He was lying on the cold slab in the middle of the room. He was alone. I walked slowly over to him, thankful that the mortician had allowed me to see him this late at night. I gently pulled the sheet off him and stood back, admiring his body. He was beautiful, even in death.

I still felt bad about his suicide. This young man had been under my care and I’d failed him. I hadn’t wanted him to die. I should have been there with him that night he took the overdose. I should never have left his side. I should have been able to help him. I stood by his side and cried over him until I ran out of tears.

I don’t know why it occurred to me, but I slowly unbuttoned my shirt and let it slide down my arms. The chill air of the mortuary prickled across skin that was suddenly alive and sensitive. I unbuckled my belt and stripped the rest of my clothes off quickly.

Shivering, I paused by Kevin’s head and kissed him again, on the lips. A strange sensation I had been aware of for the past couple of minutes pushed itself into the forefront of my mind and I reached down, without taking my eyes from his face, and gently stroked the base of my stiffening cock. I was feeling something I’d never felt before.

I did love him. We had been friends, nothing more. Maybe I’d always wanted more out of our relationship, but had been afraid to take it. Now I didn’t have to be afraid. We were alone together at last.

I lay down next to him on the cold slab and pressed my hot body to him. It amazed me how cool and still he was. I nuzzled through his hair, holding him close in a last embrace. I didn’t want to let him go. Tears flooded my eyes again, but we were pressed together now and I took comfort in that. I murmured his name over and over again into his hair.