“I don’t understand why you can’t be nice to her,” said Burns’ mom. “Aside from those tattoos, she is perfectly respectable.”

Of all the places on earth Burns might want to be, high on the list was somewhere in the mountains with Karl, making a hard hike through snow-powdered pines, nothing but solitude, another tent, huddling together for warmth, the taste of his lips…

Better not go there, he thought. Because of all the places he didn’t want to be, this was high on his list. Sitting in front of a plate of his mother’s tuna casserole, scratching a trench into it with his fork, being interrogated about his non-date with Delia.

“Leave the boy alone,” said his dad. “So he didn’t hit it off with the preacher’s girl. There’s a girl out there for him somewhere. Right Tommy?”

If he’d still been a teenager he would have blushed. He’d always hated talk of him having a girlfriend. In college it had been easy enough to lie. Oblique references to girlfriends and dates. Knowing looks from his dad.

He wasn’t a kid anymore. He had a boyfriend now. What would it be like to have a family where you could announce that? I met a guy. No, I didn’t meet him. It was someone I knew all along.

That was the most amazing part, the part he still couldn’t get over. Karl, of all people! What were the chances that they would’ve even become friends, let alone lovers (and here Burns could hear the sappy strings from his mother’s soap operas playing in his head)?

“I’d just like to know what’s so wrong with her,” his mom said.

From the start, their friendship had been a playful tug-of-war. Karl wanted to pull him into books, politics, economics, all his theories about the secret ways the world worked. Burns had pulled just as hard, getting Karl outside, going on hikes, going boating, trying to show him how to shoot baskets. That had been an event.

He realized his mom was waiting for an answer. “There’s nothing wrong with her,” he said. Except she has somehow figured out my secret and can’t be trusted.

“Then why won’t you call her? You got home so early last night. Are you sure you didn’t say anything to offend her?”

“College girl like that can’t get offended,” said his dad. “You know how those girls are. Smoking, cursing, carrying on.”

Burns poked at his tuna casserole again. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t smoke.”

“Reverend Ron would never allow it!” said his mother. “I’m surprised he allowed all the tattoos. Did you see those, Tom? All the way down her arm, like a sailor!”

“It’s not 1963,” said Burns. “People other than sailors do have tattoos.”

His mom reached across the table and clutched his hand. “Promise me you’re not thinking of getting one. Don’t defile your skin, Tommy.”

He shook his head. “When have I ever mentioned wanting to get a tattoo?”

“Oh, I just don’t know with you. You with your hush-hush conversations with Karl. Up there with your door closed. He’s not turning you against Delia, is he?”

The need to protect Karl hit him in a rush. Almost a dizziness.

She’d been so close to seeing them together. As it was, he was lucky his shirt had covered his crotch, because getting on top of Karl had made him visibly hard.

Maybe he needed to move out. Maybe that was the first step. He didn’t have enough money saved yet, he was still paying off his student loans, but surely that didn’t matter. Living with his parents might make sense financially, but how could he live here and still be with Karl? Was his relationship going to be a series of interrupted encounters?

Or you could just move in with Karl himself. You have a perfect cover story: you’re best friends.

The idea hit him like lightning. He could do that, couldn’t he? Karl was on his own now that his brother had moved out. He needed a roommate, and who better to live with you than your boyfriend?

Talk about dizzy, Burns was practically getting vertigo from this thought. To spend all his time with Karl. Never having to hide. Long talks beside him in bed, his hand stroking Karl’s flank, going further down…

Shit, calm it down Burns, you’re going to spring another hard-on at the worst possible time.

“I never did like that boy,” said Burns’ dad.

His mom shook her head. “He’s a bad influence.”

Telling them he was moving in with Karl would be nearly as bad as coming out. Not really. Coming out was the worst possible thing. Still, he could imagine the stress of it, and his stomach clenched.

“You’re not touching your tuna, Burns.” His mother looked at him with concern.

“Not too hungry,” he said, pushing his plate away.

“Is he turning you against Delia?” she asked. “Karl, I mean? Is he telling you bad things about her? I won’t have him interfering in your relationship with her!”

“Mom, there’s no relationship. Delia’s fine. She and Karl get along great. I just don’t like her.”

Her eyebrows rose in a kind of fearful sympathy. “But do you think you could learn to like her?”

“I don’t understand why this is so important to you,” he said.

“Your mother is worried about grandchildren,” said his dad. “She thinks we waited too long to have you, and now you’re going to dawdle and procrastinate instead of letting her have some babies to dote on.”

“Tom!” said his mother. “I won’t deny how much I long for some sweet little babies around the house. But I think you’re putting the cart before the horse.”

“Then what’s the big issue?” asked Burns. “Why do you keep pushing Delia on me?”

His mom’s face tightened. “I don’t know why I bother. You’re as bad as your father. Not a romantic bone in his body. Heaven forgive me for wanting my own son to find a wife who loves him.” She began gathering plates and silver, snatching the uneaten tuna casserole from in front of Burns.

“Mom—”

“Don’t Mom me, young man. All I do for you, and you can’t repay me by giving Delia a chance?”

* * *

“Move in? Here?” Karl looked around the apartment. “That makes suspiciously good sense. What’s the catch?”

Burns kissed him again. “There is no catch. They’re driving me insane. This Delia thing…I don’t know where it came from, but my mom is set on it.”

“You know what would stop her in her tracks?”

Burns groaned, although whether it was from the idea of coming out, or from Karl’s hands slipping down his pants to cup his ass, he couldn’t say.

How had he even visited Karl before this? It was strange to think that two weeks ago he might’ve just come in, landed on the couch, and had a conversation with Karl, without their hands exploring each other, without kisses or significant looks.

What a strange procession of events.

“Can we just not talk about my family for half an hour?”

Karl pulled him close. “Thirty minutes? I’ve got an idea of what could fill up that time.”

“Does it involve blowing me again? Because I’m on board with that.”

“I think it’s time you learned how to do it,” said Karl, pulling him over to the sofa.

“I don’t know, man, you didn’t tell me this relationship was going to involve me having to do stuff.”

He was already pulling off Karl’s shirt, eager to get to the soft skin underneath. They kissed again, Karl’s arms around his shoulders. The moment the kiss broke, Karl began to press him downward, an evil smile on his face. Obediently Burns sank to his knees.

“So you’ve never sucked anybody before?” Karl asked him.

“Is it stupid that I find it a little scary?”

“It’s just a dick, it doesn’t bite. It might enjoy being nibbled on, but that’s different.”

Burns unbuttoned Karl’s pants, and Karl lifted his hips to allow the pants to be slipped down. He was wearing blue boxer-briefs underneath, form-fitting. His cock was thickening as he watched, the flare of its head plainly visible.

He leaned forward, inhaled the musk of his friend. It was such an earthy scent, it ignited something inside him, something primal and deep. He put his lips against the clothed shaft. Its warmth greeted him, and Karl gasped.

“You like that?” asked Burns.

“Less talking. More mouthing.”

It was strange, not knowing where to start. His secretive forays into watching gay porn really hadn’t taught him anything; the guys in the videos just went straight at it, all tongues and panting and speed.

He didn’t want to speed through this. He’d never actually seen another cock up close. Karl’s definitely liked the attention; it twitched and jumped as he nuzzled it through the briefs. He put a tentative hand against it, his palm flat, the heat seeping into his skin. Gingerly, as though he might break it if he went too fast, he began lightly stroking the shaft. It became harder still, and as Karl groaned, precum began to soak through the fabric.

What did it taste like? Curiosity got the better of him. He took the waistband and pulled it down. Karl’s cock popped out, tall and hard.

Is there such a thing as being a gay virgin? Burns wondered. How does it work? Is each different act a new virginity to lose? It seemed so momentous, approaching Karl’s hardness, the precum dripping down its head, as though once Burns crossed this boundary he would be truly, irrevocably gay.

He tasted Karl with his tongue. The precum was slightly salty, a little sticky but thin. It made him wonder what Karl’s actual cum tasted like. Suddenly he was hungry for it. I can find out, I can suck him off until he fills my mouth with cum. It’s all in my power.

There was just one problem.

“I’m not sure what to do,” he said.

Karl laughed. “Seriously?”

“I mean…do I just put it in my mouth? Do I have to suck it hard, like a milkshake?”

Karl reached down and took his hand. He guided it to the base of his cock. “Hold me here,” he said.

Burns wrapped his hand around the shaft.

“Now, really slowly, just stroke it, up and down. Yeah. Like that. Slower. Just…yeah.” Karl’s head fell back and he sighed. More precum dripped from his slit. Burns tasted it again.

“Put the head in your mouth,” whispered Karl. “Don’t suck it, just get a feel for it.”

Even though Karl was rock-hard, there was still a pleasant softness to his head, as it touched Burns’ tongue. Warm, silky, salty. He used his tongue to explore it. The underside…what was that called, a frenulum? Whatever it was, it was tight right now, it reminded him of a guitar string ready for plucking. He rubbed it with the tip of his tongue, and Karl groaned.

“I’m trying to hold back,” Karl said. “Give you some more practice. But dude, it’s not easy. I want to fuck your mouth.”

“Language,” said Burns, but it came out funny because his mouth was otherwise occupied.

He began to slide down Karl’s cock. Not far. He was actually scared. But he got more of the shaft into his mouth.

Why was it so thrilling? It’s like it gave him a sense of power. Power over Karl himself? Maybe that was it, or maybe there was just something about sucking a cock that made you feel in control. Hell, you were in control. One false move, teeth snapping down—

Okay, don’t think too much about teeth.

Slowly, cautiously, he allowed more of Karl’s length into his mouth. The cock head was now pressing against the roof of his mouth. It was getting crowded in there. He began to draw his mouth off of it, lifting slowly, using his tongue still to explore the underside, the soft give of the veins, the hard core of it.

“Keep…doing…that,” uttered Karl.

How far could he go? It seemed like a challenge. Karl had a pretty thick cock, not porn-star long (thank god) but sizable. Burns went back down, passing the point he’d gotten to before, still amazed at the effect he was able to have on his friend.

I’m doing this. I’m making him hot. He’s trying his hardest not to buck his hips, not to force his whole cock into me all at once, but he wants to. Look at him, biting his lip like that. He likes this!

Burns liked it too. Without realizing it, he had reached into his pants and freed his own cock, and now he stroked it as he blew Karl.

He panicked for just a second, when Karl touched the back of his throat.

Karl must have heard his sharp intake of breath. “Swallow,” he whispered.

“Mm?”

“It’ll feel better if you swallow.”

So he did, and sure enough, it took some of the panic away, like he wasn’t going to simply drown in cock.

Oh, but that idea, of being bathed in Karl’s cum, was so hot that his hand was flying on his own cock now. He went down even further on Karl, taking short breaks to come all the way up, sliding back down a little further each time, until his lips reached the base, and his nose was buried in Karl’s thatch.

“Oh god,” said Karl, “I can’t, man, I can’t hold back.”

Don’t, thought Burns, don’t hold back, I want to taste it, I want it in me, all of you. He went faster now, feeling Karl’s hands on the back of his head, not forcing him down, just suggesting it, suggesting that maybe Burns would like to suck the entire length, all at once.

It couldn’t last, though. Karl groaned, and now he did buck his hips, catching Burns off-guard, Karl shoving his cock deep into Burn’s mouth, the sudden pulsing of the shaft, and then he was coming, and it was like nothing Burns had ever experienced. Hot, salty cum filled his mouth. So much of it he didn’t know what to do. Spit, swallow, neither seemed possible. He swallowed, but there was still so much it spilled out from his lips, but he didn’t want to waste a drop, and so he kept on it, kept sucking, feeling each wave of orgasm pass through Karl’s cock.

Then Burns himself groaned. It was too much for him to bear, his own seed spilling out over his hand.

They were lost in their climaxes, their groaning and gasping filling the air.