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Fitzgerald and Maurice are college students who meet under traumatic conditions. Even so, this unlikely twosome are inexplicably drawn toward each other. Maurice with his supernatural abilites and self-confidence that oozes arrogance, becomes captivated by closeted Fitzgerald's charisma and naivety.
However, one of the many obstacles standing in the progress of this relationship is Maurice's stance on 'no-sex-before-marriage.' Indirect opposition to Fitzgerald's belief that a boyfriend automatically comes with sex.
Fitzgerald's father, a doctor with a sizable gay clientele, is unaware of his son's sexual orientation. His mother is decidedly homophobic.
On the other hand, Maurice's parents knew that he was gay from an early age. So when he was very young, they informed him of that fact, dismissing the need for him to 'come out' to them.
Incidentally, the title of this story, ‘Half As Much,’ is part of a statement made by Maurice... “If you only love me Half As Much as I love you, you'd be the happiest one in the universe!”
“Ah, you said something about ‘no sex before marriage?’ Does that mean what I think it means?”
He treated me with that enticing lop-sided grin of his. “Yeah.”
I swiveled around to face him. “Are you really serious?”
Capturing my eyes with his unwavering gaze, He answered, “You heard me correctly.”
With a snort and a lip-tweak I said, “You mean, you won’t have sex until you’re married?”
“Right.” His calm demeanor spoke volumes.
“Why?” I don’t believe this. “You afraid of getting a guy pregnant?” I smiled.
His stern silence erased my smile and squelched any further levity. He watched me carefully, assessing my reaction.
I looked away reaching for an effective comeback. I wanted to ask, “Are you really gay?” But I knew I’d still be faced with that no-nonsense stare. Instead, I stated, “That’s a very hetero belief.”
Staying on point he said, “I want us to get to know each other first.”
Without thinking, I blurted, “Your dick is an important part of you and seems like you should include him during the get-to-know phase.”
Without losing a beat he countered, “Making love is more than just having sex, Fitz. I want the freedom of enjoying each other’s mind and body in a warm, safe, loving environment with no limits, no inhibitions, no interruptions.”
I jumped in a little too eagerly, “How about my apartment? I can lock the doors.”
He continued, as though I hadn’t spoken. “Our own place, where parents don’t have duplicate keys.” He sighed.
How does he know my parents have duplicate keys? Still championing my dick’s case, I pleaded, “How about mutual masturbation? At least we could look at each other.” I couldn’t believe his stubbornness.
“I’m an all-or-nothing kind guy. I’ve been hurt in the past, and have hurt others by taking the cart before the horse. I don’t want this to happen with you.”
“You can’t insulate yourself or anybody else from being hurt. Life doesn’t work like that.”
“True, but I can control who I hurt by not becoming involved.”
There, he said it. “Well, it’s your life and I don’t see myself being a part of it. My future boyfriend will make love with me. Period.” Now I understood how Maurice lost his prior boyfriends. I finally gave up. Prince Charming, he might be, but there had to be somebody out there willing to accept me on my terms. With tremendous regret I announced, “OK. I know where I stand.” Assuming he’d given up too, I stood, ready to vacate his ‘sanctuary.’
Then he surprised me. “Fitz, I’m not giving up on us. Neither can you.”
Deciding to discourage him, I began, “Neither can I? If I were you…”
“You’re not.” He interrupted. Handing my backpack to me, he flicked a tiny smile, “See you tomorrow.” He limp-led the way to the back door, I exited, and he closed it quietly behind me. I walked toward my car fighting the urge to turn around. I could feel him watching me.
Once I got in my car, I sat there staring at the steering wheel for a few moments; his last statement flopping around my brain, “I’m not giving up on us. Neither can you.” I felt like I’d just been handed a life sentence of hard labor; I shook my head like I was ridding bad vibes. Fired up the ignition and drove home, very slowly.
Contemplating a life without Maurice almost made me physically ill. My mouth got dry; my hands became sweaty. “What the hell!” I’ve never been this affected by anyone in my life. I barely know the guy! I wondered if he’d exerted some sort of mind control during our conversation. He had this otherworldly vibe about him. Falling in love with him at this stage of the game is not an option! I’m sure there is no gay person on this planet who thinks like he does. No Sex? Humph!
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