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In the Shadows of Our Lives Part 2 - Wings of Tomorrow X ~ Merry X-mas – yo! ~
"The sun is down, the day is done, The sky is dark and I'm on the run, Yesterday is so far away. The wind is strong, there's something wrong, But I just have to carry on, For tomorrow is a brand new day."
Memories, by Europe
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PAUL
Lounging in each other's arms in the early morning afterglow following waking in my boyfriend's bed, and having a quickie with said boyfriend the day after Christmas, he nuzzles me and then reveals, "Kay, so you asked me the other night about that poster, and then you got all worried about my book of sketches and quotes. Don't worry, Tim didn't tell on you. I heard you guys talk for a bit that morning after you came up to get my journal; my vent is right above the one in the living room and I've learned conversation travels right up it. You can't see much, but you can stare straight down at the couch from it if you really try."
I cut him off, "Ah shoot, I didn't mean...well, I got a little worried...don't be mad?"
He continues to assure me, "I'm not mad. You deserve to know, so here it is. I get upset sometimes, I get sad sometimes. I withdraw into myself and mostly the quotes and the drawings are the only manifestation of that now. It's gotten a lot better since I can talk to Tim and my family about my feelings. Getting upset over Daniel, I tried to shield you from that, and Tim seems upset lately so I didn't want to burden him. I don't smoke pot anymore, and you've seen what a lightweight I am with alcohol. Still, I fucked up, and for that I'm sorry. But that's the extent of it. I promise."
"Okay."
"You don't sound too convinced. I swear, it's not like I need to be medicated, or ever have been. And I'm like totally against suicide, for me. I'm terrified of death. I don't want to die till I'm old and wrinkled and have no teeth left. Life is dealing with the good and the bad it throws at you. I actually love my life now. And besides, I'm a wimp. Not that I've ever like, thought about suicide, but believe me, it's more pain than I could ever inflict on myself. You have to believe me. You can read the whole journal if you want. Be prepared to blush though. You star in it prominently."
"Alright, I believe you!"
"Good! Now can I ask you something personal?" Jon asks me as we lay in his bed.
"You can ask me anything," I answer.
"You don't have to answer, you may regret letting me ask," Jon starts.
"Go ahead and ask," I prompt him.
"Kay. It's about those baseball guys that transferred. Sort of, but not really. Tim said he thinks they may have been sexually hazed, and that's why they transferred. Then he kinda shut up abruptly, so I asked him if he was hazed when he made the team. He won't answer directly, which with him means yes. I've been trying to work it out and I can come up with a million and one scenarios, but you made the school team the same year as him, so you probably had it done too."
I nod, not really wanting to relive the ordeal.
He's curious, "What did they do to you guys?"
"You really want to know," I say more as a statement than a question, "Ah shoot. Um, well first off, Tim actually made the team a year before me, so it was a little different for him and me."
"But you know what they did to him? Was it bad?"
I sigh, "Alright. Yeah. You're probably heard the new guys on the baseball team referred to as `rat-tails' every year haven't you?"
Jon nods.
"Do you not what a rat-tail is?"
"Like when you snap your towel at a naked guy in the shower or locker room?"
"Yeah those are too, and that's what the coaches, teachers, and everyone else are supposed to think. No, a rat-tail is a tampon."
"They make you wear a tampon? Where?" Jon asks, knowing where, but disbelieving, "Like really?"
"Yeah, really. It's never happened for real at our school in years, as far as I know, but the threat is enough to get rookies to participate in whatever the seniors cook up. Word from a couple of my cousins is that forcible rat-tailing was the initiation over at the other school though."
"Oh shit. So what did they make you do when you made the team? Wait! You started off by saying Tim made the team a year before you and then told me about rat-tails. Did they rat-tail Tim?"
"We all had to stand on a bench and choke the chicken together and the last one to come got held down by the other rookies and circle jerked on by the seniors with his mouth held open courtesy of something from Brent Liddle. Anyone that fell off the bench had to stop jerking long enough to spread Rub A5-35 all between his legs, from the top of his crack to his butthole, straight across his taint, all around his balls, and right back up to the tip of his penis. He can do it himself, or if he refuses, someone will do it for him. The stuff burns. Then he had to get back up on the bench and back to jerking it."
"Did anyone fall off? Did you fall off? Was there a cum dump? Who was it?"
"Five guys shaking the shit out of one bench? We all fell off. More than once."
"So did you put the stuff on yourself of did some other guy get to touch you there before me after all?"
"Heavens no! After we saw Wayne fall off and refuse, they used half the bottle on him it looked like. Wayne couldn't get back into it so he was the one held down and marked by the seniors. I got away with maybe a tenth the cream they put on him, wasn't first to shoot, but wasn't last. Still, it burned like a mother."
"Wow, I'm glad I never went out for any team. I can't believe you guys! That is gayer than anything gay guys do! That is so beyond gay! All because you like to swing a stick at a ball and adjust your cup in front of the girls in the crowd?"
"No, some of us like to adjust for the benefit of the boys in the crowd!"
"Damn right!"
"Maybe catch an eye linger and hopefully snag a boyfriend. Seems to have worked out just right for me."
"Kay, you've got me there! So, that's what happened to you. You're still not telling me what they did to Tim."
"If he hasn't told you, I don't think I should, but... He made the team straight away in grade nine. As a starter too, there were so many players that graduated from the year before. There were as many rookies as returning players, but he, Brent and Mickey were all rookie starters that year, even though Brent was a year ahead of us. That's the same year my brother Peter made the team and quit because he wouldn't go along with the hazing."
"Why not, I thought baseball was your family's thing as much as music."
"Yeah, but it was too homosexual and against our family's beliefs for Peter. I'm serious when I tell you my entire family is strict to the church and feel gays should be stoned to death."
"Yeah, so what gay act did Tim have to do?"
"I only know this because Brent Liddle actually bragged about it. Again, something perverted he gets off on...The rookies all had to jerk the seniors off at the first team party. If they wouldn't do it, they would be held down by the other rookies as the returning players circle jerked on them. So Tim had to jerk at least one other guy off. As for Brent, rumour has it, it didn't take very much convincing from one of the seniors to let him use his mouth instead of his hand. Afterwards, he told the guys he was up for laying down for the entire team to circle jerk on him anyways. That's how word got out that he's bisexual."
"That sounds like Brent," Jon says, catching himself and sounding apologetic near the end, "So, instead of making yourself sterile with a muscle relaxant cream, or jerking off older guys, I have a better offer for you to make this team."
"What team?"
"You know. The home team? As in the gay team?"
"We have a team?"
Jon rolls his eyes, "You know, like when a guy talks about a girl not putting out for him and he says it's because she must play for `the other team'. Or when a guy is accused of liking another guy they say he's hitting for the home team? Like straights versus gays? We're on the gay team."
"I know what you meant silly-billy! But lets make my try-out for the team a solo competition, because there's no way I'm sharing you with any team ever again. I stupidly sat back and let the team have you first. Never again. And no sharing or fooling around. No threesomes, no orgies. You're mine now. For as long as you'll have me."
"Kay, for your try-out then, you have to undress me with your teeth, after I do the same to you. Then you have to put a condom on your nice penis, but there's a rule for that. The thrill of putting it on you belongs to me! Um, make that two rules. The second rule is that you have to use lots of lube. No wait, three rules. The third and final rule will be that you don't get to take it off until you've filled it while it's inside me...I mean really, that's just a suggestion, you know, if you're into trying to hit a home run with me in bed. No pressure. So, you game? Wanna try-out for my team?"
"Yeah! I think I've already gone through the try outs and I hope I made the team. But if you want more time to decide, you can name the place and time."
"Seriously?"
"Of course I want to have sex with you! Isn't that how it works? Find a nice hot guy that you like, and who likes you, and have lots of sex?"
"What about love?"
"No, I don't think the Heart song works. How about U2's `The Sweetest Thing'?"
Jon chokes, "Guh! I can't stand U2! But I wasn't talking about our song so don't get all cute and shy on me just because we're talking about you making love to me. I'm serious. You said like, not love. Find a guy you like. I know it's too soon, but I love you."
"I love you too! That's a given, silly monkey. I'm just saying, I wouldn't want to have sex with you if you didn't turn me on. Sorry, but that's part of it too."
"Kay, you're right again. Well then, as well as loving you, I really like you!"
"And I really like you too, at least once a day lately. But that's mostly by myself so far. What you're making it hard for me to say is that I think that I really, really like you! As in I'm ready."
"I know what you meant, kay? But you're too cute when you blush. It makes me even harder."
"You're just a tad evil, you know that?"
"Hey, I'll take credit for the tent you're pitching right now. But it's not my fault you look so cute. Normally you're just hot, so when you get all cute too, it gives me even more to lust over."
"Evil I say!"
"Yeah, yeah. So, you think those guys that came over from the other school, they had a rat tail done to them for initiation?"
"No. No one knows the details for sure, but the three guys that transferred in, word is they're the only seniors that tried to stop it, so they got to come over and get special exemption to play this year for our school. Whatever happened, the rest of the seniors on the team there were expelled and might be getting charged with sodomy rape or sexual assault, and the school's baseball program is shut down, maybe even their entire athletic department."
"Oh shit. Why wouldn't Tim tell me that?"
"I guess he hates what happened to us. This year he and Mickey are captains. They toned it down huge."
"Yeah, he was all excited about the baby pajamas they made the new guys wear for the pep rally and all day at school before it! You think that's all he and Mickey made the new guys do?"
"Wayne and Jackie would have told me otherwise, code of secrecy or not. Besides, that was way funny! Heck, aside from the bonnets and soothers, I thought it was kinda hot in a weird way! Especially because they still had their jocks on underneath."
"I know!"
In the silence that ensues, I clear my throat and venture, "So, you asked me something personal, now I get to ask you something personal."
"Uh oh. Like what?"
"What do you wash your hair with?"
"Aussie shampoo," Jon answers skeptically, and bolts to turn on the light and look in the full length mirror on his closet door, "Why? Does it look dirty? Does it smell? Is it greasy? Do I have dandruff? I don't, do I?"
"Australian shampoo, is that code for dish soap?"
"What? No! It's seriously a brand that they stock at the grocery store Ma works at. Like that purple bottle in the shower. Your fancy Wal-Mart even has it."
"Oh."
"Why? Oh no, you don't think I use dish soap do you? I'm not that lame!"
I blabber, "Well I've just never seen shampoo that smells like lemon before, and the only bottle in the shower is the purple bottle you mentioned, but it's strawberry, and you have lemon sunlight in the kitchen."
"Daniel liked to comment on the strawberry-kiwi stuff I used to use. Tease me about it, so I got my own. I thought lemon was more manly than Ma and my sister's strawberry-kiwi. Besides, it's not even lemon, it's their Citrus Shine line. It's lime and something else, and it has aloe in it to make my hair soft and give it a nice shine, thank you very much! I don't like the smell of Tim's Pert Plus or Larry's Head and Shoulders. They both make me gag a little. Your hair smells like apples, what do you use, Palmolive dishsoap? I'll switch if you want."
"I don't know, I use the stuff Mama buys. Pears I think. I still say yours' smells like lemon. I like the scent, I didn't mean to offend. I was thinking of switching to yours even if it was dish soap. I tried the strawberry stuff in your shower and like that too."
"That's Ma's. That's the strawberry-kiwi stuff I used to use. If you want to use mine, the rest of us keep our stuff under the sink so the shower isn't cluttered on Ma, because she has to share the bathroom with three guys now instead of three girls."
"Gotcha. So, um, if you can hear conversations in the living room through the vent, do you think Larry's son heard us having sex above him on Christmas eve?"
"Uh, yeah. I think maybe the whole house heard us. But don't sweat it, you were the top that night. And I don't think we were the only ones anyhow. Dee pulled the sheets and bed liner from Tim's bed, and after mocking me, she said Ma and Larry were probably Louder than you and I. Christmas morning though, that one's on you."
"Don't tell me that! I was happier thinking that no one knew! I don't want your family knowing!"
"Yeah, well that genie's permanently out of the bottle. And they would be thinking it anyways. You have a dick, I have a dick. We're horny teenagers. Doesn't take a genius to figure out that something's gonna be going somewhere, one way or the other."
"Shush! New subject. When's Duncan arrive?"
"Mom's picking him up after her shift."
"And that would be when?"
"His plane lands around half past noon."
"What time does your shift finish tonight?"
"Five."
"I'm done at Sports Authority at noon, then have a hockey game with Jackie at 2, and have Wal-Mart from 6 until 9. I want to go home tonight and try to talk with my parents, but do you want me to save your friend from your mom in between my game and you getting home?"
"Could you?"
"Yeah. It might keep my mind of Belinda spending the day with Stacey. From the second I drop her off, I'll be counting down the minutes till I pick her up."
"I still think it's big of you to let Stacey have a day with her even when you don't have to."
"If her parents weren't going to be there the whole day I wouldn't."
"What time is it babes, or can you read it without your eyes in?"
"You're never going to let that one go are you? Well, just for that, you can get up and check for yourself. I'll warn you though, the p.m. dot isn't lit up yet," I say, making reference to a crack from Tim.
"It better not be, I'd be way late for my 8:30 shift if it were," Jon says as his naked body slithers a leg over my torso to get a look at the clock, his limp penis still feeling solid and desirable against my stomach, "Uggh! 7:04? I can't sleep in to save my life this week, and watch, next week you'll never catch me this wide awake at this time of morning. Kay, well, Belinda's still sleeping there, so I'm taking my ass for a quick shower, unless you want to ride it again."
"You're ready to go again already?"
"Um, yeah. You?"
He deftly infers by my reaching for the lube that I don't have to be asked twice. He gets right into position and helps me get erect. With little time to waste this one is all business, but satisfying for both of us nonetheless.
).:.(<<
After work I call my Daddy and ask him if we can talk tonight when I get home. I think he's caving from the pressure my aunts and uncles are heaping on him and Mama to lay off me a little, as well as some help from Jackie and Wayne's parents, who pointed out that I'm turning to near strangers in `Coach Maynes and his girlfriend' to help with Belinda. Of course they all don't know that Coach's girlfriend is actually my boyfriends' mother, nor do they have to know. At least everyone seems to be pointing out how hypocritical it is of my parents to turn on mw, especially seeing as the family I come from on my dad's side. Being a father by my age isn't all that abnormal for dad's side of the family, and considering my dad has 6 brothers and two sisters and his dad has 5 brothers and 5 sisters, starting early and having lots of kids is how we roll. Only, I don't plan on any more kids for me. All the same, Daddy agrees and seems to be genuine in wanting to lay off me a bit.
Following that phone call I race over to Jackie's to pick him up for our afternoon game today. He's made lunch for two, so I help demolish a quick box of KD before we head to the arena for our game.
After the game I drop Jackie off . He can't make any round robin game tonight or tomorrow or the first of two possible elimination games the following day while I have the next two days off. He cautions me like a nagging parent, "So you're going to have to wear Wayne's jersey the rest of the tournament because they have `him' or you, down as a left shot. And you didn't check any guys out that I saw today, so keep it up and all's good."
"None of them were worth looking at. Not even you," I joke.
"That's right. You apparently like the really scrawny guys. Yeah everyone in the dressing room's a little meatier than your man."
"Jon's fit. He's long and slender with great curves. Tim's made him develop some nice little pecks now and his stomach shows abs when he flexes it. He's just never going to be built, but at least he isn't fat."
"Well you need a little cushion for your pushin, unless your butt cheeks are his bumpers. Then you boys are set. You never did shed the fat ass when you lost that weight."
"Screw you. He loves my butt and I love his. You should see it actually, it's way cute and he totally does have some padding. More than I figured."
"Have you guys..."
"Uh-huh."
"And?"
"Awesome!"
"Who gets to uh..."
"We both do."
"Cool! I guess that's one advantage to being with a guy."
I change the subject, "Mind if I keep your equipment for tomorrow?"
"Uh, I guess, maybe. You're not going to play dress up with your man with it are you?"
"Wouldn't do that to ya Jackie my boy. Nah, Jon has a friend that's visiting for a week. I was thinking I'd wear your stuff tomorrow and he could wear mine. He's from Canada and he plays."
"Doesn't every kid in Canada play?"
"I don't know. Probably. I just figured that your team is going to be short at least you for tomorrow, so maybe the guy could pretend to be you for a couple games while I pretend to be Wayne."
"Yeah, he can wear my jersey as long as you wear the rest of my stuff and give this kid your stuff. Seriously. I don't want some weirdo I don't even know wearing my equipment. Let me just grab a couple things first."
Just as I expect, Jackie grabs his jock shorts, sweaty boxers, socks and towel when I drop him off. I guess he believes the rumour that went around the baseball team that Andy Shaw walked in on me masturbating to his jock a few years back on a baseball trip. Which, by the way, was a bold lie. I swear I never even knew some guys really did that until Jon.
"For the record, I never sniffed Andy's jock," I say as he zips his bag back up.
"Good to know Paulie. Don't be all sensitive just because I like to wash mine between games. I'm grabbing my skates too. Damp equipment can't be avoided, but cold, wet skates give me the heebie-jeebies. The only thing worse to put on is a cold and wet cup."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. You're a little right, but just a little. Your gay ass will still be wearing the rest of my stuff, and I really don't mind. Oh shit, let me take my mouthguard off my cage too. You don't want to touch that thing."
).:.(<<
When I get to Jon's house I find Duncan at the computer with Jon's ma, setting up a Napster folder just for her. He has a stack of her CD's and is ripping them to the hard drive and showing her how she can use it as a jukebox.
"Charlene introduces, "Duncan, this is Paul, Jon's boyfriend. Paul, Duncan."
"Hey! You look even better in person, not to be rude," He says, standing and offering his hand to shake.
"Jon's shared pictures that I look bad in?"
"No, not per se. He gave me his log on for your school's online yearbook. I creeped through the pics."
Charlene interrupts, knowing that now that I'm here she going to be ignored by Duncan, "Don't forget all those Canadian songs you promised!"
"Seriously? I wouldn't wuss-out on you like that! See right here, eight are still in que and we're downloading five from my account right now. This one's 93 percent transferred and that one's 84 percent," He says and clicks on one so that it starts playing. A cool guitar intro from a Honeymoon Suite song starts as he adds, "I'll see what else I have that you don't have, or what I think you'll like and transfer them for you too. If you don't like, you can sue me, or just delete them."
Wow, this guy is high energy and I don't think he stops smiling, even when he's talking! He's infectious. He's tall with a decent body, has an accent, and is hot to boot. He's like Jon's ex Chris, only bigger, and while boyish-cute, definitely more manly. Jon is going to love him. I'm jealous already.
When Jon gets home it's basically a hand off of Duncan from me to him. As Jon approaches the front door I excuse myself to a much needed shower before my shift at Wal-Mart. Not that it phases Duncan much, he still talking a mile a minute when he looks up at Jon and pauses, then declares, "Oh, wasn't expecting this. You're really kind of hot. In your pictures you looked more adorkable than hot."
Jon and I both ask, "Adorkable?"
He clarifies as if it's the most common phrase ever, "Yeah, dorky blended with adorable. You're like, way more yummy than your pictures give you credit for. Way more."
Jon is stopped dead in his tracks.
"Daa woops! I met your boyfriend by putting my other foot in my mouth. I'm not crushing on you or going to be all flirty or whatever. Just getting it out there, you two are cute as can be! Someone needs to get better pictures of you guys in your yearbook. There, I'm done, now lets forgedabouddit and how about a hug. It's awesome to finally meet you! I've been so looking forward to this week," Duncan says to smooth things over, throwing an Italian accent in the middle of his verbal barrage.
I give Jon a kiss just to be possessive, "You two behave now! I have to have a quick shower and get going or else I'm going to be late."
"Aww, don't be worried. I love you," Jon soothes as he hugs me tight. He blatantly breathes in my slight stink from hockey, then smiles devilishly and gives me another kiss.
"Yo, seriously. You two are cute little puppy dogs in love. Not that I had any intentions of hitting on either of you, but I promise you my earlier comments aren't it. Really. I'll tease but I'd never ruin what you guys have!"
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JON
As Paul heads up for his shower I feel validated that Duncan apparently thinks that both Paul and I are good looking. He's actually pretty damn stunning himself. He's tall and solid and his face is, well, stunning. He has a broad smile that shows his white teeth, perfect eyebrows, big bright eyes that are outlined by dark and solid eyelashes, a perfectly sculpted nose, a lean and round jawline and chin, and the kicker is the smattering of pale freckles across his high cheeks and nose. He is however considerably paler than me.
I can detect his subtle cologne a few feet away from me, something I picked up on as soon as we hugged. I toyed with buying that cologne, but figured dropping a ton of money on a bottle called Sexual wasn't in the budget. Turning to him I don't know what we should do, "So, you're actually here! What do you want to do first?"
"Aight. First thing I wanna do is change out of these pants. It's hella warm here. Then I want to see your world. You know, your school, the bleachers you got laid under, the mall where you work, the baseball diamond where you drool over your man, and your other man, the park where you have your deep epiphanies at. Super cool mom by the way, she's awesome! My friend Jase would be chatting her up over her CD collection, especially the George Harrison she's got pumping out right now."
"Kay, well you can change if you want. I can show you around but I don't have my licence."
"You need a licence to walk in Texas? Da-um! Looks like we're screwed!"
"No, I was just saying..."
"I knew it! You're so fun to trip up! It's even easier in person than through messenger! I promise I'll cut down on that too, but I do live for shock value, so you're gonna hafta deal...oh, and when we get to the mall and cruise the boys, you can't look. Partly because you're taken and mostly 'cause you tend to run into garbage pails when you stare at a nice ass for too long if memory serves me correctly...but I need to get a pair of skates at Sports Authority. Paul asked if I'd be up for playing a couple games as his friend in their Christmas tournament. Ha! I get to wear you boyfriends' equipment before you do, unless you've been naughty and have held out on me!"
All that spat out in seconds, and in an accent. My mind is trying to keep up, "Uh, well you can change in Tim's room. I'll show you."
"Upstairs, first door on the right. Your mom covered that and I helped her put some sheets on his bed. I was gonna wait until your man leaves for work before I change. He seems a tad possessive of you, don't blame him, so I'll just chill for now so he doesn't think I'm trying to undress for you or summin."
"He wouldn't think that. Hey, he's the one that gets to see you naked tomorrow for hockey if you're playing."
"Nah, I keep my boxers on under my hockey shorts. I like to cop a look myself, I mean hey, what self-respecting gay could deny himself the eye candy, but if they want to see my show they have to pay for admission first."
"Oh, well then..."
"Haha, you're so fun! You are like ten shades of red under your tan and you can't blame it on the reflection from the fire pit like you said you tried with Chris! Yo, look at me, I'm like Casper the ghost's albino vampire cousin here compared to you. I need to get some sun! F.Y.I. I wanna go home so dark that everyone'll be jealous of my bitchin tan!"
"Wow, do you remember everything I tell you?"
"Hey, when my only constant real boyfriend is my own hand, yeah, Ima live through you a little."
"But you have Benji," I point out.
"Total dry spell, and you know he's always maintained we'll never be proper boyfriends."
"Did you really eat a whole bag of your friends' skittles that day I called you or was that just a cover?"
"I'm being hyper aren't I? Sorry. I'll calm down soon. I've had like two bottles of Mountain Dew since the airport to keep myself awake and I'm prolly overtired too cause I've been up for way more hours than I can even add up right now. Yeah, I think that was a Mountain Dew and Yvonne's skittles that had me bouncing off the ceiling when you first called. She was being so bossy that day! Hey, you want to see me really spin? Got any candy? Oh look, there's your stud now! I'll go change now so you two can suck face in private for as long as Paul has. See you tomorrow Paul, and thanks for the offer! I can't wait! Who knew? Playing hockey in Texas, I never thought I'd ever do that," Duncan spews out and then attacks the stairs two at a time.
"He's full of piss 'n vinegar," Paul points out.
"Yeah, he's tired and hopped up on caffeine. Mountain Dew. I guess they don't have Red Bull in Vancouver. Maybe we should introduce him, but he did warn he'd probably act nervous and anxious at first," I defend.
"And he has the hugest crush on you," Paul suggests.
I disagree, "No way. He's just really forward like that. Chatting with him so much, he's a big part of me coming out of my shell. Not that I'll ever be as bubbly as him."
Paul pulls me in for a hug and a kiss, "Nah. Mark my words, he's totally in love with you. His breath caught when you walked in the door. He totally stopped talking mid-sentence, and he can talk. Watch out for him."
"I don't know. You think? Well if so, he's being super respectful of us. He didn't want to change until you were out of the shower just so you could see he wasn't undressing in front of me. Plus I get the benefit of you being jealous and touching me without holding back."
"Maybe. Yeah I am a lot more comfortable with the displays of public affection today aren't I."
I dig my hands into Paul's back pockets, squeezing his butt and grinding our crotches together, "So much so that I want to jump you right now and make you late for work. But I'll just have to wait until tomorrow night to sleep with the man of my dreams again."
Paul and I are stirred from our lengthy kiss when we notice a flash go off. Dressed in a sleeveless zip up hoodie and cargo shorts, Duncan is back before I know it, and making it evident that he thinks 70 degrees is warm. With an ever present smile he secures the camera in a side pocket of his shorts and shrugs, "Sorry, that was just too cute to pass up. I had to take a picture. Who knows, if it turns out really good maybe I'll blow it up and frame it, have someone write lyrics from an 80's love song over it."
I shoot back, "I charge for that."
"Oi, if ye be whore'n yerself out that's no my problem! Ye nay be getting a penny off me," Duncan fires right back at me with a Scottish brogue. Oh wow, this is going to be a week of shits and giggles for sure. I wish Tim were here for this, he'd absolutely get a kick out of Duncan.
We let Paul go so that he can get to work on time and then I raid the fridge for some Christmas leftovers. I stuff some turkey and cranberry into a few dinner rolls, nuke them and then Duncan and I head out with food in hand to show him my world. Along the way to the mall I point out landmarks pertinent to my life; Daniel's house, Tim's old house, my school and the music store at the mall. We beeline past the music store and straight to the small hockey section in Sports Authority.
Looking at the prices he gulps, but tries on a pair of skates. When he sends the employee looking for another pair in a better model he ask me my shoe size. Turns out we're the same, which he comments on, "You know what they say Jiffy, big feet..."
"Big dick," I say with a satisfactory smile.
"Wew! Judges, can we accept that answer? No? Oh too bad! And the answer is...drumroll...What is big feet, big shoes, and a small penis? Sorry about your luck Jiffy. I'll take Phallic Terms for a thousand Alex. Daily double? Awesome, I'd like to bet the whole schlong please!"
"Then yours is small too," I contend. We've never actually traded sizes; he's always made it very clear that that's not something we need to share.
"Nuh-uh. Your clown feet may be as big as mine, but I've got at least a couple inches in height on you. And I'm taller too," He jokes.
"I think I'm doing alright in that department," I suggest.
He gets serious for the first time since he's been in my presence. Looking around to make sure no one else can hear he says, "Chill big guy. I'm sure you're hung just fine. As long as it makes you and your man happy who cares what the rest of the world has to say. And we're still not going to compare. But if you still have my cup, I may need to borrow that back tomorrow."
"The yellow one?"
"What you get so many cups from different guys in the mail you don't know what one I sent you?"
"Yeah I still have it, 'kay."
"Well we've probably both done naughty things with it. I know I have, I can only hope you have too. No pressure, if you're not comfortable with it then Ima grab a new one while we're here. That's all yo," He says, his face finally blushing.
"Um, yeah we've both done more than sweat in it. But it's still perfectly fine. Just sort of awkward now that I have Paul," I suggest.
"What, that you have it in the first place or that you're excited about me sweating it up again. Ima buy a new one, don't worry," Duncan decides.
"Um, no. Maybe if you could use it again; that would be really hot. Paul knows about it. I told you I think he's into it too. It's just embarrassing talking about it."
"You sure don't seem so embarrassed when you type that shit out on messenger! Although, if by embarrassing it means you're boning up over it like me," He says shyly.
"Yeah, that too," I concede, "Where is that guy already? Did he go on break or get lost or what?"
"Haha, you're too much! If you weren't taken I'd be all over you. If you'd have me, that is. But forget that, it's cool. First impression; Paul is as awesome as you've advertised. I'm happy for you guys, but if you both don't end up in Vancouver for school I'm gonna be pissed. I think we all can be really good friends. Only I have to go get my own sex, which is cool."
I automatically spit out, "Benji?"
Duncan sounds contrite and resigned, almost mournful as he answers, "Dunno. Still haven't got him pegged. You know that red thong you sent me and how I told you he took it off me? He wore it yesterday for Christmas and then left it in my bag. I was packed and it was zipped up. He took it off in my bathroom, went into my room, unzipped my bag and left it on top. I think he swiped a pair of boxers from my hamper, and he left his hoodie for me."
I don't even know what to say to that. This guy is messing with my friend's head something fierce. There's a long moment of silence between us.
Turns out that the first pair of skates Duncan tried out are the ones he gets. The guy suggests they are too small but he insists otherwise, explaining how Wayne Gretzky apparently wore skates that were too small and curled his toes in them. He opts not to have them heated up and formed to his feet, but does get them sharpened and buys a pair of hockey shorts, explaining that he'd still like to maybe borrow the cup back, but needs the sock tabs on the shorts. After Sports Authority we tour the music store and then drop the hockey stuff of at my house.
From there we take a walk around to my two thinking places; the cemetery where my dad is and Freed Park, under the tree that in recent years I've come to think of as my `brooding tree'. It's not the tree that Daniel and I fooled around in, the same one I used to have a tree house with my childhood neighbor, Phil, but rather the one I was lounging under with Bandit and feeling sorry for myself over Daniel when Tim, Neil and Tania rescued me from my self pity.
Duncan and I share so much under that tree, I find him incredibly easy to confide everything in. A big part of that I know is because he's only here for a week and otherwise a sounding board for me somewhere far away, lost in his own world in another big city in a different country. He tells me a lot more about his home and his life than he'd previously revealed in our chats. He has a spot too, a park bench by a beach called English Bay that he tells me about and promises to show me sometime If Paul and I actually make it to his city for university.
As selfish as it is, having him there as a possible replacement in my life for my best friend Tim is a strong motivator for me to find a way to the University of British Columbia, when Tim leaves me to chase his baseball dreams at whichever college offers him the best package. If I wasn't so deeply in love with Paul after chasing each other for so long, I could easily fall in love with Duncan. He's way more outgoing and spontaneous than me, but at his core we are so alike, and he is really deep and grounded, caring and intuitive, just like Tim. He deserves better than to be jerked around like he is by his straight best friend / sexual partner. By the time the sun sets we can see the start of a sunburn rising in Duncan.
On our travels we stopped in at a variety store and grab Duncan his first ever Red Bull. I can see the caffeine is hardly even registering in his body so I figure it's time to head home as the sun sets. Before I can talk him into calling it a night he insists on giving me a belated Christmas gift. Even though we both promised to keep it inexpensive, it's so funny that we always come back to underwear. I got him a really nice pair of boxers from Hollister, and he got me a trunk style boxer brief and a thong from a store called Body Body on Davie Street in the gay area of Vancouver.
When his yawns seem to be contagious I chase him to Tim's room for bed. He pulls the sleeveless hoodie off over his head and then folds it and drops it on a chair. Even through his new white wife-beater I can see the fine muscle development on his back, from his traps and shoulders right down to his lats. When he turns to ask about a shower I'm a little in awe of the washboard stomach and his tight pecs. He said he was in shape, not ripped. He is a poster boy for toned and defined muscles and a walking billboard for personal fitness.
"Don't be impressed Jiffy. If I wasn't so lazy I'd bulk up some like my brother, instead of just maintaining this, but I'm not as disciplined as him."
"Kay. Do me a favour and don't catch me without my shirt on though? However built your brother Brennan is to you, you're that to me, so yeah...Like my stomach isn't an innie anymore, but I only have abs at all when I breath hard and flex."
"Cool yo! That's all you need. When Paul's sweating one out in you and he looks down, that's when he'll see them then. Or when you're loving him and he looks up and down your body, that's all you need. I'm not saying go ahead and get fat now, but you don't have to impress now, now that you guys are like married. All the same, you're not nearly as scrawny as you sell yourself. You're never going to be huge with your frame, but you can see the results of Tim dragging you to the gym. And I'm not referring to the wet spot you got in your shorts when you stole glances of your loverboy either," Duncan shares.
Damn if you aren't the gay version of Tim! Do you even smile in you sleep? You haven't stopped smiling and being positive and charming since I first saw you today.
As Duncan pulls a thin pair of sleeping pants and his travel bag of toiletries out of his stuffed gym bag that must be his suitcase, I explain, "Well, I think I should get to bed. I'll keep Bandit with me if you want to keep the door open, otherwise he'll probably hog the bed on you because he does it to Tim. He thinks it's his room I guess."
"No way! I've never had a dog, only a cat. He can sleep with me or wherever wants. It's his place," Duncan says with obvious excitement at the idea.
"I'll warn you, he doesn't just sleep at your feet. He pushes Tim around, and Tim's solid. You're height, broader shoulders, and even bigger chest and arms than you."
"Yeah, I've seen the pictures. He's a stud! Maybe I'll check under the mattress for any cummy boxerbriefs he's left that you haven't liberated yet...not! Da-um! Don't creep him out and tell him I just said that. It's really awesome of him letting me crash in his bed. You promise he knows I'm gay?"
"I promise. I haven't done laundry in days, there may be something in his hamper for you," I tease.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me, "Sha-right! Where?"
"Um, right there in that hamper," I point out.
"Cool-yo. But I was just kidding. I couldn't violate his privacy like that. I mean I could, and it is tempting, but I have my pride, so I wouldn't. Still, you went and told him everything about me and how we're both into underwear, so why don't you empty his hamper into yours. That way you can remove any shadow of a doubt for him. I mean, if I ever get to meet him some day, I don't want him thinking I went through his unmentionables. Letting me sleep in his bed is personal enough, and really super kind of him. I'm about to scrub myself clean in the shower and look here, see this? You can even tell him that I brought my own pillow, so he doesn't have to worry that some stranger drooled on his or whatever. He seems like a really nice guy, so yeah, just empty his hamper to give him piece of mind," Duncan urges as he places Tim's pillow on top of the hamper lid and removes his own pillow from a clear garbage bag he used to protect it in.
I note, "You're really serious, aren't you?"
"Serious like a heart attack! I don't like making people uncomfortable, so yeah. And could you say thanks again and goodnight to your mom and Larry for me? I sorta don't want to meet her boyfriend after my shower when I'm in PJ's," Duncan says, lifting the lid of the hamper and pretending to peak in before trying to tickle my stomach and then pointing past me towards the bathroom.
I step out of the doorway so he can get my, "Kay. G'night."
Duncan pulls me in for a very loose man-hug, "Sleep tight, and thanks again. This is so awesome! I'm super stoked and I'm so happy you're as chill as I thought you'd be. I hope I haven't been too weird for you tonight. The relaxed me at the park is more normal. Way more normal. I'll be that guy from here on out, I promise!"
When Duncan's settled in bed and sounds to be asleep I reflect on that hug. I'm glad he's here, and I'm glad he's being very careful of not crossing any boundaries. Wearing his old jock to bed, the one he gave me, with the very cup that he himself will be wearing again in a few hours, a small part of me is curious of how it would have felt if he hugged me tighter in his firm grip, but way more of me is happy with the way Paul held me so tight in his arms today rather than the fine china he's held me like in the past. I could feel the hard-on in my boyfriend's pants and I know it's for me because it was soft when I first ground my crotch against his. I hope once he has Belinda asleep that he's silently beating off to thoughts of me tonight in his own bed at home, because I'm about grab the first piece of his hockey gear I can get my hands on, airing out around my bedroom, and quietly masturbate to his scent.
).:.(<<
PAUL
The minute I can leave work I'm out the door like a cat out of water and on my way to pick up Belinda. I'm actually surprised that Stacey managed the whole day with our daughter, figuring that Belinda would become more than she could handle at some point. I figured I'd be taking Belinda off of her grandparents and Stacey would be out somewhere. I remain civil as I collect Belinda but it's an inner struggle. Stacey's parents helped to have her parental rights terminated, but that doesn't make them friendly to me. I'm still the one that got their daughter pregnant, and I think her dad would still like to get his bare hands around my throat.
When I get home things go pretty well. I had hoped the shame from my extended family and my parents friends, all members of our church, would lead to a truce between me and my parents. For the most part it does, albeit more tenuous with my mother. While I've been out today James has moved into our older brother's bedroom and he'll only have to share when one of our brothers is on leave. My parents expectation is that I will not waste money applying for college, start work full time at Wal-Mart under my Daddy the day after I graduate high school and save up enough to rent a place of my own by next Christmas. In return they, mostly Mama, will babysit Belinda for me when needed as she doesn't work anyways. My plan is quite different but I pretend to be grateful and accept their terms.
In the morning I pack Belinda up and head over to Jon's. Mrs. Wilson is going to watch my games today and while Jackie is at work with Jon, and while I'm playing she will take care of Belinda for me. Jon's worked the schedule so that he only has two short shifts at work after today for the remainder of Duncan's visit, but for the day today Duncan is my responsibility. As he's played hockey since he was 4 I invited him to play in the tournament I'm playing in, so today should be pretty fun.
When I get to Jon's house Larry is replacing the old mailbox with a new one Charlene wanted for Christmas. He does a double take as I park. When I get inside with Belinda I think I understand why. Above Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here' playing on Charlene's radio, upstairs I can hear Duncan playing Soul Asylum's Runaway Train' on Baroness. He actually sounds half decent.
As I enter Jon's room and drop Belinda in her crib I startle him with my observation, "You're halfway decent."
"Uh, thanks, I think," he responds.
We have a couple hours before our first game so I figure we can play guitars for a bit. I really want to play Storm, another acoustic guitar my uncle built for me for Christmas done in cherry sunburst, along with Renegade, a vintage cherry electric ES – 330. I'm dying to play both actually, but grab Windy as she's on hand, and find out what Duncan likes and knows. We decide on the song I just heard on the radio. I teach him some chords and we mess around with the song until it's time to pack up the hockey bags and head to the arena for our first of two games today.
When we get to the arena and are dressed and ready to hit the ice there are only ten of us and two goalies. We don't meet the minimum number of players so Jackie and Wayne's team has to forfeit the game, and thus have no chance of advancing out of the round robin. The other team asks if we still want to play, for fun, and everyone votes yes.
Worried he'll sound out of place, any time Duncan talks while we're at the arena, he does it with his attempt at a Texan accent. Not knowing a mouthguard is standard in this league, he begs a couple pieces of gum off one of the guys and molds them around his front teeth to make it look at a glance like he's wearing one. He also pulls out the cup from his shorts and slips in the yellow one from Jon's sock and underwear drawer, the one I know he gave Jon.
He also has to use a right handed stick, although he's a lefty, because Jackie is listed in the roster as a righty. Even so, Duncan is dynamite on the ice. He can clearly skate and pass better than anyone on the ice. His give and go's are right on the tape and his first shot is a lazer of a wrist shot right between the goalie's knees to the back of the net. After his first shift I tell him, "You might want to tone it down a little, if you make Jackie look like a superstar the other teams will figure out you're not really him and we'll all be in trouble."
Duncan nods his head, "Aight-yo. But just so you know, I was toning it down already. It's hard to not look good going around Tiny, the three thousand pound blob of a defenceman. He's about as fast as molasses running uphill in the winter. And their goalie is weak; after I helped him up he saved face by making it clear he's usually a forward but switched with their goalie since this game counts for shit."
"Ya, but you snowed him," I point out.
The only time Duncan ditches his weak Texan accent is for a perfect proud Cartman voice, "Yeah, I did! But I apologized! When I helped him up I was all like `peace-yo, bro. Sorry, just got new skates for Christmas and the dick sharpened them too high.' It could be true, kinda is, but I maybe put a little extra into the snow-job just for fun too. Still, wobbly-legs in net there bought it, and that's all that counts. He's nuts are probably just happy I didn't go a little higher 5-hole. Good thing no one on their team decided to protect him and mess up my handsome face."
We lose the game 7-5, Duncan scored three goals in the first period and one early in the second before he started purposely bouncing shots off the goalie's pads. I collect a couple assists as one of his line-mates. After we leave the arena we stop by Wal-Mart so that Duncan can get a mouth guard. When we're driving back to Jon's I ask, `What's with the voices. You're Texan accent is weak."
He switches to a much better Texas drawl, "Well yeah! That's because it's my Georgia accent. When you handed Queen B here over to her, his mom mentioned Jackie's family is from there, so I was playing cousin Duncan from Atlanta."
"Oh. Well they're from Savannah."
"Yer boss, there too," Duncan starts in hillbilly, and then switches to his natural voice, "I don't know. I think sometimes my voice sounds really super-fabulous. You know, gay? Not like a lisp or anything, just normally a little bit stereotypical gay. And when I get excited, well fuck me if my voice doesn't sometimes scream gay. I don't try to sound this way, but I've also given up trying not to. It's just my natural voice and back home I'm really lucky to be accepted. But you know, here's different so I was just acting in character, and putting a specific voice to it so that I didn't slip up and get our asses kicked for being gay. Notice I wore this wet and gross undershirt before, during, and after the game? Even into Wal-Mart. I have a tattoo on my shoulder that is filled in with the rainbow for anyone that looks close enough."
"Oh. I didn't know. And I really don't think your voice sounds gay. Your accent is different enough that I just took it as Canadian."
"Yeah, well. What can you do? If you get to come for school, you'll clearly hear the difference between me and other Vancouverites. Could be worse, at least I'm not a sore thumb in Cow Town."
"Cow Town?"
"Yeah, Calgary. Bunch of cowboys, but a different accent than you Texan cow pokes. Heading east there's a Prarie accent, a Hog Town accent, a French accent, a Maritime accent and a Newfie accent. Oh, and Native Canadian, but I never try theirs because I think it's a little disrespectful, and they have to have different regional inflections too."
"So you're like what, a man of a thousand voices?"
"Hardly, but it's one of my more annoying habits. Or so I'm told. I hear an accent and I want to perfect it. I hear a language and I want to learn it. I used to piss my friends off sometimes when I'm always speaking in voices or actually flat-out speaking in another language. Now they just live with it. It's me."
"Speaking of language, even though it's English, you Canucks have a language all of your own. Hog-town?"
"Yeah, that's Toronto. I think the early western settlers used it as a foil. They said it was because Toronto is where they shipped their pigs to be slaughtered, but really it was because they quietly thought of Torontonians and Ontarians as pigs."
"Ontarians?"
"Yeah, Ontario, it's the province Toronto is in. I'm from British Columbia. A province to us is like a state to you."
"Oh, so that's what the name of the university means. That makes a lot more sense now!"
"Just wait 'till you get there and discover how many words we stick a silent letter `u' in. Then nothing will make sense to you anymore! I swear, spell-check hates Canadians."
"Jon says that it's a lot easier to be gay there. Is it easier?"
"Without a doubt I can promise you it is. How much easier depends. The older generations are more rigid, but from like my parents' generation and down, I don't know yo, it's like not that big of a deal. Maybe not for everyone our age 'cause everyone has their own circumstances, but my friends, like every last one of them except two, don't give a rat's ass that I like guys. They all knew before I ever confirmed it, and were super chill. No word of a lie, some of the girls love the fact that I'm gay. One even was my beard. We were supposedly boyfriend and girlfriend, and when she caught me with my first, well, only boyfriend, she was so awesome.
She pointed out that one of many clues was that I'd unconsciously flinch any time one of her boobs came in any casual contact with me. While I was using her, she was using me because she knew I was safe, and she didn't really want a boyfriend. She definitely likes boys and is shockingly graphic, usually in German so no one but me understands, but she had a lot of other things going on in her life at the time and I was a good cover. So, who showers first or do we shower together?"
It's a good thing I just parked and turned the car off, "What?"
"You know, shower? Steamy bathroom, you get nekkid, I get nekkid, I wash your back, you wash mine, I grope you, you grope me, we make messy in the tub? Chill out dude, I'm only kidding! Haha, you're too funny; I can't even keep a straight face with you about ready to have a conniption over there! Like, seriously, I don't want your head to explode. Just kidding you for shits and giggles. Peace yo! Although Jon's right; you're actually super cute when you blush. You guys are both lucky to have each other, and I'd never, not ever, do anything to mess with that. That's like the lowest of the low. I warned you already; Ima tease you, but I'd never be that kind of douche to follow through on what I say for shock value."
Jon's also right about Duncan, he is very quick witted. I can't help but laugh as I get Belinda out of her seat, "Let's air out this stuff on the back deck and then you can have first shower."
Duncan' right back at it. Pointing at a raccoon watching us from the roof of a neighbour's shed, he says. "Aight yo. I'll get started with this stuff, and you can give that little darling some daddy time. If your jock goes missing though, Ima be upfront, I blame that raccoon."
"If my hockey shorts go missing I'm not checking to see if he's covering his Texas toothpick with it!"
"His what now?"
"His toothpick."
"You guys seriously call your junk Texas toothpicks?"
"Nah. Raccoons have real bones in their penises. If you trap and kill any, you're supposed to take out its love bone and dry it. Then you put it on a string and give it to a girl that you like."
"And exactly what does she do with a raccoon's dried penis?"
"Just the bone from it, not the whole thing. She wear's it."
Duncan picks up my jock and cups it to himself, "Naturally. Of course she does, how silly of me! Fuck that shit yo! Can you say eww, gross? I'll just stick to human boners, the bigger the better, and hope to get back out of this crazy state with my stuff intact yo!"
I'm taken aback that he just did that, even if his shorts and boxers were between my shorts and his dick. I have a little edge to my voice as I grab them back off him and set them down to dry in the sun, "If my hockey shorts go missing I'm wearing yours for the next game and you can go without."
"Hey, if you wanna trade all you have to do is ask. I'm down with that," He jokes.
"I'll pass. I did see your switch cups at the arena."
"Jon gave it back for today. I always liked the way it fit."
"I'm not sure how I feel about it so I change the focus, "I thought you have a guy back home for that?"
"Yeah. But it's complicated. I hate complicated. I just wish he loved me back the same way I love him. Like you and Jon. Sorry for getting all emotional. And sorry for being so, spazzy, on you all day. I get too carried away some times, that's nothing new. I thought I'd have calmed down by now though. I think it stems from a twinge of jealousy of you and Jon. You guys have something special, I can see it already. Then there's a couple I met on the plane yesterday. But yeah, like I said I get carried away sometimes. It's who I am I guess. Sorta like when I sent my baseball stuff in the mail to Jon. Oops. Um, you know about that right?"
"Yeah I know. We just talked about it."
"Oh yeah, so we did. And you're cool with that?"
In the moment I decide, "Yup."
"Cool-yo. You're saying yes through your mouth but I'm hearing a definite hells-no from the rest of you. Ima drop it now."
After Duncan and I each have quick showers we form his mouth guard and then get back to the guitars. He's so excited that I am left handed too that I can't hold out on him; I break out Merlin, my iced tea finished Les Paul. Duncan is intently focused on learning the Eric Clapton part of the Beatles `While My Guitar Slowly Weeps' when his cell phone rings.
As Duncan talks on the phone my mind wanders to the second guitar I got for Christmas, Renegade, the vintage cherry ES-330, and how it would be perfect for this song, until Duncan gets my attention, "Yo Paul? I know I've only been here for 24 hours and came to visit Jon and you, but I met these two guys on the flight down here, they're staying in a hotel downtown, and they're actually a pretty cool couple. I told them to call me and maybe we could all go out for dinner one night or something. Are you cool with that? I could tell them no. I don't know what Jon would say, I forgot to mention it last night."
"For sure, go for it. You could go tonight or tomorrow, or if you want to go when Jon or I are working," I trail off.
I know part of this whole visit for Jon and Duncan is to feel connected to a friend that's also gay. To be honest despite Duncan's obvious crush on Jon, and I'm thinking Jon's attraction to him, I too was looking forward to getting to know another gay guy, especially one who lives where we're most likely going to be going to college. In that regard I can see why Duncan wants to hang out with two more gay guys that he just met. I don't want to stand in the way of that, even if I do think it's more than a little rude.
Duncan obviously feels the same way, "Don't you guys don't want to come too? Strength in numbers, you know? I was really hoping we all could meet up. I'll pay for Jon and Belinda and you, if you come. In fact, I won't go unless you guys come too. I'll just tell them no, you guys are being hella cool to me and I'm being rude."
As I said earlier, I'd actually like to get to know Duncan and this is obviously part of who he is. And being around another gay couple would actually be nice. Not exactly strength in numbers as Duncan suggests, but feeling normal and just being with our own kind is appealing. I take a gamble, "No, don't. We're in. And you're our guest, we'll pay for you. Just have to figure out where and when. I'm not out and you don't strike me as obvious, but I don't want anyone to know. We still have 6 months left here. Do you think they're obvious."
"Nah," Duncan says for benefit of them hearing over the phone but immediately begins tilting his head from shoulder to shoulder as if contemplating, and fluttering his free hand in a `so-so' manner.
I suggest, "Well if they're downtown, Jon used to work at a restaurant that way. We could do dinner there tonight or meet up anytime tomorrow."
Duncan makes the plans for tonight and uses me to give directions. I call the restaurant but they don't take reservations, so Duncan calls the guys back and asks them if they mind going a little earlier to get our name on the list if there's a wait. With Jon finishing work at five it's the only way it'll work tonight.
After everything is set we play a few other songs on the acoustic guitars until it's time to head back to the arena. For this game we have one less player, but the goalie that played in net the first game has player equipment too, so we offer the other team to play just for fun.
This game is nothing like the last game. We lose 14-4 with Duncan collecting two unassisted goals this time. In the dressing room afterwards he is the center of attention. I've played with or against all of these guys over the years as this was our home arena for house league. Only a handful of the guys go to the same school as me, and of those guys, we get along fine. Everyone seems to buy Duncan's Georgia accent and that he's Jackie's cousin. I'll have to fill Jackie in on that tidbit as soon as possible.
He handles the attention fine, but when we leave he mentions, "I stuck out like a sore thumb. Still, it's too bad I only got two games outta these skates."
When we reach the parking lot someone says something in another language that stops Duncan in his tracks, the guy is saying to a friend, "Blick auf diese zwei sind hintern freunde." (Look at those two butt-buddies.)
Duncan looks at the guy and fires back, "Wunschdenken?" (Wishful thinking?)
That's where I recognize the one guy from, my ex Stacey. He points at me, "Tunte." (Faggot.)
Duncan only says, "Wo?" (Where?)
"Ihr freund," The mouthy one says. (Your friend.)
Duncan is fluent in whatever language they're speaking and fires back, "Sie wissen er hat eine Tochter?" (You know he has a daughter?)
Still staring at Stacey's friend, Duncan quickly adds, "Fick dich." (Fuck yourself.)
"Arscholoch!" (Mother fucker!)
Duncan is a solid guy. Through a thin tee-shirt that is damp and stuck to his body you can clearly see that he is chiseled with defined arms, shoulders, and chest. He drops my hockey bag, straightens his shoulders, puffs up his chest a little and stares hard at the guy. He makes a quick move like he's about to throw a punch and the other guy flinches. It's clear by his tone that he's threatening the guy, "Nur verhandeln. Nicht so denken, Muschi." (Just try me. Didn't think so, pussy.)
Then Duncan drops his guard and clasps the two guys on their shoulders, "Guys! Peace-yo! Lemme be honest. I'm just messin with ya'll 'cause you guys speak it and I love talking tough in it. I mean really, it's so intense even `I love you' sounds angry in it. It's all like; how was your day, spit! My day was boring, spit! Well that's too bad, my day was great, spit! Pass the salt, spit! Here you go, spit! Thank you, spit! You're welcome, spit! I mean it for real; no language is cooler than that! It's the fricken bomb and I never get to use it."
The guys laugh, "Arscholoch!" (Mother fucker!)
Picking up the bag of equipment, he makes a bee-line for my car, "Haha. Ima jet with Paul, we're on a schedule. Catch ya'll next game. You guys are good, too bad not enough guys are showing up. We coulda won that one."
We're on the road minutes after we came off the ice, opting again to shower at Jon's when we get there. I ask him, "What was I missing back there that you guys were fighting over in Russian?"
"I only know a few words and phrases in Russian. French is the language of love, while that, that angry language was German. Someday I'm going to visit there. Have a schnitzel on a bun with some sauerkraut in the shadow of the Berlin Wall. So yeah, when fucktard called us butt-buddies to his friend, I called him on it. Then he corrected it to just you, so I told him you have a daughter. Then I told him to fuck himself. He called me a motherfucker, and I told him to just try me. When he flinched I taunted him and said I didn't think so and called him a pussy. Then I smooth talked them so your friend doesn't take shit over it."
Spotting a McDonald's sign a millisecond later, he switches gears, "Damn I'm hungry. The second Jiffy gets home we're dragging him by his short-and-curlys to dinner. Hell, if he's home I'll even skip a shower and go smelling like this. Everyone else can just enjoy the smell of you and me. And hey, you and Jon can tolerate me, so I know you guys will love Bailey and Neville. They are so opposite me. Well, the one is; Neville. He's all zen-like, calm, and collected. At first he was all spastic like me, but he calmed down in minutes. I think he's a man of few words too, direct and to the point. And tall, shit is he tall! He's like six and a half feet. Just a gentle, quiet giant. I think he's more the wallflower type; you know, sits back and observes, adds a deep thought here or there. Of course I'm clearly not a man of few words. Now Bailey on the other hand, I can see him being a total spinner like me."
Duncan has been wound tighter than a juiced ball, "Those two guys really upset you, huh?"
"Yeah. It's that noticeable, huh? I had a couple friends that were like that. They're the guys I told you about earlier. Seriously, other than one dipshit at school that turned out to be cool, they're the only two guys that ever really gave me any crap, but they sure gave it to me. They quit our band over me. Well, the rest of the guys told them not to come back. I stopped playing hockey because of them though. The made me feel so...wrong. Powerless. Sorry. I tried not to react."
Maybe Duncan's right. Strength in numbers. And I'm not just talking about dinner tonight. I think going to school in Canada, and being accepted might really be a good thing beyond a way for me to disappear from my family.
).:.(<<
Yes! I know it's just Hallowe'en right now and this chapter takes place around Christmas. That's what happens I guess when I fall a couple months shy of two years behind in posting. Bad me. I am comitted to finishing the story and have the remaining 5 chapters of Wings of Tomorrow now complete and in varying stages of revision. For a sneak peak email: phantomscorpio77-subscribe@yahoogroups.ca or go to: http://ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/phantomscorpio77
Cheers,
~Jade