This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It may contain consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason.
Copyright 2009 Jade. All Rights Reserved. Do not post, copy, or use this story in any manner without my permission.
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In the Shadows of Our Lives
Part 1 - On Broken Wings XV ~ My Darkest Night [Tough Subject] ~
It's been a long day by the time I get to work. Stressing out over Tim after my chat with Deanna didn't really chase away my anguish over screwing around with Brent. In fact I've been pretty good today about pushing my worry about Tim to the back of my mind, like always.
Once at work it all becomes a background conversation in my head. We're in the midst of a hot spell here in Houston, so a lot of people without air conditioners vegetate in climate controlled malls. To compensate for the high energy demands on the power grid the mall goes to half lighting or something and has the stores use only what lighting is necessary.
All day long I have a lot of bored people constantly picking things up, looking, putting them back and leaving. My sales may just be a record low, and I have a hard time keeping an eye out for sticky fingers. When Neil calls I invite him over to help keep an eye on people and bribe him with McDonalds afterwards.
He arrives with Kevin in tow and wait for me to close up the store, heading to McDonalds as promised once I close up. All night long the tension is visible between Kevin and I. Mutual apprehension I guess. For me it's partly that I finally admitted to him. He's the first person in my circle for me to out myself to. For him it's that he couldn't even manage to keep his fucking mouth shut for a full 24 hours before trying to tell the whole world. In my head I keep thinking up ways to torture Kevin.
My mind is only partly on the conversation going on outside my head. Neil's droning on about a fight that he had with Tania and what a bitch she can be at times and then just slips into the conversation that he wished he had someone on the side to relieve sexual frustration with like us.
Kevin and I are dumbfounded. Say what? We both voice our surprise.
"Huh?"
"What?"
"Well Kevin here is a slut and tells the girls that he fucks around with some sob story about missing his home and his ex girlfriend. But word has it according to Emily Sanchez that he's Quick-draw McGraw apparently," Neil explains.
Kevin cuts in, "Emiliy's a hoe."
Ignoring Kevin, Neil turns to me, "And you Jonny, well c'mon. Some people think you're queer, some of us know you are. You guys did something together didn't you? You're totally acting like it. Kevin does a lot of kiss and tell, but not one without the other."
"I don't know what you talking about," I start to object.
Neil scorns, "Right! Whatever. You stole Rice from us, you're dating that kid that was hitting on you at one of our games, and you all but walk into walls because you stare at Hunter. Now you've smoked Kev's pole and it shows."
I must look mortified because he changes his tone, "Don't get me wrong. It's your thing. Man, it's your life. Of anyone you know, who's more philosophical and open minded than me? I've been bugging Tim to talk to you forever about either coming out or doing a better job of hiding it. People are seriously starting to talk you know, like this guy yesterday. So I figure you two did something the night before."
Kevin objects, "Who says we did anything?"
Neil smiles, "Your Mom when I got off her this morning for starters, and you two just scream it."
I'm glaring at both of them, "Apparently Kevin's mouth could still flap even with the biggest dick in the history of the world corked in it, but I've never fucked around with him."
Kevin drops a bomb, "Remember that night we were grinding?"
Neil brushes him off again, "Whatever, you let him. Anyways. Kevin, he can get away with it because he chases the titties too, but man, figure it out. You're either in or out Farrows. Around here, if I were you I'd stay in the closet, keep your boyfriend on the low down and away from school and not mess around with Kevin here."
"Right," I answer.
He's not done yet, "Oh, and stop staring so obviously at Hunter, he's gonna figure it out sooner or later and either kick your ass or hump it. My vote is that he's gay too and would jump your bones, but if you guys haven't hooked up yet...well, maybe he isn't interested. You know? But sooner or later people other than Tim and I are going to start noticing you noticing Hunter."
The fact that it's true doesn't much help the fact that Neil has just outed me. I want to run, I want to get the fuck out of here and cry. I pick up my fries and soda, "Screw this. I'm not gay Neil. I'm outta here."
We head to Freed Park by my house where we can talk more.
After talking about Neil and Tania's split and summer long separation along the way until we were seated under one of the huge Weeping Willows, Neil starts the conversation from McDonalds up again, "So you guys did do it. I'd watch out for this one Kevin; he a serial monogamist, or so we thought."
Kevin seems to have to make this about him, "Can I say something here? Yeah, so I got tea-baged by Little Justin. That doesn't constitute anything. I was drunk and passed out while you fucking perverts took pictures of his little cock and balls on my face. I think that's illegal anyhow."
"Like duh! So what," Neil says.
"Getting back to Jon, I let him do the bump and grind because I wanted to see how far he'd go. But, and I mean huge but, at least I wasn't out camping with him making love under the stars. What do I know though, you're the one that told me Jon stayed over last night with Justin's brother. So there! We, he and I, have not had sex. "
What's it matter? I admitted to Kevin a couple days ago, and slept with Brent last night. Neil can't really know much about Brent, and I can argue having come out to Kevin.
Casting a look at Kevin I smile inwardly at how much of an ass he is. At least in that I was always right. Maybe I'll see if Deanna's fiancée feels like roughing Kevin up a bit for me. No one around here knows or would recognize Scott, and I'm sure he'd do it for me just for the sheer fun of it. I store that in the back of my mind as I address the situation currently at hand, "Why does it even matter to you, Neil?"
Neil suggests, "What's it matter to me? Lots. Just that things get weird for starters. You and Daniel were hard to deal with. Tania knew Daniel forever, like they grew up through school together. She needed someone to talk to about it all, and that's how she and I ended hooking up in the first place. And now, with your new boyfriend? At least it's easier because you do that on the side and we hardly ever even notice it on you."
He shakes his head, "Fuck, I can't believe you cheated on him with Brent though. You are so hopelessly protective of Blondie we would have sworn you were a true romantic."
I can't control it, silent tears start to flow. Hoping they go unnoticed I relate, "I don't have a boyfriend asswipe. Daniel and I were just like Tim and you. You aren't riding Tim bone are you? Just because we didn't have girlfriends didn't make us gay."
Neil puts a hand on my shoulder and then pulls me into a manly hug, "Well, I'm happy that at least you didn't bother denying it all."
I mumble, "There's nothing left to deny."
I see a slightly different side of Neil. He's a dreamer and a debater. Sometimes he has a hard time seeing that other people have convictions too, let alone feelings. Usually he'll go on for hours when he's hot on a topic. He'll completely miss when he's insulted other people. So I've come to see him as somewhat callous when he thinks he's right.
Tonight he shows his sincere side, responding to my muttered words, "Not wholly, no. Tania and me, Tim, Nat, and Kevin know. Other guys say so, but we've tried to defend you. Debbie Van De Berg totally caught you guys holding hands didn't she? We all thought so. At least Train still swears for you that you're not. When Michael attacked you guys with a bat you were pretty much done for if not for Train."
I nod my agreement.
"Personally? I think it's because Train is a closet case and had a thing for Daniel or you. I also think Coach Maynes was manipulating Train to look out or stick up for you. It wasn't my business so I stayed out of it until I swung by Justin's place this morning. He showed me you and Brent all naked in bed with condom wrappers lying around."
I must look totally terrified.
Neil's nonchalant, "Don't worry; Brent told him he's bi ages ago. A few of us know. Not many. If Kevin ever tells anyone like the shit he pulled at baseball yesterday, there are guns that will be pointed his way."
"Whatever," Kevin comments.
Neil glares at Kevin and then focuses back on me, "I mean Kev, this is Texas after all and we don't take to outsiders stirring up our shit. So whatever Jon, play your cards right and you're still a marginally unconfirmed rumor. My advice is to stay that way, if you don't want you're head kicked in."
Kevin interrupts with an off key comment, "Way I used to hear it, in Texas there are steers and queers. If you're not a cowboy here you're queer. You're not a cowboy either Neil, does that mean you and Justin are queer? You know, peeping in on Jon and Brent and whatnot?"
"Thank you for your input Buffalo Bill. Seriously, keep flapping your gums and you will get a cap in your ass," Neil drips sarcasm at Kevin before turning back to me, "It's not like we mind Jon. Tim knows you like guys, he's seen you check him out. He's pretty sure anyway, I think he denies that he knows to me, just to be fair to you. And he tells me everything, you know. Hell, he tells me how many times he manages to pants you in his pool all the time just to make you dance about the subject!"
Neil's been on quite a roll tonight and doesn't see a need to stop now, "Maybe it was Tania feeling bad for you at first that we got involved with Coach Maynes after Daniel got sent away, but we made the decision that you were our friend too. We could have abandoned you, you know. We didn't, so why don't you just trust us and maybe not be so obvious anymore?"
That stings me, "Sure. If we're friends and I am a faggot why put conditions on our friendship, like my remaining in the closet?"
Neil rises to the debate, "Listen to what you just said. Think about it. Fuck as many guys as you can if you want. At least someone will be getting some action around here. Shit, become an item with Kevin if you want! That is if you suddenly decide you like assholes; pun intended! Or, be like you used to be. Careful, quiet; an enigma."
I counter, "So, stay in the closet is what you really mean? People already label me as gay just because Daniel and I were good friends. We never once did anything in public for the record. Ever. The holding hands? He really did fall and I was keeping him up. Should I get a fake girlfriend too? I know around here if I were to actually act gay, I'd be dead meat for sure so it wouldn't matter anyway."
Neil clarifies, "No, I don't mean that. I mean, like keep it on the low down like you always have. If you have a boyfriend he's more than welcome to hang with us, unless he's a dick. Like totally when it's just us. And I don't mean that as in we'd be embarrassed to be seen with you and him in public kinda way. I mean that like it's safer for him to be around when it's just the few of us."
He shrugs his shoulders at me, "We accept you, but we can't protect you from everyone. We'll keep your secret if you want it to be a secret and be cool with you. You're not entirely in the closet so to say now anyway, what with the newest boyfriend and all, and I don't expect you to be anything but yourself."
I can see that Neil has a lot of Texas in him in contrast to the few people I've encountered elsewhere. Compared to Tim too. He's not a bigot, and I can see that he means well. It's just that his ideas are still a backward way of thinking to someone who has had no choice but to think more liberally in order to become the person I am. I can see his underlying point, and he might be right, but it feels like I'm a scandalous little secret all the same.
I continue my vehement defense, "Whatever. Just for the record Chris is no longer my boyfriend, but we are still friends. Is Justin really such a jerk as to show you his brother and me together in bed? In the immortal words of Eric Cartman, `Screw you guys, I'm going home'! I'll see you after I get back from New Orleans with Tim. Oh and Kevin, you are the biggest, hugest asshole of a so-called friend on the entire face of the planet."
These things take a physical toll though. My back hurts; the muscles have tightened up something fierce and I feel like they are ripping free of my spine. I have to get going too because in less than eight hours we're loading into my mom's new (used) van and heading to New Orleans.
It started to rain a while ago; so gentle that we hadn't even noticed sitting under the tree at first. As the drizzle turns into a steady rain I say my goodbyes to Kevin and Neil and walk the block back to my house. I reflect on the park and the few childhood memories I have of my dad and I playing there. Man how the park looked weathered and battered even back then. More than ten years later the only addition to the park is the rust that gets painted over once every three years, if we're lucky. I know Ma and Larry have plans for our house, I just don't know why we don't move over to Larry's house if they're that serious and take a loss on the lost-cause that my house and neighborhood is.
Neil gets up and follows me, talking to my back, "Farrows, I'll deal with Kevin. We'll still be there for you, but you can't expect us to fight all your fights for you, and you know there'll be fights. We won't always be around when you need us. People can bash you with a bat easier when you're alone you know."
I stop walking, "Good to know. It never occurred to me."
He's so high on his own wisdom he just has to keep needling me, "It's your choice, but man, round here? I'd keep it quiet is all I'm suggesting. I'm not even asking you. I'm just pointing out the obvious. Have a boyfriend, tell us. Just don't advertise you're gay."
Getting beat up constantly, sodomized, taunted, or even killed for who I am and for it flying in the face of what other people believe is something I've always feared. It's something that we all fear. It's something that I for sure have put a lifetime of thought and worry into. Fuck, I never meant to slip up enough to ever be having this conversation with my closest friends, let alone with anyone. I never meant to act on any of my feelings until I could make my own way in the world and live somewhere where I don't get vilified daily for who I am.
But I've slipped along the way. Damn! Hormones and affections of the heart sure have screwed me over good. I knew things were headed this way. The more I tried to prevent it and the more I tried to deny my true self the worse this situation got for me until it spiraled out of control. Now it would seem that I am just coming out to everyfuckingbody. Well not everybody, but to enough people. Dangerously more than I ever expected to.
Why did I slip up and tell Kevin in the first place? Neil read that one right, straight away. I guess because I thought it would make me feel good at least? And then Brent Liddle? I thought it would remove the shame I feel over the whole Sam situation in New York. Because I felt so alone that I reveled in Brent's attraction to me and used him because I knew I could. It just sorta happened. He's attracted to me and, I covet his third leg. One thing led to another and well you know the rest.
After slipping in the back door and grabbing a half finished bottle of Coke I quietly sneak up the stairs, avoiding looking into the dining room that is now Ma and Larry's bedroom. Within minutes of when I get home Kevin calls my cell phone. I ignore his calls. All 5 of them. Half an hour later when the phone rings I have a mind to tell him off again when I realize the number in the display is Brent. I tell him it was all a big mistake and to forget about last night.
"I didn't hear any complaints last night," Brent teases.
"Nor did you hear any commitment. No strings attached, right? Oh, and by the way, you brother made us an exhibit for all that stopped by to see this morning. I think he called Neil over just to show him," I counter.
He lets out a long breath, an attempt at a dramatic sigh I think, "Sorry about Justin and Neil. I should have told you Justin knows about me, but I can't believe he showed Neil us in bed. Fine. I know. My loss. I almost could commit you know; cute as you are, you're almost worth it for me."
This is stupid. Why am I bothering to rise to the bait and even answer? I snap back, "But you can't commit. You'll chase other guys. You'll chase girls. You're Bi and horny. That's where we differ. Yeah, I'm gay and horny and could go along with it based on that alone. But I want more that physical pleasure; I want emotional satisfaction too. If I have to live in a closet, I at least need that to keep me going."
Brent japes, "And apparently a life sized replica of Paul Hunter wouldn't hurt either, huh? Don't worry, just talked with Neil. That's why I'm calling now. I may not commit but like I told you, I can keep my mouth shut."
I laugh nervously. I recall from a deodorant commercial I think that the best defense is a strong offense, "Well then, no, as a matter of fact a life-sized replica of Paul wouldn't hurt. The hope of occasionally seeing him is the reason I bother to play baseball with you guys. Nice of Neil to let that cat out of the bag."
Brent points out, "Dude, you've got it bad for him."
"Yeah, and for now people know that you and I fuck-buddies. Once he finds that out, and that I love him he'll kill me," I complain.
He suggests, "If we're fuck buddies how about I come over tonight then?"
"Nah, I don't think so. I'm leaving early in the morning for a trip. Like 5 am or something. Sorry. Maybe we can get together when I'm back," I counter.
He pleads, "How about I sneak out right afterwards?"
I give in. Ma and Larry are already asleep. If I am quiet they may never know. So I relent. Brent says to watch for him our front in fifteen to twenty minutes.
I take the opportunity to start packing for New Orleans. While I'm packing Neil calls. I am so glad Chris put some ring tone on my phone that people over 30 or something supposedly can't hear. The high-pitched tone is annoying, but my phone would be keeping Ma and Larry up for sure otherwise.
Neil just wants me to know that he's glad I came out finally and again tells me he'll keep Kevin in line. Justin Liddle will too for Brent's sake. He then starts into me about Paul.
I try to fend him off, "Do you want to hear all the things I'd do if Paul walked up to me and professed his love, Neil? I'm sure you can picture some things, but I'll tell you a whole whack of other sexual acts you probably don't want to hear if you throw Paul in my face."
"Whatever Farrows. He's your infatuation, not mine. Ask him out. I know him, even if he's not into you he'd say yes because he's just that kind of guy. You two could have a sudo-date or something! I'm sure you jerk off to him nightly!"
I fire back, "Thanks for the news flash there, Captain Obvious. Felching. How about I explain that to you Neil. You know, it's not necessarily exclusively a gay thing..."
He relents, "Stop! O.K. Stop. I'll stop Farrows. Then why don't you invite your ex out some time? Maybe we can hang out. Does he play ball?"
"Nah. He was a swimmer. I mean, he plays baseball, but not in a league or anything. But the other guys would figure him out straightaway if he played with us all. And besides, if Brent and I become fuck-friends that would just be weird," I reason.
He laughs, "No worse than Hunter finding out. Still, we'd like to meet him you know if you really are still friends."
Yeah. I might. That'll be a few worlds colliding. And I still haven't told Tim, "Not until after I tell Tim."
He dares to ask the million dollar question, "When are you going to tell him?"
My heart involuntarily starts to race. I don't know why it's such a big deal to me now that I know he knows, "I don't know. It's hard, you know. But I guess I have to tell him some time if he's going to be living with me."
Neil chimes in, "What is this world coming to? You're gay, Hunter's gay, Brent Liddle's half gay," He makes a sound that tells me he's pretending to shudder. Well, it's late and you gotta get going probably. Have fun on your trip to the Big Easy. Wish I was invited...Just kidding, don't get all bent outta shape! So, you gonna tell him, or do I have to?"
"No. Please don't. I'll tell him Neil. I want him to hear it from me. When I build up the nerve," I promise.
I venture into Tim's room for a minute and sit on his bed, looking around at all his stuff. Man, I hope he's happy living here for the next year. Now that it's almost happening I feel all queasy and worry that he's not going to be comfortable living in my house, with me the queer, as his host. I know Ma doesn't want to have to handle any situations, so it'll be up to Larry, as sort of an impartial third party in the house to parent him. That's if Larry actually has moved in full time. Come September he might go back to his routine of sleeping at his own place week nights.
After getting up and switching off the light I close the door behind me and sneak back into my new room. I'm still not used to it. The window and the shadows it creates bother me so I pull down the heavy blind and block out the rainy night. Bandit loves my new bed and I have to wrestle him all the time in order to make room for myself. If I want to have any decent portion of my new and bigger bed I have to trick him out of my room and shut the door.
And some fierce guard dog he is! He doesn't even bark when I sneak into the house or anything. He just stays sprawled on my bed which he thinks is his. I'd swear he were deaf, but he sure can detect the fridge door opening from anywhere in the house or yard. I close my door, strip naked, chug back some soda and yank as much of my bed sheet as I can away from Bandit and almost crash when I realize Brent must be outside.
I slip back into my shorts and creep downstairs to let Brent in, thankful that the stairs at least don't creak. I bring Brent up to my room but can't get Bandit to leave. Shrugging his shoulders at me Brent hands me the ball gag he must have realized I got off on last night, and I put it on. He gets me to kneel on the edge of my bed and then out of nowhere comes out with leather handcuffs. He handcuffs my wrists to my ankles as I am staring at my dog.
Less than twenty minutes later Brent has released me from my restraints and seen himself out the door. I stash his handcuffs and gag in the back pack he left behind and toss that under yesterday's clothes in my hamper before I jerk off in bed. I can't sleep right away so I get up and write in my computer journal a while before I finally go to bed and fall asleep.
I wake in darkness. A hand is shaking me somewhat roughly. Thinking it's Brent I ask, "Round two?"
Then Larry speaks, "No, time to get up and get going. I tried knocking first. You're lucky; your Ma was going to wake you. I recalled you're one of those minimalists, so I saved you both the embarrassment. You might want to try undershorts when Tim's here."
Bandit's gone and my sheet is lumped on the floor. In the hallway light I am mostly covered in Larry's shadow, but he can clearly see that I am nude. As he turns and leaves I bashfully thank him, "Uh. Yeah, thanks for the save."
I take a shower and get dressed. My body feels off, like way off. I've felt sore inside since right after sex with Brent, once the hormones stopped raging and the euphoria dissipated. I thought that it would settle. Then all day yesterday I felt almost sick to my stomach over having fucked around with Brent. That kinda masked the real physical discomfort. Then I got all tense on top of that when Neil pushed the issue. And again I started to worry about Tim and tensed up even worse.
I wonder if I have an ulcer? But that wouldn't explain my knotted back and bruised inner organs. Hmmm. Note to self: maybe I should temper the bigger the better' with the church's stance of no sodomy at all. Or at least avoid back to back nights riding that particular fuck-stick. Somewhere in-between maybe I'll come out with just right'. My head is pounding and I feel hung over or fucked up on top of everything. I didn't smoke, toke or drink at all last night.
Finally descending the stairs with my back-pack and gym bag I get a glare from my mother. Oh damn, it's going to be one of those days. One of her over the top droning days of warning me to behave, to be a good gentleman, be polite, and all that good crap. Dropping my bag in the kitchen I roll my eyes at her and head back upstairs to make my bed.
More importantly at the moment, I grab the Coke bottle and pop a few store brand Ibuprophen pills before chasing it all down with a Rolaids soft-chew. I feel like grabbing my discman and headphones to drown her out on the long ride ahead but she'd never allow that. The way she nags me sometimes about social protocol I swear she forgets that she raised me and wouldn't accept anything but best behavior.
Heading back down the stairs I read her body language again and regret the bottle of Coke. I try to sandbag against her coming attack, "Yeah, Ma. I know. I'm drinking straight from the bottle. It was almost empty and I know not dirtying a glass doesn't work as an excuse. I know. But if you want to yell at me, I really don't feel so good this morning, so can you please yell at me later when my body doesn't feel like I got run over by a train?"
"You're drinking soda for breakfast and you were late last night. Coke for breakfast is real healthy! To many late nights Jonny and you're bound to feel that way too. I'll spare you because you're not feeling well."
It's not an act, I am feeling like crap and my downcast gaze is genuine. So I don't look at her when I thank her.
Apparently I'm not spared after all. As abbreviated as it may be, she plows on, "Right. That said, don't you think you're going to continue this way once school starts up again. The late nights will be restricted for weekends only and you will mind me and use a glass. That bottle is so dirty and you put your mouth on it. Just like a soda can. I'm sure you drink out of cans whenever I'm not around."
"Germaphobe," I mutter under my breath, not wanting to argue.
"Teenager," she mutters back.
After I feed Bandit and let him outside we're ready to hit the road before the sun rises. Mrs. Petriczko will be taking care of him for the day, and Deanna will be staying the week starting Tuesday. I'm sure he'd love to come. New beds to conquer and claim, new food to try, new shoes to chew. Ah, if life were that simple I ponder as we head to the freeway that will take us to the interstate. Barring construction, it's 5 and a half hour haul along the I-10. Fuck, I hope there's no construction. I fall asleep in the back seat and don't wake until Baton Rouge.
We're stopped at a Denny's for breakfast and a chance to freshen up when Ma wakes me. Way I figure it, Ma doesn't want to get there before noon, and with it currently being only 10:00 breakfast is a perfect stall tactic. That'll put us on pace to drive the last hour and a half and get there shortly after noon, as Ma promised. Larry gets a chuckle when I inform him of this plot by Ma as she uses the washroom. He figures that's something that she's relaxing on slowly, but it's hard for her to not to try and command every situation as she's had to for so long.
The remaining stretch of highway presents me with a lecture from Ma about why I should explain my `situation' to Tim incase he's not accepting. When I give her the details of how he already knows and it's not going to be a surprise to him that I'm gay she gives me a longer lecture about why I should have already told him.
By the time the city skyline, as low lying as it is, emerges I am actually more excited about seeing Tim than I am worried. That, and anything to escape my mom's lecture. Poor Larry must be rethinking getting involved with her and we're only hours into the vacation.
).:.(<<
Dear Journal:
When Chris was gone to see the Olympics in Australia I was left here to start dealing with my situation and try to make sense of my life. Duncan in Vancouver. Sam in New York. Tim in New Orleans. Kevin, Neil, Tania and Nat here. My sister Deanna. My new position at the music store. My new job that I start in September at Rhonda's new restaurant. Being a gay teen in Texas. School in Vancouver. Ma and Larry. Daniel. Chris. Paul Hunter. And now Brent. Over the past few weeks I have had to do a lot of soul searching and growing up. Over the past few days I have come to realize that I have a ton of balls in the air that I am constantly juggling.
First, there's Duncan in Vancouver. I've told him every detail, and I mean every detail. He loves it and jokes with me that some days he could read the transcript of our recent chats to jack-off to after we've talked. He's put Sam into perspective for me, calling it a slut phase. I've come to the same conclusion about this too, but Duncan tried to give merit to a common popular theory, almost an urban legend, about gay men going through a slut phase. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's just him saying it to make me feel better about having succumbed to random sex. I don't know for sure.
Aside from that he has also given me solid ideas on how to deal with breaking up with Chris and urges me that I will kick myself to lose the friendship I have built with Chris. He's offered his insight on how to deal with Tim, but I am not going to take his advice. I can't in a million years be as direct as Duncan is, so his solution doesn't fit me. And finally, now that he's back from Scotland he's gone and picked up all kinds of information from the admissions offices at Simon Frasier University and at the University of British Columbia for me. What a sweetheart. Gotta love the guy for that.
Still, this is the same guy that sent me his used baseball uniform. Complete, from head to toe save for hat and glove. Do I get off on striping nude and getting into his jock, sliding shorts, pants, sleeveless shirt and cleats? Hell ya. Do I get off playing baseball in his gear, while the guys around me are unaware? Hell ya! Gotta love the freak even more for donating his stuff to me.
Second, Sam in New York. I've used his boxer's to masturbate with. They don't smell of him anymore that I can detect even though he had worn them, but they weren't dirty, so I didn't wash them. At some point I guess I will wash them and start wearing them. The idea, although disgusting to the masses I am sure, sort of makes me feel kinky in a good way, much like wearing Duncan's baseball uniform.
I've written him an email and we've chatted on MSN briefly. Sam that is. He hasn't slept with anyone else. I don't delude myself to think that he is saving himself for me again, I'm not stupid. It took a huge buildup of confidence to do what he did with Chris and I and he can't seem to muster it up again. He's chatting on Gay.com with a guy his age that doesn't want to meet for sex, or do cybersex with him, but he says they flirt like crazy and they mostly only talk about sex. Both are coming to grips with themselves and are afraid of sex.
The guy lives New Jersey, about 20 minutes away from him. They've met and gone skateboarding around Central Park. They didn't make any physical contact at all the first time and only shook hands the second time. They are going to try a kiss sometime soon they have decided. I've related my slow progress and how nice it was to take it slow when Daniel and I started off. Sam has shared that he was not really ready for sex after all and wants a boyfriend that he can just hang with and get comfortable with.
The day we instant messaged, he called me after evening long distance hours kicked in and we talked for about half an hour. He sounds so much more confident and relaxed over the phone. He related how thankful he is that Chris and I were not freaks intent on raping and killing him, although he still can't believe that he hooked up offline with strangers. He doesn't plan to do that again, hopefully ever. He got the urge out of his system and is happy to have his first gay experience under his belt.
It got hard to listen to when he went on about how intimate and loving Chris and I were with each other. I in turn told him how cute he is and that reflecting back, the time with him was something that will forever be special to me because he gave me his virginity. He's touched at my words, and just hopes that they are the truth. Know what Journal? They are the truth. I think I'll always remember him after all, he gave me something monumental in his life. Plus it was rather steamy sex too. Oh, and neither of us have mentioned his boxer's.
Third, and probably most important at the moment, there's Tim in New Orleans. As you know Journal, Tim is the greatest friend a guy could ask for in the whole world because he totally accepts me. If I could just find it in me to share my secret with him. Remember I'm the reason he had to move out of the apartment? If you recall, our wrestling match raised some unwanted attention. The dickheads across the hall had complained to the property management that it was sublet to a minor so Tim got the boot.
That was almost 7 weeks ago. This week is the first time I'll see Tim since that weekend. Shit, I don't even know how I am going to talk to him about it yet, especially how I am going to tell him that I've basically told everybody now but him. And then, what do I tell him?
The obvious of course. `Don't hate me please, I am gay but don't worry, I'm not going to come onto you. Nor have I, just to clarify that. Being that I've slept in your bed and all, I just want you to know that I have never, NOT EVER, laid hand or eyes on ANY part of your body. Kay, I have seen you naked and you have the body of a god, a defined six-pack if we're counting, and you clothes hang off your nice butt and define your bulge up front so perfectly in my eyes, but never in a million years would I violate you.'
And as he pukes his guts out that he's shared a bed with me and pantsed me hundreds of times or more, I'll die inside. Yeah, I know I have to tell him all that and more. No, I don't however know how much more to tell him. Daniel and Chris are givens too, but do I tell him about Sam and Brent? When do I tell him? Where? Fuck, I dread the conversation because I value what Tim thinks of me more than anyone else in my whole life. For some fucked up reason and I can't stand to face the disappointment in his eyes as I finally acknowledge things to him.
In fact, now more than anything I fear it because I know that the disappointment will not be in my sexuality but rather in my inability to let him in on it any of the hundreds of opportunities I've had. More than the disappointment I fear, I fear the love that he'll probably convey. I fear that because I don't deserve it after keeping my secret so long.
I've got this idea in my mind, a fantasy. I tell Tim I'm a faggot and he's cool with it. He corrects me and tells me that I'm not a faggot, I'm gay. Like it's totally fine by him and totally acceptable and he's more mad at the derogatory term I use to label myself with than anything.
Hahaha, I really must be gay to come up with something as gay as that!
So anyway, yes, my stomach is twisted in knots over seeing Tim and having to deal with him. But you know something else too, Journal? This is going to rip me clean in two if I have to continue through the one on one conversations of coming out to people. As they say, the night is always darkest right before dawn. Well Journal, this is my darkest night yet. I thought it got easier, each subsequent time. Now I now don't know that that's true. But even that's not what has me so worked up at the moment.
That would be where Brent comes in Journal. It's that I feel so disgusted with myself over my sexual behavior lately. I am a slut. Chris and I fucked around with a stranger in New York. Now to give Sam credit, he was cute, a virgin, and safe despite how unsafe the whole idea of hooks up are. I've started to resolve the ball of jumbled feelings I have from Chris and I screwing around with Sam.
Yet to try to diminish my feelings of shame over our actions in New York I bent over on my own bed, bound and gagged, and let Brent breed me. Yeah, now I have to deal with Brent on a near daily basis at school, knowing that I let him enter my body just because I felt shitty and wanted to distract my self loathing by experiencing his dick, a couple times. And it gets worse, way, way worse.
In fact it feels like my stomach has been twisted since the morning after, as I walked home from having sex with him. At first I thought that it was a real bad case of remorse going on. Then I figured that it was actually physical too. I'm pretty convinced that he bruised something inside me, as the pain is subsiding a little.
I've felt queasy for a few days now, since Kevin dropped the bomb on my life by telling me that my friends know in no uncertain terms that I'm gay. Now it's just when I think about what I've done that my stomach knots up so much that it hurts. Crap, later yesterday morning, when Kevin and Neil dropped by and made me play baseball before work, both the physical and psychological feelings were tearing me apart. This was only hours out of Brent's bed, and half a day before we had round 2. I honestly would have liked to just sleep the afternoon away and get up only to go to work.
At the time Neil just passed it off, knowing it was me being my usual brooding self. Brent however knew better. I was less interested than usual in baseball yesterday despite the male sexuality that was on display. Of course it also might have had something with the fact that Kevin had tried outing me to the same group of guys at the same diamond the day before. In the heat of the afternoon I was able to give the valid excuse that I had to get going for work. Thankfully at the time I was blissfully unaware that Justin and Neil peeked in on me naked in Brent's bed. Then last night things got totally fucked.
Neil confronted me about it just hours ago now and all I could do at first was deny, deny, deny. Even though I totally denied that I `fancy a little buggery in my arse' as Duncan jokingly puts it, Neil didn't believe me. Despite his promise I am sure that by now Tania has confirmation through Neil, even if they are currently splittsville. Vicariously through Tania I'm sure Nat and Stacey know too. How much farther will it spread? To Nat's brother, Jackie, who along with her can place me at the mall a while back with Chris? If Jackie or Stacey find out, well I'm sure there'll be no stopping the spread to Paul Hunter and his other good friend Wayne Harris immediately, and the whole school inside of a day I'm sure.
And what about Train? What does he really know? He's not a part of our group most times now, not since Daniel left anyways. He and Michael and Daniel were all pretty tight back when Michael was my best friend and Daniel was my boyfriend. Times change. Since Train backed out of the apartment with Tim we haven't heard one word from him. So there is major worry going on right now that the as I leave Houston for a week to visit Tim that I am leaving a pot on the stove at a simmer and it stands a good chance of boiling over. The only answer I can come up with is to transfer to Chris's school. It's a good half an hour away by public transit at least, but if I go there with Chris I might avoid getting bashed. We'll see.
Next topic up Journal is my sister Deanna. Yeah I have done a lot of reflecting as I mentioned to you earlier. Deanna will be staying at home this week again for me to cover the store. She and Scott are setting their roots down in Austin, where he's from. They have a house there now and are finally talking marriage. Dee's absence the past year and a bit has been a big part of my inner rage. She was my best source of direction and clarity in my life until I started getting serious with Daniel. Then I cast her aside and when I needed her to be where she used to always be for me I was shit-outta-luck.
I wish I had the innocent times back from a few years ago where it was her and I against the world. For an older sister she's always been very cool. She has her differences with Candace, and more so Lacey, but she and I always get along. Don't get me wrong, Ma has been very instrumental in helping me form my identity as the male of the house and has always given me the room I need, but it was Dee that has molded me more than I would have admitted in the past. So she's doing me a huge favor this summer, letting me get away with screwing off from work for two weeks. She's uprooting herself again this week to house sit Bandit for me and to watch over the store. And that's on top of totally supporting my sexuality the way she has. I want to get something cool for her from New Orleans as a token of my gratitude.
Of course Journal, I may have you somewhat in the dark about my new position at the music store. I am technically the store manager, albeit intern. But as Dee is calling our store her home store it goes without an actual manager of record, and instead gets two assistant managers. I do put in 35 hours a week there right now and am still going to have to manage about 25 through the school year. My job now even includes hiring. We have a very solid staff mind you and the turnover has always been low. This is in part because since Dee took over the store it has been making bonus and her philosophy has always been to flip that bonus directly over to the staff.
Her best friend Angie is the other assistant manager on paper. Angie is currently due to return from maternity leave right now, but when she returns I will be training her, and then my replacement in a year's time when I leave for school. Dee knows it's a forgone conclusion that I want to go away to school, and has made a good choice in Angie. I have no idea what Dee will do for a second assistant, but that will be her deal to sort out.
In the mean time I am probably going to be hiring Nat and her brother Jackie to replace myself as an hourly employee and Jessica, the one girl that is leaving because of school this year. I was nervous interviewing them both for positions, but was able to get a good rapport going with them from my perspective as a possible boss. I have Dee set up to do second interviews this week with them. All this in the midst of Kevin outing me, and them probably knowing.
I don't know what Tim will be doing for money this year. If he needs a job I'll bring him on too, especially for the extra hours there'll be to go around before Christmas. That's if he even wants to work for me. I hope it all works out, I know it's like nepotism, but the staff there has always been a close knit group and it seems to work so I am going to try and keep the same mould.
By the way Journal, did you know that that weird song, One Night In Bankok was written and partially performed by the two guys from ABBA? Just a tidbit of useless info I discovered as I searched online for the song about New Orleans; The House of The Rising Sun, by the Animals.
Next up Journal is my new job that I start in September at Rhonda's new restaurant. I have talked with her more about it. Rhonda knows my school schedule and my work schedule at the music store. She also knows that it's a bit of a haul to get to her new restaurant for me so we have worked out a set schedule. I am going to be working at the restaurant Wednesday nights as a busser / porter, and Saturdays as opening host / seater. This will get me 11-12 hours a week there.
Put that with an open-close 10 hour shift Sundays at the Music store and 5-10 closes Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays and I won't have much time off. Tuesday and Saturday nights to be exact. I'm not looking forward to it, but I do want the experience from the restaurant because it will be an easier job to obtain when I go away to school. I just am not yet sure how I will incorporate school and any kind of social life into the mix. And people wonder why Candace, Lacey and I always dragged our asses to school and cut classes. It's because to help keep a roof over our heads we had to.
The thing about working at the new restaurant Rhonda warned me of is that there are a few guys that eyed me as I came in to meet with her. She just plainly put it out there that it's best to avoid getting involved with guys from work because it creates a tense work atmosphere. To my complete shock she just put it out there like it was nothing!
When I found my voice to ask her about it she told me that there is a very high ratio of young gays in the industry in proportion to other industries. She also let on that she knows Tripp, her replacement at the old restaurant was an open bigot and that is why she agreed to the transfer for me. We're both looking forward to some fun times together again and she is counting on me to uphold my standards and work ethic she's seen from me in the past. Great, no pressure there!
Let me tell you though Journal, at least for the coming year that will make it easier being a gay teen in Texas! I won't have any fucking time to be gay! I won't have time for a boyfriend. Hell I won't have time for friends a lot of the time in the final and most crucial year of school if I am going to get a shot at a good post-secondary school. So at least I will be dodging a bullet by not flaunting a boyfriend around as Neil suggested.
I'll also have to be selective about what underwear I wear around. As Chris says, thongs and fashion jock straps are made to be worn, but also like he says, they are probably mostly intended for the gay community who are more likely to wear them. Wearing any of the sexy underwear Chris gave me to school and having to change in front of a group of guys would be a huge mistake, so I'll have to put away most of the collection Chris splurged on for me in New York.
I seriously don't think Tim would be comfortable with my fetish underwear collection either. I might wear one or two in New Orleans for comfort as it's hot and humid as hell there and I don't expect Tim to see them on me anyway. When school starts I'll put them away in the back of my closet.
Also thinking ahead, when we get back I'm going to have to invite Chris to meet my friends in hopes that I can spend some of my free time with them all together. On top of everything, incorporating Chris will effectively leave me no time to have a boyfriend. I can't believe I am saying this, but after the roller coaster rides I've been on with Daniel and now Chris that will be a nice change of pace.
I don't know how some guys get away with it. Society sure is changing when Chris can walk around and be himself. I'll admit at first glance he is not obvious, but after talking with him one might question if he is gay or not. I really would like to talk with his friends Greg and Gerry who apparently have everyone fooled and have been together for a few years now. So if they can pull that off, I can get through a year of keeping my nose clean and not bringing any more undue attention upon myself, I really can. Even though my friends are finding out the truth, Project: Be Straight will commence again soon.
School in Vancouver, Journal; what do you think of that? I'll have to start writing in Canadian to you soon if everything comes to pass the way I want it to! What started out as a borrowed idea has consumed me and I really, really want to try to get there for college, or university as they call it. I just want to get somewhere that who I am matters more than what I am, and neither become an impediment. I know that it can't be all rosy like I've been reading. I know that society there is more openly tolerant of alternative lifestyles, but that doesn't necessarily make it's people all that much more accepting.
Still, it's one of the more liberal places in the world for a guy like me to take a chance at making something of myself. I've fallen in love with the pictures Duncan and Evan e-mail me and all the travel and tourism I have surfed on the net to find out about. I am more and more pinning my hopes on it being a good life experience and a chance to kick-start my life. I just wish I could take all the better aspects of my current life there with me!
Ah, but the adventure of a new culture and country beckons; coloured money, Canadian Bacon, Canadian Wiskey, Maple Syrup and Beavers! (The animal EH, not the part of the female anatomy just to clarify Journal-like Yuck!) I'm not dumb enough to believe that they all drive dog sleds and it's frozen all the time, especially when Seattle practically runs into Vancouver.
I am going to practice their different sayings, brush up on their political history and watch a whole lot more hockey, not that we get much on T.V. here. I know how to skate on rollerblades and Phil and I used to play road hockey when he lived next door, but I would like a little more knowledge of their passionate pastime. Duncan also suggests that if I ever make it to Vancouver I have to discover ketchup flavoured potato chips and Timbits, whatever those are.
Thankfully I have a lot of help on this end too. Chris's dad is looking into some of the logistics of making the dream a reality for me, with his money and resources it makes it a lot easier. Larry has also offered to help however he can, using his knowledge of the school system and a friend at one of the major colleges here.
Ma and Larry are serious as you might have surmised by now, Journal. To me it's like Sheriff Valenti trying to hook up with Maria's mother on the T.V. show Roswell. It started as a meeting out of concern for me and became a romantic involvement somehow. If I hadn't been so proficient at skipping classes they would never have hooked up! I think my wedding gift to them will be a request for Larry to doctor my attendance records.
This you see Journal is a gift to them, because lets face it, I am probably never getting to post secondary unless I get a little help on the records. Based on my marks, yes, but the skipping off thing has probably screwed me over. So I might need some help from Larry there. If I say it's a wedding gift that'll keep on giving by clearing me out of the house it might sound appealing. Ergo, my leaving the nest empty for the new lovebirds is my gift!
I think in fact that I will use Ma's steady relationship as a weapon against her if she tries to stand in my way of chasing my dream of schooling away from home. Not rudely, or with malicious intent, but more in a matter of fact manner, as in I have to get out and away from them and start discovering myself.
Hmmm, I wonder if they are planning a date for a wedding yet? Too bad my relationship with Chris didn't last as long. Unlike mine that raced along at top speed before fizzling out, theirs has slowly and steadily built momentum. I'm sure I just discovered a life lesson there, like the kids do in most episodes of South Park, but I chose to ignore it at the moment. My relationship with Chris was a fun ride and lasted as long as it could have. I'm young, I live in the moment still thank you very much!
This is my last word on Daniel for a while Journal. I've wasted enough time, tears, thoughts and words on him for a lifetime. He is an asshole after all because he could have called. He could send an email. While I am not without resources, tracking him at my level is a very daunting task. There are well over 50 Rice households listed for St. Louis on the U.S. Post website, and neither James Rice nor Jim Rice are his uncle. So his number is unlisted and I've hit a dead end. The next move is Daniel's. I am done worrying about him, and crying for him. He's treated me as good as if I were dead, so now I return the favour. I guess it all was a lie and our time together never meant a damn thing to him after all. This is my official farewell to you Daniel; my Timon. Have a good life, think of me often, but don't you dare ever try to be a part of my life again.
Neither last nor least, Journal, yes, you guessed it, Chris. You have been privy to my most inner thoughts about him, you know. I love him. I always will. We're friends now I guess. We'll see how that ends. Hopefully not, actually, as I want it to hold true. I'll miss the personal affirmation I got out of having sex with him, but I'll at least get to share the warmth of the heart with him still. When the day comes that he has a new boyfriend I know my heart will die all over again. But I'll live and life will go on. Same thing, only reversed if I am first to get a new boyfriend.
And Finally Journal, what would be an entry without thoughts on Paul? I'm sure I've fucked up any chance with him by getting involved with Brent. That was plain stupid. Still, maybe we're just not meant for each other. Really, we've had chances to connect and they've passed. That is if he even is gay. No, clearly there is not meant to be anything between he and I, and I am getting ready to turn this page too and move on. He has a daughter and a life. He became an infatuation so that I could keep the wound Daniel caused me fresh.
Well, like Tesla's song Paradise states, `time goes by and life goes on'. Indeed that is true. You'll never know Paul how much I've loved you from afar. You'll never know how our few brief encounters helped me get through the day or keep hope alive in my life. You've served your purpose, and you did it so admirably and without ever a complaint!
Mr. Hunter, may you have a great life and all the best that it has to offer. On every street corner, in every hallway, in every crowd I will look for you, but I shall set you free now. In a roundabout way I've finally retrieved my heart back from Daniel. I'm not about to set it loose in the world with you Paul, not now. Now I'll keep my heart guarded and locked deeper within myself. Instead I'll keep you with my heart, locked within it in some warm recess. Oh, what I wish only could have been.
I'll leave you here Journal, as it's nearing 4 am and I have to at least try to catch some sleep before we head to New Orleans in literally a few hours. Time to worry about what happens next!
P.S. Journal: Just so you know; like so many other entries, I am sharing this right now with Duncan via an email attachment. Don't be jealous that I'm two-timing you, it's just that I sometimes need the insight of someone who lives and breathes the same things I deal with. Hopefully he gets a good laugh at it, especially my entry about him! (ahem...premonition about him helping me through things as of course Mr. McKerracher's perspective would be appreciated...Hint, hint, Duncan!) Oh, and I promise my entries will be shorter from here on out!
[to be continued]