Hola, and welcome back. The disclaimers keep applying. Donate to Nifty, please. Always be safe.
Marty and Rich have reached the point in their young lives where they decided it was time to come out to their parents. Rich's parents saw their confession one way. Marty's father saw his son's coming out in a different way, a way that would have devastating results for Marty.
I love hearing from you. Douglas at thehakaanen@hotmail.com
CHAPTER 20 COMING OUT
Rich and Marty had made their decision to come out to their parents right after the start of the New Year. But they weren't the only gay boys in Mayfield to come out between New Year 's Day and the start of baseball season. Two pairs of boys would come out on their own volition and two pairs would have their relationships found out in an unfortunate manner. For three of the four couples being out would involve some undesired consequences.
The first pair to come out was Marty and Rich. New Year 's Day that year was on a Thursday and the two teens decided to take the plunge on Friday the second.
<Friday, January 2, Rich's house>
[RICH]
Marty and I talked all vacation about the whole coming out thing. Most of the time we were sure we were going to do it, but sometimes we weren't so sure, and a couple of times we said we were going to forget all about it and just be good friends and bed buddies who mess around with each other. Marty was getting as wishy-washy about being boyfriends and coming out as I had been.
I was surprised Marty wanted to come out. I was surprised I wanted to come out. For one thing, I wasn't always sure what I was coming out to. I mean, I loved Marty and I knew I liked the sex, but I didn't know if that meant I was gay. I didn't spend much time drooling over other boys as the twins or Eric or Noah or even Marty did.
I liked going out with Trish for almost a year even if we never did more than kiss and feel each other up some. She only came to my house three times, and that was the only times we took any of our clothes off. I wanted to get naked a couple of times, but she didn't, which was cool. She did feel up my dick, but she didn't let me get my hands inside of her panties. I could do anything I wanted with her boobs, even if they weren't very big yet. We were both almost fourteen and we didn't have a clue what to do. I'd had a lot of sex with Marty and my brother Mikey and his friends. I found out later that Trish had had a lot of sex with Michelle. Not as much as me, since I've done butt sex with Marty and my brother and once with Chandler, but they did a lot of things naked together. When we broke up she had no problem telling me she was breaking up because she was a lesbian.
That brings it all back to Marty and me. I didn't tell Trish I was gay, well, because I didn't know I was gay, or couldn't admit I was gay, or something like that. But I know that when Marty was out drinking and drugging and being an all-around asshole, I really missed him. But I wasn't going to tell him that then because I hated him, while at the same time I missed him. But now, we finally decided we really were gay and wanted to be boyfriends. We knew we were in love with each other and wanted my parents to know it. We also knew we were ready to tell them.
Marty celebrated New Year's Eve at my house and spent the night. When the New Year arrived we kissed each other in front of my parents and Mikey, but we did it like it was really yucky and we did it only because the New Year was starting.
Right after that we went to my room and let Mikey watch us kiss for real. He knew we were boyfriends and there was no way he was going to out us. Marty sucked him off and then he went to his room to sleep. He's always happy when we include him in some of our sex stuff, and sometimes we even let him sleep with us. But when we told him we wanted to do something alone he would leave and let us because he knew we'd keep him happy again some other time. I'm pretty sure Mikey isn't gay, but he's eleven and he is getting mass hormones starting and he loves doing sex stuff.
On New Year's Day we watched football with dad and Mikey and his best friend Drew, who came over right around noon. Sometimes mom watched with us, but she wasn't big on football unless Mikey or I were playing. Marty and I had agreed we didn't want to mess up the holiday and that we would come out on the second day of the year.
Marty and Drew spent the night and spent it in my room. I partnered up with Drew and Marty paired up with Mikey. There was a lot of sucking and finger fucking and other stuff that went on. They weren't real big on getting dicks up their asses, but they liked the rest of the stuff. I have enjoyed by brother's ass more than once, but he has to be in the right mood.
The next morning we had breakfast—pancakes, eggs, and bacon, all cooked up by mom who loves doing the cooking thing. Marty and I agreed that we would do our thing in the morning, which would give him time to go home and talk to his family. We helped put the breakfast stuff away and I told mom and dad that Marty and I needed to talk to them about something serious. That got us a couple of looks, but they said whenever we were ready to talk, they were ready to listen. That's how my parents were; they were pretty strict, but pretty cool too.
"What about me?" Mikey said, almost with a whine. "Do I get to listen, too?"
"You know what we're going to talk about already," I told him.
"I do? Well, since I already know, I can listen even better."
He had a point and I couldn't think of any reason for him not to sit in. It was a family chat after all, and he sure wasn't going to be freaked out by it.
Even though there was football on TV, it was turned off. Sports were big in my house, but they didn't rule us. Marty and I sat close to each other on the couch, but we didn't touch. We'd agreed on how we were going to sit and when we would touch each other. I had my ideas on how to do it and Marty went along with them.
"They're your parents; you know how to deal with them better than I do," he said.
Dad sat in his big chair and mom sat in her rocking chair. Mikey found his favorite spot on the floor and lay on his stomach.
"Well, boys, what kind of news do you have that's so important?" dad asked. "I trust you haven't gotten yourselves into some kind of difficulty." I don't know why it is, but parents always seem to expect the worst, even when you're a good kid. And Marty and I were good kids. Of course Marty had a reputation, so maybe they were thinking of that. I knew they liked Marty a lot, but he was supposed to be this wild boy.
"Nobody is in trouble", I said, although I wondered if we might be in trouble really soon. My heart was pounding hard. This seemed pretty easy when we talked about it, but now that it was for real it suddenly got really scary. What if my dad rejected me? I thought. What if he says I can't be friends with Marty any more? This and all kinds of other thoughts went racing through my head.
I grabbed Marty's hand. This wasn't the spot where we planned to hold hands, but I couldn't help it. I needed to feel my boyfriend in order to open my mouth and go on.
"Um...well, you see...um, it's about me and Marty and us being, like, you know...um..." Boy was I feeling like a total dork; I couldn't get my mouth to say what I wanted it to say.
"Come on son, out with it, it can't be that bad," my dad said.
Oh yes it can, I thought. I took another deep breath and tried again. "Marty and me, we're...um..like..."
"He's trying to say him and Marty are gay and are boyfriends," Mikey said, his high pitched voice drilling a hole right through me. If I ever wanted to kill my little brother it was right then, even if he said exactly what I was trying to say and couldn't. Well, there was no turning back now.
"Mikey, quit kidding around and let your brother say what he wants to say," dad said.
"That was what I was trying to say." The words seemed to come out easier now that Mikey had said what I was going to say.
"Excuse me?" mom and dad said at exactly the same time. Then dad went on before I could say more, "You two are boyfriends?"
I could feel Marty squeeze my hand as I nodded yes.
"But that can't be," mom said. "I would have known. I couldn't have a gay son."
"Sorry mom," I said quietly, "but you do have a gay son."
"Let's not go jumping around hanging labels and making conclusions. I don't know of any fourteen year olds in the ninth grade who can honestly say they're gay. What makes you think you are?" That sounded weird to me, since I knew dad didn't know very many fourteen year olds in any grade.
"Because I love Marty and he loves me and that's the way it is."
It was then that mom really noticed us on the couch. "Don, they're holding hands."
Dad shook his head and said that he simply didn't believe all of this. "Hell of a way to start a new year. Hell of a way."
"Are you mad?"
"No, son, I'm not mad. I love you and I support you, I just think you're too young to know what you are."
"If I had a girlfriend, you wouldn't say I was too young to know I was a straight kid. You wouldn't even think about it."
"You make a point. Maybe it might take your mom and me some time to accept what you two apparently have accepted already."
"Don't worry dad," Mikey piped in, "I'm not gay."
"Mikey, hush up for a bit," mom said.
We talked back and forth for a while, but I could tell mom and dad weren't mad and that they didn't hate me or Marty. I was starting to feel a lot better. Then dad started to grill Marty with questions. Marty had been really quiet during all of this and being quiet is not how Marty usually is.
"Have you talked to your parents about this?" dad asked Marty.
"No. I'm going to later today."
"How do you think they'll react?"
"My mom should be okay. It takes a lot to set her off. My dad, probably not so great."
"I feel strange asking this--I mean a dad usually interviews the boyfriend of his daughter, not the boyfriend of his son, but isn't one guy usually the girl or something in a relationship like this?"
"Dad, we're both boys."
"Yeah they are," Mikey piped in again. I wondered why I decided it was okay for him to be part of this. He got a real dirty look from mom and dad both.
"That's all you need to know; we're both boys."
"I'll leave it at that. I assume to two of you have been sexually active."
We said we were and thankfully he didn't push that any farther. But he did continue his interview of Marty.
"Marty, you've got a bit of a reputation in this town. I've never witnessed any of it, but word does get around."
"Reputation?" Marty asked, trying to look innocent.
"Heavy alcohol and drug use is the word around town, although I have seen no evidence of it or you wouldn't be sitting here."
"Sir (I liked how he said `sir'), that word is not completely true." I was waiting for the Marty blowup. He has a way of getting really mad when he gets backed in a corner, and it looked like dad was backing Marty into one. "First, I only smoked pot so it's wrong about heavy drug use. And second, I drank a lot, and I mean A LOT. I'm an alcoholic and always will be, so the word was right about that. But I haven't had a drink or used any kind of drug in a year. Yesterday was my first sobriety birthday. My drinking is why me and Rich split up." Whoa, he did that very reasonably. Well, Marty can be very reasonable when he wants to be. In fact that is how he is most of the time now that he doesn't drink. So far I was very proud of my boyfriend.
"So, you're never going to drink again?" dad asked. I really wanted to tell dad to lay off. I mean Marty was good so far, but there is no use in giving a caged lion a reason to get mad.
"All I can say is, I won't drink today. I'll work on tomorrow when tomorrow comes."
"So, you wouldn't, say, keep sober because Rich wanted you to."
"Nope. The only person who can keep me sober is me. I gotta do it because I want to. But Rich will be there to help me. He helps keep me sober, but it's not the reason I don't want to drink."
"Even though you say you love him?"
"Yep."
"Then what is the reason?"
"Like I said, I am an alcoholic. Drinking will wreck my life like it almost did while I was using. Drinking will kill me, and it came close the last time I had a drink. The reason is because I am sick with a disease and only not drinking will keep me healthy."
The room was quiet for a few moments. Mom is the one who talked first. "Those were some very good answers, Marty. You sound very mature."
"I concur," dad said. "I don't totally accept all of this, but I want Rich to be happy, and Marty to be happy. I'll do what I can to support you two."
Mom said the same thing and that was pretty much how it went. Dad said it would take him time to get used to me and Marty being boyfriends and he said we were both young and only freshmen in high school and for us not to get locked into thinking we were gay. Marty and I both kept our opinions about being locked in to ourselves. The next thing we knew it was time for lunch. After lunch Marty said it was time for him to go home. I knew Marty was not looking forward to step two. We talked about putting it off, but Marty said he had to do it today or he'd chicken out.
Dad surprised us as Marty got ready to go. First, he apologized for offering Marty champagne just before the New Year started. He offered me and Mikey some, too, but I didn't have any because I knew Marty couldn't and because I just don't care for alcohol. Mikey drank his, being the little bug that he is. I know he got himself a little buzz, maybe even got a little drunk. Dad had set Marty's glass on the table and I set mine there, too, while he got us some cider. I watched Mikey empty those two glasses on top of his own. I think Mikey is going to be a middle school party goer, and I don't mean birthday parties at The Bear's either.
Anyway, dad apologized, saying he didn't know the complete story about Marty. Marty said it was cool and that he wasn't tempted to drink it since it was his first birthday. The second surprise was dad offering to drive Marty home and help him with his dad. I know I was surprised, and Marty told me later it was one of the nicest things anybody's ever offered him. That was when we both totally realized that while dad might be a bit confused and disappointed, he was on our side.
Knowing that gave us a good feeling. But, Marty said no, he needed to take care of this on his own. He wouldn't even let me go with him to hold his hand. Marty told me later why he needed to go it alone, but on that day I was a bit upset that I couldn't do for him what he did for me. But considering how it turned out, it might have been a good thing I wasn't there.
<Friday, January 2, Marty's house>
[MARTY]
I don't live that far from Rich, but the walk from his house to my house after lunch was the longest fucking walk of my life. Rich and his dad both said maybe I should wait until the next day. That sounded good, but I knew I needed to tell dad today. Otherwise, I'm afraid I'd chicken out and wait forever to tell him.
When Rich and his father saw I was going to tell dad about me being gay today, they said they would come with me and help me. Even Mikey offered to come along.
Rich knew what my dad was like, but his dad didn't. He just knew I was worried about what my dad was gonna say when I came out to him. I told them that I needed to do this by myself. I didn't tell them then that it was all about me not looking like a wuss to dad. I didn't want him to think somebody was holding my hand, or to think I needed an adult to back me up. Mr. B had offered to help me, too, and I said I had to do it on my own. He told me that was a mistake, that I would be stronger with the help of friends. I told him it was the best way for me. Turns out Sparky was right, like he usually is.
Of course there was no guarantee dad would be home. He had the day off and could be spending it at some tavern. He was an alky like me. That much I could understand, but I wasn't strong enough yet to do what Mr. B keeps telling me to do, and that was to forgive my dad and love him and understand that right now he was doing the best he could. All I knew was I didn't love him, I probably friggen hated him, and I doubted I could ever forgive him for the shit he's pulled on me the last couple of years. I guess that wasn't the greatest attitude to have in my head when I walked in the door of my house, but that was the way I was thinking.
Dad was home and he was even sober. Him and John were working on something in the garage, but I didn't go in there. I needed to do a couple of things before I talked to dad, and one was talk to mom. If dad was going to go all ballistic and shit, she better know what the reason was.
So, I told her I was gay and that me and Rich were boyfriends and she smiled and said she loved me. That was mom—hell, she even loved dad, and he was an asshole. So I'm sure her loving me was because I was her son and she loved me no matter what.
"Have you told your father?" she asked.
"Not yet. I plan to today. I wanted you to know first."
"What about your brother?"
"He already knows."
"And he still loves you?"
"I think he loves me even more since I told him."
"Good. But I think you would be better off not bothering your father about you being gay."
"And I think if I'm gonna live here with him, I gotta tell him."
"Marty, you know what your father is like. Your telling him scares me."
I gave my mom a big hug and she hugged me back real tight. "Mom, it scares me, too." I was shaking some when we ended the hug.
I went up to my room because I didn't want to come out in the garage with dad and John doing whatever they were doing. I used to think that one of my problems was that dad always liked John the best, but Sparky had me figure out that dad didn't know what to do with me because I didn't like most of the things he liked. I mean, building stuff in the garage just wasn't my thing, but dad loved doing that kind of shit and so did John. But I did like sports just like dad did, which didn't seem to make any difference.
John and I both played football. He played basketball in the winter and I played baseball in the spring. But dad acted like John was a star athlete and I was some kind of pussy who sits on the bench all the time. The thing is, I was a way better athlete than John was, but dad just didn't see it that way. Sparky says that since I'm not big on the hunting, building, drinking, and the whole macho being a man thing, dad figures I'm not much at sports either. Truth be told, I'd rather have mom show me how to cook than have dad show me how to toe a nail in some piece of wood, and dad knew it, which was one more thing between us, especially since mom wasn't all that great a cook.
So I lay on my bed trying to read, but I couldn't. I turned on my TV, but didn't give a fuck about that either. I didn't feel like getting up to turn on my laptop, so I grabbed Mortimer and held him while I looked up at the ceiling being scared. I said the Serenity Prayer a lot of times, but I don't think it helped much. I couldn't change dad, but I couldn't accept that, so I could only hope I had the courage to say what I needed to say.
When I heard John and dad come into the house I got up and went downstairs. John didn't know what I was planning to do, but he knew I was gay so anything I said wasn't gonna surprise him. Dad saw me and gave me that "Dad" look like he does when he's not happy with me, which is most of the time.
"Where the fuck have you been?" he asked.
"Hello to you, too." Shit. I can't believe I said that. The whole time was upstairs I said I was going to be calm and serene about this, just like Rich was with his dad after Mikey finally said what Rich wanted to say. Instead, the first thing I did was step right into a big pile of crap.
"I didn't notice you here New Year's Eve. Your brother and mom and me had a nice family thing together, and Tanner and Kristie were here, too. Sorry you were too important to join us." Kristie was John's girlfriend.
"I thought you'd be at some bar like you usually were. Mom said I could stay over at Rich's."
"I hope you at least got drunk. I mean you've been drunk every New Year since you was ten and last New Year's you outdid yourself, what with you ending up in the hospital."
This time I didn't take his bait and simply said that Rich's parents had some champagne, but Rich and I drank fruit juice. I didn't mention Rich's little brother getting a little drunk. What I didn't think of until it was too late was that I should have said apple juice instead of fruit juice because I left the door wide open for dad. He started laughing hard and I was trying to figure out why. I found out fast enough.
"Fruit juice. Shit, son that is priceless. Fruit juice on New Year's Eve for my fruity son and his...his BOY friend."
Nothing was going the way I planned it. Dad had a way of pushing my buttons and getting me off track, and he sure was doing that this time. Everything I planned to say and the way I planned to say it went right into the toilet. "You got something right for once," I said, my voice raising. "Rich is my boyfriend. Yep, I said it and I'll say it again—Rich is my boyfriend." I said it the second time real slow so he couldn't miss one motherfucking word. Damn, it got quiet in a hurry. Dad quit laughing like somebody flicked a switch and turned off his laugh machine. Mom looked like she wanted to hide and John tried to act like he was too cool for this scene.
"You mean he's your friend, like he's a boy who is your best friend; not that he is your boyfriend, right?" For all of dad calling me a faggot and saying Rich was my boyfriend, I could tell he didn't really believe it was true. He was just trying to get under my skin for not being the macho boy he thought I should be.
"What I mean is, dad, I am your worst nightmare. Not only am I an alky who can't drink like a man, I am a faggot, a fruit, a homo, a queer, I am a GAY BOY, and Rich is my boyfriend, as in my lover, my bed..." but that was as far as I got as dad took two steps toward me. I could see John getting ready to step in if he had to. But dad was sober and didn't get violent, even though it was close.
He stopped maybe three feet from me and he was breathing hard. His face was red like it got when he was wasted, only this time he wasn't wasted, but he was beyond pissed off.
"Get your ass out of my house. You are no longer welcome to live here," he said in a very quiet, menacing voice.
I give my mom credit for stepping in here. Usually she stood in the background and had her way. "He's our son. You can't just throw him out."
"I can and I will," he said, raising his voice. "I won't have no fucking faggot as my son...some pile of shit fudge packer. So you just shut- up because we just became a one child family. Now get the fuck out."
"Where will he sleep?" mom asked. "It's the middle of wint..."
"I said, shut-up. He's the fucking alcoholic; time for him to learn to sleep on park benches. But don't you worry your fool head off about it. He's got his little faggot boyfriend he can go butt fuck, or he can go stay with that asshole lawyer!" He took another step toward me, which got John to move in real close.
"Yeah, it's that fucking queer lawyer ain't it? He got you believing you were a drunk, now he's got you believing you're some kind of homosexual. I ought to sue his faggot ass. Fucking homos out recruiting people's kid's for their queer world."
I wanted to argue with him. Tell him how Mr. B had two kids, and how he was more of a dad to me than my own dad was because he fucking listened to me and taught me how to live. I wanted to tell him I've been gay since I was born. I wanted to tell him a zillion things, but I was totally out of energy. I knew I wasn't going to win and I knew I would never be listened to. All I wanted to do right now was leave, even if it meant sleeping on a park bench out in the cold rain.
"You got your wish," I said." I'm gonna go get my coat and leave."
"Marty," mom said, "you don't have to go." I could see that mom was crying.
"Yes he does. I'm going to the Roadside and drink with some serious men. I expect your sorry ass to be gone when I get home."
"And up yours you fucktard." Yeah, I know, I was being stupid, and I knew I was being stupid, but I had to get the last word in, no matter how stupid it sounded. Sparky says that comes from being fifteen. I knew dad would be all pissed about me saying I was gay, but I never expected him to kick me out of the house. As I stomped up the stairs, I could hear John yelling at dad not to follow me. I almost wanted him to follow me. I was fifteen and in shape and not the drunk kid the coward slapped around. I know I wasn't a fighter, but I was ready to take him on. Lucky for everybody, John stopped dad from coming upstairs.
After dad left, John came into my room and gave me a big, brotherly hug. "Sorry, bro. He'll cool down. He'll come back drunk tonight and won't even think to check that you're still here."
"He can check all he wants," I said, trying hard not to burst out crying all over my brother's shoulder. "I'm leaving. No way can I live here right now, not as long as he hates me."
"He doesn't hate you, Marty."
"Fuck he doesn't. You saw him. He hates my guts just like I hate his." I don't know if I really hated my dad, but I sure as hell didn't like him much.
John let go of me and took a step back. "Yeah, maybe a few days away will help. You gonna go to Mr. B's?"
"As soon as I call him and tell him I'm coming. I am never coming back, just like that fucker wants."
"Marty..."
"I'll miss you and mom, but not his sorry ass. I am never coming back. Never, never, never..." and that was when I grabbed my brother and cried all over him. He said nothing, but wouldn't let me go until I was ready. I hope I am as good to Jeffrey if things ever get tough for him as John was to me during those dark days. He was simply the best brother a boy could want.
I called Mr. B, who came to pick me up. I took my backpack with clothes for tomorrow and I took Mortimer. No way was dad going to get his grubby hands on Mortimer. That bear was like me—he was never going to return because my father hated both of us. Mr. B had often offered me safe haven and this time I took it.
Mr. B and I sat in the almost dark solarium of his house for a long time. We talked, I cried, we talked some more, and I cried a lot more.
"The cliché is that this too shall pass," Mr. B said. "But, that doesn't help much when you're fifteen and your dad kicks you out of the house you grew up in."
"I hate him. I hate every bone in his fucking body."
I thought Mr. B. would yell at me or something for saying that about my father. But all he did was tell me I was where I was supposed to be.
"What does that mean?" I asked. I could feel the tears flowing again. He didn't answer as I sobbed loudly, the tears blurring my vision. He got out of his chair and sat next to me on the couch. I leaned against him, smelling his cologne, craving his fatherly touch. I put my face on his chest and kept sobbing.
"It means, you are loved here. You will always be loved here. It's going to be okay, son, I know it hurts like hell, but it's going to be okay." Then I received what I wanted, I received the touch I'd seen him give Jeffrey and Sammy. I received the loving hug that a son should get from his father. Through my tears I understood that the love for me in this house was unconditional and that I was truly where I belonged.
I did return on Sunday. It was with Mr. B and Donald, and even Jeffrey, since dad said he wasn't going to be at the house. We came to clean out my room and take most of my stuff. Mr. B and dad had spent a long time talking yesterday. I was glad I wasn't there. John said it wasn't pretty, but it was agreed that I would live with Mr. B until things calmed down. Everybody thought that would be in a few weeks. Nobody thought that I would still be living with Mr. B in his little mother-in-law apartment when I graduated from high school. I know I ranted about never coming back, but deep in my heart I was sure I'd be back. It just never happened.
I only went to that house when dad wasn't there, and that was to see mom and John. Sometimes I had to go so mom could sign documents that needed a parent's signature, but that waited until dad was gone, too. Mr. B signed most of the BS stuff like late notes and absence excuses. I was hardly ever absent or late, so those notes weren't needed much.
When I moved in it was supposed to be temporary, so I lived in the guest room. But before baseball started in the spring, Mr. B showed how much he trusted me by letting me move into the little apartment. I thought that was beyond cool. I mean how many fifteen year old freshmen have an apartment of their own? Now Rich and I could spend a night together and not be bothered and not bother anybody.
I even decided to take up cooking. At the start of the new semester I enrolled in cooking class. I was not the only jock in the class, either. Rodney was in it too, and nobody was going to call him a fag. I think he enrolled because it was mostly girls and he wanted see how many he could hit on.
Whether it was good or whether it was bad, living in what was almost my own place made me grow up a lot, which I think was good. All I know was I had a family that loved me, and who I loved and was happy with. I sometimes wonder if I would have been able to stay sober living at home. My answer is usually no. This was another example of how my life had gotten so much better since I got sober.
At school Rich and I came out only to Eric and Noah and to Michelle and Trish, not that most of the guys couldn't figure it out. Keeping the fact that we were gay and that we were boyfriends quiet was going to be harder than we thought.
I remember how I hated my gay feelings for so long and how they ate me up. But now I started to work at becoming proud of who I was. Except for dad, everybody was in my corner. Having a boyfriend like Rich just made it that much better. Like I said, life just got better as I became a sober person and a person who lived a sober life. What a gift. Of course nobody said life would be perfect, and, as I would learn real soon, there would be more shit in my life that I would need to deal with. All that I've been learning in the last year would be tested even more.
Next: Scheming