Popping the Question

Popping the Question

Diana DeRicci

Published by Purple Sword Publications, LLC

www.PurpleSword.com

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are

fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and

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POPPING THE QUESTION

ISBN Not Assigned

Cover Art Designed By Anastasia Rabiyah

Edited By Traci Markou

Chapter One

Gregory studied the table critically, twisting the candle

holder a quarter turn. After a moment, he put it back where it had
been, then forced himself to step away from the romantically set
table, his hands at his sides. Plates gleamed. There was even a pale

cream tablecloth just for tonight. Because tonight was a very special
night.

His stomach was in knots. It had taken two years to get to

this point. Two years since his world had been completely tossed on
its ass and rebuilt, for the better, confronting and accepting truths

about himself that he’d ignored, avoided, or even simply refused to
acknowledge. Two years since he’d met Charlie on that beach in
south Texas.

A lone man cocooned from the world and hiding as much as

he could beneath woven wool sweaters and cotton.

An incredible man that Gregory had grown to love. In the

end, it didn’t really matter how they’d found each other, he only
knew he was ready to take the next step. Gregory knew what his

feelings were, and what he wanted to do about them.

Gregory never doubted how lucky he was to have found

Charlie, how Charlie helped Gregory become the man he was right

then. A new house, a new job, and a life he’d never imagined. Now
he couldn’t imagine it any other way, and only with Charlie.
Gregory had plans for tonight, their anniversary, the small velvet

box burning in his front pocket like a nugget of volcanic rock. He’d
been building up to this since they’d found the new house, after

moving out of RJ’s last summer.

They’d made a home together, blending their lives until it

wasn’t Charlie’s or Gregory’s, but theirs. It hadn’t happened without

its hiccups, without a few fights, but they were learning from each
other. Gregory was happiest with Charlie.

The only problem he had, as he stole another impatient peek

at the clock on the wall, was Charlie still wasn’t home from his last
class of the day.

A moment later, Samson woofed and Gregory twitched, so

lost in his whirring thoughts. Samson galloped for the door and
Gregory watched as it opened, his heart doing a little flutter of a

dance. He always reacted like that when he saw Charlie after being
apart for more than a few hours.

“Hey, fella,” Charlie called, patting the dog on its head.

“Greg?” He gripped his backpack, letting it slide to the floor by the

door with a relieved sigh and a thunk.

“Right here, babe.” He left the dining nook and met Charlie

inside the door. Lifting a hand, he threaded it through Charlie’s
lengthening hair. He’d already teased his man about never cutting it
again. Charlie was stunning with longer hair and Gregory loved it.

Loved the feel, the heat, the rich silken weight. It was merely an
extension of how he felt for Charlie.

With his fingers deep in those golden strands, he urged

Charlie forward, to shiver when seeking palms braced on Gregory’s
chest. The best part about coming home. He pressed until Charlie

melted, opening for the languid invasion. A gentle moan proved
Charlie’s enjoyment.

He licked at Charlie’s warm lips, then let him go. “How was

your day?”

“Long,” Charlie replied. A glimpse over Gregory’s shoulder

had Charlie’s eyes widen with a knowing, indulgent sparkle striking

their green depths. A deep sniff followed by a low rumble made it
clear he approved of the evening’s menu. “Looks like you’ve been

busy.”

“Happy anniversary.”
Charlie brightened. There was no other way to describe the

rise of pleasure on his features. “You’re amazing. The day we met.”
He tickled Gregory’s ribs lightly in jest, just enough to make his
squirm. He knew perfectly well how ticklish Gregory really was.

“And sweet.”

“Go take a long, hot shower. I’d be there to wash you, but I

have plans.”

Charlie chuckled. “I can tell.” He leaned close and gave a soft

kiss. “I can’t wait to see what they are.”

“Nothing too extreme, but I still want you to have a nice

evening.”

“I’ve already gotten it,” he remarked, heat simmering in his

gaze. “The rest is just icing.”

“God, I love you.” Gregory held Charlie still as he kissed him

until they were both panting. He unwound his arms, hardly
remembering when he’d wrapped Charlie into his body. “Shower,”
Gregory managed hoarsely, his plans unraveling with Charlie

formed like a hot, solid sex god against his body.

Charlie ran a finger over Gregory’s bottom lip. “Love you

too,” he murmured before one last kiss. “Let me go get cleaned up.”

Gregory grew hard in his jeans. He always did when Charlie

used that sex-and-honey voice. He watched until Charlie had

vanished within their bedroom, quietly heaving a groan of wanting.
He let Samson out to enjoy their little backyard while they ate

dinner. Puttering at the counter waiting for his lover, he held the
wine bottle, but finally decided he couldn’t chance it, setting it back
where he’d stored it. The last thing he wanted was for Charlie to

have any flashbacks of what had happened to him. It was in his
past, and this was to them, and their future.

* * * *

Charlie lowered to rest on the edge of the bed, toeing off his

trainers with small grunts of relief. Such little things causing such

large  moments  of  ahh.  He  sighed  in  relief  then  finished  stripping,
unbuckling the brace over his thigh last.  A good toe wiggle and he
pushed  himself  to  his  feet.  It  only  took  a  few  seconds  to  get  the

bathroom good and steamy. He held himself steady to climb into
the tub, and then eased the curtains closed.

The heat of the water soothed and eased the taut ache in his

leg. A bath would have been better, but he could soak it tomorrow.
With the soap in hand, he scrubbed everywhere, making sure to get

all the places that he knew Greg especially liked. He hummed,
stroking his hard length, his eyes closed against the rain of the
shower and the spiraling sensations. He loved the way Greg touched

him, held him. Anticipation made each touch a little more electric
tonight. An anticipation that after the fire, Charlie never expected to
have again.

Dunking his head to break his thoughts, he finished rinsing,

rubbing absently over his thigh as the heat helped it loosen. Even if

there  hadn’t  been  a  plan  for  tonight,  Greg  would  have  made  sure
Charlie  was  relaxed  and  cared  for.  No  one,  outside  of  his  own
family, had ever treated Charlie so well.

Which made him wonder just what Gregory was up to. Not

that he wasn’t thrilled that he’d decided to celebrate this as their
anniversary. The year before, neither had given much more than a

passing notice to the date, a kiss and a smile, really. They’d moved
and things were a wreck as the dust settled. There had also been

preparations for RJ’s and Julian’s commitment ceremony, and RJ
had asked Greg to stand as a witness. Greg was getting settled at the
university with his new position, and Charlie had been doing the

same with a load of classes to get his tech degree. Needless to say,
there hadn’t been time or opportunity to do something like this last
year.

Knowing Greg remembered to do it at all this year when

there was no precedent warmed Charlie throughout. He didn’t even

notice the change in temperature when he turned off the water
because of it.

With a final scrub over his head, he hung the towel over the

rod. He took a few minutes to brush his teeth and straighten his
hair.

In almost no time, he was dressed again in clean clothes, and

with his brace in place.

He walked out in time to catch Greg lighting the candles on

their table. “So romantic,” he teased. The cute bashfulness on Greg’s
face proved they were remembering the same quasi-argument over

just how romantic he was.

“Come here.” Gregory held out a hand and Charlie answered,

a moth to his own personal beam of bright light. And Greg was no

doubt  a  light  that  drew  him.  When  Charlie  had  least  expected  it,
Greg  had  jogged  into  his  life.  With  unfailing  friendship,  he  had
chipped  away  at  the  walls  Charlie  had  erected  to  guard  himself.

He’d wanted nothing to do with anyone since almost dying in the
fire that had destroyed his home. Their friendship had strengthened

into something Charlie had done his best to avoid.

Falling for the gorgeous man holding him close.
Greg’s hand weaved through damp strands. “Still no

regrets?”

Charlie studied him, pulled from his private musing by the

question. “No. Not one.”

Greg nodded once, an affirmation. “Good. Sit. Dinner is

ready.” A light kiss, a sweet sharing for the taking, then dinner was

served.

* * * *

Gregory had to practically sit on his hands to hide their

shaking as they ate dinner and talked over their day. This was a

ritual they had grown into, something Gregory had started doing
when they’d been rooming with RJ because it brought them closer.

Like a family. Like this was right.

He’d just never considered it happening with a guy. He’d

only dated women until Charlie. Enlightenment had hit like a two-

ton boulder. Or just a pair of green eyes that could stop his heart or
make him catch his breath, depending. He shifted on his chair and
the little square box in his pocket made itself known.

Like he could forget it was there.
“Are you okay, Greg?” Charlie took a drink of his tea to put

his glass down. He tilted his head, that stone green gaze covering
every inch, missing nothing.

“Yeah.” He placed his fork beside his plate. “Just something.”

“Greg, if you want the wine, go ahead,” Charlie said

knowingly. “I don’t mind if you have some. I can’t, that’s all.”

Gregory shook his head. “No. I didn’t even buy it. Professor

Abrahms gave it to me as a welcome gift last semester.” He reached
across the table and found Charlie’s hand, curling around it.

“Honestly, I don’t even miss it.”

“Then…what’s wrong?”
Gregory lifted his napkin and wiped his hands one last time,

positive they were as clammy as they felt to him. Recapturing
Charlie’s hand in his, he stood but didn’t let Charlie do more than
twist on his seat. He drew a steadying breath, fighting to calm a

racing heart. He’d only imagined doing this one other time, years
before.

Palming the box out of his pocket, he kept it hidden in

clutched fingers to then sink to a knee in front of Charlie.

“Gregory,” Charlie whispered, his eyes widening. A red flush

grew on his face, spurring Gregory to do this. Before he lost his
nerve.

“Today makes our second year, two years as my best friend

and so much more. Two years of some massive fuck-ups, from both
of us. Two fantastic years of having you in my life. I want every year

with you.” With his heart in his throat, he unclenched his hand,
holding it forward. “Open it, baby.”

“Greg.” Charlie sucked a breath, his eyes bright. He blinked,

a flutter of his eyelids to then swallow. Almost reverently, Charlie
plucked the box from Gregory’s palm.

The white gold bands blinked in the candlelight when he

opened it.

“I know we’ve never talked about it,” Gregory said, his voice

raw. He hated that he was too scared to seek Charlie’s gaze, to really

discover his feelings, instead staring at the black velvet cube in
Charlie’s caring hand. “I couldn’t get it out of my head after
standing for RJ and Julian last Christmas.” He finally stiffened his

spine and raised his chin. “Say something Charlie.”

“I’m in shock,” he managed. “I never thought…”
“Never thought or never dreamed?” Gregory prodded gently.

Charlie’s chin drooped, a twitch of his lips proving how well

Gregory knew him.

Cupping his face in tender hands, Gregory made him lift.

Moisture had pooled in his eyes, but didn’t fall. “Charles. My
Charlie. How could you think for an instant I would ever let you

go?” He steadied himself on two knees, leaning forward to kiss
quivering lips. “You said it yourself; you weren’t ever letting me go.
Well, sweetheart. You caught me. I want to marry you.”

“Laurence is going to scream like a girl,” Charlie teased,

running a thumb over the tops of the rings. He slipped one from its

trench and cupped Gregory’s hand. “With this ring, I thee wed.” It
slid cleanly over the knuckles. “I like how that sounds.”

“Yeah?” Gregory watched him. When Charlie offered the

ring’s mate, Gregory accepted it and still holding onto Charlie,
repeated him, gliding it onto his finger until it rested in place. “How
does that feel?”

“Like it’s supposed to be there.” Charlie sniffed and smiled.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there.”

Gregory’s breath whooshed out in relief. “God, I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Charlie met him when he neared for a kiss.

When Gregory went to tug the ring off, Charlie stopped him,

threading fingers through his. “Leave it. Whether it’s a production
or just family and friends, I’m yours from here on out. I like the idea
of that, of it being there.” Fingers clasped over his while heat flared

into being in his eyes. Mine. Gregory read it clearly.

Gregory scooted forward until he knelt between Charlie’s

splayed  thighs.  “Man,  Charlie.”  He  had  to  clear  his  throat  because
he  was  choking  up.  He  kissed  Charlie,  slow  and  thoroughly.
Somehow,  he  managed  to  plop  the  now  empty  ring  box  onto  the

table’s edge before he completely forgot about it. The ring was thick
and weighted on his hand. Gregory loved the sensation as he
moved, furrowing into Charlie’s hair to hold him for his possession.

The phone ringing interrupted them, breaking them apart to

catch their breaths. Neither moved, though, to answer it. Gregory

ran questing lips over Charlie’s jaw. The phone stopped ringing. The
important person in his life was in his arms. The rest could wait

their turn.

Firm fingers kneaded into his shoulders and back, obviously

no more concerned with whoever dared to intrude than Gregory

was. “Let me get Samson.” He stood slowly, easing Charlie up with
him, reluctant to stop kissing him. Greedy for them now that he had
his answer.

“I’ll get the dishes into the sink, at least.”
“Okay. Meet me in the bedroom. I have one more little

surprise.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Oh?” Greg was usually pretty ingenious

with his surprises.

“I’m not telling,” he answered with a devilish growl.

Chapter Two

Charlie quickly rinsed the dishes, his gaze sliding to the

silvery band on his finger every few seconds. His heart kicked and

danced in his chest when he did, as it glinted or rubbed against skin
unused to the smooth, metallic weight. Charlie was still floating in
the land of stunned-and-ecstatic.

Greg had popped the question. He’d never hoped for this. He

knew Greg had been raised straight. Since it had never been
brought up, Charlie had guessed it wasn’t something Greg would

feel comfortable enough to want with another man, no matter how
they felt.

God, but was he ever glad—again—to be proven wrong. The

clomp of yellow lab paws announced Samson was back on duty
inside the house, protecting them. He laughed at the idea as he

scratched at a jovial canine when he came to the kitchen, sniffing
for crumbs or lovin’. “Guard dog? More like oversized lap dog,” he
murmured kindly.

Charlie twisted, listening as faint strains of cello music filled

the house. A summer concert they’d gone to with Laurence and

Josh, and they’d fallen in love with the soloist. Memories they were
already making. Their memories. God, how he loved that.

He made sure the kitchen was fairly clean and blew out the

candles on the way past the table. Their house was probably half the
size of the one Greg had owned in Texas, but it had a pool and was
so close to the beach it was nearly sinful. But it wasn’t because it

took mere feet to clear one room to the next that he was stopped in
his tracks just inside the bedroom doorway.

Charlie’s breath left him in a throaty groan as he took in his

surprise. “Greg.”

“Dessert, for my love.” Greg waved a hand over his prone,

splayed body. A naked body covered in what looked to be chocolate
whipped cream. Little peaks and whips of decadence with a hint of
naughty where he’d hidden certain body parts with the treat. Greg

knew his weakness. Greg’s unique flavor plus one. He licked his
lips, hungry in a way that had nothing to do with the delicious meal

they’d just shared.

Better than Christmas. Charlie tore off his shirt, letting it fall

to the floor. “God, Greg. You’re gorgeous.” Heat and daring glowed

in  heavy-lidded  brown  eyes,  challenging  Charlie.  Charlie  crawled
onto  the  bed  and  bowed  his  head,  trailing  his  tongue  to  lap  at  a
stream  of  cream,  a  drip  of  chocolate.  He  moaned  as  sweetened

chocolate and Greg engulfed his taste buds. Greg shivered, a low-
graveled whine a different kind of music.

Charlie hummed, blowing lightly over the damp path. Greg

twitched, not quite a flinch but when teamed with a shiver, it was an

all over body reaction.

“Love that,” Charlie murmured. He rose up on stiff arms.

“Kiss me, sexy.” Greg cupped his head and brought him down,

meeting mouth to mouth. Heat surged when Greg swirled between
his teeth, tasting and savoring.

“Mm,” Charlie sighed when Greg let him go.

Gregory gazed into green eyes that melted him through.

“Come on, sweetheart. Eat me.” He nearly vibrated with how badly
he wanted Charlie’s mouth on him.

Lashes fluttered, arousal darkening those green depths and

making Charlie’s breathing shorten. Gregory wanted to flip them
both and ravage Charlie, but wanting more to make this something
special for Charlie kept him where he was on the bed. He knew how

much Charlie liked little surprises like this. Like the weekend they’d
spent playing with the body oils RJ had left them the night of

Laurence’s  and  Josh’s  wedding.  A  whole  weekend  in  bed.  Gregory
had  never  experienced  that  much  oral  adoration  in  his  life,  and
Charlie loved doing it.

Charlie had been right. The oils didn’t last forever. He’d

spotted the whipped cream at the grocery store and bought it before
the idea had even truly materialized, his first impulse to cover

Charlie in the cold sweetness. Now, watching Charlie use his tongue
with the finesse of a surgeon over his chest, this was the only

purpose for whipped cream from now on. He’d never look at his
mother’s pumpkin pie the same way again.

When Charlie reached his abdomen, Gregory raised his

upper body on propped elbows, following the man he loved as he
licked and sipped his way south. A short rasp of air hissed through
his teeth when Charlie nibbled around his belly button. Charlie’s

pleasure was evident in the smile and the quiet murmurs that
floated up to Gregory.

“That’s nice,” Gregory breathed, clutching at the blankets

beneath him. Charlie leveled a dark green eye at him, humor, lust
and need making them the stone green color that drew Gregory like

a magnet. Muscles trembled beneath skin where he nipped and
swirled, catching lingering drips.

Gregory swallowed the howl when Charlie took his aching

length between his lips, slurping at the whipped cream that

remained.

“God, that tastes amazing,” Charlie moaned. Then he dove,

engulfing every swollen inch. Gregory shouted, his head loose on
his neck with the shock. Sparks shot across his eyelids. They’d
slammed shut at the intensity of being enveloped by Charlie’s heat

after the cool wet of the whipped cream. The fluffy mound had
hidden his raging hard-on during Charlie’s clean up.

Gregory gave up trying to watch, collapsing limp to the bed.

The ceiling floated overhead. He panted, just trying to breathe
around the gasps and moans. Charlie’s tongue was pure

wickedness, laving and stroking. Rolling over his sac, to take flesh
into his mouth and play until Gregory shook.

He tossed on the bed, whimpering through Charlie’s name.

Charlie didn’t slow down, winding Gregory tighter and tighter,
dipping and teasing until he reached Gregory’s opening. Gregory
lifted his hips in a silent plea. Charlie answered by holding him in

tight hands, spreading his ass to dive deep into his cleft. The teasing
heat of Charlie’s tongue probed and licked. Gregory was going into

sensory overload.

“Charlie!” A rough chuckle was the only warning Gregory got

before Charlie shattered him.

Charlie licked his lips, tasting chocolate and a raw musk that

was all male, all Greg. His heart pounded a steadily increasing

rhythm as Greg’s whines and growls quickened. Gliding up his
frame, he purposely licked and nipped, knowing which places made

the man squirm. With a caging hold on Greg’s shaft, he lingered
over the sensitive skin of his armpit.

And sucked.

“Oh fuck!” Greg clawed into Charlie’s head, gripping him as

his entire body popped tight as an iron rod. Greg didn’t often give
himself over to Charlie like this, allowing Charlie to melt him into

the bed. Charlie didn’t mind. He loved Greg’s touch on his body.
But fair was fair. It made him happy driving Greg out of his mind.

And tonight was a night for happy.

“’s so good,” he croaked, short of breath, rocking his head on

the pillow as he sucked air like a freight train at full speed. “Please,

Charlie. Killing me.”

“Want you so much,” Charlie told him.

Greg nodded dazedly. “Need you.” He gyrated his hips,

rolling his spine as proof, pressing his pulsing length into Charlie’s

relentless grasp.

Charlie let him go just long enough to shimmy out of his

jeans and kick everything loose. The erratic rise and fall of Greg’s
chest only added to Charlie’s own needs, layering desire and hunger
within until he felt the wildness beating in his blood. A depth only

Greg had ever touched to breathe life into him.

He climbed onto the bed again, staring down at his cherished

features. “Love you so much,” he breathed over Greg’s lips.

Brown eyes cracked open, then he licked those tempting lips.

His entire body shook as emotion flooded his gaze. “Love you more

than I know how to say.”

Charlie let out a breath and Greg took it in. Then he kissed

him, slowly, delving and savoring the heat until Greg’s hands clung

and gripped at heated skin.

“Better fuck me, Charlie.”
Charlie knew that tone. “Oh?” he taunted tenderly.

“Or I’m going to throw you down on this bed and make you

scream for hours.”

Shivers rocked his frame. “How about you still do that after

you scream for me?”

Glistening eyes narrowed on him, challenged him, though it

was all in fun, a playing moment that they shared. “Make me.”

Charlie stifled the groan. It took him a second to be able to

speak, as hot as Greg was making him. “Turn. Over.” There was no

denying the command in those two words.

“Oh, fuck.” Greg trembled, his lashes lowering.

He also knew perfectly well how they got to Greg when he

was in this mood. Greg did as Charlie ordered, rubbing his aching
dick into the bed before Charlie swatted at his ass to make him stop.

Ensuring Greg was ready, he eased a finger, then two, into

his channel, listening as pressure and sensation turned his usually
eloquent lover into a babbling mess. Balancing his weight with his

braced leg, he glided forward, breaching Greg’s tight ass with a
groan of pleasure between them.

“Shit, Greg,” Charlie panted. He felt Greg undulate beneath

him, rising to meet his thrusts. There was nothing like this. They’d
forgone condoms after moving out of RJ’s, their commitment

already deeper than anything Charlie had ever known with any
other person. Tight, volcanic heat captured him. Greg’s hands

clawed into the bedding, swept along with Charlie as passion
consumed them both.

“Charlie!” Greg grunted, his body twisting, his shoulders

bunching.

Charlie increased his pace, slamming into Greg as the force

of his orgasm rolled over him in a rush. Wave after wave surged
through him, racing down his spine. “Fuck, Greg,” he choked, just

as his world vacuumed into a black expanse of pleasure and
endorphin-laced numb.

It was a monumental effort to open his eyes. Greg gasped for

air, pinned beneath him, both lying limp on the bed.

“God, Charlie,” Greg murmured, replete. “What you do to

me.”

Charlie tipped, kissing beneath Greg’s ear as he caught his

own breath. “Love you.”

Greg sighed. Charlie shifted enough to reach forward,

covering one of Greg’s hands to knit their fingers together. Simply
sharing space.

* * * *

Moonlight sliced the shadows of the bedroom with beams of

light. Charlie was asleep. A single strip of moonlight fell across a
shoulder, shadowing the edge of his jaw. Charlie didn’t shave every
day, and the proof of that was beginning to appear. Gregory loved to

run his lips over the raw coarseness. But for the moment he was
content to just look, just watch as his man slept.

Two years ago, he never would have considered the thought,

to be lying next to a man, admiring his uniqueness or feeling any
sense of affection for him. After two years together, Gregory was

beginning to understand where it had all fallen into place. It wasn’t
important now, but being able to see it in his past, through his
friends, through their relationships and their families, was at once

astounding and humbling.

To think they’d put up with him for so long. He smiled,

brushing light strands of hair off Charlie’s forehead. The motion

brought the ring he wore into the beam of light and he stilled,
struck by the symbol. Emotions clogged his chest and he drew a

slow breath to ease the weight. When he settled his arm around
Charlie’s body, drowsy eyes opened slightly, a soft smile on his lips.

“Hi.”

Gregory leaned close and kissed him. “Go back to sleep.”
Charlie nodded and tucked himself closer. Gregory watched

as his breathing evened out again. The ultimate trust. Knowing

About the Author

Diana DeRicci is the sexy, flirty pen name of Diana Castilleja. A

romance author at heart, DeRicci’s writing takes you into a saucier

spectrum of sensuality and sexual adventure, where a happily-ever-

after is still the key to any story. Diana lives in Central Texas with
her husband, one son and a feisty little Chihuahua named Rascal.

You can catch the latest news on all of Diana DeRicci’s writing and

books on her website Listed above. Feel free to drop Diana an

email. She’d love to hear from you.

Visit her online at:

www.DianaDeRicci.com

Find out more about Gregory and Charlie at

www.purplesword.com

by reading

The Charlie Factor

By Diana DeRicci

One, recovering from near deadly injuries; the other,

unaware of what he’s been missing in his life. What one man can

do, may heal them both.

Charlie Baker is recovering, slowly. Nearly dying tends to

make a man reflect on each day. Take into account that his injuries

were caused by a premeditated murder attempt, and he certainly
isn’t looking for a lover. He is barely welcoming to a friend unable
to trust anyone, preferring to hide from the world hours and miles

away from the memories.

Gregory Anders hadn’t intended to disturb the man in silent

contemplation on the beach, but when his pup, Samson, takes
matters out of his hands, he’s forced to at least apologize for his
pet’s behavior. There’s no doubt for Gregory that Charlie could use

a friend. Clearing the air up front that he isn’t gay helps Charlie to
relax, allowing for the cautious beginning of a friendship.

Two men, both alone, for different reasons. What happens

when friendship bears more? When support and affection turns
into attraction?

Do you take the chance of a lifetime, for the love a lifetime?