What's gotten into me? Davy shifted and squirmed around, ill at ease. What in hell was he going to do with these uncomfortable, foreign feelings he'd been fighting?

At first it had horrified him. But now he was just tired of living with it. Tired of waiting for it to fade, weary of its constant presence hanging over his head. Evidently, it was here to stay.

Davy sat at the park bench, the early summer sun agreeably warming him clear down to his bones. He was watching the other three band members kicking a soccer ball around. They'd made him take a time-out, as he was quicker and more athletic than the rest of them, and combined with being naturally competitive, tended to dominate the ball.

He studied them all. Mike, tall, dark, with big sideburns, almost painfully stick thin, yet showing real promise for the day when he would finally fill out. Quiet, reserved most of the time, yet very witty with a sarcastic, dry sense of humor. A practical guy and the go-to guy if you had a problem. Mike kept you grounded.

Micky, having a decent looking body, hair that just couldn't be completely tamed, and although he was still no match for Davy, faster on his feet than Mike. Micky was restless and high energy. He just vibrated with unbridled vigor. Fun loving often to the point of being so silly he was hard to control. You always had fun when you were with Micky, provided you were in the mood for his antics. Both guys taller than average. Both pleasant looking, attractive guys, depending on your taste. But they were just guys.

And then there was Peter. Peter was in a category all by himself. At least that's how Davy saw it. An Adonis. In Davy's eyes, that just what he was. That body had nothing wrong with it. Peter defined the sun. From the blonde hair with natural highlights caused by so much time outdoors, that shimmered like a mirror, along with its easy way of flowing around, often falling into his eyes-and his leanly muscled arms, flat stomach, sexy chest, large hands with long fingers, to his nicely shaped thighs-all of it. Not to mention his eyes. An ever-changing hazel that went from amber to brown, and sometimes even to a hint of green with the changing light and Peter's moods. He was even the perfect height-5 foot ten. The total package.

Davy had spent countless hours studying Peter in all his many environments. He couldn't help it after all-they lived together. At work, at play, when sleeping. Davy's opinion never changed. Peter was perfect. And not only in looks. Peter's temperament was pristine. Forever sanguine, cheerful, upbeat and ready for any adventure you might suggest. His emotions ran high, his sensitivity almost matching a female's delicate sensibilities. That last trait was his only drawback. And even that wasn't really a drawback, because it added a rare, gentle element.

And this sensitivity was one of the biggest things that set him apart from most men. His intuition and tenderness caused just about everyone he met to love him. If not love him, then to at least admire and covet his innocent nature, his sincerity. Peter found it impossible not to be honest and open. In truth, he really didn't know how. Perhaps it had never occurred to him to be less than forthright in everything, except when it came to hurting someone's feelings, and then he shifted smoothly into his kindness mode.

When had all this begun? Davy couldn't put a timetable on it. Things had evolved so slowly that Davy had been mostly unaware of it until recently. The last couple of months, he guessed. Before that, he'd thought (or maybe fooled himself into thinking) that he simply admired Peter. Besides, there was a lot to admire. His rare, extensive musical ability, his patience, his understanding, his intelligence, and his good looks -put them all together and stir well and you have perfection. There that word was again-perfection.

Davy was sick to death of trying to analyze why he felt so strongly about Peter. He'd seen plenty of good looking guys in his life, but one more thing... none of them had Peter's heart.

Something had been simmering under the surface for much longer than a few months, if Davy were to be frank with himself. An eerie foreshadow had been looming ...keeping Davy aware and snugly in its clutches.

Davy was slowly and painfully realizing things -against his will. He didn't want to think about it. But when something or someone occupies a big chunk of your free time with visions of beauty and sweetness, it isn't easy to ignore. And that happened to sum Peter up-beauty and sweetness...and heart.

He'd discovered that to push away, pull away or walk away (metaphorically) didn't last long. New thoughts always intruded. All of the same flavor. And it all came down to the same thing in the end-Forbidden.

That night Davy went to bed around eleven. Peter had gone to bed maybe half an hour before. A subtle summer breeze was whispering through the open window, the curtain fluttering gently as Davy passed by Peter's bed.

Peter's warm, masculine scent drifted gently up to Davy's nostrils and it affected him like a punch in the gut, making him weak in the knees. He edged by Peter's bed much more closely than was necessary, even brushing against it unintentionally with his shin. He felt intoxicated. Bloody hell, but Peter was sexy. Even down to his smell.

Davy loved girls. Had since he was very young. They were so different from boys. They despised dirt, they were squeamish about spiders, they screamed when the slightest bit spooked, they enjoyed dressing up and trying on shoes, they loved experimenting with make-up. They spoke a whole different language, one example being they used the word "cute" a lot, and boys almost never did. They hated violence of any kind, and dreamed of romance. They were soft and sweet.

Davy loved all this about girls. He loved spending time with them. He loved kissing them too. He loved making love to them. He loved holding them and whispering into their ears, making them giggle. He knew all the tricks. Things of that nature had come to him easily. He'd picked it right up-just what to say to a girl, and how to act like a gentleman. The fact that girls gravitated to him because of his looks boosted his confidence even more.

But what befuddled him was when he was in Peter's vicinity, all this was forgotten. Peter, for some odd reason, was beginning to bewitch him. And the awareness ate at him. Sometimes his insides felt shredded from all the stewing about it. Davy... the guy who was always known as the "ladies man" was enchanted with a golden Adonis. And no one but he knew about it.

Davy was becoming more disturbed and annoyed by these feelings by the day. Even frightened. It wasn't supposed to be like this, was it? In all his twenty-one years he'd never felt this type of attraction toward another guy. And worse, there wasn't one person he could talk to about it. He felt completely drained by it.

Peter, except for his sensitivity, was so unlike a girl, it wasn't even funny. His voice was low-low enough that he sang bass. He had a hairy chest, he was distinctly masculine. He had no fear at all of spiders. He even picked them up without a second thought. He loved action movies, sports and fast cars just like any other guy. He drank beer just like the other three. In most ways he was exactly like the other band members, aside from the unusual sensitivity, and, yes, he did occasionally utter the word "cute." But, hey, everyone has little quirks.

So...why in the world would Davy be attracted to him?

Pure-nothing and no one was pure anymore, aside from children and animals. But Peter was an exception. Was that what was attracting Davy? No... not in and of itself. It was the combination of all Peter's traits that must be breaking down Davy's resistance.

Peter being fresh, and seemingly unmarked as yet by the cold reality of life fascinated Davy. How it was possible, Davy didn't know, but Peter seemed to skip through life without a care. He did cry at sad movies, he did like to hug Davy when he was happy about something, and he did snuggle a bit too much on the couch when watching a movie, but otherwise, Peter could be just another guy on the street that Davy wouldn't look twice at.

Then there was Peter's attitude toward life that was so refreshing, reflected Davy. He put others before himself without exception. He had empathy as well as compassion. And Davy simply found that attractive.

But even all of that wasn't the whole story. The sexual component was what bothered Davy the most. Guys weren't supposed to find other guys sexy. But too often Davy would find his eyes wandering to various parts of Peter's body and just marveling...wondering what it would be like to touch him. Other than a hug or a slight snuggle, that is. And Peter's body was so completely different from a girl's body. So no wonder none of this made a lick of sense to Davy.

Then there was the dimple that was just devastating. When Peter smiled shyly about something, Davy felt a strange pull in his chest. Something he couldn't put a name to.

Well, one thing was for certain. Davy's brain was sore from all the scrutinizing. He didn't wanna think about it any more. He just wanted to relax and watch the guys and let the sun keep warming his insides. The same sun that kept glinting off Peter's glorious blonde hair...

Yeah, Peter reminded him of the sun, radiating his golden warmth on everything in his path.

Davy wanted to run and hide. Hide from Peter. He wanted to be the way he used to be. He wanted to be like the other three-looking at girls, flirting with them and dating them. Davy had been the greatest lover of the four of them. He had a reputation to uphold not only among the other band members, but also friends and family. He had always been the proverbial Romeo of the group.

Girls threw themselves at him, when the telephone would ring, everyone first assumed it would be for Davy. Girls would approach him in nightclubs and ask him to dance almost as often as he asked them. They got carried away too. On the dance floor they'd try to unbutton his shirt, rub up against him, suggest they go outside for some "fresh air" which was only a euphemism for kissing. Along the way, they would play games. The age old games that males and females played, whether animal or human. He saw right through them, knew all their tricks. It got old-and not a bit challenging. He was, in a word, weary of girls.

Peter, on the other hand, was uncomplicated. Even though he'd never even hinted at being attracted to Davy, at least Davy knew Peter was up front. He wasn't fickle like those girls were. With Peter, you knew where you stood. He was refreshing in his innocent harmlessness. And Davy respected him for his honest nature.

Right now, and often enough lately, Davy almost felt like an eunuch. As far as girls went, that is. But with Peter, that inner fire seemed to blaze anew and hot, even after girls had stomped it out with their silliness and obvious overtures. A smoldering ember was all it took for Peter to start a wildfire in Davy again. And this was without even doing a thing but to be himself.

It wasn't natural, and it wasn't right. Those words kept repeating themselves in Davy's brain. He guessed he'd have to talk to Peter sometime soon. But what in holy hell would he say? This was some heavy stuff. I want you? Let me kiss you, hold you, see if this is what I truly want? See if you want me too? Get it out of my system so I can go on with my life?

"David?"

Davy started. Peter was awake.

"Hey, Pete. Thought you were asleep."

"Something hit my bed and woke me up."

"Sorry 'bout that. I cut it too close on my way by." Sounded lame, but it was true. Cut it too close because he'd been trying to get as close to Peter as possible.

"Is something bothering you?" asked Peter.

Davy unconsciously stiffened. "Why do you ask that?"

"You were quiet at the park today. And every time I looked over there, you were staring at me."

"Oh...um...I guess I was just kind of spacing out."

"I got the feeling that you wanted to talk to me about something."

Davy cleared his throat and fidgeted as he sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Well, actually... I do." Davy felt light headed. There-he'd said it. Now he'd have to follow up on it.

He gulped. Peter waited. A couple of minutes must have passed. Peter continued to watch Davy carefully. Davy was uncharacteristically tense. Peter picked up on it instantly. The vibrations were so strong it almost made his teeth rattle.

"Um... I know someone who I think I have feelings for..." Davy trailed off, not knowing how to complete the thought. Peter waited, and when Davy said nothing further, he got an uneasy feeling that Davy was experiencing a lot of angst. It lingered in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Well, you've been in that situation before, and you always just start flirting with the girl. You've done it so many times, I don't see why this time is a problem."

Well, of course Peter thought Davy was talking about a girl. Never in a million lifetimes would he suspect Davy was attracted to him.

"Its not that easy..."

"Oh... I see... this girl is really special, then?"

"Uh, yeah. Its hard to talk to this ...girl."

"Why? You've always been able to strike up a conversation with girls. I've seen you talk about things I'd never think of, like the weather, or breeds of dogs, or what color to paint a house, or..."

"Peter, I get that. But this time... well... the circumstances are a bit different." A bit different? Understatement of the century! thought Davy.

"You can't come up with anything to talk about?" Peter was incredulous. He'd never seen Davy fail to jump on a chance to make a move on a pretty girl. And one of his strategies was to find something he had in common with the girl. From there, things usually flowed smoothly.

Davy was smooth, period, thought Peter. Smooth as a river rock. He'd always admired Davy for the way he charmed the women. Even envied him. He was so professional and meticulate about romance. He had it down to a science. Peter had never seen Davy show discomfort in that area. Boy, he's really hung up on this one!

"David, you've coached me in the past. The least I can do is return the favor."

Davy smiled slightly to himself. Yeah, right, he thought. Davy remembered all the times Peter had sought his advice on how to approach a girl. And how frustrated Davy had been at times when Peter would lose his nerve at the last second. He'd open his mouth to say something, and just freeze up. Well, now Davy had sympathy for Peter, because that's just how he felt right now.

Ironic, wasn't it? Peter wanted to help him out, yet he was the one person who couldn't. Davy was going to have to handle this alone. And that meant facing Peter and telling him...

"Peter, this... girl... is different. Its delicate."

"You're in love with her?"

"Well, no...not exactly. I just don't have the courage to tell her... I feel something for her."

"I don't understand, David. Always before you just started talking, and things just happened."

Davy realized he was going to get nowhere. Peter couldn't be expected to understand how this was different from all the other times. Not unless he knew it was him that Davy was referring to. And he just could not bring himself to tell Peter he was lusting after him, or whatever it was he was feeling.

"Pete, I just can't talk about it with you. Its just too personal."

The hurt sliced through Peter like a cold, hard blade of steel. He and Davy were close friends, and had been for quite a while. They'd been through adventures as well as some trying times together. Lean times when they were struggling to find work. Close times when they had shared laughs and all sorts of fun together as well as Mike and Micky. He and Davy shared a bedroom, so they were closer to each other than they were to the others, and knew practically everything about each other, down to toothpaste brands. They'd been there to support each other when things went wrong, whether it was romance or music.

He'd thought Davy trusted him. And now Davy was turning away from him. Not accepting his help, when Davy had helped him out more times than he could count. Why wouldn't Davy confide in him? Peter had poured his heart out to Davy on all too many occasions. Didn't Davy trust him or respect his advice enough to ask for it?

Peter wasn't as savvy with girls as Davy. That much was a given. But all the times Peter had opened himself up enough to let Davy guide him...it meant a lot to him, and he wanted to give something back.

Davy got into bed. "Night, Pete," he mumbled.

Peter just stared into space. He was sure Davy had no idea how badly he'd just hurt him...