“Where’s Ethan?” asked a girl in English class, “He hasn’t been here in a while.”

The English professor Dr. Lindsey Heinsworth lifted her face from the pages of ‘The Turn of the Screw’ and cleared her throat. She produced a lengthy sigh, blinked three times in a row, cleared her throat again, licked her glossy rouge lips, cleared her throat once more before replying, “He is currently grading the essays that you guys handed in last Thursday.”

“He’s grading them?” asked a guy, “I thought you were?”

Heinsworth nodded, “He is making careful, scrupulous comments and criticism, so I believe it is best for him to stay in the office as I know some of you…” She shot a cold glance at Woody, “…may be distracting him. I think you should be grateful that he is taking so much time and effort to give you feedback. It will be that much less work for you on your rewrite. But no worries, you will get your rough drafts back this Thursday. And the final draft…which I will personally grade…will be due next Tuesday.”

“Oh, okay,” said a girl, “So while you’re grading our essays, will he come back to discuss the readings with us? Cause, last time, he did a really great job.”
Heinsworth simply said, “We will see” and returned her face to the book.

Woody Anderson knew the real reason why Ethan White was not in class. Ethan had told the conservative English teacher about their relationship. Not only was Heinsworth beautiful, she was very smart and manipulative. She knew it was illegal for her to fire Ethan because of his lifestyle choice, so she had planned another way to dismiss him. Since she saw no fault in Ethan’s leadership in discussions, she would have to find a fault in his grading of papers. Heinsworth learned of Ethan’s sexual orientation on Monday and assigned the essay on Tuesday, giving the students only two days to write the four page essay. This was bound to produce loads of bad first drafts which Ethan would have to deal with. Once the students got back their papers, they would only have one weekend to rewrite it…and of course, how many students will use their weekends to write a paper. So when Heinsworth grades the final paper and sees that it was as bad as the rough draft, she would then have reasons to fire Ethan due to incompetence in critiquing essays. This speculation, of course, was all in Woody Anderson’s mind, and may or may not be completely true to fact.

“What a bitch; what a fucking hot bitch, she is,” Woody said as he slipped into his pajamas and hopped onto the queen-sized bed, “Come on, Ethan. Quit grading and come here. I need your warm body next to me, or I can’t fall asleep.”

“I’m on the last page of Chelsi’s paper,” said Ethan with a little snort, “And let’s just say I’m running out of red ink.”
“Hey, do you have my paper?”
“No, Heinsworth is grading that one herself.”

“Again, what a bitch, what a fucking hot bitch, she is.” Woody exclaimed.
“I’m sure you did fine!” laughed Ethan.

When Woody got the essay back on Thursday, he was surprised to see only two major red slashes on his paper. Heinsworth’s exact remarks on his paper were “This essay shows promise. I think you have gotten the gist of the assignment and implemented it quite well. To revise, you may want to consider visiting the Writing Center.”

“Should I not revise it?” Woody contemplated, “I mean, she was the one who graded my paper, so if my final score for the paper is low, that would make her look bad. And so if the class average is higher than mine…you’ll be in good shape. She can’t fire you.”

Ethan shook his head, “Of course, you should edit your paper, and you should stop looking into stuff that simply aren’t there. Heinsworth’s flirting with me a little less, but that’s about it. She still treats me with the same amount of respect.”
“Maybe she thinks she can convert you back to straighthood. She still thinks she can get in your pants.”
“Well, rest assured,” Ethan winked, “I’m wearing a chastity belt that only you can unbuckle.”

Much to the surprise of the whole class, when everyone got back their final draft, the average was a high B. Half the class received A’s, thirty percent of the class received B’s, and ten percent of the class received C’s….No D’s or F’s at all. Whether Heinsworth intended to fire Ethan or not, based on the performance of the class, Ethan’s job was secure…and it remained secure for the rest of the semester.

****

It was a freezing cold late November. There was only a distance of ten feet from the car to the front door of the building, but Woody was still afraid to venture that treacherous distance. Woody zipped up the brown leather jacket to his neck before he had the courage to turn off the engine. Opening the car door, Woody quickly stumbled out, whisked through the nipping air, and quickly pulled at the glass door to the building. But the door did not open. “Shit,” Woody wasted breath to the cold air, and quickly tapped at the front door, “Hey, is anybody in there? I’m here for the calendar shoot.”

“Coming,” Woody could swear it was Ethan’s voice he heard. Through the frosty glass, Woody also swore he saw Ethan coming up to open the door. Only when the door swung wide and Woody squeezed inside that he realized the man standing in front of him was not Ethan White, but someone who looked very much like him.

“Sorry about the door. It gets stuck sometimes,” the handsome man in blue sweater presented a hand, “I’m Adam. Your photographer. You must be Sherwood.”

Woody didn’t know how to react. When most people call him by his proper name, Woody would cringe with a bitter taste in his mouth. When Ethan White called him by his proper name, Woody would swoon as if his heart was covered with sugar. But he didn’t know how to react when a guy who looked similar to Ethan, sounded like Ethan but wasn’t exactly Ethan call him by his proper name. So he ended up nodding, shaking the man’s hand, and saying, “Yeah, but please, call me Woody.”

“Kay, Woody,” said the young man named Adam, “Why don’t you put your coat on the rack and go heat up by the lamp over there?”
Woody nodded and took off his brown leather jacket and threw it over the coat rack. The coldness from outside still clinging to his skin, Woody shivered with goosebumps and immediately moved to the high-voltage fluorescent lamps used for lighting the set.

“So how’s my cousin doing?” Adam asked.
Woody stopped shivering to give his mind a moment to process the question. The synapses in his brain finally kicked in and Woody soon recalled Ethan telling about his cousin, Adam, the guy who modeled for the weird statue at the art museum of Southwind University.

“Oh, he’s doing fine. All the students he teaches love him. And he’s got this great review on a short story he recently wrote,” Woody said, “Thanks for asking. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner who you were.”
“Oh, how could you realize?” Adam shrugged, “I’m sure he doesn’t talk about me a lot.”

“Well, he did mention you from time to time.”
“How much did he tell ya?” wondered Adam.
“Um, he says you guys don’t get along because of personality conflict,” Woody said truthfully, “That’s about all I know.”

“I guess that’s all you should know,” said Adam, “My make-up assistant’s car is stalled, so it’ll take a while for her to get here. Or, she might not make it at all. But that shouldn’t be an issue. By the looks of it, you seem pretty flawless, tone and complexion, all around a very beautiful face.”

“Thanks,” Woody blushed.
“You understand that the guys in the calendars are all shirtless?” Adam said.
“Yes, I saw last years calendar…”
“Good, cause some guys don’t realize that until I ask them to strip.”
“No, yes, I do know.” Woody nodded.
“Are you comfortable with it?” asked Adam.
“Yes, I’ve had a while to mentally prepare…so…”

“Okay, well. Why don’t you take off your shirt,” said Adam, “It’ll take some time to get acclimated to the temperature. So you won’t shiver throughout the shooting process.”
Woody nodded and pulled the T-shirt over his head and sighed as the warm lights radiated into his body.

“Gorgeous body,” Adam bit his lip in delight, “That’s what I love so much about this profession. I get paid for ogling people. And it’s a bonus treat if the person can actually pose, but somehow, I have a feeling you’re gonna be a natural.”
“Thanks,” Woody blushed again. “I’ll try my best.”

Adam began describing the shooting process, “This year, the Campus Hunks calendar is going with the theme: reflections. So we’re gonna shoot you in front of a mirror, or standing in a small pool of water, or digitally add your image in a dessert mirage, or whatever I can come up within the next hour…and then we’ll look at the photos and use the best one.”
“Sounds great,” said Woody.

Adam’s assistant called to say she couldn’t make it, so the photo session began as soon as he shut the phone.

It was a good forty-five minutes later when Adam had uploaded all the photos to the computer and Woody could see the results of his first time modeling.
“Wow,” exclaimed Adam, “I can use every one of these frames. The sorority girls are gonna have a hard time choosing a favorite.”

“You’re a great photographer,” Woody said, “I mean, I didn’t think you could make the ones with me standing in a kiddie pool work…but you did. They look awesome.”

“So, how long have you two been together?” asked Adam out of the blue.

Woody rolled his eyes up the sockets to calculate and came to a sweet realized, “It’s exactly ten months today. Whoa shit, I can’t believe it. It’s gone by so fast.”

“Cool,” nodded Adam slowly, “So, you aiming to break your sister’s record?”

Woody brought his eyebrows together, “What do you mean?”
“Well, Ethan and Laurie dated for two years,” said Adam, “You think you two will last that long?”

“Um, yeah. I think we will last very, very long,” Woody was definitely offended, “As a matter of fact, we will last forever.” He was getting madder with every word that sputtered out, “Jesus! I’m sorry, but what kind of asshole question is that?”

“Aren’t you a bit concerned?” Adam asked, “Given his dating history?”
“What are you talking about?” Woody asked, “Ethan has a great dating history. All his relationships have lasted at least three months. Most of my relationships barely last the morning after.”

“Has he shown any signs?”
“What signs?”
“Like going out to the living room in the middle of the night to watch television. Or finding reasons to work late into the night. Or accepting any reason to travel for a few weeks without you. Or, um, encouraging you to take a trip somewhere without him.”

“No, he hasn’t!” said Woody crossly “And what does it have to do with anything?”
“Well, according to Ron and Charlie and his other exes,” said Adam, “Those are tell-tale signs that he’s about to break up with you. So I guess it’s good…I mean, GREAT, that he hasn’t. I guess that means he really likes you.”

“He LOVES me,” corrected Woody, “And I love him. And I believe this is the last time we’ll talk to each other, so thanks for the shoot. Goodbye.”
Woody tramped down the hall to the front door, took his jacket off the rack, and yanked at the door handle. The door wouldn’t budge. Woody waited with crossed arms for Adam to open it for him before storming out indignantly, running quickly to his car and turning on the heater full blast. Not waiting for the car to warm up, Woody immediately backed out and drove off driveway and into the street.

****

“Hey, babe. How did the photo shoot go?” asked Ethan as Woody walked into the apartment and slammed the door shut.
“Great!” said Woody, “Everything went great up until your stupid cousin Adam started asking if we’ll ever break up.”

“Oh, Adam was your photographer?” said Ethan, “The photos probably will come out great then.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Woody scowled, “He was jinxing us to break up!”
“Well, Adam’s like that. He says stuff without thinking sometimes,” said Ethan, “I’m kind of used to it by now. Don’t let him ruin your day.”

“Now I know why you never talk about him!” Woody sighed, “He has a stupid mouth like me, only ten times worse.”

“Come here,” Ethan opened up his arms as Woody fell into them, “So, how was it, getting in your skivvies and strutting about?”
“There was much less strutting than there were awkward poses,” laughed Woody, “But yeah, I guess we’ll have to see the final product next month.” Then Woody remembered the importance of that day, “Hey, do you know what today is?”

“Novemeber 29th,” said Ethan.
“Yeah…” Woody said, “What else is it?”
“Um…one week after thanksgiving.”
“No, you idiot,” Woody said, “It’s our ten month anniversary.”
Ethan laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a notable anniversary.”
“Well, it is to me.” Woody said, “It’s notable to me.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Ethan smiled smugly, “I made a reservation at the Geisha House at 8 tonight to celebrate.”
“Ooooh, Japanese,” Woody winked with delight, “I am so in the mood for it.”

<%PART%>

“Hey, Woody, it’s me,” It was Shonda Bailey, the girl Woody met at the sorority party who asked him to model for the calendar, “I’m sure you’re checking out your calendar right now. It looks absolutely terrific. I just wanted to say that you’re the first freshman ever to grace the front cover, so congratulations! You’re also Mr. January; I guess it would be appropriate since that’s your birth-month. Okay, well, happy holidays. Bye.”

As of the moment, the calendar she was referring to was on the floor along with Woody’s and Ethan’s shirts and pants.

Fifteen minutes prior, Ethan got the mail and was first to see the calendar. When he opened the manila envelope and pulled out the content, Ethan’s whole body ignited with desires he had never felt before. Woody’s slender, photogenic face was imprinted on the glossy calendar. His face pressed up against a gray-tinted looking glass. His green eyes never looked more exotic and captivating, as if it was staring directly into Ethan’s soul. His beautiful lips pursed, glistening slightly but sexily. The gray-tint of the mirror gave Woody’s reflection an exotic, man-of-the-future look, capturing so well the lines and structure that made his face so appealing. The photo cut down to Woody’s shoulders, hinting at his beautiful chest, but never actually showing it. Enticing the viewer to turn the page in order to see the rest of his heaven-made body.

So Ethan turned the page to January and felt his pants getting tighter and tighter as he stared at his gorgeous boyfriend. Throughout their relationship, there were so many moments when Woody made some kind of face or gesture that was incredibly cute, and Ethan desperately wanted to permanently capture those moments. Now, Adam had been able to capture some of those moments. The picture showed Woody laying on his front, like he was sleeping, his whole body reflected by the digitally-created sheet of ice on which he lay. The picture captured beautifully how Woody’s eyelids looked when closed, his semi-long eyelashes were like wings of angels on either side of his perfect nose. The breathtaking way his shoulders and back curved right down to the small of his back…and to Woody’s finest feature, his amazing buttocks, accentuated by low-cut jean.

When Woody walked into the room, Ethan showed him the calendar and said, “I knew you would make the front cover.” Woody barely had fifteen seconds to examine his pictures before his virile lover took him by the arms and kissed the beautiful lips with fervent and passion. “I’ve never been more turned on,” Ethan sighed, “I just have to have you right now.” Woody melted into the wonderful kiss and dropped the calendar, letting their passion guide them to the bed and out of their constricting clothes. Letting Ethan’s desires direct his hands across the younger man’s body. Letting Ethan’s carnal needs negotiate their sensual play.

Ethan had little desire to penetrate Woody, had little desire to fuck in order to ejaculate. Sometimes, there are some things better than achieving an orgasm…like knowing the most desired man on campus was your boyfriend, like knowing that the most desired man on campus was in love with you and you in love with him. All Ethan wanted was to pleasure every inch of Woody’s mortal skin, love him deep enough to reach into Woody’s tender soul. He had explored the incredible body countless times before, but Ethan wanted to spend the whole night making sure he didn’t miss a spot, making sure every single square each of the perfection called Sherwood Anderson was accounted for. Only when the younger man asked to be entered, did Ethan make intercourse with Woody.

But numerous orgasms later, loads after bigger loads of hot ejaculatory later, Ethan was still lapping his tongue under Woody’s chin, rubbing his fingers on Woody’s tight shoulders, gliding his legs against Woody’s thighs. “I can’t get enough of your body, I just can’t!” Ethan said. “I love you, Sherwood. I love you I love you I love you. I can’t say it enough.”

“I think you say it about forty times a day,” Woody laughed, “I’d say that’s enough.”

“No, it isn’t.” Ethan protested, grabbing Woody’s toes and kissing them, “It should be eighty times a day. One hundred twenty times. One thousand one hundred twenty. Every single second I want to touch you, hold you, and say I love you.”

Woody didn’t think he could be any happier, but the more Ethan said those wonderful words, the more his spirit soared, “I want this to last forever. I want every day for the rest of our lives to be like the last few months. Me waking up next to you, one of us coming out to make the other breakfast, go to school and work, come home as quickly as we can to be with each other, making dinner together or going out, fucking four days a week, falling asleep in each other’s arms, and waking up and repeating the whole day. It’s the best thing in the world, so SIMPLE, so ROUTINE, yet so WONDERFUL…”

****

Woody slowly opened his eyes. In the darkness of the room, the utter lack of bodily warmth took Woody’s breath away…and not in a good way. His hand was unsteady as he reached out in frantic hopes to find Ethan’s body. But his fingers felt nothing until they came down to the cool silk sheet on the mattress. Rolling over to switch on the lamp, Woody blinked several times to let his eyes adjust to the yellow glowing room. Ethan’s body which usually lit every room with warmth and life was nowhere to be seen, leaving the bed chamber cold and desolate.

Woody could feel his heart beating faster and faster as the dreadful conversation with Adam came to mind; his lungs was on the verge of collapse, making it painful for him to breathe. This is crazy, Woody told himself, there is nothing to worry about. Ethan’s probably just taking a midnight piss. So Woody waited for a moment longer, laying quietly, hoping to see the college graduate come back to bed in a matter of minutes.

But the minutes ticked slowly by, and with his ears now attuned to the night, he could detect the soft sounds of the television out in the living room. Shaking his head in utter disbelief, Woody threw back the covers and put on his slippers and went out of the bedroom. In the hallway, Woody could see irregular bright flashes of the television. As he stepped foot into the living room, he could see Ethan’s head resting above the couch. When Ethan heard Woody’s footsteps, he looked behind him, stared for a long moment, before producing a tight-lipped smile.

“Hey, there,” said Woody slowly and guardedly. He feigned a casual voice, but deep inside, his heart was tearing apart.
“Hi,” Ethan said. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”
Woody fought back tears, his voice already cracking, “Why don’t…you come back to bed. Drink some Nyquil, that’ll knock you right out.”

Ethan shook his head, “But I can’t possibly turn off ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’…one of my favorite movies ever. It’s a sin to turn off this film.”
“It’s one of my favorite movies too,” said Woody.
“I got a blanket here,” Ethan said, with a softer smile, “Wanna get under it and watch it with me?”

Ethan’s invitation flooded Woody with pure relief, followed by a surge of utter joy that warmed his heart again and made it easier for him to breathe. Woody quickly got under the cover, leaning back against Ethan’s chest, resting his head on Ethan’s shoulder, having Ethan’s wonderful arms tightly around him. Christmas was five days away, but both boys have tried hard to buy each other presents and tried even harder to keep them hidden until the morning of. But Woody couldn’t think of a present he needed more than the best gift he had already received: the gift of Ethan’s whole body and soul.

****

The Holiday break started on December 15th and lasts till the Thursday after Woody’s birthday. To Woody, it should was a month of rest, of doing nothing, of leaving productivity behind and enjoying the blessings of the holidays. But for Ethan, a holiday break was just time to find more things to do, more need to fill his life so it wouldn’t became so stagnant, so mundane, so routine.

Ethan took a job to help foreigners study for their tests to become a naturalized citizen of the United States. That meant he worked from 6 to 9 every night that except for the holidays. So every night, the couple made dinner at five before Ethan had to go to work. While Ethan was teaching, Woody would use this time to either talk to the Welling twins and Reed, or call up someone he knew on campus to hang out. But immediately at 9, he would break all engagement and come back to the house to be with Ethan.

When Woody got home at 10 pm one night, feeling a bit guilty for taking an hour longer that he should have, Woody went about the apartment searching for Ethan, but the latter was nowhere to be found. Woody checked his cell phone and found that Ethan had left him a message. Apparently, the music from the club Woody attended had drowned out Ethan’s call. Woody listened to the message, “Hey, honey. I just found out one of my students has just taken his naturalization interview and passed. So he’s invited me and the whole class to celebrate with him. Sorry, I’ll be back as soon as the party’s over. Love you, Kisses. Bye.”

Woody never thought himself as the needy, clingy, got-to-be-with-my-significant-other-all-the-time type of person, but when it comes to Ethan, he was. He realized this now more than ever. And once again, the things Adam White said flooded back to his mind. But Woody absolutely refused to believe anything Ethan’s evil counterpart said. Adam was probably just jealous, he probably envious of Ethan and Woody’s strong relationship. He probably just wanted to shake up the foundation, to see if their relationship would break apart. But it won’t! It will not break apart, because Woody knew their emotional and spiritual bond was steel-solid all the way through. Woody knew their relationship would last forever.

<%PART%>

Ethan had finished his teaching job for the permanent residents, so the couple finally had a chance to drive back to Southwind in order to celebrate Woody’s birthday on January 15th with his parents.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Woody. Happy birthday to you…” With only one wish in his mind, the most important wish he had ever had. Woody blew out the candles. As the last candle flickered out, the crowd applauded. Woody was surrounded by all his loved ones: his parents, the Welling twins and Reed Valentine were all there, and most importantly, Ethan White was right beside him.

Ethan’s parents came late after the candles were blown and only stayed for fifteen minutes. Woody had only seen Ethan’s parents together three times in the last year. Separately, he saw them a dozen times each, when they came up to visit Ethan at the new apartment. They were very happy, pleasant, all-around-nice folks…that is, when they were separate. But each time he saw them together, Woody thought they seemed more miserable than the last. Woody had to wonder: if they were so unhappy together, why don’t they just get a divorce? Ethan was now a strong, confident adult; he could surely take the blow of his parents’ separation better than he would as a child.

But that night, Woody had more pressing matters to worry about…

“What are you going to do in New York?” Woody asked.
“I told you, I have a meeting with a publishing company. To see if any of my short stories are publishable,” said Ethan.

“How long will it take?”
“Probably, less than two weeks,” said Ethan, “I’ll be back before our anniversary.”

“Can I come with?”
“You can’t. You’re beginning the second semester. It’s not good to start out with a bad attendance record from your teachers,” said Ethan.
“Okay,” gulped Woody, “Good luck then.”
“Thank you,” Ethan said, “And you know what. I have a better version of the birthday song. Wanna hear it?”
Woody nodded.
“It’s really dirty,” Ethan warned. “And dorky.”
“The dirtier…and dorkier…the better.” Woody guffawed.

“Alright, here it goes: Got a boner for you. Got a boner for you. Got a boner…it’s a big one. Got a boner for you…” Ethan got on top of his boyfriend, pressing the subject of the song at Woody’s thigh, and proceeded to make love with him.

The evening of the next day, Woody drove Ethan to the airport. The latter gave the former one hell of a great long kiss that would have to last that entire two weeks. Then Woody drove the 120 miles back to Ashton, the utter silence of not having Ethan’s voice in the car was unbearable. Tomorrow would be the start of the Spring semester, but Woody couldn’t fall asleep when he got home. It was the first night that he was not in Ethan’s arms, so he downed a couple of beers, but still couldn’t make himself fall asleep.

****

For the last twenty minutes, Woody had been staring at his meatball sub-sandwich. By now, the meat was cold from outside in, and the marinara sauce seemed to have congealed. He had only taken two bites of it, and already, the thoughts of what Adam’s warning signs made his stomach bloated and queasy. Even though he knew his body needed food, Woody couldn’t force himself to take another bite. So he sipped his soft drink, but even that, after a while, made his stomach upset.

Woody wrapped up his sandwich and threw it in the trash and was about to leave the sub-sandwich restaurant when he saw two men walking in. One of them was strikingly handsome and tall with brown, floppy-haired cuteness; the other was shorter, ruggedly handsome, and his head was shiny bald. The taller man was Ethan’s cousin, Adam White, someone Woody had no desire to ever see or speak to again. The other one, it took a while for Woody to realize, was Ron…Ethan’s ex-boyfriend who worked at the sports fitness drugstore in Southwind.

Woody turned his face to the wall, but he knew it was too late. They had already seen him. As the two went up to order their sandwich, Woody wanted to use the chance to slip out, but before he could make it to the door, Ron had tapped him by the shoulder, “Hey, Woody. Remember me?”

Woody gulped down dry air and nodded. Ron asked if he had time to sit and catch up, and Woody made the excuse of having to go to the library to meet up with his study group. But the older man could see straight through the lie and called him out on it. So reluctantly, Woody gave in and followed Ron to a four person booth where Adam was already sitting. Ron plopped down next to Adam, while Woody sat across from them, their four eyes beaming directly at him.

“Hi, Sherwood…Woody, I mean,” Adam corrected himself, “I’m very sorry for the things I said last time. I have a big mouth that I can’t seem to shut sometimes.”
“That’s okay,” Woody lied. There was no way he was going to forgive Adam for bombarding his mind with such terrible thoughts that had been destroying him for more than a week now since Ethan left.

“So, where’s Ethan?” Adam asked.
“He’s in New York, meeting with a publisher. He’s been working on a couple of short stories for some time now and he feels ready for some of them to be published.”
“Oh, wow,” Ron said, “That’s cool. He was writing one about a time machine when we were dating. Did he finish that one?”
Woody shook his head. “No, he’s still working on that one.”
“So, why didn’t you go to New York with him?” Adam asked.

“I…school’s just started back up,” Woody said, “If I didn’t attend class the first few days, the teacher could automatically drop me out of the course.”

“Is that your own excuse?” Adam asked, “Or is that Ethan’s reasoning to prevent you from going with him?”
Ron nudged the taller guy, “Shut up, will you?”
Adam said, “Oh, yeah, sorry. I wasn’t really implying anything.”

“Good!” Woody said, still greatly offended, “Cause just so you know. Ethan and I have never been happier. He’s coming back before the 29th so we can celebrate our one year anniversary.”
“Congratulations,” Ron said, “So the past year has been going very well for you?”

“Yes, graduated from high school. Made it through my first semester of college. We’re settled in this new town. Everything’s going alright. Everything’s falling into place. We’re all very happy…living the routine life of a happy couple…”

“Routine?” Ron dropped his jaw, “Have you ever used the word ‘routine’ when you discuss with Ethan about your relationship?”
“Yeah! I have,” Woody brought his brows together, “I’m sure I’ve used that word before. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal…” snorted Adam, “…is that Ethan hates that word ‘routine.’ In his mind, routine means monotony, it means the same thing over and over and over and over and over again. He hates routine. In high school, how many extracurricular activities did he join? There’s football during the fall, track and field during the spring, student government president, Drama Club thespian, the French club. He worked at the comic-book store, he volunteers at the hospital, he volunteered at the nursing home, and he volunteered with Big Brother/Big Sister. As soon as he could, he moved out of his parents’ house to live on his own. All his life, he has jammed packed his days so that he would have no time to think about ‘routine.’”

“And when it comes to relationship,” Ron added, “He’s got the same hang-ups. He tends to break up with people when it begins to feel too routine. I guess you could say, he likes the chase more than the catch.”

Woody retorted, “But my sister! He dated my sister more than two years. Why would he stay with her for so long if he…how’d cha put it?…likes the chase more than the catch?”

“I knew you were going to bring that up,” Adam had an answered already prepared, “But if you think about it…for that last year, she was in different state, miles and miles separated them, so their relationship never felt routine. He never felt trapped. That’s why he never broke up with her.”

“Will you shut up?” Ron growled at Adam, “But it’s not just him, Woody. It’s not just Ethan who has this problem.” Ron nudged at Adam’s shoulder, “It seems all the men of the White family are genetically input to be repulsed by that same word.”

“But…you two are together,” Woody assumed, “How…how do you make it work?”

Ron laughed, “Oh, no. We’re not together. We’re just fuck-buddies.”
Adam added, “No obligations, no attachment, no routine, no problems.”

“The thing about Ethan is…” Ron said, “And I hope you find some comfort in this…is that Ethan is a rare black sheep in the White family. He’s the only one trying to break the family’s mold. He’s the only one trying to fight his nature.”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed, “Most of us Whites are still perfectly happy bachelors. With the exception of Ethan’s dad who, as you can tell, is not in a happy marriage. But Ethan…you have to give him credit, he tries hard to stick with the same person for as long as he can bear it. And I keep telling him, you know, he’s only gonna hurt the person more the longer he stays in the relationship cause it’s doomed to die anyhow.”

“Back when we dated, I’ve suggested for us to have an open relationship,” Ron said, “But you know Ethan. He doesn’t cheat, and he absolutely refuses to invite a third party into the bedroom.”
“Yeah,” Adam interjected, “You see, he’s only digging himself a bigger hole that’s already hard get out of. If he would just listen to my advice. If he would just play the field...he wouldn’t have to hurt anybody. He wouldn’t have to hurt you.”

“Jesus, Adam, just shut up already,” said Ron, “You know what, Woody? I do believe you can change him. I do believe you’re the one who can make him realize that routine is not so bad. You’re the one for him. You are! You have to believe that in yourself. He’s gonna change for the better because of you.”

“Ron, stop giving the guy false hope,” said Adam, “You, yourself, thought you could change him, and guess what, you barely lasted three months,” then he turned back to Woody, determined to get his point across, “Sherwood, listen to me, what I have to tell you may be hard to hear, but it’s the truth. It’s done. It’s over. When he gets back from the trip, he’s gonna break up with you. But not right away, he’s probably gonna sneak in a little sex before he dumps you. And oh, he’s gonna act as if everything’s going fine. Make you your for favorite meal, whatever it is, he’s gonna make tons of it. And then he’s gonna invite you to the living room, sit you down, and start his break up speech. For a guy who hates routine, that’s how it’s always been when he breaks up. If you want to prolong the break up…which I don’t recommend at all…don’t have sex, don’t eat the food, don’t let him sit you down, and he wouldn’t have a chance to give the speech…”

“Yeah, well…thanks for the great enlightening advice. I gotta go…I gotta get outta here…” Woody stood up and fled the sub-sandwich restaurant as fast as he could.

****

The next couple of days went by like a continuous blurry streak for Woody Anderson. He managed to go to his classes…well, at least the ones where attendance counts, and finished his homework in a half-assed manner. At four pm every afternoon when Woody’s classes were over, Ethan would call, sounding perfectly casual, as they talked for at least two hours. On the weekend, they would talk longer. But as soon as Woody got off the phone, he would spend the rest of the evening going through the case of twenty-four cans of beer in the fridge. When the case was empty, Woody went through the other two cases, not even bothering to chill them first.

When Ethan came home late on the evening of January 28th, he found his boyfriend laying rather haphazardly on the sofa, his arms dangling to the floor, his legs flung over the armrest. Ethan noticed the cans of beer scattered throughout the living room and laughed, assuming that Woody had thrown some parties while he was away, not realizing that Woody had drank all the beer himself. Ethan kneeled down in front of the couch and ran his hand through Woody’s dark blonde hair; it felt sticky but still soft. Ethan could hear Woody desperate mumbling but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

“I’m here, Sherwood. I’m home,” Ethan whispered softly, kissing Woody’s cheeks, but Woody was too out of it to notice the return of his boyfriend. Peeling Woody from the sofa, the older man carried his boyfriend back into the bedroom. Ethan noticed that the bed spread was flat and even…and because Woody was never the type to make his bed, Ethan knew that Woody hadn’t slept on it the whole time Ethan was gone. Slowly, he laid his lover down, tucking a soft downy pillow under his head, and carefully taking off his shoes before throwing a blanket over him. Ethan changed into comfortable sleeping attire and tucked himself under the covers, embracing the body he had missed so much in the past two weeks.

Morning eventually came, and the sun rays poured over the couple in bed. As the light filtered through Woody’s eyelids, the young man opened his eyes to see a handsome face staring inches away from his.
Ethan beamed, “Morning, sleeping beauty.”
“Ethan? When did you get back?” Woody asked groggily.
“Around 10 pm last night.”
“Did you…did you carry me to bed?”
“No, I used my telekinetic power and levitated you.”

“How…how did it go? With the publishers?”
“Pretty good. I mean, nothing decisive yet. Didn’t sign a contract or anything. But I think they are impressed with a few of my stories.”
“I’m glad,” said Woody honestly.

“Your breath smells like fermentation,” Ethan chuckled, “But I don’t care. I have to kiss you, cause I’ve been dying to do so for the last half-month…” Ethan rolled partly on top of his boyfriend and planted a soft, long-lasting kiss that temporarily lifted Woody’s soul from the bottom of a dark abyss. “I brought the calendar of you with me. It helped somewhat, but I almost bore a hole through your face with all the saliva.”

“Did you take the bus? I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up,” said Woody.
“That’s okay. I wanted to surprise you. Happy anniversary!” Ethan whispered softly, running a hand over Woody’s chest under his white A-shirt. Instantly, he could feel the pectorals tensing up, the nipples hardening to a point. The fine hair on Woody’s chest stood up as fingers stroked the skin. “I wanna make love with you, Sherwood.”

Woody’s only reply was an utterance mixed with desire and grief, half willingness, half fear. He could never say No to Ethan, could never give less than what Ethan wanted; he could never deny himself the chance to feel Ethan’s love all over his body and deep inside his soul. At the same time, Adam’s precise prediction was coming true…Ethan was making love to him right after he returned; they would make love, possibly for the last time.

Ethan took Woody’s utterance as a sign of total consent and proceeded to separate both their bodies of their clothing. Now, after two agonizingly long weeks, Ethan had his lover’s naked flesh wrapped in his arms and legs, and he knew just exactly what to do with it. All three hours of his flight plus the two hours of his bus ride from the airport to Ashton, Ethan had planned exactly how he wanted their sexual experience to occur, how the whole day were to unfold.

Ethan raised Woody’s legs with care, wrapping around his waist. His penetrating pupils delved through the window of Woody’s beautiful eyes straight into his soul, at the same time, Ethan’s hard, eager, twitching organ penetrated the tight pucker of his lover’s bowel.

Woody didn’t know why he was so surprised of the initial pain. Two weeks, the love canal had been untouched, had taken time to heal, to tighten up, but Woody couldn’t believe it was this painful. But as Ethan dipped down for a soothing kiss, Woody’s pain melted away and what replaced was the beginning of sheer pleasure.

Missionary, whether anal or vaginal, it is the most generic, the most familiar, the most overused position of love making. But with Ethan, the missionary was far from dull and predictable; it was as romantic, passionate, exciting, exhilarating, breath-taking as any other position, especially near the end when screams and moans lasted longer than actual breaths. Ethan had always been able to use the dominating position to his greatest advantage, taking control without hesitation, acting as the main provider of all the pleasure, the master of all the senses. He touched with great sincerity, so every part of Woody’s body felt special, every fiber of Woody’s being felt revitalized. He propelled inward with all his heart, with great precision, so each bang was worth the buck, each pummelation was cum-inducingly fantastic. He kissed with undeniable affection, all over Woody’s neck and face, but it was his kiss on the lips that brought Woody to tears.

Woody cried because every movement Ethan made, every pleasurable action he performed, displayed all the indication that Ethan still loved him, still cared for him, still needed him. So how could Ethan possibly be thinking of calling it quits at this moment, how could Ethan be planning his break up speech, how could Ethan go through with it knowing full well by the end of the day he would be hurting the very person he was making love to right now?

“Sweetie, am I hurting you?” Ethan asked, his faced filled with concern.
Woody blinked the tears to run down the side of his face and turned to the wall, no longer able to look into Ethan’s eyes, “No, I’m just so happy you’re back…that’s all.”

And so Ethan continued, now lifting Woody’s legs higher, strapping over his shoulders. This position asked for more movement, more flexibility, and in returned offered greater penetration and more surprising thrills. Digging his knees deeper into the firm mattress, curling his toes in the soft blankets, rocking harder, and thrusting faster, and driving deeper into Woody’s core, Ethan gave it his all. But based on Woody’s bodily signals, or lack thereof, Ethan could tell that Woody was NOT at all near the point of climax.

Woody tried, he really tried, to enjoy it as he usually would. But nothing Ethan did, no matter how pleasurable it was, could lift Woody from the depth of misery he had fallen into. Even now as they switched position, Ethan laying on his side behind Woody, spooning, holding Woody in his arms, kissing the back of his lover’s neck, squeezing the skin and muscles of Woody’s thigh…nothing, absolutely nothing, did anything for Woody.

“I know you’re mad…that I made you stay,” Ethan muttered between hard grunts, “I’ll take you with me…next time I go. I learned my lesson…I’m a fool…thinking that two weeks…without you…would be a piece of cake. It’s not…Sherwood…call me clingy…call me needy…cause it’s all true…I need you…all the time…I love you.”

Like magic, those words brought Woody back to life. Ethan was talking of the future…a future where they were still together. Ethan can’t possibly plan on breaking up with him, not when he said those things. And with that thought, Woody felt the rush of all the fluids in his body: blood filling up his member, sweat steaming out of his body, drool flowed out of his mouth as Ethan kissed him now…and so Woody came, more satisfied than he ever remembered. Ethan came also, hard and furious, with all that two weeks have stored, filling deep inside of Woody, until the thick white fluid gushed out onto the bedspread, dripping on Woody’s thigh.

Ethan pulled out, only to ask, “I need you to come inside me, Sherwood. I need it badly.”

Woody flipped over to face Ethan and sighed, “Of course, babe. But let me rest for a moment, then fetch me a condom.”
“No…” Ethan said, “I meant, cum inside me. I want to feel your ejaculation.”

“Bareback?” Woody asked. The nasty issue that was presented at the beginning of their relationship had returned, “I…sure, have you cleansed yourself?”
Ethan shook his head.
Woody rolled his eyes, “I…I’ll do anything for you, Ethan. You know that, but you also have to meet me halfway here.”

Ethan nodded understandingly, but his deep sigh hinted disappointment, “I’m too tired right now to shove a pipe up my bum and fill it with warm water. I guess we won’t have to do it then.”
“Okay,” Woody shrugged, feeling too worn out from Ethan’s lovemaking to persuade otherwise.

Ethan stretched an arm lightly across the younger man’s chest. Woody could sense something was dramatically different. Usually, if Ethan was holding him, he was REALLY HOLDING him, squeezing the air out of him…not like he was doing now, half-assed and lethargic. Woody tried to study Ethan’s face, the usually bright, ever so happy-go-lucky visage, was now an unreadable blank slate.

“Are you mad?” Woody asked.
“What? No,” Ethan said, “It’s perfectly reasonable you want me to be clean if you don’t use a condom.”
“Then why aren’t you holding me tighter?”
Ethan sighed, “Oh, sorry.” And began clenching like a boa constrictor around Woody’s chest, “Is that better? I just…you know, had a five hour long trip. And I stayed up all night watching you sleep, and I just spilled two weeks of passion. I’m just a bit worn out, that’s all.”

But Woody wasn’t so sure that was all. As Ethan began to drift asleep, Woody laid beside him as fear returned. For the next three hours, he laid petrified, barely able to move as Adam’s prediction ached every bone in his body. God, why didn’t he just go through with it, why didn’t he just satisfy Ethan and get it over with. This was it…this would be Ethan’s excuse to break up with him.

<%PART%>

“We don’t have to drive all the way to the market, buy some food, and drive back home and cook for an hour before we can eat. Can’t we just have some Chinese or something?” suggested Woody as he shrugged into his leather jacket, “It’ll be much easier for you. I mean, you said you were tired after the long trip.”

“No, the three hour nap did me good. Besides, you haven’t been pampered and spoiled the last two weeks,” said Ethan with a smirk, putting on his blue coat, “Now, you’re all skin and bones. I’m making you your favorite baby-back ribs and force feed you until you gain back the five pounds on that lovely booty of yours!”

“It’s a big bother, Ethan,” said Woody, “If we’re gonna go out in the cold, it may as well be to a warm restaurant somewhere.”
“Okay, tell me this. Do you like my cooking or the restaurant’s more?”
“Well…yours…of course…but…”

“No butts, just ribs. Lots of em. Drowned in barbeque. And that’s that!”

It took the better part of an hour to drive through the ice-covered road to the grocery store, select the leanest package of ribs they could find, pick out some vegetables to counter-balance their cholesterol-filled meal, buy some sauce and seasoning and a 24-pack of beer, then slip and slide their way back home. Woody offered to help prepare the food, but Ethan declined, saying that part of being spoiled and pampered meant sitting back, relaxing, and waiting for the food to come to you.

“But I wanna do something!” Woody sighed.

“Well, I have a feeling…” Ethan knew Woody too well, “That you haven’t done much schoolwork while I was gone. Maybe while waiting, you should get on that.”
“Doing homework?” Woody sighed even louder, “That doesn’t sound very relaxing.”

“Or you can help tidy up the place,” Ethan said, noting the trash strewn about the room and the cans of beer on every surface, “How many parties did you throw over the last two weeks.”
“Party?” Woody frowned, “I didn’t throw any party.”
“So you drank all that beer by yourself?”
Woody didn’t need to nod for Ethan to understand the answer was Yes.

“Three 24-packs? 72 cans in two weeks? 5 cans a day? Jesus, Sherwood, I know you’re a big fan of alcohol, but isn’t that a little excessive?” Ethan said, “Why in hell would you drink so much?”
“We…we ran out of coke…” was Woody’s lame excuse.

But before Ethan could interrogate further, Woody said he would clean up the living room and quickly left the kitchen area. In a half-assed manner, Woody gathered up all the cans of beer he could find and threw it in a trash bag and left the bag just before the doorway to the kitchen area (the trashcan was in the kitchen and if Woody were to walk in there, he would have to deal with Ethan’s nagging)

Finding nothing better to do and seeing as how he still reeked of alcohol, Woody decided to take a shower…the first one he’d taken in four days. Some fifteen minutes later, Woody was refreshed and cleansed on the outside, but internally, he felt as depressed and awful as he did the last half month. When he walked out of the bathroom, his face was wet, but Woody couldn’t tell if it was from the tears or the steam condensing on his skin.

Usually showers helped Woody think more clearly, but not this time. It only gave him more time to think of the ominous and inevitable event…Ethan was going to break up with him. When they were grocery shopping, Ethan seemed to be talking to him as normally as ever, and Woody feigned his reply. But under Ethan’s easy-going tone, under his usual demeanor, Woody could feel a boiling energy waiting to burst from Ethan’s body. Woody could detect that slight fluctuation in his voice as if, every moment, Ethan wanted to say something but was forcing back his urge.

“OWW, FUCKING SHIT!” Woody temporarily snapped out of his gloomy thoughts as his right toes snubbed at a corner of Ethan’s suitcase sitting on the floor. The boy clung to a bed pole, lest he fell flat on his face on the floor. Angrily, Woody kicked the suitcase, but that only aggravated his pained toes even more.

Woody sat down on the edge of the bed and continued to curse at the suitcase. After a while, he decided to curse at the thing while unpacking Ethan’s clothes. Lifting the luggage to the bed, Woody unbuckled the straps and unzipped the main flap all the way around. Flipping over the flap, Woody saw that all of Ethan’s clothes were nicely folded and packed perfectly. He couldn’t tell which ones were clean and which ones needed to be washed. Sniffing each one, Woody still couldn’t tell the difference because they all smelled like Ethan…a soft fresh scent that radiated five feet from his body in every direction…a scent Woody could inhale forever.

As Ethan now entered the room, Woody asked, “Oh, hey. Which ones are dirty so I can…”

“NO, STOP! Don’t unpack!” Ethan darted to the suitcase, flipped the flap down, dragged it off the bed, and zipped it up tight again. As he calmed down, Ethan could see the shock on Woody’s face, “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. Thanks for the gesture…but I can…I can do that on my own. I thought I told you to just relax. Go outside and watch TV. I’ll take care of this. And when the oven timer goes off, just holler.”

When Woody finally consented to leave the room, he could see Ethan gathering up his clothing and putting it back in the suitcase. He was packing up already. Ethan was already packing up to leave him forever.

****

The ribs were still sizzling when Ethan set the plate on the table in front of Woody. The young man being served accepted his portion with a light nod…any heavier movement and his head would have burst open.

“Eat up,” said Ethan with a wide smile.
Woody stared down at his plate. The ribs were nicely browned, the juices pooling around the edges of the plates, the steaming green beans to the side, corn to another side. The dish looked as appetizing as Ethan had ever made it, and having barely eaten anything in the last two weeks, Woody swallowed excess saliva, licked his lips, picked up the steak knife, and dug it at the side of a rib one, anchoring it with a fork.

Woody took a full bite and closed his eyes, letting out a gentle moan. Everything Ethan did was with fullest sincerity, with the fullest care and precision. His leadership on the football field reflected his leadership in the classroom. His skills in the bedroom reflected his skills in the kitchen. His manners during the start of the relationship reflects his manners during the end; he was always considerate, always caring; Ethan would tend to Woody’s needs, before he let him go forever. Each bite for Woody was a bite of pain and pleasure. It was his last meal, he savored it, soaked the juice and sauce on his tongue, swallowed it slowly, felt it slide down his throat, before cutting up another piece.

Ethan watched his boyfriend curiously. Usually, when eating ribs, Woody would just use his hands and go at them like a vulture on a carcass. Now, he was using utensils, he was averaging a minute a bite. This caused Ethan to wonder. Did he know? Did Woody know what this meal meant, what it would eventually lead to?

“I’m sorry if I got a little upset with you about your drinking,” said Ethan during the middle of dinner, “I’m just really concerned for you. I’m worried that that you can’t take care of yourself when you’re alone. It’s not a good thing, Sherwood.”
“Why would I be alone?” asked Woody, “I have you, don’t I?”

“Of course you have me,” said Ethan, “It’s just…the reason I fell in love with you was because I thought you were more responsible, I thought you knew the difference between having fun and being reckless. What I was thinking of doing tonight, Sherwood, I don’t know if I can do it if I know you haven’t grown up.”

“Then DON’T do it.” Woody pleaded, “Please don’t do it.”
“You don’t want me to do it?” Ethan asked, his face drowned in hurt.

“No. No. No. What-I-said-before-about-our-relationship-being-routine,” Woody began to speak faster than he could breathe, “I-didn’t-mean-that! I-was-stupid, what-I-said-was-just-stupid. Because-everyday-with-us-is-so-new-so-different-not-routine-at-all-Everyday-is-so-unpredictable. I-discover-new-things-about-you-about-me-about-us-about-life. Everyday-is-full-of-surprises. Please, Ethan, I beg of you. I love you so much…Please, don’t, Ethan, don’t leave me!”

“What are you talking about, babe?” Ethan asked, “You’re scaring me.”
“Don’t leave me. Don’t break up with me.”

“I’m not gonna break up with you because you drink too much,” Ethan snorted.
“Don’t do this to me, Ethan. You can’t leave me. I won’t let you!”

“Honey, why would I leave you?” Ethan was at a lost for words.
“You just…I just…Adam…and he…” Woody was at a lost for verbs.

“Adam? I thought we’ve established that whatever Adam says is crap?”
“Then you got to promise me.” Woody said, “Swear to all the gods that ever existed. Promise me, you will never leave me.”

Ethan nodded and said softly, “I think I can do just that…” He smiled, his eyes lit with a thousand twinkling stars. Gliding off the chair, Ethan came down on one knee, looking up at Woody’s perplexed face. Tucking his hand inside the back pocket of his pants, Ethan pulled out a slender red velvet box. He opened it to reveal a platinum bracelet, on which the words ‘Forever, together, we’ll be’ were engraved. Ethan took Woody’s trembling right hand, “Sherwood, a year ago, you asked me if you were the best I’ve ever had. At that time, I said no. You were disappointed, and so you never asked again. But if you would have asked me just two weeks later, after the night of our first date, I would have said YES. It only took one date, and you became my best. YOU ARE THE BEST!” Ethan paused as his eyes swelled with tears I love you. “I don’t want you to drown yourself in beer thinking you are anything less than the best. You are the most important thing in this world to me, and I want to spend every minute of everyday for the rest of my life making sure you realize that.” Ethan glanced down at the jewelry and uttered a sniffled chuckle, “I’m sure a diamond ring would look silly on your hand. But this bracelet...it represents our promise, our love, and our whole life. It can’t possibly hold everything I feel for you, but it’s close enough.

So by accepting this token, Sherwood Allen Anderson, will you marry me?”

Write or read comments on this story