The Good Life Ch. 01

I laugh about it now, but, Jesus, if love had been an oncoming car, I would never have known what hit me. If the word "love" had crept into my ever more frequent and affectionate thoughts of him, even once, I might have caught myself before it was too late.

It was about two months after Evan had pulled me over and I stopped by the station to pick him up for lunch. I was going to get his attention and then wait outside while he got ready, not wanting to cause a stir. I knew that things were hard for him, that he had to work twice as hard as anyone else to get just a hint of respect. Before I could flag Evan down I was intercepted by Henry Dyson, the dickhead cop from the day of the accident. He grinned at me, not exactly malevolently but with more than a little condescension.

"Hey Chamberlain," he said loud enough for the whole room to hear, "your boyfriend's here." I could see Evan at his desk flinch. I'm generally an easy going person, but I had never met a guy in my life that I wanted so frequently to punch in the face. I smiled tightly at him. "We're actually just friends, Officer Dyson." And thanks as always for being an asshole.

Dyson was the worst, but the other officers, his Lieutenant, even the receptionist all treated Evan like there was something wrong with him. Not cruelly exactly, but with a mix of awkwardness and doubt, like he had some sort of disease. Dyson was a lout, he should have been the exception. Evan was a good cop and had paid his dues, but nobody really trusted him. He was a great guy, but nobody really like him. He kept telling me that all they needed was more time (how much did they need?), but as I got to know him I thought he was becoming less sure. Of course he had to keep telling himself he believed it, because being a cop was all he had. Helping and protecting others was his whole life, his calling, his reason for existing. If he didn't have that... High school had been brutal, but in a way this was worse. This was the rest of his life.

As we walked to the diner I apologized for causing a scene. "I should have known better than to come by. I'll call from now on."

He shook it off. "If it's not one thing it's another. Don't worry about it."

We were silent for a moment, then Evan smiled. I loved it when he smiled. "Dyson really does think we're dating, you know."

I laughed, more from seeing Evan smile than because of some macho cop's idiot misconceptions. Like a gay guy couldn't have platonic male friends. "We'd make a good looking couple, though." I was joking of course, but something inside of me clicked, and perhaps inevitably it put a thought in my head that had never been there before.

That night my dreams were all shaken up. It was of course not unusual for me to dream about guys, usually the generic handsome stud who would moan and buck as I plowed him mechanically into the mattress, but this was something else entirely. For one thing, my dreams had never involved kissing.

But in this dream I was kissing someone, hot and heavy. I pulled away and saw that it was Evan. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and kissed me again, firm and deep. With my head swimming from the sensation of his tongue tracing the lines on the roof of my mouth I let my hands explore his lean sinewy body. As I traced my fingers from his shoulders down his chest to his stomach and finally grasped his firm shaft, his mouth was suddenly no longer pressed to mine but sucking my dick with reckless abandon. I thrashed and groaned as a release the likes of which I had been holding back my entire life built up in me. It was the best fucking feeling in the world. Every bit of my body was on fire. I had just enough awareness to shove Evan onto his back and push into him, burying myself into his warm writhing body, before exploding.

When I jolted awake I was nearly gasping for air, and my heart was beating out of my chest. I jumped up to get a drink of water and only then did I notice the warm stickiness between my legs. Christ, I hadn't had a wet dream since I was a teenager. I gulped down a glass of water and then took a long cool shower. What the hell was that? I had never even looked at Evan that way before, and now it was like having the blinders ripped off my eyes. But it was much, much more than that and I knew it. I knew lust, and this wasn't lust. At least not only lust. It was a tight feeling in my chest, like someone squeezing me from the inside. It made me want to smile and cry at the same time. I couldn't be blind to it any more. God help me, I was head over heels crazy in love with Evan.

What a mess.

I couldn't sleep the rest of the night. At five o'clock I gave up and took out my feelings on the treadmill. I couldn't get that dream out of my head. The feel of Evan's hot skin under my hands, his tongue in my mouth, his tight warm...God, if I kept thinking about it I was going to do something that I would regret. After an hour and a half I had run myself to exhaustion, but that only helped a little. I had just decided to go to campus early to study at the library when I got a call from the last person in the world I wanted to talk to right now.

"Hey Evan," I said as normally as possible.

"Hey Charlie." Just the sound of his voice made my heart skip. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

A shiver ran through my body. "No, I'm just leaving. What's up?"

"My building's being fumigated. Is it okay if I sleep on your couch for a few days?"

Panic time. "What about..." Shit. He didn't have any other friends. I froze.

"Is everything okay?" Evan said after a while. My mind was a blank. "You know, it's okay for you to say no. It won't hurt my..."

"Of course you can stay," I blurted out. It would be difficult, but he was my best friend after all. "Sorry about the brain freeze, I haven't had my caffeine yet."

"Great, I'll bring my stuff over this afternoon. We still on for tennis later?"

"Sure, see you." I hung up. Well, I was committed now. The sensible thing would have been to break our friendship off now, take some time to get him out of my system, and move on with my life. But even if I thought that would work (which I didn't), I couldn't do that to him. I was just a friend, but I was the only one he had.

Despite my long run I decided to walk to campus to give myself a chance to think. What was I going to do? Were all my old plans even still an option? Before today I had been certain that I was capable of remaining emotionally and physically loyal to a wife. I would even love her in my own way. But now? How could I get married when I was desperately in love with someone else? I just couldn't be that cruel to myself or to any woman. That was a bitter pill. I really wanted to have kids someday, and the thought of growing old and dying alone was not something I liked to consider. But there was a third option. And, scary as it was, I started to let myself explore it.

Could I actually -- a giddy thrill passed through me at the very thought -- could I throw away all my old plans for the future, the approval of my parents, the acceptance of society, the serenity of a normal life, give all that up and pursue a relationship with Evan? I laughed out loud. The answer was so obvious. I could. I absolutely could. I could give it all up in a heartbeat for him. I knew it would be hard. I was nowhere near as strong or brave as Evan, and I had seen what being openly gay in this town did to him. But in the stupid, blind, blissful state of mind I was in it didn't matter. We would have each other.

But there was a problem. It was like walking into a wall when the obvious thought struck me - why on Earth would Evan want me? Sure we were friends now, but after how I had treated him in high school... It would almost be an act of self-hatred for Evan to ever be with me. That should have been a red light right there, but again my stupid blissful state overwhelmed reason. Well, it was his choice, and I wasn't about to give up before I began. I couldn't change what I had done but I could try to be a better person, and even if the odds were a hundred to one of him ever loving me it was well worth it. But how to move forward? If I came right out with it, that I loved him more than I ever thought I could love anyone, that I was willing to give up everything to be with him, despite his warning about coming out, it would only scare him away. I decided I would watch him carefully for any sign he had even the slightest feelings for me, and move from there.

When I met him for tennis I groaned. It was a hot day and he was wearing that raggy old tank top that had shrunk in the wash and clung so tight to his already sweating body. I was glad I wore an extra baggy pair of shorts. This was my first time being with him since I had realized how I felt, and I was somewhat surprised to realize that other than a little awkwardness, nothing was different. My feelings hadn't changed, I just understood them now. The only real difference was that now that I could let myself really enjoy watching him move, I was finding it hard to concentrate on the game.

By the time he moved into my apartment that afternoon I was beginning to wonder how long I could keep my hands off him. For two nights I couldn't sleep a wink just knowing he was right down the hall. He noticed I was acting weird but I just made up some excuse about a big term paper. I don't think he believed me. Besides, he was acting oddly too. I had assumed it was just a natural funk, until the third night just after I had finally drifted off to sleep I was wakened by a scream, followed by a crash and loud, "GOD DAMN IT!" When I got out to the living room I found the sheets on the couch an empty tangled mess, a plank of my coffee table snapped in two, and Evan bent over the kitchen sink.

"Evan! Jesus, are you okay?"

"Just a nightmare," he said breathlessly. He turned off the faucet and wiped the water from his face. "I'm sorry about your table. I didn't know where I was. I'll pay for a new one."

"Don't worry about it." He was visibly shaken. Before I knew what I was doing I wrapped my arms around him. He was tense for a moment, then relaxed into my chest and I rubbed his back. Physical displays weren't really my style, but he looked like he needed it.

"Sorry," he said into my night shirt. "Sometimes I go through these phases when I'll have nightmares every night. Sometimes for a week or more. It can get pretty bad. If I'd known it was coming I would have stayed at a hotel."

I held him tighter. "You don't have to be embarrassed. Don't leave." I hated the thought of him being alone like that. He nodded, then sighed and pulled away, leaving me feeling strangely empty. His sheets were soaked in sweat so I got him some new ones, and sat next to him until he fell asleep. Then I went to the computed in my room, did some research, and started reading up on PTSD.

The next night was even worse. Evan ended up on the floor with a badly bruised elbow and it took him ten minutes to calm down. I couldn't leave him alone, so for the rest of the night he slept in my bed. It was kind of awkward, since neither of us were used to sleeping with another person (however innocently). When he finally fell asleep and slept soundly through the rest of the night I insisted that he sleep in my bed for the rest of the week. I was coming to realize that there was something very painful he was still not telling me. It scared me to think how bad it must be considering he had already told me about most of the worst periods of his life - his dad breaking his jaw and throwing him out of the house the day he came out, spending the next two and a half years living in hotels and a cargo van, his first love claiming Evan had seduced him and giving him a black eye. I mean, God, what could be worse than all that? I started dropping hints that I knew something was wrong, but didn't push him. After he moved to my bed the nightmares stopped altogether. Every time he would start to whimper I would touch him, and it would pass. I would wake up with my arm draped over him, but if he minded he didn't say anything. The morning after his first full night's sleep he was bright and well rested and poked fun at my rubbery breakfast eggs. I was over the moon.

It was Saturday and he had the day off, so I decided on the spur of the moment to take him for a boys' day out. We spent the day riding the roller coasters at Six Flags and then caught a baseball game. I even sprung for the good seats in the lower deck behind the home team dugout, and about half a dozen hot dogs. It was the most fun I'd had since I was a kid, and Evan was fully back to his old self. When we got home I told him that I thought he should stay with me until he dealt with whatever was going on. Pretty convenient for me, huh, to have the perfect excuse to have him in my bed every night. I was still giddy from the day and must have let my guard down. I must have seemed too happy about it, because Evan gave me the oddest look, a look that made my stomach drop into my feet when I realized I had done it. I had tipped my hand. He knew. Well if this was it. I screwed up my courage and blurted out...

"I love you Evan. I know what you said about coming out, but I can't help it. I love you."

For twenty five seconds (I actually counted the ticks of my wall clock) he just stared at me. My hands were sweating. I was just beginning to panic when he took a step towards me. He was frowning, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows as he absently bit his lower lip - Oh my God was he sexy - and I could see in his green eyes his mind running a mile a minute. I had shocked the hell out of him, that was for sure. Another step and he was standing in front of me. He seemed to come to a decision and looked up into my eyes. I can't say what I saw there. If it had been conflict or reluctance I would have stopped right then, but I'm not sure I could even have remembered my own name at that point. Evan raised his hand and, so gingerly, reached out and touched my chest. An electric thrill shot through my entire body.

I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to me, pressing my lips against his temple. He was breathing as hard as me, and...Christ...I could feel his erection pressed against my thigh.

Looking back, I was being selfish. I was definitely deluding myself that I would have the willpower to be the friend Evan needed. I was so wrapped up that I didn't stop to think that he needed help, not a distraction. But the tiny bit of sense I had left was quickly flying out the window.

Suddenly he was tugging at my shirt, peeling it roughly over my head and then kissing and licking me up and down my chest and neck. Every contact went straight to my groin. I realized I was moaning loud enough the neighbors could probably hear, which just drove Evan even wilder. When he bit me on my stomach it pushed me so close to the edge I had to pull away. Evan looked at me, panting hard with a hungry light in his eyes.

"Need to slow down," I gasped. He nodded.

I leaned down to kiss him on the lips, and for just a split second I saw in his face that same bright panicky expression he used to have when we were teenagers and me and my friends had him cornered. That should have ended it right there. Instead I buried my face in his neck, holding him as close to me as I could.

He looked up at me apologetically, then smiled and nodded his head toward the bedroom. After the response I had gotten trying to kiss him the last thing I wanted was for him to feel vulnerable with me, so I tried to encourage him to take a dominant role (not to mention for the turn on factor on my part). But he wouldn't have it. I sat down on the edge of my bed hoping to pull him on top of me, but instead he dropped down between my knees, practically gasping for air as he undid my belt, button, and zipper. I knew vaguely that I should be the one doing this for him, but before the idea could form into action Evan slipped my cock out of my shorts and engulfed it in his hot warm mouth. I was completely lost. Evan went at it like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than suck my cock. I watched captivated as he moved up and down, taking my six inches all the way in, then pulling off to lick circles around my head. Aside from it being an infinitely better blow job than any I had ever received from my disinterested and/or grossed out high school girlfriends, this was Evan, the man I loved. Even if this had been his first (it clearly wasn't, I don't know why that bothered me a little bit), it would have been the best of my life. His rhythm faltered as he wiggled uncomfortably and tried to adjust the bulge in his pants.

"Why don't you take them off?" I offered helpfully. He nodded and broke away to undo his pants and drop them and his shorts to down to his thighs. He was too close to me for me to get a good look, but I could see his hand move down, and he gave a quiet moan as he started jacking himself. He grabbed the base of my cock with his free hand, ready to take me back into his mouth. I wasn't ready yet. I put my hand on his shoulder and he looked up at me questioningly. "Oh, God baby please let me look at you."

He looked almost shocked when I called him "baby", but he sat back onto his heels to give me a view. Realizing his shirt was in the way he pulled it off. "God, you are beautiful," I whispered. He blushed slightly, and I think he gave a faint smile. I had always loved the way he looked, and now I finally got a chance to really take it in. He had grown into his body since high school, but was a little on the gangly side. Aside from that he was in terrific shape, not a gym rat body but the body of someone who genuinely loved to get up and move. His hand never stopped stroking his cock, which was as long as mine but much thicker. Was I ready for it? You bet your sweet ass I was. After I don't know how long he couldn't stand it any more and started sucking me again. He brought me close a couple of times, to the point where my fingers would start digging into the warm flesh of his shoulders and I would start moaning his name, then he would slow down, letting me back off. I could already tell I was building to an incredible orgasm.

I wanted desperately to return the favor, to taste his precum and see how far I could swallow his thick cock, to give him some of the pleasure he was giving me. He finally pulled off and removed his pants, shorts, and shoes, and then mine. I tried to make a move, but before I could he grabbed me and lay down on the bed, pulling me on top of him. The feeling of our naked bodies pressed together, Evan wiggling under me as we sought for the right position, the right friction... When we found it sparks started going off in my head. Just rubbing together was better than any sex I had ever had. A couple times I tried to reverse positions, to roll over and have him on top of me, but he wouldn't budge. The whole time our faces were inches away.

More than anything else I wanted him to kiss me. I felt like until he did, this was nothing more than a mindless fuck, and that was the last thing in the world I wanted with him. Would it be like in my dream? The thought sent a tingle straight to my already well worked cock. But Evan wouldn't kiss me. Not on the mouth anyway. Whenever he looked like he might, or when I wanted to enough to let it show through, he would bury his face in my neck, licking and nipping almost roughly. I would have thought he wasn't thinking about me at all, except for the most intense look in his green eyes. For nearly the entire time I was pressing him into the bed, he stared me right in the eye like he was trying to see right through me. It might have been odd, but frankly by that point he could have punched me in the ribs and I would have thought it was sexy.

"Condom and lube?" He asked.