\n    "How do I look, Shawn?"

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I turned to look at the wolf who had spoken.  His black fur

\n

\n was neatly combed.  His gray eyes sparkled as he looked at me with

\n

\n a look of worried expectation. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He was a hunk but I couldn't tell him that.  And it wasn't the

\n

\n presence of the sales person who was preventing me from telling

\n

\n him, either.  I had told him how I felt about him once and I almost

\n

\n lost him as a friend.  I would never do that again.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "You look great, Marc," I said, trying to force a smile that

\n

\n covered up my pain.  "Sherry's a lucky woman."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Marc took a step toward me and put his strong hand on my

\n

\n shoulder.  "Thanks for being my best man, Shawn," he said, softly,

\n

\n ignoring the presence of the sales person.  "You really are my best

\n

\n friend.  I know that it's going to be hard on you to stand up with

\n

\n me tomorrow, but I really do appreciate you doing it."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm glad you chose me to do it," I replied.  I took a step

\n

\n away from him, but he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into his

\n

\n arms and hugged me.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I love you, Shawn," he whispered against my ear.  "Not the

\n

\n way you need me to, but I do love you."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      My body trembled at his touch and I melted into his warm

\n

\n strong arms as I breathed in the aroma of the cologne I had given

\n

\n him for Christmas.  I wanted to tell him again how much I loved

\n

\n him, but I couldn't; not after what had happened the last time.

\n

\n   

\n

\n      Marc and I had been thrown together as roommates at the local

\n

\n university three years before.  He had transferred in from another

\n

\n city.  Having been born and raised in Canton, I had spent my first

\n

\n two years of college at Canton University.  We were both in our

\n

\n Junior year.  Of course, I fell in love with him at first sight,

\n

\n but didn't dare tell him that I was gay or found him attractive.

\n

\n Marc loved to come back to our room after a long evening of

\n

\n studying and take a hot shower and then lounge around the room

\n

\n either in a pair of tight bikini underwear or just a towel wrapped

\n

\n around his muscular waist.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      If he just wore the towel, he'd take it off after getting into

\n

\n bed and sleep nude.  I had an earlier class than he did, so I

\n

\n usually got up before Marc.  Since our room was warm, most mornings

\n

\n his cover would have slipped off, exposing his sometimes erect

\n

\n member.  If he wore his tight briefs, his hard organ would poke out

\n

\n of the waistband.  There weren't many mornings I didn't get to see

\n

\n it.

\n

\n      I would get up and go to the bathroom for my shower.  On most

\n

\n mornings, he would get up and come into the bathroom to relieve

\n

\n himself and sometimes I'd just be getting out of the shower when he

\n

\n came in.  He never made any move to cover himself up and I was

\n

\n relieved that I was always able to enjoy the view of his member

\n

\n without getting a hardon of my own.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      A few weeks before Marc and I graduated, he suggested that

\n

\n since we got along so well, that we should rent an apartment

\n

\n together.  I had been worrying that I might never see him again

\n

\n after graduation, so I jumped at the offer.  We found a nice two

\n

\n bedroom one bath apartment and moved in the week after graduation.

\n

\n Marc had met Sherry, a very nice dalmata a couple of months after

\n

\n we graduated and they hit it off very good.  I liked Sherry,

\n

\n but was very jealous of their relationship.  Marc told me that she

\n

\n said she was a virgin and was saving herself for when she got married.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I never told Marc that I was gay, but after he started dating

\n

\n Sherry, I noticed that he started getting more friendly toward me.

\n

\n If I was sitting on the couch watching TV or something, he would

\n

\n sit down next to me and stretch out, making sure our upper arms

\n

\n touched.  If I was in the kitchen cooking, he would put his hand on

\n

\n my arm and look over my shoulder to see what I was making.  After

\n

\n a few weeks of this, he began hugging me before he left to go

\n

\n anywhere.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Since we only had one bathroom and we both worked from eight

\n

\n to five, he still came in the bathroom nude while I was showering

\n

\n in the mornings.  I didn't get to see him as often, but still at

\n

\n least once a day.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      It had been Christmas Eve when I finally told him I loved him.

\n

\n We had been out of college for about seven months.  I had gotten

\n

\n him the cologne.  He opened it and smelled of it.  "I love it,

\n

\n Shawn," he said.  "Thanks."  He gave me a hug and handed me the

\n

\n small gift he had purchased for me.  It was also a bottle of

\n

\n cologne, but not the same kind as I had given him.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Thank you, Marc," I said, hugging him.  "This is my favorite

\n

\n kind."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Good," he said, standing up.  "I hate to leave you alone this

\n

\n evening," he added, "but I've got a date with Sherry.  I'll see you

\n

\n in the morning."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Oh?" I asked, surprised.  "Are you going to get lucky

\n

\n tonight?"

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He grinned.  "No, but it might be late when I get home and you

\n

\n might be in bed."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Oh, okay."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Don't you have a party to go to or something this evening?"

\n

\n he asked.  "I'd hate to think you're going to spend Christmas Eve

\n

\n alone."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I do have a party to go to," I admitted.  "I'm just not

\n

\n looking forward to it, though."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Why not?" he asked.  "Maybe you'll meet someone there.  You

\n

\n know, Shawn, I've noticed you haven't had a boy friend since we

\n

\n met.  Don't tell me you're that picky."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I was surprised he said that.  I didn't realize he knew I was

\n

\n gay, since I hadn't told him.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I've found someone I've very interested in," I admitted, "but

\n

\n he's not interested in me."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Oh?  How do you know that?  Have you asked him or told him

\n

\n how you feel about him?"

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "No.  But I just know."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Well, the next time you see him, you should just come out and

\n

\n tell him.  If he cares at all for you, he won't hit you.  And if he

\n

\n tries to, just run as fast as you can."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Okay, I'll remember that," I said, forcing a smile.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'll see you later," he said, hugging me. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I didn't tell him then, but watched him leave.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The party had been okay, but I had been bored the whole night.

\n

\n I got home about nine and took a long hot bath, then lay down on

\n

\n the couch in the living room and fell asleep watching TV.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Hey, Shawn?" Marc's deep voice woke me up.  I stretched and

\n

\n looked into his warm gray eyes. 

\n

\n     

\n

\n      "Hi," I said smiling up at him as the blood rushed to the

\n

\n center of my body as I looked at him.

\n

\n     

\n

\n      Marc had taken a shower and just had his towel wrapped around

\n

\n his waist.  He sat on the edge of the couch and had placed his hand

\n

\n on my arm to wake me up.  "Did you go to the party?"

\n

\n     

\n

\n      "Yes, it wasn't too bad," I admitted.  "But I should have gone

\n

\n over to Mom and Dad's instead."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Sorry to hear that," he said.  He lay across me against the

\n

\n back of the couch.  His side pressed against my stomach and his arm

\n

\n against my right side.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Placing my left hand on his thigh, I asked, "Did you get lucky

\n

\n tonight?"

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Almost," he admitted, sleepily.  "After I took her home, I

\n

\n got Sherry on her couch and we were kissing pretty heavily."  I

\n

\n noticed his bulge began to grow under the towel as he spoke.  "I

\n

\n ran my hand up her dress; she was just wearing a pair of panties

\n

\n and they were soaked.  I stuck my thumb underneath the leg hole and

\n

\n found her clit and she had an orgasm when I flicked my thumb across

\n

\n it.  Man she was hot.

\n

\n      "I tried to pull her panties down so I could get at her, but

\n

\n she pushed me away and I had to come home.  She said she still

\n

\n wanted to wait and if I loved her, that I would understand."  

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Marc sat up and adjusted his boner under his towel.  I sat up

\n

\n and caressed his back, he turned to face me and I kissed him gently

\n

\n on the lips.  "I love you, Marc," I whispered.  "I'd be glad to take

\n

\n care of that for you," I said, motioning to the bulge under his

\n

\n towel.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He gave me a surprised look.  "So, I'm the one you were

\n

\n talking about earlier?" he asked.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Yea," I admitted.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I see," he said.  "I guess I should have known."  Marc got up

\n

\n and went into his bedroom and closed the door without saying

\n

\n another word.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The next morning I got up and took a shower.  Marc didn't come

\n

\n into the bathroom.  When I started making coffee, I heard the water

\n

\n running in the shower.  I went to the bathroom to ask him what he

\n

\n wanted for breakfast, but he had locked the door.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I made the same thing I had the day before.  He came into the

\n

\n kitchen dressed.  "Morning," he said, softly as he poured himself

\n

\n a cup of coffee.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Good morning.  Merry Christmas," I replied, placing his plate

\n

\n on the table where he always sat.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Thanks, but I'm going to have breakfast with Sherry," he

\n

\n said.  "We're going to her parents' for lunch.  I am not sure what

\n

\n time I'll be home, so you don't need to fix dinner tonight."    

\n

\n Without saying goodbye, he left; taking his cup with him.

\n

\n      

\n

\n      It had been after ten before he got home that night.  I had

\n

\n spent the day at my parents', but didn't enjoy it.  Marc had taken

\n

\n a shower when he got home and I got up and tried the door from my

\n

\n bedroom.  It was locked.  After he finished his shower, I waited a

\n

\n few minutes for the light to go out, then I went into the bathroom.

\n

\n He had closed the door to his room and locked it.  I knocked gently

\n

\n on the door.   He yanked the door open.  He had put his robe on.

\n

\n I had never seen him wear a robe.  I could see anger in his eyes as

\n

\n he said, "It's been a long day, Shawn, what is it?"

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm sorry to bother you," I said, sadly.  "I'm sorry I told

\n

\n you how I feel.  I'll move in with my parents tomorrow and will

\n

\n find another apartment after the first."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I didn't wait for a response, I went back into my bedroom and

\n

\n closed the door.  I cried myself to sleep that night.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Morning came, but I was off so I didn't bother getting up and

\n

\n making coffee or breakfast.  I heard Marc in the shower.  Some time

\n

\n later I heard the front door close.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I called my parents and told them I needed to move in with

\n

\n them until I could get another apartment.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "We'd love to have you, Shawn," Dad said, "but Ron, Amy and

\n

\n the kids are here, remember?  They won't be leaving until after the

\n

\n first and we don't have any room to put you unless you want to

\n

\n sleep on the floor in the attic."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      My brother, Ron, had brought his wife and two kids in from out

\n

\n of town for the holidays.  My parents house was a small, two

\n

\n bedroom one bath.  It had been cramped when we were growing up,

\n

\n too.  We never had company over because the couch in the living

\n

\n room hadn't made a bed and the bedrooms were hardly big enough to

\n

\n put two twin beds or a double bed in.  Ron and I had bunk beds in

\n

\n our room and Mom and Dad had a full sized bed.  After Ron and I

\n

\n moved out, my parents had bought a sleeper sofa for the living

\n

\n room.  Ron and Amy were sleeping on it while they were there and

\n

\n the kids, ten year old Marty, and Sally, who was nine, were

\n

\n sleeping in the bunk beds in our old room.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I guess I'll stick it out until after the first, then," I

\n

\n said.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm sorry, Shawn," Dad said.  "What happened with you, two?

\n

\n You were always best friends."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I made the mistake of telling him I love him," I replied.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Oh, Shawn.  I'm sorry," Dad said, sympathetically.  "But if

\n

\n he really is your friend, he won't let that ruin your relationship."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I know it shouldn't," I agreed, "but it seems like it has.

\n

\n At least I only kissed him and didn't touch him," I added.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Well, why don't you come on over?" he asked.  "We might be

\n

\n able to take your mind off him for a while, anyway."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Thanks, Dad." I hung up and went into the kitchen.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Marc hadn't made coffee; he never had been the domestic kind.

\n

\n There was a note lying in front of the coffee maker. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Don't move out, Shawn," was all the note said, scribbled in

\n

\n Marc's handwriting.  He hadn't signed it.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I spent the day in a daze at Mom and Dad's.  The kids tried to

\n

\n get me to play games with them, but I wasn't in the mood.  I got

\n

\n home around eight-thirty.  It had been the worst Christmas of my

\n

\n life.  I couldn't tell if Marc had been home during the day or not.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I went into the bathroom and started filling up the bathtub.

\n

\n I had some bubble bath, so I poured a couple of cap fulls in the

\n

\n tub, then I went to my bedroom and undressed and pulled the cover

\n

\n back on the bed while I waited for the bathtub to fill.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I sunk into the hot water and sighed.  "Why had I been so

\n

\n stupid to tell Marc I loved him?" I asked myself.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Shawn, wake up," I heard Marc's deep voice.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I opened my eyes.  I was still in the water, which had turned

\n

\n cold.  I didn't know when I fell asleep.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Hi," I said, softly.  I blushed as I looked at him.  He was

\n

\n still dressed, but he knelt next to the tub and looked at me.  

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Dammit, Shawn," he said under his breath.  He stood up and

\n

\n went into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I let the water out of the tub and stood up and closed the

\n

\n curtain and took a shower to get the bubble bath off and rinse out

\n

\n the tub.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      When I finished my shower, I went into my bedroom and looked

\n

\n at the clock.  It was ten-thirty. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The next morning, I woke up and took a shower, got dressed and

\n

\n went into the kitchen and got a bowl of cereal for breakfast.  I

\n

\n didn't make anything for Marc.  Since I didn't drink coffee, I

\n

\n didn't make coffee, either.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I washed my dishes, went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth,

\n

\n then went over to my parents house.  Marc hadn't been up when I

\n

\n left.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The rest of the week we didn't see much of each other, if at

\n

\n all.  I spent most of my time with my parents and brother and his

\n

\n family and Marc apparently was spending his time with Sherry and

\n

\n her family.  If our paths did cross, he didn't say much more than

\n

\n 'hi', if even that.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      New Years Eve I got up, took my shower and poured myself a

\n

\n glass of milk and made a bowl of cereal.  I had just sat down at

\n

\n the table when he walked in, wearing his robe.

\n

\n      "Morning," he said.  I noticed a disappointed look toward the

\n

\n empty coffee pot, but he didn't ask me to make him any.  I didn't

\n

\n offer to, either.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Morning," I replied.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      To my surprise, he put a filter in the coffee maker, took the

\n

\n top off the coffee canister and put three scoops in the filter.  

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I started to tell him how many it took for the amount of

\n

\n coffee he drank; three cups, but decided against it.  He would have

\n

\n to ask or figure it out for himself.  He filled up the decanter

\n

\n with water to the three cup line then poured it into the maker.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He turned around and our eyes met.  I shivered under his gaze.

\n

\n I loved him so much and it was killing me to see him ignoring me

\n

\n this way.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I guess I'll get a shower while this brews," he said and

\n

\n headed out of the room.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I finished eating and put the dishes in the dish washer.  I

\n

\n knew that I would freeze him if I turned the washer on, so I

\n

\n decided against it.  It would only add fuel to the fire.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The coffee maker gurgled, indicating it was done.  I smiled as

\n

\n I looked at the strong coffee.  It didn't appear to be too strong.

\n

\n Marc wouldn't even notice it until he took a sip of it.  Because I

\n

\n did love him so much, I had to fight the urge to dump it out and

\n

\n make him some coffee the way he liked it.  The way I used to make

\n

\n it for him before I told him I loved him.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Hearing him turn the water off and not wanting to witness his

\n

\n discovery, I went into my bedroom and began making the bed.  I had

\n

\n just finished making the bed when I heard the hall door from the

\n

\n bathroom open.  I grabbed a book and lay down to read it.  I

\n

\n couldn't concentrate and read the same sentence three times and

\n

\n still didn't know what it said.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      A few minutes later, Marc stepped in the doorway from the

\n

\n hall.  "Shawn, we need to talk," he said.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I looked up at him.  He wore his robe and held the empty

\n

\n coffee decanter in his hand. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Okay," I said, rolling over onto my side.  "Have a seat," I

\n

\n gestured to the chair between the closet and the bathroom doors.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Let's go in the kitchen," he said.  "And I would appreciate

\n

\n it if you would make some coffee for me."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "But you made coffee before you got in the shower," I

\n

\n protested, trying to keep a straight face as I walked toward the

\n

\n door where he stood.  "You mean you've already drank it all?" 

\n

\n   

\n

\n      "You know damn well I put too much coffee in the filter,

\n

\n Shawn," he retorted.  "And you sat there and let me do it, too."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I blushed and he smiled.  "Thanks, I deserved that," he added

\n

\n softly, to my surprise.  He put his arm around me and hugged me.

\n

\n I breathed in the aroma of his cologne.  It was the cologne I

\n

\n bought him.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm sorry, Shawn.  I shouldn't have over-reacted.  I've

\n

\n really missed you this week.  This is the time of year we're

\n

\n supposed to be spreading love and peace throughout the world and

\n

\n that is all you did; just tell me you love me.  Forgive me for

\n

\n overreacting.  I had a feeling you were in love with me, I just

\n

\n wasn't ready for you to tell me."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm sorry I told you," I said.  "I won't do it again." 

\n

\n   

\n

\n      "It's okay.  I do love you as a friend," he said.  "I found

\n

\n out this week how much I love you.  I missed you so much."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I missed you, too," I admitted.  "Come on," I said, pulling

\n

\n away from him and taking the coffee pot from him.  "Let's get you

\n

\n some breakfast and some fresh coffee."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Sherry's having a New Year's Eve party tonight," Marc said as

\n

\n I put a clean filter in the coffee maker.  "If you don't have any

\n

\n plans tonight, she said that she'd love for you to come."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I frowned at him.  "You mean she doesn't mind that I am in

\n

\n love with you?" I asked.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He pursed his lips and sighed.  "Well, I haven't told her.

\n

\n She just thought that I was spending so much time with her because

\n

\n we were off this week.  We haven't talked about you this week.

\n

\n Mostly just our relationship and where it is going."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Where is it going?" I asked, timidly as I put a scoop and a

\n

\n half of grounds in the filter.  "If you don't mind my asking." 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "No, I don't," he replied.  "Until now you and I haven't had

\n

\n any secrets from each other; at least not that I know of."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "No, that was it.  I didn't know you knew I'm gay, but that

\n

\n was all."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Well, that's pretty obvious, Shawn," he said, rinsing out his

\n

\n coffee cup.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Oh," I said, sprinkling a half tea spoon of salt in the

\n

\n grounds. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "What'd you do that for?" he asked, puzzled.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "It takes the bitterness out," I replied.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Oh.  You always do that?"

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Yes.  That's why I won't let you put salt on anything," I

\n

\n replied.  "I season everything to taste while it's cooking." 

\n

\n   

\n

\n      "I was wondering why the coffee is always bitter at work," he

\n

\n said.  "I have also always been impressed that your cooking doesn't

\n

\n need any additional seasoning.  That's something else I've missed

\n

\n this week, Shawn, is your cooking."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I poured water into the coffee maker and sat it to start

\n

\n brewing.  "I've missed cooking for you, too," I admitted.  I let my

\n

\n hand rest on his chest and he hugged me.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Let's not do that again," he said softly.  "You can hug me

\n

\n and tell me you love me as often as you want to.  Just remember

\n

\n that I do love you as a friend only and that's as far as it can go.

\n

\n No more offers to take care of my boners or kisses on the lips,

\n

\n okay?"

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Okay," I promised.  "What do you want for breakfast?"

\n

\n    

\n

\n      "Scrambled eggs, biscuits and sausage," he replied.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He stood next to me while I fixed his breakfast.  "I don't

\n

\n know for sure where Sherry and I's relationship is going," he said.

\n

\n "I get the feeling she's pushing toward marriage, but I'm not sure

\n

\n I'm ready.  I love her, but I don't know if I want to be tied down

\n

\n yet."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "That is a big step," I said.  "Not something to be taken

\n

\n lightly.  And, as my mother told my brother before he got married,

\n

\n if you feel like you can get a divorce if it doesn't work out, then

\n

\n you shouldn't even get married because it won't work out.  You'll

\n

\n always be looking for a reason to get the divorce."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "That's true," Marc agreed.  "But the main reason I'm not sure

\n

\n is because this week without you being around has really been an

\n

\n eye-opener.  I know that we weren't on speaking terms and that

\n

\n makes a difference, but when I get married, I won't have you to

\n

\n cook for me, or just be here with me all the time.  I'm not sure

\n

\n I'm ready to go through life without you around all the time.

\n

\n Especially not after this week."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I blushed and he pulled me into his arms.  "I do love you,

\n

\n Shawn," he said.  "I have missed you so much this week."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I've missed you, too," I replied.  Even though I had

\n

\n permission to tell him I loved him, I wouldn't do it.  I didn't

\n

\n want to scare him off again.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The rest of the day we sat around watching the New Years Eve

\n

\n shows on TV.  He sat on the love seat and I lay on the couch.

\n

\n Around noon I made us lunch and at six I made supper.  It was good

\n

\n to be back to the way we had been, but I did notice that Marc

\n

\n didn't hug me as often as he used to; he also kept his distance. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      We went to Sherry's party and I wound up a wall flower.  A

\n

\n couple of girls asked me to dance and I did, just so I wouldn't be

\n

\n the gossip subject of the powder room.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      To my surprise and delight, when the countdown to midnight

\n

\n came, Marc appeared beside me and grabbed my arm.  "Come on,

\n

\n Shawn," he said.  He drug me over next to the TV where we were

\n

\n watching the countdown in Time Square in New York.  It was the

\n

\n first time that night we had been together.  The rest of the night

\n

\n he had spent with Sherry.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Marc handed me a glass of Champaign.  "I know you don't drink,

\n

\n Shawn," he said, "and you're going to have to drive us home, but

\n

\n you can take a sip for the toast."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He put his arm around Sherry and his left arm touched mine.

\n

\n I watched sadly as he kissed her as the countdown concluded.

\n

\n Everyone cheered and Marc, Sherry and I clinked glasses and drank

\n

\n to the New Year.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Marc put his arms around Sherry and they swayed as we all sang

\n

\n "Auld Lang Syne".

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The guests began to leave and I offered to stay and help

\n

\n Sherry with the clean up.  Not that I wanted to be around her, but

\n

\n it was the polite thing to do. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Don't worry about it, Shawn," she said.  "I've got maids to

\n

\n take care of the clean up.  Thanks for offering though."  Until

\n

\n then I hadn't really noticed that there had been two maids walking

\n

\n around all night serving beverages.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      After the holidays, Marc and I started back to work.  Our

\n

\n routine settled back down, but he never came in the bathroom to

\n

\n relieve himself in the mornings while I was showering any more.  He

\n

\n would always wear his robe into the kitchen for breakfast and after

\n

\n taking a shower in the evenings.  I never saw him nude anymore.

\n

\n But I guess it was for the best.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      At the end of May he announced that he was going to ask Sherry

\n

\n to marry him.  I wasn't surprised, but was still heartbroken.  He

\n

\n asked me to be his best man and I agreed to, without any

\n

\n enthusiasm.  To my surprise, they sat the date for June 15.  Not

\n

\n giving much time for planning the wedding.  What I didn't know was

\n

\n that Sherry had already planned her wedding some time ago and just

\n

\n had to get a man and put her plans into action.  Marc, being the

\n

\n non-imaginative type he was, didn't care to plan things, so he was

\n

\n happy that she had already planned everything and he didn't have to

\n

\n do anything but give her the names and addresses of the people he

\n

\n wanted to invite and be fitted for his tux, which she had also

\n

\n picked out.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Excuse me, Mr. Dennison," the sales person broke my thoughts

\n

\n and I pulled away from Marc's warm hug.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Yes, sir?" I asked.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Would you like to try on your smoking, also?" he asked, handing

\n

\n me the powder blue tuxedo.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Thank you," I said, taking it.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I took it into the dressing room and changed into it.  It fit

\n

\n perfectly.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Let me see, Shawn," Marc called from the other side of the

\n

\n curtain.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I stepped out of the dressing room.  Marc smiled approvingly

\n

\n as I turned for him to see how it fit.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Perfect," he said.  "I guess we'll go ahead and take both of

\n

\n them with us," Marc said to the sales person.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Very well.  I'll put them in a suit bag for you.  You can

\n

\n return both of them after the wedding tomorrow, Mr. Dennison."

\n

\n   

\n

\n      "How many people are supposed to be here tomorrow?" I asked

\n

\n after we had gotten in the car and headed toward the church for

\n

\n rehearsal.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I just invited my parents and my brother, Karl," he said.  "I

\n

\n don't know how many Sherry's invited.  I'm sure the church will be

\n

\n packed though.  She's got lots of friends."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Do your parents and brother have a place to stay?" I asked as

\n

\n he turned into the parking lot.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Yeah, they're staying at the Marriot.  Sherry's got rooms for

\n

\n everyone that's coming in."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "That's good," I said, getting out of the car.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      During the rehearsal, I noticed that Marc kept looking at me,

\n

\n but he didn't said anything.  When we finished, his future father-

\n

\n in-law put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Now Shawn, it is the

\n

\n responsibility of the best man to make sure that the groom doesn't

\n

\n get too drunk or laid at the bachelor party; and also to make sure

\n

\n that the groom isn't late for the wedding."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I looked at Marc and he grinned.  I hadn't realized until then

\n

\n that we hadn't discussed a bachelor party.  "Don't worry, Mr.

\n

\n Martin," Marc said, putting his arm around me.  "Shawn will take

\n

\n good care of me."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Good.  We'll see you in the morning then," Mr. Martin said.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Marc kissed Sherry good night and we headed out to the car.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm sorry I didn't think about a bachelor party," I said,

\n

\n buckling my seat belt.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Don't worry about it," Marc said driving out of the parking

\n

\n lot.  "All the guys at work are married and so is Karl.  You're the

\n

\n only friend I've got and I don't think you have any friends besides

\n

\n me, since you're always home.  So there's no one to invite anyway."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I blushed and looked out the window.  I hadn't realized that

\n

\n since we had graduated all the friends we had in college had moved

\n

\n away or gotten jobs and had their own lives.  Marc and I had stuck

\n

\n together like glue.  Except for work and the weekly visit to my

\n

\n parents, I didn't have anyone in my life except for Marc.  It would

\n

\n have been the perfect relationship if we were lovers.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      To my surprise, Marc drove the car into the parking lot of a

\n

\n local gay bar.  I had been there a few times, but not since we

\n

\n graduated.  "I figured we could spend our last evening together

\n

\n here," he said, opening the car door.  "We can dance and you can

\n

\n get me drunk and drive me home.  Just make sure I don't get too

\n

\n drunk and don't get laid," he added with a grin.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I was surprised that Marc kept one hand on my hip most of the

\n

\n night, showing all the other queens in the bar that he was taken.

\n

\n I received several looks indicating some of the guys were jealous

\n

\n of me for catching him.  I just wished that I had caught him.

\n

\n    

\n

\n      After a few drinks, he leaned over and brushed his lips

\n

\n against my cheek.  "I gotta go piss," he said.  "Come with me so no

\n

\n one will try anything."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I had to bite my lip to keep from asking him what would keep

\n

\n me from trying anything.  I followed him into the rest room.  It

\n

\n was packed.  We barely found a place in front of the urinal to

\n

\n relieve ourselves.  He pulled me close to him and stood next to the

\n

\n wall.  I was between him and the rest of the people at the trough.

\n

\n He pulled his member out and began to urinate.  I was trying to

\n

\n remain calm as I took my own out and relieved myself, too.  It was

\n

\n the first time since Christmas that I had seen his.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      We stayed at the club for a few more hours and it was about

\n

\n midnight when he finally said he was ready to go home.  I drove us

\n

\n home and he slumped in the seat beside me and almost went to sleep.

\n

\n  

\n

\n     "We're home, Marc," I said, shaking him gently.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      We walked up the stairs in silence.  He pulled me into his

\n

\n arms after closing the door and held me for a moment.  "Thanks for

\n

\n spending this evening with me, Shawn," he whispered against my ear.

\n

\n "I'm really going to miss you."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm going to miss you, too, Marc," I said.  My body trembled

\n

\n and I kissed him gently on the cheek. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "You smell like smoke," he said, pulling away.  "Why don't you

\n

\n get a shower and get to bed?  I'll take one and get to bed, too.

\n

\n We need to be at the church at eight."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Marc was sitting on the floor in front of the TV in the living

\n

\n room when I came out of the shower.  "What's on?" I asked, wrapping

\n

\n the towel around my waist.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Just the weather," he replied, standing up.  "Sherry and I's

\n

\n plane leaves at eleven tomorrow morning, so I was checking to see

\n

\n if it's going to be delayed for rain or anything.  And our cruise

\n

\n starts day after tomorrow and it's going to be smooth sailing,

\n

\n also."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "That's good," I replied.  "The bathroom's all yours."

\n

\n     

\n

\n      I turned to go into my room, but stopped and turned to face

\n

\n him as he took his shirt off.  "Thanks again for taking me to the

\n

\n bar tonight," I said.  "I had a good time."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He smiled and kissed me on the cheek.  "Thank you for

\n

\n protecting me from all those guys.  I might have gotten raped if

\n

\n you hadn't been there."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I grinned at him.  "You might yet," I said, then bit my tongue

\n

\n and blushed.  "I'm sorry," I said.  "Good night."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Good night, Shawn," he said, softly.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I went into the bedroom and closed the door.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I didn't get much sleep but the next morning I was asleep when

\n

\n the alarm went off at six-thirty.  I got up and took a shower.  I

\n

\n had just opened the curtain and reached for a towel when the

\n

\n bathroom door to Marc's room opened and Marc walked in.  He was

\n

\n nude and had a hardon.  He hadn't done that since I told him how I

\n

\n felt about him.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He grinned at me and took his eight inch boner in his hand and

\n

\n stroked it a couple of times, then aimed it at the toilet and let

\n

\n a stream of clear liquid flow from the slit in the head of it.

\n

\n "Morning, Shawn," he said.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Morning," I replied, stepping out of the tub and making sure

\n

\n that my arm touched his.  "Are you ready for your big day?" 

\n

\n   

\n

\n      "As ready as I will ever be, I guess," he replied, shaking the

\n

\n last few drops from his organ.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "That's good," I said, replacing the towel on the bar above

\n

\n the toilet.  I glanced down at his organ.  Most of the blood had

\n

\n left it, but it was still a little swollen.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He stepped around me;, brushing against me, not only with his

\n

\n upper body, but with his organ, also, as he climbed into the tub.

\n

\n "Did you leave me any hot water?" he teased, acting as though he

\n

\n didn't notice we had touched.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I smiled at him.  "Yes," I replied.  "But I'm going to go turn

\n

\n on the water in the kitchen just for the fun of it."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "You'd better not," he replied, pulling the curtain closed. 

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I stepped over to the end of the tub as he turned the water on

\n

\n and peered into the shower.  He put his head under the stream of

\n

\n water and wet his hair.  "What do you want for breakfast?" I asked.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He turned around to look at me.  "I couldn't eat anything this

\n

\n morning, Shawn," he said.  "I'm on nerves edge anyway and didn't

\n

\n get much sleep.  If you'll just get me a pot of coffee I'll make it

\n

\n through the ceremony."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Okay," I said and left the room.  I went into the kitchen and

\n

\n started his coffee.  I figured I'd better make him some toast, just

\n

\n to give the butterflies in his stomach something to chew on before

\n

\n they were drowned by the pot of coffee.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I had just buttered the last piece when Marc placed his warm

\n

\n hand on my shoulder.  "Aren't you going to get dressed this

\n

\n morning?" he asked, kissing me gently on the cheek.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I didn't want to get anything on the smoking," I replied, turning

\n

\n around to face him.  He had wrapped a towel around his waist.  He

\n

\n put his arms around me and hugged me.  I melted in his warm strong

\n

\n arms.  Our bare chests were pressed together.  I loved the feel of

\n

\n his warm hairy chest against my smooth one.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He ran his hand down my back and placed it on my bare hip.

\n

\n "Thanks for making coffee for me, Shawn," he said, softly.  He

\n

\n didn't make any move to break the hug and I wasn't about to,

\n

\n either.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I made us some toast, too," I said.  "You need to eat

\n

\n something.  It might calm your nerves a bit."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm going to miss your cooking, Shawn," he said.  "Sherry can

\n

\n cook, but not as good as you.  And she wants to keep at least one

\n

\n maid so she doesn't have to."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'm going to miss you," I said, softly.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      He squeezed my hip and pulled me a little closer to him.  The

\n

\n blood had already engorged my organ and I tried to move away from

\n

\n him so he wouldn't feel it pressing against him, but he still had

\n

\n his hand on my hip and he pulled me closer against him, pressing my

\n

\n hard organ against his limp one through the towel.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Still holding us together at the crotch, he leaned back and

\n

\n looked into my eyes.  "Thank you for making toast," he said.  "I'll

\n

\n eat some.  Why don't you go to your room and take care of that and

\n

\n get dressed?" he suggested.  "I'll get dressed in a little bit and

\n

\n we'll head over to the church."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I blushed and he let go of me and I turned and hurried into my

\n

\n room.  I was so embarrassed.  The blood had gone from my organ to

\n

\n my face and I was limp by the time I got out of the kitchen.  I

\n

\n brushed my teeth, made my bed and got dressed in my smoking.  Marc was

\n

\n in his room getting dressed when I left my room.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I guess we should go in your car," he called as I walked

\n

\n toward the living room.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I went down the hall to his bedroom door and stood watching

\n

\n him dress.  "That might be a good idea," I said.  "But aren't you

\n

\n going to the airport after the reception?"

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Yeah, but Mr. Martin's got a limo that's going to take us."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Oh," I said.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Yeah, that's what I thought, too," he agreed, putting on his

\n

\n shirt.  "Would you tie this for me?" he asked, holding the tie out

\n

\n to me.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Sure," I replied.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "I'll put my suitcase in your trunk because the limo won't be

\n

\n at the church until after the wedding starts.  We can get it out

\n

\n before we go to the reception.  It's going to be at the Marriot."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Both of us were nervous wrecks standing at the front of the

\n

\n church waiting for the music to start and Sherry to come down the

\n

\n isle on her father's arm.  The church was packed.  Neither Marc nor

\n

\n I knew anyone there except Sherry's parents and Marc's parents and

\n

\n brother, Karl.  My parents knew Marc since I had known him for

\n

\n three years, but they weren't close enough to him to come to the

\n

\n wedding.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Thanks again for doing this for me, Shawn," Marc whispered

\n

\n leaning over and bumping his arm against mine.  "Please don't

\n

\n object when he asks who objects."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "You know I wouldn't do that," I replied.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Yeah, I do," he replied.  "Sorry."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "It's okay.  I'd like to, but I won't."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "You've got the ring?" he asked.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Yes," I replied, holding it up for him to see.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "Thanks.  Sorry I'm a nervous wreck."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      "It's okay.  I am, too."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The music started.  Every head in the church turned to look

\n

\n down the isle to watch the bride come down to where we stood. 

\n

\n   

\n

\n      The gown Sherry wore was pure white and had a long train.  Too

\n

\n long, I thought.  Her veil was a thick white that covered her face

\n

\n completely.  I couldn't tell how she could see through it to walk.

\n

\n No one could see her face.  We didn't even know for sure that it

\n

\n was Sherry under it.  Seeing the veil, I wished I had told Marc I

\n

\n couldn't stand up for him because I loved him too much and gone and

\n

\n conked Sherry on the head and tied her up and put the dress on.

\n

\n Then I could be the one walking down the isle to Marc.  No one

\n

\n would know it was me until it was time for the kiss.  Then it would

\n

\n be too late.  We'd be married.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Mr. Martin's handsome face beamed as he walked slowly down the

\n

\n isle with his daughter on his arm.  He liked Marc and was happy

\n

\n that she had landed him.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      When Mr. Martin handed Marc Sherry's hand, he smiled at me and

\n

\n whispered, "Thank you."

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I nodded and we turned to face the pastor.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The ceremony began.  Again, Marc looked at me like he had the

\n

\n night before at rehearsal.  The butterflies in my stomach were                                     

\n

\n worse than his, I thought, but knew better.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      The pastor asked for the ring and I handed it to Marc.  He

\n

\n held my hand for a moment as he took it and looked deep into my

\n

\n eyes.  I wished I could read his mind.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      I noticed him tense up when the pastor asked her if she took

\n

\n him for hers forever.  She said, "I do."  Even though we couldn't

\n

\n see her face, I could tell it was Sherry's voice.

\n

\n  

\n

\n      Marc placed the ring on her finger and held it while the

\n

\n pastor asked him if he took her for his for forever.

\n