Just to remind you ? David was 19 and he lived with his younger sister, a smothering mother and a rather authoritarian father in the apartment upstairs. He was about 5? 8?, slightly built and his eyes, as I recall, were greyish-blue. He was a studious type, bright and articulate and he always had neat, gelled hair ? except on the occasion when his mates dumped him, drunk, on my doorstep that night! But that?s the earlier story. This is a few months later.

In the meantime, David and I had become friends. After I gave him refuge on the night of his Birthday, he eventually wheedled out of me what had happened and that seemed to give him the courage to start confiding in me. First, if he passed through the car park when I was cleaning the car, he would hang around, just making conversation. Then he began dropping-in on me in the apartment whenever he could ? often late in the evening on his way home from a night out. It was all quite platonic and ?proper? and I gave him coffee and we talked about all sorts of stuff. I effectively became a kind of unofficial counsellor for him.

One of the good things that seemed to have come from these chats was his increasing confidence and independence from his overbearing parents. After his Birthday, when he was out all night for the first time in his life (his parents never knew that he spent the night zonked-out out on my bed, thank goodness!) they questioned him less and less about his comings and goings and seemed to give him more freedom to be the young man that he was. And a gorgeous young man he was too! Every time he came around, I couldn?t stop from remembering my having to pull his trousers off his drunk and sleeping body; and his lovely tight black underpants (with the white trim and piping!) ? and all the rest. But I digress??..

I suppose he must have known that I had grown quite fond of him but I couldn?t quite figure-out why he liked spending so much time with me until I got him onto the subject of sex one night. My suspicions proved right. He knew that I was gay right from the outset; so did his parents, because I had been fairly open about my erstwhile partner, now long gone, but it was only now that David admitted that he was gay too. Actually, the words he used were, ?I think I might be gay.? Yeah, well! The trouble was he wasn?t sure because, although he had never had any interest in girls, his only ?relationship? was with this other lad, Gavin, who sounded to me pretty messed-up and who was driving David up the wall!

David was besotted with Gavin though. Gavin was ?Mr Wonderful?, in every respect. He had been his best friend at school and they had spent a lot of time together, in class, at each other?s homes, in each other?s room?s, etc. They had ?messed around?, as David so coyly put it, but had not ?done anything serious?. The reason for that was not because of any reluctance on David?s part but because Gavin wasn?t sure. According to David, Gavin wasn?t sure about himself; he wasn?t sure what he was and he wasn?t sure what he wanted; in fact, although I had never met Gavin, from what David told me about him, there didn?t seem to me to be a whole lot Gavin was sure about! He wasn?t doing David any good, that?s for sure, but like a good counsellor, I didn?t say this to David. But I did encourage David to keep questioning what he was doing and whether it was getting him anywhere.

Eventually, David resolved to have it out (so to speak) with Gavin, once and for all, and to tell him that he had to make up his mind if he wanted to continue his relationship with David. If so, it was going to have to involve ?doing sex properly?, Sikiş hikayeleri as David so quaintly put it. David rang me on his mobile earlier in the evening to say he was going over to see Gavin (again) and that he expected tonight to be the dénouement and ?can I come round later to tell you how it went??.
?Of course,? I said.
By 11.30, I figured they were probably ?doing sex properly?, to use David?s words, so I went to bed. The doorbell rang about 11.45 and I threw on my dressing-gown and answered the door to find David standing there, looking forlorn and with blood-shot eyes. I suspected he?d been crying.
At this point, I should mention that we had not been particularly tactile in our friendship up to now. Once the G-word had been discussed, David had taken to hugging me affectionately when I answered my front door to him but that was as far as it had gone. So I was a little taken by surprise when, as soon as the door was closed, he threw his arms around me and burst into tears!

?I?ve lost him!? he sobbed into my dressing-gown, ?He?s gone for good now! What am I going to do??

Now, I don?t wear pyjamas to bed and I?m ashamed to say that I already had a hard-on under my dressing-gown and I was desperate that he shouldn?t find out, so I managed to pull him away from me and I steered him into the bedroom, as the rest of the apartment was in darkness and the heating was off. I sat him on the bed, gave him a box of tissues and let him calm down enough to start telling me what had happened. Well yes, I knew what had happened but that?s what you do, don?t you, at times like this!

After he calmed down a bit and the tears began to dry up, I made coffee and we sat on the bed for nearly an hour, with poor David recounting (for the umpteenth time) every detail his life-story with Gavin, interrupted with bouts of tears and sobbing and more tissues, until, when he had just about exhausted his supply of tears, he said,

?Can I stay with you tonight? I can?t go home now and risk waking Mum