This story is fiction any similarities between persons either living or dead is purely coincidental (although any good writer will write what he knows). This is a story that deals with male-to-male relationships as well as homosexual sex. If this offends you or is illegal in your location please do not read any further. This statement releases me the author and the site wherein this story is posted from any legal action. Copyright 2000 by Patrick Sean Purdy.
Chapter 16: New Year's in New York
I took Brandon's luggage up to the guest room and showed him where everything was. It was getting to be mid-afternoon and we needed to head out soon, so we both showered. Brandon insisted that he shower in the guest bath and that I shower in my bathroom. I tried to protest and tell him that we wouldn't have much privacy besides this until we returned to Florida, but he didn't even want to entertain the idea of someone walking in on us. Sometimes, he is just too damn sensible, but I agreed.
We both showered and dressed, me grabbing my clothes out of the dryer, just as it was finishing up. Much to my chagrin, the washer and dryer were located right next to the guest room, and I was able to steal a glance at my man wrapped only in a towel. I really loved that view. I was beginning to wish we were back in Florida and the weather was warmer, because I knew he would look fabulous in some of those nice swim trunks that IM advertised.
I couldn't help myself; I walked slowly into the room, wearing only my trousers, and walked up behind Brandon wrapping my arms around him.
"Hey babe," he said, "What do you think you're doing? You've got to get ready too." I didn't answer directly. I just started planting kisses on his shoulder, working my way along to the back of his neck. From there I kept kissing up to the side of his neck. Brandon let out a soft moan and leaned his head back making my task easier.
He moved his arms back and started caressing the outsides of my thighs as I continued to kiss him softly working my way up his neck towards his ear. His raised his arms and started caressing my sides just above my waist. Brandon knew this was a sensitive spot and I shivered at his soft touch.
In return I took his earlobe in between my lips and ran my tongue across it. I knew this was one of Brandon's big turn-ons, so when his hands clenched my ass I wasn't too surprised. I was turned on immensely, but I knew we didn't have time for that, instead I started to lean forward more. Brandon noticed and turned around to face me as much as he could. We kissed as if we hadn't kissed in a decade, our mouths pressed together, both hard and soft. I simply held Brandon closer to me and he held me closer to him as we continued our kiss.
He turned to face me after a few moments and placed my face in his hands as he started to kiss me once again. He removed his hands and put his arms around me as he started to trail his kiss towards my neck. When he reached my shoulder he just kissed it once and held him self there, just laying his head on my shoulder holding me tightly in his embrace. I moved my right arm around his back and my left hand held his head, playing with his hair. We simply stood there for a few minutes not saying anything, but communicating so much.
"I'm so happy you're here with me Bran," I said softly. I wasn't just talking about him being in New York. I was talking about him being in my life right then. Brandon knew how I meant it too.
"You're not the only one," he whispered, "I'm glad you're in my life as well." He hugged me tightly one more time and then held me at arms length and said, "Well, we're gonna be late. Let's get dressed."
"Agreed."
We met up with my friends, making introductions as we came together, and all of us headed to the station. We took the LIRR into the city. Brandon couldn't help but stare in awe as we exited Penn Station and right into the heart of Manhattan.
"Close your mouth bran," I said as I looked at him, "I'm sure you have tall buildings in Harrisburg."
"Yeah, but not this tall. This is amazing and they're all tall here. Movies don't do this place justice."
"OK," my friend Jason piped up, "What's the plan? Do we want to eat and then drink or just drink?"
Lori and Kathy both admitted that they were hungry and would like to eat first. The guys kind of just rolled their eyes to the back of their heads.
It was decided that we would walk up 7th Avenue towards Times Square and find a small place for the girls to grab a bite and then we'd start in on the bars.
About half of us were of age, the others had fake IDs. I wasn't sure what Brandon had if anything, and I asked him about it. He told me that he didn't have a fake ID, but that it wasn't necessary; he was planning on charming his way to alcoholic bliss.
Normally, I'd say that in New York City, on New Year's Eve, charming a bartender would be downright impossible. After all, they're gonna get a lot of legal business, so they don't need to take chances that night. However, something told me that if anyone could simply talk his way into a drink, than Brandon could.
When we came to the first bar, I knew Brandon would have no problem getting served that night. He walked up to the bar, never flinched, caught the attention of the female bartender and smiled as he ordered a Bacardi & Coke. He ordered that drink as if he had ordered it a thousand times. The bartender started to ask for ID and then she just flashed a smile and said, "OK."
I was a little surprised to realise that I didn't really know Brandon's drinking habits. We'd had wine with dinner or at home; we'd drank beer while hanging out; but we never really went bar drinking. I guess I never suggested that as a date because he was underage and because he worked in clubs so much. That was the other thing, Brandon didn't drink while he was on the job. As a DJ he gets comp drinks, but I noticed he usually bought drinks for his friends and stuck to bottled water all night.
The evening progressed as we hopped from bar to bar towards Times Square, where the crowds were growing thicker. We'd just been drinking and talking to each other about nothing in particular. Just wandering from subject to subject, and switching conversation partners every so often. Brandon got along with everyone and was having as good a time as any of us had since our Junior year of High School, when we began this tradition.
By the time it was 11:30pm, we were all in the heart of Times Square and we were all pretty drunk. It was freezing, and even though we'd all drank, we were still cold. Brandon and I huddled close together to keep warm, while the guys and girls did the same.
Brandon was standing in front of me facing in the same direction, both of us looking up towards the ball which would soon drop. I put my hands in the pockets of my overcoat and wrapped my arms around Brandon hugging him to me and bringing him inside my coat.
"Are you having a good time," I asked.
"The best."
"Good." I put my chin on his shoulder and just stayed there thinking how perfect everything seemed to be. If happiness was an object to be found, than I had found it. If happiness was a feeling to have and to cherish, than I would remember this feeling forever.
"Evan," Brandon whispered questioningly.
"Yeah, Bran?"
"Never mind."
"Brandon, you know I hate that. What were you gonna say?"
"Oh, just that I'm really enjoying myself, and I wanted to thank you. So, thank you Evan."
"I should be the one thanking you. I do this every year, but I've never been so happy doing it."
"Look Ev, a minute left."
We both looked up as the final minute of 1997 slowly washed away, my head perched on his shoulder. I gave Brandon a quick peck on the cheek. The great thing about being in New York City was that we could be two men, being this intimate, and there was less fear of persecution. I wasn't worried about what those around us though, I was simply comfortable with him.
The seconds ticked away and soon the entire of new York was chanting, "Ten, nine, eight . . . three, two, one! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!" At that moment, my friends, Brandon and I started jumping up and down, giving each other high-fives, hugs, quick pecks, then I turned and looked at Brandon.
Time stopped just seconds into the New Year. Brandon and I looked at each other and grabbed for one another. Instinctively, we both reached up and placed our hands on the back of each others heads, pulling ourselves into a slow long kiss. It felt like that first kiss. The butterflies in my stomach, the electricity coursing through my body, the way I knew that he was my match. All those little things I'd felt here and there, but hadn't spoken; they were all in that kiss.
It seemed to continue forever and I couldn't hear a thing around me even though there were a million people screaming, shouting, and hollering. There was an energy all around us of excitement and happiness, but it was nothing compared to the energy I felt deep inside of me caused by Brandon.
We finally, broke the kiss, and started at each other. He said my name at the same time his name passed my lips, then at the exact same moment we said, "I love you."
His eyes grew wide, be it from realizing what he said or hearing me repeat the same thing, or a combination of both.
I stared at Brandon in complete shock of the moment. I'd been feeling so much in the last month that I wasn't sure where it would all come to. Now that moment was here and I said those three words and heard them from my lovers lips as well.
Brandon started to cry a little and grabbed me by my jacket pulling me to him. He hugged me as his tears turned to sobs. I just held him as he held onto me tightly, shaking as we embraced. Then I heard him break his sobs trying to speak.
"Thank...you," he said between sobs, "I was...so...scared...to say...those things." Brandon took a deep breath and calmed down. He was still crying a bit and I had started crying too. Then he continued, "I was afraid if I said that, that you'd be scared off. Then you said it too and I was so relieved, so in awe."
"Brandon, I know exactly how you feel," I told him, "I've been on a roller coaster of emotion since we've been together and I didn't know how to express it, how to tell you."
"Evan, you always know the right thing to do, the right thing to say, how could you not know how to express it?"
"Well, you're always so calm and cool. I know you have feelings for me, but I know that I've presented some identity problems. I see the way that you try and keep things on an even flow because of that. I felt that I'd be rushing you with my emotions when you weren't ready."
"So, we were both projecting walls. Evan, that's not fair to either of us." With that Brandon grabbed me and kissed me again.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed for all of it to transpire, but Jason had practically tackled Brandon and I as he said. "Come on. We've waited long enough for the two of you." Brandon and I started following the group, our arms wrapped around each other.
Chapter 17: Family
I awoke on January 1st around 12:30 in the afternoon. It took me another ten minutes to roll out of bed. I wasn't hung over, but I wasn't feeling very good either. I walked into my bathroom and brushed my teeth. Then, I pulled on my boxers and crept down to the guest bedroom. I slowly opened the door and peered in.
"Looking for something?" I turned and there was Brandon at the top of the stairs in his boxers.
"Well," I confessed, " I was looking for you."
"Sorry, I'm not in there."
"I noticed. How long have you been up?"
"I woke up about two hours ago. I've been watching you sleep off and on. I must say, Evan, it was quite a beautiful sight; especially when the sheets slipped off of you and exposed your nakedness to me."
"I smiled at him saying, " Well, if you're up, I might as well go take my shower." Brandon pouted and walked towards me.
"I don't think so Evan," he said, "I didn't watch you sleep for two hours for nothing. You at least owe me a kiss."
We embraced for a very long kiss. I was beginning to really enjoy this, and it would make an excellent morning ritual. In the back of my mind I heard a door open down the hall.
"Oh my God," I heard my sister exclaim, "That is so cool!" With those words the kiss was ended quite abruptly.
"Good morning, Julie," I said.
"Morning."
"Brandon," I continued, "This is my sister Julie. Julie, this is my boyfriend Brandon."
Julie extended her hand and said, "Cool. Pleased to meet you Brandon." They shook hands and Brandon expressed similar sentiments.
"So, Evan," Julie questioned, "Mom and Dad told me he'd be here, but I thought they were pulling my leg. I guess they weren't and I guess that means that you really are gay, right?"
"Jul," I explained, "Of course it's true. Do you honestly thing I'd go through all of this for some kind of practical joke?"
"No, but this just didn't seem real until now. After all, you're Evan, the perfect older brother; you're supposed to get married have the kids, the pets, the house, and live the American Family Dream."
"Well, I will be living the American Family Dream; it's just that 'family' will have a different meaning to it." I grabbed Brandon's hand, which was waiting for mine, and smiled at him.
"That's cool too than."
"I'm glad you approve Jul," I said with a wry smile playing across my lips.
That afternoon Brandon and I hung out around the house. Julie asked him a thousand questions and wanted to know everything about my boyfriend. He told her everything she wanted to know and Julie and I told him stories about our growing up.
As the afternoon progressed, I started to realise that my parents would soon be home. Soon, the informal type of questioning that Julie gave Brandon would occur again, but this time more like a third degree. My parents would want to know all about Brandon and to be able to approve of him.
I got scared, this wasn't fair to Brandon. I wanted to rush him out the back door and to the airport. I looked over at him laughing with my sister. How could he sit there so cool and calm talking to Julie? Didn't he know the interrogation that was coming? Didn't he realise what was at stake? Then it was too late . . . I heard the car pull into the driveway.
"Well," I said, "Here goes nothing."
"What are you talking about," Brandon asked.
"My mother is home, so now you're gonna have to face the third degree."
"Evan," my sister asked, "What the hell are you talking about? Brandon is so cool, and Mom loves everybody anyway. Mom has never given anybody the third degree. What's wrong with you? You look sick."
"Yeah," I said calming down a bit, "I'm not sure what I'm thinking don't pay any attention to me."
"I never do," Brandon said. I put on a pouty face at that remark and he quickly recovered. "OK, I pay some attention to you, babe." I smiled. At that moment my mother entered the front door.
"Jesus, it's cold out there," she said from the foyer. I got up to greet her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. OK, so I'm a bit of a "momma's boy;" that might be one reason she knew I was gay.
"Good afternoon. Did you have a good time last night?"
"The best Mom," I told her, "We didn't wake you getting in so late did we?"
"No, your father and I sleep through anything," she answered, "So, where is the mysterious man?"
"I'm right here Mrs. Tramore," Brandon said from the doorway, extending his hand, "Pleased to meet you."
"Very nice to meet you as well Brandon; and call me Betty."
"I think I'll stick with Mrs. Tramore for now."
"All right, but you'll have to change that sooner or later."
"Deal," Brandon agreed, "Come sit and relax, I was just chatting with your daughter about the things her and Evan did growing up here."
"Oh, getting all the family dirt, were you?" I couldn't believe how easy Brandon was with my mother. We all walked into the living room. My mother curled up on the couch, slipping off her shoes and kicking them under the coffee table.
We all sat there talking and laughing, just talking away the time. At one point we were all laughing so hard, that none of us heard my father come in. He must've been listening for a few minutes.
"So," he said, "We're not going to have to throw him out Betty?" We looked towards the doorway and saw my father, leaning against the jamb, with a grin on his face.
"No," Mom replied, "He's a nice boy." Brandon jumped up and shook my fathers hand.
"Pleased to meet you Sir, I'm Brandon."
"Good handshake Brandon," my father remarked. I wasn't sure what he meant by it. Dad was the one that was having the hardest time adjusting to my announcement. His comment good have been a compliment, or it could have been a polite way of saying that he was happy I wasn't dating a fairy. My father was like that, his statements always lent themselves to two meanings; one pleasant and polite, the other biting and sarcastic. "Drop the 'Sir' bit," my father continued, "I'm John."
"Well, maybe in time," Brandon answered.
We decided to order in dinner and my parents took the evening to get to know Brandon. My mother loved him. I think she did from the moment in the foyer. He had that way with women I noticed. Which is why he got along so well with Julie. The part that surprised me was his easy manner with my father.
I know that Dad wanted the best for me. So, every question he asked Brandon was because he wanted to make sure that I wasn't selling myself short. He wanted to know that being straight or gay, I wasn't going to put myself in the position of supporting someone else at the cost of losing my own opportunities. My father didn't know I'd been down this road with Brandon.
Brandon handled Dad like a pro. He didn't resent my father for the questions he was asked. Instead, later, he admitted that he was happy for me; happy that I had parents that cared that much.
As the evening progressed, even my father was smiling and laughing, and I knew that Brandon was truly welcome in our home. I went to sleep that evening happier than I had believed possible. It just seemed that every time something had gone right with Brandon, and I felt that I was the happiest I could ever be, he would show me the next level.
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