“Since you won’t do the honorable thing and invite her out, I thought I’d throw a little party in her honor,” said Burns’ mom. She was standing in the doorway of his bedroom holding a big laundry basket.

“When?” he said. “I’ll be sure not to be there.”

He glanced at the laundry basket to make sure there was none of his stuff in it. It was one thing to live with your folks, another to be so immature you needed them to wash your clothes.

His hair was a mess this morning; apparently he’d been tossing and turning all night. If there had been bad dreams, he didn’t remember them, but yesterday had been pretty stressful. Maybe he’d tensed up in his sleep. That would explain his sore neck.

“I swear, Tommy, you’re going to give the poor girl a complex. I’m not saying you have to marry her. But Reverend Ron has been a good friend to this family, and the least we could do is welcome his child on her return to town. Get dressed and come downstairs; I need you to go to the store and pick up a few things before you go to work.”

He wandered into the shower, his thoughts muzzy as though he were still half-asleep. The hot spray needled him, and he began to massage shampoo into his hair. As the water hit the foam, it poured down his shoulders and torso, bubbles gathering in the ridges of his eight-pack.

Looking at himself, the way the water played against his skin, brought yesterday back to mind. Karl, pulling his shirt off, revealing a surprisingly trim, toned body.

Wow, dude, no.

That was the wrong direction to be thinking in. Karl? He must be really hard up, if he was standing here thinking about his best friend’s chest. That seemed pretty sick, thinking about the way Karl’s skin had gotten all bumpy in the air, the way his nipples had hardened.

You did not look at his nipples. Seriously.

Maybe he needed to go for a jog. Something to get his body moving and his brain under control. You could fight almost any urge, if you put your body through enough exercise. It had been his mainstay for years now. Whenever he found himself attracted to a guy, he’d just hit the gym a few more times a week, or go out boating or climbing or something, to give himself something to do other than longing for someone.

It made for a lonely fucking life, but it was better than hurting everyone by admitting he was gay.

Still, sometimes he wondered how far he intended to carry this. Was he prepared to be alone forever? Did he have some plan on coming out of the closet when his parents were cold in the ground? That was a morbid thought. Besides, he’d be in his sixties or whatever. Hello world, I’m fucking ancient, come get me.

Shit. What was he thinking? None of this even mattered, and he wouldn’t have thought about it at all, if Karl hadn’t popped into his head. Stupid Karl with his big brain and weird ideas. With his little trail of hair leading from his innie down…

Dude, quit!

Karl had turned his back when he was changing his pants. Burns had been pretending to read, but had been oddly charmed by Karl’s shyness. Maybe Karl didn’t want Burns to see his dick…but he’d given him a view of his thick, muscular ass.

Would it be a sin to jack off while thinking of your best friend’s ass? Probably. Besides, he needed to get dressed and do something to postpone this party his mom was thinking of. What did she think she was doing, trying to fix him up with people?

Ugh. He leaned against the tiled wall of the shower. His life was such a fucking mess. He tried so hard. Good son, good student, bright future. Always giving the world exactly what it wanted, in the hopes that someday it would give something back.

Who am I kidding? I’m never getting anything back. There’s no reward for being good.

Maybe it was the guilt that did it. Maybe it was just the need to clear his head. Without quite realizing it, his hand had encircled his soapy cock, and had begun stroking it. He was already getting hard.

Okay, fine. But don’t think about Karl.

Karl appeared in his mind’s eye. He was pulling his shirt off again, only this time it was much, much slower, each inch of skin being only gradually revealed. His downcast eyes glittered, his shyness preventing him from looking right at Burns. Lifting, slowly lifting, until his entire belly was revealed, the softness of the skin, with the hints of muscle underneath, the line of his hips…

Seriously. Think of something else, come on, man.

He was so hard, and it had been days since he’d jacked off. His balls were already tight and full, ready to blow. Burns bit his lower lip. In his imagination, Karl’s shirt had just come over his pecs, his face hidden, his nipples hard and pink and enticing, the perfect size for Burns’ lips. But oh no, somehow Karl’s pants had come unbuttoned, and they were opening, slipping down without any help, revealing a patch of soft, dark hair…

Burns groaned, bucking against his hand as the orgasm hit. His hand stroked faster, his cum getting lost in the spray of the shower, until he was emptied out. He stared at the tub drain, watching water, suds and semen circle down.

The guilt settled in, right in its old familiar place around his neck and shoulders. His cock, finished tormenting him for now, grew soft, even as his muscles tightened with tension.

Back in his room, towel around his waist, he tried not to think. You could live without thinking. You could be mechanical. Pull socks and briefs from the top drawer. T-shirts neatly folded in the second drawer. Jeans in the next, with khakis beside them.

On top of his dresser were pictures of his friends, his family, everyone who meant something to him. There was one of him and his dad up in the mountains, holding a mess of trout up to the camera. Had the expressions all changed, in the pictures? Had the smiles turned to grimaces of horror? Everyone in his life would be so disgusted if they knew what he’d just done. The world would turn its back on him.

He raised a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said to the pictures. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

* * *

“Can Karl come to the party?” he asked his mom.

“Oh, honey, do you really think that’s a good idea?” She was at the kitchen table, writing a list on the little spiral notebook she kept in her purse. He’d been watching her write in a series of little spiral notebooks his entire life. “I’m not sure he would get along with anyone.”

“He’ll be fine, Mom.”

“I wouldn’t want him to start any fights with Reverend Ron. Besides, the spotlight should be on Delia! She’s the one who is new in town.”

He poured himself a cup of coffee from the still-warm pot. “All the more reason to have Karl over, so she can meet more people her own age.”

His mother looked up from her list-making. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted to fix Delia up with Karl.”

“Now there’s a pair,” said his father, dressed for the bank in his suit and tie. “The commie and the preacher’s daughter. I think there’s a joke that starts with that.”

His mother scowled. “No one wants to hear that joke,” she said. She ripped the page out of her notebook, and handed it to Burns.

“This is a long list!” he said. “I’m not sure I can get all this before work.”

“List?” said his dad, looking over his shoulder. “Martha…this is your party list. Why are you throwing a party? Not for Reverend Ron’s kid?”

“She’s trying to fix me up,” said Burns.

“Martha! Tommy is too young and energetic to be tied down like that! Don’t you know the boy needs room to breathe?”

“I swear, you two, you’d think I’d been consulting with a matchmaker, the way you talk.” Burns’ mom rose from her chair and put her spiral notebook back into her purse, which closed with a click. “If you hadn’t noticed, Tom, your son has been moping around this house ever since he got back from college, and he seems a little lonely. What better way to cheer him up, than the company of a sweet girl?”

“The boy needs to sow his wild oats!” said his dad. “Remember when he was in college, and would tell us about all the girls he was meeting? It’s the prime of a young man’s life, and he shouldn’t squander it on a small-town preacher’s daughter. Unless…is she hot?”

“Oh, Tom!” cried Martha.

“Jeez, Dad!” cried Burns. Turning to his mom, he said, “Look, I’ll grab what I can at the store and swing back by before work. But you never did say if I could invite Karl.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you men!” she said. “Yes, fine, invite your little friend. But he had better not cause any trouble!”