards to meet his.
"You have to go home." Michael said, reluctantly, pulling his flushed face from Andrew's.
"That's where you're wrong." Andrew informed him, noting the look on Michael's face.
Before now Andrew had always thought it was from anger, that odd look of intensity that only Michael could give him. He always assumed that he was doingsomething that pissed Michael off. Now he realized that Michael wanted him. It was the look of desire. It reminded Andrew of their first meeting and he smiled.
"Let's go." Michael said now standing, with his back to Andrew.
"At least let me give you head first. You did buy dinner." Michael rolled his eyes, as he simultaneously attempted to make hiserection dissolve and tuck his shirt back in. Everything was betteragain, if Andrew could joke with him .
"Where's your jacket?" Michael asked.
"In your bedroom." "I'll be in the car. Lock the door on your way out, perv." The two of them had never managed to live toofar away from one another and if they did it wasn't forlong. Those who knew them well often wondered how long it would take, before they realized themeaning of this habit.
"You haven't kissed me goodnight." Andrew said through a grin, when they reached his doorstep.
In bed later that evening it happened. He knew it would, but not as soon as it did.
Michael always leaned on the odd hope that his love for his best friend would eventually go away. Friendships were serious whereas relationships were uncertain. He trusted friendship and had had few relationships. If what he was starting with Andrew failed he didn't know how he would manage. His stomach curled itself into a knot and stayed that way. Wanting to clear his head Michael decided to go for a walk.
Andrew didn't often use the methods learnt in his profession to aid his love life. Mostly because he had never really had one; a lust life, yes, love was never present. He knew he would geta goodnight kiss, just as he knew he'd be making love to Michael that evening.
"Would you get that grin off your face. You're a grown man." Michael had told him as he ran his hand through Andrew's hair. Both men were tired. Three rounds of sex tend to have that effect.
"I just got laid." Was Andrew's drowsy reply "Well laid. Repeatedly. Sue me." "Ok, sleep." As he was drifting off to sleep Andrew couldn't eliminate a nervous feeling pooling around the pit of his stomach. His bed was large enough to hold four men of his size and Michael had taken full advantage of that fact. When he thought Andrew was asleep, he moved himself as far as was feasible from Andrew.
Three days after the "I'm in love with you" debate and the wonderful sexalovathon Andrew hadn't heard from Michael. Then at 2 p.m on the fourth day Michael sent him a text. After reading the message Andrew put down his phone and went back to work.
When it came to Michael, his gut was never wrong.
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