Ch 38 - Swishy on the Bus

Walter couldn’t help but notice the teen boys as he walked to the back of the metro bus, not because they were cute or handsome, but because they reminded him of the jock boys from high school.  They were like the ones who had chased him through the halls and bullied him.  He eyed them warily as he stepped between them, two on each side of the aisle.  He was afraid of being tripped or antagonized in some way.  His fear only seemed to draw their attention.

They sniggered and laughed, seemingly at his expense.  He thought to prepare himself in some way so he sat up straight, his body became rigid.  It was a facade of masculinity he had used in those high school days.  That was when he spotted another teen boy between him and the others staring at him.  The boy was not unlike himself, thin, dark haired, an angled face, full lips, and a faked sense of toughness. 

No, it was a look of apathy, a practiced disinterest.  Have no emotions so they can’t be hurt.  Have no interests so they can’t be mocked.  Live a secret, double life, one that he dreamed of one day being his true identity when he was out on his own, when he was independent and didn’t have to share the same space of his oppressors. 

The jock boys seemed to lose interest, even the boy like himself did as well, and so he looked out the window but always kept his attention focused in that direction.  Somehow he thought the worst they could do was throw a paper ball at him.  He sighed at the thought.

The car tops became a pattern of low then high like a wave.  The buildings were familiar landmarks.  People were faceless dots of color.  He knew his stop by the number of turns and the speed of the bus.  He knew his was coming up.  He looked around to see that not much had changed.  He would have liked it if the boys had gotten off first but as it was he knew he needed to act.

He pulled the signal cord, then got to his feet, and took hold of the backs of seats and polls as he moved to the back door.  The bus slowed so he readied himself to step off, sometimes not every bus driver pulled close enough to the curb.  He adjusted his backpack and his shirt rode up his side but he was quick to fix it.  Had they seen his diaper?  Had they seen part of his skin?  He couldn’t help but look for danger out of the corner of his eye.

The doors opened and he began to step away.

“Queer,” one of the boys said.

"Faggot," another coughed.

Walter continued to exit the bus.  He heard the doors close behind him and for a moment he thought it was over when he heard them rattle again he turned and stepped back only to find the boy like himself there. 

They bumped into each other and apologized.  Walter turned away to get his bearings but the young man moved with him, stopped at his side as if there was more to be said.

“Hey, listen I’m sorry about those guys on the bus,” the young man said.

“Do you know them?”

“They aren’t friends of mine but we go to the same high school.”

“Sorry about that,” Walter said.

“My name’s Chester,” the young man said.

“Walter,” he replied.

“Hey uh, listen, I’m doing a project for class where we’re supposed to interview people.  Could I ask you some questions?”

“Really?”

He looked to Chester who looked to the sidewalk embarrassed by his lie.

“Maybe I can buy you a cup of coffee,” Chester said.

“I don’t know,” Walter replied.

“Just five minutes,” Chester said.

Walter agreed.  They walked away from the bus stop and down the street to a coffee shop where they each got a cup of coffee that they carried to a table by the window.  They sat and looked at each other.

“Why are you like that?”

“Like what?”

“You know,” Devon said.

“Such a faggot,” Walter replied.

Devon blushed at the word, at the possibility that was the word he had been thinking.  He looked to his coffee.  His ears were red.  Walter regretted being so abrasive.  He wanted to correct it somehow.

“My mother always thought I should have been a girl.  She knew I used to play with her makeup and clothing.  I don’t know.  It wasn’t like I wanted to be a woman.  It was just different.  I remember that I didn’t really care about gender or masculinity.  I used to watch her putting on her makeup and it always interested me how she transformed with it.  I thought it was neat the way her lips looked."

“Can I ask you something?”

Walter raised his eyebrows in expectation.

“Does it hurt?”

Walter rolled his eyes.

“You shouldn’t worry about that.  It’s not about sexual acts.  It’s about love.”

Chester sat up, took a sip from his coffee.

“Shouldn’t you be recording this?”

Chester shook his head.

“There is no project is there?”

If his effeminate demeanor was a threat to those jock boys, then it was also a signal to others like himself.  It wasn’t some act or something fake.  It was some unconscious expression that mixed gender expectations.  He knew many people were annoyed, even offended by it, and yet he had no other choice but to be himself.

Ch. 28 Collisions

When an accident happens it’s a strange thing because it’s easy to take life’s mundane predictability for granted, Walter thought, but then something happens, you were on your way somewhere and wham, you get hit from behind.  That was what happened to Darrell who sat a few feet away from him nursing a soda and slowly eating a sandwich. 

Walter bit at the skin of his thumb as he thought about the phone call and the way they all went to the hospital for him, gathered around his bed, and promised to help him.  He had been silent then, even though he wanted to say something.  He wanted to promise but it just all felt like too much and the words got stuck in his throat.  It didn’t matter, he told himself, because actions are better than words.

Being a college student he had the most free time, somehow the responsibility had fallen to him, for some reason he volunteered for it.  Mostly it meant sitting around with him watching television, which was fine by Walter, especially since Darrell didn’t mind when he wore a diaper and a onesie, but dealing with the medication made him nervous, and helping him exercise was even worse.

He was happy Darrell could get to the toilet alone and take care of himself in the bathroom.  Walter hated the idea of having to do any of those things for him.  Cooking and cleaning, watching television, and keeping track of the medication was more than enough. 

Walter looked to the clock on the wall and sighed.  Darrell was due for an exercise period.  Luckily Walter had missed the one in the morning.  He debated on letting it go but then he thought about the consequences and forced himself to tell Darrell who begrudgingly agreed before trying to push himself up.  Walter moved to help him down to the floor and onto his back.  Walter moved to his feet that were bare and took hold of his ankles.  He looked down to see Darrell was in a pair of shorts instead of his usual sweat pants.

He worked one leg, then the other, in extended motions before pressing each up to Darrell’s chest and pulling it back out.  He worked it in all the ways Triston had showed him.  He pushed down on Darrell’s leg one last time to hold the knee to his chest before he pulled out and up to stretch it.  His shorts to fell down into his crotch revealing his briefs.  Walter’s face turned red and Darrell coughed.

“Sorry,” Darrell said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Walter replied.

“It’s not, I mean you, it’s just.”

“Don’t worry about it this doesn’t even feel remotely sexual,” Walter said.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Darrell said.  “It’s because it’s warm in here and I didn’t have anything else.”

Walter shrugged his shoulders.

“There’s times I’m in just a diaper,” he said.

“It’s different,” Darrell said.

“Well, trust me, I’m not getting anything out of this,” Walter said.

Darrell rolled his eyes and promised himself that next time he’d make sure to wear long pants.  Walter continued with the exercise until he had done everything he could remember to do, then he helped Darrell back up to his chair.  He helped Darrell get adjusted, made sure everything was how he liked it and asked him if he wanted some ice cream.  Darrell refused but Walter said he was going to get some for himself.

He went into the kitchen and made himself a banana split with hot fudge and caramel toppings, a sprinkle of nuts, and a cherry on top.  He was satisfied by the completion of his snack and was about to head back into the living room when there was a knock at the door.  Walter set down his dish and went to answer it.  He opened the door to find a delivery man in the hallway. 

At first he looked surprised, but then he smiled, amused somehow, and finally he cleared his throat and became more serious as he handed over the tablet that Walter took and signed.  He handed the tablet back and took the package, watched as the delivery man turned and walked away, shook his head.

Walter felt his stomach tighten.  That man would make him the butt of jokes.  He wouldn’t just be another faggot but one dressed like a child, an immature one at that.  He closed the door, set the package on the counter, and got his banana split.  He walked into the living room where Darrell sat with his head against his fist contemplating something.  It was probably a drink, Walter thought.

He took a deep breath and puffed up his chest.  That delivery man was just another stranger, his judgment was just his inability to deal with other people’s differences.  The diaper suddenly felt odd against his body and yet he wasn’t going to take it off or give it up.  This is who I am and life is short, he told himself.  He looked to Darrell, and we never know what is going to happen next.

Ch 23 - Mistakes

With his hands in the pockets of his hooded jacket Chad leaned back against the building with his head down and one foot against the wall.  He looked haggard and miserable as he stood there with a lollipop in his mouth. 

Spencer had spotted him from a distance and pulled to the curb.  Chad had sounded desperate on the phone and deeply saddened as if someone had died.  They looked to each other and Chad pushed away from the building and walked to Spencer’s car where he got in on the passenger side but didn’t speak even as he buckled his seat belt and Spencer pulled into traffic. 

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Spencer asked.

“Well, do you remember how I told you about that guy at work?”

“The one who called you fire crotch,” Spencer answered.

“Exactly, well, I punched him.  He had it coming.  He was on me, like literally, over my shoulder.  He was really getting to me and he knew it.  I shoved him away and he shoved back.  He wanted it.  I just hit him and he went down.  I don’t think he expected that, to go down so easily.  I think he’s going to sue the department.”

“Really?”

Chad nodded.

“I’ve been suspended and maybe I’ll be fired.  There’s a union and some of the guys are on my side as witnesses but it’s so frustrating.”

“Do you even want to go back?”

“What?  What are you saying?”

“I just, I mean, it seems like you didn’t really enjoy it, being a cop.  I mean your wife said the guys were kind of assholes and you didn’t get along with them and I mean I never heard you really talk about liking it.  You liked the idea of it but being a cop, dealing with your coworkers.”

“I’m too sober for this,” Chad said.

“Me too,” Spencer said.  “How about a night of drinking?  You call Lucy and I’ll call the guys.”

Minutes later they were back at the apartment building where Spencer parked in the guest area and they were headed up to the guys’ apartment.  Lucy was there in the hallway playing a game on her phone.

“I managed to find a sitter,” she said.  “I kind of had feeling, a hope, this might happen.”

Spencer walked to the door, unlocked it with his key, and opened it.  Inside he was surprised at the sight of Walter and Bobby in the kitchen.

Walter stood in his diaper at the kitchen counter.  Bobby was beside him in a matching one.  They were making vodka and orange juice screwdrivers.

Chad stepped into the apartment and looked to the young men who looked back over their shoulders and smiled.

“It’s a party thing,” Spencer said.

“Sorry I didn’t get the notice or I would have worn my onesie,” Chad said.

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“No, I don’t have a onesie.  I sleep naked.”

Spencer looked away to the padded, covered asses of the two young men, cleared his throat and coughed.

“We’re going out for a drink,” Spencer said.  “It’s kind of an emergency.  Chad might get fired from his job.”

“Who all is going?” Walter asked.

“Me, Darrell, Chad, Josh, and Lucy... uh, Triston is going to stay here and I guess Bobby is staying too.”

Walter shrugged his shoulders.

“Hey, look I’m sorry, really it’s an emergency thing, but, I got you a present,” Spencer said. 

He opened his satchel bag and pulled out a wrapped, small gift which he gave to Walter who immediately opened it to find a small, thin but ornate book.

“Leaves of Grass?” Walter asked.

“Walt Whitman,” Spencer said.  “Super gay, lots of writing about naked young men and vulnerability.”

“Thanks,” Walter said.

“No problem,” Spencer said. 

Walter added it to the pile of birthday cards he had received from each of the guys, his parents, and friends.  It wasn’t long before the four of them were leaving, taking with them for a moment all of the energy from the room.  Walter looked down to his drink, to Bobby, and then to Triston.

“Hey, we can still have fun,” Triston said.

“Yeah, no problem,” Walter said.  I should be used to this by now, he thought.

Hours later, Walter was on his stomach staring up at the television.  Beside him Bobby was on his back also trying to watch but clearly more intoxicated.  Triston sat in on the couch behind them focused on the screen as well.  They were all in a warm, dark comfort.  A now familiar jazz style theme song played from the speakers.

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into wearing this thing,” Bobby said. 

“I dared you,” Walter said.

“I mean it’s kind of like thick briefs.  They cover all of the same areas but it’s different.”

“You can take it off if you want,” Walter said.

“No, I’m okay,” Walter said.  “I’m drunk enough I might just pee in it.  It’ll make it easier.”

“Well, I’m not cleaning it up,” Triston said.

“I’ll help you,” Walter replied.

There was a commotion in the hallway, laughter and stumbling.  Darrell’s voice, then Chad, Spencer, Josh, and Lucy.  They got to the door and Triston let out a sigh as he searched for the remote control.  He found it just in time to pause the show before they burst through the doorway.  Darrell was the only sober one.  They turned on the lights further breaking the illusion, the common feeling.

Spencer, Josh, and Darrell went to the kitchen while Chad and Lucy made their way into the living room where she helped him to the couch then sat beside him, between him and Triston.  She looked to the two young men who stared back at her.  She saw their diapers and smiled.

“I want to have another child one of these days,” she said.

Ch 13 - DL Isn't Just for Down Low

“Before we get on the road I want to make sure I got the right air in my tires,” Walter said.

“It’s your car,” Darrell said. 

He was trying to keep his cool about any small thing because his car was in for repairs and he needed to visit his mother.  Walter had not only offered to drive him but help him to move her furniture as well.

Walter pulled off the highway and drove to the nearest gas station where he pulled to the air pump.  Darrell watched him for a moment as he shifted to park, turned off the car, retrieved the pressure gauge from the glove compartment, got out, and began to check the air in the tires.  He decided he would get snacks and got out as well.  He walked to where Walter was crouched.

He watched as Walter worked the gauge skillfully before he stepped closer to ask him if he wanted any snacks when he spotted the young man’s shirt was riding up his back, his jeans were open, and he took the opportunity to see his underwear when he spotted something he wouldn’t have expected.  He spotted the puffy, shiny band of a diaper.

Darrell was shocked by what he saw but also amused.  He had never heard about Walter having any bowel problems, no this was something else.  He wanted to laugh out loud, wanted to say something, make a comment, but he stopped himself.  He decided to ask what Walter wanted from the store instead.

“Nothing thanks,” Walter said.

Darrell turned and walked away to the store.  He made his way inside and to the back where he laughed to himself.  But as funny as it was he was having second thoughts about taking the young man to his mother’s home.  What if he did something weird?  What would she think of him?  How could he explain he knew Walter without being his friend or worse, his lover?

As much as he worried about being there with Walter he worried more about his mother being upset about him not visiting after he had to miss the previous weekends because of work and being hungover.  No, he had to go, but maybe he could make some rules with Walter or make a deal with him.

Darrell made his way to the clerk where he paid for his items, then back out into the sun and to where Walter leaned back against his car.  It wasn’t obvious from the look of his jeans that Walter was wearing anything but he knew, had seen them, and he couldn’t help but think about them.  He thought about the road trip and the woman who wore diapers so she wouldn’t have to stop while driving across country to kill someone.

Walter got inside the car and for a moment Darrell thought he heard the squish of the diaper.  He looked to the young man who looked back at him.

“What?” Walter asked.

Darrell took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to say anything.  I mean I don’t usually care what people do but we’re going to see my mother.”

Walter stared at him as Darrell gathered his courage.

“Are you wearing a diaper?”

Walter’s face turned red and he looked away. 

“Why are you wearing a diaper?”

Walter shrugged his shoulders.

“Why are you wearing a diaper today?”

“I like them.  Okay?” Walter said.
   
“I’m trying not to judge you.  Why today?  Why now?  You’re driving me to my mother’s to help me move furniture.”
   
“I don’t know.  I just felt nervous and they make me feel better.”
   
Darrell regretted the next thought that came to his mind but he figured he would be in the car with Walter for an hour each way, plus any time they spent together at the house moving furniture. 

“You’re not going to shit yourself are you?”

Darrell felt as shocked at his own question as he could tell Walter looked.  He wanted to take it back.  He wanted to excuse himself, apologize, and yet there was some reality to dealing with a situation.  Walter was young, impulsive and he didn’t know him very well.  Darrell felt worse when he saw Walter’s body get tense as if he were about to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Walter said.

“What?”

“I fucked up.  I’m sorry.  I just, I don’t know, got used to them.  I can take it off.”

Walter looked to Darrell and Darrell looked away, he suddenly felt worse.