DIONYSIUS
By
Rev Jesse Penfield Gibson, MDiv, DMin
Copyright 2017
DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction. Any similarities to any persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. This story involves consensual sexual activity between college students, both male and female, including bareback sex, group sex and bisexual activity. This story also has drug and alcohol use. If this is not your cup of tea, don't read it. If it is, enjoy.
Complaints and compliments to revjpgibson@hotmail.com
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TEN
Cass got back from his big weekend while Dylan was at the UC working out. When he did get back, Cass was gathering up his stuff to go take a shower.
"How's your weekend," Cass asked him.
"Boring," Dylan answered, annoyed. "All my friends were gone. How was your weekend?"
Cass paused and tried to find the words. "I did LSD for the first time"
Dylan was surprised by that. He sat down and stared at Cass. "You sure that was a good idea?"
"No," Cass admitted, sitting down on his bed. "But it was life changing. I look at everything a little differently now."
"Is that a good thing?"
"I don't know."
"So are you official now? Is that what they do – take you off and feed you LSD?" Dylan asked him pointedly.
"I don't what you're talking about." Cass said.
"Yeah" Dylan replied. "We can't really talk about it, can we? You have a secret life with secret friends doing secret things. And I don't know what the point of us pretending to be friends is. Friends share things in common. What is it that you and I have in common, exactly?"
"I don't know that either, except I do know that I wasn't pretending. I am your friend." Cass answered.
Dylan looked at him hard. "Why don't you go shower. You smell."
He couldn't gauge Cass's feelings as he went to the shower because he was too angry with him. Angry about a lot of things. Mainly, he was just angry to be angry. He gathered up his stuff and headed out for the library. He didn't need to study because he had pretty much spent all day yesterday there and was so far ahead in his classes that it was pointless to get any further ahead. He had so much time on his hands that when he discovered all the old Yearbooks for Willingham, which wasn't even sure that they still did, he spent several hours looking through them. It was actually fun in a geeky sort of way, imagining these staid, plastered haired people being young and hot blooded. But in the 1926 annual, he saw a picture of two young men, George Wymberly De Renne and Charles Stafford, arm in arm with the caption below it reading, "true Dionysians". He studied the next few years and there were a number of references, usually joking, to Dionysus. That came to an abrupt halt in the 1931 annual. There were no references. He found the bound copies of the old campus newspaper and flipped through it. After flipping through two volumes, the page fell open to a 1985 story about the University banning Dionysus. The story noted that this was the 11th time since 1931 that the University had banned the organization. The story listed several students disciplined for membership, including Daniel De Renne. Whatever doubts Dylan had about what Cass was doing and about Alex, for that matter, went away.
When he got the library, he realized that wasn't where he wanted to be. He stashed his books in a locker and headed back to Reade and got his bike. He pedaled off down past the park and down College Street, thinking. He even made it Downtown. He decided to get something to eat at a hot dog joint, Nu-Way Weiner, a sort of local landmark, before heading back. By the time he got back, he had decided what he wanted to do. He was finally in a frame of mind to face his roommate.
Cass was sitting at his desk, reading and taking notes when he walked in. He looked up and asked, "where have you been?"
"Out" Dylan answered. Then he remembered that his books were still at the library. "Now I have to go out again. I left my books at the library."
"You're pissed."
"Not at you" Dylan said honestly. Cass was just being himself. He couldn't blame him for it. There was no law that said he had to modify his behavior in any way to satisfy Dylan.
"Then what?"
"Pretty much everything. I hate it here." Dylan said, his arms folded across his chest. "It has nothing to do with you. You're happy because you're a member of the cool kid's sex and drug club and that's cool. You had a life changing psychedelic experience and that's cool too. Everybody is cool. I'm not. Now that I'm not going to be a preacher, there's really no reason for me to be here. I can go back home, go to school there, get a job. I'm transferring after this semester."
He headed back to the library and fetched his books. Back in the room, Cass wanted to talk to him about his decision. He tried to be apologetic but failed to grasp the real point. Dylan had decided he was unhappy and wanted to take a positive step to remedy that. Cass argued with him, pointing out all the reason's he shouldn't move back home.
"You know, Cass, I'm still gay. I'm a virgin but I'm gay. I am not going to be a preacher. None of that has changed. Yes, moving back home would suck. But it is none of your business. I grant you the right to live your life the way you want and I'll live mine the way I want. Okay?"
The problem was that he didn't feel any better for having decided to leave. Deep down, he wasn't sure that was the real solution. As he reflected on his problem, he realized that when God and Church departed, nothing had filled it's place. He had never really found his footing here but giving up wasn't necessarily the answer either. After class Monday, Alex offered to drive him home. As much as he didn't want to be in a vehicle with Alex for 2 hours, he had to admit he was homesick. It was his chance to get away and he took it.
They left on Friday. Dylan was dreading the drive down but it had to be endured.
"So you're transferring?" Alex asked him almost as soon as they got on the interstate.
"You've been talking to Cass."
. ` "He's worried about you." Alex said.
"I'm not talking about killing myself. It's a state school is all."
"You sure that's the right answer?"
"What do you care?" Dylan said, looking away from him.
"I care because I care, fucker. I care. Cass cares. It is possible that people could care about you. Don't want you to do something stupid just because you're temporarily unhappy. It's a mistake and you're smart enough to know that if you were being rational. But you're pissed off and you're homesick, so you're making a bad decision emotionally."
"You got all the fucking answers, Alex?" Dylan spat the words out, his face red. "Your insight is really that good? We barely know each other and you honestly think you've got me all figured out?"
"I don't want to see you leave" Alex answered.
"Whatever." Dylan put his earphones in and turned on his I-Pod to listen to music.
Alex let him get away with it for a while, almost to Perry, before he had enough. Then he reached over and pulled them out of his ears. "Why exactly are you pissed?"
"Because I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I used to but I don't anymore. Because it's better to be pissed than depressed , I guess. Because as much as hated high school, I knew where I fit in. I wasn't the cool kid but I had a role. I was the good, smart kid. I don't fit anywhere. I have no idea what I want except I don't want what I got right now. My best friend is my roommate but I'm not his best friend. The only friends I have are his friends. You say you care about me but our only connection is Cass. The worst bit is that the thing that binds you all together, Dionysus, is something that I don't belong to and never will. Right now, I'm not important to anybody. And that sucks."
Alex drove on for several miles before saying anything. Then he said, "You're right, at least to a degree. There are a lot things you haven't figured out yet and that sucks. But you're wrong about our only connection being Cass. That was just how we met. Our connection is that I'm attracted to you. I would like for us to have a connection that is independent of any of that other shit."
Dylan was surprised by that. He had no idea. "Do you have any idea how different we are?"
"I think so. Probably more of an idea than you do. We're at two totally different places in life and we got here from totally different places. There is almost no chance of it ending well. All that is true. But you hurting hurts me and that ought to count for something."
He had a lot to think about now. But Alex would be impossible. They were too different. They had almost nothing in common. They had gotten to between Cordele and Ashburn before he found the courage to ask Alex what he wanted to know.
"How many people have you been with?" Dylan asked him.
"A lot" Alex answered.
"Ball park figure" Dylan persisted.
"More than a hundred"
"I've never even kissed anybody. How old were you the first time?"
"10. She was 12. Simon and I both did her. We were just playing but sex happened."
That was even younger than he expected. Surely, they were not really old enough to do the actual deed, he thought. But if that was the one he wanted to count, Dylan wouldn't argue. "And the first time with a guy?"
"I was 12. He was 25. And before you start telling me how I was abused and raped, I was a willing participant."
"And drugs?"
"A lot. Mainly pot and mind expanding drugs. Am I getting points for being honest?"
"Yeah," Dylan answered. Not that it mattered. "And Dionysus?"
Alex continued to drive and said nothing. Only after Dylan persisted, did he answer. "I'm in a tough spot here. I'm not supposed to tell you the truth and I don't want to lie. Can I say nothing?"
"Sure" Dylan said. "But why would a guy like you be attracted to a guy like me?"
Alex looked around and changed lanes and didn't immediately answer that question. "I would have thought it was obvious but apparently not. I hope you figure it out. I am afraid that when you finally do figure out how special you really are, then you won't have any time for me. It's the same reason that Cass is worried about you. Because almost everybody else has a mean, malicious, selfish, greedy side to them. You don't. You're smart, you're good looking and you're true. That's why."
They didn't say much more after that. When they got to Dylan's house, Alex told him to text him when he got out of church. Alex wanted to have dinner with Dylan's family before they headed back. That made his mom happy since she liked to feed boys. Just by happenstance, Dylan and his mother were at Sam's Club the next day and he saw Alex there too. He had one of the large trolley's which was piled high with bulk groceries and there was a kid pushing a regular cart behind him, which seemed to be filling up rapidly. Dylan went over to speak. Alex seemed embarrassed, acting as if he had been caught at something, when all he was doing was buying half of the Sam's Club. He introduced the kid as his younger brother Sean. The kid, a skinny, tow headed blonde boy who looked like he was 11 or 12, was totally uninterested in Dylan. When Dylan asked him what he was doing, Alex just blew it off as running an errand. Then he invited to go to the movies that night. It was to go see the Scorcese film, The Departed. Dylan agreed and they made a date for the 7:05 showing.
He had to borrow his mother's car to drive from Twin Lakes to the Mall, meeting up with Alex outside the movies. He was with his brother Ian, who Dylan recognized from school, and a couple of Ian's friends, mostly stoners. Even though the movie was generously profane and relentlessly violent, Dylan liked it. There were quite a few funny bits and the acting was terrific. He did comment about the closing scene when a woman stepped off the elevator with a poodle. Dylan was concerned for the dog's safety since everybody else on screen was coming to a bad end.
Sunday came and he went to church with his family. He was surprised when he realized that he found the whole thing to be a pointless waste of time and actually quite boring, like a lecture at school but about a topic that he didn't care about. He was just going through the motions for the sake of propriety. Alex showed up soon after they got home and Dylan packed his stuff to return to school while his mother finished Sunday Dinner.
Alex, staring over a plate of vegetables, said to Dylan's mom, "You know, next week is fall break. I was wondering if you would be disappointed if Dylan went sailing with me instead of coming home?"
His mother looked at Dylan, who shrugged. It was the first time that he heard anything about it. "Well, he's 18 now. He doesn't need my permission to spend time with his friends."
"No, ma'am. But let's face it: if he knew it disappointed you, he wouldn't do it."
"You're not going to the beach? Cass is." Dylan asked
"No, dummy. I'm going sailing. I just said." Alex smiled.
"I don't think he's ever been sailing before, have you, sweetie? Where would you be sailing to?"
Alex shrugged and said, "No place in particular. Just up the coast toward North Carolina. It's just 4 days so Bermuda and back would be a stretch. My grandfather in Savannah has a Contessa 32 that he lets me borrow. It's a good boat. He really babies it. A Contessa is probably the safest small boat on the water. It's famously seaworthy. It was the only 32 footer to finish Fastnet, which was a famous race where a bunch of boats capsized. The Contessa just weathered it like it was nothing."
She thought about it. "Well, it's up to Dylan. Have you sailed much?"
"Yes, ma'am." Alex replied, shoveling food in his face. He was eating like a starved adolescent. "Me and my stepbrother, Simon, practically grew up on boats. He was going to go with me but he has to meet the girlfriend's parents. So you interested?"
Dylan looked at his mom. He truly didn't want to let her down but it did seem like an adventure. "Yeah, sure."
Alex grinned broadly. "Great"
The ride back was more pleasant than the trip down. A couple of days back convinced him that as much as his mother loved him and would baby him, he wasn't eager to give up his new found freedom. It boiled down to not wanting to have to ask permission to do things and not wanting to have to hide things from her. He and Alex mainly talked about sailing and it turned out that he wasn't lying. His mother and Simon's mother had been lovers, making Simon his erstwhile "stepbrother". They had spent the better part of most summers with his grandfather, his father's father, who was a sailing bum. They had gone to Bermuda a few times and the Bahamas and made a memorable sail across the Atlantic when he was 11. After his mother died, he had gone to live with his other grandparents, a bad arrangement that had left him bitter and resentful, losing contact with his preferred grandfather. But when he turned 18 and was an adult legally, he had reestablished contact with him.
Cass was surprised that Alex wasn't going to the beach when Dylan told him. He had assumed that Alex would. The fact that Dylan planned to go sailing with him seemed to worry Cass, who tried weakly to talk him out of it. Cass warned him that Alex had ulterior motives, which is something that Dylan was all ready convinced of. But Dylan was surprisingly okay with that. He was looking forward to it. So Dylan changed the subject to talk about the girl that Cass was spending a lot of time with, Nicole, the same girl from the shower. Cass described their relationship as "fuck buddies" but it seemed to Dylan that they were doing an awful lot of that to just be friends.
He had his things packed and the y headed out for Savannah after class on Wednesday. They made good time on I-16 with Alex speeding but caught up in heavy traffic at rush hour in Savannah. The drivers in Savannah drove fast and aggressive, even more than Atlanta and Dylan was glad he wasn't driving. They took I-16 all the way to the end, ending up downtown. As it turned out, Dylan knew his way around downtown better than Alex did because he had a aunt that lived there and he loved the beauty of downtown Savannah, with its rich architectural heritage and glorious squares. He guided Alex expertly around the squares to end up on the road toward Tybee Island. It is a two lane ribbon of road, crossing the marshes and waterways of the coastal islands. They pulled off before the long stretch to Tybee at a small marina, composed of several metal work buildings, a scattered assortment of boats and a single cinder block house. Alex pointed out the boat, a small blue and white sail boat tied up to the pier, floating gently in the water.
Alex's grandfather had white hair and a sun and sea worn face with several days growth of beard. His eyes were still the palest blue and alive. Dylan guessed that he must be in his 60's but he generally appeared to be a younger man: tough, lean, muscled but with the look of a man who earned his living through hard work. The woman living with him was barely older than Alex and African-American. Even Dylan could see that she was sexually desirable to those so inclined. His grandfather introduced himself as J.D., which Dylan learned was short for John David, and introduced the two young children there playing on the porch of the house as the "old lady's brats". There seemed to be real affection between the older man and Alex, though. Contrary to what Dylan imagined, this grandfather did not seem to be rich at all. His house was no better and certainly no more modern than the house Dylan had grown up in. But they were friendly and got friendlier after a couple of glasses of wine.
Alex said that he was going out to check the boat as dusk descended on them. Dylan and JD were sitting on the porch overlooking the marsh and the river beyond, a glass of wine in their hands.
"Oh and while I'm gone, Dylan has some questions. He saw this picture in an old yearbook of George De Renne and Charles Stafford. It called them `true dionysians'. He's trying to put two and two together," Alex said as he headed toward the boat.
JD looked at him with a look of mild surprise. "And how much do you want me to say about that?"
"Well, he doesn't know very much so whatever you say will be more than he has all ready." Alex shrugged and headed off.
JD fished into the pocket of the shirt that he was wearing unbuttoned. He lifted up a joint and lit it. "Just an after dinner buzz. So I take it that you're not counted among the fortunate members of that particular society?"
"No sir" Dylan answered.
"I could tell you not to call me sir but judging by that accent, you just came rolling out of the woods yesterday and wouldn't dream of being rude to your elders. That's what Yankees fail to grasp: a true Southerner never wants to be rude by accident. Because that's when the shooting starts. It isn't so much gracious manners as it is self-preservation," JD said, lighting the joint and handing it to Dylan. "Well, anyway. GW was my father and a founding member of the Dionysus society, along with Charles Stafford and a few others. You have to remember that it was Prohibition and Willingham was very Baptist in those days, so it was dry as a bone. You can think of it as being a sort of a collegiate version of the Oglethorpe Club. Of course the other thing to remember is that in those days, good girls didn't. If you can imagine being a 20,21 year old male and the most you could hope for was a little kiss and maybe the occasional grab at a titty. But it was a more matter of fact age when it came to male sexuality, even up until my teenage years in the late 50's. Fathers would take their sons to visit a whore when they got old enough to need it. My father did. Of course, boys would help each other out in that regard too. So, sex was on the agenda too from the very beginning. At any rate, Father and Mr. Charles were life-long friends, and remained so until they both shuffled off this mortal coil, despite the fact that Henry and I genuinely despised each other. I was the surprise child of Father's second marriage and Henry was Mr. Charles's grandson and a bit younger than me. When I graduated from high school, I was sort of at loose ends and ended up joining the Navy to see the world, which mostly turned out to be San Diego. I was corpsman and this was just as Vietnam was starting, but I did a 6 month tour there with the Marines. After I got out, I went to Willingham and, in due course, found myself a member of Dionysus. Henry came along a little later. We had a basic disagreement. He saw Dionysus as a drinking club where the elites meet to have their pleasures privily. I viewed it's reason to be to get fucked up and get laid, both of which sounded fine to me. Why not have marijuana and, later, LSD? Why not admit women? He was adamantly opposed to all of that but eventually lost the argument. He did manage to keep the negroes out for a while longer."
"And Henry is Alex's other grandfather?" Dylan asked.
"Indeed. The only one of Henry's children to go to Willingham, much less join, was his daughter Patty, who despised her father. Henry had all ready made a fortune in tax law and unscrupulous real estate deals by then and was a bastion of the conservative establishment in the state. He was even State Senator for a time. Let's just say that there was little love lost. She was artistic and beautiful and liberal and very largely lesbian. Liberal, he could explain away and hope that she would outgrow it. A fondness for pussy was a different matter all together. I had gone on to have a successful career in marijuana smuggling but it was short-lived. By the time my son, Danny, was ready for college, I was in the Marion `Federal Pen in middle of a 10 year sentence. But De Renne is a fine old Savannah name and they admitted him despite my being the black sheep of the family. Needless to say, they found their way into bed together with Alexander being the result, named for a man they both admired, Alexander Shulgin. You can google that. Then a few years later, they produced Nicholas. I forget why they named him that."
Alex came up from the boat and stood on the eave of the porch. "Well?"
"He was just telling me about your family. Made it sound like the Capulets and Montagues," Dylan answered.
"Except Juliet was a dyke and Romeo has had 8 children by 5 women. Not exactly fairy tale stuff," Alex said.
JD fished out another joint, lit it and handed it to his grandson. "Well, Alexander, I would think that you would have a more forgiving nature about you, at least where sex is concerned."
"I don't have a problem with Dad. Well, except that he never really fought to keep me when the time came. But other than the worst 4 years of my life, we're great," Alex said, handing back the joint. "He grows some high quality weed, that's for sure."
Dylan was worried about the undercurrent of hostility from Alex. JD seemed used to it, though. He blew on the joint to light the ember further and then handed it Dylan. "I'll grant you that Daniel is better at making children than raising them. But until you're mother died, he played the role she wanted. You were too grief stricken to remember that you choose not to go with him."
"No, I choose you. But that didn't last, did it?"
"No," JD said calmly. "But Henry had power and position and I was a convicted drug felon and, as you well know, Daniel has good reason to not want people looking too closely at his business. There was no option."
"So are your questions answered, Dylan?" Alex said.
"I wasn't trying to hurt you, Alex. You know that." Dylan said.
"If you don't mind my asking, how serious is this relationship?" JD asked.
"We're not fucking, if that's what you're asking" Alex said.
"That part doesn't matter. You're a man. Where you stick your dick is your business. I don't care if you take it up the ass. Sex is great, I love it. In fact, if the stars align, I'll have some tonight. But there is a difference between fucking and intimacy. If he's scared that you sleep around too much to be trusted or that you do too many drugs, you might want to address that yourself. I could sit here and extols your many virtues, and you have many virtues, but why don't you take responsibility. You have 3 days on the boat, just the two of you. I wouldn't waste them if I were you," JD said as he got up. Then he stopped and looked at Dylan. "There is one virtue that you ought to know about: he loves fiercely. He wouldn't tolerate Henry or Doris saying anything negative about his mother. He clung to his brotherhood with Simon despite their racism. And he lets me say what I want to him. You might want to think about that."
"I will" Dylan said.
"And speaking of fucking, I think I'll go do the old lady."