"Powell and Me" is a work of fiction about love and sex between teen boys. No resemblance to persons living or dead is intended. If you are underage, or if possession of this text is illegal in your area, leave now. Some of the activities described in this story may cause injury or transmit diseases, including HIV.
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Powell and Me 11
Mrs. Barlow's committee voted to support the club by three to one with one abstention, because the guy didn't like the name! (I wasn't too happy about "Fillmore High LGBTQ Club" either, but I wouldn't have abstained!) A week later, the School Board approved the club, five to three. The abstainer guy abstained again, but Mrs. Barlow was one of the supporters! It made the paper, of course, and there were the usual nasty comments "for balance" on TV. The important thing, though, was that Danny actually called me!
"What now?" he said.
"Huh?"
"Now that there's a club, what happens?"
"We get together and sit around and talk, I suppose."
"Seems like a lot of fuss for a gab fest."
"Yeah," I agreed. "But eventually we'll come up with more stuff, like a better name, and talking to teachers about sensitive issues, maybe, or a Student Council resolution supporting GLBTQ rights--"
Danny laughed. "When do you plan to take over the school?"
"Our senior year," I laughed, in return.
"So ... is it too early to celebrate?"
"Celebrate?"
"You and me? A little private get-together?"
"I'm in!"
"You do pot?"
"Um ..." I looked around my bedroom like my parents might have somehow teleported in. "Maybe ..."
"Sounds like you need a little education, smarty-pants."
So we went to the boathouse, so Danny could show me how to smoke pot. "It's easy," he said. "Just inhale and hold your breath. Like this."
I watched, almost hypnotized by the beauty of his lips. He handed the joint to me and nodded, and I tried to do what I'd just watched him do. It wasn't easy. I coughed all over the place before I finally caught on. "I thought you were broke," I gasped, at last.
Danny nodded. "Dodger gave me this for ... helping him distribute."
"You could get busted!"
"Yeah," Danny said, pulling in another lungful.
"You can't do that!"
A few seconds later, Danny exhaled, slow and easy. "Why not? I'm already a queer!"
"Huh? Being gay isn't illegal!"
"Don't you believe in God?"
"Not that one! The God I believe in ..." I took a hit, held it for a few seconds, then coughed it out. "The God I believe in created marijuana!" I laughed, and Powell joined me. "And brought us together."
"Huh?"
"Brought us together. God. 'Cause he thought we'd be cool together." I was quiet for a minute or so. "He said we should love each other."
"That was Jesus." Danny took another hit.
"So? It's still right." Another toke. "You think God would be mad at his kid for saying we should love each other?"
"My dad was."
"Well, your dad isn't God, is he?"
"Fuck, no!"
We both fell back laughing and after a few seconds, I said, "Blow smoke into my mouth."
"Huh?"
"Take a hit and kiss me and blow the smoke into me!" So Danny sat up and took a big hit and lay down on me and kissed me and pushed smoke into my mouth, and we both wound up coughing and rolled apart and lay on our backs for a while, until everything settled.
Powell addressed the roof of the boathouse. "This is all so fucked up." He sounded more confused than angry.
"Because everybody's hiding," I explained with utter confidence. "And everybody's hiding because everyone's scared, because everyone else is hiding. It's a vicious, um, what's-it. That's the point! If we weren't scared, there wouldn't be a problem! We could just be ... us, like any other couple. Vicious circle!" I added, like I'd discovered gold.
"We're a couple?" Danny rolled over and stared at me.
I turned my head and stared right back at him. "I want that more than anything else in the world, Danny. I want it--us! I want us!" It felt like the most important thing I ever said, or anyone ever said.
For a moment, Danny just kept staring at me. Then he rolled away and said, "This is nuts! You're nuts. I'm nuts!" He rolled back to face me and whispered, "You're right, Eddie. I am scared. I'm scared as fuck. Of the guys, of my mom and my old man, of ... shit!" He rolled away again. "Everyone. It's wrong, Eddie! This is wrong! It has to be!"
"No it's not, Danny!" I wriggled closer. "You know how it feels--how we feel. How the hell can that be wrong, feelings like that? Honest, now. How?"
"I don't know! I want to hug you, but--"
I rolled Danny over and got on top of him and wrapped my arms around him, and right then, I was absolutely convinced that I could fight off anyone or anything that came between us. "We're not hurting anyone! And we're not alone, Danny. That's what the club is about. We're not alone!"
Danny scowled, and his face disappeared behind Powell's. "All the freaks?"
"All the people like us who aren't afraid to love someone! Who aren't going to let Horse and guys like that stand between us!"
"I don't think I can do this!" Danny pleaded.
"Yes, you can, Danny! If I can do it--"
"You can't--they'll cream you, Eddie!"
"If that's what it takes--I'm not giving you up, Danny! You mean too much to me! I love you!"
"You're crazy!" He looked deep into my eyes. "You're crazy brave, at least. God! I don't even know how the fuck to talk about this!"
"That's what else the club is for. So we can talk!"
"Like I'm going to tell a roomful of queers about us?"
I caught his eyes again and took his head in my hands and I felt him grab me before I could lose my balance and roll off. "Yes!" I insisted. "And they're going to be happy for us, and on our side, and everything. It'll be like ... like coming home from a long journey, or something, or a war, like."
"You're fucking crazy."
"I'm crazy for you, anyway."
Danny looked past me at the holes in the roof of the boathouse. "I just don't get it, Man," he said, at last.
"Danny ... have you ever felt like this before? About anyone?"
Powell shook his head.
"Does it feel ... good?"
"It's scary as shit! That's--"
I pressed him. "But does it feel good?"
Danny Powell looked into my eyes, then nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "It feels awesome."
"Well, hold onto that part and fuck the rest."
"You don't understand! I don't know why--"
"Doesn't make any difference! All we need to do is hold onto that feeling!"
He just stared at me for what seemed like forever. And then he ran his fingers through my hair and whispered, "So ... what do we ... I mean, what now?"
I kissed him again and giggled. "How about we get naked and have sex."
Danny thought about that for so long I began to get worried--or at least it seemed long. "'Kay," he smiled, at last.
So we stripped and smoked a little more, and had sex: the sort of silly, dreamy sex you can have when you're stoned and you get sidetracked by the back of a knee or how if you bite someone's butt just right it doesn't hurt and even if your cock isn't hard it's fun to play with until it gets hard. Danny waved his around and I tried to catch it with my lips, and then we tried to sort of put our legs together so I could rub his balls with my balls while our cocks flopped around wondering why they weren't getting all the attention. And then we held our cocks so the ends were facing each other and gave them voices so they could talk about what they would like and Danny's cock said, "You ever been in someone's ass?" and mine said, "I tried once, but he didn't like it," and Danny's said, "Would you like it? I mean would your ass like it?" and my cock said, "I'm not sure. My ass didn't like his finger even, really!" So his cock said, "He put his finger up there?" and mine nodded and Danny's finger poked up and said "Can I try?" and my finger poked up and answered, "You got to get all wet and slick--and I get to try, too. In yours. Your ass."
So our fingers wrestled a little and decided that Danny's would try first, so he spat in my asshole and sucked his finger really wet and pushed it in and my asshole sort of throbbed for a while, but then he went further in and it wasn't so bad. So then I did the same thing to him, really slow, and he wriggled, and I think he liked it. But by then our cocks were really getting impatient, so we sucked them off while our fingers poked our assholes. It was almost like I was tickling Danny's cock with my finger as well as my tongue. Then we slept for a while, and then Danny said, "What am I gonna do? Dodger's old man is starting to complain about how I'm 'eating him out of house and home,' like I'm some kind of rat, or something!"
"You can't go back home, huh?"
Danny shook his head. "I wouldn't even know what to say to my old man--or my mom."
And I remembered what I'd told Mrs. Barlow about how the club could help with that, and I got an idea. "We'll work it out, Danny." And we kissed, and I took his hand and we walked back to the fence holding hands without even worrying about anyone seeing us.
When I got home, I called Alan and Jen, and Jen called Shana, and I convinced Danny to meet us at WWP the next day. Alan drove us to WWP and we talked about ways to talk to our parents.
"You could just say it, you know," Jen said, to start things off. "Hey, Mom and Dad, I'm gay."
"Or even, 'You know I'm a lesbian, right?'" Shana offered. "That's what I said."
"Danny's not a lesbian!" Alan laughed.
"My mom would freak!" Danny objected. "Besides, my old man already ..."
"How'd he find out?" Alan asked.
"I got some stuff from the free clinic and he found it."
"Better than porn, at least," Alan sighed.
"Is that how your--" I gasped.
"Not exactly. But I had all these bodybuilding mags. And one day, he asked me."
"And you told him!" Jen grinned. She turned to Danny. "See? Easy!"
Alan shook his head. "Not so easy. Not right out. But I realized if I said 'No,' I'd have to keep lying forever, or something. And was seeing this guy--"
"More than seeing, right?" I asked, and Alan blushed. "Ken, right?"
"We'd just met, but it felt--it's hard to explain, but it felt--"
"Right? Like it just had to be?" But I was looking at Danny when I said it.
Alan smiled, softly. "Yeah. I just couldn't imagine hiding that from Dad, you know?"
Danny shook his head. "You don't get it! It'd be like I was telling them I had cancer, or something!"
"Well, that there's your problem!" Shana announced. "It's not like cancer! It's like you won the lottery! It's a good thing. It's like things start to make sense!"
"As much as they ever do, anyhow," Jen laughed. "My straight friends tell me about being in love and how their boyfriends don't understand them and I realize, 'Shit! That's just like with girlfriends, sometimes!'"
"For you, maybe," Shana laughed.
Danny scowled. "So what am I supposed to say? 'Hey, folks, I'm a fag? Congratulate me?'"
"Well, yeah. I mean you could, I suppose," Jen sighed.
"They'd--they'd flip out!"
"But it's not about them," Alan said, and it was like he was just figuring that out as he talked. "It's about us--you. Who you are! They could freak out, but it wouldn't change anything. It's not like we need their permission! It's ... it's like saying you trust them! You're sharing something ... good!"
"It is good, Danny," I said, holding his clenched fist.
Powell pulled his hand away. "Not for them!"
"Then it's their loss," Shana said.
"It's weird," Jen admitted. "It will take them some time to ... understand. But it's about your happiness, Danny--yours. It's up to them if they want to share it with you!"
"You have to do it," Alan said, and again it was like he was talking to himself. "Or you don't, but then you just live with having to lie all the time. And that's fucked." Then, he smiled. "And not in the good way."
"We'll go with you, if you want," Jen offered. "Maybe your dad will be less of an asshole with a woman present."
Shana just rolled her eyes at that. "But we'll go, if it'll help," she smiled. "Whenever you want. Whenever you're ready."
But then Powell slammed his hand down on the table and said, "Fuck it! I gotta tell them, one way or another! It's not like my old man's going to stop suspecting, no matter what! At least ... no bullshit!" And he looked at the five of us, and we all nodded.
"No time like the present," Shana grinned, so we got up and marched out of WWP. On the way to Danny's building, we agreed that it really was the world's worst pizza.
When we got to the building, Danny looked at the door at the top of the steps, and then looked at us again. "You all gonna hang out here?"
We all nodded, like those bobblehead things.
"Don't go anywhere," he said.
Jen offered to go in with him again, and Shana shook her head. "Man gotta do what a man gotta do, Jen," she said, and she turned to Danny and smiled and said, "We'll be right here for you." Danny took a big breath and smiled at us and climbed the steps and went inside.
"That boy's got a beautiful smile," Shana said, and I blushed, just a little, and nodded. We hung out on the steps and just looked right back at people who looked at us, and we tried to imagine what was going on inside.
After a while, Alan tightened up said he heard some yelling, and somebody saying, "Fuck you!" and a door slamming, and a few seconds later Powell burst out of the apartment building with his backpack and a trashbag stuffed with clothes and things, and almost fell down on top of us. "Let's go!" Powell said, and we all got down to the sidewalk when this guy--turned out it was Powell's dad--threw the door opened and yelled "You and your filthy faggot friends get the hell out of here!"
Jen and Shana gave him the finger and Alan herded us down the sidewalk.
"And don't ever come back here again!" Danny's father yelled. Powell started to turn around, but I grabbed him. "No!" I said. "It's his loss, Danny!" And Powell sort of froze for a second and looked at me, and I'd never seen a look like that on his face before, like something was broken inside. "Yeah," Danny said, "it is, isn't it?"
"You did it, Danny!" Shana said, and applauded, and the rest of us joined in.
"We should celebrate," Jen declared, so we piled into Alan's car and wound up at Jen's house. "Mom, Dad, this is Eddie, who I told you about, and his friend Danny. You remember Shana and Alan."
"Welcome," Jen's mother smiled, and she did a pretty good job of hiding her surprise at our invasion.
"Danny just came out to his folks, and they didn't take it too well," Jen continued.
"My old man told me to go to hell," Powell snapped. "Threw me out of the apartment."
"He's a ass--not a nice guy," Shana said quickly.
"Your father threw--"
"I told him he was right," Danny said, smiling sadly. "I told him I really was a fag,and there was nothing anyone could do about it--him, or me, or anyone. And he told me to get the hell out of the house."
"How did your mother take it?" Jen's mother asked.
Danny frowned, then he sighed. "She sorta flopped down on the couch, bawling. I got my stuff and came back into the front room and she was sitting there and she waved at me like I was a bug, or something, and she just kept saying, 'Go, go.' I tried to say something to her but my old man just grabbed me and pushed me into the hall." He looked at all of us and his face got all wrinkled like it does when you're trying not to cry.
"I'm going to heat up some spaghetti," Mrs. Legato announced. "Fred, why don't you show Danny the guest room." And she disappeared into the kitchen.
Jen's dad made this little coughing sound and turned to Danny. "Right this way. Follow me," he said, and Danny did. I watched them climb upstairs.
I turned to Jen, eyes wide. "You've got the best parents ever!"
"They have to be, to put up with me," she blushed.
We all kept talking over the spaghetti (which was fantastic!) We talked about being kids, and being gay or lesbian, and Jen's dad told us about how much worse it used to be with people getting arrested and even getting castrated and stuff. And I talked about the letter again, and Danny said, "That's the sort of crap my old man believes."
Jen's mom nodded her head and said her folks used to say the same things, and then she met this gay guy who was her best friend in college and he introduced her to her husband. Jen's dad laughed and said, "I guess he figured if he couldn't have me, he'd give me to you."
Danny almost spit out his spaghetti, and then he turned to us and said, "You guys all make it sound so normal!"
And Jen's dad nodded. "It is, Danny. No matter what they say, it's perfectly normal. It's about love, not about what's between your legs!" and he blew his wife a kiss, and Jen hid her face in her hands.
After we ate, I helped Danny bring his stuff up to the Legato's guest room. He didn't have a lot--mostly clothes, and a cheap radio alarm clock and a toothbrush and stuff. We got it all sort of put away and then he sat down on the bed and looked at me. "Eddie," he said, and just stopped.
"It's going to be all right," I smiled. "Really!"
"Get out of here, okay? I'll call you."
"Danny, I--"
"Just go, please."
"Okay. I'll be downstairs." I took my time--maybe an extra five seconds--but I could tell Danny really wanted me to leave, so I did, and I shut the door and stood there for a bit. I heard him start to cry, but I didn't go back in. He needed to be alone to do that.