Chapter 4
"Tadescu, what the hell you doing!?"
Ion jumped up from the practice mat. "Coach?" He scanned the room for the source of the voice.
"Wrong again, Romanian rugrat!"
The laughing face of Dennis Wu popped up from behind the pommel horse.
"Denny, you are an asiatic shithead!"
"I can relate to 'asiatic', although I prefer the term 'Chinese-American'. But what was that other technical term you used?"
"Shithead! Shit-for-brains! Shitass! You sounded just like Mr. Hall. You scared me!"
"Yeah, my repertoire of coaches' voices gets better every day, doesn't it?"
"Beast." Ion grabbed up his sweatshirt from the parallel bar where he'd thrown it.
"All that as it may be, what the hell were you doing?"
"Practicing my floor routine, obviously."
"Bullshit. You can't fool me. I've seen your floor routine. Your floor routine is a thing of beauty. What you were just doing was a thing of beastly. So to speak. Man, I'm telling you, don't go up on the rings if you're that far out of it today. You're gonna fall down, go boom."
"It was not that bad. Was it?" Ion peered up shyly at his taller friend and teammate.
"Yes. Seriously. You were a thousand miles away. Something wrong?"
"No. I am just finding it difficult to concentrate today."
"Uh, uh. You've been like this for a week, buddy."
Ion looked away. Slowly his chin fell to his chest. He watched his toes wiggle, scratched his thigh. Said nothing.
"Come on, sit down, man." The larger athlete led the way to the bleachers, sat, and beckoned the other to join him. The two men were alone in the cavernous fieldhouse. Each had come in to catch some extra practice. They had the building to themselves until the next class period.
"You remember when you transferred in last spring? Coach asked me to show you around 'cause you didn't know anybody? Or anything, I figured, as soon as I heard your funny bohunk accent. Fresh off the boat. You remember what was the first thing I said to you?"
"Of course. You told me that you were gay. You said that you just wanted to get that settled at the beginning."
"'Right off the bat,' is what I said. But you got the idea. And what was the first thing you said to me?"
"I don't remember."
"Yeah, you do. You remember. You said 'So what?' It was probably the only American slang you knew, back then. 'So what.' The way you said it, too. I really knew you didn't give a damn if I suck cocks. I dunno. Maybe coming from Europe you don't know how rare that attitude is over here. Or at least you didn't back then." Wu's broad face broke into a grin. "And then you looked me up and down like you were getting ready to buy a horse. I remember I didn't have my top on, just my workout shorts. And you said something about how could such a strong man be gay, weren't gay men sissies?"
"I am sorry, still. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
"Hey! You didn't! Don't you remember, I almost busted a gut laughing. Man, you were so green. Anyway, I knew we were gonna be friends if you wanted to have a friend. And I was right, huh?"
"Yes." Ion smiled. "You went out of your way to put me at ease. And to show me everything I would need to know about the school and the gymnastics program, and the town and, well, everything, I guess. And you did not try to assault me sexually. You said I was not your type. And you have never given me reason to doubt your words." He fell silent for a moment. "If I may be permitted to quote myself, 'So what?'"
"Okay. So I'll quote myself, too. Make it real clear. You are not my type, Ion Tadescu. Got that?" The muscular, oriental youth was completely sober now. He faced his friend, eye to eye, nearly chest to chest.
"You have made that plain enough before. Why do you tell me again?"
"So you won't misunderstand me when I say I love you. Because I do love you. You're the best friend I've ever had. I feel like you're some kind of combination of friend and brother." He paused, in thought. " I'm tryin' to say I'm here to listen. 'Cause I know there's something wrong, little guy." Wu's hands grasped Ion's upper arms, willing his sincerity to come through in his touch as well as his words and his piercing gaze.
Ion met that gaze, his own troubled. Then he slowly fell forward the inches needed for his face to rest against Wu's chest. He sighed softly, relaxed. Ion's hands came up to rest lightly on either side of the other man's torso. He could feel the easy play of the latisimus muscles under the thin shirt as Wu breathed.
"Thank you, Denny. I need a friend."
Dennis raised one hand, cupping it around Ion's curly head, holding him to his chest. He felt a shudder go through the wiry frame in his arms. And felt dampness seeping through his shirt. He lifted Ion's chin and saw the tears quietly trickling from the sky blue eyes.
"God, little brother. Is it that bad?" he asked, softly.
Ion pulled himself up straight, steeled his expression, stared into Wu's concerned eyes. "Denny, I am now also a cocksucker."
Color fled Wu's sallow face, turning it a mottled flaxen hue. "Oh, Jesus, Ion. Not AIDS?!?"
"NO! Oh, no, Denny, no! No, it is not anything like that. Look at you! Dammit, I have given you a scare and you have given me nothing but kindness. Please forgive me - I am selfish and foolish."
Wu sucked in a deep breath, whooshed it out. "No, man. Not to worry. Just a momentary heart attack. I'll be fine in a week or two." He snorted in infectious laughter. "Hey, okay, then. Anything else we can work with, buddy. What is the trouble then, if it isn't a health thing?"
Tadescu thought a moment. "Denny, you have told me that I am not your type. But you have not told me what your type is. Can you tell me that or should I not ask?"
"Yeah, I guess you can ask. I think you're trying to change the subject, but okay. What's my type..." He thought. "Funny, you know, people always say somebody's not their type, but most of the time they don't really have a type. Not just one type, I mean. It's more like that one particular person just doesn't happen to turn you on, you know what I mean? The spark isn't there for whatever reason. That's what I meant when I said it to you. And it isn't any criticism or anything. It's just, there is a spark or there isn't. Is this making any sense to you?"
Ion nodded. "Yes. I think so. You don't really have a physical type of man who always and invariably turns you on, as you have put it?"
"I wouldn't go that far. Yeah, maybe. I guess it's fair to say I get weak in the knees when I see a tall guy with a greyhound build - slim, but muscular. And hung, of course." Wu laughed. "But sometimes I've been turned on by short, stocky guys. Go figure. Not much help, is it," he said ruefully. "So how's this relate to what's happenin' in your little corner of the world?"
"I am new at this, so I am not absolutely sure, but I think I have a type. And my type has only one man in it. I have seen this man and at once felt as you said. Weak in the knees. And with a flutter in my stomach that is not at all comfortable."
"Yeah. Oh, yeah. I sure know what you mean. So you saw this man, and then what happened?"
"Nothing for a long time. I did not know what I was feeling, only that I felt something strong. And then one day last spring I went into a certain restroom..."
"Social science building? Second floor?"
"Yes! How did you know? No. Never mind. Of course it is famous. That is why I went there. To be honest I went there many times. But I never did anything but wash my hands and hope. Then one day when I entered the room I saw that he was seated on one of the toilets. His trousers were below his knees. He wore a red tank top, and, I guess, some kind of shoes." Ion laughed, color rising in pink clouds over his high cheekbones.
"I don't remember looking much below his calves, which were huge! But in fact I really saw little other than his sexual parts. Oh Denny, he is so big! I did not stop to think or reason with myself or argue myself out of taking action. I think I was on what you would call 'autopilot'. I just went into his stall and fell onto my knees. I saw my hand reach out and grasp his penis and pull it toward my mouth. It was the only thing in the world for me to do at that moment. I remember the feel of it in my hand, and on my lips. And the taste, too. He had urinated, and there was a little drop left. Salty and completely strange. I was lost in a fog of strangeness. Not thinking, you understand? Only feeling and acting. Never had I done such a thing." Ion fell silent, remembering.
"Okay. I get the picture. No need to go into details, unless you want to."
"All right. Yes. I guess it is sufficient to say that I pleased him. Two times."
"You're shitting me!"
"No. And then someone came into the restroom, and I fled instantly. It is fortunate that it was nearly the end of the semester. In fact it was the week of final exams. I had little time to think back on the episode. And yet I believe I did little else but think on it. When I had finished exams I went back to my uncle's home in Georgia for the summer. There I worked as hard as I could, not only to please my uncle, but to forget. Or rather to learn how to remember perfectly, but without wanting. Do you know what I mean? Without yearning."
"So? What's wrong with yearning? You had a good time, and obviously he did, too. Why not yearn? And plan for the future?"
Tedescu's face fell. "Denny, he is a straight man. Not gay. For him it was a pleasant experience. A 'hauling of the ashes'. Not something to repeat." Ion sighed deeply.
"Yup. That's a problem, all right. So, over the summer you figured out how to compartmentalize it. Enjoy the memory, but get over the ache. Right?"
"Yes. Exactly. I returned to school three weeks ago in pretty good shape, I think. Ready to put all my energy into gymnastics. You know, it is the source of my tuition funding - an athletic scholarship which I was lucky enough to acquire."
"Whoa. 'Scuse me. Time out, here. This school was lucky enough to 'acquire' you, bub. You were already famous in Romania before your uncle got you out of there. And you've already got a couple of product endorsements. As well as being the absolute number one draft choice for the next Olympic team. Just want to set the record straight. You are one very modest fellow, young Ion. Okay. End of interruption. So, you got back feelin' pretty okay, but now you don't. So, go on with the story."
"I lied to myself. I was not all over with the ache or the yearning. As soon as I arrived on campus I returned immediately to the same restroom. And there was a miracle. The man had left a message for me taped to the wall of the same stall. He did not know my name, but he addressed the message with an endearment which he had used during our passion, so I knew that it was meant for me. He told me of an experience, a sexual experience, he had had during the summer. He wrote that he wished he had shared the experience with me instead of that other person. And he said he would like to see me, to continue where we left off. He knew that I knew who he was, and he told me to call him if I was interested."
"You called, of course."
"I became erect as I read his message. The same fog of unthinking flooded over me. I went to my dormitory room and called him, right in front of my roommate. Oh, I spoke circumspectly, but without shame. I told him I would meet him whenever he wished. I think I begged him to meet me that same night. He agreed. I have been seeing him regularly since then. Our sexual activity is sublime. But I do not dare to let him know that I have any interest beyond what is simply physical. I desire him so much that I think I will go crazy, and I can not tell him. Unless I wish never to see him again." The silent tears began again.
"So. You're in love. Unrequited love. I get it, now. That's one of the worst pains there is, all right. Shit, man." Wu pulled Ion back into a firm embrace, trying to pump his empathy into the shaking youth.
"Wait a minute. Let me think, here. You said you've been seeing him 'regularly'. What do you mean by regularly? Now I do want some details. How often? How long? What do you do?"
"I get on my knees and take him in my mouth and..."
"Yeah, yeah - oral stuff. I got that. What else?"
"I, er, I lick the sweat from his body."
"Hey, right on! And then?"
"Is that not enough?" Ion looked bewildered.
"Damn right, it's enough. It's fine. Some folks never get that much. But I'm trying to get the whole picture." Denny stared at the floor, eyes flicking back and forth as he pondered. "You lick the sweat - for that he's gotta have his clothes off. Yeah? He's got his clothes off?"
"Yes. Surely. I do not pull his penis out from a tiny slit in his trousers to service him. Of course he has his clothes off."
"Okay! What about you. You naked, too?"
"No. I have not presumed to take my clothes off. Nor has he asked me to. Why should he? What is my body to him? I told you he is straight, and not interested in such things. He wishes only for the comfort my mouth can give him."
"Man, I'm not so sure about that. Next question: does he do anything oral to you? Suck, lick, kiss, anything?"
"No! Of course not!"
"Of course not... Hmmm. Okay, that's what you do. When? How often?"
"Since the semester started, nearly every evening. And on the weekends, sometimes we spend the day together. He runs every day, and I have been invited to run with him. Which I do, of course. I would do anything to spend time with him. Yet every minute is nearly as painful as it is pleasurable."
"Wait a minute! Wait a minute! You run with him? I saw you goin' by a couple of days ago, jogging with Dak Rollins. I meant to ask you how you happened to know the great man himself, but I forgot about it. You aren't telling me you're sucking off the Heismann Trophy?!?" Wu's face showed his amazement.
"No," Ion said, soberly. "That would be silly. I am sucking off the man who will win the Heismann Trophy. That is considerably more rewarding." Both men broke up in laughter.
"Hey, all right. If you can still laugh, you ain't dead yet."
Tadescu sighed again, lighter this time. "I guess you're right. Hmmph! Only you would consider having sex with a trophy." He glared reprovingly at the Asian man. Then broke into chuckles again.
"Listen, Ion. I wanna think about this some more. But just for starters, I'm thinking that a man who sees another man almost every day for purposes of sexual activity, and bloody well takes off all his clothes to do it, ain't all that 100% straight! I'm thinking maybe the guy is either using you to get his rocks off, in which case he's a total prick. Or... "
"Or?"
"Or, I'm not sure. Searching for himself, maybe. Trying to find out where he's at. And doing it with somebody who he likes. Maybe a lot."
"Denny, do you think that's possible? Really?" Dawning hope brightened Ion's pale countenance. "I am afraid to let myself believe it."
"Look, you're hurting already, so what've you got to lose by hoping?"
"Yes... I guess so. How much more can I hurt?"
"And, here's a thought. The next time you're with Dak, take your shirt off. You probably been wearing your sweats, right?" Ion nodded. "Uh, huh. Thought so. Listen, feller, you have a perfect physique. No, don't argue. You've been a gymnast since you got out of the cradle. Let the guy see what you got. Even if it doesn't help your situation, it sure as hell can't hurt it. And you're gonna be a whole lot more comfortable while you're doin', uh, what you're doin'."
"Doing him." Ion grinned.
"Damn right! By the way, is there any truth to the rumor he's hung like a horse?"
"No."
"Oh, hey, sorry man. I shouldn't have asked." Wu blushed.
"You can ask me anything, Denny. I only meant that horses aren't as big."
"Romanian ratfuck!" Wu roared with laughter and lunged at Tadescu.
"Asiatic shithead!" Ion dodged, and swiped back at his friend.