5 comments/ 10078 views/ 13 favorites Shoelaces Ch. 01 By: kaysea This is my first story submission, so please leave lots of feedback but please play nice. There's kind of a innocent sex scene, but no hardcore stuff. I'm working on that for later chapters. So if you don't want to wait, skip this, or at least don't flame me for it. These characters and stories are mine. Any resemblance to actual people or events is incidental. Names are hard when you are four, especially on the first day of kindergarden. "I don't remember your name," he declared. Scuffing his He-Man tennis shoes on the gravel that covered the ground beneath the metal poles of the monkey bars, he said, "I don't remember your name either." "I'm Michael Patrick Carlin," Michael said. "I'm Kieran William Lee," Kieran said. And that cemented their friendship. See? Kindergarden is easy. * * * * "Wild women do and they don't forget it!" It was Thanksgiving again and the kids had been relegated to the "kids' table" in the kitchen. Thankfully for the adults there was a door partitioning the kitchen from the dining room. They didn't have to listen to Kieran, his older sister, and Michael and his sisters –one younger and one older than the boys– as they belted out tracks from the "Pretty Woman" soundtrack, using carrot sticks with black olives stuck on top of them for microphones. Kieran's and Michael's mothers had become fast friends, which had extended to the rest of their families. Thanksgiving was at Kieran's house, and Kieran's dad made them all "special" hot chocolate after the annual school Christmas play. The adults' hot chocolate was a little more "special" than the kids.' Christmas eve and Easter were spent together at Michael's house. And over the course of years there were hundreds of little family events (and some big ones) that the each other family were invited to as extended family. But still grade school was a little harder than kindergarden, as the normal course of things tend to be. Kieran and Michael attended the same Catholic grade school they had started in kindergarden. It was small school, each grade having only one class that stayed together K through 8th grade. Michael was a focused and determined kid even then. He knew he wasn't the smartest kid in the class but his consistency carried him through with B's and the occasional A thrown in. Kieran on the other hand was all over the board. He was one of the smartest kids in the class. He always tested in the 99th percentile in standardized testing. He always got A's on the tests for regular subjects too, which allowed him to scrape by. But everything else was up and down. He was that kid that teacher's were always saying "if he would only apply himself" about. But he never remembered his homework, and everything was so distracting. If he wasn't in trouble for talking then the teacher was trying to call his attention back to class from his daydreams gazing out the window. Classes bored him. He passed the time by reading ahead in all his school books or anything else he could get his hands on while the teacher droned on about something else. It wasn't just in school either. His coaches in baseball and soccer were equally frustrated by his lighting fast changes between hyper-focus and distraction. He was like that nursery rhyme: "There once was a girl with a curl right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, she was very, very good. And we she was bad she was ...." Well, Kieran wasn't horrid, but certainly frustrating to all the adults around him, and a good portion of his classmates too. He also had some talent as an artist and took painting lessons from a local artist. Again it was up and down. On some days he spent the entire afternoon just laying out paint in what he felt was the correct way on his palette. Again, he was "such a talented kid, if only he would apply himself." * * * * Kieran rushed into physics just before Mr. Payne closed the door and the final bell rang. He made it to his desk without dropping any of the many things he was juggling. There were the expected: physics book, notebook, pens, and then there were the other various things that made up his morning. The bottle of Coke that was his breakfast; he carefully put that on the floor out of kicking range since they weren't supposed to have food or drink in the classroom. The collared shirt that pretty much the only rule of their dress code –top two buttons must be buttoned. Though when guys did only that, they pretty much just looked like morons with capes on, he thought. He began to slip his shirt on and button it as soon as he sat down. At least today he had gotten his shoes on before class. They were always really awkward to carry and people looked at him weird when he ran in in just his socks. Today he'd been able to get his shoelaces tied at the red lights on the way to school. In trying to organize the whirlwind he had brought in with him, Kieran had missed what Mr. Payne had been saying to the class. He winced as everyone else began to turn in their homework. He had forgotten. Again. Finally physics came to an end. Kieran ducked his head down, avoided eye contact, and filed out the door with the rest of the class, though at 6'1" and with the exotic looks that came from him being Chinese and happa haole (half-white), as the Hawaiians called it, his attempts to be inconspicuous failed. He headed for the computer lab. There he could just do mindless surfing on the internet, or maybe try to finish that paper that was due sixth block. Either way no one was going to bother him there. The five minute bell rang for the next class. Kieran didn't notice, shutting the world out as he surfed through the drivel on the screen in front of him. Krista showed up at the door to the lab. "Hi Mr. Hurst," she said to the teacher sitting at the desk at the front of the lab. "Kieran." Krista said as she walked down the two rows of computers. "Come on; we got to go to class." Kieran looked up, closed out of the window he was looking at and obediently followed her to his classroom. Having dropped him off, she said "I'll see you later at break, okay?" and kept walking down the hallway to her own classroom. Spanish was a blur. Kieran knew he knew the words, but they just wouldn't come to him when he needed them. He had a book of Spanish language fairytales that were first written in Spanish and then were then translated into English. That, the reading, was easier. He noticed class was over because everyone else was getting up out of their seats. He followed. At the door Sean was waiting for him. If Kieran had to think about it, he was pretty sure his next class was downstairs, but trying to lift himself out of this daze was just too hard, and he was so tired. So Sean got him where he needed to go. His friends were managing him. When he looked back on it later as an adult, he didn't realize he had so many friends, friends who worried and cared about him. He didn't know if it had happened spontaneously or if there had been a pow-wow, but his zombie-like state had become apparent enough that his friends were taking turns shuttling his shambling corpse from class to class. Then one night Michael dropped over to Kieran's house. He hadn't been one of the contingent helping steer Kieran from class to class but Kieran found out later that Michael had talked to Sean about how worried they both were for him. Michael didn't know what he could do but he knew his friend was struggling and just wanted to be there for him. And Kieran's house was like Michael's second home. If Kieran had had room for emotion, he would have been surprised to see Michael on his doorstep. It seemed like he rarely saw Michael anymore outside of when their families gathered. The groups they travelled in at school had become so different. Kieran didn't think that most of Michael's friends even knew that he and Michael knew each other, let alone that their families considered each other extended family. At first they just sat on the couch together, the t.v. on low. Then, with Michael's comforting presence beside him, Kieran began to talk. At first haltingly, but then it seemed like he couldn't stop. Eventually it was all to much. First the tears were quiet, just running hotly down his cheeks as he spoke. Then his breath began to hitch, and eventually he couldn't hold it back anymore. He struggled not to hyperventilate but Michael was there to calm him. Finally, Kieran had cried himself out. Life was so hard to concentrate on right now. Sometimes it seemed to race so fast it left him spinning and confused. And sometimes it moved so slow it seemed like every breath, every tick of the clock was an eternity. But he was here now with Michael. Kieran had his head on Michael's shoulder feeling hollow and empty after the storm of emotions had emptied themselves out in tears and sobs. He was safe with Michael. Michael had his arm around him and was drawing little calming circles up and down his back in a soothing motion. Michael tipped his head down to rest gently on Kieran's and drew him closer into his chest. Kieran heaved a big sigh of contentment. Michael had him and he was safe, even from the storms of his own mind. And they stayed in that calm. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours, but Kieran finally raised his head from Michael's shoulder. They were so close. Laying there together, their breath had settled into the same rhythm, their hearts beating together, and as they looked into each other's eyes, that didn't change. They were so close. And then slowly, and oh so gently, their lips touched. And their eyes closed. Still in locked in the same rhythm, everything they were to each other became crashed together in that kiss. The kiss roughened. Their lips demanded more. The kiss went from a gentle "I'm here for you" to an "I need you" type of desperation. Michael slide his hand up Kieran's neck and ran his hand through Kieran's dark hair, cradling Kieran's head. They both moved to their knees on the couch, their bodies pressed against each other, still kissing as if it were the only air they could breathe. They didn't know who did it first, ran their tongue along the other's bottom lip, but the twin moans that followed opened their mouths and brought their tongues together. Kieran's hand cupped Michael's jaw, drawing him in, holding him place as fire ran through their bodies. To Kieran it felt like this was the first thing he could really feel in he didn't know how long. Moans began to fill the room as more than their lips and tongues became intertwined. Michael's free hand slid up Kieran's t-shirt just enough to reach his lower back and press their bodies even closer together. And from there their 18 year-old hormones took care of the rest as they began to grind against each other's bodies through the confines of their jeans. "God!" Michael said, tearing his lips away from Kieran's as he threw his head back and exposed his throat to Kieran. Loving that he could get his usually straight-laced friend to respond like that, Kieran took the opportunity to slide his thigh between Michael's and purposefully ground his friend's growing cock against him. Moaning, Michael drew his head back down to look in Kieran's eyes. Even as he continued to rub his jean clad thigh against his friend's cock, Kieran gave him a mischievous "Who me?" look. Michael's blue eyes narrowed to slits. He dropped his hand down from Kieran's hair to the couch underneath them. He held himself above Kieran as Michael's other hand gripped Kieran's lower back pulled him down underneath Michael. Kieran's eyes widened as Michael insinuated his thigh between Kieran's straining jeans and began a slow writhing tease against the thick erection Michael could feel down the leg of Kieran's pants. Pausing to grab the hem of Kieran's t-shirt and roughly pull it over his head, Michael began anew the assault upon Kieran's mouth, using lips, teeth and tongue. "Fuuucccckk...." Kieran moaned into Michael's mouth. Unthinkingly he had slid his hands up under Michael's shirt, pulling Michael closer to him. When Michael circled his hips in a way that increased the friction on both their cocks, a gasp of air exploded out of Kieran and he dug his fingernails into Michael's back just below his shoulder blades. Something between a gasp and a moan escaped Michael and his back arched involuntarily as those points of pain sent shivers of pleasure down his body. First the quiet intimacy and now this explosion of passion. It was too overwhelming for two largely inexperienced boys. Hearts racing, breathing becoming ragged as they writhed against each other instinctively reaching for that precipice that explodes into pleasure. Kieran got there first. Gasping and clutching Michael to him, time seemed to hang meaningless in the ecstasy. He drug his nails down Michael's back. The painful pleasure pulled Michael over the edge, and, dropping his head to Kieran's shoulder, he gave himself over to the pleasure. Exhausted, still feeling feeling outside of time, the boys stayed as they lay, letting sleep take them. Again, even against the whirlwind of physical passion, they were wrapped in the calm of comfort, safety, and love. Eventually, during the night, they each woke at different times, got up and cleaned themselves, then returned to the comfort of their friend's arms. In the morning they said nothing. Their shy, slightly wry, smiles said enough for the two who had been friends for nearly 13 years. It had been a moment out of time and their everyday lives. They shared one chaste kiss, then untangled themselves from each other's arms. Then it was Kieran's mom's Saturday morning waffles as usual. * * * * Kieran took one last glace in the mirror. He saw what he usually saw. Dark brown hair that his mother's Irish blood had lightened from his Chinese father's black. It had a slight wave to it. Thanks again Mom, he thought. Even close cropped the wave gave it a perpetually tousled look. His skin always had a natural sun-kissed look, even in winter, but surfing had tanned him slightly darker. His broad shoulders tapered down into narrow hips. His body put on muscle easily but he favored a leaner look on his broad frame, so, even though anaerobic, power-lifting type workouts were really what he enjoyed, he kept those to a minimum so as not to bulk up too much. He mostly ran or biked with some ab and shoulder work thrown in with light free weights. He usually stayed around the 210 lbs. mark, and at 6'2" and with his broad shoulders, he had the body to carry it. Not bad for 31, he thought. He was a little nervous. Their tenth high school reunion had been several years ago and since he hadn't really kept in touch with anyone he didn't know anyone who had gone. He knew Michael hadn't gone because he was still in Boston. Still in the middle of everything with James, Michael thought, feeling a pang of sadness. A year and a half ago Michael's partner of four years had died suddenly of a brain aneurysm at age 31. He was so young. They had everything in front of them. He felt another pang. This time it was tinged with guilt. He had thought he had had everything ahead of him with Kelly. He had been wrong, and her betrayal still stung, though as time went by the pain had been less sharp. He did feel guilty though. How could he compare his loosing Kelly because of her own actions and the chaos that she had created in his life to Michael tragically loosing James so suddenly in what should have been the prime of their lives? Kieran shook himself, mentally and physically. Back to the task at hand, he thought. He continued to look at himself critically in the mirror. He wanted to appear casual, but still look nice. The dove gray t-shirt he had on clung just slightly to the upper part of his chest. He wore a pair a comfortable jeans that fit him through the waist and hugged the top of his ass and thighs before loosening up. Finding a pair of jeans that fit his narrow waist yet still allowed enough room for his muscular glutes and thighs could be something of a challenge. Peasant genes, Kieran thought grinning to himself. Okay. Whatever. He was done. Did he care what these people thought of him? Well, kind of, yeah. But again, whatever. In the grand scheme, it didn't matter. And Michael would be there. They had only kept in touch sporadicly once Michael had moved to Boston. Kieran had seen the rest of his family much more often. But he and Michael had always been able to settle back into conversation, were interested in each other's lives, their families' lives, and everything in between. If nothing else, Michael would be Kieran's lifeline to talk to. Okay. He was off. Grade school/high school reunion here I come. The first person Kieran saw was Colleen. She was the one who had organized this thing. This grade school/high school reunion. It was a reunion of kids who had been in their St. Joseph's grade school class and had also graduated from San Jose Catholic High School together. "Kieran!" Colleen said. "I'm so glad you made it!" Colleen's enthusiasm was infectious and Kieran smiled at her. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, he thought, relaxing a little. "How are you?" Kieran said, genuinely interested and reached out to give her a quick hug. "Really good," she said, hugging him back. "I put this whole shindig together 'cause I'm leaving for Virginia for a research position there." Kieran knew through the gossip chain made up of their church and the grade school parents that Colleen had finished her PhD in Biochemistry a year or two ago. "I didn't really see anyone at the reunion so I decided we should just get some of the St. Joseph kids together and gossip and catch up," she continued. She leaned in towards Kieran and in a stage whisper said: "I really only went to the reunion so I could go around telling people that I was a doctor." Kieran laughed. He had forgotten how much fun Colleen could be. Like Kieran and Michael, most of the St. Joseph kids had scattered and found their own groups of kids to hangout with once they reached San Jose, the high school. If Kieran remembered right, Colleen had been in Company –the school's theater group– but on crew not acting. There ended up being about eight people who showed up. Not bad, thought Kieran, since the pool of kids who had attended both schools wasn't that large. For most of the night he'd been engaged in conversation with people he hadn't seen in, well, ten years or so. Michael showed up about halfway through. Kieran met his eyes and did the guy head nod thing but he was involved in a conversation with another of their classmates and continued talking. By the time the whole thing had slowed down, Kieran still hadn't talked to Michael. The whole thing hadn't turned out to be the torture that Kieran had envisioned. Mostly everyone was cool, talking about the now in their lives or bringing up funny anecdotes about teachers and classmates from their childhoods. Kieran was grateful only one of them brought up his ups and downs and behavior from the past, but then Anna always had been a bitch. Mikey (one of the five Michaels who had been in their class of 40) had shut her down cold, for which he was grateful. When there were only a couple of people lingering, Kieran felt a hand clap him on the shoulder. He turned and saw Michael. "Want to get out of here and grab a drink?" he said. It was a little amusing, since they were already in a bar but Kieran nodded. They waved and hugged their goodbyes and headed out. Tria was a funky little wine bar. It tended to be crazy busy on the weekends, but on a Tuesday night it was a chill place to sit back and talk. Enjoying the nice night, they chose patio seating. The server brought their wine and a charcuterie plate quickly. Shoelaces Ch. 01 Rolling up a slice of the sopressata off the plate, Kieran took a bite and chewed. He studied Michael's face. There were pinched lines around the outside of his mouth, the only sign that he was stressed. "So," Kieran said, "How are you doing?" Michael leaned back in his chair. He rubbed both hands over his face then over his head, running his fingers through his short black hair, until his hands rested at the base of his skull, elbows out akimbo. Kieran recognized this gesture from high school. It was a sure sign of stress. Michael rested his head back on his hands and leaned back. "Fuck," he said staring at the ceiling. "How am I doing with the reunion? Or how am doing with the move?" He paused and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Or how am I doing with James?" Kieran watched him. Spearing an olive with a toothpick and popping it in his mouth he chewed around the pit. "Any of it," he said. "All of it." He dropped the pit in the little plate that came especially for that purpose. Concentrating on the food was something to focus on through what was sure to be a hard conversation. It was kind of the equivalent of Michael hyper-focus on the ceiling. Michael continued to stare at the ceiling. Time ticked by and Kieran wasn't sure he was going to say anything at all. He spread some rillettes on a toast point. At last Michael finally said, "We were going to go to the reunion, you know. The real one." Kieran waited for him to go on. "We went to James's a few years before. Supposedly everywhere's gotten more cosmopolitan but Charleston is still the south. And James went to a Catholic high school, same as we did, in a small town just outside it. His bringing another man with him ran through the place like wildfire. It was... awkward." Michael was still leaning back but his eyes flicked down to Kieran's as if waiting for a response. "I'm sure awkward was the least of what it was." Kieran said, swirling his wine glass. "Yeah, well, it was what it was," Michael had gone back to staring at the ceiling. "So after that we were really looking forward to the reunion here." "Yeah," said Kieran to keep the dialogue going. He speared another olive. "I mean we're thirty minutes from the City. Through the tunnel, there you go. You know, things are just not a big deal in the Bay Area. God, you should hear some of the things people say other places." "Yeah, I know. I lived in Orange County. I could not believe the shit that came out of people's mouths. It was just incidental but you would never hear anyone say that so casually up here." "Exactly. I mean, in high school, a Catholic high school, me being gay just wasn't an issue. Or at church either. I mean, I never made an issue about it, never threw myself a big 'coming out' party, but I never hid anything either. I just... dated guys." "Yeah, I know," Kieran cracked a smile at him. "I know personally you disappointed a lot of girls." Michael looked at him. Saw the slightly mischievous grin on Kieran's face and laughed. "Know personally, huh?" he said. "Yup," Kieran replied with a grin. "People in high school usually didn't know that we even knew each other, let alone that we were close. So I got to listen in on a lot of conversations of girls lamenting what a waste it was. I even had a couple of friends who I knew well enough," he raised his hand and waffled it back and forth and continued, "but were more in the acquaintance box, actually going on about it to me. You have no idea how hard it was to keep a straight face." "See? That's what we wanted to come back to. People who were upset about our sexual orientation because they couldn't date us!" said Michael laughing. "Is that why you've moved back to San Francisco?" Kieran asked. "Partially. At first when James died, I was overwhelmed with everything that happened. Then I wanted to stay where it had been him and me." He sighed. "But now it's too hard to stay there without him. Besides our apartment, everywhere I go in that city is a reminder of James. I would think, oh, that's where James and I... fill in the blank. At first that was comforting. Then it became stifling. I realized that I'm never going to move on if I stayed in Boston, even if I changed apartments." Michael picked up his wine glass for the first time. He swirled the wine and brought the glass to his nose, more as if it was habit though, rather than out of any enjoyment of the wine. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I left the apartment on his birthday. I left everything the way it was. I had the movers pack everything and didn't go back." Oh, Michael, thought Kieran. "Come on," he said gruffly, trying not to show the emotion in his voice. "We're getting out of here." He threw some bills on the table, over-tipping and leaving the rest of his beautiful charcuterie plate behind. Shoelaces Ch. 02 Hey all. Thanks for the feedback and encouragement for the first chapter. I really appreciate it. I write from a outline that plans out my story arc which means that I don't always write chronologically, so I'm not sure how long it will take between some chapters. This short and kind of silly but I thought I'd post it anyway because it continues to let you get to know the two main characters you've met so far. Hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it. * "Home sweet home," Kieran said pushing the door open. He headed to the kitchen, first stopping to let in his dog, Petunia, in. "Beer or wine?" "Beer." Michael looked around the small two bedroom house. "You didn't stray far from home," he observed. "The commute into Oakland everyday must be a bitch." "It is but I stayed on this side of the tunnel so I could have a big yard for 'Tunie. And I like where I work. Most drug treatment centers are abstinence-only. Bonita House works with a harm reduction model. The commute is worth it." Kieran returned from the kitchen with a bottle of Milagro Anejo and two old fashioned glasses instead of beer. Michael raised an eyebrow at him. Kieran shrugged and poured them both a finger of the tequila. "I figured we both could use something a little stronger. I almost never drink it anymore but it's still my choice of poison when I'm just overloaded. You look like you could use it." "That bad, huh?" "Stop being a baby and just take it," Kieran said handing Michael a glass. Michael took it and raised it to Kieran in a salute. "Left hand closest to your heart," Kieran said automaticlly. Michael smiled as he remembered Kieran's grandfather's saying and switched his glass from his right hand to his left. He saluted Kieran again, this time with the hand closest to his heart, and Kieran raised his glass in return. Several glasses in and there was a lull in the conversation. They had caught each other up on news about their families. Michael had been telling about where he was living in the City and about his new job with a firm there. They were both slouched on the couch and nursing their drinks. Kieran was watching his friend. Relaxed by the tequila, some of the stress lines had smoothed out in his face. It was a good face. He was considered black Irish with clear blue eyes and hair of the very darkest brown. It was cut more conservatively than Kieran's, but then Michael was a CPA, Kieran a alcohol and drug addiction counselor; made sense. He had high cheekbones and a dimple on the left side when he smiled. Kieran hoped to see that smile more often than he had recently. Michael was almost as tall as Kieran. About 6' to Kieran's 6'2." He was slighter in build than Kieran; narrower through the shoulders with long lean muscles of a long distance runner. Again, made sense, Kieran knew Michael had ran some half-marathons and one or two full marathons. Michael saw Kieran watching him. Since they left the restaurant they'd avoided any sensitive topics, but the drinks loosened both their tongues. "So how are you doing?" Michael asked Kieran. It seemed to be a general opening, but Kieran knew what Michael was referring to. Kieran thought about it before answering. "For the most part okay. My meds are pretty stable now." During Kieran's sophomore year of college he had been diagnosed as bipolar. It explained the crippling depression he had experienced in high school. But being diagnosed had just been the beginning of a ever-shifting cocktail of meds, continuing depression, mania--most often dysphoric manias--and ever changing diagnoses from Bipolar II to Bipolar I that were alternatively labeled with catatonic features, ultra-rapid cycling, seasonal affective disorder, and a variety of anxiety disorders. "I'm working with a new doctor; we're trying to even out some of my meds so that I can go down on the high dosage meds that I'm really dependent on right now." He shrugged. "Always a work in progress. But finally a fairly stable one." "And about Kelly?" Michael prompted, knowing he was treading on a touchy subject. "That's well and over," Kieran said. "It fucked me up for a long time. Now that I'm healthier, looking back, our whole relationship was one big mind fuck, but at the time I thought she was the one I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Since I wasn't the most stable while I was in a relationship with her, her breaking up with me by having her other boyfriend facebook me about their relationship didn't leave me in the best condition." He stopped to take a gulp of his drink and poured himself another. "Fan-fucking-tastic, that was. I usually run towards depression, but I had some pretty crazy manic swings there." He paused, cocked his head slightly to the side. "As a random side note, I also got a bad cold and learned that any cold pills that you have to get from behind the pharmacy counter can make you manic. Like purely flying crazy high manic." Another pause. "Can we talk about something else?" Michael's drink was down. Kieran poured him some more and they both sat back again, silent. Kieran was starting to feel comfortably warm and sleepy, his drink starting to tip in his hand, when Michael spoke abruptly. "You were my first, you know." "What?" Kieran said, his alcohol soaked brain slow to catch up. Michael repeated himself: "You were my first." Kieran figured out what he was talking about. "But you dated other guys," he said. "Yeah, I did, but it was high school dating. Still figuring things out. And the guys I had dated up until that point? I hadn't figured things out that far yet, hadn't wanted to with them." Kieran thought about this. Finally he said, "Well, you were my first guy too." Michael turned his head and looked at him. Truth, his eyes said. "Fine, you were my first anyone too. I had dated girls the way you had dated guys." Feeling mature, Kieran stuck his tongue out at Michael. Michael laughed. They were quiet again. Then Michael thought of something. He leaned over and looked at Kieran through slightly bleary eyes. "Wait, you said I was your first guy. So there was another one?" To Michael's knowledge Kieran had always dated women. "Maybe." Kieran had a smile secretive smile on his face. The alcohol in his system made the smile not quite as sly as he thought. "Oh come on! After making me drink this much tequila you are required to spill." At this point Michael gestured with his drink and sloshed some of it over the side of the glass at the same time as he said "spill." Not noticing he continued on, "And make it the whole story, not just a one word or one sentence answer," he said pointing a finger at Kieran. Kieran heaved a big dramatic put upon sigh. "Fine. Whole story." Kieran shook his head, preparing. Maybe not the best idea because the room continued to weave back and forth for a bit. "Okay. So every once in a while I'd find myself attracted to a guy. And I noticed I had a type; the guys I were attracted to --and there were only two or three-- were all pretty similar. Which is weird because I don't really have a type for women; I've dated and been attracted to all types of women." Kieran paused and took a sip of his drink. Michael looked impatient. "So anyway, I thought I might be bi. So I had this girl I was dating in college who wanted to try a threesome. If it had been a serious relationship I never would have agreed but as it stood I said okay. So she enlisted the help of a friend who definitely knew he was bi." Michael couldn't help it. He jumped ahead. "So how was it?" Michael had to admit that drunk him thought that Kieran doing fun things with another man was hot. Kieran laughed, drunk him was finding Michael's reaction really funny. "With him? Great. With her? Not so much. I think she thought she was going to be the center of all the attention but it didn't quite work out that way." Kieran laughed again. "I enjoyed myself, but I also figured out that it's women I'm interested in. With the exception of the occasional passing attraction, --which since I've never acted on I don't know how that would work out-- it's women I like. It was fun but it pretty much had me deciding that it is women that I'm attracted to and want relationships with. I'm heterosexual, not bi." Michael tried to restrain himself but couldn't. "Alright, fine, but I have to know the gory details about your little 'adventure.'" Kieran tried again to look put upon but couldn't quite manage it since he was trying not to give into fits of laughter. He hid his twitching lips behind his glass as he took another sip. "Okay," Michael said, "If you're not going to tell me, we'll just have to do a checklist." "Oral?" "Yes" "Give or receive?" "Both." Kieran could feel a case of the giggles coming on. "Um, how do I put this?" Michael mused. "Prostrate exam?" he said wiggling his fingers. "Yes." Kieran's fit of the giggles was getting worse. "You know," Michael said mock seriously, "If you just answer yes to every question and make me ask a follow up question every time this is going to take a very long time." "Give or receive?" Kieran was still trying to hold in the giggles; his whole body was shaking. "Both." "Rimming." "Receive." "Anal" "Yes," Kieran said, just to fuck with Michael force him to ask the second question. The giggles had struck. At this point tears were starting to run down Kieran's face. Maybe it was all the alcohol that was making this so funny. Michael looked down his nose at his friend who seemed to have been reduced to giggling jelly. He tried to muster up all the seriousness he could manage but really, Kieran's hilarity was infectious. "Pitching or catching?" At this point, Kieran rolled off the couch, fell on the floor and howled with laughter. Michael tapped a toe in mock impatience. Since Michael was still sitting on the couch and Kieran was on the floor, Michael's toe was right about even with Kieran's nose. "B-b-both," Kieran managed to gasp out. Michael prodded Kieran with the aforementioned toe to no effect. What did have an effect was an excited Petunia who thought her master had gotten down on the floor to play with her. The eighty pound Chesapeake Bay Retriever that Kieran had rescued wriggled her body up against him and shoved her wet nose into his face. "Argh! Tunie! No!" said Kieran popping up from a prone position to sit, leaning his back against the bottom of the couch. This didn't help matters much as Tunie just tried to climb onto his lap. "Ack! Tunie! Out! Off!" Kieran said laughing, pushing her away and petting her at the same time. This time he heaved himself back onto the couch. Tunie knew she wasn't allowed up there, so she shoved her head in his lap, big eyes begging to be petted. Kieran obliged, rubbing her ears and leaning down to talk to her nose to nose. Michael watched, amused. "You know, if you save whispering all your sweet nothings for your dog, no wonder you don't have a girlfriend." "Your just jealous that I have someone to snuggle up with at night." Michael got a faraway look in his eyes. "Yeah, I kinda am." "Well, at least you avoid the shedding." Shoelaces Ch. 03 "Cross!" yelled Michael. Kieran booted the soccer ball from the right line of the field to Michael who was on far post of the goal. Michael headed the ball and it swished into the net before the goalie had a chance to react. They all heard the three long blasts of the whistle that signaled the end of the game. Michael's goal, with Kieran's assist, had pulled their team ahead. With a whoop of joy Kieran charged Michael, grabbed him around the legs and spun him around until they collapsed in a dizzy, slightly woozy heap. Their other teammates jumped in on the celebratory, game-ending dog pile. In the months that Michael had been home he and Kieran had renewed their friendship and found themselves spending most of their time together. Michael had joined Kieran's weekend soccer league and Kieran found himself heading across the bridge to Michael's house instead of through the tunnel once or twice a week, with Michael spending most weekends hanging out at Kieran's with Petunia. They barbequed most weekends and gathered a crowd of friends around them. * * * * "So where are we hitting up tonight?" Kieran was kicked back on Michael's couch. His therapy groups had only run until three today so he had headed over to Michael's before the traffic hit too bad on the Bay Bridge. Michael had come in the door not too long ago and gone for a quick shower and to change clothes. "I thought maybe we'd try Suppenkuche. It's in the Hayes Valley. Have you been?" "No, but I think I saw it on 'Check, Please!' once," said Kieran, referring to the local t.v. show that would have three diners each go to each others' favorite restaurants and then come back and review them. "You know that show actually won a James Beard award? Cool, right? But, yeah, restaurant, German food, right? Lots of beers?" "Yup. Can even get it in a glass boot." Kieran raised an eyebrow. "And get so plastered in the process that we can't even stand up enough to call a cab?" "Pssht... You're no fun." "Right, I'm no fun because I think standing up is a good thing. Aren't you supposed to be the stodgy accountant?" "You didn't tell me the seating was communal!" Kieran had to practically yell in Michael's ear to be heard. "Forgot!" Michael yelled back. "If you'll follow me a couple of seats have opened up over here," the hostess said. At least that's what Kieran thought she said. It was more of a reading of lips and gesturing kind of thing. They were led to a long table; most of it was taken up by a group of tourists. At the opposite end sat one man. It was to that end of the table that the hostess led them to. The man seemed to be engrossed in his menu, but when the Kieran and Michael approached, he glanced up at them and gave them a friendly smile. "Here, I'll move over so you can sit next to your partner," he said to Kieran who happened to be closest to him. "Thanks for letting us sit together, but we're not partners; just friends," Kieran said laughing. Now that they were away from the door it was a bit quieter & they didn't quite have to yell to be able to hear each other. "Great," the man said. "Now I get to hit on both of you. Ethan," he said, extending his hand. "Kieran," Kieran returned. "Well, at least you get to hit on him." Michael slid into his seat, then extended his hand to Ethan, "Michael." "Now," Michael turned to Kieran, "about Das Boot." "Michael, we are not drinking two liters of beer between the just the two of us. That's like a bottle of soda, complete with uncomfortable carbonation." Ethan had been listening in. It was hard not to in the close, cramped quarters. "What about between three people?" "Yeah, what about three people?" Michael said, eagerly willing to side with any ally. "I'm on the end of a loosing battle aren't I?" Kieran said. "Do your BALLS hang low, do they wobble to and fro! Can you tie 'EM in a knot, can you tie 'EM in a bow! Can you throw 'EM o'r your shoulder like a Continental soldier! Do your BALLS hang low! Kieran had been wrong about the effects of drinking beer out of a boot in relation to being able to stand and call for a cab. Instead Michael, standing up—listing—but standing, was singing a variation of "Do Your Ears Hang Low" at the top of his lungs as they waited for the taxi. Inexplicably Michael actually knew several verses of the song. Trust it to an Irishman. Or son, or grandson, or whatever of an Irishman. Michael's family were San Francisco Irish and most of them lived out in the Avenues. And like all good Irishmen they had the gift for stories, poetry, songs, and if they were dirty, well, so much the better. This wasn't Irish but... Kieran didn't even know that there were more verses than the original one. The extra verses did not improve as Michael sang them. Do your BALLS flip-flop? Can you ?use them as a mop?? Are they ?stringy at the bottom?? Are they ?curly at the top?? Can you ?use them for a swatter?? Can you ?use them for a blotter?? Do your ?BALLS flip-flop?? The had had a great time at Suppenkuche, eating brats, sauerkraut, spatzle, and God knows what else as they got further and further down the boot. With Ethan joining in, their inebriated brains had reasoned them into a second boot. Possibly a third. It had seem like a good idea at the time. Do your ?BALLS stick out?? Can you ?waggle them about?? Can you ?flap them up and down? As you ?fly around the town?? Can you ?shut them up for sure? When you ?hear an awful bore?? Do your ?BALLS stick out??" Michael was into his third verse; Kieran decided that it had probably been three boots. And they had had a great time with Ethan, their twosome becoming an easy threesome. Ethan had flirted so shamelessly with both Michael and Kieran and both had flirted back so furiously, until it got more and more ridiculous, more camp, more queen, and made all three of them burst into riotous laughter. The taxi finally pulled up. Michael had switched songs. "Seventh verse, same as the first," he told the cab driver seriously as he stumbled across the seats across the back of the cab. Luckily, he'd lowered the volume: "I'm Henry the VII I am...." Kieran quietly gave the cabbie Michael's address. Thankful that it at least wasn't "Ninety-nine bottles of beer," Kieran decided he needed to learn something obnoxious that he could use to embarrass Michael at some point in the future. * * * * Ethan climbed up the stairs that partitioned the old Victorian into apartments. His was the upstairs apartment, where he had a small bedroom, even smaller sitting room, and a kitchenette. It was quite a feat to get to the top after all Das Boots. He grinned. He had gone out just to enjoy some good beer and some fun people watching and had unexpectedly ended up finding two friends instead. Two very hot friends. Kieran and Michael were great: funny, smart, intelligent. He couldn't help the sniggers that were actually suppressed laughter, every time he thought of Michael's song. Tired, and not a little bit still drunk, he let himself just fall into bed as he was. Soon he was fast asleep and dreaming.... ~ ~ ~ ~ He felt a hand sliding up his leg, slowly over the outside of the pants that he hadn't bothered to take off before falling into bed. He looked down and saw Michael's blue eyes capturing his. His cock hardened down the leg of his pants. Michael's hand continued up his leg and when he reached his length he lightly drew his nails over it, the teasing making him harder and causing him to arch his back and moan. As Ethan arched his back he realized there was someone behind him. Someone whose hard, naked chest was burning through his shirt. Someone who was biting a trail of kisses from his back, up his neck to that sensitive spot under his ear. Ethan looked back to find Kieran's dark eyes almost black with passion. He watched him as he dragged his teeth down his neck to that sweet spot between Ethan's shoulder and his neck, then Kieran bit down hard, leaving a perfect oval of the imprint of his teeth. Fuck! Ethan swore. His back arched and hips and ass bucked against Kieran's naked thighs, as his body rode the sweet edge of pleasure and pain. From below, Michael growled, leather in his teeth. He had decided to undo Ethan's belt and pants without using his hands, and Ethan's movements were interrupting his progress. Ethan focussed all his attentions on watching Michael and his mouth. Well, as much attention as he could with Kieran's hot, hard body curled around him. Kieran ran his fingers over the flat ridges of Ethan's stomach up to his lightly defined pecs until he found Ethan's nipples. His nimble fingers ran circles over and around them, pinching them into hardness. He jerked Ethan's shirt over his head roughly, and Kieran wrapped himself back against Ethan, flesh to flesh. Kieran ran his fingers up through the light covering of chest hair back up to continue playing with Ethan's nipple, pinching, teasing, making Ethan groan. Kieran's mouth had continued to be busy. He licked and sucked and bit along Ethan's neck and shoulder's, making his way up to his ear. There he traced his tongue along the shell of his ear, following the contours around this sensual spot. Kieran slowly bit down on Ethan's earlobe until he cried out. Satisfied at the noises and involuntary movements he had wrested from the smaller man, he kept his body against him as he looked down over his shoulder and the show Michael was putting on. Michael had made quick work of Ethan's belt, but waited until he had Ethan's attention to continue further. Ethan moaned, and was surprised when Kieran grabbed Ethan's jaw, his hand controlling Ethan's face, and wrested it back to Kieran's mouth, eating down the helpless noises Ethan was making. Taking control of his mouth, Kieran worked his lips and tongue and teeth over Ethan's mouth, claiming him, dominating him. Ethan could only let him, making noises he didn't know he had in him. Suddenly, Kieran jerked Ethan's mouth from his, his hand still gripping Ethan's jaw. Ethan made small noises of desire, trying to reach back to Kieran's mouth. Kieran forced Ethan's head to look down his body, where Michael was watching them from between Ethan's legs. Michael's blue eyes had turned midnight with passion and Ethan could feel his hot breath through his pants. teasing his hard cock. Kieran pressed his face against Ethan's, still holding his head in place, and whispered, "Watch." Looking up at both of them, Michael slowly drew his tongue up over Ethan's cock still trapped beneath his pants. Hearing Ethan moan, he did the same thing again, this time using his teeth to scrape across him with gentle pressure. With the extra stimulation, Ethan moaned, and might have tried to throw his head back, but Kieran's firm hand forced him to continue watching. Moving up, Michael's talented tongue had made short work of the button on Ethan's pants and was slowly drawing the zipper down with his teeth. He worked the elastic of his boxers down over Ethan's solid erection. Michael locked eyes with Ethan and ran his tongue around the swollen head of his cock, tasting and smearing the dripping pre-come around it. Smirking, Michael took his time licking & nibbling Ethan's cock as Ethan squirmed and made desperate noises. With an evil smile Michael took him into his mouth and began to slide Ethan's not inconsiderable length into his mouth. Ethan felt the head of his cock hit the back of Michael's throat. Ethan groaned as Michael used this stopping point to run over the head of Ethan's cock again & again. When Michael finally, slowly, pulled his mouth off of him, he let spit trails connect him to Ethan's cock. Again it was only Kieran's fingers that kept Ethan from throwing his head back in ecstasy. Using the thick spit he had gained as lube, Michael encircled his thumb and fingers around Ethan's cock. Michael worked Ethan's cock in and out of his mouth. He wasn't taking him as deep anymore but the suction was incredible. As Michael moved up and down, his fingers followed, using a twisting motion that reached the entire length of Ethan's cock. He had never felt anything like it. Mesmerized Ethan watched Michael, hands clenched in his hair, trying to hold back. He cried out – And sat straight up in bed.