Tris

sigh!

For me, this chapter is like a mirror. I am a little like Ethan, and a Certain Someone in my life is, well, I think of him as my kryptonite. And so, like Ethan, I feel as though I must protect myself, and in doing so I am afraid that I'm causing my Certain Someone pain, which in turn causes him to withdraw from me so he can protect himself as well. The cycles of attraction and withdrawal can be agonizing. And so in those moments when a physical relationship between us is taken off the table and we can be "just friends", life can be blissful - almost. The problem comes in finding a balance between not having enough of each other, and having me burned like a moth in the flame. Comicality, you are a Master!

I'm relatively new to GA, and even newer to the idea of reading westerns. I'll have to get used to the "cowboy speak," which could be fun - and I'll have to rely on the Author regarding authenticity on matters of syntax as well as vocab (I have no way to judge otherwise, frankly). Looking over the comments, it's good to see some familiar names, even from as far afield as Ravello and the Amalfi coast - literally half a world away from our present setting. Seems we have some broad-minded readers among us, eh? I'm glad to be along for the ride, and in such good company.

I had to laugh out loud at the line about caressing each other's penis orally. That one is priceless! But I don't think I'd use that phrase on my Main Man. Just not his style, I don't think. Nor mine, for that matter. Still funny, though! And, I'm with Ross Davidson - I'm into gentle, happy chapters. Thanks for the respite.

So glad I stuck with this story. Over the first couple of chapters I kept wondering to myself, Why am I continuing reading this? And then, almost without warning, I realized that I had become so invested with Ridley and Gabe that I couldn't put it down. I echo so many of the wishes for a sequel, but I realize that one cannot force The Muses. Not being a writer myself, I could not presume to try pushing an author into much of anything. So I simply render thanks for having been graced with your gifts.

Chapter 5 was a struggle, and I still haven't dealt fully with Chapter 6. I find the entire story compelling, but my own shortcomings (OK, I'll confess here: I'm a wuss) have made all this very difficult. In Real Life, I all-too-often encounter what I'll call Raw Realities. Even as a kid, I had trouble dealing with the animated monsters brought to us by Disney, and it appears I haven't gotten much better at this sort of thing despite the passage of years. Perhaps I'm too sensitive. Be that as it may, I really, Really, REALLY like what our fearless author is up to here, and I thank him profusely for the warnings.

Very glad to find yet another story here where God and religion are not just storyline props when a whipping boy is needed. Steven might not realize it, but there are myriads of reasons why someone would find their way to "the church." Myself, I was more religious than my parents, though my parents were less bewildered / reluctant than Steven's mom. But I first went to church as a kid because of friends. Then I stayed because of the music (I sang in the junior choir). Then it was because I had a crush on the son of the minister (no, I never acted on my crush ... and we are still in touch, decades later). The church I'm now involved in (and yes, I sing in the choir) doesn't make an issue of people like me and Giorgio and Steven. This was a very refreshing read.

It took me only a few paragraphs to realize that this story was hitting close to home. Very close. Exceptionally close. The details, of course, have been altered to protect the Innocent, as the saying goes. But, I'm still stunned. I once opined that patterns in the universe inevitably begin to repeat themselves. After all, there are probably a finite number of "templates" the Creator can use as the millennia unfold. I just hope that He will mercifully spare all of us the dimension of dementia (no, I'm not trying to be alliterative) as our lives progress.

I have been among you all for such a short time, so it's silly for me to try and guess. I came to GA via the Amalfi coast and the good offices of James Carnarvon. For the longest time, he was the only author I'd read ... till I realized that Comicality (whom I "met" on Nifty years before) was an author here. Ditto Geron Kees, whom I first encountered thanks to IOMFATS. I've maybe read a dozen authors on this site, and can't even remember most of them, my sorry memory being what it is. So to guess is impossible, at least for the likes of me to "participate" in this contest, which I've only recently stumbled upon. Still, I'm quite curious, and look forward to the Big Reveal 🙂

Bellissime!

I cannot begin to fathom my reactions, which come from so many different levels. My grandfather was a Frenchman who fought in the trenches of La Guerre de Quatorze, as it is still known. Though an American, I grew up speaking French and have spent so much time among Canadians, both francophone and anglophone. So even without the Gay Dimension I found so many points of contact here. But so much of that borders on The Incidental, for it is the talent of the author that brings Reality to life. Thank you!

I can't believe I haven't done something like this 😉

I keep forgetting that Pete and Ant are relatively young (I'm old enough to be their grandfather). Given their relative restraint sexually speaking, that makes them even more amazing. To be sure, life shared between two gay men is hardly ever 100% about sex ... though I love the line "Just that alone almost makes it worth being gay." Too funny ... too true 🙂

I can see why Pete has the hots for Ant ... I would too! But poor RB - I figured there was something somewhat unusual about him, and now that the cause for this has been made a bit more clear, one cannot entirely blame him for the havoc he has caused - malicious though it seemed at first. I'm trying not to excuse RB, but such an explanation puts a differing complexion on the matter. Oh - and a shout-out to Pete: if you ever dump Ant, feel free to send him my way 😉

Ummm ... am I clairvoyant? 🕵️‍♂️

Oh, my! What tangled webs we weave. I will keep reading because of Ant+Pete. My personal point of preference would be to leave Cathy and her brother in the rearview mirror, though. Still, this is not a story that I am writing. So I will defer to the Author, whom I definitely enjoy - he's too good. I'm glad I gave this story a Go.

I, for one, also like your stories, Mr. Wilson - though I've just become acquainted with you, and with them. And, I'm with Dan South: I've got a Thang for Ant already *blush* ... I'm rootin' forya, Ant! Go get 'im, tiger! I suspect you and our Fearless Hero need each other ;-)

I have never been homeless, and wouldn't even begin to equate any of my experiences to such a situation. But the opening paragraphs describing the guests coming in to avail themselves of the services provided at The Boot caused my mind to drift back several decades to when I was a "guest" at a men's dormitory created in a closed CofE building in London (I want to say it was St. Anne's, but it was so long ago, and I don't known enough about London except to recall it was near St. James' Park). Guests were limited to a stay of three nights before having to move on. Of course, that was not enough time for me to get to know anyone at "St. Anne's" even though, through a series of odd circumstances, I ended up staying there for seven days. I was grateful for being allowed to crash there for the extra time, moving through a constantly changing cloud of guests. Reflecting on my stay at the time, I realized that if the church of "St. Anne" had not closed down, people like me - and others who were much worse off than I would ever be - had shelter provided to us not unlike manna from heaven. I was vaguely aware that it was more than a building, however, that came to my rescue. Someone in charge had to approve that I could stay more than the maximum three days. There had to be people to clean the toilets, wash out the lavatories, prepare and serve the oatmeal, secure the building 24/7, change the bedding linens, and so on. As a 26-year-old at the time, my consciousness was only marginal regarding such things. I guess one could say I took many such things for granted, except for knowing that The Church was somehow behind a lot of what was made possible. This story helped create a context for me concerning a situation I was only dimly aware of at the time. And while I am no longer as clueless as I was decades ago, I'm still somewhat naive about, well, just about everything - not just homelessness.

Umm ... I still think they are both ghosts. Beautiful tale.

f*ckin' A!

Touchingly beautiful - reminds me of what-could-have-been *sigh*

So different from some of your other writings. At first, I wasn't sure that this tale would be my cup of tea. But I was so wrong. This was an amazing read - I am in AWE of your talents and insights. My profound thanks. Kudos!

Breathtaking! Thank you!

It has been quite a while since I wrote to you. And it's the first time that I've done so on GA. I used to seek out your stories (usually under No Sex) because I had no idea how like minded guys came to meet each other "successfully." Well, that boat (for me) sailed a long time ago. But the topic still fascinates me - as do your stories. You are a Master story-teller. And what you write is so true-to-life. This story here has encapsulated, in one place, a number of episodes from my own life, especially one from a dance floor encounter (no, it was not my birthday) at a gay club - and I have no idea how I summoned the courage to walk in there! I never found out the guy's name, unless he whispered it to me and I forgot it long, long ago. But you brought back beautiful memories of a handsome guy who looked at me and (against the odds - I'm no hottie) liked what he saw. Thanks for helping me retrieve something I had lost of my past.

Bellissimo!