Chris

Chris - chapter 2

by Roy Reinikainen

Chris untangled himself from the sheets and knelt between Brian's spread legs. Outside, the rain continued, accompanied by the occasional roll of thunder or flash of lightning. Brian was behaving as if he wasn't sure what to do; it was as if Chris wasn't playing the role he was accustomed to. Chris trailed his fingers over Brian's thighs and then over the length of his cock. Brian closed his eyes, murmuring an occasional, "yes."

When Chris swallowed Brian's penis and began to stimulate it with the muscles of his throat he gasped and reached out and clutched the bedclothes as he arched his back and groaned loudly. "No one has ever done that to me before," he managed to say, before groaning once more, overcome with the sensations.

Chris chuckled as he sat back on his heels, admiring the man in front of him. His broad chest was heaving as he tried to regain control of his breathing, and his erection pulsed, as if it ached to achieve release. Brian lifted his head slightly and held his arms out, inviting Chris to lie on top of him. Chris chuckled and crawled on hands and knees over Brian's body and leaned close so they could kiss, all the while rocking his hips slightly to run his erection over Brian's.

"Are you ready to fuck me, city boy?" Brian groaned and tried to nod while not releasing Chris' tongue.

"Gooooood," he cooed, moving quickly so he was standing on the bed, with a foot on either side of Brian's head. Chris looked down as Brian reached up and fondled his testicles and then ran a couple long fingers behind his scrotum, over his perineum and touched his anus. Chris spread his feet slightly farther apart to give Brian better access.

"Do you like what you feel?" He was answered by a groan. "Do you want to get me all wet with your tongue?" Brian's groans increased in volume. "Can your tongue get me ready for that fat dick of yours?" Brian nodded and began fondling Chris' ass cheeks with both hands.

"You say you're a butt man, Mr. Winslow. Here's my butt. Do your best." Chris slowly lowered himself over Brian's waiting tongue until he was finally squatting on Brian's mouth. Brian groaned in pleasure as he began lapping at the hole.

He was behaving like a wild man, thrashing about beneath Chris at the same time he reached up and pulled Chris closer, groaning even louder as his tongue probed Chris' hole. "Are you ready, Brian? Ready to fill me?" He felt more than saw Brian nod. The moment he moved off of Brian's tongue Brian grabbed him and pulled him close, forcing his tongue into Chris' mouth, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

"The question is . . . farm boy, whether you are ready to take my big dick up that tight hole of yours." His voice was rough with emotions. He pulled Chris into another rough kiss.

"Do you like the taste of your sweaty butt?" He licked across Chris' cheek. He was writhing against Chris, seeking stimulation for his erection.

"You know what I'm gonna do once I've filled that sloppy hole full of my cum?" Chris tried to say something but was prevented when Brian buried his tongue in his mouth.

"You're gonna squat on my face and I'm gonna lick . . . " He licked over Chris' neck, and then continued. "All of my sperm. . ." This time, he licked across Chris' ear. "I'm gonna lick it all out of your sloppy asshole." Chris groaned. He had never been as excited as he was now. He quickly gave Brian another deep kiss and then scrambled to his knees, astride Brian's hips. In one smooth move he sank back on Brian's erection until his scrotum was brushing Brian's thick black pubes.

He reached behind him and caressed Brian's scrotum as he began to slowly move up and down the length of Brian's erection. Brian began to buck his hips as Chris attempted to meet each thrust. This was no tentative lovemaking. Brian was claiming Chris as his.

"Wait, Brian." Chris pulled away from Brian and off his erection and then quickly lay on his back, drawing his legs back to his chest and exposing his puckered hole. Brian scrambled between Chris' legs and leaned forward, lapping at the sloppy hole and then climbed onto Chris, sliding back into the sloppy hole. He held Chris' legs back with his shoulders and gasped in pleasure at the slippery warmth encircling him.

"You're so tight, farm boy." His breath was hot against Chris' neck. "And so hot." He attacked Chris' mouth with the same strength he was using on his hole.

Brian abandoned Chris' mouth for a moment and moved to a kneeling position, holding Chris' legs apart by the ankles. Each thrust was accompanied by the slap of their naked bodies against one another. With each thrust, Chris' erection and testicles would bounce and he could feel his own balls slap against Chris' upturned butt in a steady rhythm.

He slowed, sliding out until only the head of his penis remained inside. He could see Chris' hole begin to expand, as the flare of the head of his dick came into view, and then contract once again as he slid back, burying himself entirely. He leaned forward and the two men kissed as he continued to shove into Chris, who grunted slightly with the force of each thrust.

"Harder, Brian," Chris gasped. "Pound my . . . ass . . . hard."

Brian's breath was beginning to become ragged as he felt his orgasm approach. With each thrust he told himself he had never felt so good when he was fucking someone. All the while, Chris was demanding him to thrust harder, or deeper. Chris was no passive bottom. He pulled Brian closer, moving to meet each of Brian's strokes. He could feel the sweat drip off of Brian, onto his face.

"Shoot . . . your sperm . . . in . . . me . . . Brian." Chris' words pushed Brian closer to the brink. "Shoot a . . . big load . . . Brian." He groaned loudly as Brian slammed into him especially hard. "Shoot a . . . big . . . load, cause . . . you're gonna . . . suck it all . . . out . . . when you . . . finish."

Brian shouted and buried himself fully as his cock throbbed as it pumped Chris full.

Chris was breathing heavily. His eyes were closed but he was smiling with a look of complete satisfaction. When Brian didn't pull out, but continued his slow strokes, Chris opened his eyes. Brian was covered with a fine sheen of sweat. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was standing out in rough spikes from where Chris' fingers had raked through it. Brian glanced at Chris and then turned a fascinated gaze between Chris' legs.

He saw how widely Chris was stretched. All he could see was his own dense mat of pubic hair and about a half inch of his own penis, surrounded by the stretched skin of the hairless hole. He grinned and glanced at Chris as he felt him contract his butt muscles, causing some of his sperm to leak out, a natural lube for his slow stimulation. He reached down and rubbed his fingers over the cum and then added some of his own spit and began to slowly masturbate Chris as he continued to slowly rock his hips, sliding in and out of Chris' hole.

"C'mon, farm boy." His hand circled Chris' erection, slowly stroking its length and pausing at the prominent head before sliding back down to his wiry brown pubes. "You've been waiting a long time for me to make you shoot. Now's your chance." He continued the steady strokes of both his cock and his hand.

'It's been so long,' he thought as he watched Chris writhe in front of him and begin to gasp for breath. 'And it has never been as good as this.' Beneath him, Chris groaned.

"Come on, farm boy," he urged. "Shoot me a big load so I can suck it all up before I lick your asshole clean." He intentionally slowed his hand stroke, causing Chris to moan with frustration.

He felt the muscles of Chris' ass clench down hard on his cock a moment before Chris arched his back and began shooting his load. The first strand of sperm hit him on the chin. The second, covered his right nipple, and the third puddled in his navel. All left a trail back to his penis.

An hour later, Brian was lying on his side, propped up on his right elbow as he tenderly ran his fingers over Chris' chest. Chris was on his back with his head pillowed in his folded hands humming with pleasure at the slow movements of the fingers over his skin.

Brian chuckled and ran his fingers through Chris hair. "You look like a wild man with your hair sticking out like that." He thought a moment. "Come to think of it, you are a wild man. Do you always shoot so much?" He nibbled on one of Chris' nipples.

Chris snorted and reached out to hold Brian's hand. "Shit, man, you've got to remember, I haven't had real sex for . . . a long time. That, combined with the fact I'm with you, makes it a sure bet I'm going to cum a lot. Besides, you didn't do too bad yourself." He raised Brian's hand to his mouth and kissed it. Brian watched for a moment longer and then kicked himself free of the sheets and stretched out next to Chris, lying an arm over his chest and snuggling his face into the crook of Chris' shoulder.

The rain had finally stopped but the blustery wind continued. Chris stared at the ceiling of the darkened room lost in thought, sure Brian had fallen asleep. Suddenly, Brian shifted slightly and then propped himself up on his right elbow.

"What, now . . . "

Chris chuckled. "Whoa, lover-boy, there are a lot of things we haven't done." He reached out and pulled Brian close so they could kiss. When they separated he licked his lips and smiled. "Yum, you still taste of sperm." He looked puzzled for a moment and then smacked his lips. "I can't tell if it's mine or yours." Brian chortled and playfully punched him on the shoulder.

"That's not what I met, and you took so much out of me I won't be able to shoot another load for, . . . oh, fifteen minutes, or so."

"Well, I recharge faster than you, so watch out mister." Brian didn't respond but returned to caressing Chris' chest, periodically running his long fingers over Chris' cheeks, lips and chin, pleased when his touch caused a smile.

This gentleness was so different from their earlier lovemaking. He enjoyed both the aggressive and the restrained and was pleased Chris did as well.

"What is it, Brian? What did you mean by, 'what now?' Suddenly, you're looking all serious on me again." He struggled onto his side so he was facing Brian. "Are you feeling bad about being with me? I mean, having sex . . . what we just did?" He was rewarded with a chuckle.

"No, definitely not. Brian rolled onto his back and pulled Chris with him so that he was stretched out full-length on Brian's body. "Ummm," he murmured as they separated from a kiss. "I could become accustomed to having a Chris blanket on those cold winter nights." He wiggled slightly, making a funny face. "Except he's got a few lumpy places . . . and he leaks, so he gets everything sticky. But otherwise, he's about all a guy like me could ask for."

Chris began kissing Brian's neck and worked his way over his jaw to his mouth and waiting tongue. He wiggled slightly, enjoying the feeling of his erection pressed against Brian's, but then rolled to Brian's side when he saw the serious expression didn't go away.

"Okay, okay, I'll be serious." He schooled his expression to one of appropriate solemnity. "I don't know what we do now. Right now, I'm living for the moment. I still can't really believe I'm here . . . with you. After that finally sinks in, maybe I can think of what to do next."

Brian took Chris' hand and ran his thumb over the smooth palm. "Have you given any thought to whether we might be good for one another? I mean together?" Chris leaned forward and quickly kissed Brian.

"Yes, every day for . . . years. Okay, I'll be good. I haven't had a chance to think about things like that. Right now, I'm caught up in you and sex." He paused a moment and shifted to a cross legged position, scooting close to Brian. "I think we could be good together. I'd like to try. What about you? How are you feeling? It's a pretty big jump moving from where you were earlier in the afternoon to talking about living with someone new. I mean, can you really think about that?" Brian shrugged, shifting around so he was lying with his head in Chris' lap.

"Chris, when I was sitting with you in the bar having a drink I thought you were cute. When we were having dinner I thought of you as cute and playful. I've also seen a serious side, and a sexual side. I love all of them." He reached up and caressed Chris' cheek.

"I'd like us to think about being together after we're no longer on vacation. I'm frightened by the thought of such a change, but you have become so special to me in only a few hours, I don't know how I could get along without you near me. I'm comfortable with you." He paused a moment and then continued. "Do all these things combined, equal love?" He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Shhh, Brian. Let's not talk about love. We can be serious later. Let's enjoy one another's company . . . and bodies for a couple days, okay?" He wiggled his tongue at Brian and smiled.

"You know where I'd like to put this?"

Brian had an idea, but decided to play along. Chris was right. There was time enough for serious thought in a few days. He reached out a forefinger and brushed it against Chris' tongue. "Why don't you show me what you can do with that tongue of yours, followed by a nice slow fuck." Chris raised his eyebrows.

"Seriously?" Brian nodded.

"I like things slow and gentle though, when I'm getting my butt fucked. I don't enjoy feeling like a herd of horses has run over me when I'm done."

"I'm yours to command, Brian." Chris leaned close and kissed him deeply. "I always will be."

Chris sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to finish tying his shoes. They both were silent, acutely aware of their approaching separation. When he sat up, Brian was perched on the edge of the room's desk, idly swinging a leg. His arms were crossed as he looked out of the room's windows.

After their first night together, Chris had gone back to the hotel he was supposed to be staying at and had shifted his stuff to Brian's hotel room. Now, their bags were packed and were sitting on the floor near the door, ready for a hotel staff person to carry them down to the lobby where he and Brian would catch a taxi and go their separate ways.

He watched Brian closely, attempting to memorize everything about him. Today, he had given up the role of tourist and was dressed in a pair of navy blue slacks and a blindingly white shirt, all sharp creases and perfection. Brian's sunburn had faded over the past few days, leaving a slightly peeling nose. His long fingers were woven together and now rested on his lap. Chris watched him take a deep breath, chew on his lower lip for a moment and then turn toward him.

"I guess it's about time," he said with a resigned sigh. His eyes were full of pain; the remembered pain of losing his lover, now the pain of parting. Chris stood and took the few steps to stand at Brian's side and rested his arm across his shoulders. Just like their first night together, they were talking without looking at one another.

"Brian . . ." He felt as if the emotions he had held in check all morning were going to overwhelm him. "Brian, I've made sure I didn't say this during the time we've been together, but I . . . just can't . . . leave you . . . without telling you that . . . " He took a deep breath. "I love you, Brian." His voice caught as he fought back a sob.

"Don't, Chris, please." Brian stood and they hugged each other. "Don't make it harder for both of us." Chris shook his head, still resting on Brian's shoulder.

"I have to. I can't leave you without you knowing how I feel." He sniffed. "I'm going to get your nice clean shirt all messy, if I keep this up." Chris stood straight and sniffed, wiping his eyes and trying to put on a brave smile. It didn't help when he saw a single tear escape one of Brian's eyes and run over his cheek to land on his shirt.

"This is the toughest thing I've ever had to do . . . leaving you." He sniffed again and then went to the nightstand, grabbed a tissue and blew his nose. Brian took a deep breath through his open mouth and wiped his own eyes.

"I know." He tried to smile. "The tomorrow I told you not to think about the other night has finally arrived, and we both are having to face it." He continued to perchon the edge of the desk as he spread his arms. "C'mere."

Chris shyly crossed the room and stepped into a tight embrace. Brian buried his face against Chris' chest and held him close. Suddenly, Brian's shoulders began to shake as he was wracked with sobs.

"I can't," he began, and hiccoughed. "I can't bear to let you go, Chris." He took a deep ragged breath. " I just finished saying goodbye to one man I loved, now I'm faced with having to say the same thing to another man I love." His breath caught in his throat. "It's just too much. I'm gonna be a wreck without you." Chris couldn't think of what to say or do. He knew how much he hurt. It appeared as if Brian's pain was deeper.

"You mean you're gonna miss my humor?" Brian hiccoughed once again.

"What humor?" He sniffed and then blew his nose on a tissue Chris handed him.

"What humor! Like the time I did that drag thing . . . under protest. I wasn't gonna dress like streetwalker like some other guys I knew, so I borrowed something from one of my co-workers and put on the friggin dress backwards, complete with inflatable tits. I bought those. My co-worker had a couple of built-in ones." He stooped slightly and looked at Brian. "Feeling better?" Brian shook his head, but at least he was no longer crying.

"Anyway," Chris continued. "There I was with this friggin' square dance dress, with a pair of inflatable tits on my back, and wearing a Marilyn Monroe mask also facing backwards. Remember me telling you this story? Don't tell me you were sleeping the whole time!" He shook his head in disbelief, pleased that Brian had stopped sobbing.

"I tell you, I was a hit in that square dancing dress with the hundred and one petticoats that made the dress stand out so straight it was more like a table cloth. Square dancing is a big thing back in Nebraska. You shoulda seen me when I sat down. The dress went up, so everyone got a great view of my yellow jockstrap. Of course, I couldn't see anything." Brian snickered as he recalled the story. Chris paused a moment lost in thought, and then started up again.

"Anyway . . . I was really a sight with my hairy legs and three-day growth of beard in that red checked dress and pink shoes. I especially liked those inflatable tits." He cupped his hands over his chest, miming the size. "I had a little squeeze thing that was connected to them so I could pump 'em up, or let 'em down. One moment I was a 42D size and the next, a 42long. Funny thing was, when they were inflating a wheezing sound surrounded me. When they deflated . . . I won't mention what that sounded like." Brian smiled.

"See, you do remember the story. As my tits would inflate I'd sorta back up to guys and tell them that they turned me on and then I'd sway my hips from side to side and try to act sexy, hoping they'd ignore the wheezing sounds. I'd back up, you see, because I had everything on backwards, so to them it looked like Marilyn was getting close, except her damn pink shoes were on backwards. Anyway. So, there I was trying to act like a sexy woman." Chris seductively swayed his hips from side to side and backed pto Brian.

"It misses something without the damned dress and tits. So, what do I know about what makes a woman sexy? Me! I don't have a clue, so I just took a stab at it." He looked at Brian with a satisfied smile and nodded a couple times while he crossed his arms. "I had quite a few offers too. Of course, I couldn't really make out what some of the guys were offering, but they were offers." Brian wiped his eyes on his impeccable shirt and sniffed as he chuckled.

"I love you too, Chris." He leaned close and their lips had only just touched when there was a sharp knock on the door and the staff person announced himself. Brian made a face and walked to the door, wiping his eyes on his shirt as he crossed the room.

"Sir, the driver has asked me to tell you that your ride is waiting." Brian nodded, telling him which bags were his, and asking him to tell the driver he'd be down in a moment. The man left and Brian turned back to Chris. He held his arms out from his sides and then let them fall in seeming hopelessness.

"I've gotta go, Chris," he choked out. "I . . . I can't kiss you again or I'll start crying." He turned toward the room's door and then stopped and turned, with one hand on the doorknob. "Thank you farm-boy . . . for everything." He stepped into the hallway, still holding the door, and gave Chris a watery smile. "Remember, I . . . I love you." He let the door close.

Chris sank back onto the desk, sitting in the same spot Brian had recently vacated, and let out a slow breath. Already, he felt . . . empty and alone. He looked around the room, which had been filled with Brian's personality and laughter for the past three days, and impulsively walked to the bed and buried his face in Brian's pillow, inhaling his scent as he clutched the pillow to his chest.

It was all he could do not to rush after him. 'What good would it do? We both have lives and jobs to return to.' He stripped the pillowcase off the pillow, folded it, and then put it in one of the dry cleaning bags provided by the hotel. Once he was satisfied it was as air tight as he could make it he stuffed it into his bag. 'It's all I have left,' he thought, walking to the door as someone came to pick up his bags. He stopped at the door and looked around the room. The bellhop cleared his throat and Chris turned to him with a sad smile and then sniffed and let the door close.

'Brian,' he moaned to himself as he followed the bellboy to the elevator and then out to the front of the hotel where he caught a taxi. 'You've turned my life upside down. Since we met back in school, I've had to be content to live with my fantasies about you. Now that the fantasies have become reality, how will I ever be content without you by my side?'

Brian stumbled on a large crack in the dimly lit airport parking garage, but managed not to fall, landing instead against someone's SUV with a dull thud. Thankfully, he didn't set off the vehicle's alarm. He was emotionally exhausted. He was hungry, and it was getting cold. During the past few days he had become accustomed to the desert heat and was unprepared for the autumn chill of home. He shivered slightly and threw his bags in the back seat of his car.

The trip home had been uneventful. He quietly stood in the long airport security line, and then waited in the terminal while his plane was delayed in landing. Normally, he would have been impatient. Now he was numb. He remained quietly tolerant of the chattering young girl sitting next to him, and then blindly moved through his hometown airport, collecting his bags and heading out to find his car in the huge garage. All he could think about was Chris, and the stricken look on his face when he had told him he couldn't give him another kiss without breaking into tears.

'I wonder where Chris is, right now. He told me he'd email me to say he'd gotten home.'

Brian pulled out onto the freeway and headed for home. He was dreading coming back to the house he had shared with Eric. Everything held a memory. All of Eric's possessions were there. The place even smelled of Eric.

An hour later he was home. He grinned, thinking it only slightly longer to get from Las Vegas to Denver than it did to get from the Denver airport to his house. 'The damn airport is located half-way to Kansas,' he thought as he pulled into the garage and rushed into the house, heading straight to his computer. He impatiently waited while a week's worth of junk mail downloaded at a snail's pace. 'There!' Brian fumbled with the buttons on the mouse but managed to open the message.

To: Brian Winslow Subject: I'm home Date: October 9, 2006 From: Chris Loughlin

"Hi Brian. I got home okay and want so badly for you to be sleeping next to me tonight. I miss you so much. I love you more than I can say. Chris"

Brian clicked on 'reply' and then didn't know what to type.

To: Chris Loughlin Subject: I miss you already Date: October 9, 2006 From Brian Winslow

"Chris. I'm in a house surrounded by memories and mementos of Eric, and they're all screaming at me to do whatever it takes, to be happy. Right now, I don't see how that's possible . . . without you by my side. I love you, farm boy. Take good care of yourself. You and your funny stories have captured my heart. Love you, Brian."

Jon closed the front door, blocking out a gust of cold wind and a few snowflakes from an early winter storm. He shivered slightly as he stripped out of his heavy coat and hung it in the closet, and then unwound his wool scarf and hung it next to the coat. A slight noise drew his attention farther into the house.

'Good, I'm glad he's home.' He picked up his briefcase and headed for the dining room, and the sound. Chris was sitting at the table wearing an old university sweatshirt, a pair of faded blue jeans with a ragged hole in one knee and a pair of old tennis shoes. He looked up when Jon cleared his throat and grinned a half-hearted, "hi, how's it going," before staring at the table top and looking thoroughly miserable.

Jon sat his brief case on a chair and gave Chris a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, answering his question. "Things are going okay. There's a storm sweeping in, so we'll probably have some snow in the morning." Chris acknowledged the prediction with a slight nod. He was idly rolling a pen from left to right, lost in thought.

"Chris." Jon paused a moment, not sure how to proceed. He'd been thinking about what he wanted to say for a couple weeks, but the time never seemed right. Chris had been recently been looking so miserable, it just never seemed the right time. He had to find out what the trouble was. His little prepared speech could wait for a few minutes, or until Chris was feeling better.

He pulled out a dining chair and sat down, resting his forearms on the table and waited. Chris ignored him.

"I was having lunch with Jerry Parsons today," Jon said, hoping to get some reaction. "You know, one of the guys from your company?" Still, no reaction. "He told me everyone over there is getting concerned about you. They think maybe you're sick, or are going through some sort of personal tragedy." He leaned closer and laid a hand over Chris', stopping the nerve wracking motion of the pen on the table top.

"Are you sick?" Chris shook his head once, but didn't look up.

"Have you suffered some sort of tragedy you haven't told me about?" Again, Chris shook his head, and withdrew his hand from beneath Jon's, crossing his arms.

"Then, what is the problem? Ever since you came back from that convention in Vegas, you've been acting strange. Are you sure you're not sick?"

Chris leaned back in his chair and sighed, shaking his head. "No, Jon, I'm fine." He saw the skeptical look on his roommate's face. "Really." Jon sat back and crossed his arms.

"You're not fine, Chris. What's wrong?"

Chris quickly stood and began to pace. The wind had begun to howl outside and Jon could see the naked tree branches sway from side to side in front of a heavily laden grey sky. He had never seen Chris behave like this. It seemed as if the built-up frustrations of weeks were boiling over.

"I'm fucking in love, okay?" He held his arms out to his sides and then let them drop, looking more disconsolate than ever. The words struck Jon like a cold slap across the cheek.

"That's what's the matter, and I can't do a god damn thing about it." He paused a second and then pivoted back to face Jon. "Nothing!" He lowered his voice as he walked back to the dining table, and laughed, a tired sort of laugh that was no relation to humor.

"You wanna hear something funny? I don't even know what city he lives in, or even if it's in this country. I don't know anything . . . except I can't think of anything else but him. I feel as if I'm going crazy." He ran his fingers through his hair and then knuckled his eyes. "How can I be in love with someone when I don't even know where they live? Wouldn't you have thought I would ask?" His voice had begun to rise as he continued to pace.

"Nope, not me. I was so wrapped up in living out a fantasy that I didn't even think!" He gave another, tired laugh. "At least I know his name. That's something, I guess."

"I went to school with him. Actually, I went to the same school he did." He shook his head and rubbed his temples. "Whatever." He paced to the opposite end of the room and then turned back. Jon wasn't watching him. He was staring at an invisible speck on the dining table.

"I lived next door to him . . . for a whole year. I remember the first time I saw him. He and his roommate were going into their room as I was coming out of mine. I had just moved into the dorm. School had just started and I found my room to be a complete mess. I had cleaned the place and was hauling out a bunch of junk. I was trying to make it through the door with those bags full of shit before that thing which closes a door did its thing, and I dropped something. I was so loaded down I couldn't pick it up. In fact, I probably wouldn't have even realized I dropped anything if it hadn't made a clanging noise as it hit the tile floor." He made a face as he stopped pacing. "I always hated those tile floors. So cold." He glanced outside the large dining room window at the wind-driven snow. He shivered and then seemed to think a moment before he continued his story.

"Brian made some sort of joke and bent down to pick up whatever it was I had dropped. All I saw was this gorgeous guy with black hair and rosy cheeks with a flashing smile, and I knew it then. I was in love. Zap, like some demented Cupid hovering nearby, shot me in the ass with an arrow."

"Anyhow, Brian saw I couldn't handle one more thing so he told his roommate he'd be back, and he took a big bag of stuff from me. What was I doing all this time? I was staring, dumbfounded at the sight of the man in front of me. He introduced himself, and I guess I managed to stammer out my name because I remember him calling me by the right one. So . . . we walked down to the trash dumpster together. Some start to a romance, don't you think?"

"I knew it then, Jon. I knew I was in love, but I didn't even know if he was gay!" Chris found his voice had risen until he was almost shouting. He paused a second to try and calm himself a little.

"Well, he was, and he was in love with his roommate, Eric." Chris perched on the back of a dining chair with his back to Jon. "It sounds like some sort of fucking television soap opera, doesn't it?" He looked over his shoulder. Jon had scooted his chair back and was picking at an imaginary speck of lint on his slacks.

Chris propelled himself off the chair and began pacing.

"Well, we ran into one another when I was on vacation. His lover had just died and he was there trying to have a good time. It wasn't working for him." Chris sagged into his chair. "Jon, I stayed with him, and I love him more than ever." Chris leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table, resting his head. "I'm going crazy because I want to be with him so badly." He sat back and gave his roommate a strange look.

"What's wrong?" Jon shrugged, but wouldn't meet Chris' eyes.

"Does he love you?" There was something strange in the tone of Jon's voice. Chris studied him for a moment and couldn't figure what might be the trouble.

"He says he does." Chris leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and stretched his legs out in front of him. "No, I know he does. He tells me every day . . . by email. Jon, what's going on?"

"Chris, if he loves you, it makes you one very popular guy."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Chris leaned forward and studied the man across the table from him.

"Oh . . . holy shit." He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, his arms hanging limply at his sides. "Don't tell me."

Jon bowed his head and nodded. "Yep, me too. In fact, I had convinced myself the reason you were behaving strangely was because you didn't know how to tell me you loved me!" He chuckled. "Shows how deluded I was. I came home early to talk to you and ask if we could try and start again." Jon's voice was soft as he spoke. "I know I haven't been a very good partner for the last few years. I could give you all sorts of reasons, none of which would mean a whole lot, now."

Chris covered his face with his hands and then reached for Jon's hand. "I'm so sorry, Jon. I didn't know how you felt. We've gone on like roommates for so long that's how I started thinking of you. I've not been fair to you, and now I've hurt you as well." He turned aside and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and bowed his head.

"So, now we're all miserable as hell." He sat up and reached for Jon's hand once again.

"Please, Jon. Believe me when I tell you I had no idea how you felt. If I had, I wouldn't have been raving about being in love with someone."

"But, it wouldn't have changed how you feel . . . about me . . . would it?" Chris paused a moment and then slowly shook his bowed head.

"No, not really." He turned away. "Damn, a few minutes ago I felt like shit. Now I feel like I am shit. I never intended to hurt you, Jon, can you believe me?" Jon looked at Chris with a wistful smile and nodded.

"I know you too well Chris, to ever think you'd knowingly do something to hurt me."

But I have, haven't I?" Jon shrugged.

"Some, but I'll get over it. It doesn't look like you're about ready to get over your feelings for this guy though."

Chris shook his head. "I doubt it."

Jon suddenly stood and went into the kitchen taking a beer out of the refrigerator. He took a long drink before turning back to Chris.

"Well then, what are we going to do to see that you're happy?" He sat down and looked at Chris with an inquiring expression.

"How difficult do you think it would be for you to get another job? You need to find out where this guy lives and if he's as miserable without you as you are without him. Then, you both need to figure out what you've got to do to get together and find some happiness." He took a long swallow of his beer, glancing over the rim of the bottle at the man he had always thought of as a lover.

"You certainly can't go moping around here all the time. I'm tired of looking at your sad face."

"Jon . . . " Chris began, holding his arms open. His partner put out a hand to stop him.

"Chris . . . please . . . don't. I'm holding myself together with everything I have. Don't . . . try and . . . hold me . . . please." Jon stared at the floor as he spoke.

Chris lowered his hands and bowed his head looking totally miserable.

"Chris, stop looking like the world is going to end. It won't, not for you, or for me. All of us are faced with disappointments once in a while. We all get over them and go on. That's what I'm going to do, so don't feel bad for me . . . please." He moved back a few steps and then picked up his briefcase as if it stored some extra resolve.

"Chris, I want you to do whatever will make you happy. Contact your friend an do something. Don't just sit around and wish for things to happen. He may be doing the same thing, and if no one takes the first step, neither of you will be happy."

He turned and walked down the hall to his office shouting over his shoulder. "Go, email him, and you guys figure out something to make yourselves happy." The door to Jon's office closed and Chris slumped into his favorite leather chair, resting his head on the chair's back. Outside, it was getting dark. That, combined with the howling of the wind and the snow caused him to shiver . . . and imagine snuggling with Brian to keep him warm.

From: Chris Loughlin Subject: I've been kicked in the butt Date: November 18, 2006 To: Brian Winslow

Hey Brian,

The wind is howling, the house is creaking, and the snow is falling horizontally. If you haven't guessed by now, we're having an old fashioned Nebraska blizzard, and I am freezing my cute little butt off wishing you were here to keep me warm. Nah, I DON'T wish you were here. I wish I were wherever YOU are. It has got to be better than here. BTW. Where do you live?

Remember me telling you I can't seem to take action on something until I'm kicked in the butt? Well . . . Jon kicked me in the butt. Unfortunately, I also feel as if I've been kicked in the stomach.

Brian, he says he LOVES me! I never would have guessed. Here I was, telling him about how much I love you, and all the time I was hurting him. Geez, I feel awful. The poor guy. Right now, he's in his office with the door closed.

Anyway . . . he kicked me in the pants. (figuratively) No one touches my butt but YOU. Well, he (Jon) almost ordered me to contact you to see if we can work out something where we can be together. Imagine! The man who just told me he loves me is trying to figure out how you and I can be together! He told me not to feel bad for him, so I'm going to do my best to not let him see how badly I DO feel.

Brian, I love you. If possible, I love you more now than when we parted back in October. I want to be with you. I NEED to be with you. . . BADLY. I'll move to wherever you are. (I hope it's not too awful a place) You can move here. Nah, scratch that idea. We can move someplace totally new. I'm an engineer. Someone always needs an engineer, so I can get a job wherever we end up.

Brian, I want so much to be with you. I was thinking a few minutes ago how wonderful it would be if you were here right now so we could snuggle in my big old bed while the wind blows and the house gets buried by snow drifts. I bet we'd be able to come up with a few ways to keep warm.

By any chance do you live someplace that doesn't get too cold and icy, and where it doesn't snow too often?

Jon told me neither of us, meaning you and me, will be happy unless one of us takes the first step and does something that will allow us to be together. I've taken the first step. The next step is yours.

All right, I admit it. . . . I A M H O R N Y ! ! I miss the sex, but I also miss your smile and your eyes, the feel of you on top of me, or in me, or filling my mouth with your sperm. Yeah, I even miss that frown of yours. I love all of you. Chris

From Brian Winslow Subject: Hi lover Date: November 18, 2006 To: Chris Loughlin

Your poor roommate!

It's snowing here too! Denver's as cold as Nebraska. Let's move someplace with palm trees. There, I've given my answer. Let's do it. I want to be with you soon. I can get out of my place quick. A Realtor friend can sell it for me.

Nebraska's not THAT far from Denver. Maybe you could come here for Christmas or something, or maybe before, hint, hint.

I've been going through the house and getting rid of stuff. Mostly Eric's things. I've been doing a lot of crying because everything holds a memory. Before I met you, I would have been depressed. Now, I'm happy Eric and I had a few years together. Yeah, I still cry, but they're good tears.

His parents and brother and sister are taking a lot of his things. I'm keeping the stuff that was important to him or to the two of us. That's one of the things I love about you, Chris. You're not asking that I forget about Eric. I can't do that. I don't want to do that. He will always be a part of me, but that part is in the past. I would love to have YOU in my future. I feel Eric would want the same thing for me. After all, we know he approved of your legs. If he'd seen the rest . . . well, let's just say, what size g-string did you say you were wearing? And your BUTT!!!

Now, I'm hard. See what the mere thought of you does to me? If you were here I'd ask you to squat on it and do that thing you do with your butt muscles. Damn, it felt like I was being milked. And it was great how you licked off all the juices that covered my dick after I pulled out of you . . . Geez. It was awesome watching you lick all the sperm off my cock and feeling you suck on my balls, and tongue my hole.

I never thought my own stuff would taste so good as when you sat on my face and I licked you clean of all my jiz that was oozing out. Damn, Chris, You've got such a fuckin' sexy butt hole. The rest of you is pretty easy on the eyes too.

And your cum tastes so sweet. I loved it when you shot in my mouth and then we kissed and shared your sperm.

Did I mention how good you are at fucking? Yeah, I know I did, but I can't tell you often enough. You're GOOD. Must be those strong butt muscles. (I always heard farm boys knew how to milk, but I had no idea THAT'S what people were talking about!) Afterward, I felt like I was walking around with a butt plug stuffed up my hole. Damn, you know how to work a guy over. A jumbo sized butt plug.

I know I've told you all of this before, but damn it, Chris . . .

Chris, I want the two of us to be happy. I hate rattling around alone in this house. Having you hundreds of miles away is not good. I dream of us being together and laughing, and other stuff. Chris, I want to hold you so bad I hurt. I'll go anywhere and do anything. As long as I'm with you. Where I am and what I'm doing isn't important. Loving you and knowing you love me, is what matters most.

I'm glad your roommate kicked you in the butt. If I was there right now, I'd lick it and make it better. Remember, I'm a butt man. But then, I'm sure you remembered THAT.

Be safe and stay warm. I love you more every day. Soon, I hope to be able and demonstrate how much. I want to hold you so badly.

Love and deep kisses,

Brian

To: Chris Loughlin Subject: What's happening? Date: December 21, 2006 From: Brian Winslow

Chris, are you okay? I haven't heard from you in two days. Are you buried up to your hairy armpits in a snow drift? Geez, what a thought. I miss hearing you say you love me, and no one answers your phone so I'm sitting here needing to be told you're okay, and that I'm loved and you're the only one I want to hear it from, so call me, Mr. Farm Boy. I want to hear your voice.

I love you,

Brian

PS Have you found out if you're going to get some time off to come to Denver for New Year's? I hope so. I miss you. B

"Where are you going to move, Brian?" Gene Phillips, Brian's Realtor sat across from the dining table stuffing papers into his briefcase. Brian's answer was delayed when Eric's sister slammed the front door and audibly shivered with a theatrical flair that suited her vocal personality.

"It's starting to snow again, Brian," she said, sticking her head around the corner into the dining room. "This will be my last trip today. Besides, the car is full." Brian stood and kissed her on the cheek. She blushed, always pleased when Brian paid attention to her. She hugged him briefly, waved to Gene, and then hurried to pick up another box of things and get home before the storm got too bad.

"I don't know where I'm going to end up, Gene," Brian said, retaking his seat across from the Realtor. I just know Chris and I want to be together, and I . . . I can't be with him . . . here, where Eric and I lived." He glanced around the room. "I don't know. I just wouldn't feel . . . right about it. And besides, I think Chris and I would like a place that is ours, rather than sharing one where Eric and I once lived together. I'm staying here until after Christmas and then we're scheduled to meet someplace and figure things out." Brian was quiet for a few moments while Gene organized something in his briefcase. When Gene closed the case Brian added in a slightly worried voice.

"I haven't heard from him now in a couple days. That's not like him. He would always email or call a couple times a day. I hope he's okay." Gene patted Brian's hand.

"Don't worry, guy. You're only borrowing trouble for no reason. I'm sure he's fine." Gene got a concerned look on his face. "I'm thinking that you may be moving too fast with things though. I mean, contemplating quitting your job and moving to some unknown destination with a guy you spent less than a week with . . . bothers me."

"You think you'll truly be happy? This isn't a rebound or anything, is it?"

Brian laughed and slowly shook his head. "No, I love him, Gene. Without a doubt, just as I loved Eric. Now, what else do you have for me to sign?"

"Brian," Eric's sister called from the entry. "I'm heading out. See ya. Oh yeah, there's some weirdo here to see you. Bye." He heard the door slam and he gave Gene a puzzled look.

"I can't imagine who." He stood and walked into the living room. Gene watched him take a single step into the room and stop.

"Merry Christmas, Brian." Chris stood a couple steps inside the front door, the shoulders of his navy blue coat and red scarf wrapping his neck flecked with snow, and a couple carry-on bags bulging with their contents at his feet. The big red bow which perched atop his head was secured with a ribbon tied beneath his chin. He was smiling his brightest smile.

"I decided to give you your Christmas present early." He held his arms wide. "Here it is. Me! I'm yours, and you can't send me back." The smile faded, his chin started to tremble, and tears began to trail over his cheeks.

"Oh, Brian . . ." he choked, as Brian ran across the living room and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

"I've missed you so much." While they were kissing, curiosity got the best of Gene and he looked around the corner. "I never want to be away from you again."

When their lips parted Brian moved back slightly, looking closely at the man he held. He tenderly ran his fingers over Chris' cheek before leaning close to kiss him once more.

After a few moments, Gene cleared his throat and brought Brian back to the present. He brushed the tears out of his eyes with one hand, and continued to hold Chris close to his side with the other while Chris wiped his eyes and sniffed. He pulled the ribbon off his head and smiled at the newcomer.

"Gene," Brian said, holding out his hand, inviting him to come closer. "I'd like you to meet Chris, the man I love." He turned to Chris. "Chris, this is Gene, my Realtor." Chris couldn't stop the tears from falling. He held out his hand and sniffed.

"Nice to meet you." Sniff. "I don't normally cry when I meet people." He hiccoughed, chuckled, and sniffed once more. "Seeing Brian again has sorta gotten to me." Gene smiled and shook Chris' hand and reached out to squeeze Brian's shoulder.

"It's my pleasure, Chris. You're all Brian ever talks about. Now, I can see why he's so taken with you." He turned and took the few steps to where his coat was draped over a chair. He slipped it on and picked up his briefcase. "I was just going. I'm sure you both will have a Merry Christmas. I don't think I need to urge you to start celebrating as soon as I leave, do I?" He smiled as he patted Brian on the shoulder once more, and winked at Chris before he closed the door, stepping out into the cold.

"Stop here!" Chris looked over his shoulder and pointed to the small shopping center. Brian pulled the car into the parking lot without question and gave Chris a puzzled look. The moment the car was parked, he jumped out. "I'll be right back. Don't leave without me." He raised his arm in the air and waved as he jumped a thawing puddle and then skirted a patch of ice. Brian watched him disappear into a store, wondering at Chris' energy and endless enthusiasm.

'Tonight,' he promised himself. 'We have to get a full night's sleep.' He yawned and leaned his head back against the headrest. It seemed only moments later and Chris was opening the car door carrying a large bouquet of flowers.

"Here," he said, thrusting the flowers into Brian's hand. "I need to fasten my seat belt." There was a click, and then he turned and retrieved the flowers. Brian was watching him with watery eyes.

"Now, don't start crying. These aren't for you." He smiled, completely aware that Brian knew who the flowers were for. "I take flowers every time I'm being introduced to someone important." Brian cleared his throat and continued to watch Chris.

"I'm ready," Chris announced, turning to him. "We can go now." Brian shook his head in wonder and pulled back onto the street. They drove on in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

"This will be the last time I'll be able to do this on Christmas Eve," Brian said, stopping the car and hesitating a few moments before standing up and closing the door.

"Why?" Chris walked around the car and took his hand. "I'd like to come back here every Christmas Eve, to pay our respects." Brian bit his lip and nodded, unable to speak as Chris squeezed his hand.

"I'm here. You'll be okay." Brian nodded and they began walking across the frozen grass. Much of the snow had melted, so Brian had no trouble finding what he was looking for.

"Here," he said, kneeling down and wiping the snow off of Eric's grave marker. Chris silently stood at his side with a hand resting on Brian's shoulder as Brian knelt on both knees, and silently cried. A couple times, Brian would reach out and tenderly caress the marker, tracing his fingers over Eric's name.

Finally, Chris could stand it no longer. He knelt at Brian's side, ignoring the wet grass, and pulled Brian close, patting his back while Brian cried on his shoulder.

When it seemed as if Brian had cried himself out, Chris gave him a handkerchief. "Wipe your eyes, then blow your nose." Brian followed his orders and turned back to Chris.

"Introduce us, Brian."

Brian swallowed around the lump in his throat and wiped his eyes once more before looking at the grave marker.

"Eric . . . my love." His voice caught, but after a moment he continued. "You remember Chris, the crazy guy who lived next to us in the dorm. Remember? He's the guy with the great legs." Brian chuckled slightly. "Well . . . he and I are going to live with one another now. He's a wonderful man, and I love him very much." Brian sniffed. "Thank you Eric . . . for continuing to love me, and for giving Chris and me your blessing." Brian kissed the tips of his fingers and then leaned forward and gently brushed them across Eric's name. He compressed his lips and looked at Chris, his eyes red from crying, and his normally rosy cheeks, blotchy.

"Hi Eric," Chris began. He looked at the flowers in his hand and then at the grave marker. "These are for you. I've been told you loved roses, and I wanted to have something to give you for Christmas." Chris laid the flowers next to Eric's name.

He paused a long moment. It was as if he were listening to something in the sound of the breeze moving through the nearby pine trees. "You don't have to worry. I love him more than I can express." He paused once more. "I'll take good care of him." Chris audibly swallowed and put an arm around Brian. "Thank you, Eric. Merry Christmas."

~ The End ~

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

I would appreciate hearing any comments you may have, and if you would like a pic of the men who inspired the characters, please ask.

If you enjoyed this chapter, you may also like to read my other stories, also in the Nifty College Section. They're entitled, 'Phalen,' and 'Leith.'

Roy Reinikainen

roynm@mac.com