A Decade of Gay Romance

Twelve Hours I by Drew Hunt

“Hey, Sammy. Wanna come over?”

“Huh?” Sam Patterson had been awakened by the ringing of his cell phone. He’d been in a dream where two muscle studs were slowly licking up his thighs and had been about to reach his…He blinked at his digital alarm clock. “It’s 3:17 in the f*****g morning! What the hell are you doing calling me now?” Sam rubbed his chin. Since he hadn’t shaved the previous couple days, his beard was itching.

“Sorry, man, just wanted to talk. Didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Well it is.” Sam’s rubbing moved up to his eyes.

“Sorry, dude. I was banging Jill earlier. You know how she can’t get enough of my meat and—”

Sam blocked out the rest of Zack’s bullshit. He didn’t want to hear about Jill. She was a slut, only hanging with Zack because he was the starting quarterback on the high school football team.

“…Sam, you still there?”

He realized he’d spaced out. Not surprising, given it was still the middle of the f*****g night. “Uh, yeah. I’ll be over tomorrow, maybe around lunchtime.”

“You…uh…couldn’t, uh, like…come now?” Gone was Zack’s cocky tone. He sounded small, even scared.

Sam sat up straighter in his bed. “Zack, what’s wrong?”

There was silence on the other end for the longest time. Then Sam heard a sniff.

“Zack, talk to me, man.”

“It’s nothing…I just…” Zack went silent.

“Just what?” Sam’s heart was starting to beat heavily. He’d never heard his friend sound like this.

There was another sniff. “It’s all f****d up.”

“What is?” Though he felt like saying, “You’ve only just noticed?”

“Everything. That Janet b***h is pregnant and says it’s mine.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“What you gonna do?” Sam couldn’t imagine Zack marrying her, but maybe that would be the best thing, settling down with a wife and kid.

“I said I’d give her some money to get rid of it.”

“s**t, Zack.” Obviously he wasn’t ready to settle down. Sam threw back the sheet and pulled on the jeans he’d tossed on the floor a few hours earlier. “Does Dennis know?”

Sam tried to do up the buttons on his fly one-handed, the other still holding the phone.

He’d known Zack had been sniffing around the ditzy blonde, but, like a true bud, he’d kept mum to Dennis, Janet’s boyfriend.

“Yeah, the b***h told him,” Zack said.

Sam imagined Dennis would be after Zack’s balls. In fact he was surprised Zack wasn’t calling from the hospital.

“I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Thanks, bud.” Then Zack hung up.

Sam stared up at his still dark ceiling, and prayed for strength. This had been the third call he’d gotten this summer in the middle of the night from Zack. The previous two times, his bud was just high, drunk or a combination of both. Although Zack was probably drunk this time, too, he had never sounded so…pathetic and needy.

“s**t!” Sam hadn’t asked if Zack’s folks were home. Even if they were, they probably wouldn’t be interested. They were well off, they gave Zack everything he wanted, but never spent any time with him. Hell, Zack’s dad hardly ever went to any of their football games. Sam knew that bothered Zack, though he’d never said anything.

As he walked down the hallway to the kitchen, ready to leave his dad a note, Sam remembered how his own dad always came to their games, unless his shift at the mill prevented it. Even then, his dad would try to get time off or move things around so he could be there.

Finally finding a pen that worked, Sam scribbled a quick note and propped it up by the coffee maker. His dad would be sure to see it when he got up for his shift in a couple hours.

* * * *

Zack paced the floor of the den. His life was such a f*****g mess. For years, he’d tried to ignore his problems, drinking, smoking or f*****g them out of his mind. But in recent weeks, no matter what he did, the scary thoughts kept creeping in. He couldn’t stop them.

Zack reached up and tugged at his hair. It was all over the place, but he didn’t give a s**t. He would normally spend ages on his hair, combing, gelling, and styling it just right. Jill would joke he spent longer on his hair than she did on hers. When she’d found out Janet was pregnant, and that he was probably the father, she’d dumped his ass.

He’d been at her house. She’d screamed and stamped her feet. She’d picked up everything from a hairbrush to CD’s, to a little statue of a pony he’d bought her, and had thrown them at him. He’d tried to talk her down, but when he’d gotten close, she’d slashed his cheek with her nails.

Zack reached up to his face. At least it had stopped bleeding.

He’d gotten the hell out of there. Her high-pitched screams had still been audible from the sidewalk. Once home, he’d lost no time in getting wasted on a bottle of his dad’s Bourbon. Then not really knowing why, he’d called Sam. He hadn’t known what to say, and, f**k, he hadn’t meant to start crying. What a fuckin’ p***y. But he couldn’t hold it in any more. He needed another drink.

Stumbling in the direction of his parents’ bar in the corner of the den, Zack tripped over the coffee table.

“Who the f**k put that there!”

As he tripped, the glass in his hand knocked against the table and broke, shards scattering over the carpet.

Recovering, he stepped around the broken glass, made it to the bar, splashed a healthy slug of bourbon into another tumbler, added some ice, and threw back the glass’s contents.

“Zack?”

Sam’s voice startled Zack. He jerked his arm, and some of the liquor splashed onto his cheek, stinging like a motherfucker.

“Sumbitch!”

“Zack?” The voice was closer. “What the f**k you been doin’, man?”

Sam’s fingers touched the edge of his cheek.

Zack found himself leaning into the touch. Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he jerked backward and swung at Sam. “What the f**k! You a fag or something?”

Sam stepped back, his hands held up in a gesture of peace.

The momentum of Zack’s punch caused him to overbalance. He landed face first on the carpet, the glass landing next to him, its contents forming a puddle near his right ear. He could smell the alcohol as it soaked into the carpet. His mom would go ape s**t. Suddenly, it all became too much. For close on six years, he had guarded the secret he’d held inside. But now, the break-up with Jill, his shitty parents, the pain in his cheek, and now in his chest, were too big a burden for him to cope with any more. He curled into a ball and started to sob.

“Hey, man, you okay? What’s…?”

Zack was too deep in his pit of misery to take in what his best bud was saying. His life had gone to s**t, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. God knows he’d played the blame game. It was the fault of his folks, his b***h of a girlfriend, the coach, anyone but himself. Finally, however, the chickens, or whatever the f**k the saying was, had come home to roost. He was a queer, a fag, a fudge packer. “I want to die!”

“Don’t say that!” Sam got down next to him.

Huh? Zack hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud. But it was true, he did want to die. He felt strong arms wrap around him. This time he didn’t fight them. “Please, Sam, help me.”

“You know I will. Always.”

Zack knew, once Sam found out what a disgusting pervert he was, he’d change his mind. But, for just then, Zack pulled the words close to him and snuggled into their safety.

“Come on. Let’s get you off the floor. I oughta get this place cleaned up a bit.”

Sam helped him stand. Everything inside Zack ached.

“f**k, you’re a mess.”

“Thanks, bitch.”

Sam smiled. Oh, God, those dimples! Zack felt himself falling toward his friend’s lips, lips that had haunted Zack for the past four years. At the last second, Zack managed to move his head so it landed on Sam’s broad shoulder instead.

“I got you, bud.” Sam’s arms tightened around Zack.

He instantly threw wood, and there was no f*****g way Sam couldn’t know. Zack started to panic. He tried to wrench himself loose, to go hide, to…

“It’s okay. It’s all okay,” Sam soothed, his low voice murmuring in Zack’s ear. “I got you.” He began rubbing circles on Zack’s back, causing him to lose it completely.

“I can’t. I can’t!” Zack’s body shook with fear and self-loathing. How dare Sam undo him so easily, lay his secrets bare like that. Zack channeled his fear into anger. His muscles tensed and, finally, he broke away from Sam’s embrace, took a step backward, and froze. The look of…Zack didn’t dare think about what he saw on Sam’s handsome rugged face.

Zack turned away and lurched toward the bar. “I need a drink.” He needed one now more than he’d ever needed one.

Sam took hold of Zack’s arm and spun him around. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“What are you, my f*****g mother?” Zack wrenched his arm free, but yet again fell over. Part of him wondered if Sam was right, that he had had enough to drink. But he quashed that. This time, he landed near the coffee table. He saw the broken glass.

His mind spun, his stomach clenched, and bile rose in his throat. He was a f**k up! Everything had gone wrong. He reached for the glass shards, wanting, needing to press them into him, to purge himself of his pain…end his pain. All he knew was he was in pain and he needed it to stop hurting.

“No!” Sam yelled, as the blood started to flow from Zack’s right wrist.

“Let f*****g go!” Zack tried to pull his arm from Sam’s grip…but he couldn’t. All that blood! He felt woozy, chilled. His vision was starting to gray at the edges.

“Oh, f**k! Zack!” Sam yelled, just before everything went black.

* * * *

Sam paced the floor of the ER’s waiting room. “What a night.”

He’d tried to get in touch with Zack’s ‘rents, but both their cell phones went directly to voicemail. He’d left messages, trying to explain as calmly as he could that their only son was in the hospital. Then he’d called his own dad. The call had woken him, but, as his dad had said, it was almost time for him to get up for work.

When his dad had asked him if he wanted him to come to the hospital,

Sam had said he was okay, there wouldn’t be anything his dad could have done anyway.

“I told Zack, uh, about me bein’ gay,” Sam whispered into the phone.

“How’d he take it?” Mr. Patterson asked, “Not well if he’s, uh…”

“No,” Sam added quickly. “Zack was trying to hurt himself. I think because he couldn’t cope with being gay himself.”

“Oh. He’s gay, too?” There was a pause. “How are you dealing, son?”

He was so thankful to his dad for understanding, for supporting and for loving him. “Doin’ okay, I think. But it was touch and go for a while.”

Sam closed his eyes, remembering the events of that night.

* * * *

At first, he thought Zack had passed out through loss of blood. There was plenty of it on the cream-colored carpet. But Zack soon came round, so it hadn’t been that. Then Sam remembered, Zack couldn’t stand the sight of blood.

The relief that washed through him had been short lived. Zack picked up another shard of glass and was about to cut himself again.

Sam dragged him across the room, sat on him, fished out his cell phone, and called 911.

During the call, and for ages afterward, Zack kicked and screamed that Sam should get off him.

“Shut the f**k up!” Sam told him at one point. “You’re going to the f*****g hospital ‘cause you’ll kill yourself otherwise and I…and I’m not going to let you.” He knew it sounded lame, but he couldn’t tell Zack the real reason why he was being a hard-ass.

Zack seemed to quiet then. Sam risked getting off of him, but sat ready, just in case he decided to do something stupid.

“Is that too tight?” Sam said, nodding at the emergency tourniquet he’d wrapped round Zack’s wrist. The dishtowel was soaked with blood, and Sam prayed he’d managed to stem the flow.

“It’s all right,” Zack said quietly.

They fell silent for the longest time; Sam kept glancing at his wristwatch, wondering when the f*****g ambulance would get to them.

“Why?” Sam looked down at his friend, who was still lying on the floor.

Zack turned his head away.

“You got so much going for you, man. You’re smart. You’re one of the best quarterbacks the school has had. You’ve got girls wetting their panties over you. Boys too.” Sam winced. “Uh, probably.”

“I can’t do it anymore,” Zack choked out, his voice echoing the defeat in his eyes.

“Do what?” Sam was relieved Zack hadn’t seemed to hear what he’d said about other guys. “Look, man, you gotta get your s**t together. You can’t go on like this.”

“That’s the f*****g point!” Zack yelled, and started to stand. “I don’t want to go on!”

Sam, not expecting Zack’s strong reaction, clumsily tackled him to the ground. Their faces were only inches apart. Sam could feel Zack’s breath ghosting over his face. What he wouldn’t give to just lean down and kiss him. Even with a slashed cheek, Zack was the most beautiful dude he’d ever seen. The high cheekbones, the long nose, the square strong jaw, the perfectly straight eyebrows.

“Oh, f**k it,” Zack said, just before raising his head and locking lips with Sam.

Even though their noses bumped and their teeth clashed, it was still the single most wonderful kiss Sam had ever received.

Zack withdrew. “Now you know why I want to kill myself.”

“Huh?” Sam was still in an euphoria of exploding fireworks. His best friend, the studly Zack Pierce, had just kissed him.

“Because I’m a fag!” Zack spat.

Sam shook his head. Zack was gay too? He couldn’t be that lucky. Sam swooped down and forced Zack’s lips open and ran his tongue inside his best friend’s mouth. Zack tasted of bourbon, of tortilla chips, but mostly of man. Sam couldn’t get enough.

Without even knowing he was doing it, Sam was rubbing himself against Zack’s crotch. And there was no mistaking it, Zack was hard. He was pushing up into the contact, grinding himself on Sam’s stiffness.

The doorbell rang.

“f**k!” they both said at the same time.

It was the EMT’s.

* * * *

“Son, you still there?” Mr. Patterson asked through the phone.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.”

A doctor came into the room and approached. “Are you with Zachary Pierce?”

“Listen, Dad, I gotta go, “

“Okay, son. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Sam snapped his cell closed and gave his full attention to the tired-looking doctor. “Is Zack going to be okay?”

“He was very lucky. The cut missed the main arteries in his wrist, so his injury is superficial.”

“Okay. Uh, what about nerve damage?”

The doctor shook his head. “The cut wasn’t very deep.”

Sam was beginning to think he’d been too hasty in calling 911.

“He’ll probably always have a scar, but it should fade some over time.”

“Uh huh.” Sam wasn’t too bothered about that. Zack would be okay, that was the main thing.

“He won’t tell us how he came by his injuries. Can you help with that?”

It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to tell the doctor that Zack had tried to off himself…but something stopped him. Zack would never forgive him if he told. Also, Sam prayed the reason for killing himself should no longer exist. Sam knew about him now, and he would make sure Zack got all the love and support his folks didn’t seem to want to give him.

“Uh, he was wasted. He broke a glass…he fell…in the wrong place…cut his hand.” Sam maintained eye contact; he wanted to appear as sincere as possible.

“And the injuries to his cheek?”

“His girl attacked him before dumping him. That’s why he got drunk.”

The doctor seemed to buy the explanation. He started in about how dangerous it was for Zack to drink so much. Sam listened, and promised he would keep an eye on Zack.

“Can I go see him?”

“Sure, we’re not keeping him.”

“But doesn’t he need a blood transfusion or something?” Sam was trying to remember what his blood type was; didn’t the biology teacher say something about him being a universal donor?

“No,” the doctor shook his head. “He didn’t lose all that much.”

Sam wanted to disagree. It had sure seemed like a lot, but he guessed the doctor knew what he was talking about.

“As he still lives at home, I’d like to get in contact with his parents, but…”

“They’re out of town. And anyway Zack is eighteen.”

“Will you take responsibility for him? I can’t find any sign of concussion, but he should be watched for the next twelve hours or so, just in case.”

“Sure, no problem.” Sam’s elation grew. Zack would be okay, and he got to take him home where he’d look after him. He began to formulate a plan, which included calling his dad back and asking him to come get them.

* * * *

Zack lay staring up at the fluorescent lights, one of which kept blinking. At long f*****g last, the doctors, techs, and Zack didn’t know who the f**k else, had stopped poking and prodding him. They’d also quit asking him questions. He hadn’t told them anything.

He ached everywhere. And worst of all, he had a jackhammer going off in his head. “God, I’m never going to drink again.” He closed his eyes. Had it really all happened like he thought it had? He’d been really wasted. Did Sam come over, did he kiss him, did Sam kiss him back? Zack wasn’t sure.

“Hey, bud. You ready to break out of here?”

Zack snapped his eyes open and saw Sam coming through a gap in the curtains, closing them behind him.

Zack couldn’t speak. He didn’t know whether to be embarrassed, ashamed, or grateful. He pleaded with his eyes for Sam to understand. His friend seemed to, because he approached the bed, leaned down, and laid a soft kiss right on Zack’s lips.

Zack whimpered. He hadn’t dreamed it. Sam was gay, too. There was a God after all.

“Don’t you ever f*****g scare me like that again!” Sam said, his quiet voice filled with anger.

“What?” Zack didn’t understand. Had he got it wrong?

“You and me are having a serious talk when I get you back to my house. Things are gonna change, big time.”

“But…”

“No more drinking.”

Zack had already promised himself that.

“No more pot.”

He wasn’t so sure about that one.

“And definitely no more girls.”

Zack smiled. “Yes, boss.”

“The doctor asked me if I knew how you’d hurt yourself.”

Zack paled.

“I just said your girlfriend had attacked and then dumped you. Then, later you got shitfaced. But you pull another stunt like that, and I’m dragging your ass to the nearest psych hospital and telling them everything.”

Zack blinked back tears. “I won’t, I promise.”

Sam took hold of Zack’s left hand and rubbed the knuckles with his thumb. “It’s a good thing we’ll be sharing the same dorm room in college. That way I can keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t screw up.”

Zack felt warm inside. Sam cared about him, even…no…he couldn’t allow himself to read too much into his friend’s words.

“I don’t care if we come out or if you need to stay in the closet.”

“I can’t come out. Football…my folks.” Zack started to get agitated.

“I said I didn’t care about that. But your ass is mine, and only mine. And the only place that d**k of yours is going is up my ass. Got it?” Sam’s eyes bored into him, pinning him to the bed.

“Got it,” Zack whispered, but he still was worried. His mom and dad; what would he tell them about being taken to the ER? They would find out when the insurance letter came.

As he worried, Zack became aware that Sam was running his hands down his chest.

Sam got as far as his groin, when Zack whispered, “Dude! We’re in the hospital.” But his d**k didn’t seem to care.

“Just wanted to pick up where we left off when the EMTs came.”

“Yeah, but,” Zack groaned as Sam’s fingers squeezed his aroused prick.

He pushed his hips up to increase the pressure.

“You guys done in there?” a voice asked. The curtain was drawn back to reveal a male nurse, who pushed in an empty wheelchair. “Are you all right, Mr. Pierce? You look flushed.”

“Uh.” Zack knew he was blushing.

“I think it’s a bit warm in here,” Sam said. “I’ll walk him around the car lot while we wait for my dad to come pick us up.”

The nurse winked. “Sounds like a plan. Just make sure you don’t overtax yourself, Mr. Pierce.”

“No,” Zack said, wanting the floor to swallow him up.

The nurse indicated the wheelchair and told them to let him know when they were ready to leave, and he would escort them out.

“What the f**k! I could…we could…” Zack said, once the nurse left.

Sam silenced him with a kiss. “Relax, he’s on our team.”

“Huh?” Zack didn’t remember that guy ever playing football at their high school. Then the penny dropped. “You mean he’s—?”

Sam snickered. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and we can finally finish what we’ve started twice.” He waggled his eyebrows, something Zack had always thought was really cute.

Zack was reluctant to move. Sam’s suggestion hadn’t done anything to soften things down there.

“Come on, I told Dad we’d be out front in,” Sam looked at his watch. “Five minutes.”

“Okay,” Zack huffed, throwing off the blanket.

* * * *

“What you thinking about, babe?” Zack asked him.

They were in Sam’s bed, where they’d headed immediately after coming back from the hospital. They’d slept for a few hours, but Sam was still wound up about Zack trying to hurt himself…how his best friend was gay…how they’d kissed and…

“Just stuff.”

“Nothing bad I hope.” Zack ran a hand along Sam’s butt.

“Not when you do that.”

Zack smiled. “You got one of the tightest, firmest asses on the team.”

“Oh?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You been checking out other guys’ asses?”

Zack blushed. “Uh, well.”

“It’s okay.” Sam kissed him. “So have I. Whose, apart from mine of course, do you like?”

“Uh,” Zack’s blush deepened.

“Come on, spill.”

“Well, Johnson’s ain’t bad.” Jimmy Johnson was a wide receiver on the junior varsity team.

“Yeah. He’s got some cute ass dimples,” Sam conceded. “But your body’s better. Love your t**s,” he said, pinching Zack’s n*****s.

Zack began keening with pleasure. “Lick ‘em. Please!”

“You sure? The nurse said to take it easy.”

“I’m good. Never better.” Zack gave him a winning smile.

“But if anything starts hurting, you tell me, okay?”

Zack answered with a kiss, which Sam returned.

The doorbell rang downstairs.

“Not a-f*****g-gain!” Sam groaned, resting his forehead on Zack’s shoulder.

Zack snickered, but stopped when they heard, “I know you’re both in there!” It was Dennis. He began to bang on the door. “Come on, open up, you bastards!”

“s**t!” Zack looked scared, not something Sam had ever seen prior to the previous night.

Sam kissed him and told him to stay where he was; he’d deal with Dennis.

They rose from the bed. Sam kissed Zack, and Zack kissed him back. All the while, Dennis continued with a barrage of bangs, rings on the bell, and shouts as Sam quickly donned a T-shirt and stepped into a pair of cutoffs. He left the room and ran down the stairs. “I’m f*****g coming!”

* * * *

Zack dressed, then went into Sam’s bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look any different—apart from the cheek—since he’d admitted he was a fag. Finding a comb on the vanity, he began to straighten his hair. He could hear raised voices coming from downstairs. Part of him wanted to continue to hide out, but he knew he’d have to face Dennis sometime. The old ‘straight’ Zack wouldn’t have hidden.

“And the new gay Zack ain’t gonna, either,” he told his reflection.

Squaring his shoulders, Zack unlocked the bathroom door and walked down the stairs.

“I’m telling you, man, you ain’t seeing him!” Sam was saying.

“The f**k I ain’t. That bastard f****d my girlfriend and got her pregnant. I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”

“You’re gonna what?” Zack said, rounding the corner and entering Sam’s kitchen.

Dennis made to launch himself at Zack, but Sam got a hold of him. They struggled, but Sam had a good thirty pounds of muscle and a couple inches of height on Dennis.

“You fucker!” Dennis snarled. It wasn’t clear to Zack who he was meaning.

“Whoa, man,” Sam tried to soothe.

“Look, bud, I’m real sorry,” Zack said, approaching the still struggling Dennis. “I know what I did was wrong, was…but there’s been…well, I can’t talk about it. But…I’m sorry.” Zack knew he sounded pathetic. What had happened to the tough guy he promised he was gonna be?

Dennis’s struggles let up, but Sam still held him.

“Why?” Dennis’s tone sounded more pleading than angry.

Zack sighed. “I dunno. We were alone, she said she wanted me and…”

Dennis started to struggle harder. “You f*****g bastard!”

“I didn’t force her, man. She was willing. I knew it was wrong all the time I was…but…”

Zack started pacing the floor. Dealing with this s**t was harder than he’d thought.

“You sure the kid is really Zack’s?” Sam asked quietly.

“She says so. But that’s not the f*****g point, is it?”

“Sam, let him go,” Zack said. “I probably deserve an ass whuppin.” He stood in the middle of the floor, his head down, his hands by his sides.

“Uh, okay,” Sam said.

Zack braced himself, but nothing seemed to happen. Then he felt hands on his biceps. Dennis started to shake him. “Why, man? Why’d you do it? You could have had any girl you wanted…why’d you f**k mine?”

Not knowing why, Zack put his arms around Dennis and gave him an awkward hug.

“You can f*****g have anyone…why’d you pick her?” Dennis sounded close to tears.

“I’m real sorry.” Zack had no idea what the f**k was going on. He should have been laid out cold on the tiles by this point; not hugging his potential assailant.

“The kid might not be mine. You two could still…”

“No, no.” Dennis was shaking his head. “Janet had always planned to go to some fancy-ass school in L.A. She’s got a rich uncle out there or something. She’s gonna still go, have the kid out there and…all I know is she doesn’t want anything more to do with me.”

“Christ,” Sam said.

“That’s rough, man,” Zack said, letting go of Dennis. “I’m sorry it was because of me you broke up.”

“Nah.” Dennis shook his head. “We weren’t gonna last anyway. She’d have never stayed around here. She wouldn’t a settled down with a guy like me.”

“Huh,” Zack said. “You’re a great guy. She could have done a lot worse.”

Dennis smiled. “Thanks, man.”

It was only a small smile, and didn’t last long, but Zack was still glad to see it. Part of him wanted to say he’d probably done Dennis a favor, but even he realized that wouldn’t go down well.

“But you haven’t come out of all of this without a few, um, scratches,” Dennis said. “I heard Jill got out her claws.”

“Uh, yeah.” Zack reached up and touched the bandage on his cheek.

“No more than you deserved,” Dennis added.

Zack shrugged. “I guess.”

“But what happened to your wrist?” Dennis asked.

“Uh, well,”

“He had a bit of an accident with a broken glass,” Sam put in.

“Oh.” Dennis didn’t add anything else, and Zack wasn’t about to, either.

They stood around, seeming not to know what else to say.

“Well, uh, guess I better go,” Dennis finally said.

Sam turned so his back was to Zack, but was facing Dennis. “You sure you’ll be all right, man? We could hang for a bit if you want.”

Zack didn’t want. The view of Sam’s firm ass and thick bare thighs in those cut offs had him boning up. And he would disconnect the doorbell, take the phone off the hook, anything so they wouldn’t be interrupted yet again.

“Naw, Momma wanted me to get something from the store. I’m already running late.”

“Okay, we’ll see you around.” Zack moved to the door to let Dennis out, then realized they were in Sam’s house.

Sam shot him an amused look. Dennis didn’t seem to notice.

“What about us three having a guy’s night out on the weekend? Now we’re all single again?” Sam asked.

“Yeah?” Dennis seemed to brighten at the idea.

“Sure, man,” Zack said, wishing Dennis would just go.

“Okay, so…guess I’ll see you Friday, then,” Dennis said.

“Yep, bye,” Zack said, and made for the stairs. Hopefully, Sam would get rid of him quickly.

* * * *

“Zack okay?” Dennis asked Sam.

“He’s still a bit wired after his visit to the ER. The doc said he should take it easy for a while.”

Dennis nodded. “In spite of what he did, I don’t hate him. Not really.”

“That’s good of you, bud.”

Sam realized Dennis was just being like all the others; forgiving or making excuses for Zack’s behavior.

“Yeah, suppose.”

“Zack’s had a lot of s**t going down lately.” The irony of his words wasn’t lost on him.

“He’s not the only one,” Dennis sighed. “Zack’s a good guy, underneath.”

Sam wondered if part of Dennis was in love with Zack. He shook his head to dispel the notion.

“Well, you better get to the store.” Sam put his hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah. Thanks for holding me back earlier.”

“No problem.”

“Okay, bye.” Dennis turned and stepped off the porch.

Sam watched him go. His shoulders were slumped; he looked so dejected. Dennis was a good guy. He hadn’t deserved the shitty hand of cards he’d been dealt, some of them by Zack. As he closed the door, Sam hoped his friend would soon find a girl who would be worthy of him.

All thoughts of Dennis left Sam as he sprinted up the stairs. “You got naked yet?”

“Come and see,” Zack called out.

Sam did, and wasn’t disappointed. He leapt on the bed next to Zack. They began to kiss passionately.

“You got too many clothes on,” Zack told him, once they’d drawn back for breath.

Sam soon stripped off his tee and cut offs. He’d gone commando, not having had time to put on underwear.

“God, you’re so big,” Zack said, taking hold of Sam’s rapidly inflating d**k.

“I’m not as long as you.”

“Yeah, but it’s thicker. God, it’s like a f*****g beer can.” Zack weighed Sam’s member in his hand. “Now, where were we before Dennis showed up?”

“Uh, I was licking your tits.”

“Yeah.” Zack kept on feeling up Sam’s d**k. “I want this bad puppy in me, but…”

Sam couldn’t believe Zack was talking about getting f****d. He thought he’d be the one on the receiving end. “I promise to go slow and be real gentle.”

“That’s what you said to Tiffany that time you wanted in her panties,” Zack snickered. “Remember, we were parked in back of the store. God, she screamed so loud when you rammed it in, I thought the cops were gonna show up.”

“She was the one who wanted it, and, anyways, I didn’t love her.” s**t! Sam thought. Why’d I say that?

Zack’s hand stilled on Sam’s d**k. He stared at Sam, who couldn’t look away.

Eventually, Zack licked his lips and whispered, “Uh, does that mean that you, uh, like sorta, love me?”

Sam wanted to deny it, wanted to…“Yes.”

“Oh, man!”

Zack launched himself at Sam, who thought his friend was about to eat him alive, he was kissing him so hard.

“Hey, man, careful. You’re only just out of the hospital.” Sam gripped Zack’s head and moved it away from his neck, so he could look into his friend’s face. It was wet with tears. “You okay?”

Zack nodded. “No one ever said they loved me. I can’t even remember my folks saying it. And they’re supposed to love me, right?”

Sam pulled Zack to him and wrapped him up in a hug. Once again, he was glad he had such an understanding dad. It hadn’t been easy for him, raising Sam alone, but he’d been the best parent Sam could have wished for.

When they’d got home from the hospital that morning, his dad had asked Zack if he was all right. He’d told Zack that he loved his son and the fact he was gay made no difference. Finally, before leaving for work, he’d told Zack that if he ever needed the advice of an “old dude,” his door was always open. Sam had never been more proud of his dad.

“It’s okay, bud. It’s okay.” Sam continued to make soothing noises to Zack.

He marveled at how different this needy and clingy Zack was from the confident, cocky, and often obnoxious guy he’d known all through high school. Rubbing circles on Zack’s spine, Sam knew he much preferred the current version of his friend.

Zack lay back on the bed. “If you promise to take it easy, and to pull out if I tell you, then…” Zack couldn’t meet Sam’s eyes.

“You sure?” Sam wanted nothing more than to sink himself into Zack, but he had to be certain Zack really wanted it.

“f**k me.”

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you, ‘specially as you’ve just been in the hospital.”

“Will you shut up about the f*****g hospital? And it was only my wrist. My ass is fine.”

Sam climbed on top of Zack and gave him the biggest, hardest kiss. “Anything you say. And I agree, your ass is fine. Real fine.”

Zack kissed him back. “Doofus.”

Growing serious, Sam cupped Zack’s cheeks and touched the pad of his thumb over the bandage. “I love you, Zack, so much.”

Zack opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t say anything. A part of Sam hurt, but he quashed it. Zack would say the words when he could. Sam wouldn’t force him.

Knowing it would be Zack’s first time for having something go up his ass, Sam didn’t hurry getting his lover prepared. Beginning with one lubed finger, Sam ran it around the ring of Zack’s ass. He didn’t attempt to push in.

“You need to relax, bud,” he whispered. “I promise I’ll go slow. “

It must have taken the best part of a half an hour as well as a quarter of the bottle of lube. All the while he was stretching Zack, he talked to him, kissed him, and played with him using his free hand.

Sam was no stranger to man-on-man action, but he’d never cared about his partners before. Getting off as quickly as possible, before someone spotted them, had always been foremost in his mind. Here, now, he could take his time. He’d make it the best he could for both of them.

By the time he was ready, Zack was begging to be f****d.

“Okay, how you want to do this?”

“Want to see you,” Zack whimpered.

“Uh, babe, face-to-face might not be the most comfortable for our first time.”

However, Zack was determined. So Sam parked his sheathed d**k at Zack’s entrance.

“Push down, like you’re about to take a dump.”

Zack opened a little and Sam moved forward.

“Oh, Jesus!” Zack said.

Sam held perfectly still. “Try not to move, babe. It’ll get easier in a minute.”

“No, take it out. Take it out!”

A reluctant Sam complied.

“I’m sorry.” Zack wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders. “I didn’t know it’d hurt that bad.”

“It’s okay.” Sam tried not to let his disappointment show, either on his face or in his voice.

They talked for a while. Zack kept apologizing, and Sam kept reassuring him. Sam offered to bottom instead, but Zack refused.

“No, I want us to have another try at it. I think I can handle it now.”

“You sure?” The last thing Sam wanted was to pressure him.

Zack nodded. “I’m sure.”

Sam took a fair while to stretch Zack open again. This time, he managed to persuade Zack to let him take him from behind.

“We can always turn you round later.”

Things went more smoothly…but Sam still went slow. It took a good five minutes—though Sam wasn’t watching the clock—before he was balls deep.

“f**k, man, you’re tight,” Sam said, sweat pouring off him. The effort at holding back had been enormous.

“Keep still for a minute.”

Sam had no problem with that. He was on the edge. Zack’s ass had his d**k in a vise, a warm, moist, pulsating vise.

“Okay, but go slow,” Zack told him.

Sam pulled out about an inch, then eased back in.

“Oh, God! Do it again,” Zack urged.

Sam did, but withdrew a bit farther before sliding back in. “Wow, man, you’re tight.”

Zack grunted, which Sam took as an invitation to keep on f*****g. He did, gradually building up in length and force, until the head of the bed was banging against the wall.

Part of Sam worried he might be hurting Zack, but Zack didn’t look as though he was experiencing anything other than pleasure.

“God, man! You’re so f*****g big!” Zack yelled.

“All the better to f**k you with.” Okay, the line was cheesy, but Sam had other things on his mind.

“Stop, man!”

“Huh?” But Sam managed to find the will to comply.

“Want to turn over, so I can see you.”

“Oh, okay.”

They had to disconnect to assume the new position—Zack facing him, his thick muscular legs up on Sam’s sweat soaked chest and shoulders.

“Yeah, much better,” Zack said, once Sam was fully seated back inside him.

Sam leaned down and took a kiss. “Sure is, handsome.”

Zack yelped as Sam pegged his prostate. “You think I’m handsome?”

As he continued his f*****g, Sam looked down at the muscular teen laid out in front of him. The small amount of blond body hair between his firm pecs narrowed to a thin line, which trailed down his six pack and spread into a bush around his c**k, which stood at attention. The hair was matted to the lightly tanned skin, which glistened with sweat.

“You’re f*****g beautiful, man.” Sam didn’t care if he sounded girly.

Zack grinned, showing a row of perfect white teeth. Sam had to lean down and claim another kiss.

“I’m getting close,” Sam said, once he’d risen onto his straight arms.

“Come for me.”

Sam increased the power of his thrusts. Somewhere, he heard a picture fall off the wall, the headboard was hitting it so hard. He was glad his dad wasn’t home.

Once, twice, three times and “Oh, f**k!” Sam held himself still, buried to the root inside Zack, as he pumped out what he knew to be one of the biggest loads ever.

He collapsed on top of Zack, with Zack’s legs opening and slipping to either side of him. Vaguely, he became aware of something hard poking him in his belly. It was Zack. He hadn’t come. Exhaustion mixed with guilt as Sam rolled off his lover and took hold of Zack’s d**k, slippery with pre-come.

“Sorry, man,” Sam said before going down on Zack. Within a couple or three bobs, he had Zack swallowed to the pubes.

“Oh, God, yes!” Zack shouted. “Jesus, man.” Zack held Sam’s head, but not tightly enough to stop Sam from moving up and down.

Sam stuck a finger up Zack’s still wide and greased chute, and quickly found his prostate. He used his throat muscles to stimulate Zack’s c**k-head.

“Oh, my God,” Zack said, sounding like it was all one word. “Jesus, yes!”

Sam felt Zack expand in his mouth, and felt the first blast go straight down his throat. He pulled back until only the head rested on his tongue. Sam was able to taste Zack’s sweetness as it fired, then oozed into his mouth.

“Oh, God, oh God,” Zack kept repeating like a mantra.

Finally, the flow abated. Sam licked at Zack’s tip.

“Too sensitive.” Zack rolled away, dislodging Sam’s mouth and finger. Sam sat up and Zack rolled back. He, too, sat up, and they kissed.

Zack said, “God, can you believe I’ve never tasted c*m before?”

“What you think of it?”

Zack smiled. “Not bad. I’ll have to try yours sometime real soon.”

Sam took that as meaning he’d be getting a blowjob before the day was done.

Zack got a serious look on his face. He laid his palms either side of Sam’s head, looked him in the eyes, and said, “Sam Thompson, I love you.”

Sam didn’t know what to say. He found himself blinking rapidly.

“I guess I’ve known it for years,” Zack continued, “but I was too f*****g chicken to admit it, even to myself,”

“It’s okay,” Sam whispered, moving aside a lock of Zack’s hair. “You finally managed to say it, and I’m over the f*****g moon that you did.”

“Thanks, man.”

They resumed their kissing. It was lazy, less frenetic than earlier.

Sam soon felt itchy and clammy as his sweat began to dry. His c**k shrank, and the condom slipped off.

“We need to wash up. You stink,” Zack said.

Sam made a production of sniffing Zack. “You do, too. Wanna share a shower?”

“Yeah, but.” Zack pointed to his face and his forearm.

“We could always put a plastic bag over your arm.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And over your head,” Sam snickered and ducked as Zack took a swipe at him.

“f**k off.”

“Okay, okay.” Sam took hold of Zack’s fists. “We’ll just keep the water away from your face.”

* * * *

Under the spray, Sam asked, “Want to scrub my back?”

“Sure, so long as you do me afterward.”

“I’ve just done you, remember?”

“Smart ass.” Zack slapped said ass.

“Hey. That’s prime teen ass you’re slapppin’.”

“I’ll be doing more than slapping it when we get out of here,” Zack returned.

“Boys?” Sam’s dad said from the other side of the bathroom door. “Just to let you know I’m back.”

Zack sprang from Sam, but Sam pulled him back and gave him a kiss, before shouting, “Thanks, Dad.”

Surely it wasn’t that late. Sam peeked at the digital clock on the shower radio. It read 3:17.

“Wow,” Sam said.

“What?”

“Look at the time.” Sam pointed to the display.

“So?”

“It was exactly this time twelve hours ago that you called me.”

“Twelve hours that changed my life.”

“Our lives,” Sam said, turning off the water, reaching for a towel, and beginning to dry his lover.

“Yeah. Our lives,” Zack agreed.

THE END