A Beautiful Friendship Begins

There were two urinals in the bathroom and he was alone so he took the one on the right. He wasn't in any hurry, so he picked his nose for a few seconds, leaving his findings on the white tiled wall. He pulled his cock out at a leisurely pace and aimed it and the immaculate white URNIAL. He was about to start pissing when the door swung open. He tensed up, suddenly in the presence of another pisser, aware that he had been caught in a bathroom, standing at a urinal, but not pissing. Just shooting the shit, hanging out. He stared straight ahead, unwilling to look at the newcomer, even as he slid in beside him, inches away at the pisser closest to the door. The man unzipped his pants and readied himself.

He could hear his own breathing and his insides moving. He felt the piss sitting heavy inside him, felt it begging to be released. His neighbor wasn't making any water either. The faucet was pissing more than they were in sporadic bursts. Standing inches away the moments passed as awful as could be imagined. He couldn't piss with company around, at least not until the other guy started his own stream. But there was no stream. There was just a stand-off. Out of the corner of his eye he judged the other guy was just as uncomfortable, as fidgety, as appalled, perhaps.

They stood there, unable to do what they needed to do, until he abruptly put his cock away and zipped up. "Fuck this shit. I cannot fucking believe this."

And that's how Nate Kavanaugh met Tom Kruller.

But how could I know this? you ask.

I know this because I was there, my son. It was then that I carried you. And them. Towards one another. One under each arm.

-God/Jesus?