All it takes (M/M, NS)
by einhard
PLEASE NOTE: This story is fiction from beginning to end. The characters don't exist, and the things they do, never happened.
"Is that all it takes?" asked Natalie. "As long as you're always the one to stick your dick in some hole, then you're a man?"
"I guess" said I.
"Uh-huh. Now, that's a nice piece of reasoning. You're supposed to be a bright boy, Kent. That's why you're in a PhD program at 21. Yet you're so stupid. No, not stupid. Silly. That's what you are. You tell me you've been with two girls in your whole life. Then, you get plastered at a party, end up in bed with a guy, and suck his dick..." I winced. "Okay, you perform fellatio on him, if that sounds better, and now you're convinced you are no longer a man. Guys!"
"But..."
"But what? Let me tell you something about being a man. Not that I'm such an expert, because I'm a woman, but I've known some real men in my time. Being a man is about character and honesty, about making the right choices, about treating other people with respect, about caring. Where you put your dick or your mouth, or whether or not you use your ass as an exit only, is irrelevant. No, that's not right." She paused for a moment, then went on, a little less agitated.
"What you do in bed - or wherever you choose to have sex - is relevant. Not because it makes you any less of a man if you do it with other men, or if you give head or take it up the ass, but because it's part and parcel of this caring business. If sex to you means simply stuffing your penis inside some mouth, pussy or asshole, you probably don't care. But if you're willing to give yourself to the other person, then you do. And then it doesn't matter much what practices you're into. Hell, Greg is more of a man than you!"
I started. "How did you know?" I asked her.
"What do you mean, how did I know? Oh!" I could virtually hear the wheels turning in her head.
"So that's why he..."
"Why what, Nattie? What did he do?" My secret was out now. I had had sex with my best friend's (Nattie's) childhood sweetheart, one of the few openly gay guys on campus, and I had told her without meaning to. I braced myself for the storm that never came. Instead, she went quiet for a while.
"I saw him this morning", she said. "You know how he's always smiling? Well, today he was glowing. I guess most other people didn't notice, but I did. I've known him a long time, and I could see he was glowing. He hasn't been like that since he met Josh. In highschool. Josh was his first and so far his only boyfriend. It was after he met Josh that he came out. Not just to me, but to his family, in school, to the world." She paused again.
"Which brings me back to my original point", she resumed in a lecturing tone. "Greg was man enough to admit to everybody and anybody what he was the minute he figured it out for himself, and then he gave all he had to his man. Josh had the gift of Greg, body and soul, because Greg was a real man. I don't know which of them stuffed what inside the other, and I never cared."
"What happened?" I asked.
"Josh left him. Told Greg he was sick of him. Then he was married. Josh, that is, not Greg."
"Wow! Must have been tough."
"Greg was devastated. Me, I think Josh loved Greg every bit as much as Greg loved Josh. But Greg had a loving, supporting family and lots of old friends who accepted and supported him. Josh came from old money. He was a fourth."
"A what?"
"Joshua Albert Winthrop IV."
"Wow!" I was being real articulate and original that day. "Is that as heavy as it sounds?"
"Heavier. His family had money coming out of their ears. A mansion here, a mansion there. Six cars - or maybe it was eight, I forget - guestlists full of governors, senators and tycoons. And no desire to see the son and heir hitched up with a guy. Poor Josh, he never really stood a chance."
Shit! Here I thought I had revelations to share, and she throws this at me! If I hadn't had food for thought before, I sure did now. Greg, sweet, tender Greg, had all this crap in his life. I thought back to the party on Friday. His smiling face, those shorts, the tight ass inside, his smile, the gorgeous dick that I just had to have. Fuck! What was I thinking? And why was I so hard?
"You know, I'm kinda glad I don't have any of those. Must be a hassle."
"Huh?" I looked up to see Nattie with a Mona Lisa look. You know, a mysterious smile.
"Well, you were adjusting the "family jewels", weren't you? What else was your hand doing down between your legs?"
I must have turned the color of beetroot. At least the heat I felt in my cheeks suggested it. That, and Nattie's "Aww, isn't he cute, blushing like that?"
"So, uhh, what should I do?" I mumbled once I had regained a certain composure.
"Sort it out. Whether you feel something for him or you don't, talk to him and sort it out. If you can't, then you're not a man."
"You never let up, do you?"
"I do, sometimes. But now is not the time. So what's it gonna be?"
I didn't really have a lot of options, I could see that much.
"I don't know my way around the physics department. Could you point me in the right direction?"
"I'll draw you a map" answered Nattie, grinning hugely.
Ten minutes later, with a crude little map in my hand, I was walking along the corridors of the top floor of the physics department. The rock in my stomach was getting heavier with every step. At the same time, the tightness of my briefs was getting worse. Also, I suspected that my face was looking pretty silly. In any case, the few people I met along the way all smiled at me, so I was probably grinning like a hyena.
I found the door. It was open, and he was inside, reading the newspaper. I was just about to knock when he looked up.
"Kent!" He stood up quickly, flashing me that killer smile. It was a struggle to stay on my feet, but I did it. Now was the time to be a man.
"Ehm, Greg. Could I have a word, please?"
Being a man has its burdens. But it sure can be good, too. All it takes, is a bit of courage. And the will to test yourself. Your mind. And your body, too. Yeah!
This story is copyrighted by me, einhard. (c) 2001. All rights reserved.
Any comments? Did you like the story? Hate it? You can mail me at: einhard@excite.com