Luxury Love

I met Michael during my first day at boarding school in Year 9. He, along with the other students, had known each other for a few years. I, on the other hand, was starting fresh- I'd never met any of them before, and as anew scholarship student, and son of working class parents, felt quite out of place at one of the most prestigious and expensive schools in the country. At that early stage, I don't even think I was sure that I was gay, but seeing Michael certainly pushed my mind in the right direction. Even at 15he was the most gorgeous guy I'd seen- about 5'8", slim and toned, but not overly muscular. He had a fantastic tan and physique from playing sports, and carried himself with a certain quiet confidence. Despite his fantastic body, it was his face that really caught my attention. He had (and still has) the cutest face I've ever known. Clear hazel eyes, with distinct dark flecks within them, a well-shaped nose and chin, a strong jaw and the first signs of approaching stubble. And then, he smiled. Just a quick, cheeky grin in response to one of his friend's jokes. Those few seconds, however, are etched in my memory forever- the way his smile lit up his entire face made me promise myself that I would meet this boy.

I'd been standing in the Boarding House common room, listening to the Housemaster, Mr. Horus, give his standard "Welcome to the new year" address to the group of students when I saw him smile for the first time. I was so intoxicated that I barely even heard Mr. Horus say my name, introducing me to the rest of the students. I snapped out of my trance just in time to give a feeble smile to the group of 50-odd boys aged between 14 and 18.After Horus left the room the boys started talking louder, catching up on the stories of the Christmas holidays. Slowly, the boys in my grade approached me and started introducing themselves.-"Hi, I'm Jimmy"-"I'm Lyell, how're you going?"-"Hey man, I'm Michael. Hope you like it here. It's not too bad once you get used to it."I stood there, trying to take in names, and not stare at Michael, when I finally replied, "Hi. I'm Robbie. It's nice to meet you guys. So what do we do now?"-"Well, it's almost 9.30, so we have to get to bed. School rules", one of the others said. I can't remember who it was exactly- I think all the people I'd met (besides from Michael of course) started to blend into each other at that stage. I followed the group of boys up the stairs to the open dorm, sleeping 16boys. I was wondering where we went to get changed for bed, until I noticed the other boys shedding their clothes freely. Apparently years of dorm living meant that inhibitions flew out the window- definitely something I was going to have to work on. From a purely voyeuristic point of view, however, I couldn't complain. 15 other boys all getting naked in front of me, without even worrying about the others watching. The compulsory sport and PE had obviously worked wonders with these boys. Sure, there were a few who were nothing special, but for the most part these boys should have been marked "instant hard-on". Being in the younger dorm, the boys around me were between 14 and 16, mostly tanned after the summer holidays. Body shapes ranged from beefy rugby types to the slimmer athletes; hairy chest sand legs, to smooth hairless bodies; penises of all shapes and sizes- a sea of sexy young guys surrounding me, all gorgeous in their own way, but I could barely keep my eyes off Michael.

Even in the few quick glimpses I could secretly take, I memorize his entire gorgeous form. If I was love-struck before, then I was completely in lust now. His body was deeply tanned all over, except from a small white patch where he wore his shorts. His uncut penis was about 4" long and soft, buried in a sexy patch of dark curls which extended up into a thin abs-trail. His smooth chest only served to accent his dark little nipples, and I caught a glimpse of dark hair as he lifted his arms to remove his shirt. As he turned around to grab his boxers, I saw his butt, and one word ran through my mind- perfection. Lilywhite, hairless skin, stretched smoothly over two flawless round cheeks. Believe me, when I finally got to sleep, it was that butt that inhabited my dreams. I woke up the next morning, and quickly began the routine of showering and dressing in front of a group of other boys. As I expected, my inhibitions about being naked around them took some time to get over, but eventually I did get used to the whole situation (it did take a while to learn how to “control myself" in the shower though.) Over the same period of time the boys, who at one stage had blended all together, took on their own personalities, but even after my immediate lust wore off, Michael still shone out. He was always there when you wanted to have a good time, always there for a laugh or a joke. On the other hand, he was also one of the only guys who I felt comfortable enough around, in those first months, to talk more seriously with. Whether you had a problem with school, teachers, parents, or friends, you could always count on Andy to say the right thing, and keep it in absolute confidence. As the months wore on, I looked at Michael less as an object of lust, and more as a close friend (who just happened to be gorgeous). By the time it came for us to go home for the Christmas holidays, I knew that I had settled in to my new life, and was secure in my network of friends, but I also knew that I would miss them terribly. Over the next few years I grew attached to all of the guys I lived with, in one way or another.

A bond developed between myself and Michael, however which was unlike any other friendship I had had. Just as my view of him changed from lust to friendship earlier, I realized over time that my feelings had turned from friendship to something much deeper. I watched intently, hoping for some sign that he felt the same way about me, but I saw nothing. Even when he was comforting me in times of sadness, it never seemed like anything more than friendly, almost brotherly, affection. After four of the best years of my life, it was time to complete our final exams and leave school. I had convinced myself that I would tell him when we were ready to leave- at least if he completely rejected me I wouldn't have to see him every day anymore. Still, I couldn't tell him. The thought of Michael, who I truly considered one of my best friends, hating me or feeling uncomfortable around me was too much too risk; I just didn't want to jeopardize our friendship. About six months passed after the end of school and it looked as though we had lost contact. The distance between our two cities, coupled with university and work commitments made it incredibly difficult to keep in touch. One night, I was busy with a Law assignment when an ICQ instant message popped up:-Robbie, is that you? It's Michael. I had to hide my sheer delight from the others in my room, and pretend that this was just another friend messaging me. On the inside however, I was almost bursting. I honestly think that’s a pretty reliable way of telling if you’re in love- when there doesn't have to be anything sexual at all; when just seeing someone, hearing their voice, or in this case seeing their typed words on a screen makes you weak at the knees. I was like that with Michael- just being near him made me content and at ease. I really thought I’d lost him over the last 6 months, and now that we'd found a way to keeping contact, I was determined not to lose him again. It turned out that Michael had only just received his new computer from his parents, but once he did we were often trading emails and icq messages, and I felt happy again just having him back in my life. And then came September 15th 2000...As most of you know Sydney held the Olympic games in 2000, and it was quite big deal for most people here in Australia. Michael's parents held an Opening Ceremony party at his house, and he invited me to come.

I can still remember how nervous I felt on the way to his house. Would we still be as comfortable around each other? Would I still be able to hide my feelings for him after a few drinks? It'd been about 10 months since I'd last seen him, would I still have feelings for him at all? In fact this last thought kept running through my head over and over. I knew it would be EASIER if I didn’t feel the way I did about him; maybe after months apart I'll realize that his smile doesn't make me weak at the knees anymore, and I was making more of my feelings than they were worth- absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that. That thought though was blown out of the water as soon as he opened his front door, saw me, smiled, and pulled me into a big hug. In those few seconds I fell deeper and harder for him than I had even at school. Yes, his smile still drove me wild and just feeling him pressed next to me made me realize that this was how I wanted to spend the rest of my life. I let him go and mingle with the rest of his guests, and I did the same, mostly just chatting to people I knew, catching up on stories of the past 12months.Throughout the course of the night we chatted, drank, watched the amazing Opening Ceremony and generally had a great time. Eventually, everyone else had gone to bed, and it was just Andy and I sitting in his spa talking. I longed to touch him, to feel him next to me, but I enjoyed simply talking with him just as much. Again, I realized that my feelings for him were the real thing. Sitting there in the hot water we managed to laugh, joke, reminisce about old times, and silly things that we had done and then talk about politics, law, and travel- I could really talk to him about anything and everything. At about 5am, the alcohol, tiredness and hot water became a bit too much and we decided to go to bed. Seeing as everyone else had retired hours ago, the only place to stay with disturbing everyone was, you guessed it, Michael’s room.

So, i slept (eventually) on a mattress on his bedroom floor. Before I fell asleep I had to endure the torture of listening to him breathe, knowing he was right next to me and this was precisely where I wanted to be forever, but that I could never be with him. Now why, I hear you ask, didn't I try something- I was sleeping in his room, we'd both been drinking, he'd been friendly all night etc. Even in my drunk state I realized that I was more in love with this gorgeous 18yo than ever, and there was no way I was willing to jeopardize our friendship. Like said before, even without the sexual element, just being friends with him and knowing that he's close is enough to make me happy. The things I love about him are the things he gives freely, without needing to be in relationship- his smile, his laugh, his advice and support- and for the moment, just having them was enough. That didn't mean that I didn't spend the next few months cursing myself, wishing I'd tried something with him, feeling depressed that I wasn't with him. We managed to stay in contact through email and icq over the next few months, running into each other coincidentally in Sydney a few times as well, and then in January 2001 we went through a very difficult time together, involving one of our friends (which I'd prefer not to write about), but all I know is that when we turned to comfort each other at the same time, holding each other, crying onto each other’s shoulders, it felt right. I couldn't bear to see him in pain, and I just wanted to make him feel better any way I could, and having his arms wrapped tightly around me comforted me more than anyone could ever know. When the university year started a month later distance separated us once again, as we went back to our everyday lives still keeping in touch. Then Andy dropped his bombshell- he'd decided to take six months off and travel through America, starting in July. I knew what this meant- NO chance of seeing him, and very few phone calls. It turned out that even emails were few and far between because of his constant travelling, meaning that he is very rarely at a computer, and when he is he always has heaps of people to write to, so long, personal emails are out of the question.

The few emails and postcards I have received have always brought a smile to my face though. We finally organized a time for a phone call about a week ago, adjust hearing his voice, hearing his almost childlike enthusiasm for his travels, kept me on a high for days. The smile on my face must have said it all. One of my friends came up to me the day of the call, and said,-"What's up with you? I haven't seen you this happy in weeks. You've been talking to Michael, haven't you?"I honestly didn't think I was that transparent, but apparently I am. I realize now though, that I can't keep going like this. As much as I love him, and as much as his voice can pick me up out of a rut, it's not enough anymore. For one thing, I'm in the rut BECAUSE of him. I can't stay in relationship with any guy, because I always end up comparing them to Andy, and they lose. So I've decided that no one relationship should mean that I stuff up the rest of my life- I'm not allowing myself to miss out on other, potentially rewarding relationships anymore, on the off-chance that Michael has feelings for me. And so, when he returns from America in six weeks, three days and 14 hours, I'm going to confront him. I'm going to tell him how I feel. If he reciprocates, then I'll feel like an idiot for wasting the last six years, but at least I'll have my man. If he doesn't feel the same way, then I'll feel like an idiot for my major case of unrequited love, but at least I'll have my life...

I woke up just before 6am on Sunday the 11th of December, alone as usual, to the persistent ringing of my phone. "Great," I thought to myself, "I only got home from work 4 hours ago, and now some arsehole is ruining my one chance a week to sleep in. This'd better be good." In fact, I fully intended to repeat that sentiment to whoever was inconsiderate enough to be calling me at this god-forsaken hour. "This'd better be good," I answered grumpily, when I picked up the receiver. "Fine then," a familiar voice responded playfully, "maybe I'll just call you when you're a little more civil." "Andy? Man, its not even 6 in the morning and it's a Sunday. You of all people know I'm not a morning person." I replied, trying to sound angry, even though my annoyance died as soon as I heard his voice. "Is it only 6? Sorry, I thought it'd be later there," he told me, sounding a little remorseful. "Not that it matters- I would have called anyway." So much for remorse, I thought, before replying "So what’s the emergency? Where are you?" "I'm in Singapore Airport, waiting for a flight home. It leaves in an hour, so I'll be home by 4 pm, your time." "What?!" I asked, incredulously. "You said you weren't coming home until the end of next month. Why the sudden change?" "I just got sick of it," he replied bluntly. "No, that's not exactly true. I was still enjoying myself, but I just wanted to see the family and everyone at home. The main reason I was staying the extra month was so I could meet up with Mum and Dad and my brothers while they were overseas, but they've decided to cancel their trip and stay in Australia, so I thought I might just head back. I've had my fun, now its time to come home." "So, you'll be here for Christmas and New Years? That’s a far cry from the slopes of Austria." I teased, "But it'll be good to have you back. I've missed you mate. Besides, you had to listen to all my painfully boring overseas travel stories, now you can take your revenge." "That's kind of why I'm ringing actually." he told me, cryptically. "Like I said, I'm getting home tonight and having a big family dinner, but I was hoping you could come over some time over the next few days. I've got heaps to tell you, and Mum and Dad would love to see you." "I'd love to come, but it won't be for a few days. I'm getting a few weeks off work, so I can go home and visit Dad for Christmas. I have to go through Sydney on the way home on Wednesday- how about I come over then?" "Sounds like a plan," he said happily. "Great, well I'll see you then. Have a good flight, and call me to let me know you got in OK." "Will do. See ya" I hung up the phone, with all thoughts of returning to sleep gone. I was too awake, too excited.

I was going to see Andy, almost 6 weeks before I'd expected to. I couldn't wait to see him, and to hear his stories, but my mind kept venturing back to the vow I made to myself yesterday. Could I really tell him how I felt? It was easy to convince myself that I could when it was 6 weeks before I'd have to do it. Now, I knew that I'd be seeing him in only 3 days- would I still have the guts to tell him? "OK, OK. Calm down." I told myself. "It'll be OK, just relax, calm down, go on as normal." Which is exactly what I did? For the next 3 days I carried on as normal. I worked; I packed the car ready for my trip home, and tried not to dwell on the idea of seeing Andy. I got to the outskirts of Sydney on Wednesday afternoon before I called him. "Hey, it's me," I said. "Listen, I can't stay long. This weather is shocking. I can barely see the road in front of me with all this rain. I've just come in to Sydney, and I should be at your place within 30 mins or so." "OK. No need to rush though, just drive safely. See you soon. Bye" I went back to concentrating on the road, and eventually pulled up in the driveway. I sat in the driver’s seat for about 5 minutes, composing myself, before I got out and made the mad dash through the pouring rain to his front door. I knocked, and couldn't help but smile when he opened it, holding a towel. "I figured you'd need this," he said, grinning at me. "Come on in, get yourself dried up- there are some fresh shirts in my room. I'll grab us a couple of beers. I reckon you'd need one of those too." "That’s for sure," I said as I walked automatically to his bedroom. "I don't think I've seen a storm like this for ages." I put on one of Andy's old T-shirts, and could recognize his unique smell on the material. "That’s why Mum and Dad aren't here," he told me, handing me a Too his Extra Dry. "They were at a friend's place, but neither of them are game to drive until this storm eases up. Apparently, they're spending the night over there, and they made me promise to make you stay here tonight. They said they didn't want you driving- especially not at night, in the rain, after you've been drinking." "Yeah, yeah. Believe me, there's no way I'd get on the wrong side of your Mum." I said jokingly. "Besides, she's got a good point. It wouldn't exactly be the smartest thing I could do." "Great. Now that that's settled, let's get something to eat. I'm starving.

Mum had planned a big dinner, but seeing as they're stuck on the other side of Sydney that won't be happening. What about we just cook up some steaks? We can still use up some of the salads Mum made that way." "Sounds good to me. I'll go get the barbecue fired up, and you get the steaks and salads." I walked outside to the barbecue, thankful for the large covered area his parents had recently built. I lit the barbecue, and waited for Andy to come out with our food. In the meantime, I stood listening to the constant drumming of the rain on the roof above, and wondered how on earth I was going to tell him how I felt without ruining the friendship that meant so much to me. He woke me out of my daze with a clap on my shoulder, and another beer. For the next few hours we went about the business of cooking and eating dinner, chatting, and generally just acting as though we'd seen each other only a week before- it honestly was that comfortable with him. The only difference this time was that he had 6 months of international travel stories to tell me. At some point we found ourselves sitting on the couch, looking through another photo album. Suddenly, the sky lit up fluorescently as a bolt of lightning earthed somewhere nearby, and seconds later the house was left in darkness. "I should've known this would happen," Andy said. "I'll go and get some candles from my room, and I'll be right back" I sat, waiting for his return, watching as the occasional bolt of lightning would briefly illuminate the house, only to plunge it back into darkness a second later. Eventually Andy returned, placed the candles on the table in front of us and lit them, giving the room a soft flickering glow. I took me a moment to realize that something had changed; the comfortable atmosphere of only a minute ago seemed to have gone. I reached over to touch Andy's shoulder, but he flinched from me. "Andy, there's something wrong. What's the matter?" I asked, concern evident in my voice. "Why did it have to be like this? I told myself it was going to be tonight, and now this just makes it so much harder.

Why does everything have to be so hard?" He blurted, words coming out a mile a minute. "Shhh, you're not making any sense. Just relax, it'll be OK. I'm here. OK, what was going to be tonight?" "I was going to tell you." "Tell me what, Andy?" "That I'm gay!" he shouted at me, before curling up back on the lounge. I didn't know what this did to my plan to tell him. If anything, it actually made things more difficult more me. I was determined to tell HIM, to face absolute rejection as he told me he was straight. Now, I knew that he was gay, and while I was excited at the prospect of there being at least a chance between us, there was another worry on my mind. At least if he was straight, I could believe that it was impossible for him to love me. What would I do if he told me now, after telling me he was gay, that he just wasn't interested? I honestly thought that would hurt more, that he would be personally rejecting ME, not just guys in general. Then, I turned and looked at him curled up, softly crying on the lounge, and I realized that this wasn't about me anymore. I hated to see him like this, and all I wanted to do was comfort him. I leant across to him, put my hand on his face, and tilted it so that he was looking at me. "Andy, there's no need to cry. It's OK." "I was so afraid that you'd hate me for it, that you'd never want to talk to me. That was the last thing I wanted, but I had to tell you. I'm sick of lying" "Calm down. I could never, EVER hate you. Tell me, are you still the same person you were 2 minutes ago, before you told me you were gay? Are you still the same person who helped me through so many hard times? Are you still the same person who I can sit, talk and laugh with like no-one else I know?" "I guess so." he replied, his fear seeming to drain away "Then you have got absolutely nothing to worry about. I'll be there for you no matter what." I told him, with absolute honesty. "Have you told your parents?" He shook his head. "Your brothers?" Another shake. "Anyone?" "No-one, only you" "Well, I'm honored. But, I would have thought it would be easier to tell a girl friend, rather than a guy." "It probably would have been. But, I had to tell you first." I watched as the fear seemed to rise in his face again. "I had to see how you'd react. I'm just so tired of hiding, Robbie." "Why is it so important how I react?" "Because I love you, Robbie." he told me slowly and softly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I've always loved you, and I always will, but I can't go on pretending anymore. I love just spending time with you, but it drives me almost insane being so close to you, and not being able to touch you." I sat, silent and open-mouthed as he rattled off the reasons why he loved me, the special times we had shared which had confirmed his feelings, and was amazed that they were the same reasons and times together that made me realize how much I loved him. It amazed me that we had both shared the same feelings for so long, realized our feelings at the same times, and yet neither of us ever knew how the other felt. "Please Robbie, say something." "I, I, I don't know what to say." I stammered, the shock of his words apparently severing the link between my brain and mouth.

"I know this must be difficult- a straight guy having his recently-outed gay best friend professing his love for him musn't be the most comfortable situation on earth." "No." I said forcefully, "that's not it at all. I don't know what to say, because..." I took a deep breath before continuing, slowly, surely, "I don't know what to say, because you've just said everything I haven't had the guts to say for the last 4 years." With that said, everything else just came out in a tumble- being gay, my feelings for him, the torture of living the last 4 years thinking I could never be with him. I watched as it was his turn to sit open-mouthed, silent, disbelieving. "Wow," he said, staring at me, looking as though he were trying to catch his breath. "Now I'm the one who doesn't know what to say." I stared straight back at him, looking deep into his eyes, amazed by how they shone in the flickering candlelight. Eventually, I replied "Maybe we don't have to say anything anymore." Both of us started leaning forward, slowly and nervously, knowing that things would be very different from now on. Time seemed to move in slow motion, and it felt like minutes had passed before our lips finally met, destroying any last doubts about our feelings for each other. Even just this light grazing of our lips sent a shock through my body, which only intensified when I felt his fingers softly stroking my cheek. I was so caught up in this kiss that when I heard a soft moan escape from our lips I couldn't tell whether it came from him or me. 6 years of pent up emotion seemed to be expressed as our mouths met. As his lips caressed mine, I could feel all the love we'd hidden from each other for so long. As my tongue softly flicked across his bottom lip, I knew he could feel the same thing. As another soft moan escaped our lips, I finally realized- it came from both of us. Still the storm raged outside, but inside, in the arms of my love, I was oblivious to it. All I knew at that moment was him; drinking in every possible detail, etching them permanently into my memory- the feel of his lips against mine, the soft intake of breath he occasionally made, the warmth of his cheek under my hand, that scent which regardless of cologne was exclusively Andy, the way the candlelight played across his face. Eventually we parted, looked at each other, and came to a silent agreement. Slowly, we walked to Andy's bedroom, never breaking physical contact.

I watched him intently as he stripped down to his fitted boxers, showing off the body which was my idea of perfection. I watched as he blushed thanks to my intense scrutiny, and I couldn't help but giggle when he looked back at me cheekily, daring me to follow suit. I undressed, and still without a word between being uttered between us, we crawled into his bed, his back resting against my stomach and chest. I placed an arm over his body and held him close to me, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck. Slowly, our breathing fell into sync and we slept, finally at peace with ourselves. I awoke the next morning to find the storm had cleared, letting sunlight stream into Andy's room. We had changed positions at some stage during the night, I realized, as I was now lying comfortably on my back. Andy, sleeping peacefully, was sprawled almost face-down over my chest, his right hand on my left shoulder, his head on my right. I was content to just lay there and watch him sleep; soaking in the warm morning sunlight, memorizing the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, so peacefully as he slept. I couldn't help myself, and I reached down to gently stroke his hair, trying desperately not to wake him. Eventually, lulled by sound of his breathing, I fell asleep once again, with a smile on my face. I awoke again sometime later, and even before I opened my eyes I sensed that we had changed positions once again. I could feel myself lying on my side, my arms wrapped around him, enjoying the feeling of his warm body next to me. "You can stop pretending now, Robbie" he said knowingly, "I can tell that you're awake." I turned my head, opened my eyes finally and looked up at him, quizzically. "How could you tell?" I asked. He looked back at me, blushing slightly. "I've just been lying here watching you sleep for the last 15 minutes," he replied, his blush spreading. "I could hear your breathing change the moment you woke up. God, that sounds so corny." "It's not corny, it's sweet." I told him truthfully, "Besides, I watched you while you were sleeping too. You just didn't wake up and catch me." That seemed to calm him a little, and slowly our breathing slowed, once again falling into a single rhythm. I could feel myself dozing off again, when Andy broke me out of my relaxing state. "Robbie, what happened last night?" he asked nervously.