don’t want a pity kiss from you.”
Dave shut his eyes. “Damn, that’s not…” He paused. “I do love you, Frank, but I…I thought, maybe, I did love you the way you say you love me.” He shook his head. “I thought if I kissed you…Boy, did I blow it.”
Frank breathed deep, cupped Dave’s head and smiled. “No. That’s the problem. You didn’t blow it .” He dropped his hands. “Do I have to find a new apartment?”
“No. I guess not.” Dave grinned, full out. “But please, no show tunes now.”
Frank thrust out his right hand. “It’s a deal, but damn, I was hoping to take you to see Brokeback Mountain , the musical, next year.”
“Guess you’ll have to take someone else.”
Frank threw himself on the bed. “Jesus, I’m beat. I feel like I ran the marathon. I have to lie down for a while.”
Dave stared at him, his thoughts still whirling. He’d recovered fast enough from Frank’s bombshell, but couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. And that kiss. What the hell had he been thinking of? Damn, who was he kidding? He knew what he’d been thinking; he’d been thinking of it off and on for a while and since they’d been stranded in the cabin, it seemed it was all he’d been thinking. Christ, he was tired, too.
“Mind if I lie down next to you? You’re not the only one who’s run a mental race.”
“Sure.” Frank shrugged. “Not as if I’m going to jump your bones now.”
“Guess not.”
Dave stretched out on his side, his back to Frank. He did his best not to move, to remain unconcerned that Frank lay mere inches away from him.
He could hear him breathing.
He tried to remember if he had missed some sign or something. He had interrogated enough drag queens and runaway teenage boys willing to suck some bastard’s cock to score a fix to recognize the negative side of gay existence in the city’s alleyways. But Frank was nothing like the lowlifes that prowled the filthy streets.
He was Frank, his best friend who remembered his birthday, picked up the dry cleaning, went to the Knicks games with him and drank beer, and gorged on Chinese takeout late at night when he’d come home drained from dealing with some thirteen-year-old drug dealer.
And Frank loved him.
“Dave?”
He felt Frank’s hand touch his shoulder, and his warm breath on the back of his neck.
“Are you okay?”
The mattress sagged as Frank moved closer and his hand slid down his arm. Frank’s cock nudged his backside through his boxer shorts.
“Dave, can I just hold you? For a little while?”
Dave took a deep breath. God, Frankie, don’t touch me.
“Yeah, sure.”
He could barely hear Frank’s response. “Thanks.”
Frank’s fingers twined with his, and he rested their hands on Dave’s thigh. He pressed his lips against Dave’s shoulder. Oh, God, his lips are as soft as I’d imagined.
“Thanks for understanding.”
Dave trembled. Frank’s lips felt too good. He managed not to draw away. Damn if he would let an innocent expression of thanks disturb him.
Frank whispered in his ear.
“The first time I saw you naked in the shower after PE at Franklin High, I thought of Michelangeloʼs David . You were so perfect. Remember that bastard bully, Stewie Halperin? He caught me looking at you and said he would tell everyone I wanted to suck your dick. I punched him in the nose.” He chuckled. “He left me alone after that. Wouldn’t do to let anyone know he’d been beaten up by a queer.” His hand drifted around to Dave’s cock and he brushed it gently. It bucked against his fingers and Frank slowly ran his hand down its length.
“Don’t.” Dave’s voice was hoarse. Don’t stop.
“Please, Dave, let me just…please.”
Yes, please, please. I want to know.
Taking his time, giving Dave every opportunity to stop him, Frank slipped his hand beneath the silk material covering Dave’s prick. He felt his own flesh harden as he fondled Dave’s lengthening penis.
He shoved
Dave shut his eyes. “Damn, that’s not…” He paused. “I do love you, Frank, but I…I thought, maybe, I did love you the way you say you love me.” He shook his head. “I thought if I kissed you…Boy, did I blow it.”
Frank breathed deep, cupped Dave’s head and smiled. “No. That’s the problem. You didn’t blow it .” He dropped his hands. “Do I have to find a new apartment?”
“No. I guess not.” Dave grinned, full out. “But please, no show tunes now.”
Frank thrust out his right hand. “It’s a deal, but damn, I was hoping to take you to see Brokeback Mountain , the musical, next year.”
“Guess you’ll have to take someone else.”
Frank threw himself on the bed. “Jesus, I’m beat. I feel like I ran the marathon. I have to lie down for a while.”
Dave stared at him, his thoughts still whirling. He’d recovered fast enough from Frank’s bombshell, but couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. And that kiss. What the hell had he been thinking of? Damn, who was he kidding? He knew what he’d been thinking; he’d been thinking of it off and on for a while and since they’d been stranded in the cabin, it seemed it was all he’d been thinking. Christ, he was tired, too.
“Mind if I lie down next to you? You’re not the only one who’s run a mental race.”
“Sure.” Frank shrugged. “Not as if I’m going to jump your bones now.”
“Guess not.”
Dave stretched out on his side, his back to Frank. He did his best not to move, to remain unconcerned that Frank lay mere inches away from him.
He could hear him breathing.
He tried to remember if he had missed some sign or something. He had interrogated enough drag queens and runaway teenage boys willing to suck some bastard’s cock to score a fix to recognize the negative side of gay existence in the city’s alleyways. But Frank was nothing like the lowlifes that prowled the filthy streets.
He was Frank, his best friend who remembered his birthday, picked up the dry cleaning, went to the Knicks games with him and drank beer, and gorged on Chinese takeout late at night when he’d come home drained from dealing with some thirteen-year-old drug dealer.
And Frank loved him.
“Dave?”
He felt Frank’s hand touch his shoulder, and his warm breath on the back of his neck.
“Are you okay?”
The mattress sagged as Frank moved closer and his hand slid down his arm. Frank’s cock nudged his backside through his boxer shorts.
“Dave, can I just hold you? For a little while?”
Dave took a deep breath. God, Frankie, don’t touch me.
“Yeah, sure.”
He could barely hear Frank’s response. “Thanks.”
Frank’s fingers twined with his, and he rested their hands on Dave’s thigh. He pressed his lips against Dave’s shoulder. Oh, God, his lips are as soft as I’d imagined.
“Thanks for understanding.”
Dave trembled. Frank’s lips felt too good. He managed not to draw away. Damn if he would let an innocent expression of thanks disturb him.
Frank whispered in his ear.
“The first time I saw you naked in the shower after PE at Franklin High, I thought of Michelangeloʼs David . You were so perfect. Remember that bastard bully, Stewie Halperin? He caught me looking at you and said he would tell everyone I wanted to suck your dick. I punched him in the nose.” He chuckled. “He left me alone after that. Wouldn’t do to let anyone know he’d been beaten up by a queer.” His hand drifted around to Dave’s cock and he brushed it gently. It bucked against his fingers and Frank slowly ran his hand down its length.
“Don’t.” Dave’s voice was hoarse. Don’t stop.
“Please, Dave, let me just…please.”
Yes, please, please. I want to know.
Taking his time, giving Dave every opportunity to stop him, Frank slipped his hand beneath the silk material covering Dave’s prick. He felt his own flesh harden as he fondled Dave’s lengthening penis.
He shoved
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