Some of you may have met Tom and Andrew in Phrases and Vignettes: Loving the Towers. I loved the guys so much, I wanted to tell their story...BUT

WARNING: This story features gay lovers and a graphic sexual encounter. If this may offend you, please skip to the next story.

Either way, Thanks for Reading. Luv Ya's CGC _________________________________________________________

Tom Sabat was a young, proud, gay man, and a well-known advocate in the LGBT community. It didn't hurt that he was very attractive and the son of a wealthy habitue of Crestfield society. He was also a miserably lonely guy. He didn't "cruise" and was not into casual sex. He very rarely picked up a companion, and never allowed himself to fall prey to a pretty face or well-formed body.

Out on the town this evening, Tom was sitting at the bar in an upscale restaurant in the better section of Crestfield. Anyone who looked would see a slim, physically fit, nattily-clad young gentleman, replete in three-piece suit and power tie, with manicured nails, and wavy hair perfectly in place. Without slouching, he managed to look like a tired professional, after-work casual, and very alone.

He sipped slowly at a faux cocktail. He drank moderately when it was expected socially, (...or he was in the mood...) but detested drunks. He would never allow himself to be, or even perceived to be, drunk in public.

Spotting an acquaintance in the mirror behind the bar, he spun his stool around and waved casually at the guy, Andrew Daynon, his family's neighbor to the West. "C'mon. I'll buy you a drink." He didn't see many of the Daynons among the hoi-polloi in town like this. Andrew nodded, looked around uncertainly and decided to take Tom up on his offer. Tom wasn't stupid. (... He doesn't want to be seen drinking with a well-known "homo"...)

"How are you, Tom?"

"I'm great, Mr. Daynon."

"Andrew, please..."

"Andrew..." Tom smiled softly and held up two fingers to the bartender. The bartender showed up with a refill for Tom and a bourbon neat for Andrew. Tom noted that Andrew evidently had had a drink here before. Andrew threw his bourbon back and waved a finger at the keep. Another bourbon appeared, and this time, the bottle stayed, as well. Andrew murmured, "Thanks, Joey." One of Tom's brows arched momentarily at this, but he made no comment.

Andrew noticed Tom not noticing and advised, "Rough day." He sipped his new bourbon a little more slowly, and setting his drink on the bar, twisted the glass around a couple times. Tom locked eyes with Andrew in the bar mirror. No words were exchanged, but they both offered an empathetic solace to the guy in the mirror. Tom saluted Andrew with his drink and dropped his eyes to the bar.

On impulse, Tom asked, "Have you eaten, sir?" Andrew faux-frowned. "Have you eaten... Andrew?"

"Nah...Let's get a table. My treat."

"I invited you."

"Who's the rich dude here? Let me waste some of my family's filthy lucre." He seemed almost bitter. Tom conceded gracefully and slid off his stool and stood waiting while Andrew gathered up his glass and the bottle. A hostess appeared beside them and escorted them to a very nice and very secluded table. "Thank you, Angela." (...Tom noted, "More than just a regular."...)

Andrew quickly perused the menu and using his considerable knowledge of the food and the way it was prepped, ordered for both of them, . "I believe you'll enjoy the things I've selected for you. They all go quite well with booze. And I cheated...I've seen some of your preferences when you're at the house." He paused a moment and, leaning toward Tom, added, "I haven't seen you at the house lately. Is something wrong?"

"No, sir...Andrew. I've been busy with the promotion of the municipal work non-discrimination edict. This is the first time I've been out of the office before 6:00 or 7:00 for the last couple of weeks." Andrew nodded slowly and offered a lop-sided rueful smile. Tom smiled softly and nodded as well.

The meal appeared, and Andrew thanked the server, who evidently was "Walter." (...Damn, he must live in here...) Tom was impressed with the selection and the quality of the food. He relished the dishes Andrew had ordered for him for a couple moments before commenting, "You're a great cook!" He grinned and chewing, nodded in real appreciation. "Thank you!"

Andrew nodded a cocked head and accepted the "compliment" with good humor. Tom noticed that Andrew had slowed pouring down his bourbon and was gratified thinking that perhaps his good company may have helped Andrew's mood. He offered Andrew a sweet smile, hoping that maybe he was a good example if nothing else.

A guy approached the table and spoke quietly to Andrew. Andrew barely looked up and shook his head. Realizing he seemed pretty rude, he glanced at Tom and gave the guy a gentle smile. "David, I'd like you to meet Tom Sabat, my neighbor. Tom, this is David Whitfield, a good friend." Tom stood and offered his hand. It was then that he recognized David (...one of the proponents working to pass the edict...) Suddenly several incongruities jumped into sharp clarity. "How do you do, David?" They shook quickly, David having known Tom by name. Tom added, "Nice to finally meet you."

"You, too." David turned to Andrew. "I'll see you some other time?" Andrew nodded and smiled.

Tom leaned across the table. "If I'm way off the mark here, please forgive me. Andrew, are you gay?" Andrew blushed.

"You're not off the mark. I'm off the mark. I'm, as the vernacular goes, still "in the closet." He glanced at the bar, where David had parked himself. "David is one of the few 'friends' I have. He doesn't impose, but he keeps me company on occasion or offers comfort when I really need it." Andrew's eyes moistened. "If I wasn't enjoying my time with you, I would probably have taken him up on his invitation tonight."

He placed his napkin on the table, bringing his hand close to Tom's. Tom slid his hand the few inches between them, and laying his hand on top of Andrew's, squeezed his fingers gently. Andrew glanced up at Tom's face and saw nothing but sympathy and warmth in his eyes. "Tom, don't..."

"I don't do this as some sort sympathetic gesture. I do this because I like you, and I can see you're hurting." He drew his hand back to his lap and carefully folded his napkin and lay it on the table. "If I'm not being too forward, would you accept comfort from me?"

"Tom, I'm flattered. I'd...Oh, God, yes!" He stared into Tom's eyes with such gratitude and affection that Tom blushed. He added, "May I get us a room?"

"How about I take you home...to my place?" Andrew drew in a ragged breath and looked absolutely overcome.

"Tom, that's too much. I didn't mean to put you in this position."

"I'm always in this position." He stared directly into Andrew's eyes. "I don't mean that I frequently pick up dates. I don't. But I'm always alone. I rarely have an opportunity to spend time with a good-looking man who doesn't have an agenda...A man that I already find attractive...A man I would like to see as a fixture in my future...Andrew, I'm asking you to please spend the night with me."

Andrew could only blink. "Thank you, Tom."