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I kept my eyes closed in pleasure while those talented lips dissolved my anger at work and the argument with my girlfriend into nothing. I was going to send her packing soon anyway.
“Oh damn, that’s good,” I gasped, giving in to the climax.
Shortly afterwards, those almost perfect lips released me.
Fabian stood up and looked at me pleadingly with his hazel eyes, his hand on his belt. His light brown hair was ruffled by my hands, and his slender, runner-like body was tense and unsteady. My anger immediately returned.
“What’s going on?” I snapped at him.
"I was hoping I could relieve myself next to you, just this once. Please, Patrick."
"How many times, actually? I don't want to watch you playing with yourself. Go to the bathroom or piss off home, got it?"
He was about to have one of those crying fits again and looked at me sadly.
“Okay, then get out of here, I’ll get back to you.”
I knew I was hurting him, but he wanted it that way. We'd been meeting regularly for six months, ever since our company Christmas party. He started working for us in the middle of last year to earn some extra money to help with his studies, even though his parents financed most of his expenses.
I noticed relatively early on that he liked being around me, but initially dismissed it as a coincidence. But when he caught Tini, my girlfriend, and me having sex late one night in my office, I saw his tears and knew there was more to it. I watched him for almost half a year, testing his reactions to my proximity, and I was quite certain that he was in love with me.
My inexplicable curiosity about what his lips would feel like grew. At the party, I drank a little too much, and in my drunken state, an idea came to me. Before I completely got drunk, I asked Fabian if he would drive me home. As expected, he was immediately willing. At home, I told him about my curiosity and was actually convinced he wouldn't be able to resist.
At first he looked at me in disbelief, but then he went along with it. After the admittedly brilliant climax, disillusionment set in. I had let a homosexual touch my cock and I liked it. He made a move to undress, and I asked him to leave. He hesitated for a moment and gave me a pleading look. I told him to leave again, and this time he did, wordlessly and visibly sad.
It didn't stop at just one time; it was too hot for that. One word from me was enough, and he was there again and again. He had to know that I only cared about one thing: the feeling of his gifted lips.
Fabian reminded me a bit of my mother. My father was the undisputed master of the house, and she had no say in the matter. She tolerated his affairs and turned to alcohol. In his eyes, feelings were unjustified; they only distracted from his true goals. I was a studious student, and Fabian didn't exactly count as a man to me.
Tini was completely different from my mother, a dominant control freak, and this often led to arguments. Nevertheless, I stayed with her. My father openly expressed his dislike for her. They hated each other.
I stood up and pulled up my pants without comment. Fabian was still standing in the same spot.
"Tell me, are you deaf? You know the game. How many times? I'm not into guys, so be glad I let you do this sometimes. It's fine, okay, but I don't owe you anything."
Sighing, he closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. "Okay, I'll wait for your call. See you then."
He trotted sadly to the door and gently closed it behind him. A short time later, I saw him through the window as he left the property, his shoulders slumped.
The euphoria of orgasm had completely faded, replaced by my anger. This idiot just wouldn't get it. Was it my fault he'd fallen in love with me? I'd never given him any hope. He was just allowed to suck on me sometimes because he was really damn good at it.
I went to the bar, grabbed the good single malt, and washed down my anger with a half-full glass. After the third refill, I suddenly felt a little sorry for him.
“It’s his own fault,” I muttered and picked up the phone.
“What do you want?” came a sharp voice from the receiver.
"Tini, I'm sorry about the argument. Can you come here?"
“Have you been drinking?”
"Yes, but only a little. Please, Tini, I need you with me."
My friend sighed audibly. "Okay, I'll be with you in half an hour. God, I don't know why I'm doing this."
“Because you love me,” I suggested.
"Probably. See you soon." There was a crackle on the line, and I listened to the busy tone before jumping into the shower and washing Fabian's drool and the scent of his aftershave off me.
I was just drying myself off when the door slammed loudly and Tini's heels clattered on the laminate flooring in the hallway.
“Pat?” Her voice echoed loudly through the apartment.
“I’m in the bathroom, just a minute,” I called back and quickly tied the large towel around my waist.
Then she stood in the doorway and looked at me closely.
"Nice lift. Tell me, do you need me, or do you need sex?"
"Both. One doesn't work without the other."
The stern expression around her eyes relaxed. "I certainly hope so. You wouldn't survive if you cheated on me with some other chick."
“It would never occur to me, you’re my only chick, I swear.”
“Well, thanks for the compliment,” she replied in a mock sour tone.
She moved towards me in a provocative pose and I turned my back to the sink, my hands resting on the edge.
“You don’t really deserve me,” she whispered.
“Probably not.”
Then she stood in front of me and opened the towel, while my hand slid under her blouse and cupped one of her firm mounds. Lust flickered in her blue eyes and she casually tossed her strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder.
“You probably need a jump start today.” Her gaze rested on my flaccid cock.
"It was a hard day, he'll be good in time."
She didn't want to wait and got on her knees. A moment later, her full lips slid over me, and I closed my eyes. But it wasn't right; it was just a greedy sucking, and my little one didn't move.
Fabian was more passionate and took care of my best part as if it were a precious treasure, with complete devotion. His lips were almost perfect, only his body was wrong. The thought of his 'treatment' actually brought my flaccid member to life.
"There you go, it works!" She grinned at me from below, looking triumphant as if she'd just won a competition. With that, she ruined everything again; the mood was ruined.
Growling in frustration, she immediately went back to work. The wild tugging and sucking was starting to hurt.
“Damn it, Tini, please tell me what you’re doing!” I grabbed her arms and pulled her up.
"I want to get what you promised. What do you think?"
“I didn’t promise you anything.”
"Then why did you call? I thought you wanted to celebrate reconciliation."
“What if I just need your company?”
Now she looked distinctly angry. "Wait a minute, buddy. You sent me away the other day, saying I was getting too close to you. You wanted to 'breathe easy.' And now you come up with this crap. I had more fun with my dildo last night than I've had with you all week. It would probably even talk to me if it could. Unlike you."
"You're really crazy. You want to talk? Then go ahead." Her mood was contagious.
She adjusted her blouse. "No, thanks, no need. Call me when you're back to your senses."
Completely perplexed, I stood at the sink until the apartment door slammed shut. I ran after it and ripped the door open.
“Then fuck your damn dildo!” My voice echoed loudly through the stairwell.
"Wanker," rang out from downstairs. The door across the hall opened, and old Mohrbeck, my neighbor, looked at me with narrowed eyes. Then I realized I was still naked, and her expression radiated furious indignation.
“Well, you old woman, never seen a dick?” My admittedly thoughtless statement was the last straw for her.
"This will have repercussions, Mr. Reder. Not like this. I'll file a formal complaint with the landlord." With these words, she disappeared into her apartment and slammed the door. I saw movement at her peephole and raised her middle finger. She gasped indignantly; I heard the labored rattle of her breathing. "Repercussions!" echoed a muffled voice.
I went into my apartment angrily and slammed the door shut.
I casually checked my phone and found a new text message. Jochen, my friend and colleague, was on his way to the gym and didn't feel like working out alone. At first, I wanted to cancel, but decided against it. The change of scenery was desperately needed.
Somewhat later ...
“It’s really great that you stopped by.”
"No problem, I needed to get out anyway. Tini's just causing trouble. First she complains that I'm keeping my distance, and then I need her company and she freaks out because I don't want to fuck her."
"Man, I can't hear it anymore. Why don't you just break up? You can't even keep the peace for five minutes unless you fuck your brains out."
“Because the last part is good?”
He dismissed the suggestion with a dismissive gesture. "That can't be it, can it?"
I stopped the exercise bike and wiped the sweat from my forehead. "If she weren't so bitchy, things would be easier for us."
Jochen raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, you're just as bitchy—pardon, macho—as she is."
“Do you want to train alone?”
"That's exactly what I mean. Absolutely incapable of criticism. A few months ago, you were still capable of understanding. What's happening to you?"
"I'm sorry, I'm still a little upset about what happened earlier. And I'm perfectly capable of taking criticism."
"All right. The main thing is that you believe in it. Change the subject, okay? I'll start on the rowing machine."
“Okay, then I’ll go to the butterfly, we can switch after that.”
I squatted down on the padded bench, leaned my back against it, and placed my forearms on the foam pads. Then I started. The 20 kilos weren't enough for me, so I changed the pin on the weights to a full 40. After three blocks, each with 30 pulls, I took a break.
My gaze wandered through the center and settled on one of the back corners, near the treadmills, where Fabian was currently exerting himself. He stared doggedly straight ahead, ignoring us.
“Well, are you getting tired yet?” Jochen grinned at me maliciously.
“3.6 tons is enough to start with.”
"You boastful mathematician. Okay, let's swap."
I continued to stare at the treadmills.
"Earth to Patrick, I said swap. What's going on?"
“Look, the faggot is here.”
His gaze followed mine and he shrugged.
"So what? Leave him alone, he won't hurt you."
'If you only knew,' I thought.
“You’re surely man enough not to feel threatened by him, right?”
"Threatened? Are you crazy? I just can't stand him." At that moment, Fabian looked in our direction, his skin draining of color. Even from a distance, I could see his hurt expression. I gave him a belligerent look, and he lost his rhythm. He stumbled awkwardly and almost fell off the belt.
A hand tugged on my chin, and Jochen stood facing me. "I'm glad you're amused by how he almost hurt himself. You go rowing, then you don't have to look at him."
"All right. Okay, device swap." I glanced into the corner again, and Fabian was gone.
A good hour later, we stood in the shower, exhausted. The hot water trickled soothingly over my body. As I reached for the shampoo, I noticed Jochen eyeing me. I responded with a new dose of irritation.
"What is?"
"You've been acting pretty strange lately. Even by your standards."
“And that’s why you’re staring like that?”
His mouth opened briefly, but he closed it again, shaking his head.
"Yes, of course. Like all the guys who look at you, I've become gay just by looking at you and I'm after you. Every man wants you. But maybe I was also looking at you because you make a face like you want to kill someone."
"I'm sorry I'm not running around laughing. Old Kramer is monitoring my every move at work, Tini's acting totally naughty, and that faggot's always hanging around here."
"Yeah, sure, the others again. That thing with Kramer is your fault. It's a fact that you're not keeping up with your stuff. I also understand Christine, if you're exactly the same with her as you have been the last few days. And this Fabian was here before you. I really don't understand what your problem with him is. I'm not into the stuff he does with his guys either, but I know my place very well and shouldn't feel threatened by that."
"And I don't? Just be careful what you say."
I was seething inside, but Jochen also seemed to be losing patience. He was wrong. After all, getting a blowjob from a guy doesn't make you gay; the boy was just good.
"Pat, I'm fed up with this shit. I don't care if you're straight, gay, or whatever. It's all about the human element, and you're really starting to get on my nerves." He paused briefly. "I'm going to go get another beer. If you keep your homophobic bullshit to yourself, you can come with me... boss."
“I’ll try.”
"You leave it. That's it. Or go home right now."
Of course, we went to the pub, and one beer turned into three. The alcohol loosened me up and relaxed me a bit.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I'm just a little stressed. It'll pass, and I'm pulling myself together for the sake of the little one."
I flinched inwardly at what had just slipped out. I hoped Jochen hadn't noticed.
“The little one? Has he made a career now?” Of course he had noticed.
"The faggot, I mean. It's probably the beer, I can't think straight anymore."
“Of course, that was obvious.” Jochen didn’t seem really convinced.
We remained silent for a while, finished our drinks and paid.
“See you tomorrow morning,” I said goodbye.
Jochen laughed. "No, thanks. I prefer to sleep in on Saturdays."
"Oh damn, that's right. See you Monday then."
Our paths parted in front of the door. Maybe my boyfriend was right and I should be a little nicer to Fabian. But wouldn't he misunderstand? Actually, everything was perfectly fine. I had my fun, and he got what he wanted. Then I remembered the situation in the bathroom, when Tini was kneeling in front of me, and I couldn't help thinking about him.
"Oh, bullshit," I muttered. This could only have happened because my girlfriend was so rude.
Soon after, I returned home and fell into a restless sleep. I dreamed of my almost perfect lips.

---

"...five kilometers of traffic jam, the rescue operations are almost complete. Otherwise, the roads are clear, drive carefully."
I fumbled for the clock radio; I must have forgotten to turn it off. My legs struggled out of bed. I padded into the kitchen and made myself some coffee. The hands on the wall clock formed an almost vertical line, one minute until six o'clock.
With my back to the countertop, I waited for my caffeine drink.
An hour later, in a small student apartment
Fabian tossed and turned restlessly in bed until his cell phone woke him from his sleep.
“Yes?” His voice still sounded completely sleepy.
"Hello, honey. Did I wake you up?"
“Yes, but it’s okay, Mom.”
"I just wanted to make sure you didn't miss your train. Grandma is looking forward to seeing you, after all, she hasn't seen you in two years. And... Thomas's parents are coming too; they're really looking forward to it, too."
Thomas... Fabian swallowed hard. Thomas was his best friend and his first great secret love. He had been dead for four years by now.
One evening, Fabian wanted to tell him about his feelings, so he drank to give himself courage. But then it became too much, and he fell asleep in the pub, completely wiped out by the alcohol. Thomas took him home and disappeared. The next morning, they had arranged to go jogging, but Fabian overslept in his intoxication, so Thomas, armed with an MP3 player, set off alone. As he crossed the deserted country road early that morning, he didn't hear the car approaching rapidly. The driver himself was completely exhausted and didn't notice the runner, as he later told the police.
The emergency doctor could only confirm the boy's death. At that moment, Fabian's world collapsed.
Afterward, he decided to take a big step and came out to school. His hiding and fear had taken a high toll on him. If he had been honest earlier, Thomas would not have had to die, he decided.
He was very lucky. The few bullies were kept in check by his friends.
Thomas's parents soon discovered their son's diary and discovered that he also had strong feelings for Fabian. This dealt Fabian another blow. They could have been happy and together now. But he had messed it up and made a fatal mistake.
Later, he met Patrick. He could have been Thomas's brother. The same dark blue shone from his eyes, the same black hair fell in strands around their faces, and they were both a good deal taller than him, who, at 1.79 meters, considered himself rather short. They also both had a similarly athletic and powerful physique. Okay, he was 27 years old, and Thomas, like Fabian, would be 22 now.
He thought he'd gotten a second chance after his relationship with Tommy. But as similar as they looked, their personalities were so different. How much Fabian missed the friendly hugs of those days! Patrick didn't even shake his hand, normally. But Fabian thought he was just insecure and hoped his crush would soon admit his feelings. Patrick had already given him tender glances during their many meetings.
"Fabian? What's wrong with you? Did you fall asleep?"
"No, I was just thinking about that time. I miss him."
"I know that, my dear. So please get ready, the train won't wait. Then you'll be with us soon."
He was torn. What if Patrick needed him?
"Mom... I can't. It's just not possible right now."
"You can't do this to us! Everything's already taken care of!"
He quickly thought of a suitable excuse. "My boss, Patrick... he needs a change to a program, it's supposed to be finished by Monday, and I can only do it here at the computer. It's really important." The lie made him feel guilty.
His mother pricked up her ears. "So, this Patrick again. He's probably very important to you too, isn't he?"
“He needs me...” This time it wasn’t even a lie.
“The others will be quite disappointed.”
"I'll make it up to you, honestly. It just went a little wrong. Mom, the company is really great, and if I do well, I might have a chance at a job when I finish college. This is a huge opportunity for me."
She sighed. "But why Heidelberg? You could find good work up here, too, and you'd be back with friends and us. Don't you miss the sea?"
She was right. But Patrick was here, not in the north.
"Please let's talk about this another time. I love you, Mom."
"I love you too. And best wishes from Dad."
They ended the conversation. Fabian buried himself in his books for the weekend, took his phone with him while jogging, and waited, as he had so often in the last six months, for a call from Patrick. In vain.
Monday
I had survived the weekend. I hadn't seen or heard anything from Tini, and I was tempted to contact Fabian. But instead, I took care of the neglected work.
Old Kramer seemed to have calmed down for the time being, or at least he praised the effort.
There was no sign of Fabian yet, but then I remembered that he had lectures on Mondays and wouldn't be arriving at the office until later. Perhaps I'd invite him over for the evening later.
Then there was a knock on my door and Jochen came in.
“Well, boss, are you okay?”
I grumbled dismissively. "I worked over the weekend and would actually prefer to be home right now. But I'm still expecting a few emails from clients."
"I see. And what's the latest from your girlfriend?"
"Radio silence. I'm supposed to call when I'm back to my senses."
“You actually seem quite normal, at least now.” A mocking grin graced Jochen’s face.
"That can change very quickly if you want to get on my nerves. I'm just not in the mood for her right now. Like you said, after five minutes there's stress again, and I don't want to sleep with her right now."
"This is obviously a serious problem. Are you sick?"
I raised my punch threateningly and assumed a throwing stance.
"All right, all right. It's none of my business." He obviously didn't take me seriously, and his grin was no less mocking.
"Do you have any idea when the PC-shusche will be released? I have a few changes I'd like to make to the program."
The grin disappeared from Jochen's face. "That little chick has a name too! Fabian called in sick for today. You got the email, too."
"Sorry, I've forgotten my good intention again. Hopefully, he'll be back to normal tomorrow." So much for my invitation for the evening.
"Your concern brings tears to my eyes. We have other programmers who can definitely handle this."
"Sure, but..." I couldn't think of anything to say. He was right, and I wasn't really interested in the program anyway. Of course, I couldn't tell Jochen that.
"Sure, you can't put the others down. Patrick, this is getting really pathetic."
"Wait! That's not it. He's one of the fastest workers and has had some good ideas. I can at least give him credit for that."
I could hardly believe that I was now arguing with Jochen about my excuse, or that I was putting up with his tone. But we'd been friends for ages, and from his perspective, his remarks seemed right.
"That's a whole new tone. But you don't need to tell me that, because most people here already know that the boy is good. And what he does in his bedroom after work shouldn't bother us. It doesn't belong here. It would be nice if you would finally take that to heart, too."
"Yes, sir." I received an annoyed look. "What were you actually doing here?"
Jochen waved an envelope in my face. "I almost forgot. Here it is, for you. The brewery has accepted the offer, so the campaign can begin."
"Yes! Finally. That's some good news."
"Indeed. And don't forget, Fabian was involved in this too."
"Oh great. Send him a bouquet of flowers, okay?"
Jochen silently threw the envelope on my desk and hurried out of my office. The slam of the door was probably heard throughout the entire wing.
I just didn't know why I had to keep bringing it up. Jochen wouldn't have believed a word about the little sex arrangement, even if there had been photographic evidence. But who would he hear it from? Fabian kept his mouth shut, and I definitely wouldn't say a word about it.
The next few hours were very busy. I sent some files to our contract printer, called a few recording studios about the radio spots, and took care of my mail. Fortunately, the week started off successfully.
In the meantime, I tried to reach Fabian, but no one answered. Half an hour before closing time, I tried again and he answered. But he didn't answer.
“Fabian? Can you hear me?”
Apart from a quiet sob, nothing could be heard. For some reason, I didn't like that, so I opened his personnel file to find the address. He had written it down for me once, but the note disappeared into the trash.
I had just finished when Jochen came back to my office.
"Once you've calmed down, we can go to the gym. I got a break today."
“Maybe later, I still have something to do.”
He happened to look at the monitor and saw the file before I could click it away.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"I'll visit him and see how he's doing. You weren't entirely wrong."
“Should I come with you?” Jochen obviously didn’t trust me.
"Don't worry, I can handle this without picking on him. I really should apologize to him." 'And maybe have some fun,' I added in my mind.
Jochen still didn't seem convinced.
"Look, yes, he's a great worker, creative, and obviously doesn't have a problem with anyone else. The thing about the bouquet of flowers was meant to be cynical, but overall, you're right. He seems to care about my opinion."
"And I have no idea why. If I were him, I wouldn't look at you with my ass."
A sharp retort was on the tip of my tongue, but Jochen sensed this and intervened.
"That was the wrong wording, don't say anything about his ass now."
"Okay. I'll meet later, I won't be long."
Jochen said goodbye and left. I also grabbed the car keys and drove to Fabian's address. I knew the area well from my own student days.
After a fifteen-minute drive, I parked the car in front of the old apartment building. I looked for his name on the huge sign and soon found it, including the floor and apartment number. The front door was open, and I took the elevator straight to the sixth floor. Shortly after, I found his apartment and rang the bell.
Nobody moved and I knocked again.
“Yes?” I heard his faint voice only faintly through the door.
“It’s me, Patrick.”
"I... I'm sorry, I can't today."
Had he just rejected me? I was surprised.
“Let me in and then we’ll see,” I demanded.
A chain slid slowly through a rail, and then he slowly opened the door. He looked at me with red eyes and walked lazily toward the small living room.
"Please, sit down. I'll be with you in a minute. Would you like something to drink first?"
I was shocked. He had dark circles under his red, sore eyes, he was pale, and his posture resembled that of an old man. I didn't waste a thought on our little game.
"Something to drink would be great," I replied. "We'd better skip the other stuff."
He stared at me blankly for a moment and then crept into the kitchen. He soon returned with two glasses of water, placed them on the table, and immediately started working on my pants.
My hand closed around his and stopped him.
“I’m serious, stop it.”
"Am I not good enough for you anymore?" Tears streamed down his face, and a wave of emotions washed over me. Anger at how he let himself go, how completely effeminate, and then pity. Suddenly, I wanted to protect him.
"That's not it. But look at yourself, look in the mirror. I came here with that intention, too, but it's not working. I can't do it."
He continued to kneel in front of me, crying harder and harder. His body was shaking, and I was completely overwhelmed by the situation. 'What would my father do now?' I asked myself. Of course, he would have slapped him in the face and said something like, 'Pull yourself together.'
But this idea didn't work for me at all.
"So, Fabian... please stop it." His reaction was the exact opposite of my request. He sobbed even louder. His hand lay motionless, clutching my waistband, and mine was still on his. Otherwise, he avoided any further physical contact, just as I always demanded.
"Shit, what am I supposed to do?" My voice was barely a whisper, but somehow he heard it and looked into my eyes. He pulled his hand back, and there was no more contact.
I wanted to get up and leave, but my legs refused to obey me. I just sat there and stared at the wreck.
"Am I that disgusting to you? I heard you on Friday while we were training. Why are you hurting me like this? Why do you keep bringing me back?" His eyes stared at the floor.
"I don't know. I like the way you do it." I couldn't answer the first question. "Why don't you just say no?"
He was silent for a moment. "I don't know if you'd understand. If you know what it's like to suddenly lose everything important in your life."
Fabian was right, I'd never heard of anything like that. He didn't say another word about it. Obviously, he didn't want to tell me his story, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear it.
"Sit down, please." My hand tapped the sofa invitingly, and he looked at me incredulously. "I mean it, sit next to me."
He stood up unsteadily, and I held out my hand, which he used to pull himself up. Then he slowly slid onto the seat. My arm instinctively wrapped around his shoulders and I pulled him closer to me. This surprised me a little.
He pressed himself close to me, and I felt the warm, soft skin of his cheek against my neck. I tensed a little, but didn't push him away, which would have been my first instinct.
"I just hope you'll give me a chance, someday. I hope so every day. That's why I don't say no."
"But why should there be hope? You're a guy and I..."
"And you're not gay, I know. You make that very clear to me time and time again. But why do you let me satisfy you? Your girlfriend does it too. It was obvious back then."
"Because they..." Good question. "I don't want to talk about it."
By now my neck was aching from tension and Fabian seemed to guess my thoughts.
"Relax a little, I won't do anything either. This is enough for me, it's very nice being with you. And you smell good." He sighed.
I also found the smell of his hair quite pleasant. For the first time, I noticed his own scent, which was usually masked by the sweet-and-tart aftershave.
I slowly let my shoulders drop and relaxed a little. The situation was beginning to excite me, but then I heard only quiet, steady breathing. Fabian had fallen asleep.
I wriggled out from under him and let him slide into a lying position, pulled my arm out from under his shoulder, and suddenly my face was very close to his. My lips hovered over his cheek.
I couldn't do it and stood up. Jochen was already waiting.

---

My colleague put the dumbbell back in its holder. "And how was it?"
“We survived.”
“I actually wanted to know how he was doing.”
"Better, I think. Maybe he'll be back at work tomorrow."
"Just don't be too informative. Did you at least behave yourself?"
I got up from the warm-up mat and stretched. "Yes, I behaved myself. You'd be surprised how nice I can be."
"Indeed. Especially when it comes to him."
"You'd think I was a monster. He's actually okay, just definitely too soft."
"No comment, tough guy." He added a few more weights to the barbell. "Then show us how tough you really are."
A few hours later
Fabian woke up somewhat disoriented, but despite the darkness, he immediately recognized his living room. He remembered falling asleep in Patrick's arms and briefly waking up when Patrick gently laid him on the couch. He felt as if he had briefly felt the older man's breath on his face.
A new sense of hope and comforting warmth spread through him. He had never treated him so well. And he was grateful that Patrick hadn't insisted on his usual 'fun'. The hug reminded the student of Thomas, who had always given him the same feeling of security.
Fabian went to his bedroom and slept for a few more hours, better than he had in a long time.
On Tuesday, he had no lectures and was firmly scheduled at work... and overslept by a good hour. He quickly showered, grabbed some fresh clothes from the closet, and hopped on his bike.
“Are you feeling better?” Old Kramer intercepted him at the reception.
"Thanks, yes. I'm just a little tired and unfortunately overslept."
"It's okay, that rarely happens with you. And congratulations, you too have contributed to the success of the brewery campaign."
"Really? That's good news."
“Keep it up.” Kramer patted Fabian on the shoulder in recognition and marched off.
Shortly afterward, Patrick came out of the copy room and looked at Fabian with a bad mood before Fabian retreated to his office. He was completely lost. They met a few more times until lunch, but Patrick didn't even look at him.
The student's good mood was blown away.
A few hours earlier
I entered the office feeling buoyant; even the slight muscle soreness couldn't dampen my spirits. The previous evening's visit had been the right thing to do, I was now fully aware of that.
The emails were quickly dealt with, and I got a coffee in the cafeteria, where Jochen and I exchanged a few words. He made fun of my sore muscles for stubbornly accepting his challenges to lift more weight.
I was just sitting back in my seat when my phone rang.
“Kramer and Partners, Patrick Reder.” My voice exuded good cheer.
"It's nice that you're so happy. Let's see how you react."
“Tini, what’s up?”
"Okay, quick and painless then. Congratulations, Dad."
I dropped the receiver in shock. I picked it up again with trembling fingers.
"Don't kid me."
“I’m in my second month.”
"That can't be true. You're on the pill!" I was shocked, but not in a positive way.
"Well, my dear, maybe I took them too late, I don't know. Anyway, it happened."
"That's not possible... but the second month is good, very good. It's best to make an appointment for the abortion right away."
"Forget it. Patrick, I'm almost thirty, and I wanted a child with you someday. So it's happening now. We'd finally have our own little family. It would be good for our relationship."
"That's completely out of the question. Christine, I don't even know if it makes sense for us to be together anymore. We're always arguing. What do we want with a child?"
"You're a self-centered asshole. Of course things aren't going well right now, but at least I know I want you!"
“Let’s postpone the subject. We’ll talk about it tonight, or one of these days.”
"Yeah, sure, postpone it or keep quiet. You're so much like your father. If you ignore something, it doesn't exist, and your word is law, right? But this isn't just about the two of us."
"Yes, that's exactly the point. I don't want a child and you don't care. You don't give a damn what I want."
"Asshole!" She yelled that last word so loudly it hurt my ears. Then the line went dead.
Angrily, I grabbed some documents and ran to the copy room. The machine pulled in page after page, accompanied by a monotonous whirring. The copies slid into the sorting trays, and the process was complete. On the way to the office, I almost ran into Kramer.
And then I saw Fabian at the reception desk, spotting me and beaming at me. I gave him an irritated look and locked my door without a word.
We met a few more times throughout the morning, but I wasn't able to look at him.
The whole day felt like a curse. The pregnancy thing had completely thrown me off track. Should I break up with him anyway? I arranged to meet him at my parents' house for dinner that evening.
To make matters worse, my PC broke down, and I went to the IT department. Fabian was typing a few lines into his computer, and Mario, the administrator, was tinkering with a printer.
"Schw... Fabian, could you come here please? I have a problem with my PC."
Of course, he noticed that my usual 'faggot' had almost slipped from my lips. Accordingly, despite the improvement, the sad expression crept back into his eyes.
Without a word, he followed me into the office.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I really meant it.
"Why, everything's back to normal. Yesterday, that was an accident." The bitterness in his voice hurt me.
"No, it wasn't. I just want to apologize. The day was shitty."
“And then you take it out on me, please, just don’t.”
"Now listen to me. I know I did something wrong. Today my girlfriend called and told me I'm going to be a father. I don't want this child, and she doesn't want an abortion. We've always used contraception; it shouldn't be happening."
"Well, congratulations." His eyes glistened with moisture, and he quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Why are you telling me this? I already know you're sleeping together, and it hurts enough as it is. She's getting what I want. I'll settle for what you're offering me, just to have at least some of my desires fulfilled."
He rubbed his face again as he clicked through the program's menus, looking for the error.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. Last night was wonderful for me. And it didn't kill you either. Okay, I may never get what I want most, maybe, but I felt truly safe and not like your toy."
“I didn’t find it unpleasant either.”
“With you, even compliments can sound like an insult.”
"Fabian, I... it was nice, somehow. But it's wrong."
“And the other one is correct then?”
I didn't know the answer to that.
"If you let it happen and don't have to commit to any feeling, then it's okay. As soon as you have to give something, then it's wrong again. Or am I not seeing this correctly?"
"Should we stop?" I felt really bad right now. Until now, I'd always thought he was getting exactly what he wanted. Gay guys just like to give each other a blowjob, that's all it takes.
"Is that your only thought about it? I've often wished you'd just leave me alone." His face expressed sad bitterness. "I just can't get away from you."
“Fabian, why do you love me, despite everything?”
He sighed. "Your PC is running again. May I go?"
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
As he tried to pass me, I grabbed his arm, pulled him toward me, and hugged him. His arms hung limply at his sides, and he didn't reciprocate.
"Please don't do this if you're not serious. Let's leave it as it is. Then at least I'll know where I stand." His voice lacked any expression, and I let him go again.
“Maybe you’re right.” I wasn’t sure at all at the moment.
"Good." He disappeared, head bowed. Why did I suddenly care about his feelings? Everything changed and became more complicated. Or had it always been this complicated and I'd just made it easy for myself?
When I arrived at my parents' house later, my mood hadn't exactly improved. Antonia, the maid, opened the door and let me in. My mother was asleep on the couch, an empty cognac glass on the table.
My father sat at the end of the dining room table, puffing on his pipe. The heavy scent of his tobacco hung in the air.
“Hello, Father.” I greeted him with a nod as usual and sat down at the other headboard.
"Hello Patrick. What a rare honor." His gaze slid past me, directly onto Antonia, who was stretching her curvy body to reach the plates on the top shelf of the cupboard. She was my age, and it was an open secret that she often 'slept over' at my father's.
"What's wrong with you? You look like you've been through seven days of rain." Now his eyes were searching me.
“Christine is pregnant.” He hated it when people kept beating around the bush.
"That's all I need. I've always been against this grumpy guy."
“It could have happened to anyone else.”
"But it isn't. I hope you talked to her about the abortion." That clearly wasn't meant as a question. No hint of grandpa joy; that would be too emotional.
"Of course. She doesn't want to."
He slammed his fist on the table. "What kind of man are you? She doesn't want to? Who cares?"
“Father, she’s just not like Mom.”
“That’s exactly your problem.”
He tapped out the pipe and filled it with fresh weed. The flame of his match flickered toward the head as the old man pulled on the mouthpiece.
“Take care of it.” This was a clear order and I nodded dutifully.
"There's something else going on. A colleague at the company is in love with me...." I wasn't quite sure why I was bringing up this topic. Perhaps it was the longing for closeness and understanding that held me firmly in its clutches. My emotional world was in ruins. But my father, as always, proved to be the wrong person to talk to about such things. I should have known better.
"Nowhere is one safe from these perverts. But you'll certainly put his nonsense out of him, as befits a man." Again, the commanding tone. If it were up to him, I'd probably have to whip Fabian until he voluntarily throws himself on a woman or puts an end to 'his misery.'
"I'll take care of it."
Antonia relieved me of the conversation by placing the steaming plates of roast and potatoes in front of us and bringing me a beer. My father contented himself with his expensive whiskey.
I no longer knew why I wanted to come here. I couldn't expect any sensible advice from my parents. I would have known that my father was in favor of a separation. I was almost surprised I was even born. But Mom's pregnancy was a social decision.
If Tini were a good woman without ambitions, he would have handed me a cigar and planned my child's future.
But I didn't want to be a father. Not like him, but could I do things differently? I only knew this life.
I had no appetite at all and choked down half the contents of my plate until I pushed it aside. Antonia cleared it away immediately.
“Don’t you like it?”
"Yes, Father. But I wasn't very hungry."
I watched him wordlessly shove bite after bite into his mouth, chewing carefully and occasionally washing it down with a sip of whiskey. His maid kept refilling the glass. 'How well he raised her,' I thought with a touch of cynicism.
I could only be grateful that I wasn't born a girl.
"Well, I think you still have some things to take care of. Good luck with that." He lit his pipe again, and with that, my presence was no longer welcome.
"Of course. Have a nice evening."
I quickly left the house, got into the car, and screamed out my frustration. "You narrow-minded old man. Stupid bully!"
Since my mood couldn't sink any further, I took my phone and typed in Tini's number.
When she answered, I didn't wait for her message and jumped in. "We should meet right away; we have something to discuss."
"Patrick?" The irritated voice on the phone didn't belong to my soon-to-be ex; it was Fabian. I stared at the screen and was startled. Subconsciously, I had dialed his number.
"Oh, Fabian... this is really awkward. I actually wanted to call Tini." I was expecting to hurt him again. But after all our experiences together, I wanted to avoid that. So I adopted a conciliatory tone.
"I understand. Have fun."
The sound of his voice told me I'd been right, and I was relieved I hadn't started ranting. Still, I immediately felt guilty and didn't want him to take it the wrong way.
"Fabian, wait, don't hang up. I don't want to torture you. It's not about sex with her either. I want to meet her to break up." Before he could get his hopes up again, I added, "It has nothing to do with you."
"Why not? As if you'd break up with her for a guy like me."
His cynical tone didn't come across as entirely convincing. My contradictory behavior must have changed something in him. It was obvious that he had started to fight, and he was becoming increasingly brave, but also more frustrated by the constant failures. One thing became clear to me, though: he no longer wanted to put up with everything without resistance.
"Please stop this. I want to accommodate you as much as possible. It's just not that easy. You've caused quite a mess in my head, and I don't know how to proceed. This hasn't just been happening since yesterday. Since Christmas, everything has been slipping away from me, I'm losing control of my life. And it's all because of our 'arrangement.'"
“Have you ever tried to voluntarily lose control, to give it up?”
“No,” I answered truthfully.
“Have you ever tried to live?”
“What do you think I’m doing here?”
"You're chasing some kind of compulsions. But when were you truly happy, when did you truly live? Others who love life are torn from this world. And you throw everything away. All I see in you is anger and desolation." His voice sounded distinctly tearful again. And somewhere, deep inside me, there was a part that agreed with him.
"Fabian, will you please come over? I'm almost home."
"If you want... I'm on my way."
"Thanks, see you soon." I ended the call and pulled into my parking space. An envelope was sticking out of the mailbox. I recognized the sender; it was the landlord, and I had a terrible feeling. This was the promised repercussions: a warning and the threat of prosecution if I behaved inappropriately or offensively toward a tenant again.
I calmed my nerves with a simple single malt and sat down on the couch.
Soon after, the doorbell rang, breaking the silence for a moment. I dragged myself to the opener, left the door ajar, and went back to the couch. Fabian tiptoed in and stood in front of me, undecided.
“Would you like it right here?”
The coldness in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, but the struggle to maintain composure was evident on his face. I was almost certain he knew the impact of his words and that he intended to sting me painfully.
“You must hate me, right?”
“It would probably be easier.” His words hurt me, even though I had expected that answer.
"But that's not why I asked you here." I struggled to suppress the painful lump in my throat. The evening with my father had taken a bigger toll on me.
"Why? I thought we agreed on that today."
I shook my head. "No, your wording was a little different, please listen to me first. You said some things on the phone that made me think, and you were right on some points." I paused for a moment, but he didn't say a word. "What did you mean when you said 'ripped from life'?"
He paled a little. "It just slipped out. I don't want to talk about it."
“I understand why you don’t trust me.”
"That's not it. At least not only that."
He stood in front of me with his arms crossed, looking at me uncertainly. Suddenly, I realized my bad manners. "Please, sit down. Would you like a glass too?" I pointed to the malt. Fabian nodded shyly and sat down next to me, some distance away.
He picked up the glass and carefully sipped the drink. Then he grimaced and coughed violently. I started laughing heartily.
"Well, thank you very much, go ahead and laugh at me." And, a little more gently, he added, "I've seen you laugh for the first time."
“Sorry,” I replied, chuckling, “but you looked too funny.”
"No, it's okay. That's what I meant earlier. You gave up control and let your feelings run wild."
“Actually, you’re too good to me.”
“I guess that makes up for it.” His sad look didn’t arouse anger in me, as it usually did.
"My behavior was anything but fair," I admitted contritely. "Tini called me a 'self-centered asshole.' And she's probably right."
Fabian didn’t object.
I moved a little closer to him, and he backed away again. "Please don't play with me. I can't take it anymore."
"I don't. But I don't know where this is all going."
“And what do you expect from me?” Fabian now moved a few centimeters towards me.
"First of all... I don't have the right to expect anything from you, but I'd like to be your friend, a fresh start for us. Honestly, I can't stand being served by you anymore. Not since recently. I didn't realize what I was doing to you, I felt like the patron doing you another favor. But I should have known better. I can be quite ignorant."
His expression changed into one of joyful astonishment.
"My father showed me otherwise. Women must obey, and those disgusting perverts don't need anything more than a cock. He hates gays and despises women. Actually, he hates all people."
“Oh man, what a person.”
"You can say that out loud. And I haven't been much different so far." I sighed resignedly.
"But you can break out. You don't have to be like this."
"Oh Fabian, I've been like this my whole life. It's not that easy. Even this conversation... I'd like to take it back right now."
“But you can’t push people away your whole life, it’s bound to destroy you.”
"You get used to it." I felt his arm wrap around me and fought my usual reflex. Most of me wanted to jump up and yell at him. But then the arm disappeared again. As so often lately, I felt guilty.
“Should I go?”
“It would probably be more sensible, but no, not for me.”
Fabian yawned quietly. "Okay."
“Are you very tired?” I looked at the clock; it was almost midnight.
“It’s okay.” He was a bad liar.
I couldn't believe my next words. "Well, this might be a bit strange, but you're welcome to stay here. I'm pretty tired too, but I'd hate to be alone. If you can control your fingers, you can come with me."
“You’re kidding me.” He exuded understandable suspicion.
"I'm afraid not. Say yes or don't, but make up your mind before I change my mind again. Please."
“I’ve had practice in self-control.” It sounded accusatory, but I knew he didn’t mean it that way.
I picked out a toothbrush for him and sent him to the bathroom. Afterward, I freshened up myself, and then the next hurdle came. We stood rather tensely in front of my bed. The room was still quite warm from the day.
"Do you have a shirt for tonight? My clothes are fresh out of the closet, I could wear them tomorrow."
I cleared my throat. "Um, yeah, I do. But it's pretty warm. So... I don't mind if you just leave it out. I'd rather not have it either."
“Oh God, I’m going to die, I’m sure I am.” He became visibly nervous.
I went first, placing my shirt and jeans on the laundry basket and crawling under the covers. His eyes followed me silently.
“Come on, I don’t bite.”
"Yes, unfortunately," he grumbled quietly. He awkwardly pulled his shirt over his head, then his pants. I wasn't sure, but the bulge in his light shorts seemed to be growing. While it was a bit uncomfortable, I also took a closer look at his body. He was in really good shape. He noticed my glances and shyly held his hands over his crotch.
“Sorry, but I really can’t control that.”
"No problem, I think. After all... well, you already know mine pretty well."
The little one nodded and crawled under the covers as well. He lay on his back, stiff as a board, staring at the ceiling. Somehow, that made me laugh again.
"Okay, so here's the thing: as you already noted, the thing in your apartment didn't kill me. That might be okay."
“But I’m barely wearing anything.”
“This affects both of us.”
“Yes, but you would feel me on your skin.”
“Fabian, just come closer.”
He heaved himself back up and crawled closer to my side. I extended my arm a little so he could rest his head on it.
"It's not that bad," I said, mostly to myself. His skin lay softly against mine. Almost softer than Tini's. And warmer, too.
Fabian settled himself near my shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered softly, and suddenly I felt his lips on my cheek as he gave me a delicate, innocent kiss.
I fumbled for the lamp and turned it off. My eyes grew heavier surprisingly quickly, and I was just about to fall asleep when suddenly the bedroom door slammed against the wall and the overhead light flashed on.
"I'm not going to put up with this anymore! We're talking now! I have a damn right... What's going on here?"
Fabian flinched and pressed himself against me in shock, while Tini glared at us angrily.
"It's definitely not what it looks like. Fabian, maybe you should go now."
"Fabian? Fabian, that one? You didn't sound like you were best friends the other day. I can't believe it! The father of my child in bed with a faggot."
"That's enough now! We're friends, nothing more. And neither of us is feeling very special right now." I turned to Fabian, who was still clinging to me, completely terrified. "Please go, it would be better."
Tini grabbed his clothes and threw them at him. "Get out of here and keep your hands off my friend!"
Damn, I couldn't even break up with her now, she would immediately jump to the wrong conclusions.
"He didn't touch me at all. At least not in the way you think." I stood up and pulled the fury out of the bedroom. "Go ahead and get dressed, I'll take care of her."
His face clearly indicated that he couldn't understand anything anymore. I made a subtle 'I'll call you' gesture, simulating a receiver with my thumb and little finger. Fabian nodded apathetically, and I left him alone for the time being.
"Nothing happened at all. As you can see, we weren't naked."
Christine paced back and forth, giving Fabian a nasty look as he slipped past us without a word. Otherwise, she said nothing.
"Not naked, great. Do you have any idea what that looked like?"
"At least not as it was. Listen, we both needed some company."
“You could have called me.”
"Yes, of course. And what would have happened? We would have argued again, just like now."
She placed her hand on my chest. "We could have done something else."
"Sorry, but that's exactly what I'm not in the mood for right now. I'm not a machine that can just block everything out. Too much is going wrong right now."
“And who is to blame for that?”
"Sure, it's all my fault, of course. Be honest, things haven't been going well between us for a long time."
“Are you trying to tell me something specific?” Her voice took on a lurking tone.
“We should not see each other for a while and thoroughly rethink our relationship.”
"I understand. Whatever you want. I wish you a horrible night. And one more thing: I'm going to have the baby. I don't care what you say. See you then."
I didn't feel like saying anything back, so I let her go. As she wished, my night turned horrible, and I hoped she really wasn't jumping to the wrong conclusion.

---

Fabian was on cloud nine. The limits had been drawn, but he was fine with them. It was far more than he had expected from Patrick. The story about his father explained a lot more. 'What a cruel and cold man,' he thought.
And now he lay here, snuggled up close to his crush, his head resting on his shoulder, and Patrick's voice had taken on a tender tone. An overwhelming desire overcame him, and he pressed a gentle kiss on the dark-haired man's cheek.
But then, just minutes after the lights went out, a nightmare unfolded around him. Patrick's girlfriend screamed like a madman, and Fabian suddenly felt miserable. Had he plunged his friend's life into even deeper chaos?
The business graduate threw him out of his apartment, as he had done so many times before. His voice was gentle, but his eyes held an unmistakable determination. At least he was able to leave the apartment unmolested.
He just hoped that this wasn't the last evening like this, that his dreams would be snatched away from him again.
Because of all the brooding, he suddenly found himself standing in front of his house and soon fell into a restless sleep.

Good morning, dear worries
The alarm clock ended the horror of that night. In my dream, my father repeatedly hit me, while Tini watched, laughing and drinking one cognac after another. Even worse was the sight of Fabian lying motionless on the floor next to me, covered in bleeding wounds.
I barely made it to the bathroom and threw up. Would she tell my father about this? Would she even benefit from it? It wouldn't change anything about her 'relationship' with him.
And why did that even bother me? I wasn't dependent on my father; I stood on my own two feet in life. He was never a support to me, had nothing against me. Another gush of stomach acid poured into the white ceramic bowl. I flushed the toilet and brushed my teeth. As I did so, I looked at the second toothbrush Fabian had used yesterday. Throwing him out, the only person who could always forgive me for all my mistakes, hurt more than I expected. I didn't even want to imagine what I had done to him with my behavior.
But now I had to limit the damage first and called Tini.
“What do you want?” she barked into the phone.
"I'm sorry. Things didn't have to go this way yesterday."
"An apology from you? Anyway, it's a little late."
"But understand me, so much is different between us. We've been close to the edge for too long."
She huffed angrily. "You've changed, not me. And I can't handle it anymore either. But I expect you to take care of the child."
“Tini, I... please don’t tell my father about yesterday.”
She laughed darkly. "You're a pathetic coward. Maybe I won't, that's entirely up to you."
“Are you trying to blackmail me?” I was stunned.
“I just want you to think about certain priorities.” The new coldness in her voice made me shiver.
“I don’t believe that.”
"You only have yourself to blame. I truly loved you. And now I'm holding you by the balls, Patrick Reder."
She hung up.
A good hour later, I was sitting exhausted in my office, thinking about my life, which was slowly turning into a shambles. And all this since Fabian.
As if on cue, there was a timid knock at the door and Fabian entered.
"What do you want?" My voice sounded harsher than I intended, and the poor man jumped in shock. Without a word, he turned around and closed the door behind him.
"Oh damn..." I jumped up and ran after him. "I'm sorry, please come over here."
He hesitantly followed me into my realm and I told him everything, from the dream to the phone call.
“And what do you want to do now?” He perched on the edge of the desk and looked at me pityingly.
"I don't know, damn it. I shouldn't care if she talks to him about it. Besides, nothing's happened between us. But he doesn't know that. The mere fact that someone like you was in my bed is enough to make him freak out."
“Someone like me...”
I reached for his hand. "Forgive me, I didn't mean it in a bad way."
"Fine. But why don't you care what he says?"
"I have no idea. I don't know what he'll do then either. He was never particularly squeamish when it came to 'important, educational measures.' Ever since I learned how much a riding crop can hurt, I've voluntarily given up equestrian sports."
"Oh my God. And when did he do something like that?"
"For serious offenses. Backtalk, for example. But it was also the reason why I started strength training. With the harder muscles, the pain wasn't quite as severe."
“I didn’t know that.”
"Oh, Fabian, how could I? I've never even told Tini about this. And now we have to see what happens next. It's not safe for us at my place right now. I'm sorry, but we can't see each other for a while."
He jumped up. "I have an apartment too. She doesn't know where I live."
"Fabian, I know that. But she'll find out if she has to. What will happen if she doesn't find me at all? She'll search, draw conclusions."
“I understand, you want to give in to her.”
"Hell no, I want to protect both of us."
"Okay. Patrick, I still have some things to do. Maybe I'll see you at the studio tonight, if we can manage it somehow."
"Maybe. Please believe me, I'm sorry."
He nodded slightly and disappeared back into his department. We didn't see each other for a few hours; he avoided me. And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, my cell phone rang.
“Christine, what do you want?”
“Hellooooo sweetie!” She slurred a little.
“Your child seems very important to you when you drink.”
"Oh, just a little bit. But why am I calling? You're coming to my place tonight."
My throat tightened. "I can't."
“Priorities!” She emphasized the word in a strange sing-song voice.
“Okay... I’ll come at six.”
"Perrrrperfect, at six o'clock." She imitated Halle Berry's cat-like purr from the movie 'Catwoman' and giggled.
Fabian still didn't come into my sight and after work I went to the IT department.
“Mario, where is Fabian?”
"He disappeared an hour ago, for the afternoon lecture. It is Wednesday, after all."
"Oh, I forgot. Have a nice evening."
“You too, see you tomorrow.”
Without further ado, I went to the car and drove to Christine's so I could finally get it over with.
She was already waiting for me and opened the door. The moment I saw her, it was immediately clear what she wanted from me. She was wearing a black silk dressing gown and a semi-transparent black negligee underneath. Her long nylon stockings ended in a wide band on the upper third of her thighs, held up only by the garter belts. Once, this sight would have driven me mad with desire, but now I wanted to vomit.
She grabbed my tie, pulled me through the apartment into the living room, and roughly pushed me onto the couch. Then she squatted with her legs wide open over my lap and pressed her ample, perky breasts into my face.
"I can't do this. It doesn't work like this." I pulled my nose out of my cleavage to avoid suffocating it.
"Why, don't you like my pussy anymore?" She laughed maliciously and stood up. She rustled open a cardboard box on the TV cabinet and tossed me a silver pill blister pack. Inside were blue, diamond-shaped pills.
"Then just take that, the Viagra will help. And if you need any other stimulation, I went to the video store for you. What movie would you like to see? Let's see. 'Shaved Pussy in the Nurses' Home' or 'Butt Eaters in the Boys' Boarding School'. What would you like?" She approached me, swaying her hips. "Or you can prove to me, without all this, that you're still a man."
I threw the pills on the floor. "Can I take a quick shower? It's been a long day."
"Sure. But take your clothes off here, I don't want to miss this part."
I loosened my tie and took off my shirt. The situation was uncomfortable. Her eyes greedily followed my every move as I dropped my shoes, socks, jeans, and finally my shorts.
"You may be a characterless bum, but you're incredibly good-looking."
On the humiliation scale of zero to one hundred, I'd reached -10. But it didn't matter; I'd see this through; maybe then at least Fabian would be out of the firing line.
The shower didn't help. This dreadful feeling clung to me like tar. Tini was already stretched out on the bed, waiting for me; she'd placed my clothes neatly on the arm of the sofa.
“We can start then.”
"Oh, you're being romantic again today. Kiss me, please."
I dropped my towel and lay down next to her. With my eyes closed, I approached her lips, curled into a triumphant grin.
Her tongue greedily pushed into my mouth, and I focused on the image of Fabian. I wondered how he would kiss me? He was so gentle and tender in everything he did. Her demanding hands glided over my back. I wondered what his warm fingers would feel like.
It worked, my little friend came to life. 'Just keep your eyes closed,' I thought to myself. His gentle smile floated before me.
Tini and I slept together. What I didn't notice was that she had my cell phone ready under her pillow. She unerringly dialed Fabian's number from the contact list and placed the phone on the nightstand. Afterward, the sound of her pleasurable screams and my soft moans filled the room. Fabian's image before me became more and more vivid, and I was approaching climax. With a gasped 'I love you,' I released myself. At that moment, the screen of my cell phone went dark; Fabian had hung up.
"That realization comes a little too late." She grinned at me smugly. "But that was actually quite a decent number today. It's a shame you haven't tried as hard otherwise."
The dream of Fabian burst like a soap bubble, revealing reality. And reality lay before me in the form of a reddish-blonde devil. She casually glanced to the side, and I noticed my phone. I hastily grabbed it and, on a whim, clicked through the call log. The last call was Fabian, a short time ago, and long enough.
"What have you done?"
"Nothing, really, why? You're just friends, so what does it matter if he knows who you really belong to. And that, my dear, he's probably already noticed."
I jumped out of bed and ran to my clothes, I had to get out of here.
“Who gave you permission to leave?” She pressed herself naked against the doorframe, clearly enjoying her triumph.
"What else do you want from me? A loving cuddle?"
"No, sweetie. I want to savor your obvious disgust with yourself. You still regret breaking my heart."
My eyes moistened, tears pooled and burned their way down. I hadn't cried in twenty years, and it shook me.
"Okay, I think that's enough for today. You can go." She turned around and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving me crying in the living room. Fabian would hate me.

---