Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

attention before. Although he was one of the more crass and rude personalities in the company. And I couldn't think of anything I'd ever done before that might cast suspicion on my sexuality. I mean, I'd done enough time hanging out with the guys outside of the base and I'd always felt like I fit right in as a "regular guy."
    After that encounter though, I always made sure I carried a spare set of clothes in the truck when I went to Chase's.
    ****
    Wednesday, I got a text from Chase:
    Scored tickets 2 the Padres game Sun! So bring a bag & plan 2 spend the wknd at Casa Michaels. : )
    Shit . I spent the rest of the week trying to think of plausible excuses I could give, but by Friday night my brain had given up on the idea and honestly, I didn't feel right lying to Chase, anyway.
    So, there I was on his doorstep Saturday morning, 0900 hours right on the dot. And damn if he wasn't wearing those same holey jeans again. This time with bright blue briefs. I wanted to razz him about them, hoping maybe he'd take the hint and quit wearing those particular jeans. Then again, I didn't want him to think I was looking at his ass all the time, either.
    The good thing was that we actually got the deck all completed. To celebrate, Chase grilled steaks and potatoes and we ate dinner outside on the new deck and watched the sun set. I hated to admit it, but it was actually pretty perfect. Since I didn't have to drive home I drank a couple more beers than I normally would have. I was relaxed enough that I caught myself several times blatantly staring at Chase. At his dimples when he smiled or laughed. At the five-o-clock shadow on his chin that I was dying to lick. At the way his lips wrapped around the mouth of his beer bottle and the way his adam's apple bobbed as he drank. I could just imagine other places those lips would be useful. I swore, every time I thought he wasn't looking I was reaching down and trying to adjust myself, which was not easy. My dick was so hard there wasn't much I could do to disguise it.
    ****
    "Adam? Adam? Come on, man, wake up."
    "Uummm... yes, coming..." Suddenly my head jerked up and my eyes opened— to find Chase's face inches from mine. Just a little more movement, a little bit farther and we could be kissing. A few beats passed as we just stared into each other's eyes, Chase's flickering with that "something" that I swore I saw last weekend. The booze in my system fueled me to lean a little closer just at the same moment Chase chose to step back and straighten up. He chuckled, but it sounded forced.
    "Dude, I go inside for like ten minutes and come out to find you out like a light! I either wore you out today or you're a lightweight with the beer."
    My heart sank. It was dark so I knew he wouldn't be able to see the disappointment that had to be splashed across my face.
    "Yeah, well it's been a tough week... a lot of physical training." I lied. "I guess I'd better hit the sack early."
    In the spare bedroom, all I did was toss and turn. I finally got up and went into the small half-bathroom that was attached to the bedroom and jerked myself off. I took some of my frustration out on my cock, stroking and pulling quick and rough, and biting on a towel to muffle my shouts as I came into the stupid sink.
    After I cleaned up I stood there for a while staring at myself in the mirror. I was angry that I couldn't seem to control my body around Chase. Angry that he obviously didn't see me as anything other than his buddy, his old childhood friend. And I was angry that this was interfering in my friendship with him. Because above all, I didn't want to lose that. But I also didn't know how to fix this.
    I woke the next morning with a clearer perspective— I would bury my feelings and continue on. I rationalized that my problem was just that I hadn't been around Chase in so long, and if I ignored my feelings long enough they would eventually go away. Yes, that made sense.
    The ball game was easier to get through than I expected. In part, I smugly told myself, because of the decision I had made that morning. In reality, I think it was mostly the baseball game— it gave me something else to focus on other than Chase.
    Even though the deck was done, Chase did have more stuff he could use some help with, mainly the interior of the house. Luckily, he said he couldn't work next weekend. He didn't say why and I didn't probe him, only too happy to have some time and distance between him and I.
    The next Friday night I