Waiting for a Miracle

WAITING FOR A MIRACLE

By Donny Mumford

Chapter 18 'on The Same Page'

It's not as though Mickey and I resolved anything Tuesday afternoon. Not really. All we did was rehash our main complaints. Well, not 'complaints' exactly. More like personality quirks that bother the other; to wit, Mickey claims I'm childish at times and I need to grow up, while I feel Mickey is too bossy with me. That was the gist of it.

No one had ever told me I'm childish until Mickey, but then no one has known me as intimately as he has or spent the time Mickey's spent with me or loved me the way he does. As for Mickey, he's never had the opportunity to be bossy with anyone before me. So, yeah, we restated 'concerns' Tuesday although neither of us said anything about changing our ways, and then we had the hottest sex we've ever had. That's probably the reason I slept so well last night.

No, I don't like that he thinks I'm childish and, for the most part, I don't think I am. I do admit to being naive about some things. Ya know, about social relationships, as well as a few other things, but that is mostly because of my Aspergers. I have mixed feelings about mentioning my Aspergers to Mickey because it's embarrassing being labeled autistic. On the other hand, it would partly explain what he perceives as my childish behavior. Or, it might sound like an excuse, so I'm not sure what I should do.

As for Mickey being too bossy; well, he is... haha. I brought it up to him as a counterpoint to his contention I'm childish, although his bossiness is not a 'major' problem for me. Assuming he doesn't get much bossier, I'm okay with it. The secret truth is, it's kinda 'hot' to be bossed around by this smallish guy who I considered to be a dork until recently. Yes, he was dorky until I got to know him, and now, ta-da, he's telling me what to do. Heh-heh, weird, huh?

Anyway, in his defense, I've probably been giving him mixed signals because he can tell I like it when I've pleased him. For example, I like doing oral sex on him, and especially when I can take his cock in my throat because he likes that so much, but I please him in other ways too. And, I've rarely pushed back at doing what he says, so it's understandable he'd assume I don't mind him telling me what I need to do, and, I've repeatedly told him he's our leader, which infers a bit of bossiness I suppose. Anyway, so what if he's bossy? I'll continue doing a balancing act, willing to lean more toward accepting his bossiness than not, while at the same time, I hope this current level of bossiness is the extent of it.

I've never felt emotions for anyone like I feel for Mickey, so it would take a helluva lot more than a little bossiness from him before I'd give up our relationship. I can't even imagine what my life would be like without him in it; not now I can't. So, you may ask, why the hell I mentioned bossiness to him in the first place? It's because he called me childish, and being a bit childish, I snapped back, accusing him of being bossy. Weak, but that's what I did...

Thinking these thoughts, I'm lying on my bed Wednesday after work while Mickey's at his dance class. I've no desire to see who is hanging out at the park or the bowling alley, or anywhere else. I'm not motivated to do anything without Mickey. Oddly, our argument Monday night may have increased my feelings for him instead of the other way around. I admire his, um, sternness, his unwillingness to abandon his, um, 'something.' Haha, I don't know exactly what it is he's stern about, but I like it anyway. The only thing that hurt me was when he said I disappointed him. I don't want to disappoint him.

And, I've been impressed how week after week, Mickey gotten better and better with his social interaction skills, and I mean with everyone, not just with me. Plus, he's changed his appearance a hundred-and-eighty-degree for the better. Yeah, he's looking good. Hell, and everything we do still feels new and exciting, so, yeah, I'm a monster 'fan' of Mickey.

I say that even though he apparently isn't as impressed by me as I am by him, but then, I've haven't made improvement strides to the degree he has. I'm much better interacting with him, but I'm pretty much the same socially-challenged guy with everyone else. Not a lot of improvement there except I do get along great with Bobby. He makes it easy by being super friendly to me. Other of my fellow employees, well, I barely speak to them; nothing has changed there.

I can't help thinking back weeks ago when Mickey told me how he's been wondering which of us would develop the bigger crush on the other, thinking it would be him for me. That's what he said, but the opposite is what happened. My fascination with Mickey has grown to the point I almost idolizing him, which is a bit childish of me, but... And, another thing, it's weird too that I was the one who poo-pooed the idea of 'love' when Mickey said the word 'love' after our first date. Then I was like, "Get fuckin' real!" Now I mention the 'L' word more often than he does.

My musings are interrupted by a text message 'ping' on my phone? Jumping off the bed, I get my phone off the desk, knowing the text will be from Mickey, and it is. I read, 'Burke, wassup? Are we still on for tonight?'

Is he fuckin' kidding? Of course, we are!

After all my recent musings about how fantastic Mickey has become, and how devoted I've become to him, I'm also aware I need to temper my enthusiasm for him, bring it down a little. If I don't, I'll come off like a childish dork gushing my praises for my hero. I need to be slightly blase with my text response. Texting something like, 'I can barely wait to see you 'cause I'm so in love with you I can't breathe.' A 'gushing' text like should be avoided, although it's how I feel. Instead, I text, 'Well, yeah, we're still on tonight. I'll be over at 7 unless something comes up '.

See, that text doesn't sound as if I'm desperate to see him although I admit to myself that I've become pathetically needy for Mickey's attention... whaddya gonna do, ya know? It is what it is. He texts back, 'Don't break my balls, bro. See you at 7.' He said, 'don't break his balls' because I texted 'unless something comes up.' Nothing is going to 'come up.' See, interacting with Mickey, I'm almost like a normal guy. I can think of the right things to do and say, um, most of the time. With others, I still struggle.

So, we're 'on' for tonight. I wish I had a picture of him on my phone. No, if I had one, I'd probably jerk off looking at it. Haha, NO I wouldn't! I'm just fucking around with myself. But, seriously, maybe tonight Mickey's dad will go out with his lady friend and then Mickey and I can fuck in his bedroom. Otherwise, we probably won't get a chance to do 'it' tonight. Yeah, Wednesdays suck for me because of Mickey's dance class.

After dinner, I drive onto Mickey's street and see him at the curb waiting for me. I like that because it shows he's anxious to see me, but it's also an indication his dad is home. So that's disappointing. Mickey gets in and leans over to quickly kiss my lips. That's not something we did very often outside his house, I mean, until recently. Ya see, Mickey 'came out' to his dad, 'came out' to the world in general, so he's not shy about kissing me in public. It's slightly unnerving for me depending on where it is he does that, but I've got it 'bad' for him, so I overlook it.

He smiles, "Hi, Burke! I thought about you all day. During dance class, I almost sprained my ankle again because I wasn't concentrating on what I was doing." I nod, "Ahh, that's very flattering, Mick. I was thinking about you too. Don't get a big head, but you've become my idol... I wanna be just like you." He mumbles, "Well, okay, bro, thanks. Um, now that we've completed our requirements for our mutual admiration society, let's get moving. And I gotta say, you're looking especially yummy tonight." I go, "Yummy, huh? That's a very gay expression, heh-heh, and thanks." I guess we weren't done our mutual admiration society requirements.

I'm feeling happy like everything is just right now that Mickey's with me. I drive away, asking, "Where to, bossy?" He snickers, muttering, "Bossy," and then says, "Drive to the 69th Street Mall. I need new sneakers." As I'm driving, I ask, "Aren't we due for haircuts, Mick?" He says, "Yes, and I'm glad you agree with me that every three weeks we need haircuts. Last time you weren't very, well, nevermind that. I'll make appointments for Friday."

He reaches over to ruffle my hair, saying, "This time, I want you to tell the stylist to cut it shorter on top." I go, "Really, um, yeah, okay, but why?" He shrugs, mumbling, "Just because, um, because I think you look better with short hair. I know you hated Sal's haircut, but I kinda thought you looked cute with, what did you call it? The 'boy's special'? It was something like that." I go, "What? We're finally styling a contemporary haircut, Mick, and you want me to go back to Sal's! That haircut was shit compared to our styling haircuts."

He shrugs again, mumbling, "I was merely giving you my opinion, okay? You get whatever haircut you want; I'm just saying." Hmm, I like to please Mickey, but I whine, "I can't go back to Sal's Barbershop, MIckey. They'll know I got my hair cut someplace else. It'd be embarrassing!" He mumbles, "I know that. I already told you what to tell the guy at our new barbershop." We get to the mall without any further discussion about our hair and when we're inside someone yells, "Yo, Miller!"

We both turn around, and I see a guy I recognize from high school, although I've never spoken to him. He was Vice President of the Student Council. We wait for the guy to catch up with us. When he does, Mickey and the vice president of the student council do a routine guy's hug as Mickey smiles, saying, "Dan, what's up, bro?" Dan is an average-looking guy about my size, wearing a uniform of the United States Navy. He mumbles, "Can't you tell what's up with me, Mickey?" Mickey steps back, gawking at Dan's uniform, saying, "Well, yeah! Holy shit, you always said you were joining the Navy after high school, and you did."

This Dan guy says, "Yep, I just got back from boot camp. Oh, um, I'm only wearing my uniform because mom was taking pictures, and I haven't had a chance to change." That sounds like bullshit, but Mickie asks, "Where did you do boot camp?" We wander down the mall as Dan goes, "There's only one spot for Navy boot camp nowadays, the Naval Station, Great Lakes, Illinois." Then he goes, "Hey, it's a weird coincidence seeing you and Matt. And 'hi' to you too, Mattie," I nod, muttering, "Hey, Dan."

I'm super-shocked he knows my name, but I'm perfecting my blase approach to social intercourse, so a simple 'Hey' is all I say. Looking back at Mickey, Dan goes on to say, "It's a coincidence I ran into you two because, well, the Falco family is our next-door neighbors and Grace tells me you came 'out,' Mick."

Raising his chin at me, Dan adds, "And, the word from Grace," and he puts up finger-quotes, adding, "Grace, the town slut, is that Matt here is your gay boyfriend." Mickey says, in a comical manner, "Yeah, it's all true, Dan." He snickers then, adding, "Yeah, we're queer, and we're here. Watch out, ya know..." Dan tentatively touches Mickey's head, mumbling, "You finally went to the barbers, huh? Jesus, lots of changes! Ya look good, man, and you fucking know damn well I'm not afraid of queers, being one myself."

Mickey shrugs, looking uncertain as though he doesn't know whether to believe that or not. Dan chuckles, mumbling, "Why'd you give me that 'look,' dude? Christ, I wish I knew you were gay a couple of years ago. I would have liked poking your little skinny ass with my big dick. Heh-heh, I didn't suspect, though. You were always so friggin' quiet." Mickey grins, "Yeah, but you and I weren't ever quiet in chemistry class. Fuck, we always got the giggles, and Mr. Dietrick had to stop his lecture like every other day."

I'm like, "Oh, you're gay, Dan?" He nods, "Yeah, everybody knew that in high school, right MIckey?" Mickey says, "Sort of, I guess. Well, I mean, we never were sure that you were serious. You're always joking around so you could have been fucking with us about the gay shit. Did you tell the Navy recruiter you're queer?" Dan laughs out loud, and then goes, "Get fuckin' real; of course not! So, do you guys wanna see what it's like to have a Navy man fuck you both? I can arrange that."

We stop walking, and Mickey says, "A tempting offer, especially if you wore your uniform, but no thanks. It's like I won't let anyone fuck Burke but me." Dan says, "Well, so much for Mattie then, but I'll text you later, Mickey. Ya know, maybe you and I can hook up for a quicky. I gotta run now, but I still want a 'poke' at your tiny ass. I'll buy the condoms, dude. For now, I need to buy some civilian shoes for a homecoming party my relatives are throwing for me tonight. Talk to you later." We bump fists, and he goes one way, as we go the other.

I say, "He's in for a disappointment trying to 'poke' your ass. Mick." Mickey says, "I've no interest in Dan. I'm flattered he wants to, um, poke me, though. I didn't realize he was interested in me, not like that, jeezus..." Giving him a 'look,' I mutter, "I have the same rule for you as you have for me. No fucking with anybody but me." He pats my shoulder, "I know that. Come on; I need sneakers."

I say, "Hey, it just 'hit' me, Mick. Dan is our first acknowledged gay guy, um, other than ourselves. The first gay guy I've met who is 'out." Mickey mutters, "Knowing him won't do you any good, pussy boy. You're mine." I go, "Oh, yeah, I know that and I feel privileged you want me to be, ah, yours. Hey, were you close friends with that guy?" Mickey shrugs, "Sort of, but mostly because we were, coincidentally, in many classes together."

As we're approaching the 'Finish Line' store where Mickey wants to buy new sneakers, he says, "Ya know, that guy, Dan, was wicked smart in school. I'll bet he enrolled in a Navy officer candidate program of some sort. His family is poor, so that's probably why he joined the Navy. Ya know, to get an education." I'm like, "Oh yeah? If he's so smart, how come he didn't get a scholarship someplace?" Mickey goes, "Well, he did get a few partial scholarships, but he couldn't come up with the rest of the money." I go, "There's always college loans." He nods, "Yeah, but some people have a 'thing' against being in debt. Not me, but some people do."

Mickey quickly finds sneakers he likes and buys them. We stop at the food court for ice cream cones at Hart's Ice Cream shop. Licking our cones, we walk back to the car, where I mutter, "Just so you know, Mickey, I'd rather be licking your dick than this cone." He laughs, muttering, "The conversational way you said that struck me funny. Like you were commenting on the weather." I go, "Whatever. Where can we go so I can do that?" He finishes his ice cream and says, "In my bedroom, I guess. We can take a chance since Dad's working in his basement office tonight." I'm like, "Dude! What are we doing here, then? Let's go do it!"

Getting in the car, I go, "Let's get moving," and he says, "Calm down, Burke." I go, "I'm calm," and he says, "Here's something new that you'll like. I was reading online about guys taking cocks in their throats, and, interestingly, for some guys, it's easy. I'll bet you can do it." I go, "Deep throating. Yeah, I know about that." Mickey grins at me, mumbling, "And I'm guessing you'll be doing that with my cock, right?"

Driving out of the mall garage, I mutter, "Dream on, bossy." He hits my arm, "No, seriously. Listen to me, Burke; I'm 'the man' bro; you gotta do it if I tell you to." I'm like, "For Christ's sakes, don't you remember I had that discussion with you about you being too bossy?" He snickers, whispering, "Yeah, I do, and I'm not changing." That makes me laugh, 'cause he's right. Shrugging, I mutter, "Fuck it, okay, I'll try it." He goes, "That's the pussy boy I love."

I can't help snorting out a laugh at that, mumbling, "Yeah, I gotta do it 'cause you are 'my man.'" He rubs my head, "You're awesome, Burke!" A minute later, I'm whining again, saying, "Hey, if your cock is in my throat when you blast off with your creamy spunk, I won't get to feel it on my tongue or taste it." He mutters, "Yeah, I can see where that would disappoint you, but life sucks, and then you die, ya know?" Chuckling, I mumble, "You're a compassionate and romantic motherfucker, ain't ya?"

If only I could be as relaxed and, well, kinda 'normal' with everyone the way I am with Mickey. Man, that would be fabulous! We drive in silence until Mickey says, "Seriously Burke, don't get hurt feelings, but it's annoying me a little when you call me 'bossy.' I know you're kidding, joking around and breaking my balls a little, but if you call me that too often, it'll become my nickname, and that is not a cool nickname." I glance at him and grin, mumbling, "Okay, bossy, you're the boss, so if you say so, I won't call you 'bossy' anymore." He mutters, "You just called me that three times in one sentence." I snicker, "My bad, bossy. I'm sorry." He snickers too, muttering, "Asshole."

At Mickey's house, we walk through to the kitchen, where he calls down to his dad in the basement, "Burke and I are here, dad. We'll be in my room playing a video game." I hear his dad reply but can't make out what he said. Mickey smirks at me and then takes a bottle of vodka from a cabinet over the kitchen counter. He puts a finger to his lips, "Sshh." Then, pouring vodka into juice glasses, he hands one to me, taps my glass with his, and whispers, "To my cock in your throat." He snickers and drinks the shot. I make a 'face' at him and drink my shot. UGH!

We're both making gagging 'faces' now, giggling as he pours two more shots of clear liquid fire. We tap glasses with me whispering, "Here's to my sore throat," and we flash down our second shots. MIckey gags and laughs as he's grabbing a Pepsi from their refrigerator. We pass it back and forth, drinking the soda to kill the taste of vodka. He puts the vodka bottle away, takes my hand, and, bringing the Pepsi bottle, leads me upstairs to his bedroom.

The two shots of vodka make me dizzy for a few seconds, but as soon as Mickey closes his bedroom door, he puts the Pepsi bottle on his bureau, pushes me onto his bed, and lays on me. I'm not dizzy now as our mouths come together. In ten seconds, I have a hard boner in my shorts that's poking Mickey's leg.

His tongue is in my mouth, my fingers in his hair, spit drooling down our chins, our teeth scraping together, his scent swarming around in my olfactory glands, and it's perfect. I shudder under him as intense arousal overtakes me. There isn't anyplace with anybody I'd rather be than right here with Mickey doing this right now. I'm in 'stupid' love with him. 'Stupid' love because I'm helplessly in unconditional love with him, including our sex obviously, but also our camaraderie and friendship and, well, having a 'real best friend and all the other things I just said is a new and wonderful experience for me.

We make out for maybe five minutes, and then Mickey sits on my stomach looking down at me, grinning and saying, "Let's try this deepthroat shit." Going up on his knees, he undoes his shorts and pulls down the zipper. Pulling his firm penis out through the slit in his boxer shorts, he holds it as he walks on his knees until his cock is over my mouth, and says, "Show me you love me, Burke."

Nodding my head, I take his cock in my fingers. Mickey lowers his hips so I can put it in my mouth. Mmmm, I lick up and down his penis one time and then mostly just suck the head of his cock. The pretty pink, one-eyed head of his penis is smooth and perfectly shaped, a work of art. Mickey pushes in more of his cock until his balls rest on my chin, the head moving back on my tongue until it pokes at the back of my throat. Mickey's hairless and pale pink groin looks clean and smells sweet. His personal scents are very pleasant, although subtle.

It's as though Mickey and I possess an extraordinary amount of compatibility along with our complementary bodily parts. Likability bodily features that mate together, seemingly to perfection. I'm guessing it's extremely unlikely that two guys match up this well, but we do, so...

Mickey's determined to try this 'deep throating' sex act, and I'm determined to accommodate his efforts. As I said, his cock is hitting the back of my throat at what's called the 'gag reflex' area, and it's making me, well, gag. I gag, scared for a moment, so I struggle under Mickey's body, but he doesn't let my gagging bother him. He puts pressure on his hard cock until it slides into my throat, and, two seconds later, I'm not scared anymore 'cause I can handle this. It's the weirdest sensation of my life for sure, but it's doable, and I'm feeling proud that I can do this for Mickey.

He smiles and nods his head at me encouragingly as he's pushing his cock further down my throat. Less than two inches of his hard as rock cock is in my throat, and yet he's close to sitting on my face. Everything about this is arousing me sexually, arousing me to a degree I can't describe. My cock is drooling pre-cum into my underpants in its confined position, and I hump my hips thinking I'm going climax, but I don't.

Mickey has an expression on his face as if he's amazed this is working. His mouth hangs open as he pulls his cock up, and then, with a moan, he pushes it down my throat again. I'm gaging again, but neither of us pays any attention to that. He pulls his cock up and pushes it down more easily this time. Closing his eyes he moans softly and leaves his cock in my throat until I raise my hand and let my eyes get a wild 'look' to them because I can't 'effing breathe.

As Mickey's pulling his cock all the way out of my mouth, a string of slippery pre-cum stays attached to it, a long strand of it dangles from his hard engorged cock. He holds his hard cock in his fingers, murmuring, "You're fantastic, Mattie. Truly special." I'm breathing deeply, catching my breath, grinning at him, and, as I already said, I'm feeling proud of myself. Mickey lifts up on his knees and mumbles, "Holy shit, that felt, um, wicked different than anything I can think of at the moment. Jesus..." and then he grins, asking, "Ready?" and I take his boner in my throat again and again. When I need to breathe I raise my hand.

Mickey's eyelids flutter as he pulls his steel cock from my throat, and I gasp in some oxygen. Yeah, it is a wild sexual turnon for me, although not my favorite thing to do. I can't think of anything to say, so I shrug. Mickey goes, "Okay, we did that. Now, you need to turn over and drop your shorts. Heh-heh, I almost shot off in your throat, but I'd rather drop my load in your ass." Without hesitating, I do as I'm told, keeping my hips off the bed after turning over so I can get my pants down past my ass.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm thinking, 'something is missing' but I'm greatly aroused from that last sex act to the degree I can't think straight. All I can think about now is Mickey's hard cock up my ass. The long string of pre-cum hanging from Mickey's boner feels cold as it drools around and on my asshole. My face is on the pillow, and when I feel the pre-cum, I turn my head and watch Mickey drooling a long bubbly, clear, sparkling string of his saliva so that it lands on my asshole. Oh, yeah, that's what's missing... we have no condom and no lubricant.

No hesitation on Mickey's part either. His boner hits my asshole and spreads it open, then open some more, and some more... and then it slides tightly in past my sphincter muscle as a sharp pain swarm over me. More so than normal, but the pre-cum and saliva helped. The rest of the trip into my rectum isn't even as successful as the unsuccessful entrance. Pain stays with me for the entire six-plus inches into my rectum.

Mickey says, "Get your ass up more, Burke. C'mon, help out here." I croak, "It hurts," and he goes, "Sorry," and then he's fully inside me. He grinds his hips, moaning, "Oooh, God, umm..." I'm scrunching my face at the hurt while Mickey's going about his business pulling his boner back which leaves pre-cum in the wake of his retreating boner.

By now, my cock has lost a lot of its hardness due to the pain. The first three or four thrusts of Mickey's boner back and forth in my rectum aren't doing anything to get my penis hard again, but the next thrust up my ass goes easier, and the next couple of thrusts actually feel good and then, from my throat slips a moan, "Ummm, oooh," and Mickey murmurs, "That's my boy. We got it going good now, Burke." He increases the speed of his thrusting until I'm in ecstasy once again, the hurt is forgotten as I'm groveling under Mickey with each trust creating a level of pleasure that some people can only fantasize about, as I'm living it.

Once Mickey got it going perfectly, it was only two minutes of the ecstasy I mentioned before my climax bullies everything out of the way and dominates my brain for five-or-six seconds as it roars into life sending my semen up and out from my balls. Semen-squiggles fly out into the world only to die by the millions, but Omigod, the fantastic mountain of pleasure they gave me on their way out, is something that no one has accurately described. Nothing comes close to a description of that the intense pleasure known as sexual climax. Try to wrap your head around the fact that there are over 300 billion stars in the Milky Way Galaxy and there are over 300 billion galaxies... trying to comprehend that is the difficulty factor I encounter trying to describe how good sexual climax feels during that four, five, or six seconds at its peak.

Dropping my hips, lying in my own cum, I feel Mickey unloading his millions of guys in a long load of creamy warm semen inside me. His thrusting is easy and smooth now, but only for a few thrusts before he pulls his cock from my ass and flops on the bed next to me.

We do our normal deep breathing for a minute, and then he looks at me, rubs my head, and says, "We did two 'new' things, Burke! Deep-throating and fucking without to help of lubricant. Well, except for my natural lubes, and you were spectacular! You're the star, Burke. Omigod, I love you!" I'm feeling pretty fucking good as I mutter, "We're awesome together, Mick. What a threesome... you and me and sex. And I have a stupid love for you too." He appears to be perplexed, "Stupid love? What's that mean?" Shrugging, I go, "Nevermind, just be grateful." He chuckles, "Okay, I'm grateful. Actually, I think I'm the luckiest guy I know. Next to you, I mean... hahaha."

I laugh too and say, "Yeah, you're right. I'm the luckiest, and you're second luckiest." He sighs, then says, "I wonder how many couples say the same thing." I ask, "Are we a couple?" He goes, "DUH!" and I'm like, "Well, yeah, of course, we are. We're a 'couple.'" Then Mickey holds his hand up, going, "Shhh," and he gets off the bed and stands near his bedroom door with his ear against it. Wow, he has a great, albeit smallish, body. Perfect proportions except his penis is too big for the rest of him. Haha, no it's not!

It's a false alarm, as Mickey opens the door and peeks out. Looking at me, he goes, "Nobody's there, haha. I thought I heard something." I wave at him, mumbling, "C'mon, get back on the bed with me and show your pussy boy some loving cuddling."

On the bed, on top of the covers, we get our clothes buttoned up and then do our normal cuddling, me partially lying on Mickey, his arm under the back of my neck. Haha, and we always sigh, too; both of us every time. That's cool!

After a quiet two minutes, I mumble, "I'm taking the risk of you yelling at me again, but I wanna make sure of something. Are we 'good' with the stuff we argued about Monday after the Phillies' game?" Mickey goes, "First of all, I never yelled at you! We talked it out and, yeah, we're 'good.'" I nod, and then he adds, "It's like this, Burke. When you do or say the inevitable childish stuff, I've decided to treat you as though you're my beloved little brother and guide you to the correct way of speaking and doing things."

I go, "Be serious!" and he snickers, mumbling, "I was serious," and I'm like, "Huh. Ya know what? I kinda like that scenario now that I think about it, the scenario of me being your little brother, idolizing my know-it-all bossy big brother. Of course, during sex, we'll need to adjust our roles. I mean, incest ya know, but other than that, I'm okay with it." He grins, muttering, "You would be," and I murmur, "Take good care of me, Mickey, heh-heh." He goes, "Yeah, it'd be better if I was bigger than you, but we'll have to overlook my size handicap."

We go on goofing around with that nonsense a little while, and then I'm like, "On a more serious note, Mick, should I take night courses at Drexel this coming semester?" He goes, "I think it's too late to register and, anyway, let's get your work situation finalized first, where you'll be working. Then we need to get comfortable living in our apartment. You know, paying bills, shopping for food, cooking and whatever else. And then, next semester, in January maybe we can take two of the same courses late enough in the afternoon that I can help you with them." I go, "Awesome! Yes, let's do it that way."

It's so much fun discussing plans for us living together and making plans for what we'll do, and especially talking about us sleeping together every night. Oh, man, this is the life a lot of nineteen-year-old guys would love to experience... living away from home. Yeah, I know, most would rather do it with a girl, but a platonic friend being a roommate would be good too. Only a very few guys our age can pull off living away from home, but we're doing it. A teenager with his own place is only a fantasy for most, but then doing it with a lover is the ultimate fantasy that's soon to be a reality for Mickey and me. Mickey and me; two dorks? I don't fucking think so, not anymore we're not!

Running his fingers through my hair, Mickey says, "So, are you gonna get a shorter haircut 'cause I asked you to, Burke?" I lift my head to look at him, asking, "Why do you care? Fuck, you had, um, a lady's hairdo for years; long lady-type hair." He goes, "Yeah, I was really out of it, but I'm not now, and maybe because of that goofy long hair I had, maybe that's why I'd like my boyfriend to have a short regular guy's haircut." I'm like, "That, my bossy friend, makes zero sense." He pulls my hair, and I go, "OW! Goddammit, Mickey," and he says, "Can't you fuckin' humor me?" I go, "Okay, already. I don't fuckin' care as long as you don't make me go back to Sal's. Let's look online for a haircut for me that you like. I can show the pix to the guy at the Secane barbershop."

We get off the bed, and Mickey fires up his laptop to again Google 'College hairstyles for guys'. We've seen most of them the first time we looked. We see some new ones too, but nothing fits Mickey's idea for my haircut. He says, "How 'bout if we do this? I'll go to the Secane barbershop, and even though you don't want to, you go back to Sal's. He cuts your hair short enough. I liked that haircut the time we went to Sal's. For you, I mean." I go, "Oh, no! What the fuck did I just say to you three minutes ago? No Sal's! I already told you I'm not doing that!" He makes a 'face,' mumbling, "Why not?" I say, "I don't know where to start. Hey, what's the real story here? Why do you want me to have a short haircut?"

Moving his head so he can look me in the eyes, he says, "You're much cuter than me, so, if I can have the cooler haircut, it sort of evens it out, slightly." I go, "What? You look wicked cool now, Mickey. Whaddaya talking about? The guys think you're their leader, for Christ's sakes." He shrugs and mutters, "Jesus, Burke! I was pulling your chain with that bullshit. To be honest, it's just that our haircuts are almost identical, and that's kinda weird, don't ya think? And I wanna keep this hairstyle, so you need a different one." I say, "Oh, so it's me who has to change. You're really something, but this is silly. Sure, I'll tell my barber to give me a short version of the haircut I've gotten the last two times we went to that Secane barbershop. Okay? I don't care."

Another shrug from Mickey as he mutters, "Okay, but it'd be better if we had haircuts even more different than that." I go, "Ya can't have everything your bossy way, bossy? That's the bottom line, isn't it? You just want to have it your way." He laughs, "Maybe you're right but, I swear, I wasn't thinking of it like that. Not until you mentioned it." I'm smirking, muttering, "Get used to not having everything your way. You're gonna need to settle for having only like ninety percent your bossy way."

Snickering, he goes, "Well, I'm the boss, Goddammit!" and we roll around on his bed wrestling until we're both sprouting boners again. When we hear his dad coming, clump, clump, clump, up the steps, we both glance at the clock next to the bed and see it's almost eleven o'clock. Mickey mutters, "Oh, balls, dad's going to bed. What happened to the time, Burke?" I'm getting off the bed, saying, "I don't know, but I gotta get up early, so I'm gonna take off." He gets off the bed and hugs me, which turns into a hot make out for two minutes.

Stepping back, I go, "Jeez, Mick, I, um, that is, I'm crazy in love with you." He straightens his shirt and shorts, mumbling, "I know you are, and right back at you, Matt. We'll be living together in less than three weeks, and that will be a sweet trip, huh?" I lean my head down to kiss him again and then leave my face next to his, murmuring, "You're the best big brother ever." He chuckles, musses my hair, and mumbles, "I'll walk you outside."

His dad is in the bathroom, so that's convenient. We go downstairs, holding hands without needing to have an awkward exchange with his dad. When we're next to my car, Mickey gives my ass a smack and then kisses me quickly, mumbling, "See you tomorrow after work. We'll do the deep-throat blowjob again at your house, okay? That was wicked hot, don't you think?" I nod, "Yeah, it was, but I don't want to do it very often." He smiles, which is Mickey's best 'look.' He's cute when he smiles. I mumble, "You look like you're a cute fifteen-year-old, Mickey." He mutters, "Yeah, I know I look young... it's gonna be a bitch getting 'served' even when I'm legal age."

Not able to come up with something to say that would delay my departure, I shrug, get in the car, we mumble 'goodnight' again, and I drive off sighing. Yeah, it's love. What else could it be?

Thursday is weird at work 'cause early in the afternoon, someone pulled the 'fire' alarm thing on the wall, and we got rained on by the fire sprinkler system. It's been extremely hot in the building, so maybe someone snapped out and pulled the alarm out of frustration. Omigod, there were some pissed-off management types running around cursing and threatening everyone that when they find out who pulled the alarm, someone is going to jail. All of us workers smirked at one another like, 'go fuck yourself' and kept doing what we were doing. Then, in the afternoon, the head honcho came around apologizing like mad to everyone because the fire chief determined an electrical failure caused the alarm, so it was no one's fault. Us workers smirked at the man, like, 'go fuck himself' and kept doing what we were doing. Haha, us worker bees have a one-track mind.

The temperature in the warehouse hovers around one-hundred degrees in the summer, so the water system going off cooled us all down. After work, I was grinning to myself, thinking about the sprinklers raining down on us as I drove over to Mickey's. He isn't at the curb, so I blow the horn and out he comes. Getting in the car, he's grinning, as he says, "How ya doing, you cute motherfucker? Hey, we need to hurry. I called the Secane Barbershop, and they can take us today in like five minutes." I go, "Ah, jeez, I wanted to go back to Sal's." He laughs, muttering, "Yeah, sure you did," and I drive away, telling him about the fuck up with the fire alarm at work.

At the barbershop, I get the hot-looking lady barber this time and tell her I like this fade hairstyle, but cut it short on top. Oh, boy, she interpreted my word 'short' with more enthusiasm than I expected and gave me a haircut Mickey will like, for sure. When she finishes, my hair is just barely long enough to lie down on top with no bangs in front. She outlined my forehead hairline with the trimmer clippers and down the hairline on both sides. The trimmer clippers are like a straight razor. It looks a little like I have a 'hair' cap on my head. Um, except for the hair at the crown, the back part of the top is so bristly-short it won't lie down.

As she's taking the barber cape off me, she tries pumping me up about the haircut, saying, "This is a very distinct 'look' for you, Mark." Well, yeah, she got my name wrong, and she cut my hair too short, but I give her a 'tip' anyway.

Mickey is still getting his hair cut. When I walk by his barber chair, he sticks his hand out from under the barber and gives me the 'thumb up' sign along with his smile... yeah, that was cute. I don't give a shit that my hair is short, so I smile back but give him the 'finger.' He snorts out a laugh, and his barber mutters, "Hold still, please."

In the car, Mickey goes, "Omigod, Burke, you look so fucking hot with that cool-ass haircut. Quick, drive us home so I can fuck you!" That's what I do, and when we get there, Mickey fucks me hard, but only for a short time 'cause we were both horny and climaxed fast. He was first to blast off his load in the condom he was wearing. His climax happened, and then, right away, I shot an arching string of cum like three feet that landed with a "Splat" on the other side of the kitchen table. Christ, I'm shaking like a leaf as sensations ripple through me. As I said, climaxing is a pleasure that defies description.

Mickey's leaning against me, his cock still in my ass as he mutters, "What the fuck, bro. That was incredible, huh? That was an awesome orgasm." He pushes the back of my head, so I'll bend forward again, which I do, and he fucked me for another fifteen minutes until I felt as though we were both drifting around in the air. Both of us drifting and fucking, that's how fabulous the trance-like state I was in felt. Best fuck ever! We had smallish amounts of spunk shooting out, but it was still the best double-fuck ever. My small amount of jism felt like it was coming out for two minutes. When I looked at the little dab of spunk that shot out, I couldn't believe there was so little of it.

When Mickey pulls his cock from my ass this time, he mutters, "Oh, no," and I'm like, "What?" He shakes his head, mumbling, "Christ, I'm sore." We hug, then look at one another like, what the fuck? Haha, double-fucks are hot!

After wiping ourselves with tissues, Mickey tries mussing my hair, but my hair on top is too short to mess it up much. Grinning, Mickey mumbles, "Jesus, Burke, that short haircut is so perfect on you." No cuddling since we're standing in the kitchen, so, as we're cleaning my mess off the table, I'm like, "I'm glad you like it, but that hot-bitch barber almost gave me a fucking buzzcut."

He shakes his head, mumbling, "You don't know what you're talking about, Burke. Buzzcut, my ass." I go, "This from a haircut expert who just had his fourth haircut since he was ten-fucking-years-old." Mickey laughs, points at my head, and says, "That hairstyle has 'Mattie Burke' written all over it. It goes with your face; it's perfect for you." I mutter, "Oh, what a crock," and he says, " I'm 'effing serious. It goes with your adorable face, ya dumb fuck." I'm like, "Really?" and I run my hand over my head, mumbling, "It looks good on me, huh?"

After we're satisfied the kitchen table is totally clean, we go into the bathroom and wash up at the sink. Then, in the bedroom, without either of us saying anything, we automatically get naked and slide into my bed, under the covers. The air conditioning is set at seventy-two degrees, which feels wicked cool compared to eighty-seven degrees outside.

Settling in, snuggling in our usual fashion, I sigh and say, "Yeah, I think you're right, Mick. I kinda like this haircut now." He asks, "How do you like mine?" I mumble, "It's nice but lacks the distinct 'look' of my haircut, doncha think?" He makes a 'face,' mumbling, "Mind doesn't have a distinct look? Really?" I shrug, "Not as distinct as mine, and I'm cuter than you too." He pinches my tit, and I go, "OW!"

Settling down again, my head partially on his shoulder, Mickey flips his finger on my earring and asks, "Do you ever take your earring out, or off, or however you say that?" I go, "No. I'm afraid to because maybe I couldn't get it back it, or on, or however you say that." We snicker and then lie like this talking more nonsense, and it's just so perfect being naked in bed with him and knowing Mickey feels the same way about me.

After twenty minutes, I wrestle my way on top of Mickey. Looking down at him, I grin, saying, "Can we try me being the 'top' again?" He makes a 'face' closing his eyes and goes, "Jeez..." and then murmurs, "Don't ruin today, please." I'm like, "I'm not ruining anything. We haven't tried it for six weeks." He said, "Burke, we agreed that it isn't going to work. You know we agreed to that."

Sliding off him, I mutter, "I know we did, but we could try." He says, "No, we couldn't. How about we do this instead, I'll fuck you without a condom. Not right this minute, in a little while. You like that, right?" Shrugging, I go, "Yeah, okay," and I slide off him to snuggle in tight against him our usual way. He squeezes my shoulders and says, "Um, I know you're comfortable now, so I hate to bother you, Burke, but I could go for something to drink. Would you get us a couple of Cokes and something to snack on." Groaning, I mumble, "Yes, order-giver," I get off the bed and, as I'm pulling on my shorts, sans underpants, he says, "And toss me that comb on your bureau. You messed up my hair."

Tossing him the comb, I ask, "Anything else, bossy?" He grins, saying, "I'm doing all the guy stuff, so you need to do the other stuff." I go, "What other stuff?" and he says, "You know, um, whatever I tell you to do," and he snickers again. Chuckling, I put my glasses on, look at him, and mumble, "You're a sexy motherfucker, ain't ya?" He says, "With you, I guess I am, and thank God you think so."

From the kitchen, I bring back two Cokes and a bag of Lays potato chips. We sit up in bed, drinking and eating our snack as Mickey says, "We're a really good team, doncha think?" I nod my head, "Uh-huh. You're the bossy leader, and I'm a sucker push-over." Looking at me, he's like, "Noo! That's not what I meant at all. You're not either of those things. Next time I'll get the snack, or whatever. We share shit, and we're equal except for me doing all the guy stuff and making all our decisions." He tries to keep a straight face after saying that, but he can't, and then he snorts out a laugh."

I just shake my head slowly, but I'm enthralled with him. I get a boner when he says shit like that. I go, 'You're my man, huh?" He goes, "We're just fucking around, but in all seriousness, we'll share all the work in our apartment, cleaning or whatever, and take turns with errands, and whatever else."

I don't want to say the obvious, which is... we'll share everything except 'topping'. I don't say that because I don't want to be a wet blanket. Anyway, it's not Mickey's fault his ass is screwed up and can't take a five-inch hard cock up there.

Mickey finishes his Coke, burps a loud burp, and then laughs 'cause that's what guys do, and then mumbles, "I know what you're thinking, Burke. You're thinking that, no, we aren't sharing 'everything' equally, but I just can't do it, Mattie. I'm wicked sorry I can't do the 'bottom' part for you. I would if I could, I swear to God I would." I go, "I know that. It's okay, and you were right to say we both agreed it doesn't work. It's been a disaster every time we've tried it, and that makes both of us feel bad, especially you. I won't bring it up again." He murmurs, "Thank you, you're the nicest boyfriend ever."

We're quiet for a few minutes, and then I scrunch up the potato chip bag, which is a noisy endeavor, then finish my Coke. Putting the Coke cans and the empty potato chip bag on the table next to the bed, I murmur, "C'mon, we need to do our famous cuddling." Mickey slides down to lie on the bed, and I do the same. He gets his arm behind my neck, and I sort of lie against his side with my head on his shoulder. I murmur, "I'm in love with you, Michael Miller," and he murmurs, "I know you are, Burke, and the same to you." We lie like this for quite a while. Why did the thought we were in love ever bother me?

I'm so comfortable against Mickey with his arm under my neck, holding me tightly against him. It's sexy and awesome feeling Mickey's naked body against mine. Then he puts his other arm over me and hugs gently, turning his head to kiss the side of mine. How in the fuck did I make it through all the years before I met Mickey? How did I live every day being alone?

Well, probably because I didn't realize I was so alone until I began experiencing this. Yes, Dean and I were friends, casual friends who used each other. He used me to get driven places, and I used him as my security blanket, helping me barely get by socially. There is no comparing that with everything Mickey and I do together... the love and sex and laughs, wanting to be with each other. Omigod, how could I ever go back to what my life was before MIckey and me?

Mickey murmurs, "I hope you're thinking nice thoughts," and I go, "Yeah, I am." He goes, "Me too, I'm thinking about you." Then we're kissing softly, and then we're making-out like wild things, and then a little later, MIckey is fucking me without a condom, and then we're having tremendous climaxes and gasping and sighing. Pulling his 'sore' cock from my ass, Mickey smacks my ass, saying, "Oh, man, that felt so friggin' good! How did it feel for you?" I go, "It was okay, I guess." He smacks my ass again, muttering, "Only okay? Liar!"

We're sweaty now as we lie next to each other on our backs, taking deep breaths. I say, "We've got time for a quick shower, and I mean quick." In the shower, we do that squirting bath gel on each other 'thing', acting like ten-year-old kids giggling and rubbing our hands on one another's bodies. Then, while rinsing off under the shower, I go, "You joined in being childish with me bossy." He mumbles, "You're a bad influence on me, childishness-wise," and we get out to dry off.

While driving him home, I ask, "Is your dad going out after dinner?" He says, "As a matter of fact, he is." I'm like, "So we can hang out in your bedroom?" He nods, "Yep, except my dick is sore. It was sore before that last little bit of fucking we did, although I didn't notice while we were doing it." I'm like, "Looks like an evening of oral sex. You go first." He says, "You should go first because you like doing it so much." I mumble, "Yeah, I do. Okay, but you've gotta do it too." He says, "Of course." Hmm, we'll see.

To be continued... Chapter 19 "No Problem"

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