El Paso Chapter 1
WARNING: If it is illegal for you to be reading these stories or you find them disgusting or immoral, please refrain from reading further. Must be 18+ to read! Any characters, places, or people depicted in this story is entirely in the fantasy and imagination of the writer and in no way reflects real persons living or dead. If any people, places, or actions depicted in this story reflect real life events or situations it is entirely by accident or coincidence.
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El Paso
`Out in the west Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl,
Night time would find me in Rosa's cantina, the music would play and Felina would swirl'
Except that in my particular case, its Felino, and Felino is a Mexican boy. Felino Morales is 25 years old with dark eyes like in the Marty Robbins song. The object of my desire is lithe and small, standing at around 5'8" or 5'9", perhaps 150 pounds. His wavy black hair glistens under the multicolored lights crisscrossing the ceiling of the patio area of Rosa's.
But before I launch into this story, let me introduce myself. My name is Otto Schneider. I'm 26 and about as opposite from Felino as it comes, I'm 6'1", 190lbs, light (almost white) blonde hair and my eyes are the color of sea foam.
Me and Felino went to school together; we've been friends since we met in the 3rd grade. My infatuation with my friend started in high school gym class. More than once I had to do a quick rinse and leave the showers due to springing a boner after furtively glancing at his beautiful body from the fringe of my peripheral vision. Luckily, he never seemed to notice and nothing was ever said about it. Lately, though, I've been obsessing over him. I spend every free night where he works in his Tia Rosa's cantina. I don't hold him up from doing his job or anything. I just sip my drink and watch him as he does the waiter's dance from table to table, taking care of his customers. I usually come in later in the evening and stay long enough that he's worked off his deodorant and I try to make a point to sit where he'll pass me often so I can catch a just a whiff of his essence as he passes by.
Of our old high school class, there are only a few now who aren't married and settled down. I know why I'm not in that group, but I've often wondered why Felino hasn't joined them. He's good looking enough, I would think he could have whichever girl he desires. Maybe he's picky and waiting for just the perfect one.
I'm here way later than usual tonight. I was kind of feeling down, so I'm into my 6th(?) round, I think. Pretty sure Rosa will balk at bringing me another one, so I'm nursing this one slowly. It's 10 o'clock and the rain is pouring down outside. The place is almost empty now and Rosa just gave me that go home look. Once the couple in the corner leaves, she'll be ready to shut down and call it an early night.
Felino comes over and takes up the barstool next to me. I can feel his body heat radiating toward me, and the faint smell of faded cologne mixed with his own personal musk. The canned Norteño music stops and the place becomes silent but for the chatting of the corner couple and the sound of Rosa washing dishes in the kitchen. Felino's cousin Roberto is sent to the door to flip the sign to `CLOSED'. Finally, the couple takes the hint and walks up to pay their tab and leave.
"Where will you go to drown whatever sorrow, you're drowning now, amigo?" Felino asks me. I just shrug my shoulders. I stand up and start fumbling for my keys.
"Ayy, no no no!" shouts Rosa through across the pass-through window as she sees me swaying from too much alcohol. I take my hand out of my pocket and make a motion as if waving away her objection, but Felino is quick. From behind me his hand jabs into my pocket and grabs my keys. And now I have two problems; I have no way home, and I have a raging hard-on from the proximity of Felino's hand to my junk.
"So, Otto, you'll be coming with me" Felino says, putting his arm around my waist; my arm falls almost as if made to fit around his shoulders.
"Mañana, Rosa!" he yells to the back, as I'm guided/dragged into the foyer. We take a stumbling run through the heavy rain to my truck and he stuffs me into the passenger side on top of all the fast-food garbage I've accumulated. He runs around to the other side and gets in.
My old Ford truck is a testament to longevity of the breed. It's a 1967 model that belonged to my granddad and is equipped with a standard `3 on the tree' shifter. Felino's rode in the truck with me before but he's never driven it. I tell him the shift pattern and after he kills the motor twice, he finally gets the clutch right and the truck starts moving. As we head toward his place, I get very amused watching him panic when it won't shift and though my laughter, I tell him about double clutching. Eventually we make it to his place, which despite only being about 5 miles way, has taken us the better part of a half hour. The rain's slacked off a little but we still get soaked again going in. The cool rain has pretty much killed my buzz but he still won't let me have my keys back, so I follow him into the apartment. I don't want to get his sofa wet so I just stand by the door, staying on the rug. He runs into the bedroom and comes out with a long robe and tells me to take the wet clothes off and he'll throw them in the dryer, then he disappears again into the bedroom.
I stand there a minute contemplating my options; I can make it weird by turning around and walking home, or I can let him dry my clothes and pray that I don't throw a rod the whole time the clothes are drying. I look out the window, and the rain seems to have picked up again so, against my better judgement I start taking off my clothes. I put on the robe and tie the sash around my waist. When he comes back into the living room, he is in a robe too. I hand him my clothes.
"The underwear too, man, you can't wear wet underwear, you'll get chafed" he says.
"Commando" I reply. He raises an eyebrow and takes off to the little alcove off the kitchen where his washer and dryer are.
"Do you always wash your wallet and cellphone?" he jokes. I'd forgot to empty my pockets. Okay, so maybe I was still buzzed a little. When he hands me the phone, I see a Grindr notification has popped up. Oh my God, I wonder if he saw that. So far, I've been too afraid to meet up with anybody on an app like that but I do my share of flirting.
"Come on and have a seat" he says. I follow him over to the sofa.
"Now, what's the problem that has you so into the bottle tonight?" he asks.
"I don't know, sometimes life just gets to be a pain in the ass. I needed some numbing tonight" I say.
"Does it have anything to do with that dude on Grindr?" he says. Oh, fuck, here goes this friendship.
"No...I was hoping you didn't see that" I say sheepishly.
"No biggie, `migo, I browse it sometimes but I've never hooked up with anybody" he says matter-of-fact like.
"Yeah, me neither...wait...what?" It just hit me that he basically just came out to me. "You're not...wait a minute."
"Yes, I am too" he says, "by the way, I'm flattered that you come to stare at me every night, but, dude, Tia Rosa thinks you're an alcoholic now."
"Well...my problem..." I start, then hesitate, "well...my problem is you. I mean I guess its really me, but I have a schoolboy crush on you. I think I've lusted after you since we were in gym together in the 9th grade. I don't expect you to do anything about that, but since we're all truthful and shit tonight, that's my story. I come to look at you and be close to you, then usually go home and crash or if I'm really horny I go home and beat off thinking about you."
Felino laughs and says "I'm...flattered...I guess? But, pindejo, why have you never said anything or made any move?"
"What if you weren't...you know... and I made a move. Then you would have beat the shit out of me or at the very least we wouldn't be friends anymore."
"Dude, what a load of wasted time. There's only a few of us around here, at least that I know of. I tried hooking up with Rusty, but he has a thing about black guys so he wasn't interested in me. Then I tried it with Dennis. Boy that was a misread situation, he was friendly but when I got too close, he swelled up my eye for me. Turns out he is just metrosexual or something, he damn sure reads as gay but he likes the split tails. So, then, I suspected, there was you. But every time I would try to get close to you, like in the showers at school, I'd always shower right next to you, but you'd rinse off real quick and run to the locker room so I figured you were straight too. Besides, what self-respecting gay guy would drive a beat up F100 with a manual transmission?"
"Have you ever, you know, been with anybody?" I asked softly.
"Outside of jacking off in the restroom with somebody, no. I've been afraid of HIV and all that" he said.
"Me too" I said "and I really want to save it for when I find somebody I love, as corny as that sounds."
"Look Otto, you obviously have that lust thing going for me and I won't like that I'm attracted to the tall blonde types, maybe we could give it a try and see if there's really anything there?" he says. I don't answer for a minute as I'm lost in those deep brown, almost black eyes.
"There is literally nothing I'd like more" I say, and lean it trying to kiss him. He pulls back.
"I'm not that kind of boy" he says smiling, "you must follow tradition and court me properly."
"Then why did you have me strip and sit on your couch in a bathrobe" I say.
"Because you're my friend and you were cold and wet, nada mas" he replied.
BZZZZZZZ!!! The dryer finish signal is going off. Felino jumps up to get the clothes, briefly flashing me with a fraction of a second's view of his semi-erect brown tube before quickly re-securing his robe and heading into the kitchen. He hands me my clothes and takes his into the bedroom.
"You won't even put clothes ON in the same room with me?" I call out in his direction, chuckling.
"TRADITION! COURTING!" He shouts back laughing. I just shake my head. This is going to be quite the adventure, I think.
Satisfied that I've sobered up enough to drive he gives me back my keys which I shove in the right-hand pocket of my jeans. I put the wallet in my back pocket and slide the phone in the left front pocket and stand there.
"Yes?" he asks.
"Do I get a goodnight kiss or anything?" I whine.
"This is not even a first date proper, so I think this will be only a friendly bro hug" he says, pressing his side to mine and giving me a quick pay on the back.
"Lame" I say, "good night."
"Tomorrow, it begins. When you come to admire me, you will get only sweet tea, no alcohol. We have to end Rosa's fear that you are an alcoholic. She is very protective."
"Ok. I'll see you tonight" I say. Walking through the slight remaining drizzle to the truck, I realize this is the happiest I've felt in years.
Lambodara 4/16/21
This is a little story that just came to mind after hearing the Marty Robbins song. I don't know if there will be anymore, depends on interest or lack thereof.