It was early morning and I awoke, the first few moments of disorientation of finding yourself in a strange bed and wondering whom you'd slept with the night before strong in my still sleepy mind. A firm pressure against my asscheeks and a reddish-haired arm draped across me reminded me of what had happened last night and I smiled as I snuggled back against my lover.

A year ago I would have laughed if anyone had said that Brendon and I would become lovers. I had just met him through a school event, and my first thought was, what a loser. He wore a pair of blue sweatpants with white stripes, a white ribbed tank-top (known as a 'wifebeater' in the local vernacular), an open green shirt that looked like it had been popular in the fifties, and a cotton fishing cap in a poisonous yellow-green color. Upon his smooth-shaven, pale face was a low grin that had elements of a sneer within it, and his eyes radiated irritation and boredom.

What I could see of his body (upper torso encased in the 'wifebeater') looked like it was in decent shape, although his belly extended a bit too much and the 'love handles' of his obliques were a bit pronounced. His arms, lightly dusted in pale red hair, looked muscular enough and had the pronounced veins that heralded a weightlifter. I turned my thoughts back to the group and we completed the first part of the evening. The rest of that event was a social at my apartment, and a group of students, Brendon and I arrived at my place a few minutes after that.

To make a long story short, that evening Brendon commandeered the social event and turned it into a counseling session. Claiming that he had worked with various gay student and AIDS organizations as a peer counselor (I found out later this was true), he asked penetrating questions of club members and listened like a professional as the students talked about issues at school and at work. Two hours later, the event ended, and the students were still talking and making plans to have another event like this one really soon. There were two students, George and Brendon left at my place, not having a ride, so I took them home. I dropped George off first, and then drove to the opposite end of town to take Brendon home.

We talked a bit more in the car, and I began to warm a little bit to the strange guy who was so close to my age and seemed to have so much experience. He invited me inside his apartment briefly and thanked me for the ride home. We talked a few minutes, then I returned to my home and cleaned up the kitchen and living room.

In the weeks that followed, Brendon became more and more active in the gay student club, and soon was working closely with George, the club chairperson to co chair our weekly meetings and events. The club became more vibrant and more 'with it,' for the students, and soon we had one of the largest memberships going on campus. We had two successful fundraisers and took club members down to the city for a dinner and a movie three times during the semester. We even provided assistance to a couple other clubs on campus by co-sponsoring some of their events. In all, the semester was a huge success and, at its end when George decided to leave school for a while and concentrate on his career, Brendon was elected as the new chairperson.

Brendon and I worked very closely, almost too closely for an advisor and chairperson, but something about him resonated with me and, as I found out later, with him as well. He began to tell me about his ex-lovers, especially one named Gene, who he had just broken up with before our first meeting a few weeks earlier. Before long, we knew almost each other's entire sexual histories, and had completed forging shining friendship links between us.

Another month or two went by, and Brendon met an attractive guy named Jonathan through a computer chat room and started an affair with him. Jonathan was just learning that he was bisexual, and was in the process of divorcing his wife of six years. There was too much missing experience on Jonathan's side, and not enough patience on Brendon's, and the relationship foundered between them to the point that I got a call from a crying Brendon asking me to come over right away. When I arrived at Brendon's apartment, he was sitting on his couch, his arms pulling his knees tightly against his chest, the tears streaming down his face as he choked out that he and Jonathan had broken up the night before, and showed me the hurtful, anguished E-mail that Jonathan had sent him that morning telling Brendon that he didn't want to see him again.

I came over and held Brendon tightly, my heart aching for my friend, and after a half-hour of torrential crying he slowly came out of his depression and softened into my arms briefly, before getting up and wiping his eyes dry. "Thank you, Mike," he said, giving me a big bear hug, "I'm glad you were here for me."

"I'll always be here for you, Bren," I said, returning the hug tightly, "that's what friends are for." I didn't tell Brendon that, in the course of our friendship that my own feelings were getting snarled up and that, quite possibly, I was falling in love with him. We chatted a bit and decided to go shopping, and about three hours later I returned him to his apartment and I returned to mine.

We spent a lot of time together, with Brendon telling me about his sexual conquests (all safe sex, mind you) and men/boys that he'd met on his weekend travels. I would listen, knowing that my friend was 'getting some,' and that this was what he wanted right now. I found my own feelings weren't as hurt by the anonymous sex as I would have thought, because there was no body or face to go with the name.

This changed abruptly one evening when I was speaking to Brendon on the phone. We had made Halloween night plans to go into town so that Brendon and I could really have a good time. That evening as I talked with Brendon, he told me about a boy he'd met just recently, a 20-year old with a puppy-fat body and a sweet smile. "Sam is just so cute!" Brendon gushed, obviously infatuated and in not too little lust, "He's really into me as well!" I asked if he'd had a chance to spend any 'quality time,' otherwise known by us as meaning sex for a long time. He just laughed and said that the tension was there, but he wasn't sure yet. "He really seems to like me, though, and that's OK."

Soon Sam had moved into Brendon's apartment with him, and now it was like 'the Sam show,' with everything revolving around this 20-year old circuit boy. Yes, Sam was cute, and yes, Sam's parents were loaded, but Sam had cultivated an attitude that was not cute nor something that would withstand the tensions of a relationship. Brendon was really in love with the boy, because their fighting was as epic as their lovemaking afterwards, or so I was told. I found myself during these three weeks becoming less and less 'connected' to Brendon, as he seemed to be less and less interested in being with me. One evening, as Brendon was telling me about the latest cute thing that Sam had done (amid the complaining about Sam's behavior, lack of help around the house and general relationship growing pains), I finally blurted out my strong feelings for Brendon. Silence reigned for only a few minutes, then Brendon, in the most subdued voice I have ever heard from him, said, "We need to get you a boyfriend of your own, so that you can have a life too."

With that statement, my heart broke, and I took Brendon home, back to his 20-year old and dropped him off, both of us saying nothing other than 'thanks for the ride.' I returned home and cried for the first time in nearly fifteen years over a man, and played all the sad songs I had played those fifteen years ago when I was depressed over a love gone wrong. I finally went to bed, unable to face the rest of the evening alone, and cried myself to sleep.

The next day Brendon walked into my office and closed the door, his face troubled as he sat beside me. "Mike," he said, reaching for my hand, "I want to apologize for last night. I hurt you, I knew that, but I couldn't see past my own feelings right then. You've always been a good friend to me, and always have been by my side when I needed you, and then I hit you when you're the most vulnerable. I had no right to say that to you, especially after you've told me that you love me. Would you forgive me for being too self-centered and acting like a diamond studded bastard to you last night?"

I smiled and grasped his hand. "Yes, I forgive you, Bren. I, too, should have been more understanding of your feelings, and perhaps not told you of how I felt so that I wouldn't complicate anything for you."

"Complicate?" Brendon laughed and stood up, pulling me to my feet. "You're the only sane one around here! Without you and your solid presence in my life, I would be a complete idiot right now!" He held me tightly and whispered in my ear, "Thank you for being here for me. I'm flattered and proud that you feel so strongly for me."

He let go of me and then said, "But, you know that right now I'm working on a relationship with Sam." I nodded, and he continued, "I love you too, Mike, but my feelings are so different for you than for Sam. I just want to eat Sam up every time I see him, but with you I'm secure and happy, comforted in your presence. The passion and fire is with Sam right now, but you're the one that I turn to for understanding and compassion."

I hugged him again and said "I've told you before, and will tell you again, I'm here for you, and always will be. I'm happy that you're happy, for your happiness is what it is all about for me."

Brendon smiled and, leaning forward quickly, kissed me on the lips. "Thank you again for forgiving me and understanding," he said, as he squeezed my hand before leaving my office. I watched him leave and felt the pieces of my heart slowly return to a more stable state.

Later that week Sam had to return to Los Angeles to do some work at the clubs, and also catch up on the work he'd put off to be with Brendon. I took Sam to the train station and he hugged me, saying to take care of his sweetie, and thanked me again for taking him to the station. I told him to hurry back, both Brendon and I would be missing him, and he smiled a bit wistfully at that and then walked toward the train. As if we were in one of those trashy romance novels, he turned and waved at me before he got aboard the train, and then sat where he could see me as the train pulled away. Yes indeed, Sam is a cutie, and the puppy-dog look he was sending to me through the window of the train all but tore my heart in two.

That evening Brendon and I got together for dinner, and when we returned to his place, he'd gotten a phone call from Sam. He called Sam back, and was on the phone for a total of two hours, both of them arguing back and forth about what each of them wanted and what they thought the other was saying. I was caught between leaving and letting Brendon finish his conversation without me, but he kept waving me back into my seat. Near the end of the bout (yes, it was verbal boxing) Brendon got up and walked into his bedroom, grabbing the portable phone and asking me to hang up the extension while he closed the door. I could still hear him through the thin walls of his apartment, and Sam was definitely not sparing Brendon's feelings one bit. I could hear the sobbing in the other room, and the choked replies, then it got quiet for a few minutes. I heard the click of the portable phone base that usually meant that the phone had been turned off, and then a few minutes later, the bedroom door opened and Brendon walked out, tears running down his face and clutching the phone so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Sam isn't coming back," he said, his voice breaking throughout, "he told me that he didn't feel comfortable with me and that, while he loved me, he didn't see any future in our lives together. " He sat and pulled his legs up, just like when Jonathan had dumped him, and continued, "Sam told me that it was too boring around here and that he needed people his own age to hang around with, so he was going to stay in LA and call it quits with me, since I wouldn't move up there to live with him."

I said nothing, just opened my arms and let Brendon move into them. I held him quietly as he cried, the tears soaking into my cotton shirt and rewetting his face. I stroked his shoulders and back, slowly and calmly, helping him purge his hurt feelings enough so that he could return to a 'normal' existence. We sat there a good hour, holding onto each other and Brendon's sobbing began to quiet, then ended.

He sat up and wiped his eyes, and looked down at me. My entire upper front half of my shirt was soaked in tears, the contours of my shoulders and pecs visible through the soaked fabric. Brendon laughed shakily and said, "You win the wet T shirt contest tonight!" I smiled and waited for him to give me the signals of what he wanted to do next.

He began pacing the floor, reliving the conversation as he began removing Sam objects from the apartment and packing them into paper bags. "All this shit goes to the DAV tomorrow!" he said, angrily shoving objects deep into the bags. "He told me that nothing in the apartment was worth anything to him, so I could just toss it if I wanted. Well, somebody's going to get something out of that bastard! If it isn't me, it will be some underprivileged person wearing his clothing! Let's see how he likes that!"

After the apartment was stripped of everything that had been Sam's, five bags stood beside the door. I noticed that, during sanitizing the apartment of the 'Sam virus,' Brendon had taken the few pictures of Sam and he and quietly slipped them into his desk drawer when he thought I wasn't looking. I knew that he'd do something like that, I watched him do the same with the photos of him and Jonathan when they broke up. Soon, he had burnt off the anger and was now just standing around. I asked him if he'd like to go shopping, to the store for food, or perhaps rent a movie, and he nodded, so we got into my car and went to get some ice cream and some movies.

It must have been nearly midnight by the time the last movie was over, and we'd eaten all the ice cream. Brendon was quiet throughout the evening, only smiling at funny bits on the screen and thoughtfully looking at me from time to time. I got up and began to tidy the apartment a bit, and as I was rinsing the dishes off, I felt Brendon's presence behind me.

"Guess that's it, then." I said, turning and finding him standing behind me. "I guess I've done enough damage here for one evening." I started past Brendon toward the door, and he reached out and grabbed my hand.

"Please don't leave. I'd like you to stay."

I looked at him, and saw the need in his eyes, and said, "Are you sure about that, Bren? You know how I feel about you."

He pulled me close to him and in answer kissed me on the lips. After a couple of minutes of sheer heaven for me, he pulled back and said, "Yes, I want you to stay with me tonight." He pulled me by the hand into the bedroom and gave me another deep kiss, his tongue darting inside as my lips parted in astonishment. "I've not been too honest with my feelings lately, Mike," he said as we came up for air and began pulling off each other's clothing. "As we watched the movies tonight, I was thinking about you and the other men that I've attempted to have relationships with, and I realized that I had been looking for someone that was right here all the time." He reached out and pulled off my shirt, letting his palms curl around my pecs and then moved down to my hips. Slowly he moved his hands down to my waistband and undid the buttons of my jeans. My hands, in time with his, had pulled off his shirt and were opening his jeans as well, and we stopped to step out of our jeans as we shucked them off each other. The moment had come, we were both naked except briefs and socks and, with a softening look in his eyes, Brendon reached forward and slowly pulled down my Jockeys ...

While I'm sure that the exact memories will become much clearer as we grow older, that evening's sex was so mind blowing that I can only describe parts of it. Both of us were quite experienced sexual partners, and it showed when we began doing things to each other, but we were also exploring a new lover, and that made it all the sweeter. Brendon traced my body with his tongue, the erotic feeling enough to cause me to blow my load as he lightly nipped at my hard nipples, licked my navel and sucked gently on my balls. His own somewhat famous equipment hung almost literally like a horse's between his open legs as he bent forward to take me into his mouth, and I watched mesmerized as it swayed with his movements. Another clear moment, not in any particular order yet, was when I slowly released him from his Calvins, and watched his body be fully revealed to me. Yes, I had managed to find one of his porn movies and saw the whole thing in use, but now it was real and here before me, and that's much better than any video any day. I remember the throbbing of his shaft as the full ten inches surged upwards and the heft of his mighty balls that I cupped in my palm. What is most seared into that memory is the look of sheer love and bliss on his face as I fondled his equipment. Kissing was really good too, for Brendon was not a slam-bam kind of lover in any way. We took our time exploring each other, and when the ultimate love making began, we were both quite ready to let go into each other.

Since being fucked was difficult for Brendon, I was the bottom with the legs in the air, and soon I felt the first breaching of my portals, his mighty condom-covered pole slowly entering me. Yes, it HURT, but I focused on my love for him and just like that the gates opened and he fell into me, a surprised and happy look on his face that echoed the one on mine. I had been 'plowed' by bigger ones and smaller ones, but I can tell you that every bell was being rung that night! My God, I was really in love with this guy, and he with I, and I felt completely fulfilled for the first time in my life. I believe that Brendon felt that way also, for the joy on his face was much, much more than the sheer physical enjoyment of my body. He groaned and pulled out of me, his cock throbbing in the condom as he pulled it off and shot rope after rope of creamy cum all over my chest and abs. He looked down at my transfigured face, and saw that an answering orgasm had been happening for me as well, my cum mixing with his on me, my cock still spasming from the warm 'fuzzy' feelings ...

... Now it was morning, and my new lover was wrapped around me, his slow awakening body attempting to keep up with the already 'awake' cock that quested for my throbbing asshole. As he slid inside, I smiled and pressed back against Bren, and feeling his warm breath on my shoulder and his teeth lightly nip at my neck. We moved closer and closer to orgasm and, throwing the sheets back, Bren rolled so that I moved atop him, his cock throbbing inside me with his cum. My cock shot as well, and my belly was coated again with my cum. When Bren was done, he kissed my ear and carefully slipped me off him to his side. He sat up on one elbow and looked down at the creamy ropes of cum on my chest and belly and smiled. "How thoughtful of you to serve me breakfast in bed!" he said, as he bent forward, his tongue sliding against my skin ...