The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events between males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or live in an area where it is not allowed, don't read it.
In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms. In the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
Sorry about the delay in posting this chapter. I've been away.
Special thanks go to Patrick, Tom, and Evan for lots of help with difficult scenes here. Tommy also wrote all of one of the scenes. Can you figure out which one? And, as usual, my thanks to Mickey and Ash for their continuing help and support.
Timmead88@yahoo.com Chapter 20: Decisions, Decisions
TREY:
It was 6:00 PM when I pulled into the parking lot. I had driven hard all day to get there from Richmond.
I wheeled into my parking space, noticing that Chaz's big black Tahoe was in his slot, grabbed my garment back and satchel from the back seat, pushed the "Lock" button on the key fob, and hightailed it up to our apartment.
The big guy was there, looking absolutely delicious in a plain white tee and cutoff jeans. He was barefoot. Love his feet!
I wasn't two steps inside the door when he jumped me. He grabbed my arms, pinning them to my sides so I had to drop the bags. He picked me up and whirled me around in a circle twice. Then he stopped. Still holding me off the floor, he gave me a big, wet, sloppy kiss. That turned into a tongue fucking which would have put Raul to shame. By the time he set me down, I was breathless and hard. My tool was trapped pointing down the leg of my cargoes.
"You hungry, Tiger?"
"Yeah, stud, but not for food!"
Right answer, obviously. He beamed.
"OK, we can send out or go out later. Right now, let's get it on!"
"Chaz, I'm just as anxious to get it on as you are, but I've been in the car all day, and I really need a shower. Wanna join me?" I asked giving him a leer.
I've always liked the idea of long, gentle, erotic showers, but this wasn't one of them. Oh, yeah, we washed each other, especially each other's cracks and dicks and balls, but we were too hungry for each other to indulge in much foreplay. We were barely rinsed and dried off when he grabbed me by the back of the head and marched me into his bedroom. He had taken all the covers off his bed except the top sheet. I noticed there were towels spread over the sheets and a bottle of WET on the bedside table.
As we stood beside the bed, he picked me up for another kiss, but this time he had his hand in my crack and was fingering my anus.
When we broke from the kiss, I said, "I take it you've missed me, big guy."
"Oh, man, have I!"
I got in bed on my back, assuming he'd want to do the honors.
"Uhm, Tiger, I think it's your turn to be on top."
"Hey, what happened to the `dominant partner' thing you mentioned last weekend?"
"Oh, that was just a joke. Anyway, `dominant' doesn't have to mean being on top, you know? I love our sex either way, and I think you do, too. Right now, though, I feel like getting fucked into next week!"
He pulled me up and lay down in my place.
"You're such a wise-ass! Guess now I know the meaning of "pushy bottom!" I said as I stretched out on top of him, and started kissing him feverishly, grinding my oozing cock into his belly. His cock, just as hard, just as leaky, was poking me in the balls. We kissed and writhed for a while, but I knew if we didn't stop, I was going to come right there. I didn't want this to be over so soon, so I pulled back, rolled off him, and sat on the edge of the bed. He pushed himself up on his elbows, looking at me questioningly, his lower lip stuck out a bit like he was pouting.
"Hey, what's up, Tiger? Do I have bad breath or somethin'?"
"No way, lover. We're going too fast, that's all. Just lie there for a minute. I want to try something." I stood at the foot of the bed, reached down, and grabbed my lover's left foot. Then I used both my thumbs to massage the bottom of it.
He began to moan and wiggle immediately.
"Ohhhh, Tiger, nobody ever did that to me before. I wouldn't a thought it could feel so good. But I thought we were gonna screw."
"Oh, we are, babe, we are. Just lie there and humor me, all right?"
"Mmmmmm."
I worked on his foot a while longer. Then I did something I thought I would never do. I began licking the top of his foot. Chaz giggled, his six-pack rippling. The wide expanse of his hairy chest bore a thin film of sweat. What a sight!
"Trey babe, you may have to tie me down if you're gonna do that. I'm awful ticklish."
"Suck it up, Greeley. I'm calling the shots here, remember?"
His foot smelled like Dial, or Irish Spring, or whatever. I began to suck on his big toe. That, apparently, didn't tickle. He just lay there with this silly grin on his face, his dripping tool waving at me.
"I never thought I'd see the day when anyone had my toe in their mouth. I sure as hell never though it would be Henry Lee Withers the Third himself. And it feels great! But, babe, I have this, uh, little problem here. I'm horny as hell after a week without you, and I need more than a toe-job."
"Your problem is anything but little, studly," I said, looking pointedly at his bludgeon. "So what do you propose we do about it?"
He attempted to glower at me. "Trey, if you don't cut out this shit and fuck me now, I'm gonna throw you down here and rape you!"
"Oooh, you nasty big brute. You wouldn't do that to poor little me, would you?"
"You heard me, hot stuff. You'd better get on with it, or you'll find out."
He grabbed both pillows and put them under his ass. He put his feet flat on the bed. I grabbed the lube, did my throbbing, fiery-red pole, and got on my knees between his legs. Once again, they're so long I felt as if I were between step-ladders as I worked lube into his hole.
He must have been as hot as I was, for he began pushing his ass toward my hand as I lubed him.
"OK, big boy, here we go," I said as I shoved my cock into him." There was no finesse here, just lust.
He didn't even grunt as I pushed into him, but when he felt my pubes against his ass, he smiled serenely and sighed, "Yessss!!"
Funny thing. At that moment I noticed what long eyelashes he had. I've known the guy for three years, and never noticed that. I thought I had memorized his appearance a long time ago, but right then it hit me how beautiful those lashes were.
Thankfully, all the delay had helped some. Buried deep inside him, I no longer felt like I'd come any second. Instead, I was transported by bliss, as I began to pump him slowly. Under me, Chaz muttered and groaned.
"Yeah, babe. That's what I need. Tiger dick. In me. Fuckin' me good. How'd it take us three years to get to this? This is what I've always needed, man. Oh, yeah, fuck me! Fuck me!"
I gave it everything I had, changing speed, doing long strokes, short strokes, quick little jabs, stopping occasionally to stave off the climax. Of course, it all felt fabulous. His chute was so tight, so smooth, so responsive that for a while I didn't even hear Chaz anymore. I just got lost in the sensations.
When he tightened up, yelled, "Aw Shit!" and came all over his chest and belly, though, I was jerked back to awareness. And that was all it took for me, as I pumped a week's load into him.
When I finished, I put a hand on each of his knees and just panted for a few minutes.
"Man, that was intense," he said, smiling at me with those pale blue eyes -- and long lashes. "Thanks, Tiger babe. You don't know how much I've needed that."
I stretched out on his cum-splattered chest, wiggled around a little, and said, "No more than I have, lover." Then I kissed him.
We snuggled for a few minutes before deciding another shower was a must. This one was even more businesslike than the first, for by now we had both worked up a pretty good appetite. Rather than dress again, we both pulled on some boxers and ordered pizza. I had just put the receiver down when the phone rang. It was Geoff, asking for an opportunity for a private talk. We agreed to meet on Tuesday evening.
"Who was that?" Chaz asked.
"Geoff, the guy I've been helping with his tennis. Remember? The same guy who made that Doublemint remark."
"Oh, you mean when you and Steve strutted to the pool in those matching yellow speedos? And you cracked something about doubling his pleasure? No wonder he wants a word with you."
"Who said we strutted?"
"That's the way I picture it, anyway. I'll bet it was a hot scene."
When the pizza came, we sat at the kitchen table, scarfing it down, drinking tall glasses of cold milk with it. He wanted to know how Rob and Uncle Jack were doing, and I gave him the short version so that I could get him to tell me all about his coming out to his parents. He gave me a detailed account, including everything his dad had said. There were tears in his eyes as he told me about it.
"So, I'm pretty much of a prick, huh?"
I reached over and put my hand on top of his.
"Well, stud, you do have a way of getting mad and storming out of a room."
He smiled. "As you have lots of reason to know, Tiger. Like I said, I'm a shit."
"Here now!" I said. "None of that. I don't fuck shits'. I don't love shits.'"
"Well, you know, sometimes I do slam out of places, but that's usually because I'm afraid if I stay around I'll do or say something I'll be sorry for later."
"Yeah, babe, I know that. And I'm sure your folks do, too. But your folks' reaction should make things between you all a lot better."
"Oh, it has. We've had a couple of long talks on the phone this week. Dad's cool with everything, but they want me to bring you home sometime soon. If we can't manage it before classes begin, we'll definitely have to go for a weekend this fall."
"Great!"
He looked sad again.
"OK, what is it?"
"Well, my dad said the worst part about me being gay was that I wouldn't be giving them any grandkids." Then he smiled his wicked smile. "How about if I get you pregnant?"
"You wish, dufus!"
We fucked again before we went to sleep -- in my bed. The next morning we traded long, sweet blowjobs before we showered together again.
GEOFF:
Matching speedos! Doubling my pleasure! I couldn't help wondering what was going on with Trey Withers. Those two HAD to be gay. And, man, were they hot.
Maybe I'd better explain.
Now that I'm in grad school and no longer on the swim team, I still swim every day. Swimming helps me stay in shape, and, besides, I can't imagine not swimming.
One day late in the first summer term, I had finished my swim and was on my way back to the locker room. Coming toward me I saw Trey Withers and this guy I had never seen before.
I know Trey because we got to talking in a bar one evening. I had seen him play. He's such a sexy dude, I just wanted to have a chance to get to know him, so I introduced myself, offered to buy him a beer, and we got to know each other a little. I was asking him about tennis and mentioned that I played but that my game sucked. Well, we talked for an hour or so. Not only does he look great, with those hazel eyes of his and his dark blond hair, but he turned out to be someone I felt really at ease with. When he had to leave, he offered to meet me on the courts sometime and give me some pointers. A week later, I was surprised as hell when he actually called and reminded me of his offer. We set a date, and, well, we'd get together from time to time for a set or two, and he really did help me with my game, especially my backhand, which had never been quite right before.
Anyway, I had played with Trey several times after the spring term (and intercollegiate tennis) were over. It had only been about a week since we had played when I saw him and this other guy at the pool.
What took my eye first of all was that I had never seen Withers in a swimsuit before. Damn, was he fine! He's an inch or so shorter than my six feet even, but his chest and shoulders are better developed than mine. He had a super tan, which I envy because he's one of those dark blonds who can tan, and I'm a pale blond who just burns and peels and then does it all over again.
The guy with him was very different, but also sexy. An inch or so shorter than Withers, he was dark, you know, brown eyes, dark brown hair, skin naturally darker than Trey's or mine. He looked Mediterranean or Middle Eastern, with full lips, a sort of sharp nose, and a long face. He had a neat body, sort of like a smaller version of mine. He could have been a swimmer, for all I knew.
What really caught my attention, though, was that they were wearing matching speedos in a pale yellow. Both of them had nice packages. Withers smiled his usual sexy smile when he saw me, but the smaller dude looked serious, sort of like he was nervous.
I said the first thing that came to my mind: "Trey, you two look like something out of a Doublemint commercial."
The little dude flushed under his dark skin, like I had really embarrassed him. I felt bad about that.
Withers winked at me and said, "Yeah, Geoff, we could double your pleasure, fer sher!"
I laughed at that, and we all kept on going, me toward the showers and them toward the pool.
As I showered, though, I couldn't get that episode out of my mind. First of all, what were they doing in matching speedos? Could that have been coincidence? I suppose so. But then again, it looked almost like an announcement that they were partners or something. That's when, for the first time since I had known Withers, it crossed my mind he might be gay.
`Nah,' I said to myself. He has dated some of the best-looking women on campus, and as often as he and I have been together -- on the court, in the showers, in bars together --he has never given me any indication that he wasn't straight. If he's gay, my gaydar sure as hell needs to go in for a tune-up. Don't get me wrong, I've wished he were gay often enough. In fact, I've had some j.o. fantasies involving Henry Lee Withers III.
Well, the matching suits may have been coincidence or something, but what about that comeback remark? They could double my pleasure? What could that have meant? It HAD to mean something sexual didn't it? Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?
I stewed about that for a week. I mean, after all, here I am, a grad student. I've known I was gay since I was 12, but I am totally in the closet. Being on the swim team was torture sometimes, but I always managed to control my urges and hide my dick when it got hard. No one knows I'm gay, which is the way I've always wanted it. I'd probably have lost all my swim team friends if they knew I am a queer. But damn! I was about to explode. I needed to talk to someone, and the more I thought about it, the more I thought that comment by Trey had to be a sexual innuendo. Could it have even been a come-on? Shit! I wished I knew.
Finally, I decided I was willing to risk Trey's friendship if I was wrong, but I was hoping desperately that I had read him right. So I called and asked him if we could get together someplace private. He was great. Didn't ask what it was all about. Just reminded me he had a roommate, but that he'd come to my place if that was ok. He knows I have a small apartment and that I live in it alone. We settled that he'd come over a couple of nights later about 8:00.
After we hung up, it dawned on me that I was going to come out to this guy. Whether he was gay or not, I wanted to tell him. Even though he's a couple of years younger than me, I felt as if I could confide in him and that it really didn't matter whether he was straight or not, I was just going to tell him.
I was fine all weekend, but when Tuesday came, I was getting pretty nervous, couldn't concentrate on my classes, didn't have any appetite, and my palms were sweaty.
This was way worse than my first dive from the 10-meter platform! I had cleaned up my apartment meticulously. Now I suddenly found it too clinical, so I placed some of my favorite books and cd's around to make it look more casual. When at 6:30 I found myself rearranging things for the third time, I decided I had to get out of there. I grabbed my keys and went to the university pool for a swim.
I stayed there for quite a while, wanting to cut it close. Better a bit out of breath than nervous like a bride, I figured. On my way back, though, I got caught in a traffic jam, and when I finally arrived at my apartment block, I saw Trey already waiting at the door. Damn! Hurriedly I parked my baby-blue VW Golf (an embarrassing color, but it had been a cheap deal, and so far the car hadn't collapsed under me). I jogged all the way from the parking lot to the front door, so, of course, I was a little out of breath AND pretty nervous when I got to Trey.
TIM:
It must have been 7:00 AM when I woke Ced up by sucking on his nip. The lovemaking that followed was lighthearted, funny, and very sexy. As Ced has mentioned, we both went back to sleep when it was over.
I woke again about 9:00. Ced was still fast asleep, so I got up, pulled on a jock and my running outfit (a tee, shorts, socks, and my Tigers). I left quietly so that my baby could sleep.
When I got back an hour later, I found Cedric in the kitchen, wearing his usual breakfast outfit of an apron and nothing else. He kissed me, made a face, and said, "Timmy, these pancakes can wait until you've had your shower, baby. But don't dawdle in there, `cause I'm hungry!"
He was right. Everything I had on was soaked with sweat. He slapped my rump, and I went off to get a quick shower. I skipped the shave. I could do that before we went to the long-promised dinner at Stefan's that evening.
Ced had sectioned grapefruit halves, sprinkled them with brown sugar, and put them under the broiler. We worked on those while the pancakes were in the griddle. He kept a careful eye on them as he ate his grapefruit. When he produced big stacks of wonderfully light pancakes (Angel's recipe, he said), he also set out sausage patties, maple syrup, and butter. He poured us big mugs of coffee, and we both dug in.
"MMM! Cedric, if I could afford to pay you what Jake is paying you, I'd try to entice you away to come and be my houseboy and cook."
With a mock serious look on his face, he said, "Ah ain't nobody's boy!"
I tried not to choke on a bite of sausage as I chuckled. Then he went on,
"Baby, you KNOW I'd rather be here with you than at home this summer. But must needs do what the old man and my legal career dictate."
I put down my fork and just looked into those black eyes that made me shiver and said, "Yeah, sweetheart, I know."
After we finished eating and doing the after-breakfast cleanup, I asked Cedric to come into the living room with me. We sat at opposite ends of the sofa, facing each other.
"What's up, Tim? Are we about to have a heart-to-heart? "
"Well, yes, I suppose. I've been thinking about what we talked about last night."
He thought for a minute and then said, "Oh, you mean about coming out?"
`Yup. I think we need to explore this whole question."
"OK."
"First, there's something I didn't mention last night. I think it would be easier for me to come out on campus than it would be to tell my parents."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Your folks are great, and I can see how much they love you and how proud of you they are. And your coming out didn't change that."
"Nope. Sure didn't."
"Well, you have to understand that things are different in Belpre. That's Bible-belt country down there. My folks are very conservative in politics, religion, and just about everything else. I can't understand how two people as well educated as they are could really believe every word in the Bible is God's truth, but that's what they claim. And, as I'm sure you know, the Bible-thumpers can find lots of evidence in the Old Testament that homosexuality is anathema."
"Oh, I know that, Tim, believe me. We've got people like that in Cleveland, too."
"So, then, Babe, you can understand that it will be hard for my mom and dad to accept that their only son, their pride and joy, is a queer."
"But, Tim, if they love you, won't they accept it?"
"I'd like to think so, but it won't be easy. And there's another problem. If I come out on campus, word is eventually going to get back to Belpre, and then my folks will have to deal with that. Even if they can accept my being gay, I don't know what the news would do to their social life. They could be ostracized, you know, subject, maybe, to nasty remarks by their friends in church and at the country club. And Dad might have to take flack from the people he works with at Dupont."
"I hadn't thought of it that way, Tim."
"OK, that's point one. Now, think about things here. As I recall, you mentioned last night that your coming out would impact Mark and your relations with your baseball teammates. You have to think about how those guys would react to your being gay. But you also have to realize that many of them will probably make the false assumption that your roomie of three years must be gay, too. Guilt by association is one of the most popular logical fallacies with homophobes."
"Tim, we don't really know how homophobic the guys on the team are."
"I should think you'd have SOME idea."
"Well, they're a great group. But I honestly can't guess how they'd all react."
"Cedric, all I'm saying is that you need to think seriously about both Mark and your other teammates before you do anything like coming out."
"I hear you."
"OK," I continued, "think of this. Let's go back to the guilt by association thing for a minute. You and Mark have been thick as thieves with Trey and Chaz for three years now. Mark may have no problems with your coming out. He has managed to be his own man with a gay father (though I understand Stan is out only to us, and not generally). So you and I come out, and suddenly all your friends are saying, `Well, those four were always together. Their apartments were next to each other. They went everywhere together. Greeley and Withers must be fags, too.' You all have friends on campus, and the questions are how they would react, and how important those friends are to you. Besides that, both Trey and Chaz have teammates who might react negatively if they suspected those guys were bi, as they both apparently are."
He stared beyond me, his gaze fixed on something out the window. The expression on his face was as serious as I've ever seen it when he looked back at me.
"Sheesh, Tim, we obviously can't do anything about outing ourselves on campus without talking with all three of the guys, can we?"
"'Fraid not, babe."
"Besides," he added, "I'm not really happy with what you said last night about your career. Do you think you could move to another school if they fired you here?"
"In the first place, I don't think that's how it would work. They'd probably be in big legal trouble if they fired me because I admitted to being bisexual. But they could give me a hard time. They could give me shitty courses at shitty hours. They could deny me raises, or make them minimal. When tenure time came around, they could just not give me tenure. And they could give me a hard time on my annual reviews in the meantime."
Ced began to look angry.
"I got a lot of job offers when I left Stanford. I think I probably could get a job either in California or in the East, where sexual orientation just wouldn't be an issue."
He brightened. "Then maybe you could get a job at someplace that has a good law school, and I could go with you."
"That's possible, Ced. But had you thought of what would happen after you got your degree? What then? You'd have to go where your career took you, and chances are we'd have to be apart again. Until such time as you made enough money to support us both, and I could be your houseboy."
That got the smile I love! Then he face grew serious again.
"Dammit, Timmy, it looks as if we're fucked. I guess we'd just as well give up the idea."
"Now way!" I said. "I'm not about to `give up the idea.' I'm sick of hypocrisy and pretending. I just want us to proceed fully aware of all the complications. What say we have a talk with the brotherhood when we can?"
"Well, we're seeing two of them this weekend. Maybe we'll have to talk to Markie separately when we can catch him."
"Sounds like a plan," I said, just before I launched myself at him and we began to suck face.
TREY:
Geoff's call puzzled me. I had known the dude for over a year, and we had worked together occasionally on his tennis game. He seemed nice enough, a little shy, but smart and, when he was comfortable, witty. I couldn't understand why he wanted to see me at his place. He seemed nervous when he made the call. But I was free the evening he suggested, and I wouldn't mind spending a while with Geoff. He was good to look at, God knows. I mean, Chaz and I were now a couple, but I don't think even my big lover would mind my olgling at a good-looking guy who, I guessed, wanted to ask for my help with something.
It was ten past eight, and the only reason I was still waiting for Geoff to show up was that he had left me a note on his door. You see, it was written on a Post-It note in the shape of a little yellow Smiley which reminded me of Chaz's boxers. I couldn't walk away from THAT! The note said, "Trey, gone swimming. Back soon." So I had stayed. In the distance I heard a car approaching. I turned to look. Baby-blue and cube-like, yeah, that was Geoff's. I smiled as I thought that Raul wouldn't be caught dead in a car that dumpy.
"Man, Trey, I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Geoff as he loped toward me. "There was a traffic tie-up on 4th St., or I would have been on time."
He was a sight. His blond hair was wet, so it looked dark, which made his skin seem even paler than usual. Around his cheekbones and on his neck were some blotches of red. Damn! The guy was nervous as all get-out! Why for God's sake?
"Don't panic," I said, smiling at him, trying to calm him, "I haven't waited that long. It's OK, dude."
He relaxed just a fraction and proceeded to unlock the door. He waved me in, and we took the stairs to the second floor. His apartment consisted of one big room which featured a kitchenette and a convertible couch with a coffee table. One wall was totally taken up by bookcases and a desk with the obligatory pc. There were two doors, one I assumed went to the bathroom, the other a glass sliding door that led to a small balcony with a view of part of the campus.
Geoff waved me to a seat on the sofa. Then he said, "I've got some cabernet open, or there's beer in the fridge. Can I get you something?
"Whatever you're having, Geoff, will be fine." I thought as hot and flustered as he seemed he'd come back with beers, but he had chosen the cab.
As he set a glass down in front of me on the coffee table, he said, "This is a little chilly from the fridge. But it will warm to proper drinking temperature pretty quickly, since it's so warm in here. Oh, it IS warm in here. I can open the windows, or put on the air conditioner. What would you prefer? I'm sorry I didn't leave the air on before I left."
"Geoff, it's your place. Whatever you want to do is fine." I took a sip of the wine, and it was too cool, tasted rubbery, as reds do when they are cold.
He went around opening windows, and soon a breeze was blowing in, making the curtains stand out a bit from the wall. Only then did he sit in a chair facing me across the coffee table.
He picked up his glass, made a gesture toward me with it, and said, "Cheers."
We drank.
I was really curious about why he had invited me over, but I was going to let him explain in his own good time. I cradled the glass between my hands to take the chill off the cabernet.
Geoff set his glass down. "Would you like me to put on some music? What kind to you like? I've got lots of jazz, if you like that."
"Yeah, Geoff, why don't you choose something that you like? And something that won't drown out the conversation we're obviously going to have?"
He put on a piano trio, you know, piano, bass, and drums, playing something cool -- smoky, rhythmic, and sexy.
"Hey, Geoff. I like that. What's the group?"
He turned bright red. I've never seen anyone blush like that but Tim.
"Oh, that's my group."
"YOUR group? I didn't know you were a musician!"
He still seemed embarrassed. "Yeah, the `Geoff Benton Trio.' We play Fridays and Saturday nights at Nighttown, in Shaker, and do other gigs as we can."
I listened for a few minutes, taking an occasional sip of the rapidly improving cabernet. They were great.
"Geoff, you've got to tell me how to find that restaurant. I want to come and hear you guys and bring some friends, OK?"
He beamed at that, fished in his wallet, and handed me a card with the name, address, and phone number of the restaurant on it. "It's just at the top of the hill on Cedar, and there's parking next door and across the street."
"My bro Ced Jones is from Shaker. I'll bet he's been there."
"No doubt. Nighttown's a local institution. They do jazz in the evenings on weekends and small classical groups on Sunday afternoon. Food's great, too."
We listened to the music for a while. Geoff was obviously an accomplished pianist, and I asked him if their cd's were available.
That seemed to embarrass him, as if he weren't nervous enough. "Yeah, we have one, but I didn't invite you over here to sell you our cd."
"OK, Geoff. I'd love to have a copy of it. But later. Now, are you gonna tell me why you did invite me over here?"
He smiled. Then he blushed again, all the way from his shirt collar to his hairline. Ced says Tim blushes that way sometimes. Geoff's hair had dried by that time and was once again very pale, contrasting with the blush. Geoff had something of a baby face, so he looked younger than he was. Damn good looking, actually. He had crossed his long legs and was drumming with his long pianist's fingers on the table beside his chair.
I waited.
"Ok, Trey, here goes. You remember the day I saw you and another guy wearing matching speedos at the pool?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember what you said?"
Oh, shit! I knew as soon as I had made that remark that it sounded like a sexual innuendo. I wished right then that I could have taken it back. It was just a quip, something "clever" to say in response to his Doublemint twins comment.
Warily, I said, "Yeah."
"I'm sorry. I'm just gonna say this. Then you can leave if you want. Are you and that dude you were with gay? Don't be too pissed with me, please. I have a reason for asking."
Double shit!! Now what was I going to say to Geoff? I didn't want to lie to the man because I liked him and hoped we could become better friends. But what kind of question was that from a guy that was only a casual acquaintance?
"Geoff, I don't think you and I know each other well enough for you to ask me a question like that. But let me ask you one. What have I done to make you think I might be gay?"
He took a big swallow of his wine. "Yeah, well, um. . . It's like this. You and the dude -- who oughta be a swimmer if he isn't -- were wearing matching suits. What was with that?"
"That's easy to explain. I was trying to get him to give up smoking, and I had sort of challenged him to swim with me. When he got there, he had this awful pair of baggies, and you know he couldn't race or swim distances with them, so I offered him a pair of mine, which just happened to be identical to the ones I was wearing."
Geoff seemed a little nonplussed, but he took another drink of wine and plunged on. "OK, then how about that remark you made to me about how you and the guy -- does he have a name, by the way?"
"Yeah, he's Steve Metz."
"OK, how you and Steve could double my pleasure."
Geoff seemed really nervous by this time. He was twirling the empty wine glass between his palms and beginning to sweat, I think. Whatever this was all about, it wasn't easy for him.
"Geoff, how about we both have another glass of wine?"
He seemed grateful for the suggestion, jumped up, went to the kitchen, and brought back the bottle. After refilling both our glasses, he set the bottle on the coffee table and flopped back in his chair.
While he was doing all that, my mind was racing. What was I going to tell him? I didn't want to lie to him. But telling him that I was gay was in effect outing my brothers, all of whom were pretty high-profile guys on campus. Not to mention Steve, who's as straight as six o'clock, so far as I know.
I played for time.
"Geoff, that remark was just some clever retort I blurted out. Just a response to your Doublemint quip. It didn't mean anything. You gotta believe me, man."
At that point, I think he was about to cry. "Jesus, Trey, I'm really sorry, man. It was really pushy of me to ask you those questions. I had no right to do that. It's just that I was . . . well, never mind. Like, I'm just sorry, OK?"
"You were what?"
"Huh?"
"You said you had no right to do that, it's just that you were . . . what?"
He stared out the slider that opened onto the little balcony. Then he swallowed. He reached for the wine and took a sip. Finally, he looked at me. Those baby blue eyes looked so sad I wanted to grab him and give him a big hug.
"Trey, promise you won't tell ANYBODY what I'm about to tell you?"
Well, you think I couldn't guess what was coming?
"Of course, Geoff. Whatever it is, it's just between us."
There were tears in his eyes by this time. "I'm gay, man, and I've never told anybody before. I don't know why I'm telling you. I was just so hoping you were gay because I feel so comfortable with you, and now you'll probably not want to have anything to do with me. But at least you DID promise not to tell anyone. You'll stick to that, won't you?"
Damn! Now what was I going to do?
"Geoff, babe, hold on. First of all, it's OK to be gay. You have nothing to be ashamed of. And, of course, I won't tell anyone. Your secret's safe with me. Actually, I'm honored that you chose me as the person you came out to."
"it's NOT OK to be gay. My mom raised me in the Presbyterian Church, and whenever the subject came up, I'd hear her fellow church folk talk about what an abomination gays are, how they are evil and filthy. If Mom knew, she'd have a stroke. And if it got out in our neighborhood in Columbus, she'd lose all her friends. But I've been about to explode for SO long. I needed to tell somebody, and I thought you might know what I'm feeling. I'm sorry I was wrong, Trey. You can go. Just remember your promise not to tell anyone, OK?"
Oh. My. God. What was I supposed to do? Didn't I owe it to Chaz, Ced, Mark, and Tim not to tell him anything until I had talked with them?. Geoff had obviously trusted me, but could I trust him? I ached for his problem. But what could I do?
As I thought about it, his need seemed the more pressing. I could always square it with the others later if need be. And my instincts told me Geoff was trustworthy.
It was my turn to play for time. I picked up my glass and took a swallow of the wine. He had been watching me closely, as if afraid to take his eyes off me.
I realized that my palms were sweaty. That never happened to me, not even on the court. I rubbed my hands on the legs of my cargos and took a deep breath.
"OK, Geoff. I promised not to tell what you just told me. You've gotta do the same."
"Sure, Trey," he said, looking a little brighter, "no problem."
"It was bound to happen sooner or later. I slipped there at the pool that day. I'm just glad it was with you and not some homophobe."
"Does that mean --"
I held up my hand. "Let me finish, please."
"Sure."
"First of all, you have to promise to draw no conclusions about any of my friends because of what I'm about to tell you. Can you promise that?"
"You got it." He seemed almost happy. I suppose he had figured where I was going.
"OK, Geoff. I'm bisexual. I've known it all my life. I've dated a lot, had my share of women in high school and here at the university, but guys turn me on, too. And, bro, it's OK. Nothing to be ashamed of. They say, God don't make no mistakes, and God made you the way you are."
"I wish I could believe that. I've worried so much about what my swim team friends would say, or, God forbid, Mother, if she knew."
"Yeah, tell me about it. I can't imagine what some of the guys on the tennis team would say -- except for one, and we'd better not get into that. And Richmond isn't the most enlightened city in the world, either. In fact, my brother Rob doesn't know about me, and I can't imagine how I'm ever going to tell him. Do you have any sibs?"
"No, there's just me, the only freak in the family, thank God."
"Stop that. You are NOT a freak! You are what you are. Your mother must be proud of you. You graduated from the university, were the star diver on the swim team, you play piano -- beautifully, I might add -- and you're working on a master's degree. What's not to be proud of?"
Geoff beamed at me. "Thanks, Trey. I appreciate you taking my question the way you did. And I hope I didn't force you to tell me something you didn't want to."
"No, to a guy like you, I can admit it. I'm just not out yet on campus, and I want to think a lot more before I decide whether I should come out. So. I take it you've never told anyone before that you're gay? It IS gay, isn't it, not bi?"
"Yeah, I have no interest in women. And I've known I'm this way since puberty. I just get SO frustrated. I haven't been able to be with any men, and I don't want to be with any women. What's a guy to do?"
"What the rest of us do, buddy." I made a jacking motion with my hand. I wished I could tell him about my experiences with Raul and Chaz, but I knew I was honor bound not to. "Meanwhile, don't lose hope, Geoff. You'll find a guy. There's somebody out there just longing for you. It's a matter of being open to opportunities, not closing any doors."
"Easier said than done. But thanks, man. Really. I was so worried that you were going to take a poke at me or go tell the whole campus, but decided that I had to tell somebody or just pop my cork. You seemed like someone I could talk to, and when I suspected you were gay, I decided to risk it. Like I said, thanks."
"Geoff, don't worry about it. I imagine it's been really tough for you, knowing you were gay all these years and not being able to tell anyone. Did you say you've never been with a man?"
"That's right. I've read a lot of stories on Nifty where guys played around with their friends when they were twelve or thirteen or so. I never even had that. I'm totally, completely virgin."
For a minute I felt like the married woman in that old play, "Tea and Sympathy," where she let this young guy screw her out of -- compassion? That was the "sympathy" part, I guess. Anyway, I really felt bad for Geoff that he'd never had sex with either a man or a woman. A month or so ago, I would have offered to show him the ropes, so to speak. Now, however, I had a commitment and intended to stick to it.
"Geoff, please understand that I'm not coming on to you, but I think you need a hug."
He smiled and came over to sit next to me on the sofa. We twisted to face each other and shared a long hug. He smelled like soap and shampoo from the shower he must have taken after swimming. I could feel the tension in his body at first, but the longer I held him, the more he seemed to relax.
He pulled back so he could look at my face. "Trey, are you in a relationship?"
"Yeah, I am. If I weren't, I'd be happy to . . . well, you know, introduce you to the wonders of mansex. But I can't."
"I understand. But we can still get together once in a while, can't we? Just to talk?"
"Count on it, babe. We're friends. We don't need to get together just to play tennis. I'm here for you whenever you need to talk, or if you just want to hang out. And maybe I can introduce you to some of my friends one of these days."
"Well, they may not want to have anything to do with me if you tell them I'm gay."
"In the first place my friends wouldn't care whether you're gay or not. Some of them are, some of them aren't. Sexuality shouldn't be an issue in friendship."
"Yeah, but that makes your friends somewhat unusual."
"You might be surprised. There are still homophobes around, in the locker room and everywhere else. But I honestly think things are getting better for guys like us."
"I hope you're right.
"Had you ever thought of going to a meeting of the campus Gay/Straight Alliance?"
"No."
"I haven't either. But that wouldn't necessarily be outing yourself, you know, since some straight men and women belong, too."
He thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, I see what you're suggesting. It might be a place to meet someone."
"As I said, though I've thought about it, I've never been there either. I have met the president, though, and he's an interesting guy."
"Well, going to one of those meetings might take more courage than I've got. But I'll think about it. Maybe if you decide to go, I could go with you?"
Maybe,' I thought, if the Brotherhood should decide to come out, we could ALL go.'
"Hey, I've got another bottle of the cab out there. What say we open it?"
Sensing that Geoff needed me to stay, I said, "What the hell, Geoff! I walked over here this evening. Bring on that new bottle, buddy!"
"Why don't you find another cd to put on while I'm getting the wine?"
"Great!" I enjoyed going through his large collection of jazz cd's. I chose one and popped it into the player.
After the first two chords, he said "'The Tokyo Concert.' Do you like Bill Evans?"
"One of my favorites."
He put my refilled glass on the coffee table and said, "How about that? Mine, too!"
He went back to his fridge and got out a hunk of white cheddar cheese. He brought that and some crackers to the table and put them down beside my wine.
We ate, drank wine, and talked jazz for another hour or so.
When we had nearly killed that second bottle, I stood up and said, "Geoffie, I'd better get home. Red wine often gives me a headache, and I can feel one coming on."
He was immediately apologetic. "Damn, Trey. I've kept you too long. I was having such a good time bullshitting with you I didn't realize how late it was getting."
"Hey, babe. I've had a blast! Thanks for the wine and the good talk. I really DO want to come hear you guys play. Soon!"
He smiled a little blearily. The wine was obviously getting to him, too. "I know some of your friends call you `Tiger.' Would it be all right if I did sometimes, too?"
"Yeah, I'd like that."
I held my arms out for a hug, and he moved into them. This time, he squeezed me tightly, and I could feel his hard cock sticking down his pant leg. I realized that I was hard, too. I brushed my lips lightly against his, and he shivered.
"Buddy, anytime you need a sympathetic ear, remember to call me. And let's get together soon, huh?"
"You bet." He put his arm around my shoulder and walked with me to the door. "And, Tiger, thanks."
"That's what friends are for, Geoff."
We hugged again, and I sort of wandered home, feeling pretty mellow.
When I got back to the apartment, Chaz was sitting in the living room wearing only a pair of black boxers. I smiled, remembering that he had once told me he only wore boxers when he expected someone to see him in them. Otherwise, he preferred briefs for the support. So he had dressed for me?
"Tiger, where've you been so long? I've been worried about you, man!"
"Oh, sheesh, Chaz, I should have called. Geoff had a problem, and I just couldn't leave as early as I thought. I'm sorry, lover."
He had a suspicious look on his face. "What kind of problem? Did he need to have his ashes hauled, or somethin'?"
I put one hand on each of his shoulders. Of course, I had to reach up to do that. "Big guy, do you trust me?"
"Well, yeah, I guess."
"You GUESS?"
"I mean, yeah, Trey, I trust you, babe."
"OK. So you've got to believe me when I say that Geoff and I talked and drank a lot of red wine. That's all. Besides, what would make you think Geoff's gay?"
"I don't have any reason to think so. It's just that I know he's a good-looking dude, and you spent the evening with him and, well, I worried, that's all."
Chaz didn't know what I had passed up that evening in order to honor my commitment to him, and I wasn't about to throw that in his face. Besides, I couldn't tell Chaz that Geoff really was gay until I had Geoff's permission.
"Studly, I'm a little wobbly on my pins right now, but I think I could lie down just fine. Why don't you fuck me silly?"
He smiled his adorable lop-sided smile, picked me up, and carried me to the bedroom. You can imagine what happened after that.
STEVE:
I couldn't get Trey, Cedric, and Chaz out of my mind. I knew Trey better than the others. He seemed to go out of his way to be my friend. I hardly knew Jones at all, but he and Trey were obviously tight. And there was more to Chaz Greeley than meets the eye, too.
I've always been such a loner, especially here at the university. At least in high school I was friends with most of the guys on the swim team. It would sure as hell be nice to have some buddies, and those three seemed to come as a set. I knew they were really close. There was a forth somewhere, Ced Jones's roommate, but I had never met him and didn't know much about him. Oh, yeah, he plays on the baseball team, I think. Mark something. Mark Morgan?
I kept coming back to that day at the pool. I suppose the speedo thing could have been like he said, he just wanted me to swim my best. He was right, I couldn't have done that in the baggy trunks I took with me. The dude had a whole locker full of speedos, too, in different colors. He must be rich. And he's a tennis player, not a swimmer. I say that, but he sure put me in my place at the pool that afternoon. Well, one good thing came of that. I have quit smoking. Still do a little weed, but the cigarettes are in the past. I got to thinking that maybe the kids were seeing all the stains on my fingers. One of `em even said he smelled it in my hair.
Withers had to have meant something sexual -- and gay -- by the remark he made to the tall blond dude that said something about us being the Doublemint twins, didn't he?. We could double his pleasure? Is there any way to take that except as something gay?
Then, when I asked Chaz Greeley, he wouldn't give me a straight answer. Woops, no pun intended there. But if Trey is straight, why wouldn't Chaz have just said so? Most guys would have been indignant if someone asked that about their friend. But Chaz never denied Trey is gay. He just said he couldn't imagine Trey doing anything to make me think he was. Then he said I should ask Trey. That's pretty equivocal.
`So, Metz, take a deep breath here. Suppose Withers and Jones are gay. Suppose they are a couple. Would it make that much difference? Are you afraid if you keep on being seen with Trey, people will think you're gay?'
I thought about that for a while. And you know what? I don't care what they think. I like Trey. I like his big buddy Chaz. I don't have all that many friends here on campus anyway. I don't have any trouble getting dates. So fuck `em. I'll just go on being buddies with Trey -- and his friends, if it works out that way. Trey's never come on to me, and I don't think he would. If he ever does, I'll just let him know I'm not interested. Meanwhile, I hope Chaz and Trey do invite me to their place to have a few beers and hang out some evening.
GEOFF:
Strangely, the first sentiment I felt after Trey was gone was slight disappointment. Now I finally knew someone who was at least a little bit like me, but it was clear that I wouldn't get my hands on him. Then I pulled myself together. What a stupid thing to think. So yeah, he wouldn't be my first sexual partner, which of course was a shame. He was sexy, seriously good-looking, and had a personality to match all that.
On the other hand, maybe I had gained something today that was just as good, something that right now I needed even more. His friendship. It was obvious that this talk hadn't been easy for him, either.
Suddenly it dawned on me. I had come out to someone. Finally! And it had gone well. Slowly a smile started to spread over my face, getting wider and wider. I had come out to Trey Withers, and we were still friends. And he trusted me. Now there was a good thought! I felt like celebrating, just here alone with myself.
Still smiling, I put on an old recording, Barbara Thompson, a favorite of mine. Then I poured the last of the wine into my glass. I took a sip. Mmm. Way better. Now that it had aired for a while and had the right temperature, it tasted like a red should, at least for me. Dark, rich, a hint of black currants, a bit spicy. Heady stuff. I took sip after sip, until I felt the glow spreading through my whole body.
I set the glass back on the table and got rid of my clothes. All of them. Then I stretched out on the couch, languidly. Trey Withers, my friend. Sounded good. I remembered the tennis lessons he gave me. How, when it was his turn to serve, he threw the ball high with his left hand, took a big swing, the racket in his right, his body taut. How his shirt used to slip upward then, and his six-pack became visible, and the slight blond treasure trail leading south.
At that point my straining cock which I'd been jacking leisurely all the time oozed a nice glob of precum, and things got pleasantly slippery down there. I squeezed and milked some more of that stuff from my John Thomas (yeah, not very original, but a classic), and spread it all over him, concentrating on my cockhead and that sensitive area on its underside. While one hand was busy with JT, the other made its way from my nips, which were hard as pebbles by now, down to my balls, fondling them, caressing them. My thoughts wandered. I was not to draw conclusions about his buddies, Trey had said. I tried not to. Too late. The hand on my cock sped up, I was lost. In my mind appeared an image of that roomie of his, Chaz Greeley. Such a jock couldn't be gay, could he? What a body he had! A tower of power!
Jacking still faster, I imagined them kissing, holding each other close. Oh God! A heat wave raced through my body. I felt my balls drawing up, every muscle in me locked tight for a second. And then I exploded, spilling hot seed all over myself, yelling out in a wild kind of joy. I shot and shot, working my tool till I couldn't stand it any more. Afterward, I lay there, panting, sweaty, more at peace with the world than I had been in a long time. Before I got up for a necessary shower, I said "Cheers!" to myself and finished off the wine in my glass, the last of the second bottle.
CHAZ:
Late one afternoon Trey came in. He'd been playing tennis with someone, I think. He had a dvd from Blockbuster in his hand.
"Something for us to watch tonight, Tiger?"
"Yeah, babe."
"What is it?"
"O."
"Oh, what?"
"No, dude, that's the name of the movie."
"Oh! What's it about?"
"One of the reasons I got it is that it's about basketball."
"Cool."
"Another is that it's based on Shakespeare's `Othello.'"
"Aw, Trey, you don't expect me to watch that, do you?"
"Yeah, babe, I do. You'll like it. Besides, it's got Josh Hartnett in it."
"Josh who?"
"Hartnett. He is the guy who starred with Ben Affleck in `Pearl Harbor.'"
"Oh."
"Well, I think he's majorly cute."
"Withers, you're such a fag!"
He flipped me the bird and put the dvd down. Then he came over to me and we had a face sucking session. I'd seen Ced put his hands under Tim's butt and pull him up for a kiss, and I found myself doing the same thing to my buddy. His ass felt great, really firm, so I began to knead it as we kissed.
Finally we pulled apart, both of us out of breath, and he said, "Better stop that. Let's save it until we get to bed, OK?"
I pretended to be crushed and said, "Well, if you insist."
"Chaz, I've got an idea. Didn't you tell me you had invited Steve Metz to come over some evening?"
"Yeah."
"Let's invite him over to have some beers and watch this with us."
"OK by me, bro."
Trey called, caught Steve at his apartment, and asked him if he'd like to come over. Apparently he said yes, so Trey suggested he should come about 8:00.
We were both starved, so we chopped up onion and garlic, fried it with chopped hamburger, dumped a can of spaghetti sauce in on top of it, and cooked pasta.
Henry Lee always twirled his fork in a soup spoon when he ate pasta. I teased him that he must have learned that at Richmond Country Day. He laughed and said, no, that's the way he learned to eat it at home.
"Well, dude, down in Cincinnati in the boondocks, I learned to eat spaghetti by cutting it with the edge of my fork."
He smiled at that, and then changed the subject.
"Chaz, there's something we need to talk about before Steve gets here."
"What's that?"
`If Steve is going to become our friend . . . NO, he's already my friend. And I think you will like him as you get to know him. Oh, hell, what I'm trying to say is . . . ."
"You want us to tell him about ourselves, don't you?"
He looked really surprised.
"Well, you don't need to look so flabbergasted. You've said that I'm not as stupid as I look."
"I never said that! I've said you pretend to be a dumb jock, and you're a -- smart jock?"
"Look, Tiger, Steve already suspects that you're gay from the prank you and Ced played that day on Tim. After what you said to Geoff, he is probably sure you are."
"That's what I've been worried about."
"Do you think you can trust him?"
"I think so, yes."
"Well, dude, I don't think I'm ready to tell the world that you and I are lovers, but if, and this is a big IF, you think we can trust him, we should probably tell him we're bi,"
He beamed. "Exactly, big guy! We owe it to him to let him back out of a friendship with us if that bothers him."
"I guess we should. Wow! First my parents, and now someone here. Someone besides the brothers, I mean. This has all happened so fast."
"Yeah, but just think. Now we have each other in a whole new and fabulous way."
I reached across the table and ruffled his hair. He put his hand on mine and held it there a while.
"But, babe, you gotta promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"You gotta be the one to tell Steve. I think I might get tongue-tied or say the wrong thing. You'll know what to say a lot better'n me."
"OK, but you feel free to jump in with anything if you think I'm forgetting something."
"Right."
So, we cleaned up the kitchen and then just kicked back and talked about what we had done that day.
When Steve arrived, we all shook hands. I asked if he'd like a beer, and he said he would, so I got three Heinekens.
After we had chatted about this and that for a while, Steve asked, "You did say you wanted to watch a video, didn't you?"
"Yeah, Steve," Trey said, "You sure you'd like to watch this? We don't have to."
"No, what you told me on the phone sounds interesting. And Mead would be so impressed that we're watching something based on Shakespeare. In fact, you've got me curious."
"As it happens," my buddy said, "it was Tim, er, Dr. Mead who told me about it."
I shoved the disk into the player and pushed the Play button. Steve and Trey sat at the ends of the sofa, and I took one of the chairs.
I fetched us more beer and brought out some chips and dip later for us to munch and sip on while we watched.
I enjoyed the flick more than I had expected to. I don't know what it had to do with Shakespeare, but I could relate to it. It was about two prep school basketball players. This guy who was the star of the team, a guy called "O," dissed his best friend in front of the whole school. Or at least the friend thought so, so he got revenge on "O." Pretty sad ending, though. Steve and Trey seemed to like it, but as I said to them, I guess I don't like tragedy.
When it was over, we talked about it for a while. I got us all another round of beers.
Then Trey said, "Steve, I understand you think I'm gay."
I thought Steve was going to choke on his beer. Some of it came out his nose. He had to grab a napkin from the coffee table and wipe his face. Even though his skin is dark, I could see the blush on his cheekbones.
When he could talk, he said, "Jeez, Trey. You took me by surprise with that one."
"Well, you must have known my roomie here would tell me about your talk."
He looked sheepish. "I hadn't thought of that."
"Well, look, Steve, Chaz and I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. But let me ask you this. Would it make a difference to you if I was gay?"
He took a big pull on the bottle and then seemed to think about that for a while.
"My first reaction is no. You've gone out of your way to be a friend to me this summer, and I appreciate that. I like you. So, I guess it wouldn't make any difference personally --so long as you didn't hit on me."
"It seems to me that, after what you've been through with those guys at the muny pool, you wouldn't want to get anywhere close to a gay guy."
"Oh, I'm not going to let those assholes run my life."
Well, the question was still out there, and Trey hadn't answered. Steve and I both waited, fascinated to see what he would say next. He seemed to be taking his time, thinking about how to go on with the conversation.
Trey lost that sleepy look he often had, and his eyes bored into Steve's. I've had him give me that look once in a while, and, believe-you-me, it gets him my undivided attention.
"Steve, if you asked a question like whether I'm gay, you have to be prepared to treat the answer as a confidence and not tell ANYONE. Got that?"
Steve looked straight back at Trey. "Look, I had no right to ask the question in the first place. It was simple curiosity on my part. I'd say let's just forget it, but I know we can't do that. Besides, I think I have my answer. If you were straight, you'd probably have thrown my ass out of here by now, or you'd be yelling and screaming or something."
Trey laughed at that. "OK, Steve, maybe you're right, but you haven't answered my question. Can I trust you not to tell anyone what we've talked about this evening?"
"Sure. I promise."
OK,' I thought to myself, here it comes.'
"So you thought that I am gay and that Ced Jones and I might be lovers?"
Steve looked embarrassed as he said, "Yeah. It crossed my mind."
"Well, Steve, let me tell you that I am NOT gay, and Ced is NOT my lover."
That surprised me for a minute, but then I figured out what he was going to say next. I took a deep breath and rubbed my hands on my shorts.
The Tiger continued to look directly into Steve's eyes. "I'm not gay. I'm bisexual. I've screwed a number of women in my day. I love women. I love sex with women. But now I've found my lover. And this big lunk you see here is him. Er, he. It?"
That lightened the mood, and we all chuckled.
Then Steve said, "Oh, jeez. And I actually asked you, Chaz, about Trey and Jones being a couple. What an ass I made of myself. I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
"No problem, Steve."
He went on, "I can't believe Chaz Greeley, THE Chaz Greeley is gay."
"Not gay, Steve, bisexual. Like Trey said, we've walked both sides of the street. But I have to be honest, and, remember, we're counting on you to keep quiet about this, right now I like this side of the street a lot." I winked at Tiger, and he smiled back with that sweet smile of his.
"Now, Steve," Trey said, "we've been totally honest with you. We hope it won't make a difference to our friendship. And we're counting on your discretion. Chaz and I may eventually come out on campus, but that should be OUR decision, when WE are ready to do it."
He held his hands up, palms out. "Yeah, Trey, I hear you. Trust me."
"Well," I said, "it looks like we have to."
"Now, Steve, one more thing."
"Yeah?"
"Ced Jones, his roommate Mark Mason, Chaz, and I have been best buds since freshman year. Don't jump to conclusions about that, OK? Ced and I are very close friends. He and I have nothing between us sexually and never have. Please remember that, and don't do anything to jeopardize his reputation on campus."
"Got it, Trey. And, listen, guys, you've been great about this. I'm sorry if I've offended you. I'd really like to have you guys as friends, and I promise I'll never tell anyone about what you've told me."
My buddy went over to Steve, who stood up. They shook hands. I went over and shook hands with Steve, too.
"Let's have one more beer to celebrate the new friendship," I said.
"Are you driving or walking, Steve?" Trey asked.
"I walked. It's not all that far to my place."
"In that case, how about it?"
He grinned, seemed to relax a little, and said, "Sure, why not?"
STEVE:
When Chaz offered me another beer to celebrate the new friendship, as he said, I thought that sounded cool. We talked for a while about just general stuff. Then we had another beer, and I have no recollection of what we talked about. We were just having fun being together. A little after midnight I said I had better go while I could still walk. I thanked them for being so open with me and for the beer.
As we were saying goodbye, Trey looked as if he wanted to hug me and then thought better of it. I shook hands with both of them and started home.
I've never been a gay-basher. Hell, I can't see myself bashing anybody. But I guess I'm not a homophobe. I've never had any gay friends, and, frankly, the thought of what gays do when they're together makes me squirm.
But I did like Trey and Chaz, even if they were gay -- or bi, as they insisted -- and I was glad to have them as friends.
Then I wondered if hanging around with them would make other people think I was gay. Then I realized that those two weren't out on campus, so it didn't matter. Unless they were to decide to come out, anyway.
Something else occurred to me. Withers and Ced Jones were pretty tight. Did that mean Jones was like them? And the two of them obviously had some sort of special connection with Tim Mead.
Get a grip, Metz,' I said to myself. You're seeing gays all over the place. Next you'll decide there's a gay conspiracy to take over the world. Besides, the Iceman, gay? Tim Mead? No way!'
(Chapter 21 will be posted in about two weeks. --T.M.)