The Best of Friends---(Rated PG)---

[zion_chubby14]

Hey everyone. This is probably my first story posted on this site. I hope you enjoy it. It may be a bit graphic and it has obscene language in it, but it only gets the point across. Enjoy!


t of Friends
Written by zion_chubby
Email: zion_chubby14@yahoo.com



There was a song I remember from one of my favorite movies that always stuck in my head. I always think of this song whenever something gets me down. Now, after going through what I went through, I am glad I know it.

Let me explain. It all started when I was in high school. I was an outcast-type of person. Never really fit in anywhere, never really had a group of friends that I called my own. The friends I did have were too busy fitting in with their little groups to ever consider me for anything. But it wasn't their fault. I usually kept to myself.
School was a bitch, but then again, what isn't. I got decent grades and never got into trouble with the faculty. I got beat up a lot, for reasons that will be explained in a bit. The scars go away and I continue to live life. I feel sorry for those who cannot understand people not like themselves.
Why was I beaten up? Why was I not liked by people? There were many reasons. One reason could be that I was fat. I weighed 275 pounds when I turned 15. I wasn't athletic, nor clumsy. I was fat since the first day I was born. I was just fat me, and someone people didn't really understand that about me.
Another reason might have been that I was gay, but how could they know that I was gay? Because I started dating two people who go to school with me in my freshman year, and word spread to all the homophobes. Why don't people understand how I live my life is my choice?
And another reason why I got beat up was because I wasn't Catholic. See, I went to a Catholic school. And with me being gay and non-Catholic was enough to get me beaten up a lot. So, there you go.
There are plenty of reasons I got beaten up. I touched something of theirs, I tried talking to someone within their group, or I breathed. Any of these reasons could give them reason to hurt me. And I took every punch, every kick, and every bloody lip, black eye, and swollen bruises. Hell, I could have been a boxer with as much damage I could take.

OK, I know what you are thinking. 'Why did you take so much punishment for being different?' 'There had to be other fat people in that school.' 'Why didn't your parents do anything about your bruises?' All good questions and points to make. But why are you asking all these questions? I have a story I'm trying to tell and you won't let me continue.
Let's start with the first question: "Why did you take so much punishment for being different?" The reason for taking every blow was because if I fought back and retaliated, I would be like them; hurtful, hating, and uncaring of others. That is the person I just refuse to be.
Next point: "There had to be other fat people in that school." That is a good point. And there were a lot. At least 24 percent of the school's population were considered overweight, faculty included. Why I chosen as the fat kid to beat up? Well, if you add the other reasons with me being fat (and the random fact that they all went "eenie, meenie, mynie, mo" when choosing the fat kid beat down), that is why.
And the last question: "Why didn't your parents do anything?" That is a good question. They saw me with constant black eyes, bloody noses, and horrible bruises every day. The reason they did nothing was because they died the day I told them I was gay.

When I came out to them that Saturday morning, they refused to believe that their son was, quote “a ****ing faggot." Needless to say, I was hurt and crushed that they didn't understand. I ran out of the house and headed towards my favorite spot to relax, the park. There, I pulled out my cell phone, called my closest friend, James, and told him what happened. He understood and came by to help me out.
James was a cool person. One of my friends I had who I knew still cared. He hung out with people who hated me, but still was there for me to help me out with it all. He was a tall, blonde-haired young man, about 30 pounds lighter than me and dressed a lot better than me. We were the same height, around 5', 11". He wasn't a clumsy fatty either. He enjoyed food, but not as much as I did. Besides, most of his body was muscle, so his body type fit him more than it did mine.
He came by with Alex, another friend of ours, and they consoled me as I explained to them the events that had gone down. Alex, who fit in with the more popular kids, was less understanding than James, but still cared enough to be my friend. He was a short, skinny, muscular, brown-haired kid, about 5'8" and 135 pounds. In fact, he has been at plenty of my beat downs. He sat back with a guilty "I'm sorry" look in his eyes. I knew he cared, because not once at any beatings did he throw a single punch.
They sat down at the picnic table I was at and I cried my eyes out.
"It's going to be okay, Mike," James said as he placed his hand on my shoulders. "You hear me? It's going to be okay."
"Yeah, Mike," Alex spoke up. “Regardless of what your parents have said, they still love you and will always love you."
"You should have heard them, though," I said, tears streaming down my chubby face. "They didn't sound like my parents. They sounded like those people who are angry at the mayor for putting in a bowling alley where the recreation center should be."
"Mike, you have to think," James said as he sat down next to me, "you told them you were gay. You might have crushed their dreams they had for you, in their eyes. You have to understand how they feel."
"Yeah, Mike. How would you react if your only son had come up to you and told you that he was gay?"
"I guess I see your point," I said, not crying as hard as I did. "But they hurt my feelings when they called me a fricking faggot."
"That is understandable," James said. "That is a hurtful term. It would hurt anyone who heard that being said."
We sat at the park bench for the good part of the day. They did a lot to cheer me up. After we talked at the park, James and Alex treated me to a movie and lunch. That day was fun after that horrible morning.
When we finally got done hanging out, I went home to see how my parents were holding up. I was still nervous about how they would react. I knew they loved me, and I loved them.
When I came up to my house, I noticed a bunch of cop cars around my house and the neighborhood surrounding the area. I wondered what was going on. I ran up to our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Harrisson, and asked her. She looked at me with shock and happiness, but there was sadness in her eyes.
"Oh, praise him. Praise him for sparing you," Mrs. Harrisson said as she grabbed me and drew me closer.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't say, Michael. You are going to have to ask the police. Oh, dear."
I walked through the crowd up to the barricade the police set up. There, I saw the police all gathered around their cars.
"Excuse me, can I get through?"
"Sorry, kid," one officer told me. "This place is off-limits to citizens. This is a crime scene."
"But this is my house."
"This is your house?"
"Yes, this is my home. Please, let me through."
"Where have you been, kid?"
"I was out with friends. What is going on?"
"Can I get a detective over here, now?!?"
I was now in a panic. What is going on? I was very uneasy and very anxious. I wanted to run into my house and find out for myself. But then, I looked over and seen an older detective walking towards me. Right behind him, I saw a van with "Coroner" written on the side. My heart dropped.
"Sonny, is your name Michael Franks?"
"Yes, who are you?"
"My name is Detective Harold Daim of the Oakdale Police Department," the older officer replied to me. "You say this is your house?"
"Yes, sir. What's going on?"
"Can you please tell me where you were today from 10:42 a.m. to 3:28 p.m.?"
"I was out with some friends. There was an argument that my parents and I had and I walked out. I went to the park where my friends came by and talked. We talked for a while and then we saw a movie and grabbed some lunch."
"At anytime did you come back home for anything?"
"No, I was out the entire day," I said to the detective. "What is this all about?"
"Son, would you mind step towards my car? You will want to sit down for this."
The officer led me to his police car, where he opened the door and sat me down. My anxiety levels are now off the charts. I was freaking out.
"Now, son, I know this is very hard for you to understand. There is a lot going on right now, but you need to relax."
"Just tell me what is going on?"
"Son. Your parents are...your parents have been killed."
What?
"Son, did you hear me?"
"Yes, sir." I couldn't believe it.
"Son, we need you to come with us down to the station."
"What for?"
"We need a statement from you about what you did."
"Are you suggesting that I killed this?"
"Not at all. We need to account for your whereabouts for our investigation,"

After hours of me writing what I did that day and worrying about what is going to happen to myself, I finally got some answers, three days later. Apparently, two robbers had been scoping my place out for a while. Not knowing if my folks were home or not, they decided to break in and clean the place out. But they found my parents there and decided to hold them hostage until they collected all that they could. Having stolen everything of value, the two thieves decided, since they were in so much trouble already, to murder my parents and make it look like a murder-suicide. It failed miserably as they were caught pawning illegal goods to an undercover agent hours later, bloody weapons still with them. They confessed about robbing my place and killing my folks.
So, having captured my killers, I was left with the fact that I am all alone. I had no one to take me in. I was close to sixteen years old and had no one to take care of me.
"Son is it alright if I ask you a few questions?" the detective asked me.
"I guess," my voice was cracking. I have been crying ever since I arrived at the station. I stayed there while I got some answers.
"I know you have been through a lot these past few days, but I am wondering about a few things."
"You can ask me."
"Great. Now, did you know about your father's business or anything about the family's financial situation?"
"No, I never was interested in that."
"So, you never heard of your father doing something for you for school or anything like that?"
"No, sir."
"How about your mother? Did she do anything for you for school?"
"No, sir. They were too busy with work to talk to me."
"I see."
"Is that bad?"
"No, not at all." He had a bewildered look on his face. "Now, it seems like they left a number here for their lawyer. Let's see if we can get her on the phone, ok?"
We dialed the number of my parents' lawyer, Julia Denton. After numerous secretaries, we finally reached her.
"Hello, Miss Denton."
"Mrs. Denton," she said with a snooty accent.
"Sorry, Mrs. Denton. This is Detective Harold Daim of the Oakdale Police Department, and I am in the middle of an investigation, is it alright if I ask you a few questions?"
"Certainly, officer, but I don't think I can help."
"Why is that, Mrs. Denton?"
"Any information I might give you might be grounds for a lawsuit against your department."
"I understand. This investigation involves a Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Franks."
"Ah, Mr. Franks is a client of mine. I handled their last will and testament."
"I know. Well, you see, Mrs. Denton--"
"Please, call me Julia."
"Very well. Julia, it seems that your clients were murdered today in their home, and in the middle of their case, I stumbled upon some interesting documents."
"I see."
"I also have their son with me and we're both wondering about these documents."
"Sure, I can answer anything."
"Is it alright if we come to your office to get some answers?"
"Certainly."
"Great, thanks for your cooperation."
The officer hung up the phone and led me to his car one more time. On our way to my parents' lawyer’s office, we started to talk about some things that my parents and I used to do. I kind of knew what he was trying to do, but I didn't think he would ask until...
"So Mike, I was just wondering. You said that the day your folks died, you all had an argument before you left the house. What did you and your parents argue about that morning?"
"I rather not say, sir."
"Why not?"
"It's sort of personal."
"I see. Well, I can keep a secret."
"Well, we were arguing about me. I-I-I told them I was gay."
"Oh." He fell silent. I knew I shouldn't have told him.
"How did they take it?"
"Not so good. That is why I stormed out of my house."
"I see. Well, there's nothing wrong with being gay. Homosexuality is becoming one of those things that you see nowadays. Hell, I have a son that's gay."
"Really? How did you take it?"
"Well, at first, not so well. I loved my son. I never knew he was gay. So when he told me, I was hurt. But after a few days of thinking about, I realized that he is my son. I love him no matter what."
Hearing him say that made me think of what James and Alex told me. They were right. They would love me no matter what.
"I tell you what. After this, why don't you, after this little business here, come over to my house for dinner? You can meet my son and we can have some good country cooking. How does that sound?"
Honestly, I wanted to be alone after all this, but it sounds like something better than waiting around at the police station.
"OK."
"Great. And hey, looks like we're here."
We headed inside her office, where she was waiting nervously for our arrival.
"Thank you for meeting us, Mrs. Denton."
"Please, Julia. I hate formalities. Have a seat."
"Thank you, Julia."
"Now, what sort of documents are we confused about, Detective?"
"Well, I received some financial records that have been relayed through your office about some insurance policies."
"Ah, those were going to be left to Michael here in case something happened to them."
"Really? The policy in the amount for one million dollars?"
"And the other one set in the amount for five hundred thousand dollars."
Wait, what is going on?
"So both parents had life insurance policies on both of them for a combined one and a half million to be paid to their son?"
"That's correct. They were most adamant about setting that up for him."
"And what about funeral costs, and where he is going to live?"
"Ah, that is what I wanted to talk to you about here. I looked through their wills and found some things that might shed some confusion."
What now? I can't take much more of this.
"From your father's will, Michael, it seems he was very trusting of you to keep his home where it has been. So he is leaving you the house."
"I don't want it."
"I understand. Detective, if you want, I can give you the number of the bank for the house."
"OK."
"Also from your dad, he left you his investments and the remainder of his savings: $243,736."
I was about to have a heart attack.
"From your mother's will, she left you the remainder of her savings: $314,185, along with her investments and a sealed envelope for you, Michael."
"So let me get this straight. Not only did his parents leave him checks for 1.5 million, they left him their savings and their investments?"
"Yes. They knew that somehow, they believed Michael was the sole person that they trusted with their possessions."
"That is amazing."
"Can I have that envelope, please?"
"Sure, Michael. Detective, why don't we give him a few minutes to himself. It looks like it has been too much for him."
They got up from their chairs and left the room, closing the door behind them. I looked around at all the documents and saw that she was telling the truth. I had just received two million dollars from my parents. And I was holding onto an envelope from my mom.
I tore open the end and took out what seemed to be a letter. I sat down and started to read it.


'Dear Michael,
If you are reading this, then I am sorry your father and I left you. I know you are sad, my dear, but you will be happy again. I can promise you that.
I have some things that I cannot say in person to you. For one, I know you were gay. I have known for years now. I also know that you have been confused and worried about how to tell us. You father will be mad at you, but he knows that you are still you, no matter what. He loves you with all his heart.
You may have found out about the life insurance policy on us and about the money we left you. That is for you to have as a gift from us. May you enjoy it for the rest of your life.
Your father wants you to keep the house, but I don't expect you to keep it. I figured it would be too much to live in that house and not be lonely. I set up an account in your name at the bank so you can sell the house and live wherever you please.
Lastly, I want you to be happy, my dear Michael. Be happy for us, and for yourself.
Love you always,
Mom.'

I cried so hard. Mom knew. And they did all of this for me. After 20 minutes of crying, I wiped my eyes of the tears and told the detective and Mrs. Denton to come back in.
"Now, in terms of your parents' funeral arrangements, everything has been set up with the Good Communal Funeral Home, down on Baker Drive. No need for payments or anything. D you know where that is?"
"I know where that is."
"Good. Any other questions, Detective?"
"No, I think we got that all situated. Any questions, Michael?"
"No."
"Good. Well, thank you for coming in. You two have a good day."
We left her office and got back into his car. We were silent about halfway through the trip when he asked me something.
"Do you still want to come over for dinner, Michael?"
"Yes, I think that sounds great."

[zion_chubby14]

Well, to make a long story short, which seems a bit redundant at the moment, I sold my parents' house after their funeral, got through high school, and started to live my new life with my new apartment and a new beginning. But two years after that whole mess, I still was not happy. I was alone. I was by myself. I wanted to find myself someone I can be happy with.
I started hitting up some gay clubs. The people who were there seem to look at me with some sort of distain. I was still me. Maybe I wasn't right for them.
One Monday afternoon, I decided to call on Quentin, the detective's son, and asked him what I should look for in a guy. After the dinner at Detective Daim's house, Quentin and I became fast friends. He started introducing me to his friends and I did the same. I finally was accepted through school because of him. And he even convinced his dad to let me stay there with them.
Quentin was skinny, about 140 pounds. I never particularly like his red hair and quirky effeminate personality, but he was fun to hang out with. While I was the bulk of all fatness, he was one of the finest sculpted men on the planet. He worked out a lot, which he tried to make me go but refused, and he maintained his looks.

"Well, I can't answer that completely for you, Michael," he told me on the phone. "But what I can say is that you are going to the wrong places."
"Really? What places should I go?"
"Well, try going to some leather bars. A lot of guys go to places like that for hunky men like yourself."
"I'm not hunky, Quentin. I'm flabby, if anything."
"Exactly. Most of those bars are filled with guys who like the flabby hunks."
"Wow. Really?"
"Trust me; I've been to them all. Why don't I take you out tonight to some places I know. You might find someone there."
"Great. Sounds good."
"Cool. Pick you up at seven. Later!"
"Later."

Well, that night did not go well at all. I met a few guys, who were only interested in feeling me up half the night and didn't care a single thing I said. I felt like a piece of meat compared to the rest of the guys out there. I guess clubbing never really worked for me. It seems like you get drunk and try to hook up with people only for a quick one night stand in those places.
I went home that night hoping that tomorrow might be different. I got undressed, put of some sweats and a t-shirt, and grabbed some leftover Chinese I had ordered the previous night. I felt like nothing was going to work out. I sat down in a comfy chair and turned on Sports Center.
Then I noticed the message on my answering machine. I rarely gave up my number to anyone except my friends. I reached over to the machine and pressed the play button.

"Hey, Michael. It's James. I am calling to say that Alex and I are coming up to visit you for the weekend. I know it's spontaneous but we had some free time from work and thought to pay you a visit. See you this Friday!"

I couldn't believe it. James is coming up with Alex this Friday? I thought, God, I haven't seen those two in a while. I rarely get a chance to see them after high school. They went to work for their dad's after high school and I never got a chance to see them before I moved to the city.
I picked up the phone, but stopped in the middle of dialing Quentin's number. I knew he would be busy with whatever meathead he picked up at one of the clubs. I put the phone back on the receiver and decided to get a shower. I couldn't sleep and that seemed like the best thing to do at the time.

The next day, I dial Quentin's number hoping he would at least be awake, but got his voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message, knowing that he wouldn't answer me anyways.
I fixed myself a quick breakfast, and was just going to sit down, when the phone rang. Maybe by some weird coincidence it was Quentin returning my call. I picked up the phone, pushed the talk button, and said, "Hello?"
"Hey, Mikey! It's me, James."
"Hey, James," I was amazed he called, knowing I was going to see him this weekend. "Wow, it's been forever since we talked."
"Yeah, I know. I am sorry if this is short notice, but we left a message on your machine. Did you get it?"
"Yeah, I did. Of course you guys can come and visit. I'm so alone in this loft and having no one to share it with. Having you two here might cheer me up."
"Great. Well, we'll be in Friday night, ok?"
"Cool. See you then."
"Cool. I got to go, Mike."
"Ok, see you this weekend."
"Yeah, dude. Later!"

I thought the goose bumps would never go away. I was so nervous all through the week. I picked up some killer movies, plus some old ones that we might make fun of. I also picked up some snacks and restocked my fridge with good food, pizza, and beer. I was set for this weekend.
Soon, I thought about places we could hang out at. I thought about some cool things to do around the city and just be three guys chilling out. I could not wait anymore for them to come.
But the more I thought about them coming here, the more I thought about why I was so excited for them. Why am I working myself to death trying to give their weekend the best one they ever had? Was I that lonely? Did I miss them that much? Those thoughts plagued me for the majority of the Thursday.
Then I received a call from Quentin wondering if I needed another "cheer-up night," as he put it for me.
"Nah, I'm okay. I have some old friends coming in this weekend," I told him.
"That's cool, buddy. Maybe you can throw one crazy loft party and I can invite some people."
"Sounds like fun, but I am going to have to pass. Maybe next weekend we can throw it."
"OK. I hope you have fun. And please promise me that after they leave this weekend, you will find a man. I can't stand to see you mope around the clubs."
"I'll try," I said, as passively as I could without him noticing. Suddenly I heard my call waiting beep in my ear. "Hey, I'll call you later, ok?"
"Sure, buddy. Later!"
I clicked to the other line. "Hello?"
"Hey, Mikey!"
"Hey, James. Ready for this weekend? I hope you and Alex will have fun."
"That's the reason I called. Alex can't make it up this weekend. He has to work for a sick co-worker of his and cannot make the trip."
"Bummer," I said, worried that the trip would be canceled.
"Not to worry, though. He said that he'll make it up when he could some other time. So, is it still cool for me to come up?"
"Sure. Like I said before, it's been so long since we all hung out. Of course you can come up."
"Great. How about we meet up for lunch?"
"Lunch? I thought you weren't coming until later that night."
"I got the whole weekend off and I'll be driving through the night. So, I will be at your place at 11."
"Oh, that's cool. See you then."
"Cool. Catch ya later!"
My body started to shake. Tomorrow? This is going to drive me crazy, waiting for him. I started to dance around my apartment like a little school ballerina. Then I stopped in front of the mirror. I worried about what he'll think of what I looked like. I haven't changed. I was still 275 pounds, close to 300. My appearance really didn't change. What is he going to think of me, the flabby boy from back home? I tried to shake it off and go to bed, but my dreams all floated that very question all through the night.

[zion_chubby14]

BZZ! BZZ!

I awoke to my door buzzer, blaring loudly through my place. I glanced over at my clock. 10:34 am. It couldn't be him, he's early. I got up, grabbed a robe and threw it on me, and walked to the door.
"Yeah, who is it?" I turned the locks and opened the door.
"Guess who?" I saw an obese young man with his arms extended, open for a hug. He's wearing a worn denim jacket with a shirt reading "Parking in Rear Not Included" that strained behind the large stomach that pushed forward underneath. His jeans were faded with numerous holes around his knees. He had a dusty blonde head of curly hair and a smile to make you think of naughty things. The subtle double chin growing underneath his goatee seemed like he did enjoy his meals.
"James?"
"Who's else, man?" the man said as he went to hug me. My amazement was blinded by this weird person before me. "How ya been?"
"Great, you?"
"Ah, a little tired, but alright. You wouldn't believe the traffic this morning. I had to take the back roads to get to the interstate and the streets this morning were packed."
"Yeah, they can be busy," I said, still trying to figure out who this man is. I led him to my living room and sat him down on my large sofa. He sat down with a thump and I swear I heard the frame of the sofa groan under his weight.
"How in the hell do you manage to get around here?"
"Most of where I go is within walking distance. So I walk. But usually get rides and that."
"Killer."
I still was confused. It sounded like James, but my memory of him did not match this fellow in my apartment.
"I don't look like what you remember, do I?" he asked with a big smile on his face.
"What? Of course you do."
"No, I see that look in your eyes. You are wondering who this person is."
He's got me there about that. I nodded in submission.
"I knew it. It's me, James. I know I look different. My appearance took a turn for the worse. My hair acquired that Jew curl from my mom's side. And my dad, thinking I needed to bulk up some more than I did, forced me to eat more. Turned me into a fat man with a purpose. I lost all my muscle and gained all this fat."
I looked at his large gut that he patted with his hand and agreed with him whole-heartedly.
"Ever since you left, my weight has gone up. I can't stop eating unless I get real full, so I hope you got enough food."
"I can always order out if I run out."
"Looks like you haven't lost that high school weight."
"No, I haven't," I replied, placing my hand on my round, but smaller belly.
"Speaking of lunch, are we getting some grub?" He sat up and looked mighty hungry.
"Sure, but aren't you tired from your trip?"
"Nah, I've been up since 5 and left early."
"OK, how about some pizza?"
"Sounds good. And I'll pay. I know you still got a lot of your parent's money, but it's my treat," he said, acting all insistent about the deal.
"Great. Let me garb a quick shower and we'll head out," I said as I walked towards my bedroom. "There are some drinks and snacks in the fridge if you want some."
"Thanks. Hey, where's my room?"
"I have a room set up by the bathroom for you. Follow me."
I led him to a small room near the corner of my apartment. I was using it as a closet for my things, but turned it into a guestroom days before he arrived. The bed looked small, compared to his size.
"Bathroom is across the hall if you need to use it. And my room is next to that," I said, not noticing what I said until it slipped out.
"That's cool. Thanks."
I guess I dodged the bullet on that one. He went inside his room and placed his large duffel bag on the bed. I watched as he took of his jacket and laid it on the bed. I saw how big he really was from the side. He must have weighed around 350 by the look of his stomach, even for a chubby teen before. I thought to myself, 'Damn he must've ate like hell when I left.'
I walked into my room and grabbed some jeans and some underwear and walked into the bathroom. As I passed his room again, he was shirtless, the rolls of fat that just fell out from his body. The signs of stretch marks on his large gut were definitely noticeable. I've never been so amazed about anyone before. I looked up at his face and I quickly looked away. I was so embarrassed.
"You like what you see?" he asked, posing, as I started to stumble around to the bathroom.
"I w-was jus-just uh, uh, uh, checking out the uh..."
"It's okay. I get a lot of looks from people. And I know you're gay, so I'm cool with you checking me out."
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be gawking at you like that."
"Dude, it's okay. I've gained weight. I'm a fat man."
"I know, but......I got to grab a shower."
I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I couldn't believe what I did. Looking down, I noticed the little erection coming from my pants. Holy crap, did he just give me that? I quickly jumped into the shower and began thinking of something else.
After my shower, I walked out into the living room with my shirt in my hand and saw him, still shirtless, sitting on the couch, looking through the movies I had gotten for us to watch. He turned and looked at me.
"Looks good on you," he said as he glared at my belly. Hurriedly, I threw on the shirt.
"Sorry, force of habit."
"That's cool. I was looking at your movies. You got some good ones. 'Lord of the Rings,' 'Eagle Eye,' and even 'The Dark Knight.' Why did you get 'The Fox and The Hound?’?”
"I thought we could just watch it and make fun of it, kind of like we did a few years ago."
"Oh, cool. Sounds like fun."
I grabbed my wallet and keys from where I put them and started to put my shoes on. He got up and threw on his shirt he was wearing.
"So where's this pizza place we going to?"
"It's just around the corner. It's a nice pizzeria I meet some friends at, besides the coffee shop down the street."
"Sounds cool. Ready to go?"
"You bet."
We walked out the door and showed him the elevator I use. He seemed happy about that. We walked down the street and I showed him the block around my apartment and showed him the coffee house I go to. After sightseeing a bit, we arrived at the pizzeria. We sat down at a nearby table and waited for our waiter to come along. He got out his wallet and got out a few pictures of him and Alex hanging out after high school. Alex looked the same; lean and muscular.
"Yeah, he hasn't changed a bit. He wanted to let you know that he is sorry for not coming this time."
"That's alright. I might stop in town sometime next week and see everybody there."
"Great. Detective Daim would like to see you, too."
"Really?"
"Yeah, he said he helped you out when your 'rents died. Ever since you left, he left the force and became a friendly guy around town. He knew us by what you told him and started helping us out if we needed anything. He misses you, though."
"Well, his son, Quentin and I became friends he introduced us, and he let me live at house until I graduated when I live there."
"Cool. Sounds like you miss him, too."
"I do, but Quentin keeps me informed about how he's doing."
"That's cool."
We talked small talk throughout the meal. In between the talking, I took small glances at him and how he ate. He was an eating pro. I forgot about how much he ate until the bill came around. We went through 4 8-sliced pizzas ourselves before we stopped. I barely ate four slices, compared to his 28.
All I heard on the way back to my apartment was him burping and groaning. I never thought I would have heard him groan about food before. And again, I got a little surprise because of him. We got in my place and took our shoes off.
"How about we relax and watch a few movies before dinner?"
"Sounds like a plan," he said as he hurled him on the couch.
"Great. Why don't you put something in while I changed into something comfortable?"
I went into my room and changed into some sweat pants and an old t-shirt I had. I walked out to sleep "The Fox and the Hound" on the screen. I sat down on the couch next to him, not noticing the beer had gotten in his right hand.
As the movie went on, I noticed his head was resting on my lap. I figured he thought it was a pillow. I blew it off and continued to watch the movie.
When the part where Big Mama started to sing "The Best of Friends," I noticed a big smile on his face. I place my hand on his shoulder. He looked at me with that smile on his face and turned on his back. He reached his arm under my shirt and started to rub my chubby belly.
"What are you doing?" I asked as I pulled away.
"What? I thought you might like a belly rub."
"But, dude, you're my best friend."
"I know. But I figured you might need a relaxing rub."
"I don't need a rub." I paused the movie and got up hurriedly. I looked down and saw my dick getting hard.
"Please, listen to me, Michael."
"No, you don't understand."
"Yes, I do. I'm falling in love with you."
What?
"I was a friend to you back in high school, but I started to miss with you when you left for the city. I missed you so much that I couldn't stop thinking about you. I even admitted to myself that I loved you."
"What are you saying? You gay?"
"Well, yeah. I knew that when you told you're parents that day, you were looking for the right guy. And since we hung out a lot, I thought it was someone like me."
"I liked you as a friend, but I never pictured you as gay, and never as you for as 'the right guy.'"
"C'mon, you like big guys, right? Why else would you react the way you did earlier?"
"I was just--"
"I was aroused by how much I gained. I saw it. I turned into a gainer because of you, not because of my dad. My dad left my mom after you left."
"Sorry to hear that, but a gainer?"
"I gained weighed because I knew you liked big guys. I gained 75 pounds for you. I weigh 343 now. And with me chubby back in high school, I thought that is what you like."
"I-I-I don't know..."
"C'mon, Michael. Please say something."
My mind was racing with what he was saying. I couldn't believe it. And as he continued on, I was getting hornier about it by the minute. I couldn't face it anymore. I looked at him and started to give him a big kiss.
Surprised by what I was doing, he started to kiss back. We knew what we were doing. Our tongues seemed to be all over both of our mouths. We only stopped for only a minute.
"Wow!" was all he said.
"I cannot believe I just did that." Shock was not the only thing I was feeling at that moment.
"You liked it and you know it."
"Shut up and kiss me again."
We continued to kiss as we stumbled around the living room. I stopped and took off his small t-shirt had on. I looked more closely at his large stomach. It was covered with light hairs, and seemed to just fall over his waistband. His pecs were massive. A well endowed woman would be jealous over his moobs.
I grabbed his left tit and began to suck on it. He became more aroused as I licked down to his navel. I stuck my whole tongue in and was surprised about how deep it was. I got up and led him to the couch. There, he grabbed me by the waist of my jeans and drew me closer. He reached under my small gut, undid my pants and pulled them to the floor, leaving my half naked from the waist down. I took off my shirt and lean forward a bit. He drew me in closer and took my hardened dick in his mouth. I began to **** him in his mouth. Never feeling this good before, I tried to give him something to remember. With my left hand on his bobbling head, I led my right down to his back and started to rub it gently.
As I started to sense myself approaching climax, I took out my dick and jacked off in front of his face. The jism went all over his face like water being sprayed from a hose. I stood there for a moment, and then led him to my room. He followed, shirtless and struggling to undo his pants.
I threw him on the bed, and started to remove his pants for him. I pulled them off of him and threw them halfway across my room. I saw his little member rising to attention as he laid there waiting. I lay by him and kissed him again, his face smelling of my jizz. I love it and started to kiss every ounce of fat on him. From the chubby cheeks to his large belly, I kissed him all over. I stopped right above his dick, and then I went for it. I started licking his member from tip all the way down his shaft. He was in ecstasy, writhing with every erotic moment that passed.
I took his member and swallow almost the whole thing. I gave the best blowjob I could give. About five minutes in, I knew he was ready to cum, so I stopped, allowed him to jerk off the last few seconds of his climax.

We sat on the living room floor, naked and loving it, my head on his gut. I sang to him the song from "The Fox and the Hound," improvising the words to fit the moment.

When you're the best of friends
Sharing all that love together
You're not even aware
You're such a loving pair
You the best of friends

After we cuddled for a while longer, I decided to make a large dinner for the both of us. He never left my side as he stood behind me, naked, with his arms wrapped around my bare waist, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. Though I struggled to maintain my composure, we ate dinner like two fat men would at a buffet.
We went into my room again, after dinner, and decided to seal the deal. I lifted his legs over my shoulders and put the head of my hardened dick right by the crack of his ass. Slowly, I inserted my dick into his ass. His body stiffened as he moaned in erotic pleasure. I continued to **** him in his ass until I couldn't take it anymore and cummed all over his huge bloated belly.
Then, after lowering his legs and letting him breathe, I turned around and lowered my ass onto his still erect penis. I let him **** me like I allowed anyone before. I even let him cum inside me. I didn't care at that moment. I was in heaven. I got off him, and we cuddled in my bed for the remainder of the evening.
The next morning, we decided to call up Alex and see what he was doing
"Hey, man. Sorry I didn't come up there," he said.
"It's okay. We are having fun for all three of USS!" I yelled as James decided to feel me up during our conversation.
"It sounds like it. Is James there now?"
"Yeah, let me put him on," I said as I handed the phone over to the playful love machine.
"Hey, man."
I couldn't hear and Alex was saying but I could guess.
"Hey, dude. Your mom wants you to call home. Something about your plans for this weekend?"
"I will later. Dude, I am in love with him."
"I kind of knew that you would do this, and that's cool. It's cool to hear you two finally happy again. Especially you, James."
"Why me? I haven't been mopey."
"Bullshit. You have been mopey since he left. No wonder you gained all that weight."
"Shut up, dude."
"Anyways, I'll try to be up there to visit Michael next week. Can you tell him?"
"I'll let him kno-o-o-o-ow!" he screamed as I decided to grab his jiggly ass as revenge.
"Be careful, you two."
"We will. Later!"
"Later."
James hung up the phone and pulled me back into his room. We made out again before heading to the coffee shop to meet Quentin.

[zion_chubby14]

Quentin saw the happiness in my eyes as soon as we walked through the door, completely oblivious to James altogether.
"I knew it. You met someone. Was it that guy who was grinding against you last week?"
"No, Quentin, it wasn't him. That guy was only grinding up against me as a way to get to the other guy next to me," I said, as James looked suspicious at me.
"Guys grinding up against you?" he asked jokingly.
"Shut up, dude."
"Who is this?" Quentin asked, now just noticing James next to me.
"Oh, this is James, one of my friends back home."
"Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," James said as they shaked each other's hand.
"So who was it?" Quentin asked as he went back to his nosy ways. "Was it that guy who pleaded for you to dance with him?"
"No, that one was pathetic. He only wanted to embarrass me on the dance floor and make me cry so he could sleep with me."
"Then who is it?"
"Him," I said, pointing at James, who smiled and waved.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. That's cool."
There was a long pause after that moment, but the three of us started talking again about things in general. I looked over at James, who was trying his hardest not to squeeze my ass that was waiting for him.
We left the coffee house a little bit after one and went back to my place. We cuddled some more, once again naked on the couch and just talked for a while before I ordered Chinese for dinner. I ordered double so that we could try and feed each other. Oh, what a night that was.
Through the night, I knew that our time was winding down. James would have to leave for home. But to me, without James here with me, I would never feel at home. I realized by how much we had enjoyed ourselves this past two days. I mean, I had maintained a life without him, but I wasn't happy until he came and visited me.
That Sunday, we both felt gloomy. I stood by his doorway while he packed his belongings into his large duffel bag. I knew he would leave, but I wanted him to stay so badly. While he was packing up, I went into the living room, grabbed my phone, and dialed his house number. Hopefully, his mom would understand how he meant to me.
"Hello?" she said as she picked up the phone.
"Hi, Mrs. Hill?"
"Yes, is this Michael Franks, the boy that James used to be friends with?"
"Yes, that's me."
"Oh, I am glad to hear from you. James has been talking about you ever since you left for the city."
"Yeah, he's up here now. We were just getting things set for his return trip back to Oakdale."
"Oh, that's nice. I hope he had fun."
"Mrs. Hill, I was just wondering something."
"Yes, Michael?"
"Did James ever say how much he wanted me there with him?"
"All the time. He even worked up the courage to admit he was a homosexual and said it was because of you."
"Oh, he did?"
"Dear, it's not a big deal. You two were really close. I knew that somehow that you and him would be stuck together like glue. I wanted him to be happy no matter what he did."
"That's really nice to hear."
"Anytime, dear."
"Oh, wait, Mrs. Hill. There was something I wanted to ask."
"Go ahead."
"I know that he said he was going back. Is it alright if he stayed up here to live with me?"
"I don't know. I know he has some work he has to do down here."
"I have the rooms he needs and I know some people who would love to have him work for them."
"I still don't know. Tell you what. He can stay another week and I'll think about it. I'll call his work and say he's been sick with the flu. If I think that he would be alright living up there, then I'll give the okay for you and him to live together."
"Really?"
"You bet, Michael."
"Aww, thanks, Mrs. Hill!" I wanted to give her a hug right at that moment.
"Promise me that if I allow him up there, you will take good care of my boy."
"Oh, I guarantee it, Mrs. Hill."
"Ok, is James there?"
"Yeah, hold on," I said as I put the phone down on the table. "James, you mom wants to talk to you!"
I heard him thumping as he walked into the room. "I didn't hear the phone ring."
"I called her up. She has something to tell you."
He looked at me all confused and bent over to pick up the phone. I ran into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of wine I have been saving for special occasions. I grabbed two wine glasses and carried it all into the room.
I walked up next to him. I looked at his face and saw the excitement that I had. I wanted to hug him like I did her. He hung up the phone and turned to me.
"She said I could stay here for another week, and if she thought about it, maybe I could stay here to live with you."
"I think a little bubbly juice is in order," I said as I uncorked the bottle. James grabbed the glasses and held them so I could pour us good wine.
We held our glasses high and said a toast, "To us. May we be together till the end of time." We sipped the wine and swallowed. Then, we kissed each other and hugged. Now I was happy.


After that week, James' mom gave her permission and he did move up here. Alex helped move the remainder of his things up here. He wasn't surprised to see me and James head-over-heels in love with each other, and was glad to hear I was happy again.
As Alex brought in James' stuff, I whispered into James' ear, "We should find Alex some man to be with." James started to laugh as Alex shot a nasty glance at both of us.
"Ha ha. Very funny. I have a girlfriend already. So I'm good."
We laughed as we hung out around the loft, enjoying the fine company that we three always had since we were kids.
From that day on, James and I became best of friends and lovers. Until better or worse, we loved each other. He got a job as a reporter for the city paper, but mainly worked from home. As he worked, we would eat and eat until we gave up and starting making love. He grew out of his clothes, which were small to begin with, and started growing into his new ones I bought for him. And I grew into his clothes. We became two fat and happy lovers.

Like that song went; we were the best of friends. I finally understood what it all meant when I heard that song. James and I love each other and did love each other without even knowing about it. I always thought about when I was going to be happy again before James. But now, I know that happiness comes and goes for everybody, even those who are always sad. I am happy with James. And always will be.



The End

[ozzy1122]

:)a really great story the first part made me cry a bit

[jaybear]

Now that's the kind of story that will hit home with many of us - some more and some less - but there's something in there that can be appreciated by almost anyone who has suffered from the lack of understanding of others. Well written indeed - with a great deal of deep feeling. Thanks for sharing it.

[fatass505knight]

wow pretty good

[zion_chubby14]

Thanks to all who have posted. The story, like most of my inspiration, came to me in a dream. And I had to build on that dream. I know that it is long in the beginning, but I had to have a good backstory before getting to the good stuff.

[SakurabaSanIV]

that was so good, it almost made me cry at the beginning.