you serious? He’s gay."

"Actually, he told me he’d like to do it with you."

Fred was suddenly speechless. The expression on his face was shock.

"Oh. But that doesn’t mean I want to do it with him," he said.

"Come on, Fred. Do it for me if you won’t do it for him," Kate said. She got up and went over to him and put her hands on his chest.

"That’s so weird. That’s such a crazy idea."

"Please," Kate said, sliding her thigh against the bulge in his pleated pants.

He sighed. "If Stan really wants me to do this... Ok," he said.

"Good. I’ll let him know," Kate said.

* * * *

She made arrangements to meet at Stan’s apartment that Friday night. When Friday finally arrived, Fred was so nervous he was shaking. He drove with Kate to Stan’s place, but his palms were sweaty and his mouth was dry. How would he even be able to face Stan when they got there?

Kate walked ahead of Fred to Stan’s door and pressed the doorbell button. Fred caught up to her a moment before Stan opened the door. He smiled at Kate.

"We’re here," she said, and made her way inside.

"Hi Fred," Stan said.

"Hey," Fred said. He found himself behaving in a more masculine way, which only made him more uncomfortable.

"Come in. You want a beer?" Stan said.

"I think I need a whiskey."

"That’s a good idea. I’ll see what I can find."

Stan went to the kitchen. Fred sat on the couch beside Kate and let out a deep sigh.

"What’s the matter?" she said.

"Nothing. Just a little nervous."

She patted his knee. "You’ll do fine. I’m proud of you for trying it." She leaned close to his ear and kissed his cheek.

Stan returned with three cold bottles of beer.

"I’ll be right back with the whiskey," he said, and set the beers down.

Fred cracked open his beer. By the time Stan returned with a bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses, his beer was half gone. His knee was trembling. Stan poured a small amount of the amber colored whiskey into the tiny glasses.

Kate put her hand on Fred’s knee. He took a deep breath. The whole idea of what he was planning to do with Stan was just crazy. There were any number of girls he could call just to fuck. Why did he need to do it with another guy?

The threaded end of the whiskey bottle clinked on the rims of the shot glasses. Stan’s hand was shaking. The room was awkwardly quiet. He spilled a few drops of whiskey on the wooden table, and he smiled at them, like he was trying to cover his embarrassment.

Fred raised his glass and poured it down his throat, then followed it with the rest of his beer. Kate giggled. Stan, on the other hand, calmly sipped the whiskey, until a drop poured down his chin and Kate began to laugh.

"Are you gonna finish your beer?" Fred said in a mumble.

"Don’t touch my beer," she said in a stern voice, then laughed harder. "You two should see yourselves. You’re like two women about to