Dear Reader, unfortunately or maybe fortunately I have gotten into writing a new novel that I feel I need to devote some attention to as I have been making significant progress. I'm going to take a three week break from posting Inside the Beltway so that I can devote myself to this other work without losing more focus on Inside the Beltway. Who knows maybe the break with let me get some fresh perspective. Best, Bryan
It’s over, Spencer told himself as he sat across the table from Aden. They were at an expensive restaurant. They hadn’t even ordered yet. It had started as a date. At least that was the intention. No, maybe it wasn’t, Spencer thought, maybe that’s what he told himself so that’s what he could tell Aden to get him there.
This is what it feels like. We’re both going through some motion. I don’t even know why he showed up. Aden looked up from his phone, smiled.
“What’s going on?” Aden asked.
“Nothing,” Spencer said.
“Sorry,” he said holding up his phone. “It’s my sister. This is my last message.”
There were so many things Spencer wanted to say. He wanted to demand his money back. He wanted to yell at him for all the missed phone calls and text messages. He wanted to yell at him for stringing him along. Was he just a Sugar Daddy?
He felt like he was about to tip over the edge and do something he’d regret so he got up and walked away. Aden looked up, watched him walk away. Spencer could feel him staring at him but he kept moving even though it felt like an elastic band was stretching between them. He spotted the waiter, moved to him, and stopped him.
“I’m sorry but I have to go,” he said. “I won’t be ordering anything.”
“No problem,” the waiter responded.
Spencer looked over his shoulder to see Aden getting up from the table. It looked like he was going to follow. Spencer continued out to the front of the restaurant where he spotted the valet and asked for his car.
“But you just arrived,” the man said.
“And now I’m leaving,” Spencer replied.
“Okay, just a minute,” the man said.
Spencer put his hands in his pockets and looked out to the busy city street. He wasn’t surprised but a little terrified when he heard the door open behind him.
“Where are you going?” Aden asked.
Spencer rolled his eyes. There was so much he wanted to say.
“Look, I put my phone away, come back inside. I promise I won’t use it anymore.”
Spencer turned on him. He saw the man’s handsome face, his broad shoulders, and he remembered that day at the beach. He thought about the night in bed, the next morning when he met Josh, and the sex they had. It was good but it wasn’t worth it.
“You were sitting there for ten minutes exchanging text messages with someone but I hardly ever hear from you,” Spencer said. “I’m the one who usually has to start it and even then I’m not sure if you’re going to respond.”
“Hey, I’m sorry but I get busy.”
“Even when you’re with me. When you’re with me you’re really somewhere else, with someone else. I’m curious but just how many guys are you dating?”
“I’m not,” Aden said.
Spencer rolled his eyes.
“Okay, I’m dating someone else too but it’s not like we’re committed. It’s not like we’re monogamous and I swear it wasn’t him. I was texting my sister.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer said.
“I thought you might try to pull this on me,” Aden replied.
“Why did you even come here tonight?” Spencer asked. "Was there any future together?"
“I don’t know. I thought you were pretty good in bed.”
“Didn’t want to pass up a free meal?”
“That’s low man. I don’t deserve that.”
“No? Then give me my forty bucks back?”
“What?”
“You don’t even remember,” Spencer said. “I loaned you money for a sweater. I thought you were going to pay me back.”
Aden contemplated what he said. It looked as if he were sorting through people who had given him gifts, the gifts he had been given, and if it had been implied that the person would be paid back.
“Just keep it,” Spencer said. He looked to the valet.
“Just one minute sir,” the man said.
“Can I get a ride home?” Aden asked.
Spencer shook his head. Of all things to ask.
“It’s over,” Spencer said.
“You’re a real asshole,” Aden said before walking past him and down the sidewalk.
“I’m the asshole?” Spencer yelled.
“Sir,” the valet said.
He looked to the man who stood embarrassed by the cursing yet trying to remain professional. Spencer apologized to him. It wasn’t long after that his car arrived. He tipped the valet, then drove away.
Usually he would have headed to the guys, sought comfort with them, but he wanted to go home instead. He moved on autopilot as he drove home, parked his car, locked it, and headed to the elevator of his building. He got to his front door, took out his keys, unlocked and opened it. He pushed open the door to see the glow of the television and hear a television show.
He didn’t recognize the voices but he knew the sound and the light meant Josh was home. Someone is home, he thought. That's a nice feeling.
He stepped inside and closed the door. It felt like he left Aden and his disappointment outside. In here he was someone else. He stepped to the living room. Josh was on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table.
“I’m eating lots of ice cream, then I’m going to bed and fall into a sugar coma,” Spencer said. “Should I bring one spoon or two?”
“That bad of a day? Why don’t you come in and talk about it?”
Spencer decided to forget about the ice cream for the moment and went into his living room where he sat next to Josh who muted the television.
“What’s going on?” Josh asked.
“I broke up with Aden,” Spencer answered.
“Sorry to hear that,” Josh said. “Are you going to be okay?”
Spencer snorted at the question. Someone was asking if he was going to be okay. He nodded and sat back on the couch.
“How about instead of ice cream we have a beer?” Josh asked. “We can zone out in front of the TV.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Spencer said.
Showing posts with label Drama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drama. Show all posts
Monday, July 14, 2014
Monday, June 23, 2014
Ch 36 - In the Army
The room fell quiet as Walter, Bobby, Spencer, Triston, Darrell, and Josh took their seats around Spencer’s dinner table with boxes of Thai food spread between them. There was more than enough for them to eat. Each began to look over the dishes, take some, and pass it.
“I think I’m going to have to break up with Aden,” Spencer said.
“What? He’s so cute,” Walter said.
“Cute maybe, but he’s not that smart.”
“But he looks good naked,” Josh added.
“You saw him naked? What was it like?” Bobby asked.
“Thin and a little to the left,” Josh said.
“When did you see him naked?” Darrell asked.
“He slept over, didn’t know I had a roommate and they kind of ran into each other in the morning,” Spencer said.
“I hope not,” Bobby replied.
“He seemed like a nice guy,” Josh said.
“Not really,” Spencer replied, “he borrowed forty dollars from me a week ago and he hasn’t said a thing to me about it since. I saw him in person, we talked on the phone, and we even sent text messages.”
“Why did you give him forty dollars?” Triston asked.
“We were out shopping and he saw this shirt he really liked.”
“That was a gift,” Bobby said. “Guys buy things for me all of the time.”
“Really?” Walter asked.
“Well, okay, sometimes, but still it’s a gift.”
“This wasn’t a gift. I specifically told him it was a loan.”
“Maybe he hasn’t gotten paid yet,” Darrell suggested.
“Whatever the case it’s kind of annoying. It’s only been a week but he’s had money for lots of other stuff. In fact he even told me two days later he bought new shoes.”
“Don’t let him take advantage of you,” Walter said. “You should have him pay for something and then it would be even.”
Spencer looked down to his plate of food and shook his head. He wasn’t the type to try and pull something like that. He’d confront him maybe, but con it out of him, no way.
“Well, you don’t want to be known as a Sugar Daddy. You’re too cute for that,” Bobby said.
“Thanks, I guess. Speaking of Sugar Daddy’s, we haven’t heard about Triston and Vincent in Las Vegas. How was it?”
“It was nice,” Triston said.
“Did you ever leave the room?” Walter asked.
“Yeah, we did. We even spent some time by the pool. I was all worried about going there as a couple and I definitely had my moments of insecurity but it was nice to travel with someone. We didn’t really hold hands or anything in public, though we went to a few gay spots in the Fruit Loop. It was nice to know that we’d go back to the room together though and we could just relax.”
“Was it crowded?”
“Not really, but it there were people around. There were lots of advertisements for female strip shows and private escorts, that type of thing.”
“How much did you lose?”
“I actually didn’t gamble that much. That was more Vincent, and he actually won some money, but it wasn’t much compared to how much we spent on liquor and food. We did meet a very nice gay boy though. It was kind of funny. Vincent was at the bar and this middle aged, middle America woman came up to me and asked to use his chair. I said it was for my boyfriend.”
Everyone oohed at his boldness.
“That’s when she drops this bomb on me that her son just came out. She just told me he was gay. It was like this casual conversation. She was kind of proud I think. I was stunned, but then when the son got there she introduced us.”
“Was he hot?”
“Very, but shy, at least in front of his parents. It was kind of cute. He’s in the army and he took his family to Vegas while he was on leave. He had this whole army boy thing going for him.”
“Did you have a three way?” Walter asked.
Everyone looked to him.
“I’m just asking what everyone is thinking.”
“No,” Triston said with a shake of his head. “We went out though. He got a little too drunk at the bar. He was kind of a light weight but we got him back. The whole time in the elevator I was praying for him not to throw up. Thankfully he had his own room though.”
“Man that would have been awkward.”
“I ran into him the next day at the lunch buffet they had. We talked a little bit and we promised to stay in touch with each other. He wants to come to D.C. when his contract is up. He says there’s more jobs here.”
“I think I’m going to have to break up with Aden,” Spencer said.
“What? He’s so cute,” Walter said.
“Cute maybe, but he’s not that smart.”
“But he looks good naked,” Josh added.
“You saw him naked? What was it like?” Bobby asked.
“Thin and a little to the left,” Josh said.
“When did you see him naked?” Darrell asked.
“He slept over, didn’t know I had a roommate and they kind of ran into each other in the morning,” Spencer said.
“I hope not,” Bobby replied.
“He seemed like a nice guy,” Josh said.
“Not really,” Spencer replied, “he borrowed forty dollars from me a week ago and he hasn’t said a thing to me about it since. I saw him in person, we talked on the phone, and we even sent text messages.”
“Why did you give him forty dollars?” Triston asked.
“We were out shopping and he saw this shirt he really liked.”
“That was a gift,” Bobby said. “Guys buy things for me all of the time.”
“Really?” Walter asked.
“Well, okay, sometimes, but still it’s a gift.”
“This wasn’t a gift. I specifically told him it was a loan.”
“Maybe he hasn’t gotten paid yet,” Darrell suggested.
“Whatever the case it’s kind of annoying. It’s only been a week but he’s had money for lots of other stuff. In fact he even told me two days later he bought new shoes.”
“Don’t let him take advantage of you,” Walter said. “You should have him pay for something and then it would be even.”
Spencer looked down to his plate of food and shook his head. He wasn’t the type to try and pull something like that. He’d confront him maybe, but con it out of him, no way.
“Well, you don’t want to be known as a Sugar Daddy. You’re too cute for that,” Bobby said.
“Thanks, I guess. Speaking of Sugar Daddy’s, we haven’t heard about Triston and Vincent in Las Vegas. How was it?”
“It was nice,” Triston said.
“Did you ever leave the room?” Walter asked.
“Yeah, we did. We even spent some time by the pool. I was all worried about going there as a couple and I definitely had my moments of insecurity but it was nice to travel with someone. We didn’t really hold hands or anything in public, though we went to a few gay spots in the Fruit Loop. It was nice to know that we’d go back to the room together though and we could just relax.”
“Was it crowded?”
“Not really, but it there were people around. There were lots of advertisements for female strip shows and private escorts, that type of thing.”
“How much did you lose?”
“I actually didn’t gamble that much. That was more Vincent, and he actually won some money, but it wasn’t much compared to how much we spent on liquor and food. We did meet a very nice gay boy though. It was kind of funny. Vincent was at the bar and this middle aged, middle America woman came up to me and asked to use his chair. I said it was for my boyfriend.”
Everyone oohed at his boldness.
“That’s when she drops this bomb on me that her son just came out. She just told me he was gay. It was like this casual conversation. She was kind of proud I think. I was stunned, but then when the son got there she introduced us.”
“Was he hot?”
“Very, but shy, at least in front of his parents. It was kind of cute. He’s in the army and he took his family to Vegas while he was on leave. He had this whole army boy thing going for him.”
“Did you have a three way?” Walter asked.
Everyone looked to him.
“I’m just asking what everyone is thinking.”
“No,” Triston said with a shake of his head. “We went out though. He got a little too drunk at the bar. He was kind of a light weight but we got him back. The whole time in the elevator I was praying for him not to throw up. Thankfully he had his own room though.”
“Man that would have been awkward.”
“I ran into him the next day at the lunch buffet they had. We talked a little bit and we promised to stay in touch with each other. He wants to come to D.C. when his contract is up. He says there’s more jobs here.”
Monday, May 26, 2014
Ch. 32 Vacations and Relationships
Sweating and shirtless, Triston and Josh sat next to each other in the shade of a park tree, their shorts hung loose from their thighs as they drank bottled water. There was the sound of birds, a jet passing overhead, and traffic on the road nearby.
“Thanks for jogging with me,” Josh said.
“Hey, no problem, it’s just I haven’t been out in a while.”
“You’re still in good shape,” Josh said.
Triston let out a laugh and wiped sweat from his forehead.
“Thanks I guess, it’s more about diet than exercise for me.”
“It would be easy to get some muscle tone,” Josh said.
“Settle yourself down, I just went jogging.”
“Okay, okay,” Josh said.
They both heard someone else running along the path and looked to the source. They were disappointed to see a young woman headed their way. She passed by them and they looked to each other.
“Don’t you wish that did it for you?” Josh asked.
“Not one second,” Triston said. “Do you?”
“I don’t know. I used to think about it. It’s just so much easier.”
Triston raised an eyebrow at his friend but didn’t say anything and decided to change the subject.
“How are things going?”
“Fine I guess,” Josh said. “I stopped talking to my ex. It just kind of got uncomfortable.”
“What about Spencer? How are things at the apartment?”
“Good, it’s okay. We don’t talk much. It’s not weird or anything. He kind of keeps his distance. It’s like we barely know each other. He’s a very private person. I’m thankful for being there and not having to pay him much in rent. I don’t know what I would do if things were different. He goes out with Chad a lot. I think he’s got a crush on a straight guy.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Triston said.
“I hooked up with this guy the other day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I decided to use an old dating account of mine. He was nice but very closeted, probably some politician or wants to be one.”
“Around this city it’s all politics,” Triston said.
“What about you and Vincent?”
“He wants to go on a vacation to Las Vegas,” Triston said. “I was thinking something more Tropical but he says there are really good deals. I think we’re going to go next month.”
“That’s pretty serious for not being together very long.”
Triston shrugged his shoulders. It was true and yet he felt because of their age, because of their experience, more importantly because of what they knew they wanted out of the relationship it wasn’t such a milestone.
“We’ll see what happens.”
“Are you guys that serious?”
Triston looked off into the trees and thought about Vincent and their relationship. They had a bond unlike any other. It was like an electrical force between them. He could feel it just by being in the same room.
“I really like him,” Triston said.
“I’m not sure if I want to be in a relationship. I mean there are benefits to it but it just seems so complicated. Although it’s been nice living with someone even if we’re not getting along. It’s like he’s there. There’s someone else in the apartment. There’s someone to talk to and watch television with but you don’t have to always be there for him.”
Triston was bothered by what he heard. He wanted Josh and Spencer to get into a relationship. He thought they would be good for each other, but maybe roommates was the best to hope for.
They heard another jogger on the track but this time it was a young man. He was shirtless and muscled, a necklace bounced around his neck. They both looked to him and as he passed he looked over to them. Josh got to his feet and began to stretch with his back to the runner.
“Is he too far gone yet?”
“No, he’s taking his time. He just came to a stop.”
“I’m going to see if he’s interested, maybe he needs a shower buddy to wash his back,” Josh said.
Triston watched his friend turn and jog away. He’d give Josh a few minutes to test the waters before he followed up behind him.
“Thanks for jogging with me,” Josh said.
“Hey, no problem, it’s just I haven’t been out in a while.”
“You’re still in good shape,” Josh said.
Triston let out a laugh and wiped sweat from his forehead.
“Thanks I guess, it’s more about diet than exercise for me.”
“It would be easy to get some muscle tone,” Josh said.
“Settle yourself down, I just went jogging.”
“Okay, okay,” Josh said.
They both heard someone else running along the path and looked to the source. They were disappointed to see a young woman headed their way. She passed by them and they looked to each other.
“Don’t you wish that did it for you?” Josh asked.
“Not one second,” Triston said. “Do you?”
“I don’t know. I used to think about it. It’s just so much easier.”
Triston raised an eyebrow at his friend but didn’t say anything and decided to change the subject.
“How are things going?”
“Fine I guess,” Josh said. “I stopped talking to my ex. It just kind of got uncomfortable.”
“What about Spencer? How are things at the apartment?”
“Good, it’s okay. We don’t talk much. It’s not weird or anything. He kind of keeps his distance. It’s like we barely know each other. He’s a very private person. I’m thankful for being there and not having to pay him much in rent. I don’t know what I would do if things were different. He goes out with Chad a lot. I think he’s got a crush on a straight guy.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Triston said.
“I hooked up with this guy the other day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I decided to use an old dating account of mine. He was nice but very closeted, probably some politician or wants to be one.”
“Around this city it’s all politics,” Triston said.
“What about you and Vincent?”
“He wants to go on a vacation to Las Vegas,” Triston said. “I was thinking something more Tropical but he says there are really good deals. I think we’re going to go next month.”
“That’s pretty serious for not being together very long.”
Triston shrugged his shoulders. It was true and yet he felt because of their age, because of their experience, more importantly because of what they knew they wanted out of the relationship it wasn’t such a milestone.
“We’ll see what happens.”
“Are you guys that serious?”
Triston looked off into the trees and thought about Vincent and their relationship. They had a bond unlike any other. It was like an electrical force between them. He could feel it just by being in the same room.
“I really like him,” Triston said.
“I’m not sure if I want to be in a relationship. I mean there are benefits to it but it just seems so complicated. Although it’s been nice living with someone even if we’re not getting along. It’s like he’s there. There’s someone else in the apartment. There’s someone to talk to and watch television with but you don’t have to always be there for him.”
Triston was bothered by what he heard. He wanted Josh and Spencer to get into a relationship. He thought they would be good for each other, but maybe roommates was the best to hope for.
They heard another jogger on the track but this time it was a young man. He was shirtless and muscled, a necklace bounced around his neck. They both looked to him and as he passed he looked over to them. Josh got to his feet and began to stretch with his back to the runner.
“Is he too far gone yet?”
“No, he’s taking his time. He just came to a stop.”
“I’m going to see if he’s interested, maybe he needs a shower buddy to wash his back,” Josh said.
Triston watched his friend turn and jog away. He’d give Josh a few minutes to test the waters before he followed up behind him.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Ch 31 Straight Advice
Horsepower doesn’t mean anything when stuck in traffic, Spencer thought as he looked at the lights of the car ahead of him. Chad was beside him in the passenger seat.
“Thanks for coming along to try out my new car,” Spencer said. “Sorry there’s so much traffic.”
“You didn’t make it,” Chad said.
“I know. It’s just frustrating.”
“It’d be nice to take it out West though and really get a chance to drive, or maybe down Florida where that highway is like 80 mph.”
“In my dreams, around here I’d be lucky to do anything more than 60 mph with all of the traffic cameras and cops. How’s the job working out for you?” Spencer asked.
“It’s actually kind of fun,” Chad said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, there’s actually a few straight guys who work there but everyone is nice. I’m actually going to some lake with a few of the guys next weekend.”
“Really,” Spencer said.
“Yeah, they invited me along. There’s going to be a cookout. Would you want to go with me? They said I could invite someone.”
“Don’t you think that would be a little, I don’t know, confusing for them.”
“They all know I’m straight. Although there was that one time, but it was just a little bit of tongue.”
“Now you’re just messing with me.”
“Of course I am. Yes, they all know I’m straight but we get along. It’s kind of like being in college or something. Some of the guys can be a little dramatic but there’s no bullshit, you know. I mean on the force it was like all this macho crap. I mean some of those guys I wouldn’t want around my daughter and they have kids of their own but the guys at the bar are nice.”
Spencer let off the brake and drifted for a bit before stopping the car again.
“And there’s someone you should meet.”
“Is he one of those drama people?”
“No, not really, he’s kind of low key. He works the bar. I think he’s kind of shy. It’s rare that he takes his shirt off. He’s got a nice body though.”
“Checking out your workmates? Something I should know?”
“What? I’m allowed to evaluate. He’s handsome, blonde hair and blue eyes.”
“Is he crazy? Because my last boyfriend was crazy. He threatened to post our sex tape on the internet, luckily he backed off. I think he was worried about his grandmother finding out.”
“Sex tape?”
“Don’t ask,” Spencer said.
“I have to ask. Why would you?”
“It was an impulsive thing, supposed to stay private.”
“Did you ever watch it?”
“You know, actually, we didn’t. It always felt more like some secret thing.”
“How about it? I’d introduce the two of you.”
“What? The guy, I guess, I mean nothing is happening in my love life,” Spencer said.
“Did you talk to your roommate?”
“Josh? I haven’t yet. It’s kind of, I don’t know, fizzled. Sometimes Triston tells me what’s going on with him, said he’s not going back to his ex any time soon but that’s it.”
“You should do it,” Chad said.
“I don’t know. I mean it’s weird but it actually seems more difficult than coming out. It kind of feels the same. I mean it’s like this secret that if I say it I leave myself vulnerable to him. I don’t like that feeling.”
“How did you feel after you came out?”
Spencer looked to him. Coming out had been relatively easy given all of the horror stories he had heard. He told his parents one evening and they just kind of accepted it. No, not accepted, but they didn’t fight it. There was no yelling, just silence, and they didn’t really talk about it again, not in any real way. He felt silly for having thought it would be some drastic, life changing event. And yet, really, he did feel different, because he decided he didn’t need their approval.
“I felt lighter,” Spencer said.
“See, it wasn’t easy. How did feel before?”
“Like I wanted to sink into the ground.”
“I’m not saying you’re going to be best friends, or boyfriends, but you owe him a real apology. You need to tell him where you were coming from, and you need to stop thinking of him as a sex object.”
Spencer blushed at the last sentence. He gripped the wheel tighter. He was getting advice from his straight friend about another guy. He let out a small laugh and shook his head. Times really have changed, he thought.
“What is it?” Chad asked.
“I just never thought I’d be sitting here listening to a straight man give me advice about dating another guy, much less inviting me to some cookout to meet someone.”
“Just don’t try and kiss me. I’m married. It’s a monogamous relationship,” Chad said.
Spencer looked to him, his eyes went wide but Chad only smiled back.
“Thanks for coming along to try out my new car,” Spencer said. “Sorry there’s so much traffic.”
“You didn’t make it,” Chad said.
“I know. It’s just frustrating.”
“It’d be nice to take it out West though and really get a chance to drive, or maybe down Florida where that highway is like 80 mph.”
“In my dreams, around here I’d be lucky to do anything more than 60 mph with all of the traffic cameras and cops. How’s the job working out for you?” Spencer asked.
“It’s actually kind of fun,” Chad said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, there’s actually a few straight guys who work there but everyone is nice. I’m actually going to some lake with a few of the guys next weekend.”
“Really,” Spencer said.
“Yeah, they invited me along. There’s going to be a cookout. Would you want to go with me? They said I could invite someone.”
“Don’t you think that would be a little, I don’t know, confusing for them.”
“They all know I’m straight. Although there was that one time, but it was just a little bit of tongue.”
“Now you’re just messing with me.”
“Of course I am. Yes, they all know I’m straight but we get along. It’s kind of like being in college or something. Some of the guys can be a little dramatic but there’s no bullshit, you know. I mean on the force it was like all this macho crap. I mean some of those guys I wouldn’t want around my daughter and they have kids of their own but the guys at the bar are nice.”
Spencer let off the brake and drifted for a bit before stopping the car again.
“And there’s someone you should meet.”
“Is he one of those drama people?”
“No, not really, he’s kind of low key. He works the bar. I think he’s kind of shy. It’s rare that he takes his shirt off. He’s got a nice body though.”
“Checking out your workmates? Something I should know?”
“What? I’m allowed to evaluate. He’s handsome, blonde hair and blue eyes.”
“Is he crazy? Because my last boyfriend was crazy. He threatened to post our sex tape on the internet, luckily he backed off. I think he was worried about his grandmother finding out.”
“Sex tape?”
“Don’t ask,” Spencer said.
“I have to ask. Why would you?”
“It was an impulsive thing, supposed to stay private.”
“Did you ever watch it?”
“You know, actually, we didn’t. It always felt more like some secret thing.”
“How about it? I’d introduce the two of you.”
“What? The guy, I guess, I mean nothing is happening in my love life,” Spencer said.
“Did you talk to your roommate?”
“Josh? I haven’t yet. It’s kind of, I don’t know, fizzled. Sometimes Triston tells me what’s going on with him, said he’s not going back to his ex any time soon but that’s it.”
“You should do it,” Chad said.
“I don’t know. I mean it’s weird but it actually seems more difficult than coming out. It kind of feels the same. I mean it’s like this secret that if I say it I leave myself vulnerable to him. I don’t like that feeling.”
“How did you feel after you came out?”
Spencer looked to him. Coming out had been relatively easy given all of the horror stories he had heard. He told his parents one evening and they just kind of accepted it. No, not accepted, but they didn’t fight it. There was no yelling, just silence, and they didn’t really talk about it again, not in any real way. He felt silly for having thought it would be some drastic, life changing event. And yet, really, he did feel different, because he decided he didn’t need their approval.
“I felt lighter,” Spencer said.
“See, it wasn’t easy. How did feel before?”
“Like I wanted to sink into the ground.”
“I’m not saying you’re going to be best friends, or boyfriends, but you owe him a real apology. You need to tell him where you were coming from, and you need to stop thinking of him as a sex object.”
Spencer blushed at the last sentence. He gripped the wheel tighter. He was getting advice from his straight friend about another guy. He let out a small laugh and shook his head. Times really have changed, he thought.
“What is it?” Chad asked.
“I just never thought I’d be sitting here listening to a straight man give me advice about dating another guy, much less inviting me to some cookout to meet someone.”
“Just don’t try and kiss me. I’m married. It’s a monogamous relationship,” Chad said.
Spencer looked to him, his eyes went wide but Chad only smiled back.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Ch 27 Wet Underwear
The Unicorn was crowded. Everyone was there for the wet underwear contest. Sitting at a table in the front of the audience was Spencer, Triston, Vincent, and Josh. Vincent and Triston sat next to each other with their fingers intertwined, across from them was Spencer and Josh a foot apart. Spencer had his arms crossed. Josh looked away in boredom.
“I can’t believe they’re going to do it. Doesn’t this feel wrong?” Spencer asked.
“It’s just a contest,” Triston replied. He turned to the table. “Besides, Bobby is a dancer here. It’s no big deal for him.”
“It still feels wrong. I mean I avoid the place when I know he’s working.”
“You’ve seen him naked plenty of times,” Triston said.
“Yeah but this different,” Spencer replied.
His concern, their conversation, got the attention of Vincent and Josh who both leaned in to the table.
“Think of it like a dance contest.”
“This isn’t the ballet. Walter and Bobby are going to be grinding on each other.”
“What are they doing?” Vincent asked.
“Yeah, what are they doing?” Josh asked.
“It’s a dance routine. It’s from these two movies from the Philippines, Macho Dancer and um... what’s the other one?”
“Midnight Dancers,” Spencer said.
“I’ve never seen them,” Vincent said.
Josh shook his head.
“These Philippine guys dance with each other, some of them are supposed to be straight, but they have this whole routine where they use water and soap and pour it on each other as they stand in this tub. Usually they wear white briefs but sometimes they’re naked.”
“White briefs?” Josh asked. “Give me a pair of Andrew Christian, that would be hot.”
“Andrew Christian is the black panties of gay men. You only wear them when you want to get laid.”
“No way, they’re an everyday thing. Why wouldn’t you want to feel sexy?”
“I don’t know if I could focus on anything,” Vincent said.
“My everyday wear has to be more ordinary,” Spencer said.
Triston was about to add his opinion when he saw Darrell stepping to their table still dressed in his work clothes. He watched as the man sat heavily in his chair and leaned onto the table and decided to try and distract him.
“We need you to settle an argument. Spencer here is saying that Andrew Christian underwear is the black panties of gay men's fashion whereas Josh believes they can be an everyday item.”
“Not everyday,” Darrell replied. “They’re too form fitting for that.”
“See, that’s what I was thinking,” Vincent replied.
“I wouldn’t want to think about working at my office wearing them,” Spencer said.
“Okay, if Andrew Christian is the black panties then white briefs are definitely the grannie panty. They have form, they have function, and they have utility,” Josh said.
“You just think that because your generation is obsessed with boxers which are the most nonsexual of all undergarments. They’re flat, generally shapeless, and most common thing for actors on TV who don’t want to show a little.”
“Okay, the jock is definitely a Friday night kind of wear but the regular ones... white briefs are cheap and only to be worn under clothes, not to be seen in the light of day.”
The rest of the group looked to Josh who raised his eyebrows as he sipped from his beer. They laughed and turned away, looked up to the stage. Some of the tension between them was broken and when the host, a tall drag queen in a blue sparkled dress, stepped onto the stage they were focused on something else.
“All right everyone, welcome to the Unicorn’s fifth annual wet underwear contest, now just remember no cameras, security will be standing by to help anyone who uses one. They’ll show you how to use the delete button and then kick your ass to the curb.”
The crowd booed.
“It’s not my policy. It’s just some of the amateur dancers are a little shy and don’t want their faces out there while showing their goods. But I’d show you everything and we can take all the pictures you want, just see me after the show.”
The crowd laughed.
One by one the host introduced each of the contestants who stepped on stage in a pair of briefs, different brands and different colors except Walter and Bobby who stood in identical white Calvin Klein briefs. Their bodies were very different. Bobby was muscled and Walter was skinny, though slightly athletic.
The host moved them through the paces, eventually each pair danced together until it got to Bobby and Walter who carried out a metal tub and several pitchers of water. The dance music started to play and they moved to each other still nervous to be seen, to touch each other, especially in front of a crowd, but they were committed.
They became comfortable with each other as they danced chest to chest, grabbed hold of each other. They had practiced wearing exercise clothes. Bobby turned Walter and moved him the tub where they stepped inside. Bobby picked up the pitcher of water and began to slowly pour it over Walter’s chest. The crowd cheered. Spencer whistled.
They were grinding on each other for a long moment before they switched places. Bobby was almost completely dry. Walter poured the water along his chest and shoulders causing it to highlight the definition of his muscles. The crowd went wild. Walter scooped up more and poured it over Bobby’s chest, down his abs, and over his briefs that once wet clung to the young man’s form and became translucent.
Bobby turned and they nuzzled with each other as they continued to dance. Spencer, Triston, Vincent, and Josh were on their feet with the rest of the crowd who cheered and yelled, whistled and screamed.
Spencer moved to Josh and whispered in his ear, “What do you think now? Still think they shouldn’t be seen in the light of day?”
“I can’t believe they’re going to do it. Doesn’t this feel wrong?” Spencer asked.
“It’s just a contest,” Triston replied. He turned to the table. “Besides, Bobby is a dancer here. It’s no big deal for him.”
“It still feels wrong. I mean I avoid the place when I know he’s working.”
“You’ve seen him naked plenty of times,” Triston said.
“Yeah but this different,” Spencer replied.
His concern, their conversation, got the attention of Vincent and Josh who both leaned in to the table.
“Think of it like a dance contest.”
“This isn’t the ballet. Walter and Bobby are going to be grinding on each other.”
“What are they doing?” Vincent asked.
“Yeah, what are they doing?” Josh asked.
“It’s a dance routine. It’s from these two movies from the Philippines, Macho Dancer and um... what’s the other one?”
“Midnight Dancers,” Spencer said.
“I’ve never seen them,” Vincent said.
Josh shook his head.
“These Philippine guys dance with each other, some of them are supposed to be straight, but they have this whole routine where they use water and soap and pour it on each other as they stand in this tub. Usually they wear white briefs but sometimes they’re naked.”
“White briefs?” Josh asked. “Give me a pair of Andrew Christian, that would be hot.”
“Andrew Christian is the black panties of gay men. You only wear them when you want to get laid.”
“No way, they’re an everyday thing. Why wouldn’t you want to feel sexy?”
“I don’t know if I could focus on anything,” Vincent said.
“My everyday wear has to be more ordinary,” Spencer said.
Triston was about to add his opinion when he saw Darrell stepping to their table still dressed in his work clothes. He watched as the man sat heavily in his chair and leaned onto the table and decided to try and distract him.
“We need you to settle an argument. Spencer here is saying that Andrew Christian underwear is the black panties of gay men's fashion whereas Josh believes they can be an everyday item.”
“Not everyday,” Darrell replied. “They’re too form fitting for that.”
“See, that’s what I was thinking,” Vincent replied.
“I wouldn’t want to think about working at my office wearing them,” Spencer said.
“Okay, if Andrew Christian is the black panties then white briefs are definitely the grannie panty. They have form, they have function, and they have utility,” Josh said.
“You just think that because your generation is obsessed with boxers which are the most nonsexual of all undergarments. They’re flat, generally shapeless, and most common thing for actors on TV who don’t want to show a little.”
“Okay, the jock is definitely a Friday night kind of wear but the regular ones... white briefs are cheap and only to be worn under clothes, not to be seen in the light of day.”
The rest of the group looked to Josh who raised his eyebrows as he sipped from his beer. They laughed and turned away, looked up to the stage. Some of the tension between them was broken and when the host, a tall drag queen in a blue sparkled dress, stepped onto the stage they were focused on something else.
“All right everyone, welcome to the Unicorn’s fifth annual wet underwear contest, now just remember no cameras, security will be standing by to help anyone who uses one. They’ll show you how to use the delete button and then kick your ass to the curb.”
The crowd booed.
“It’s not my policy. It’s just some of the amateur dancers are a little shy and don’t want their faces out there while showing their goods. But I’d show you everything and we can take all the pictures you want, just see me after the show.”
The crowd laughed.
One by one the host introduced each of the contestants who stepped on stage in a pair of briefs, different brands and different colors except Walter and Bobby who stood in identical white Calvin Klein briefs. Their bodies were very different. Bobby was muscled and Walter was skinny, though slightly athletic.
The host moved them through the paces, eventually each pair danced together until it got to Bobby and Walter who carried out a metal tub and several pitchers of water. The dance music started to play and they moved to each other still nervous to be seen, to touch each other, especially in front of a crowd, but they were committed.
They became comfortable with each other as they danced chest to chest, grabbed hold of each other. They had practiced wearing exercise clothes. Bobby turned Walter and moved him the tub where they stepped inside. Bobby picked up the pitcher of water and began to slowly pour it over Walter’s chest. The crowd cheered. Spencer whistled.
They were grinding on each other for a long moment before they switched places. Bobby was almost completely dry. Walter poured the water along his chest and shoulders causing it to highlight the definition of his muscles. The crowd went wild. Walter scooped up more and poured it over Bobby’s chest, down his abs, and over his briefs that once wet clung to the young man’s form and became translucent.
Bobby turned and they nuzzled with each other as they continued to dance. Spencer, Triston, Vincent, and Josh were on their feet with the rest of the crowd who cheered and yelled, whistled and screamed.
Spencer moved to Josh and whispered in his ear, “What do you think now? Still think they shouldn’t be seen in the light of day?”
Monday, April 14, 2014
Ch 26 Tattoos and Scars
Triston sat at the sales counter for his job quietly staring into a cup of coffee as he thought about his two friends Spencer and Josh. They had each related to him their accounts for their argument at different times.
Spencer:
“Look I know what I did was wrong and I apologized for it but I’m just so tired of guys like him thinking I’m not their type. It’s the classic thing right? Nice guys finish last. Well, I’m a nice guy, most of the time, and it’s not fair. I mean I did all of that for him. I let him move into my apartment. You know how much I hate sharing an apartment with someone and then I take him to the group session and practically hold his hand to get him there and I was there for him afterwards. I’m not saying I deserve something like sex or a relationship but it wasn’t easy. And I thought we had this connection. I thought, you know, we were getting close.”
Josh:
“Look he took me in and everything and I’m used to having arguments with people, he just kind of surprised me by professing his love one moment and then snapping on me the next whenever I start talking about my ex. What kind of person does that? I love you and now I hate you. He apologized and I told him I forgave him but I don’t know. I didn’t think he’d use it against me like that. He said some really mean things.”
He picked up his coffee and took a sip before putting it down and walking away from the counter and through the store looking for something to do, but the floors were clean, everything was arranged properly. He made his way to the back room where Cheryl sat at her desk writing out her presentation. He leaned against the doorway.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
“I don’t know why I keep thinking about it,” Triston said.
“Do you want to be any more vague?”
“My two friends, you know Spencer and this new guys Josh. One fell for the other but it’s not reciprocal and now it’s become a problem. Why do people have to be so worried about long term commitment or the perfect relationship?
“Look, I’m not saying they use each other but what’s wrong with them each getting something out of it? I mean what if they only date for a few months, maybe year, and they both become better people for having known each other but then they separate and go their own way.”
She stared at him for a moment as she organized her thoughts. Her silence made him uncomfortable.
“Life doesn’t work that way honey. Each relationship is like having a tattoo or a scar, some are beautiful and some you regret.”
Spencer:
“Look I know what I did was wrong and I apologized for it but I’m just so tired of guys like him thinking I’m not their type. It’s the classic thing right? Nice guys finish last. Well, I’m a nice guy, most of the time, and it’s not fair. I mean I did all of that for him. I let him move into my apartment. You know how much I hate sharing an apartment with someone and then I take him to the group session and practically hold his hand to get him there and I was there for him afterwards. I’m not saying I deserve something like sex or a relationship but it wasn’t easy. And I thought we had this connection. I thought, you know, we were getting close.”
Josh:
“Look he took me in and everything and I’m used to having arguments with people, he just kind of surprised me by professing his love one moment and then snapping on me the next whenever I start talking about my ex. What kind of person does that? I love you and now I hate you. He apologized and I told him I forgave him but I don’t know. I didn’t think he’d use it against me like that. He said some really mean things.”
He picked up his coffee and took a sip before putting it down and walking away from the counter and through the store looking for something to do, but the floors were clean, everything was arranged properly. He made his way to the back room where Cheryl sat at her desk writing out her presentation. He leaned against the doorway.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
“I don’t know why I keep thinking about it,” Triston said.
“Do you want to be any more vague?”
“My two friends, you know Spencer and this new guys Josh. One fell for the other but it’s not reciprocal and now it’s become a problem. Why do people have to be so worried about long term commitment or the perfect relationship?
“Look, I’m not saying they use each other but what’s wrong with them each getting something out of it? I mean what if they only date for a few months, maybe year, and they both become better people for having known each other but then they separate and go their own way.”
She stared at him for a moment as she organized her thoughts. Her silence made him uncomfortable.
“Life doesn’t work that way honey. Each relationship is like having a tattoo or a scar, some are beautiful and some you regret.”
Monday, March 31, 2014
Ch 24 - Reversed Polarity
Spencer stood with the freezer door open dressed in his workout clothes after following a yoga video in the living room. He had been in the cool down period when Josh came home. Josh was at the counter opening a take out container.
“Oh my god that smells so good,” Spencer said.
“Want some?”
“Oh you temptress, I really want to but I can’t. Friday is my cheat day. I have to lose a few pounds.”
“You look great,” Josh said.
“I look a mess,” Spencer said.
Josh turned to him, crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. There was something on his mind. Spencer took out a fruit juice bar and closed the door. He partially unwrapped the bar and began to suck on the end.
“I uh, talked to Paul today,” Josh said.
“What did that asshole want?” Spencer asked.
He suddenly regretted his word usage. Asshole was something he had been thinking in his head for a long time but never actually verbalized. Now that he said it the word felt appropriate for Paul and yet he didn’t know how Josh would react.
“He’s different,” Josh said. “He’s taking anger management classes and going to A.A. He’s even talking about seeing a couple’s therapist.”
“Couple, like the two of you?”
“What?”
“It’s just, I thought it was over,” Spencer replied.
Josh picked up his food and walked out of the kitchen to the living room where he sat on the couch. Spencer followed him despite his fear of dripping the juice bar on the carpet or worse the couch. He sat next to Josh and looked to the food, watched Josh put some in his mouth and begin to chew.
“It is over right?” Spencer asked.
“It is, well mostly, I mean when it was good it was really good. There were things in his life that I didn’t know about and work was too stressful, but all of that is changing.”
Spencer couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“What?” Josh asked.
“You sound like an after school special. You sound like a Lifetime movie. And this where I’m supposed to try and talk you out of it. This is where I beg and plead and I tell you how great you are, then you go and do something stupid, maybe it ends up okay but most likely it doesn’t, and I might be the one who helps you again or I might be the one who identifies your corpse.”
The last word stung both of them after he said it and he paused. He waited to catch his breath, steady his breathing, and re-frame his thoughts before he said something else, something more cruel. There were so many things he wanted to say.
“I want you to be happy. I want you to get what you want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want something else out of this.”
“You don’t even need a roommate,” Josh said.
Spencer was stunned by the true but inaccurate thought. Could he not see? Did he not feel the same? Would he ever feel the same? He had to say something. It could all be over tomorrow like so many things. He knew there was more regret in not speaking or acting than doing it.
“It’s not that. I’m afraid for you on a human level but also as a friend, because I care about you, and it scares me to say this but I want you to stay in my life. I want you to be part of my life.”
“As friends?”
Spencer reached across the couch to where Josh’s hand lay on his knee and took it. He grasped his fingers, pulled at them until he could hold his entire hand. Josh began to pull away but Spencer held him for a moment before letting go.
“I’m not ready for this,” Josh said.
“But you’d go back to him?”
“It’s different,” Josh said. “We had something. It wasn’t always like that. We complimented each other.”
“But then what? He started hitting you and humiliating you? He belittled you. You feared him.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is easy,” Spencer said. “What’s the real reason? Are you afraid it might not work out between us?”
“Yes,” Josh said. “We’ve never really. I mean you’re cute but--”
“--I’m not your type,” Spencer said. “You like them dangerous.”
Josh dropped his fork in his food and stood. He looked down to Spencer. There was anger in his eyes and something else. He walked the long way around the coffee table to his bedroom but wasn’t in there long before he got his coat and left the apartment with a slam of the door.
Spencer reclined against the couch. He felt a pain in his stomach. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to yell.
Did he want someone who didn’t want him back? He was cute but? Did he just force Josh back into Paul’s clutches? What did he do? He wanted to call Josh or maybe chase after him but there was something else in his eyes besides anger.
He thought about it for a moment before he realized he could verbalize the feeling.
“I’m scared too,” Spencer said.
“Oh my god that smells so good,” Spencer said.
“Want some?”
“Oh you temptress, I really want to but I can’t. Friday is my cheat day. I have to lose a few pounds.”
“You look great,” Josh said.
“I look a mess,” Spencer said.
Josh turned to him, crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. There was something on his mind. Spencer took out a fruit juice bar and closed the door. He partially unwrapped the bar and began to suck on the end.
“I uh, talked to Paul today,” Josh said.
“What did that asshole want?” Spencer asked.
He suddenly regretted his word usage. Asshole was something he had been thinking in his head for a long time but never actually verbalized. Now that he said it the word felt appropriate for Paul and yet he didn’t know how Josh would react.
“He’s different,” Josh said. “He’s taking anger management classes and going to A.A. He’s even talking about seeing a couple’s therapist.”
“Couple, like the two of you?”
“What?”
“It’s just, I thought it was over,” Spencer replied.
Josh picked up his food and walked out of the kitchen to the living room where he sat on the couch. Spencer followed him despite his fear of dripping the juice bar on the carpet or worse the couch. He sat next to Josh and looked to the food, watched Josh put some in his mouth and begin to chew.
“It is over right?” Spencer asked.
“It is, well mostly, I mean when it was good it was really good. There were things in his life that I didn’t know about and work was too stressful, but all of that is changing.”
Spencer couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“What?” Josh asked.
“You sound like an after school special. You sound like a Lifetime movie. And this where I’m supposed to try and talk you out of it. This is where I beg and plead and I tell you how great you are, then you go and do something stupid, maybe it ends up okay but most likely it doesn’t, and I might be the one who helps you again or I might be the one who identifies your corpse.”
The last word stung both of them after he said it and he paused. He waited to catch his breath, steady his breathing, and re-frame his thoughts before he said something else, something more cruel. There were so many things he wanted to say.
“I want you to be happy. I want you to get what you want and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want something else out of this.”
“You don’t even need a roommate,” Josh said.
Spencer was stunned by the true but inaccurate thought. Could he not see? Did he not feel the same? Would he ever feel the same? He had to say something. It could all be over tomorrow like so many things. He knew there was more regret in not speaking or acting than doing it.
“It’s not that. I’m afraid for you on a human level but also as a friend, because I care about you, and it scares me to say this but I want you to stay in my life. I want you to be part of my life.”
“As friends?”
Spencer reached across the couch to where Josh’s hand lay on his knee and took it. He grasped his fingers, pulled at them until he could hold his entire hand. Josh began to pull away but Spencer held him for a moment before letting go.
“I’m not ready for this,” Josh said.
“But you’d go back to him?”
“It’s different,” Josh said. “We had something. It wasn’t always like that. We complimented each other.”
“But then what? He started hitting you and humiliating you? He belittled you. You feared him.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is easy,” Spencer said. “What’s the real reason? Are you afraid it might not work out between us?”
“Yes,” Josh said. “We’ve never really. I mean you’re cute but--”
“--I’m not your type,” Spencer said. “You like them dangerous.”
Josh dropped his fork in his food and stood. He looked down to Spencer. There was anger in his eyes and something else. He walked the long way around the coffee table to his bedroom but wasn’t in there long before he got his coat and left the apartment with a slam of the door.
Spencer reclined against the couch. He felt a pain in his stomach. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to yell.
Did he want someone who didn’t want him back? He was cute but? Did he just force Josh back into Paul’s clutches? What did he do? He wanted to call Josh or maybe chase after him but there was something else in his eyes besides anger.
He thought about it for a moment before he realized he could verbalize the feeling.
“I’m scared too,” Spencer said.
Monday, March 24, 2014
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.
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.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Ch 20 - Helping Josh Move
All six of them stood in the small lobby area of Josh’s former apartment building holding flattened moving boxes. The place was clean and maintained but in a haphazard kind of way. Old fixtures, hinges, and doors had been moved, removed, and replaced. Josh checked his mailbox for any last mail that might have been sent to the address after he submitted the change of address form, there was always something. He put Paul’s mail back in the box and locked it.
“I’m not sure we need this many people. I don’t have that much,” Josh said.
“You’re my roommate now,” Spencer said.
“I said I’d help when you told me you had to move out,” Triston replied.
“And see I know that Spencer doesn’t lift anything heavier than his cell phone at the gym,” Darrell said.
“I was told we were going drinking,” Bobby said.
There was a pause.
“I didn’t have anything better to do.”
They looked to Walter.
“What?”
Josh coughed and stepped between the men to the stairs where he led them up three flights and down a hallway.
“See this is why we brought extra people,” Darrell said to Bobby who walked beside him running a finger along the wall.
Walter was the last. He walked with one hand in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt wary of getting too close to the banister that seemed too short, to bent to be of any good to a person.
Josh opened his apartment door slowly to be greeted by the wet nose of Paul’s dog but he knew the dog was friendly and ushered the guys inside to the living room where they stopped just a few inches away from each other.
Right there in the kitchen was Paul. He was leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, an intense and serious look on his face. On the counter was a partially made sandwich with carrot and celery sticks on the side, an open beer beside the plate.
“Hello,” Paul said.
The men muttered a response but only Darrell and Triston looked to him directly. Bobby found himself trying to politely ward the dog away from his crotch. And Spencer tried to stop himself from grinding his teeth and making a fist with his hand.
“Hi Paul,” Josh said.
They looked across the space to each other but neither of them moved. Finally Josh broke the stare and the silence.
“I don’t have much in the living room, my game system, all the games, and controllers. I don’t have anything in the kitchen but I should take you into my room. It’s where I kept all my stuff from my first apartment.”
He led them down the hall to his bedroom door. He opened it to a stale, cold feeling of a room that had not been used in weeks. They peeked inside to see they had plenty of work to do. There was a bed on it’s side with a frame nearby, bookshelves full of movies, books, and CD’s, exercise equipment and a collection of small weights, poster tubes, a tall black dresser, and a small collection of dry cleaned shirts in the closet.
“If you guys want to start on this,” Josh said.
“I’ll get the video game stuff,” Walter said.
“I’ll help him,” Bobby said.
“And I need to get a few things from Paul’s room,” Josh said.
He stepped away from them to the other door and opened it. There was a familiar sound and the smell of vanilla incense. He looked to the empty and made bed with tight corners and no lines. He thought of the times they spent watching television and cuddling in the early morning before work. He thought about his first morning there and how they felt like adventurers when they raided the refrigerator and had a picnic on the bed.
“Are you okay?” Triston asked.
Josh looked to him and winced. Triston looked back down the hall, worried that Paul would try to join them, maybe ingratiate himself somehow, or worse start complaining about possession and moving out.
“Need a hug?”
They hugged each other.
In Josh’s former bedroom Darrell worked like a machine to load the DVD’s and books into separate boxes. He had moved many times in his life and felt that there was a way to do it so nothing got broken.
Spencer had assembled two boxes and opened a dresser drawer to find a collection of underwear. He looked them over. There was nothing racy but many of them were old, mostly briefs, a few boxers, straps of a jock. He felt himself redden just at the sight of them. He looked to Darrell who was occupied and back inside the drawer. The waistband on the underwear was small, smaller than his own and he had always been proud of his 34 inch waist. He shook all thought away, cleared his throat and shoveled them one handful at a time into the box before he moved on to the next drawer.
It wasn’t long before Darrell and Spencer had stacked boxes, Bobby and Walter had collected all the video game items in boxes by the door, and Josh emptied his few drawers in Paul’s room, took down his necklace from the mirror, and double checked the bathroom. They moved the mattress first.
After they had finished in the living room Paul went in there with his dog to sit and eat. He was methodical and they were quick.
Finally the last of the boxes were being carried downstairs. Josh and Triston stood by the front door of the apartment mentally double checking everything. Triston knew that normally in situations like this the most commonly forgotten things were identification documents but they had already talked it over and Josh’s documents were safely locked in a safety deposit box at a bank.
“Well,” Josh said.
“Well,” Triston replied.
Josh stepped to the archway and looked into the living room. He wanted to pet the dog. He wanted to hug and kiss Paul but he knew it was over. It felt as if the weeks apart had allowed him to form a thin shell around his skin that could break if they touched.
“I’m leaving,” Josh said.
Paul got to his feet and walked to the two men. He put his hands on his hips.
“Goodbye,” he said.
“I’m not sure we need this many people. I don’t have that much,” Josh said.
“You’re my roommate now,” Spencer said.
“I said I’d help when you told me you had to move out,” Triston replied.
“And see I know that Spencer doesn’t lift anything heavier than his cell phone at the gym,” Darrell said.
“I was told we were going drinking,” Bobby said.
There was a pause.
“I didn’t have anything better to do.”
They looked to Walter.
“What?”
Josh coughed and stepped between the men to the stairs where he led them up three flights and down a hallway.
“See this is why we brought extra people,” Darrell said to Bobby who walked beside him running a finger along the wall.
Walter was the last. He walked with one hand in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt wary of getting too close to the banister that seemed too short, to bent to be of any good to a person.
Josh opened his apartment door slowly to be greeted by the wet nose of Paul’s dog but he knew the dog was friendly and ushered the guys inside to the living room where they stopped just a few inches away from each other.
Right there in the kitchen was Paul. He was leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, an intense and serious look on his face. On the counter was a partially made sandwich with carrot and celery sticks on the side, an open beer beside the plate.
“Hello,” Paul said.
The men muttered a response but only Darrell and Triston looked to him directly. Bobby found himself trying to politely ward the dog away from his crotch. And Spencer tried to stop himself from grinding his teeth and making a fist with his hand.
“Hi Paul,” Josh said.
They looked across the space to each other but neither of them moved. Finally Josh broke the stare and the silence.
“I don’t have much in the living room, my game system, all the games, and controllers. I don’t have anything in the kitchen but I should take you into my room. It’s where I kept all my stuff from my first apartment.”
He led them down the hall to his bedroom door. He opened it to a stale, cold feeling of a room that had not been used in weeks. They peeked inside to see they had plenty of work to do. There was a bed on it’s side with a frame nearby, bookshelves full of movies, books, and CD’s, exercise equipment and a collection of small weights, poster tubes, a tall black dresser, and a small collection of dry cleaned shirts in the closet.
“If you guys want to start on this,” Josh said.
“I’ll get the video game stuff,” Walter said.
“I’ll help him,” Bobby said.
“And I need to get a few things from Paul’s room,” Josh said.
He stepped away from them to the other door and opened it. There was a familiar sound and the smell of vanilla incense. He looked to the empty and made bed with tight corners and no lines. He thought of the times they spent watching television and cuddling in the early morning before work. He thought about his first morning there and how they felt like adventurers when they raided the refrigerator and had a picnic on the bed.
“Are you okay?” Triston asked.
Josh looked to him and winced. Triston looked back down the hall, worried that Paul would try to join them, maybe ingratiate himself somehow, or worse start complaining about possession and moving out.
“Need a hug?”
They hugged each other.
In Josh’s former bedroom Darrell worked like a machine to load the DVD’s and books into separate boxes. He had moved many times in his life and felt that there was a way to do it so nothing got broken.
Spencer had assembled two boxes and opened a dresser drawer to find a collection of underwear. He looked them over. There was nothing racy but many of them were old, mostly briefs, a few boxers, straps of a jock. He felt himself redden just at the sight of them. He looked to Darrell who was occupied and back inside the drawer. The waistband on the underwear was small, smaller than his own and he had always been proud of his 34 inch waist. He shook all thought away, cleared his throat and shoveled them one handful at a time into the box before he moved on to the next drawer.
It wasn’t long before Darrell and Spencer had stacked boxes, Bobby and Walter had collected all the video game items in boxes by the door, and Josh emptied his few drawers in Paul’s room, took down his necklace from the mirror, and double checked the bathroom. They moved the mattress first.
After they had finished in the living room Paul went in there with his dog to sit and eat. He was methodical and they were quick.
Finally the last of the boxes were being carried downstairs. Josh and Triston stood by the front door of the apartment mentally double checking everything. Triston knew that normally in situations like this the most commonly forgotten things were identification documents but they had already talked it over and Josh’s documents were safely locked in a safety deposit box at a bank.
“Well,” Josh said.
“Well,” Triston replied.
Josh stepped to the archway and looked into the living room. He wanted to pet the dog. He wanted to hug and kiss Paul but he knew it was over. It felt as if the weeks apart had allowed him to form a thin shell around his skin that could break if they touched.
“I’m leaving,” Josh said.
Paul got to his feet and walked to the two men. He put his hands on his hips.
“Goodbye,” he said.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Ch 19 - Hating Home
Dinner was easy even if they didn’t talk much. They felt comfortable with each other not saying anything. They had a few drinks with the meal, walked home, and saw the vodka still on the coffee table so Spencer invited him for a drink.
“I shouldn’t but I really want to,” Josh said.
“A small one,” Spencer said.
They went into the living room and sat. Spencer poured a drink for each of them, Josh’s first then his own, set down the bottle and picked up his glass. They clinked them together before touching the glass to their lips. Josh downed his in gulp and Spencer sipped a little, set it down.
“One thing,” Spencer said.
“What?”
“It’s not for shots. This is sipping. It’s top shelf.”
“Really?” Josh asked.
“Here try another one but drink it more slowly this time,” Spencer said.
Spencer poured him another drink and Josh raised it again, they clinked glasses, but this time Josh sipped at the vodka.
“That’s pretty good,” Josh said.
“Thanks,” Spencer said.
“My boyfriend, Paul, likes this kind of stuff. God, I guess I shouldn’t be calling him my boyfriend, although it’s not official.”
“You moved out,” Spencer said.
“I guess,” Josh said.
“Did you say anything to him?”
“I left him a note,” Josh said. “It was tough. We’ve been together over two years.”
Spencer didn’t say anything. He wanted to say the relationship was over when his boyfriend hit him. He wanted to say it was over when he moved out. He wanted to say it was dead and couldn’t be repaired. He sat back against the sofa, his glass on his thigh he let himself relax.
Josh set his glass on the coffee table and began to run his finger along the lip of the glass.
“I didn’t want to do it. I feel bad. I feel like I should have said something but I also kind of feel like both of us knew it was over. It’s tearing me apart but I shouldn’t hate to go home,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” Spencer said.
It’s easy, he thought, you can be anything you want to be, go anywhere you want to go, and all those lies we tell each other but really a person’s life is small, their group of friends is small, their family... did he have a family? Were they for him after he came out?
“He’s not a bad guy. It’s as much my fault as it is his.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s dumb but we’d challenge each other, say stupid things, and you know how there’s some things you know you shouldn’t say but you do it anyways. I’ve done it. I’ve said those stupid things.”
“But did you attack him? Did you actually start the violence?”
Josh clenched his jaw at the thought, at the insinuation. They had wrestled, struggled, but no he had never hit Paul first, but he did set him off sometimes. And at first it had been just some small accident but each time the boundary got thinner. It was some mixture of discipline and humiliation.
“I didn’t start it. Sometimes I’d hit him back, at first anyway, but then even that got out of control. I knew he’d win. I knew he had it in him. I always restrained myself.”
He thought about when he’d hit Paul back and Paul would return with more force, more intensity. He thought about the look in the man’s eyes. He felt like crying but stopped himself. He didn’t want to show weakness over the man, not here, and not now.
“Hey Josh, you don’t have to go anywhere. You don’t have to go back. The pot was a little thing, I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but you still owe me one, brand new, no thrift store one with scratches in it.”
Josh let out a nervous laugh. He downed his drink and set the glass down. He felt tired and drunk. He sat back against the sofa.
“I should get up and go finish my workout,” Josh said.
“Why don’t you stay here and watch some television?” Spencer asked.
“That sounds so much better,” Josh said. He kicked off his shoes and put his socked feet on the coffee table next to the bottle.
Spencer looked to the socked feet. It was a minor annoyance. He’d say something later. He downed his drink, put the glass on the table, and picked up the remote. He turned on the television and they were both illuminated by the images there. He looked to Josh. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do.
Was he a wounded puppy? Was he being too protective? What was it like to be in a relationship with someone with that kind of past? But his thoughts were silenced by the alcohol and the sound of the television as he looked up to the screen.
“I shouldn’t but I really want to,” Josh said.
“A small one,” Spencer said.
They went into the living room and sat. Spencer poured a drink for each of them, Josh’s first then his own, set down the bottle and picked up his glass. They clinked them together before touching the glass to their lips. Josh downed his in gulp and Spencer sipped a little, set it down.
“One thing,” Spencer said.
“What?”
“It’s not for shots. This is sipping. It’s top shelf.”
“Really?” Josh asked.
“Here try another one but drink it more slowly this time,” Spencer said.
Spencer poured him another drink and Josh raised it again, they clinked glasses, but this time Josh sipped at the vodka.
“That’s pretty good,” Josh said.
“Thanks,” Spencer said.
“My boyfriend, Paul, likes this kind of stuff. God, I guess I shouldn’t be calling him my boyfriend, although it’s not official.”
“You moved out,” Spencer said.
“I guess,” Josh said.
“Did you say anything to him?”
“I left him a note,” Josh said. “It was tough. We’ve been together over two years.”
Spencer didn’t say anything. He wanted to say the relationship was over when his boyfriend hit him. He wanted to say it was over when he moved out. He wanted to say it was dead and couldn’t be repaired. He sat back against the sofa, his glass on his thigh he let himself relax.
Josh set his glass on the coffee table and began to run his finger along the lip of the glass.
“I didn’t want to do it. I feel bad. I feel like I should have said something but I also kind of feel like both of us knew it was over. It’s tearing me apart but I shouldn’t hate to go home,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” Spencer said.
It’s easy, he thought, you can be anything you want to be, go anywhere you want to go, and all those lies we tell each other but really a person’s life is small, their group of friends is small, their family... did he have a family? Were they for him after he came out?
“He’s not a bad guy. It’s as much my fault as it is his.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s dumb but we’d challenge each other, say stupid things, and you know how there’s some things you know you shouldn’t say but you do it anyways. I’ve done it. I’ve said those stupid things.”
“But did you attack him? Did you actually start the violence?”
Josh clenched his jaw at the thought, at the insinuation. They had wrestled, struggled, but no he had never hit Paul first, but he did set him off sometimes. And at first it had been just some small accident but each time the boundary got thinner. It was some mixture of discipline and humiliation.
“I didn’t start it. Sometimes I’d hit him back, at first anyway, but then even that got out of control. I knew he’d win. I knew he had it in him. I always restrained myself.”
He thought about when he’d hit Paul back and Paul would return with more force, more intensity. He thought about the look in the man’s eyes. He felt like crying but stopped himself. He didn’t want to show weakness over the man, not here, and not now.
“Hey Josh, you don’t have to go anywhere. You don’t have to go back. The pot was a little thing, I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but you still owe me one, brand new, no thrift store one with scratches in it.”
Josh let out a nervous laugh. He downed his drink and set the glass down. He felt tired and drunk. He sat back against the sofa.
“I should get up and go finish my workout,” Josh said.
“Why don’t you stay here and watch some television?” Spencer asked.
“That sounds so much better,” Josh said. He kicked off his shoes and put his socked feet on the coffee table next to the bottle.
Spencer looked to the socked feet. It was a minor annoyance. He’d say something later. He downed his drink, put the glass on the table, and picked up the remote. He turned on the television and they were both illuminated by the images there. He looked to Josh. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do.
Was he a wounded puppy? Was he being too protective? What was it like to be in a relationship with someone with that kind of past? But his thoughts were silenced by the alcohol and the sound of the television as he looked up to the screen.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Ch 18 - Minor Things and Deadly Poisons
Before he had a roommate Spencer could expect things to be exactly how he left them when he returned home, the few times he left dishes in the sink at least he knew they were his but living with Josh was different. Josh was absent minded, though well intentioned, but he forgot things. Usually it was small things like his phone or his keys, sometimes a pair of scissors or a knife, once a pizza he left in the oven too long though luckily they were both home at the time.
The worst of it was the pot of water he left on the stove top. Spencer opened the front door of his apartment to an awful smell. “What the hell?” he said aloud as he entered, conscientious to leave the door open he went into the kitchen where he saw the pot was empty, the bottom and sides had turned white. He turned off the electric coil and moved the pot. He let out a grunt of frustration before he looked down the hallway to the closed door of Josh’s room. He started to walk but thought of a better idea so he retrieved the pot and went to his new roommate’s door. He knocked as calmly as he could bare.
“Hello?” Josh said from the other side of the door.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah sure,” Josh said.
Spencer opened the door and looked into the room to see Josh on the floor in the middle of doing sit ups. He was shirtless and his exercise shorts were bunched down around his thighs. He looked to the young man’s muscled chest and then up to his eyes. He had seen his friends, many other men naked, in bed, during sex and the locker room but there was still something about him there, real and touchable. He fought the urge to panic but he realized he wasn’t saying anything at all. He thought about the dishes in the sink, about the mess on the coffee table.
“What’s up?” Josh asked.
Spencer held up the pot so Josh could see the insides.
“Oh crap,” Josh said, “is it bad?”
“It’s ruined,” Spencer said.
“What’s that smell?”
Spencer turned the pot in his hand.
“Really?” Josh asked.
“Poisonous too,” Spencer said. “It could have killed you.”
“Really?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. It supposedly can kill birds. That doesn’t matter. We need to talk.”
“Yeah sure,” Josh said. He began to get to his feet and Spencer turned around and walked back to the entrance where he closed the main door, returned the pot to the stove, and got a bottle of vodka and two glasses that he carried into the living room.
Moments later Josh walked into the living room wearing a sleeveless shirt and nervously biting his lip. Spencer invited him to sit down on the sofa.
How could we be so different, Spencer asked himself, but then he looked to the young man’s hands, his forearms that were muscled, hard and veiny. While I was inside on my computer he was out doing something, skateboarding, running, or playing football.
If they started to talk about sports, but more importantly teams and players Spencer knew he’d be lost and Josh would have the upper hand. He smiled at Josh who seemed equally anxious, maybe more.
Josh looked as if expected Spencer to strike him, hit him in some way, maybe a slap. Was that it? Some regular pattern of hitting the young man, yelling at him maybe, humiliating him maybe that caused him to flinch, to dread being near his boyfriend.
“You owe me a pot,” Spencer said.
“Okay,” Josh said. He reached down to his socks and pulled at them, ran his fingers up to his shorts, pulled at them.
“I’m not mad, not really, kind of annoyed,” Spencer said. “I’m pretty sure one of us could have been killed by it.”
“I wasn’t thinking. I just got into my routine. I’ll pay for a new pot.”
“Good,” Spencer said. “But uh, I think we should let the place air out. Would you want to join me for some dinner?”
“Yeah, that would be great, let me put some clothes on,” Josh said.
Josh got up and walked back to his room. Spencer heard the door close and he slapped his own forehead. The dishes, the mess, he told himself, when he comes out, when he’s got some clothes on then I’ll say something to him over dinner.
The worst of it was the pot of water he left on the stove top. Spencer opened the front door of his apartment to an awful smell. “What the hell?” he said aloud as he entered, conscientious to leave the door open he went into the kitchen where he saw the pot was empty, the bottom and sides had turned white. He turned off the electric coil and moved the pot. He let out a grunt of frustration before he looked down the hallway to the closed door of Josh’s room. He started to walk but thought of a better idea so he retrieved the pot and went to his new roommate’s door. He knocked as calmly as he could bare.
“Hello?” Josh said from the other side of the door.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah sure,” Josh said.
Spencer opened the door and looked into the room to see Josh on the floor in the middle of doing sit ups. He was shirtless and his exercise shorts were bunched down around his thighs. He looked to the young man’s muscled chest and then up to his eyes. He had seen his friends, many other men naked, in bed, during sex and the locker room but there was still something about him there, real and touchable. He fought the urge to panic but he realized he wasn’t saying anything at all. He thought about the dishes in the sink, about the mess on the coffee table.
“What’s up?” Josh asked.
Spencer held up the pot so Josh could see the insides.
“Oh crap,” Josh said, “is it bad?”
“It’s ruined,” Spencer said.
“What’s that smell?”
Spencer turned the pot in his hand.
“Really?” Josh asked.
“Poisonous too,” Spencer said. “It could have killed you.”
“Really?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. It supposedly can kill birds. That doesn’t matter. We need to talk.”
“Yeah sure,” Josh said. He began to get to his feet and Spencer turned around and walked back to the entrance where he closed the main door, returned the pot to the stove, and got a bottle of vodka and two glasses that he carried into the living room.
Moments later Josh walked into the living room wearing a sleeveless shirt and nervously biting his lip. Spencer invited him to sit down on the sofa.
How could we be so different, Spencer asked himself, but then he looked to the young man’s hands, his forearms that were muscled, hard and veiny. While I was inside on my computer he was out doing something, skateboarding, running, or playing football.
If they started to talk about sports, but more importantly teams and players Spencer knew he’d be lost and Josh would have the upper hand. He smiled at Josh who seemed equally anxious, maybe more.
Josh looked as if expected Spencer to strike him, hit him in some way, maybe a slap. Was that it? Some regular pattern of hitting the young man, yelling at him maybe, humiliating him maybe that caused him to flinch, to dread being near his boyfriend.
“You owe me a pot,” Spencer said.
“Okay,” Josh said. He reached down to his socks and pulled at them, ran his fingers up to his shorts, pulled at them.
“I’m not mad, not really, kind of annoyed,” Spencer said. “I’m pretty sure one of us could have been killed by it.”
“I wasn’t thinking. I just got into my routine. I’ll pay for a new pot.”
“Good,” Spencer said. “But uh, I think we should let the place air out. Would you want to join me for some dinner?”
“Yeah, that would be great, let me put some clothes on,” Josh said.
Josh got up and walked back to his room. Spencer heard the door close and he slapped his own forehead. The dishes, the mess, he told himself, when he comes out, when he’s got some clothes on then I’ll say something to him over dinner.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Ch 16 - No Promises
Walter beside him didn’t make Triston feel much safer as they pulled into the driveway of Walter’s parents’ home. Walter was in the driver seat. They looked to each other and smiled. He remembered what Walter had said to him, ‘don’t worry my father isn’t going to kill you’. Triston thought about their conversation, but now was the worst time to have regrets. They had been sitting in the living room, casually drinking beer and watching television.
“I have a weird question to ask you,” Walter said.
“How weird?”
“It’s not sexual. It’s about real life.”
“Okay,” Triston said.
“Well, my parents have seen posts of mine accidentally and they asked me about them. They’re worried about me. They asked if I was seeing anyone.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Well, I told them about you. Nothing specific just, you know, we’re friends.”
“What does that mean?”
“It sounded good at the time but I don’t know. It means you look out for me. I didn’t want to tell them I was having sex or in a committed relationship but that I had someone.”
“Okay,” Triston said. “I’m just your friend?”
“Well, they asked about you a couple times and said they wanted to meet you.”
“I’m not sure,” Triston said.
“Would you go with me to meet them?”
He wanted to say no but it felt as if the request had some force to it, a momentum or gravity that pulled him along. He was curious about meeting the people who had raised such a precocious young man, confident and naive, brave and unprepared. He expected them to be hippies, maybe nudists or college professors. He didn’t expect to find what he did.
They were greeted at the front door by his parents. They were both in their forties. His father had a pot belly. His mother wore a sweater. They reminded Triston of other people’s parents when he was growing up. They were polite, midwestern folk. They made sense here in a town far enough away from the capitol.
They were ushered inside to the living room, directed to the couch where they sat. His father went to the recliner and sat. His mother smiled and offered drinks. Triston wanted to order a double Scotch on the rocks but stopped himself. He looked around at the interior decorations, only the furniture was new and it all had a very rural sensibility but he didn’t take the man or his wife to be rednecks or white trash.
He looked to Walter’s mother who stood waiting despite having asked about drinks. Walter’s father looked as if he were accessing a file for what he was about to say. Triston knew it had been rehearsed, possibly between the two of them. He readied himself for any potential embarrassing statement, any accusation. Walter was nineteen, a good ten years younger than him.
“When our son told us about you we weren’t sure if we ever wanted to meet you. We wanted to discourage him but he has a way of getting the things he wants. We know there’s an age difference between the two of you. We know our son pretty well. He does dangerous things sometimes. It’s the ADD. We also know he has good intentions and is kind hearted.
“Looking at you, knowing that you came all the way out here not knowing us we appreciate your courage and your willingness. We think it says a lot about you. Our son here is a man, a young man, and though he’s out there living his own life we also feel responsible for him. It may sound strange but we think of you kind of like his older mentor and maybe, just maybe, you feel some responsibility for him. We hope you do.”
Triston stared at them. He looked to Walter who sat unmoving. For someone with ADD he had managed to stay calm through the whole speech. He wanted to say many things. He wanted to show them kindness. He wanted to promise them things. He wanted to clarify the relationship. A mentor was far from the boyfriend role Triston had thought he had. He wanted to say all those things but looking at the two of them he found a simpler thing to say.
“I’ll do the best I can.”
There, it was a way out, it meant he’d try but there were no promises. Walter’s father smiled and relaxed in his seat. His mother walked away to the kitchen. Triston looked to Walter who smiled before reaching down into his sock and scratching at his ankle nervously.
“I have a weird question to ask you,” Walter said.
“How weird?”
“It’s not sexual. It’s about real life.”
“Okay,” Triston said.
“Well, my parents have seen posts of mine accidentally and they asked me about them. They’re worried about me. They asked if I was seeing anyone.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Well, I told them about you. Nothing specific just, you know, we’re friends.”
“What does that mean?”
“It sounded good at the time but I don’t know. It means you look out for me. I didn’t want to tell them I was having sex or in a committed relationship but that I had someone.”
“Okay,” Triston said. “I’m just your friend?”
“Well, they asked about you a couple times and said they wanted to meet you.”
“I’m not sure,” Triston said.
“Would you go with me to meet them?”
He wanted to say no but it felt as if the request had some force to it, a momentum or gravity that pulled him along. He was curious about meeting the people who had raised such a precocious young man, confident and naive, brave and unprepared. He expected them to be hippies, maybe nudists or college professors. He didn’t expect to find what he did.
They were greeted at the front door by his parents. They were both in their forties. His father had a pot belly. His mother wore a sweater. They reminded Triston of other people’s parents when he was growing up. They were polite, midwestern folk. They made sense here in a town far enough away from the capitol.
They were ushered inside to the living room, directed to the couch where they sat. His father went to the recliner and sat. His mother smiled and offered drinks. Triston wanted to order a double Scotch on the rocks but stopped himself. He looked around at the interior decorations, only the furniture was new and it all had a very rural sensibility but he didn’t take the man or his wife to be rednecks or white trash.
He looked to Walter’s mother who stood waiting despite having asked about drinks. Walter’s father looked as if he were accessing a file for what he was about to say. Triston knew it had been rehearsed, possibly between the two of them. He readied himself for any potential embarrassing statement, any accusation. Walter was nineteen, a good ten years younger than him.
“When our son told us about you we weren’t sure if we ever wanted to meet you. We wanted to discourage him but he has a way of getting the things he wants. We know there’s an age difference between the two of you. We know our son pretty well. He does dangerous things sometimes. It’s the ADD. We also know he has good intentions and is kind hearted.
“Looking at you, knowing that you came all the way out here not knowing us we appreciate your courage and your willingness. We think it says a lot about you. Our son here is a man, a young man, and though he’s out there living his own life we also feel responsible for him. It may sound strange but we think of you kind of like his older mentor and maybe, just maybe, you feel some responsibility for him. We hope you do.”
Triston stared at them. He looked to Walter who sat unmoving. For someone with ADD he had managed to stay calm through the whole speech. He wanted to say many things. He wanted to show them kindness. He wanted to promise them things. He wanted to clarify the relationship. A mentor was far from the boyfriend role Triston had thought he had. He wanted to say all those things but looking at the two of them he found a simpler thing to say.
“I’ll do the best I can.”
There, it was a way out, it meant he’d try but there were no promises. Walter’s father smiled and relaxed in his seat. His mother walked away to the kitchen. Triston looked to Walter who smiled before reaching down into his sock and scratching at his ankle nervously.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Ch 15 - Bottles of Beer on the Wall
Living together in the same apartment, sharing the same bed, was a serious commitment for Triston, Darrell, and Bobby. No one made an advance, touched or grabbed unless it was expected and usually communicated before it was done. They weren’t there for the sex. They weren’t in a monogamous relationship, it was something else, a friendship. They could talk all night long but they were also comfortable with awkward silences. Each of them was in the bed for his own reason.
For Darrell it was sobriety, dependency, and preoccupation, the little annoyances and distractions that made him fill his day with something else. It had gotten bad two years before he moved in with them. He had his own apartment in that section of town that sounded like a bachelor’s neighborhood.
Drinking on the weekends became drinking every night until he had a collection of bottles in the cupboards of his kitchen instead of dishes, along the counters, and windowsills.
Sometimes they had a utility by holding candles but afterwards, after he decided to detox, go to AA and quit, well they were a reminder. He hated the sound they made, bottle against bottle, grinding as he carried them by the brown paper bag full, two or three in each hand to the dumpster where he set them to the side. They were gone the next day, collected by one of the city’s many homeless, someone had hit the mother load. He could smile about that minimal good that came from his habit, his indulgence, no his suffering.
When you drink for the good times is one thing but when you drink for silence that’s something else entirely different, he thought. He had been a functional alcoholic, no one ever caught on to his self-abuse. He’d sober up in the first few hours of work, drink a couple coffees until he felt ready for his afternoon meetings. How could no one have known?
Maybe they didn’t want to know. Or maybe, just maybe, people are more self-absorbed than he thought and no one could identify his problem, least of all his mother. He didn’t tell her how bad it had gotten, just that he had decided to give it up and he was going to A.A. She just smiled at him, hugged him.
But even sobriety was his new secret, especially why. He didn’t want to relive those moments alone, sitting in the bathtub, on his back, and other impaired judgments including sex. He had gotten lucky. But he considered his best luck to be when he met Triston through a dating website.
They had exchanged emails, IM messages, exchanged numbers, and gotten together for coffee. It was over two black coffees that he confessed that he was looking for friends and not lovers. Triston invited him to the apartment he already shared with Bobby. The cabinets were bare, there were condiment packets in the refrigerator.
They talked for hours on the couch until Bobby came home, then they talked for another hour before he realized how late it had gotten. When they invited him to stay the night he thought to refuse, to dismiss them and leave, but then he thought about his long walk home and his empty bed.
Sometimes, he reasoned, you can trust someone. Triston was someone that if ever he felt a spiritual connection it would be with him. Talking was easy. He could imagine not talking to him for years, meeting up with him, and finding the same comfort.
That first night was awkward. He worried about where his hands and feet ended up. He worried about who was touching him and where. There was just enough space between them. He fantasized about cuddling together. He wanted to hold someone. Bobby was more his type but he thought Triston would have been the most open to it. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything that first night.
It came out over breakfast when they recognized he didn’t seem to have slept well. Triston forced the conversation because he said he was worried about Darrell not returning. It was one of those conversations no one wanted to have and yet it benefited everyone. It was cathartic.
After that conversation he couldn’t imagine spending another night alone and he didn’t want either of them to leave.
For Darrell it was sobriety, dependency, and preoccupation, the little annoyances and distractions that made him fill his day with something else. It had gotten bad two years before he moved in with them. He had his own apartment in that section of town that sounded like a bachelor’s neighborhood.
Drinking on the weekends became drinking every night until he had a collection of bottles in the cupboards of his kitchen instead of dishes, along the counters, and windowsills.
Sometimes they had a utility by holding candles but afterwards, after he decided to detox, go to AA and quit, well they were a reminder. He hated the sound they made, bottle against bottle, grinding as he carried them by the brown paper bag full, two or three in each hand to the dumpster where he set them to the side. They were gone the next day, collected by one of the city’s many homeless, someone had hit the mother load. He could smile about that minimal good that came from his habit, his indulgence, no his suffering.
When you drink for the good times is one thing but when you drink for silence that’s something else entirely different, he thought. He had been a functional alcoholic, no one ever caught on to his self-abuse. He’d sober up in the first few hours of work, drink a couple coffees until he felt ready for his afternoon meetings. How could no one have known?
Maybe they didn’t want to know. Or maybe, just maybe, people are more self-absorbed than he thought and no one could identify his problem, least of all his mother. He didn’t tell her how bad it had gotten, just that he had decided to give it up and he was going to A.A. She just smiled at him, hugged him.
But even sobriety was his new secret, especially why. He didn’t want to relive those moments alone, sitting in the bathtub, on his back, and other impaired judgments including sex. He had gotten lucky. But he considered his best luck to be when he met Triston through a dating website.
They had exchanged emails, IM messages, exchanged numbers, and gotten together for coffee. It was over two black coffees that he confessed that he was looking for friends and not lovers. Triston invited him to the apartment he already shared with Bobby. The cabinets were bare, there were condiment packets in the refrigerator.
They talked for hours on the couch until Bobby came home, then they talked for another hour before he realized how late it had gotten. When they invited him to stay the night he thought to refuse, to dismiss them and leave, but then he thought about his long walk home and his empty bed.
Sometimes, he reasoned, you can trust someone. Triston was someone that if ever he felt a spiritual connection it would be with him. Talking was easy. He could imagine not talking to him for years, meeting up with him, and finding the same comfort.
That first night was awkward. He worried about where his hands and feet ended up. He worried about who was touching him and where. There was just enough space between them. He fantasized about cuddling together. He wanted to hold someone. Bobby was more his type but he thought Triston would have been the most open to it. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything that first night.
It came out over breakfast when they recognized he didn’t seem to have slept well. Triston forced the conversation because he said he was worried about Darrell not returning. It was one of those conversations no one wanted to have and yet it benefited everyone. It was cathartic.
After that conversation he couldn’t imagine spending another night alone and he didn’t want either of them to leave.
Ch 14 - Bring Unto Me
Three men in the bed during winter kept them warm all night long. But it was the morning when it felt too good for any of them to want to get out of bed. They were usually up by 6:30 in the morning, but even if they had to get up to use the bathroom each of them returned to the bed and got back under the covers.
On Saturday mornings if Spencer stayed over he ended up in bed with them sometimes, especially when it was cold.
Shoulder to shoulder the four of them stared up at the ceiling.
“Did you know Walter wears a diaper?” Darrell asked.
“Yeah,” Triston replied. “We tried it out one night. It was his idea. He saw it online and wanted to see what it was like.”
“He wore it when he took me to my mother’s place to help her. It was kind of weird.”
“How did you find out?” Bobby asked.
“By accident when he was filling the car tire with air. It was right there peeking out at me. I thought it was funny at first but then it started to worry me.”
“Did you say anything?”
“I had to say something, but I tried to be polite. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to be weird for my mother. He was really nice though, made it easy. She liked him.”
“That’s good,” Triston said. “That reminds me, he wants to have a birthday party here.”
“Birthday party? What are we talking about?” Darrell asked.
“Two weeks from now, on a Friday, he wants to have a sleepover,” Triston said.
“Sleepover? Like we’re twelve years old?” Darrell asked.
“Like we’re friends, male friends, all hanging out together. There will be drinks and snacks. He wants to have a marathon of some kind. Either a television show or some movies, maybe horror movies.”
“Sounds kind of lame,” Spencer said.
“He doesn’t have any friends. I thought it would be okay. It’s a Friday night.”
“Just remind me,” Darrell said.
“I’ll probably be there,” Bobby said.
“Are we getting him presents?” Spencer asked.
“Something small, if it’s not too much,” Triston said.
“Maybe some more diapers?” Darrell asked.
Everyone fell silent at the question, at the dilemma. Each of them had not known Walter very long. He was likable but young, unpredictable. There was a shift from person to person, a movement of a hand, a foot, but a like minded comfort.
“I got a new job,” Bobby said.
“What? Where?” Spencer asked.
“The Unicorn, I’m going to be a stripper slash go-go boy,” Bobby said.
“It makes sense now,” Triston said.
“What’s that?” Bobby asked.
“Why you’ve been going to the gym more these last two weeks. I thought it was your new boyfriend. How is he? Are you going to tell him?”
“No commitments,” Bobby said. “I’m going to tell him, eventually, but there’s a lot of things he doesn’t know, like about us, this.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Spencer asked.
“A lot of people would be confused,” Darrell said.
“So, dancing around in your undies? What made you interested?”
“I think it will be fun. It’s a good way to make cash and I don’t plan to ever run for public office in my future. Plus, I mean I have enough selfies online that are just as revealing.”
“Besides by then it will be no big deal. Eventually we’ll have a female president who posted pictures online of herself doing bong hits and keg stands,” Darrell said.
“Exactly,” Bobby said.
On Saturday mornings if Spencer stayed over he ended up in bed with them sometimes, especially when it was cold.
Shoulder to shoulder the four of them stared up at the ceiling.
“Did you know Walter wears a diaper?” Darrell asked.
“Yeah,” Triston replied. “We tried it out one night. It was his idea. He saw it online and wanted to see what it was like.”
“He wore it when he took me to my mother’s place to help her. It was kind of weird.”
“How did you find out?” Bobby asked.
“By accident when he was filling the car tire with air. It was right there peeking out at me. I thought it was funny at first but then it started to worry me.”
“Did you say anything?”
“I had to say something, but I tried to be polite. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to be weird for my mother. He was really nice though, made it easy. She liked him.”
“That’s good,” Triston said. “That reminds me, he wants to have a birthday party here.”
“Birthday party? What are we talking about?” Darrell asked.
“Two weeks from now, on a Friday, he wants to have a sleepover,” Triston said.
“Sleepover? Like we’re twelve years old?” Darrell asked.
“Like we’re friends, male friends, all hanging out together. There will be drinks and snacks. He wants to have a marathon of some kind. Either a television show or some movies, maybe horror movies.”
“Sounds kind of lame,” Spencer said.
“He doesn’t have any friends. I thought it would be okay. It’s a Friday night.”
“Just remind me,” Darrell said.
“I’ll probably be there,” Bobby said.
“Are we getting him presents?” Spencer asked.
“Something small, if it’s not too much,” Triston said.
“Maybe some more diapers?” Darrell asked.
Everyone fell silent at the question, at the dilemma. Each of them had not known Walter very long. He was likable but young, unpredictable. There was a shift from person to person, a movement of a hand, a foot, but a like minded comfort.
“I got a new job,” Bobby said.
“What? Where?” Spencer asked.
“The Unicorn, I’m going to be a stripper slash go-go boy,” Bobby said.
“It makes sense now,” Triston said.
“What’s that?” Bobby asked.
“Why you’ve been going to the gym more these last two weeks. I thought it was your new boyfriend. How is he? Are you going to tell him?”
“No commitments,” Bobby said. “I’m going to tell him, eventually, but there’s a lot of things he doesn’t know, like about us, this.”
“What’s wrong with this?” Spencer asked.
“A lot of people would be confused,” Darrell said.
“So, dancing around in your undies? What made you interested?”
“I think it will be fun. It’s a good way to make cash and I don’t plan to ever run for public office in my future. Plus, I mean I have enough selfies online that are just as revealing.”
“Besides by then it will be no big deal. Eventually we’ll have a female president who posted pictures online of herself doing bong hits and keg stands,” Darrell said.
“Exactly,” Bobby 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.
“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.
Ch 12 - Dong Tossing Pt 2
Mostly obscured from the main road Cheryl and Triston parked their cars beside the building to provide the most space to conduct their activity. They had talked briefly with the skateboarders who advised them to not break any glass, not fire any guns, and to not drink. The young men seemed honest and possibly a little friendly.
Triston readied his ballista and Cheryl readied her slingshot.
“What is this thing again?” Bobby asked.
“It’s a ballista. It’s a medieval siege weapon. It’s like a really big crossbow,” Triston said. “We can take turns but I go first.”
They left the trunk open with the dildos piled inside in a nice stack. Triston and Cheryl took theirs out first and readied them in their devices.
“Are we doing this together?” Cheryl asked.
“Together,” Triston said.
“3, 2, 1,” they said, “and fire!”
They each fired their device sending the rubbery toys out into the air. Cheryl’s launched vertically, quivering the most noticeably as it flew but still going the farthest while Triston’s seemed the most dangerous as it hit head first and bounced several feet. Everyone cheered at the inaugural launch.
“Everyone take a turn then we’ll go collect them,” Triston said.
Despite the shortcomings of his device Triston cheered each time they fired a toy, enjoying the absurdity of what they were doing. They were feeling comfortable and on their second turns when the skateboarders took notice and began to approach. The skateboarders had worked up a sweat by then and many of them were shirtless.
“What are those things?”
“What are you launching?”
Walter held the slingshot in the ready position and looked to the other members of his group who looked at each other curiously.
The skateboarders made their way to the back of the cars, amongst the group, the two leaders, the two representatives, who had been sent to talk to them earlier made it closest to the open trunk.
“What are those? Are those dildos?”
“Uh yeah, they’re supposed to be destroyed,” Triston said.
“Where did you get so many?”
“I work at an adult store,” Triston said.
“That’s cool,” the guy said.
“Can we watch?”
Triston looked around to everyone else who shrugged their shoulders or else nodded, then said that they could watch, participate even if they wanted. The guy who had asked reached into the trunk and took out a long toy. He held it at the base, shook it, causing it to vibrate.
“Holy shit, look at this thing,” he said.
Another skateboarder reached in and took out another one. He ran his fingers over the surface, laughing as he did, then gripped it in a similar fashion. He began to swing it through the air like a sword and it wasn’t long before several others picked up their own and began doing the same. They took turns stabbing at each other and pretending to have sword fights.
“So, uh, are you guys like gay?” one of them asked.
“Yeah,” Triston answered.
“That’s cool, Alex over here is gay.”
Triston looked to Alex who looked to the ground as his face turned red with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if the young men were joking but somehow it didn’t matter. It wasn’t long before they got back to launching the toys. It was easier with more people.
In all of the activity the groups merged together, separated, and were back together again, each talking with a member of the other. They took turns launching the phallus shaped objects, laughing and cheering, competing even.
Eventually the fun began to wear thin, especially for Triston, Darrell, and Bobby who began to worry about their other obligations. After completing one last round they made their way back to the cars and tossed the toys inside the trunk.
Bobby noticed first that someone was missing from his group. He got Triston’s attention who did a quick count, pointing to each of them. Darrell, Walter, Doug, and Cheryl were right there.
“Where’s Spencer?” Triston asked.
The skateboarders looked at each other, unsure who was who but took an accounting of the members of their own group.
“Where’s Alex?” one of them asked.
Triston readied his ballista and Cheryl readied her slingshot.
“What is this thing again?” Bobby asked.
“It’s a ballista. It’s a medieval siege weapon. It’s like a really big crossbow,” Triston said. “We can take turns but I go first.”
They left the trunk open with the dildos piled inside in a nice stack. Triston and Cheryl took theirs out first and readied them in their devices.
“Are we doing this together?” Cheryl asked.
“Together,” Triston said.
“3, 2, 1,” they said, “and fire!”
They each fired their device sending the rubbery toys out into the air. Cheryl’s launched vertically, quivering the most noticeably as it flew but still going the farthest while Triston’s seemed the most dangerous as it hit head first and bounced several feet. Everyone cheered at the inaugural launch.
“Everyone take a turn then we’ll go collect them,” Triston said.
Despite the shortcomings of his device Triston cheered each time they fired a toy, enjoying the absurdity of what they were doing. They were feeling comfortable and on their second turns when the skateboarders took notice and began to approach. The skateboarders had worked up a sweat by then and many of them were shirtless.
“What are those things?”
“What are you launching?”
Walter held the slingshot in the ready position and looked to the other members of his group who looked at each other curiously.
The skateboarders made their way to the back of the cars, amongst the group, the two leaders, the two representatives, who had been sent to talk to them earlier made it closest to the open trunk.
“What are those? Are those dildos?”
“Uh yeah, they’re supposed to be destroyed,” Triston said.
“Where did you get so many?”
“I work at an adult store,” Triston said.
“That’s cool,” the guy said.
“Can we watch?”
Triston looked around to everyone else who shrugged their shoulders or else nodded, then said that they could watch, participate even if they wanted. The guy who had asked reached into the trunk and took out a long toy. He held it at the base, shook it, causing it to vibrate.
“Holy shit, look at this thing,” he said.
Another skateboarder reached in and took out another one. He ran his fingers over the surface, laughing as he did, then gripped it in a similar fashion. He began to swing it through the air like a sword and it wasn’t long before several others picked up their own and began doing the same. They took turns stabbing at each other and pretending to have sword fights.
“So, uh, are you guys like gay?” one of them asked.
“Yeah,” Triston answered.
“That’s cool, Alex over here is gay.”
Triston looked to Alex who looked to the ground as his face turned red with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if the young men were joking but somehow it didn’t matter. It wasn’t long before they got back to launching the toys. It was easier with more people.
In all of the activity the groups merged together, separated, and were back together again, each talking with a member of the other. They took turns launching the phallus shaped objects, laughing and cheering, competing even.
Eventually the fun began to wear thin, especially for Triston, Darrell, and Bobby who began to worry about their other obligations. After completing one last round they made their way back to the cars and tossed the toys inside the trunk.
Bobby noticed first that someone was missing from his group. He got Triston’s attention who did a quick count, pointing to each of them. Darrell, Walter, Doug, and Cheryl were right there.
“Where’s Spencer?” Triston asked.
The skateboarders looked at each other, unsure who was who but took an accounting of the members of their own group.
“Where’s Alex?” one of them asked.
Ch 11 - Dong Tossing Pt 1
Triston drove, Bobby was in the passenger seat, Darrell, Walter, and Spencer were in the backseat, shoulder to shoulder. Spencer was having second thoughts about coming along with them on this exercise of immaturity, not just because he was crammed in the backseat but because of what they were going to do.
They were meeting up with Triston’s coworker, Cheryl, and her friend Doug at an old strip mall in Virginia to, of all things, toss dildos. The sex toys, over thirty of them, had been pulled from the shelves for destruction by the manufacturer for their possible toxic elements. Triston and Cheryl had diligently pulled them from the shelves, bagged them, and taken them out to the dumpster where Triston hesitated before throwing them inside. He said that he thought it was a waste and even if they couldn’t be used for the intended purposes there could be something else done with them.
Cheryl and Triston went back inside trying to think of nonsexual things to do with the toys. At first they had thought of ridiculous things like building a monument, then political as they thought about mailing them to bigot, homophobic politicians and preachers but they worried about being arrested for a federal crime of misuse of the postal service.
Eventually someone said something about a dildo flying through the air, and each of them had an idea for how best it could be done. Triston wanted to make a ballista type device and Cheryl wanted to make a simple slingshot using medical grade rubber tubing. Rather than work together it became a competition.
Spencer let out a groan when he felt Walter’s elbow in his side. It wasn’t just going along but being crammed in the backseat of his own car for almost an hour. The last time he had been there was a decade ago and everyone was much smaller then, including Darrell who had gained muscle, if not a little fat since then. He pushed back at Walter’s elbow, unintentionally pushing him into Darrell who groaned and pushed back.
“Hey guys, I’m the one stuck in the middle here,” Walter said.
“Behave yourselves boys or there will be no ice cream,” Triston said.
“Why do I feel like the wife?” Bobby asked.
Walter opened his mouth to speak but as he felt Darrell and Spencer beside him he decided to not say anything, even if it was funny.
“We’re almost there,” Triston said. “There it is.”
Triston pulled into the parking lot and drove over the barely remaining lines of parking spaces, past the buildings and to a back area where he had planned to meet Cheryl. She was there but so was another car.
“Did she bring someone else?” Bobby asked.
“She didn’t say she was going to bring someone else,” Triston said.
He stopped the car and that’s when they all heard it, yelling and the sounds of skateboard wheels on concrete then along a steel pipe. They looked to the corner of a building where a young man launched from a railing to the ground, raised his arms in triumph and skated out before he circled back.
“Well, I have to get out,” Spencer said.
Everyone got out of the car and began to stretch. Cheryl and Doug joined them. Triston and Cheryl began to talk amongst themselves but they were all thinking the same thing, young, male, and skateboarders. They had all imagined there wouldn’t be anyone else at the strip mall and they could carry out their impish, if not childish activity without the judgment of people, especially straights.
“Maybe it’ll be okay,” Bobby said.
“They might just leave us alone,” Spencer said.
“I’ll go see what they’re like,” Walter said.
He walked away from the group, but Darrell feeling a need to protect him followed, then Bobby, Spencer, and Doug leaving Triston and Cheryl together for a moment before they also followed. They walked along the side of the building and reformed into a group at the corner where Walter stopped to make sure no one would come flying by.
At the back of the building was a long run that had been used for loading and unloading, where they stood was stairs with a railing perfect for grinds. Six skateboarders were at the beginning of the long run smoking and goofing around with each other, oblivious until one of them noticed the group.
“Hi there,” Walter said with a little wave of his hand.
The skateboarders talked amongst themselves for a moment before sending two representatives to meet them. The two young men were skinny with baggy jeans that hung loose around their waists. They had tattoos and piercings.
They were meeting up with Triston’s coworker, Cheryl, and her friend Doug at an old strip mall in Virginia to, of all things, toss dildos. The sex toys, over thirty of them, had been pulled from the shelves for destruction by the manufacturer for their possible toxic elements. Triston and Cheryl had diligently pulled them from the shelves, bagged them, and taken them out to the dumpster where Triston hesitated before throwing them inside. He said that he thought it was a waste and even if they couldn’t be used for the intended purposes there could be something else done with them.
Cheryl and Triston went back inside trying to think of nonsexual things to do with the toys. At first they had thought of ridiculous things like building a monument, then political as they thought about mailing them to bigot, homophobic politicians and preachers but they worried about being arrested for a federal crime of misuse of the postal service.
Eventually someone said something about a dildo flying through the air, and each of them had an idea for how best it could be done. Triston wanted to make a ballista type device and Cheryl wanted to make a simple slingshot using medical grade rubber tubing. Rather than work together it became a competition.
Spencer let out a groan when he felt Walter’s elbow in his side. It wasn’t just going along but being crammed in the backseat of his own car for almost an hour. The last time he had been there was a decade ago and everyone was much smaller then, including Darrell who had gained muscle, if not a little fat since then. He pushed back at Walter’s elbow, unintentionally pushing him into Darrell who groaned and pushed back.
“Hey guys, I’m the one stuck in the middle here,” Walter said.
“Behave yourselves boys or there will be no ice cream,” Triston said.
“Why do I feel like the wife?” Bobby asked.
Walter opened his mouth to speak but as he felt Darrell and Spencer beside him he decided to not say anything, even if it was funny.
“We’re almost there,” Triston said. “There it is.”
Triston pulled into the parking lot and drove over the barely remaining lines of parking spaces, past the buildings and to a back area where he had planned to meet Cheryl. She was there but so was another car.
“Did she bring someone else?” Bobby asked.
“She didn’t say she was going to bring someone else,” Triston said.
He stopped the car and that’s when they all heard it, yelling and the sounds of skateboard wheels on concrete then along a steel pipe. They looked to the corner of a building where a young man launched from a railing to the ground, raised his arms in triumph and skated out before he circled back.
“Well, I have to get out,” Spencer said.
Everyone got out of the car and began to stretch. Cheryl and Doug joined them. Triston and Cheryl began to talk amongst themselves but they were all thinking the same thing, young, male, and skateboarders. They had all imagined there wouldn’t be anyone else at the strip mall and they could carry out their impish, if not childish activity without the judgment of people, especially straights.
“Maybe it’ll be okay,” Bobby said.
“They might just leave us alone,” Spencer said.
“I’ll go see what they’re like,” Walter said.
He walked away from the group, but Darrell feeling a need to protect him followed, then Bobby, Spencer, and Doug leaving Triston and Cheryl together for a moment before they also followed. They walked along the side of the building and reformed into a group at the corner where Walter stopped to make sure no one would come flying by.
At the back of the building was a long run that had been used for loading and unloading, where they stood was stairs with a railing perfect for grinds. Six skateboarders were at the beginning of the long run smoking and goofing around with each other, oblivious until one of them noticed the group.
“Hi there,” Walter said with a little wave of his hand.
The skateboarders talked amongst themselves for a moment before sending two representatives to meet them. The two young men were skinny with baggy jeans that hung loose around their waists. They had tattoos and piercings.
Ch 10 - Spanked Boys
“Seriously?”
Darrell nodded.
“What do you think guys?”
“I’m not sure he’d be fair,” Walter said.
“I’m the most fair person here plus I haven’t been drinking,” Darrell said.
“He is,” Spencer said.
“I trust him,” Triston added.
Chad looked to Darrell then to the other men and agreed as he was feeling foolish for what he was about to do yet too full of pride to stop.
“There we have it. Now who’s first?” Darrell asked.
Walter and Chad stared at each other daring the other to go first but Triston interrupted their challenge by volunteering himself. He moved to the bench and lowered his jeans before assuming the position. Darrell picked out a wooden paddle from the wall and told Walter to put the one in his hands back before clearing out the area. He took his stance behind Triston as if he were about to play golf.
“Ready?” Darrell called out.
“Ready,” Triston said.
Darrell whacked him once, twice, three times making Triston moan a little louder with each hit. Chad smiled as he looked to Walter who was biting at his nails. Darrell continued to ten without interruption before Triston pushed himself from the bench and grabbed at his own ass. He massaged his flesh through the fabric.
“Who’s next?” Darrell asked.
Chad volunteered himself before Walter could speak. He wanted to get it over with because he saw people were beginning to notice. He lowered his jeans to whistles and cat-calls, bent over the bench horse and readied himself. A straight man in a gay bar about to be spanked for their amusement, he shook his head.
The first whack didn’t feel like much. The second felt like a force he was unfamiliar with then between the fourth and fifth strikes his flesh reacted. It felt like it was cracking open up his back tearing fissures through the rest of his body and the rest of his skin. But he balled his fist because pain was nothing to fear. He could handle anything. This was just like when his father spanked him, he told himself.
Darrell got to ten then stopped. Chad pushed himself up, picked up his jeans, fastened his belt and turned to the audience, feigned a smile and a wave before he went back to his position beside Spencer. Walter grinned at them before he stepped to the bench and turned to the audience raising his arms getting the crowd to applaud. He turned to the bench and instead of just lowering his jeans he lowered his underwear as well baring himself for everyone to see. Darrell grinned before he touched the paddle to his cheeks. He tapped several times before he pulled back then swung.
Walter took the spanking easily, pulled up his pants and underwear as he stood and encouraged the men to cheer for him again before he went to Triston and Chad to challenge them to more.
“The deal was ten, we all did it, now we have thirty bucks to drink with so let’s enjoy ourselves,” Triston said.
“It’s not fun until someone cries,” Walter said.
“In that case I’ll give you a good spanking,” Darrell said.
“You’d make me cry?” Walter asked.
“Come with me young man,” Darrell said before grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him to the bench.
Walter laughed at the attention he was getting before he pulled his pants and underwear back down and assumed the position.
Spencer looked to Chad who stood with his arms crossed, one hand up towards his face nervously biting at his thumb. He could tell something was wrong with his new friend. He looked to the spanking bench then to Chad. He had been through something. He looked around at the crowd of men who were all enjoying themselves, even Triston was laughing a little.
He moved to Chad but was afraid to touch him so he got his attention then signaled for him to follow which he began to do. Spencer led him out the back of the club to the small, mostly clean alley. They stopped in the darkness, not quite illuminated by any source of light. He wanted to comfort the man. He wanted to hug him, embrace him, tell him kind words but he knew none of that would work. He knew none of that would help Chad. He knew he had to play it cool, keep calm.
“Didn’t expect it to be chilly out here,” Spencer observed.
“Yeah, it’s pretty different out here, kind of cold.”
They stood in silence for a long time before Spencer decided to ask.
“So what is it? What’s going on?”
“Just kind of weird, I mean it was all in jest and everything. I thought I was over it. Being paddled like that, watching Walter getting spanked it reminded me of my father. He used to hit us growing up, my brother and me. He liked to use the belt. It was over fifteen years ago now. I didn’t think it meant anything. It was normal but still. I hadn’t thought about it in so long. Then to see it. It reminded me of this one time I watched him beat my brother and my brother started squirming so he had me hold him by the wrists. I felt so bad but I knew if I didn’t he do worse to me.”
Spencer looked away into the darkness then to the silhouette of his new friend.
Darrell nodded.
“What do you think guys?”
“I’m not sure he’d be fair,” Walter said.
“I’m the most fair person here plus I haven’t been drinking,” Darrell said.
“He is,” Spencer said.
“I trust him,” Triston added.
Chad looked to Darrell then to the other men and agreed as he was feeling foolish for what he was about to do yet too full of pride to stop.
“There we have it. Now who’s first?” Darrell asked.
Walter and Chad stared at each other daring the other to go first but Triston interrupted their challenge by volunteering himself. He moved to the bench and lowered his jeans before assuming the position. Darrell picked out a wooden paddle from the wall and told Walter to put the one in his hands back before clearing out the area. He took his stance behind Triston as if he were about to play golf.
“Ready?” Darrell called out.
“Ready,” Triston said.
Darrell whacked him once, twice, three times making Triston moan a little louder with each hit. Chad smiled as he looked to Walter who was biting at his nails. Darrell continued to ten without interruption before Triston pushed himself from the bench and grabbed at his own ass. He massaged his flesh through the fabric.
“Who’s next?” Darrell asked.
Chad volunteered himself before Walter could speak. He wanted to get it over with because he saw people were beginning to notice. He lowered his jeans to whistles and cat-calls, bent over the bench horse and readied himself. A straight man in a gay bar about to be spanked for their amusement, he shook his head.
The first whack didn’t feel like much. The second felt like a force he was unfamiliar with then between the fourth and fifth strikes his flesh reacted. It felt like it was cracking open up his back tearing fissures through the rest of his body and the rest of his skin. But he balled his fist because pain was nothing to fear. He could handle anything. This was just like when his father spanked him, he told himself.
Darrell got to ten then stopped. Chad pushed himself up, picked up his jeans, fastened his belt and turned to the audience, feigned a smile and a wave before he went back to his position beside Spencer. Walter grinned at them before he stepped to the bench and turned to the audience raising his arms getting the crowd to applaud. He turned to the bench and instead of just lowering his jeans he lowered his underwear as well baring himself for everyone to see. Darrell grinned before he touched the paddle to his cheeks. He tapped several times before he pulled back then swung.
Walter took the spanking easily, pulled up his pants and underwear as he stood and encouraged the men to cheer for him again before he went to Triston and Chad to challenge them to more.
“The deal was ten, we all did it, now we have thirty bucks to drink with so let’s enjoy ourselves,” Triston said.
“It’s not fun until someone cries,” Walter said.
“In that case I’ll give you a good spanking,” Darrell said.
“You’d make me cry?” Walter asked.
“Come with me young man,” Darrell said before grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him to the bench.
Walter laughed at the attention he was getting before he pulled his pants and underwear back down and assumed the position.
Spencer looked to Chad who stood with his arms crossed, one hand up towards his face nervously biting at his thumb. He could tell something was wrong with his new friend. He looked to the spanking bench then to Chad. He had been through something. He looked around at the crowd of men who were all enjoying themselves, even Triston was laughing a little.
He moved to Chad but was afraid to touch him so he got his attention then signaled for him to follow which he began to do. Spencer led him out the back of the club to the small, mostly clean alley. They stopped in the darkness, not quite illuminated by any source of light. He wanted to comfort the man. He wanted to hug him, embrace him, tell him kind words but he knew none of that would work. He knew none of that would help Chad. He knew he had to play it cool, keep calm.
“Didn’t expect it to be chilly out here,” Spencer observed.
“Yeah, it’s pretty different out here, kind of cold.”
They stood in silence for a long time before Spencer decided to ask.
“So what is it? What’s going on?”
“Just kind of weird, I mean it was all in jest and everything. I thought I was over it. Being paddled like that, watching Walter getting spanked it reminded me of my father. He used to hit us growing up, my brother and me. He liked to use the belt. It was over fifteen years ago now. I didn’t think it meant anything. It was normal but still. I hadn’t thought about it in so long. Then to see it. It reminded me of this one time I watched him beat my brother and my brother started squirming so he had me hold him by the wrists. I felt so bad but I knew if I didn’t he do worse to me.”
Spencer looked away into the darkness then to the silhouette of his new friend.
Ch 09 - To Drink
The music was loud.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Chad said above the cacophony. He looked around the bar at all the other men then to his companions: Spencer, Triston, Darrell, Bobby, and Walter.
“To drink,” Bobby said raising his glass.
“Which one of us is the designated driver?” Chad asked.
“Darrell here doesn’t drink,” Spencer said.
“Really?”
“A.A., I’ve been sober for a year now,” Darrell said.
“Congratulations,” Chad said before he took a drink from his glass.
“That must suck,” Walter said. “I hate not being able to drink.”
Darrell looked at Walter then to Triston who shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m going to find someone to dance,” Darrell said.
“Take me,” Bobby said before he hopped off his stool and followed after him.
“I’m going to get something to drink,” Walter said.
“Don’t try to order anything alcoholic,” Triston said.
Walter held up his hand indicating the sticker that marked him as being underage then said, ‘yes dad’ before departed.
“I hope I didn’t ruin anything,” Chad said.
“No, it’s usually like this,” Spencer said. “People come and go all night.”
“I’m going to check on my protege,” Triston said.
Chad and Spencer looked at each other unsure what to say next they sat in silence for a long time. Times like this he would have left the table himself, found someone to dance with or gotten another drink, maybe a trip to the bathroom but he felt obligated to stay and keep Chad company. He was a stranger in a strange land.
“So how’s being a cop?” Spencer asked.
“It’s difficult,” Chad said.
Spencer raised his eyebrows hoping for a story, an anecdote or something amusing but there was silence and he suddenly imagined the conversation between Chad and his wife with her being the one who talked constantly. He thought to say something else but then he saw the look on Chad’s face, the tension in his shoulders. He was trying to be nice, Spencer thought, trying to be brave, but truthfully if someone saw him here, a coworker, there could be problems despite being married and having a ring. He could be mistaken for being on the down low, cheating on his wife, or worse. Walter dispersed his thoughts as he arrived at the table with enthusiasm. Triston wasn’t far behind him carrying a fresh drink.
“I just found out they have a spanking booth,” he said.
“Congratulations,” Spencer said
“Did he tell you? He found out about the spanking booth and now he’s desperate to try it. I told him to wait for another night.”
“He said it would bother Chad here,” Walter said.
“I said it might,” Triston added.
“Wouldn’t bother me,” Chad said. “It’s a little kinky for my taste but go ahead.”
“You wouldn’t be able to handle the pain. All you straight boys are alike,” Walter said.
“Hey take it easy,” Spencer replied.
“I could handle the pain,” Chad said. “I just don’t get off on it.”
“Then prove it,” Walter said.
“What?”
“Prove you can do it and you’re not some prude. I bet you can’t handle five swats.”
“Are you challenging me to a spanking competition?”
“I am now,” Walter said.
“That would be-” he stopped himself.
Everyone thought he wanted to say any of the words that were politically incorrect but he didn’t finish the sentence and instead shook his head.
“Gay?” Walter asked.
“Painful,” Chad said. “I was going to say painful.”
“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” Walter said.
“Ten bucks for ten swats,” Walter said.
“Okay,” Chad replied.
“Come on guys,” Spencer said.
“Sounds like fun,” Triston said.
“No more beer, no more liquor to dull the senses. We’re going to get your ass turned from that pale white to a flaming red,” Walter said pulling out his wallet and opening it.
He pulled two twenties and a ten out and handed them to Spencer as he told him to hold the money. Triston pulled his phone and sent a text message of the important details to Bobby and Darrell.
“Let’s do this,” Chad said.
They walked across the floor of the bar to the far wall where a spanking area had been set up including a bench and several different implements. Walter headed straight for the wooden paddle and picked it up. He began to swing it through the air as if he was giving an imaginary spanking to someone. Spencer and Chad stood shoulder to shoulder as they looked to Triston who bit at his lip.
“Usually there is someone here,” Triston said.
“What’s going on?” Darrell asked interrupting their mutual confusion.
Bobby was right behind him.
“It’s a spanking competition,” Spencer said.
“Really?” Bobby asked.
Spencer nodded.
“Who is getting spanked?” Darrell asked.
“Chad, Walter, and Triston if we can find anyone to do it,” Spencer said.
“I’ll do it,” Darrell said.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Chad said above the cacophony. He looked around the bar at all the other men then to his companions: Spencer, Triston, Darrell, Bobby, and Walter.
“To drink,” Bobby said raising his glass.
“Which one of us is the designated driver?” Chad asked.
“Darrell here doesn’t drink,” Spencer said.
“Really?”
“A.A., I’ve been sober for a year now,” Darrell said.
“Congratulations,” Chad said before he took a drink from his glass.
“That must suck,” Walter said. “I hate not being able to drink.”
Darrell looked at Walter then to Triston who shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m going to find someone to dance,” Darrell said.
“Take me,” Bobby said before he hopped off his stool and followed after him.
“I’m going to get something to drink,” Walter said.
“Don’t try to order anything alcoholic,” Triston said.
Walter held up his hand indicating the sticker that marked him as being underage then said, ‘yes dad’ before departed.
“I hope I didn’t ruin anything,” Chad said.
“No, it’s usually like this,” Spencer said. “People come and go all night.”
“I’m going to check on my protege,” Triston said.
Chad and Spencer looked at each other unsure what to say next they sat in silence for a long time. Times like this he would have left the table himself, found someone to dance with or gotten another drink, maybe a trip to the bathroom but he felt obligated to stay and keep Chad company. He was a stranger in a strange land.
“So how’s being a cop?” Spencer asked.
“It’s difficult,” Chad said.
Spencer raised his eyebrows hoping for a story, an anecdote or something amusing but there was silence and he suddenly imagined the conversation between Chad and his wife with her being the one who talked constantly. He thought to say something else but then he saw the look on Chad’s face, the tension in his shoulders. He was trying to be nice, Spencer thought, trying to be brave, but truthfully if someone saw him here, a coworker, there could be problems despite being married and having a ring. He could be mistaken for being on the down low, cheating on his wife, or worse. Walter dispersed his thoughts as he arrived at the table with enthusiasm. Triston wasn’t far behind him carrying a fresh drink.
“I just found out they have a spanking booth,” he said.
“Congratulations,” Spencer said
“Did he tell you? He found out about the spanking booth and now he’s desperate to try it. I told him to wait for another night.”
“He said it would bother Chad here,” Walter said.
“I said it might,” Triston added.
“Wouldn’t bother me,” Chad said. “It’s a little kinky for my taste but go ahead.”
“You wouldn’t be able to handle the pain. All you straight boys are alike,” Walter said.
“Hey take it easy,” Spencer replied.
“I could handle the pain,” Chad said. “I just don’t get off on it.”
“Then prove it,” Walter said.
“What?”
“Prove you can do it and you’re not some prude. I bet you can’t handle five swats.”
“Are you challenging me to a spanking competition?”
“I am now,” Walter said.
“That would be-” he stopped himself.
Everyone thought he wanted to say any of the words that were politically incorrect but he didn’t finish the sentence and instead shook his head.
“Gay?” Walter asked.
“Painful,” Chad said. “I was going to say painful.”
“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” Walter said.
“Ten bucks for ten swats,” Walter said.
“Okay,” Chad replied.
“Come on guys,” Spencer said.
“Sounds like fun,” Triston said.
“No more beer, no more liquor to dull the senses. We’re going to get your ass turned from that pale white to a flaming red,” Walter said pulling out his wallet and opening it.
He pulled two twenties and a ten out and handed them to Spencer as he told him to hold the money. Triston pulled his phone and sent a text message of the important details to Bobby and Darrell.
“Let’s do this,” Chad said.
They walked across the floor of the bar to the far wall where a spanking area had been set up including a bench and several different implements. Walter headed straight for the wooden paddle and picked it up. He began to swing it through the air as if he was giving an imaginary spanking to someone. Spencer and Chad stood shoulder to shoulder as they looked to Triston who bit at his lip.
“Usually there is someone here,” Triston said.
“What’s going on?” Darrell asked interrupting their mutual confusion.
Bobby was right behind him.
“It’s a spanking competition,” Spencer said.
“Really?” Bobby asked.
Spencer nodded.
“Who is getting spanked?” Darrell asked.
“Chad, Walter, and Triston if we can find anyone to do it,” Spencer said.
“I’ll do it,” Darrell said.
Ch 08 - Take My Husband, Please
Spencer found himself headed to Chad’s apartment feeling nervous and embarrassed for all that had happened between them. He thought about Lucy knocking on the door and her husband Chad. He felt guilty. They were good people.
It was one of those actions he couldn’t justify to himself but found himself doing to see the outcome, to see just why she had stopped by the apartment. He walked down the long hallway to their door and stopped in front of it. He could hear her inside talking to someone, possibly Chad or maybe their daughter.
There was one quick thought to leave it, walk away, and possibly never see them again but he knocked anyway. Three quick raps, he cleared his throat and looked down the hall to where there was a window and a fire escape. He had always found himself curious about fire escapes on buildings when he was little because he didn’t live in the city. He had lived in suburbia.
The door opened and Lucy stood on the other side holding Grace wrapped in a towel. They had clearly come from the bathroom because there was a sweet odor of soap. Grace smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Hello there,” Lucy said.
She pulled the door open and invited him inside. He said hello as he looked around the apartment. The place was a little less orderly than he remembered it.
“You just caught us getting out of the bathtub. Why don’t you let me take Grace to her room then we can talk.”
Lucy walked away not giving him an opportunity to disagree. He looked around their place but didn’t hear or see evidence that Chad was home. He felt worse for having stopped by, for bothering them. He wanted to tell Lucy that he needed to leave. He wanted to tell her he had only a few minutes, that he didn’t know what he was doing there in the first place.
When she emerged from the hallway looking to him with need he found himself disarmed of doubt and want. Instead he suddenly thought about what she needed.
“Chad has been really busy this week and I’ve been job hunting on the computer. We could really use the second income you know, just part-time like teaching or something.”
“Right,” Spencer agreed.
She began to move about the apartment picking things up, replacing things. He thought to join her, help her in some way, but he didn’t know where anything belonged. And he had arrived at the perfect time when Chad was out. He could be back any minute.
“So uh, you stopped by the apartment, downstairs,” he said.
“Oh right,” she said. “I don’t know what kind of scene I walked in on but I have to say that was the first time I saw a grown man in diapers who wasn’t pledging a fraternity.”
Spencer looked away to the window drapes, the window frame, he thought about the fire escape.
“Chad told me where you guys lived and I thought, I don’t know...”
“What?” he asked.
“Well, let me get you a glass of wine,” she said. She moved away to the kitchen before he could decline and she got out two glasses, retrieved a bottle from the fridge and carried it to the sofa where she sat. She signaled for him to sit in the recliner which he did.
“I don’t actually live there,” Spencer found himself saying. “Not that, I mean, I spend a lot of time there but I’m not, you know, I mean I’m gay but...”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “If you only knew.”
If I only knew what, he asked himself.
She poured two glasses of wine. He took one and she took the other.
“Chad doesn’t have many friends his age. He goes out drinking with guys from the force but most of them are older. They harass him a lot for being new and being young. He’s not enough of a hard ass for them. He told me about you guys and I don’t know it just seemed like maybe you could have something in common. He’s really a gentle soul. He reads books and I drag him to the theater. He says he likes it.”
“Uh,” Spencer said.
“He’s probably the gayest straight man you’d ever meet. He’s a what you call it? He’s a metrosexual.”
Spencer found himself at once insulted and humored by her words. He thought about what everyone would say. He thought about them spending time together. Do I have a play date? What could I do with him? I’d like to-- he forced the thought from his mind but it came back again as he thought of the man’s muscled arms-- he smiled.
“What do you think?”
“Sure,” he said. “We could give it a try.”
It was one of those actions he couldn’t justify to himself but found himself doing to see the outcome, to see just why she had stopped by the apartment. He walked down the long hallway to their door and stopped in front of it. He could hear her inside talking to someone, possibly Chad or maybe their daughter.
There was one quick thought to leave it, walk away, and possibly never see them again but he knocked anyway. Three quick raps, he cleared his throat and looked down the hall to where there was a window and a fire escape. He had always found himself curious about fire escapes on buildings when he was little because he didn’t live in the city. He had lived in suburbia.
The door opened and Lucy stood on the other side holding Grace wrapped in a towel. They had clearly come from the bathroom because there was a sweet odor of soap. Grace smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Hello there,” Lucy said.
She pulled the door open and invited him inside. He said hello as he looked around the apartment. The place was a little less orderly than he remembered it.
“You just caught us getting out of the bathtub. Why don’t you let me take Grace to her room then we can talk.”
Lucy walked away not giving him an opportunity to disagree. He looked around their place but didn’t hear or see evidence that Chad was home. He felt worse for having stopped by, for bothering them. He wanted to tell Lucy that he needed to leave. He wanted to tell her he had only a few minutes, that he didn’t know what he was doing there in the first place.
When she emerged from the hallway looking to him with need he found himself disarmed of doubt and want. Instead he suddenly thought about what she needed.
“Chad has been really busy this week and I’ve been job hunting on the computer. We could really use the second income you know, just part-time like teaching or something.”
“Right,” Spencer agreed.
She began to move about the apartment picking things up, replacing things. He thought to join her, help her in some way, but he didn’t know where anything belonged. And he had arrived at the perfect time when Chad was out. He could be back any minute.
“So uh, you stopped by the apartment, downstairs,” he said.
“Oh right,” she said. “I don’t know what kind of scene I walked in on but I have to say that was the first time I saw a grown man in diapers who wasn’t pledging a fraternity.”
Spencer looked away to the window drapes, the window frame, he thought about the fire escape.
“Chad told me where you guys lived and I thought, I don’t know...”
“What?” he asked.
“Well, let me get you a glass of wine,” she said. She moved away to the kitchen before he could decline and she got out two glasses, retrieved a bottle from the fridge and carried it to the sofa where she sat. She signaled for him to sit in the recliner which he did.
“I don’t actually live there,” Spencer found himself saying. “Not that, I mean, I spend a lot of time there but I’m not, you know, I mean I’m gay but...”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “If you only knew.”
If I only knew what, he asked himself.
She poured two glasses of wine. He took one and she took the other.
“Chad doesn’t have many friends his age. He goes out drinking with guys from the force but most of them are older. They harass him a lot for being new and being young. He’s not enough of a hard ass for them. He told me about you guys and I don’t know it just seemed like maybe you could have something in common. He’s really a gentle soul. He reads books and I drag him to the theater. He says he likes it.”
“Uh,” Spencer said.
“He’s probably the gayest straight man you’d ever meet. He’s a what you call it? He’s a metrosexual.”
Spencer found himself at once insulted and humored by her words. He thought about what everyone would say. He thought about them spending time together. Do I have a play date? What could I do with him? I’d like to-- he forced the thought from his mind but it came back again as he thought of the man’s muscled arms-- he smiled.
“What do you think?”
“Sure,” he said. “We could give it a try.”
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