Preface: This story is true except the name of one of the people involved has been changed. It describes an experience I had in the fall of 2005. If descriptions of male sexuality bother you or offends you, please read no further.
This story is the latest in a series about my sexual struggles as I have grown. Before reading this story, readers may be interested in first reading the other stories I have written in order:
Please be SURE to at least read this story before continuing: /nifty/gay/college/temptation-boy
the first about a relationship I had my senior year in high school. It may be read at any nifty.org site: /nifty/gay/camping/bobby-big-and-tight/
and then reading a story about my Freshman year in college at /nifty/gay/college/starved-for-attention
and then a story about my experience with a street hustler /nifty/gay/encounters/street-boi
and a story about my visiting an online friend /nifty/gay/encounters/doing-paul
and the first part of this story at /nifty/gay/college/temptation-boy
I also have one story where I tried my hand at writing fiction /nifty/gay/incest/soul-food
Please forgive me if portions of the following recounting of events lapse into an informal narrative style. When deciding whether or not I should follow up my last story with a timely update, given the circumstances, the thought of writing another "sex story" was too much to bear. Did I really want to trivialize the ramifications of my time with Kavan by making it just another porno tale?
After much thought, I have decided to lay it out on the line just as it occurred, warts and all, taking moments during the re-telling to step back and provide the personal commentary that I so desperately need to convey - which is, after all, the only reason I write about my life at all.
It took me ten days to get back in touch with Kavan after our intense physical dalliance at Shannon's apartment. He had sent along a number of increasingly anxious email and voice messages but I was reluctant to reply. Instead, for ten days I put my heart and soul into my relationship with Shannon.
It is so easy to forget the important part of relationships unless one pays particular attention to them. For instance, I once again started "listening" to Shannon and not just going through the motions of listening. I was surprised by how much I had been missing by having just one ear for her and another ear on the football game or on the radio. I learned that the stress of school was really affecting her. She had actual aspirations of a career someday (school stress was a concern of mine that only lived, it seemed, in the distant past). I was able to take this information and use it to build up what Shannon and I already had. My solemn duty for those ten days had been to smooth the edges of Shannon's world. She truly wanted for nothing: physically or emotionally. I was there for her to make her dinner, help her with her school work, a loving massage each and every night before going to bed. And this emotional intimacy paid dividends sexually, too (not that that was my goal). I think it is just a natural outgrowth of emotional intimacy that women become more sexually aware and, well, accommodating.
But for all the virtuousness of my new found dedication, it was done at the expense of a young man who remained angry and confused and in need of some sort of validation. On his voice messages, Kavan sounded tired and hurt; his emails strewn with question marks and run-on thoughts of self doubt.
For every ounce of energy I gave willingly to Shannon, I piled onto my own back the guilt of a wrong I was fearful to fix. Each message I heard or read from Kavan tore at my new conviction to never stray from Shannon's side again.
I finally thought it necessary for my own emotional health to do two things: tie up the loose ends with Kavan and then move on with my life with Shannon.
I've always found it interesting how mishaps come to be. I saw a documentary once about an airplane crash in the Everglades. It all started with confusion as to the meaning of dark yellow tags versus the light yellow tags used to determine whether oxygen canisters were full or empty.
One day, a helpful grounds crew member went out of his way to help load some empty canisters on the flight. Unfortunately, this eager young man was unaware of the subtle differences between the different yellow tags. When the oxygen filled tanks that he accidentally put on the plane shifted in flight, they punctured and a spark started a fire. It doomed the plane - and the hundreds on board - to a passenger cabin filling with deadly smoke and a damaged aircraft streaking down toward the soft mud of a swamp.
Damn that fucking grounds crew guy! And damn his good intentions!
It was Friday night and Shannon and I had split a bottle and a half of wine. I promised my mom that I'd watch my dad first thing on Saturday, so I couldn't stay over. When I got home, I grabbed two beers from the fridge and went up to my room to log some computer time, which actually translates into looking at dirty pictures. At some point, I don't quite know when, but perhaps while ogling some photo of an 18 year old twink with a tongue deep in his ass, I thought I would finally make things right with Kavan, say my final goodbyes to him, and get back to my life.
Porn, guilt, and beer, though, are not the ingredients to rational decision making.
"Email:
Hey friend, sorry about falling off the face of the earth the past week, I hope you accept my apology. Things got mighty busy here all of sudden and at the same time, I needed to take some time to think through some things. Even though I may seem to be some kind of 'old pro' at this stuff, most of my wild days are past and I like to think that I've become more thoughtful about what I get myself into nowadays. So if you have a bit of time this weekend, maybe we could get together and chat about "us" ... lol ... let me know what your days look like coming up.... Sorry again and thanks for sticking with me.
-- Jon
End Email"
It was the porn that made me think of Kavan, it was the guilt that made me respond to his urgent need for contact, and it was beer that made me use the term "us" so haphazardly.
When I awoke Saturday morning, I had a response from Kavan:
"Email:
Dude, dude, dude!!! I am so psyched you got back to me. I was beginning to wonder what I had done. No problem at all, though ... it's good to take time for thinking .. I am so pissed I can't see you this weekend; I'm going to New York with my mom to see a show and do 'city stuff' .. I soooooo don't want to go with her now!!! Can we hook up on Monday??! I'll be back late Sunday. LET ME KNOW, 'cause I've been doing some thinking about "us" too!! Lol lol. Hope Monday is good.....
tty Kavan
End Email"
We made plans to meet Monday afternoon after his two o'clock class. I was taking just one course this semester, in the mornings, so I always had a few hours to kill in the early to mid afternoon while a visiting nurse was around to care for my Dad. But I told Kavan that I only had about an hour to talk to him - hoping to keep it short and sweet.
Uncharacteristically, I was not as prepared for this interaction as I had hoped. My initial plan was to tell Kavan that this "was a difficult time in my life" given my family's situation and that I would not want to impress upon him any type of commitment that I was surely unable to live up to. My thought was that I'd ease out of Kavan's life with a constant barrage of conflicting schedules and family responsibilities that consistently required my personal attention. An email here and there to him could then drift off into nothingness in a few weeks time as he found his bearings and made his own friends. In this way, I would be able to extricate myself from this unpleasantness, spare his feelings, assuage my guilt and continue living happily along with Shannon.
I saw Kavan from across the Quad walking toward my car. He had quite a bounce in his step and was actually cuter than I remembered him from just two weeks before. He hopped in the car, leaned over and gave me a big kiss on the lips before stopping to even say hi.
As we made some small talk, I drove down campus to a little used parking lot near the football field. Even our brief discussion on the way down campus made me uneasy as he punctuated sentences with words like "we" and "us", and formed them into paragraph-long expressions of "things we should do" together. I parked the car back behind a dumpster being used for renovations on campus and left the engine running as we spoke.
I started off by saying, "I know I've been kind of a dick the last week or so and I just wanted to say I was sorry. The other night at my sister's was really amazing and that is why it's so hard for me to realize that - because things are so much up in the air at home -that there is no way I can take on the responsibility of a meaningful friendship with anyone right now. You know what I mean? I try to be there for my friends, but if I can't really do it, if I can only be half-a-friend then I don't even want to go down that road. It's kind of the way I am, I can't just do things half way... I have so many responsibilities that I really can't commit to being a good friend."
Kavan's face of worry gave way to a sincere smile. He put a hand on my thigh and said, "Hey, Jon. That is what friends are for. They're for sticking around and helping out even when the other friend can't give it his all, right? What good are friends when they are only available when things in life are perfect, right? I can only imagine how hard things are for you with your folks, and I'm gonna help you through it, even if all I can do is keep your mind off your troubles."
With the word "trouble" Kavan gave a gentle squeeze to the inside of my thigh, leaned over and kissed me. It wasn't a passionate, sexy kiss, but a kiss that said "I'm here for you."
I should have backed away immediately. I should have backed away and said, "Thanks, that means alot to me." And then I could just go to my plan of using family excuses to kill this baby of friendship in its crib.
But I didn't back away. What may have begun as a simple kiss of friendship grew more meaningful as are lips remained together. I could feel my heartbeat begin to quicken as the purely metabolic systems of sexual allure began to unleash. Ever so slightly, he opened his mouth and just a hint of his tongue crept between my lips to touch my tongue. Unthinkingly, irrationally, and completely naturally I invited him deeper into my mouth by spreading my lips further apart. Within half a minute we were in the middle of the passionate embrace of young, sexual desire.
For twenty minutes we kissed. Kissed soft, and kissed hard. We licked each other's faces. And breathed heavily into each other's ears. If it were not for the awkwardness of my front seat, I'm sure we would have fucked again right there. But it was Kavan who brought an end to our kisses by noting the time - mentioning that he wouldn't be a friend if he kept me from my family responsibilities.
After saying goodbye to Kavan, I stopped at home for a few hours and then left to spend the night with Shannon.
I had completely failed to deal with the situation that afternoon and began to think that maybe "letting him down easy" wasn't going to work after all. I reasoned that I would have to just stop communicating with him completely for now on. No emails. No calls. No replies. And I would do so no matter my guilt about. "Some folks just can't take a subtle hint," I thought.
That night, naked and in bed, Shannon said that I "seemed distracted".
For the first time in two weeks, though safely in Shannon's arms, my mind was elsewhere.
Kavan phoned and emailed me for two days and I replied to none of them. His messages were always the same, "Just checking in, don't feel that you have to get back in touch if you don't have the time... I just want you to know that I'm thinking about you. Hope all is well."
After a day or two, I just deleted the incoming messages without even reading them or listening to them. Perhaps if I ignored him, my plan figured, he would just go away. I was displeased then on Friday morning when leaving class that Kavan was waiting for me when I exited the building. I had figured that because of our disparate schedules, that Kavan and I wouldn't accidentally meet on campus, but I had not figured that he might actually seek me out.
Kavan said, "Hey, guess what? I'm skipping class today so we can go play hooky. I figured that with your schedule it seemed Fridays were your best days, so I thought we could have lunch or something."
Usually, I'm the best liar out there. Were I on my game, I would have been able to make up an excuse and deliver it with such earnestness that he would never have doubted my truthfulness for a moment. But instead, I looked blankly, devoid of any thought and the opportunity to lie passed. Anything now would sound like a lie, so I thought that perhaps grabbing something to eat at the Student Union wouldn't be a big deal.
"Okay, that would be good, but I only have an hour or so, then I really have to be on my way home," I said and started walking toward the SU.
But Kavan stopped me, saying, "I got a better idea, why don't we just eat at my mom's place? She just went shopping last night, she's at work now, and it's also on your way home. In case something comes up, you'll be closer to home than if we eat here."
Now what the hell was I supposed to say to that? I should have just told him "no" to lunch ... better yet, why did I ever talk to him during orientation week in the first place? Why did I go to Atlantic City with him? And, damn it, why did I ever fuck around with him? What had I been thinking?
As I followed him to his mom's place in my car, I got to thinking that maybe the only way this was going to work is if I was just honest with him. Yes, I lied to him at first about not being in a relationship (least of all with a girl) but maybe that would be the only way to make him understand that this "relationship" or whatever it was that he thought "we" had, had to come to an end. I decided that I wasn't going to leave that day without telling him about Shannon.
"The best laid plans of mice and men...."
I've always liked that phrase. It kind of hints that despite what order of animal or species we might be, fate, in all its wrath and power, has ultimate control. In some ways, fate allows us to make excuses for when our plans go astray. Worse sometimes we just get tired of fighting against fate and gives in.
Somewhere an overweight mouse is giving in to the cheese.... and it's just not his fault.
After lunch in his mom's kitchen, Kavan suggested we go downstairs to listen to some music. The basement was just as nice as the rest of the condo with couches and chairs, a little wet bar and stereo. Although, from the front of the townhouse, it looked like it was two stories, each townhouse was outfitted with a finished basement that featured a walk-out sliding glass door. Thousands of these types of town homes had popped up all over Jersey in the decades that saw farms giving way to suburban sprawl.
Once he turned on the music, I thought I'd break the news to him. "Kavan," I said, "Can I talk to you about something."
"Sure, but not yet. Let me do something first" he said. He motioned to the couch and said, "Sit on the edge there, I'm gonna give you a neck rub."
"No, I'm fine, really," I said weakly. I mean, who says "no" to a neck rub -- especially when you've told the guy for a week how stressed out you are?
I sat on the edge of the couch and Kavan climbed on the couch and sat behind with one leg on either side of me. From there he started to rub my neck and my trap muscles. I must admit that it felt really good. It was one of those times that I could have fallen asleep right then as all the tension in my upper body dissolved.
It was hard to even know where to begin with what I wanted to tell him. But what was the use anyway, because within a few minutes he was rubbing my biceps, my triceps, my lats and then reaching around to massage my chest muscles. My eyes were closed and my body felt weak. It wasn't much longer before his hands were under the front of my shirt and he was rubbing deeply but gently my chest, stomach and stroking the front of my neck.
Kavan lifted his arms, removing my shirt up an over my head. One hand went back to my chest, squeezing my nipples that were now hard and pointed. With his free hand, Kavan started to rub my crotch and I spread my legs apart to allow him more room to massage me. He began to unbuckle the belt on my jeans and without even thinking, almost as though I were on automatic pilot, I stood up and performed the task for him - kicking of my sneakers and removing my pants and underwear.
I sat back down between his legs and remembered how incredibly erotic it is to feel the clothing of a lover against one's own naked skin. There is something totally hot about the vulnerability of lying naked against another who is fully clothed. I laid back against Kavan - and his oversized sweatshirt - as he grabbed my dick and started to jerk me off. He nibbled and tongued at my ear, stroked my cock and played with my balls in silence for about five minutes before I could feel the muscles of my body begin to tighten in expectation. Once I started to cum, I thought it wouldn't stop. My cum spilled out of my cock more like piss than semen. My breath left my lungs so quickly that I thought I would pass out. I had made an awful mess - all over his hands, the couch, and the rug. But my body was so weak, I couldn't move. Kavan had to get up from behind me to get a towel and clean me up.
After I was dry, he gave me a long, passionate kiss on the mouth. When my lips were freed, I took a few deep breaths and said, "Kavan, I have something really important to tell you."
Once dressed, I sat on the couch beside Kavan and set out to finally tell him the truth. "Look, Kavan, I don't have a really good way of telling you what I'm about to say, so I'm gonna try to just say it and then figure out what it all means. I haven't been honest with you. It is important for you to know that I am not gay, I'm bisexual. The reason this matters is because I have a serious girlfriend."
Kavan said nothing, but his face expressed both shock and disappointment.
I continued, "I lied to you when I said I was gay, and I think I did it because I found you attractive. After we had sex, I realized that it wasn't fair to you or to my girlfriend to let this continue so I made up a bunch of stuff at to why I'd be too busy to see you anymore."
Kavan swallowed hard before saying anything, "So why are you telling me now?"
"I guess its because I think you deserve to know the truth, and unfortunately it also seemed that you were too nice a guy to let my busy schedule get in the way of our friendship" I kinda laughed and said, "If you were an asshole like me this would have been easier, but since you're not and you decided to hang around as my friend, the only way to deal with this was to be honest with you."
"Well, what does this all mean for me?" Kavan asked.
I took a deep breath and exhaled, "Kavan, I don't know. Obviously we can't keep going on as we have. Shannon is just too important to me to lose her because I can't keep control of myself. I'm really sorry I wasn't straight forward with you when I met you and I know I really fucked up."
Kavan was choking up a bit, "Jon, when I went to New York with my mom I spent the whole time thinking about you. When you said you wanted to talk about 'us' I guess I assumed that you meant it in a positive way, so it kind of let my mind build up an image of you, and image of us, that I guess really wasn't there. If you had just told me you had a girlfriend at the very beginning, it would have been okay. What did you think I would do if you told me?"
I thought about it for a moment, "Honestly? I know exactly what I was thinking - at least subconsciously. I probably thought that if I told you I had a girlfriend that I would not be able to get you in bed. I know that sounds harsh, but that is probably why I did it."
Kavan said, "This all makes me feel really stupid."
I interrupted him, "It shouldn't make you feel stupid at all. This was my fault, all my fault. You are a great guy. A really nice person. You're new here but you can find lots of great guys to be with. I promise - that will be the least of your problems. And I'm here, aren't I. Even though I'm a total dick, I can still be a good friend, right? Maybe we can put this in the past and start all over again? I still want to be your friend, even thought I don't deserve it, it would mean a lot to me."
Kavan looked me straight in the eye and said, "That would mean a lot to me, too."
I sometimes doubt the nature of Free Will in human affairs.
I think living one's life is more akin to a train on a railroad track. Sure, you can slow down, speed up, or stop, but you are still on that same track, headed in the same direction no matter how many times you change speeds.
The only way to get off the track is through accident or disaster. If you are lucky, after a terrible accident, a team of workmen will come along and cart you off to a different rail line. But more likely than not, they'll just prop you back up on those same damn tracks, headed in the same damn direction.
The only difference is that you're a little more damaged than before.
I was really pleased to get back to the normalcy of life without guilt. The drama of interpersonal conflicts was a drama I felt best left to the girls of a junior high school than it was to adults in the real world. The boredom of just living was often alright by me - no additional excitement needed.
For a few weeks, I would attend my morning class, meet up and have lunch in the cafeteria with Kavan a few times, spend my allotted hours caring for my dad, and, of course, spend my evenings and many early mornings with my Shannon.
Kavan appeared to quickly shed his disappointment of his heightened expectations of me and seemed to now take me for what I could be for him, a friend he count on.
After a few too many Student Union meals (and inappropriate jokes about tuna hoagies and foot-long hot dogs), we decided to go to Kavan's mom's place to raid her fridge for Chinese food left over from the previous night.
After eating, we went to the basement to listen to a couple of songs Kavan had downloaded and wanted me to hear. He was very much into finding new bands online and downloading the songs he wanted. I made mention that if he continued with the illegal downloads that he might end up in jail one day.
I added, "But then again, you might like it there. Picking up the soap in the shower might become habit forming for you."
Kavan responded, "I don't think I'd be the one to worry. I'd make someone my bitch pretty quick."
I laughed, "Yeah, right! I don't think you could fight them off for more than a minute, unless it was juvenile hall, then you might have a sporting chance to take down a twelve year old."
Kavan laughed and said, "Oh, yeah? I'll show you who can take someone down..." And with that, he barreled toward me tackling me down on the couch. I fought back and pushed him back up and over the arm rest and down onto the floor. I got up and he wrapped up my legs and pulled me down again laughing.
He crawled up on top of me and pretended to hump me, saying, "See? You're my bitch now." I flipped him off and scurried around quickly and now I was on top. I said, "Yeah, bitch, you aren't so tough now, huh? I think your ass would be pussy pretty quick even in juvie hall."
I slumped off him on to the rug next to him breathing rapidly, "Geez," I said, "I think I'm in the worst shape of my life."
Kavan moved nearer to me and put a hand on my chest, "No," he said, "I think you look just fine... friend." And he kissed me slowly on the lips. He rolled over on top of me and continued the kiss, rubbing his mid section against mine.
Lost again, I offered nothing in resistance.
Our cocks grew in size under our jeans as we churned them against each other. I grabbed onto his ass and pushed him down on top of me even harder. It was useless to object to something I wanted so much anyway.
"I have to get you out of these pants," I said to him as I sat up from the floor and lowered him downward so that I was now back on top.
I undid Kavan's belt and took off his pants, shoes, sock and t-shirt. "Do the same to me," I said as I beckoned the naked figure to come closer. Within moments of our play wrestling we were both now standing before each other, naked and kissing.
Kavan knelt to take my cock in my mouth, but just as his lips touched I pushed him gently away, and whispered, "No, we have to do this my way, please". I helped him get up and it was now me who knelt before him and took his dick into my mouth.
I grabbed his balls with one hand and worked them hard between my fingers and palm. I alternated sucking his cock with licking the length of his shaft. Once I began to taste pre-cum, I lifted my eyes to Kavan and asked him to sit down on the couch.
Kavan sat and I took some of the spit and pre-cum from the shaft of cock, put one foot up on the couch to open my cheeks and worked the slick mixture deep into my ass with my fingers. I knelt on the couch with a knee on either side of Kavan and grabbed onto to his erect prick, guiding it as I sat my hole down atop of it slowly. Once my ass fully enveloped his cock, I began to rock slowly back and forth, feeling my ass muscles clinging tightly to his dick. He moved to grab my cock, but again I told him"no".
I whispered, "I'll do it, just let me know when you're ready to cum."
After a minute, Kavan said in a breathy voice, "I'm gonna cum."
At that, I grabbed my own dick and started to beat myself off as I continued to rock back and forth on top of him. Kavan exhaled quickly and I could feel his body beginning to shudder beneath me. Once I felt him pumping cum inside me, I knew that the nature of this tandem excitement would take its course. By the time Kavan's cock had dumped its third squirt of cum up my ass, I, too, started to cum. My load shot up an over his shoulder landing in his hair above his ear, the next pump landing down around his neck and the trail of my slick silvery mess made its way, shining, down the front of his naked torso.
"Fuck that was good," I said and continued to rock atop his still thick cock.
The most powerful force known to man is not the energy that comes from the splitting of the atom; rather it is the force and power of people to rationalize their behaviors. Unconscious rationalization simply recreates a new, more forgiving context for poor behavior. Just a few weeks before, when I had felt so guilty of screwing around with Kavan, my ethical priority was "to maintain an honest, monogamous relationship with Shannon", but now that I was atop Kavan's hard cock, it seems I rationalized that old priority away with a new ethical priority, "to nurture important relationships with the people in my life".
The difference is slight but powerfully telling. Within the first priority, an ongoing sexual relationship with Kavan would have been unthinkable, but within my newly rationalized priority relationships with both Kavan and Shannon were not just thinkable but almost an ethical "good" -- after all, more relationships are better than fewer, right? The more we have, the more we are human, right?
I look back in great shame now, knowing that for the next three weeks I would begin to delude myself so much. Especially given that I had earlier fretted with such intensity over my first "mistake" with Kavan, it is particularly shameful that for three weeks I would feel no guilt whatever, in fact, I felt empowered and better than ever.
Amazingly (and sadly) my life fell into a pattern that felt too good to last. Three times a week, I'd head over to Kavan's for "lunch". We never ate, but instead played sex games as though we were twelve year old boys discovering their dicks for the first time. The sex games were filled with fun and laughter and always something new and kind of weird.
But one thing never changed; when it was time to get each other off it had to be done my way. I'd blow him for a bit and then we'd go to the couch where I'd mount him. I'd get him to cum and then I'd beat myself off at the same time.
Kavan thought this was weird and at first I didn't want to tell him what was going on, but soon I just had to tell him.
"I know this sounds stupid, but there are things that I'm just not comfortable doing given the situation," I said. "When it comes down to it, and this is probably weird, my dick belongs to Shannon, that's what I'm comfortable with. So its great that we can fool around but I'm not gonna let you get me off, that wouldn't be fair to her."
Of course, the whole thing sound preposterous in hindsight, but at the time I was completely serious, as though a sex act with another person outside a relationship could be consider acceptable so long as orgasm was achieved within a certain set of parameters.
However, these rules, or should I say rituals, made for interesting sex play. The prohibition on him touching my cock or nuts required us to use more imagination than partners in ordinary circumstances.
On one occasion, I spent most of our time on my knees sucking Kavan off as he lip-synched to *NSYNC songs. He pretended to be Justin singing in the nude as I licked his cock. When we finally ended up on the coach, Kavan kept singing while we came.
Another time, we curled up on the rug in a sixty-nine position and just explored each other's asses. It was so gentle and calm; it seemed we had all the time in the world to just pleasure each other by discovering what turned us on most in this one, single erotic part of our body.
In another instance we went upstairs and showered. Again, I didn't let him beat me off, but after the shower when we were both clean; we spent a short time rimming each other. It was his first time doing it and I remember how honored I was then that mine was the first asshole he had tasted and tongued.
There was also a little bit of pretend bondage, some light spanking, things like that. It was all about trying to push as many sexy little buttons we could find.
It was after one such play time, after we had both cum and were getting dressed that Kavan said, "You know, I think it would be fun to meet Shannon some time. She sounds really nice. She must be nice if she means so much too you."
This annoyed me for two reasons: First, bringing up Shannon's name caused me the first pang of guilty I'd felt in over three weeks of luscious self-denial. Second, there was no way in hell I was going to allow these two worlds to collide and I had a strong feeling Kavan would be peeved with my reticence.
At first I pretended not hear him, but when he repeated his thought I told him, "I'm not thinking that's a very good idea. Life is complicated enough without making it more complicated."
Kavan responded as he buttoned his shirt, "Seems like it shouldn't be that big of a deal, Jon. Haven't any of your guy friends met Shannon? I'm sure they all know her."
"Let's not get into this, okay?" I said. "I wouldn't feel comfortable, period."
"Why wouldn't you feel comfortable? I'm not going to embarrass you am I? I think I'm pretty normal," he said.
"Jesus, Kavan! Just drop it, will you? Why are you harping on this? It inappropriate, and that's it. Don't mention it again, alright?"
I went home feeling angry and annoyed... and for the first time in almost a month - guilty.
The day after Kavan had mentioned meeting Shannon, I was at home with my mom when the phone rang. My mom answered and chatted with the caller for a bit and then looked at me and said, "Jon, it's for you. It's Kavan." I was stunned, as I had never given him my folks' number.
I took the phone and said in short, clip manner, "Hey, what's up." I was pissed.
Kavan said, "I was just double checking to make sure you're coming by for lunch tomorrow."
I said, still seething, "Yeah, that's what I had said, right?"
"Yeah," Kavan answered, "But I was unsure so I thought I'd catch you at home. So I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Yeah," and I hung up.
My mom said, "Is that the boy you went to Atlantic City with? He seems very nice."
"Yeah, he's alright."
When I got to Kavan's house the next morning I was in an altered mood. Instead of arriving in anticipation of fun, I arrived in anticipation of trouble. We went to the basement and Kavan sat down at the computer to fire up some tunes. I moved to the sliding glass door and looked out vacantly at the rest of the condo complex and then I stepped up behind Kavan and rubbed his shoulders a bit as he logged in to his computer, his email and his online music service.
Kavan turned on some tunes by the Backstreet Boys and got up, saying, "Hey, I got something for Shannon." He went over behind the wet bar and took out a gift wrapped present that looked to be about the size and shape of a CD. "It's the new Fionna Apple CD, I thought she might like it."
I squinted my eyes and shook my head in disbelieve. "Um, didn't we talk about this already? I already said 'no way'."
"I know, but I was just thinking that it be a nice gesture considering I'm your friend and all and she's your girlfriend," he said.
"I don't even know what the hell you're talking about," I said. "What's going on in your head? Jeez..."
Kavan, looked down at his feet and said, "I guess... I guess I just want to know more about you, meet your friends and family. It gets lonely sometimes in this little box you've put me in."
"Wait a second. I haven't put you in any box. This is a mutually agreed upon situation here, I'm not forcing anything on you," I responded.
"Well that might be how it feels like to you, but you have friends and a girlfriend. What do I have?" Kavan asked. "If I can't be your boyfriend, why can't I be one of your friends like your other friends are? Why can't it be normal for me to meet Shannon or your mom?"
I said, "Where is this coming from? You know exactly why you can't be my boyfriend or traipse around my circle of friends and family. I wouldn't be comfortable with it and that is why and that is the end of the discussion"
Kavan took a step forward and said, "Well, why is this all about YOUR comfort level and why is that what's going on with ME and MY feelings doesn't even enter into it?"
"It's because I have a lot to lose, Kavan. I've lived in this town my whole friggin' life. My friends and family are here, I like it here, I don't want it fucked up over something stupid."
"What do you mean by stupid? Am I stupid? Is the relationship stupid? Maybe I don't want to be part of what you consider your 'stupid' little secret!", Kavan yelled and started pointing at me. "Your problem is that you're GAY and you don't want to admit it! The best thing for you is if your stupid little secret was known to all your homophobic friends so you could start dealing with who you really are!"
I took a deep breath, and said a calmly as I could, "Listen, this conversation is over. I'm going home. And by the way, don't ever call my mom's house again. If you need me, call my cell phone, you hear me? Don't call there again."
Kavan retorted, a little under his breath, "I bet Shannon calls there whenever she wants."
I yelled back and pointed at his face, "Well, you're not Shannon, so get over it!"
Kavan cocked his arm back and slapped me hard across my face.
I was stunned for a moment and felt the hot pain searing into my cheek and jaw. When I realized what he'd done, I lunged toward him grabbing him by the throat with both hands and pushed him backwards about five feet until I slammed him hard into the wall.
I kept my hands on his throat and got into his face screaming, "DIDYOU JUST HIT ME? DID YOU JUST FUCKIN HIT ME YOU GOD DAMN MOTHERFUCKER?"
Kavan didn't answer, so I pulled him forward a foot or so and then slammed his head against the wall again with each word I said, "DID...YOU...JUST...HIT....ME!?" The wall shook with each contact.
I could feel Kavan quaking with fear in my grasps, but I swore to myself not to let go until he answered my question.
His eyes filled up and got teary as his whispered meekly, "Yes, sorry".
I took one hand off his throat and stuck a finger in his face, "Don't EVER hit me again. You hear me?"
"Yes," he said softly.
I slapped him, "I asked you ... 'did you hear me?'"
"YES", he said in a voice that was half yell and half cry.
I said, "I'm leaving. Why don't you go fuck yourself?"
And with the courage of a coward that only comes when the immediate threat had passed and with the knowledge that I was leaving, Kavan got his back up and started yelling, "You'll be back! Because YOUR JUST A BIG FAG and when everyone find outs you'll be right back here because all your friends and family will HATE YOU. Then it will be YOU looking for a friend. So FUCK YOU!! FUCK YOU!!"
For a moment, I was going to rush him again and slam him back up against the wall, but thought better of it. Instead, I looked at him and said, "You're pathetic". And I walked to the steps as he started yelling at me again.
"You'll be back when everyone finds out you're a FAG. That'll be quite a day when THAT HAPPENS."
The last thing I heard him say as I climbed the basement steps and closed the door behind me was, "Your secret is NOT safe with me. Your secret IS NOT SAFE WITH ME!!"
Once out of the house, a wave of relief swept over me. I got in my car and just drove around. With a fine fall day, my window was down and the coolish air was welcomed. All at once, I felt disentangled from something awful. For over three weeks, I guess, I hadn't even realized I was bound up in a troublesome problem, but once I was free from its grasp, I could feel the freedom within me. I stopped for a few afternoon beers at a practically empty local haunt, but the rush of being young and drunk on a sunny afternoon was enough to keep my mind from delving to deeply into the true nature of my recent predicament.
My cell rang a few times, but I could see that it was Kavan calling, so I didn't answer it. As far as I was concerned, this would be the end. I would miss our afternoon playtime, but I had gone without gay sex for many months before I had met Kavan, so doing so in the future did not intimidate me.
I got home in mid-afternoon and relieved my dad's nurse. When my mom came home a few hours later, she gave me a list and I went out to do the grocery shopping then came back home.
My mom said, "Your friend Kavan called while you were gone."
My heart stopped for a moment.
"Okay", I said.
"What a nice boy. And quite a chatterbox. He had me on the phone for ten minutes," my mom said laughing. "I remember when you used to talk that much too. But now that you are all grown up, I guess you don't have anything to say to your mother anymore." And she laughed again.
"What did he want?" I asked.
My mom thought for a bit and chuckled, "I actually don't know. He just gabbed and that was it. I don't think he even mentioned you. Ha! I must be an impressive conversationalist."
I turned to my mom and said, "I should probably tell you that that kid has some psychological problems. He's bi-polar and had to leave his dad's house and move here because he got in some trouble. I'm trying to help but he's pretty clingy and is always looking for attention. So it's all pretty annoying ... but I feel bad 'cause he doesn't have any friends ... but you shouldn't get involved in being a crutch for him either."
"Oh, dear", my mom said. "That's terrible."
"I don't mind dealing with it too much though. I'll make sure he uses my cell number for now on. So if he calls, just tell him to me on the cell. I don't think he's 'all there' if you know what I mean, but I'll handle it."
My mom scruffed up my hair and said, "Your problem is that you're too nice."
After dinner, I drove to Shannon's to watch TV. I didn't know what to make of Kavan's call to my mom and I was nervous about leaving the house, but I felt pretty certain that my mom would do as I told and let me handle his calls.
A few minutes after I arrived, Shannon said, "Oh, that guy you know, Kavan, he called earlier looking for you."
I tried to play it cool, but I thought my legs would buckle at any time. "Yeah? What did he want?"
"Nothing," she said. "I think he thought you might be here and told him you'd be coming over later, so he might call back."
"Oh, okay, whatever," I said. "He has some emotional problems. He's bi-polar and maybe a bit schizophrenic so I think he goes through friendships pretty quickly. He's pretty much tapped out my patience already, so I hope he finds another sucker to leach on to, but until then I'll give him my cell number, so just have him call me if he calls back. Okay?"
"Sure. No problem," Shannon said, and then went on with one of her trademark stream of consciousness monologues, "Does he have a girlfriend? Maybe I can set him up. I think a lot of mental illness is caused by loneliness. Wouldn't it me great if part of therapy included some sort of dating service? That way, the people with mental problems could get hooked up with each other and not be lonely anymore, helping to solve the mental issues of two people for the price of one. Kavan seems really nice, so I bet I could find some one for him. Is he cute? He sounded cute on the phone. And sensitive too. He said he really admired our relationship. Can you imagine that? He went out of his way to complement us. When was the last time a guy ever did that? Most of your friends are kinda jerks and I wouldn't fix them up with my worst enemy, but Kavan sounds cute and wants a relationship. Ya think?"
"I think he's nuts, just leave him alone," I said. I was now very worried. I didn't even recall saying Shannon's last name to Kavan. I had no idea how he got Shannon's telephone number or why he called to fawn over her. My worry continued to deepen as Shannon talked on.
After a while, I stood up and grabbed my cell phone to take it outside. "I'm going to call my mistress, so I hope you don't mind if I take it outside," I joked.
Shannon laughed and said, "Go ahead. And tell her she can keep you. I've grown weary of you and want a new toy."
"I'll let her know," I said, and stepped outside into the cold night air.
First I checked my messages and there were three of them, all from Kavan. The first two were left shortly after I had left his house and consisted mostly of him using words like "motherfucker", "asshole" and "fag".
The third message was left later in the evening, after he had already spoken to my mom and to Shannon. The message was chilling: "Just calling to say that this will all be good for you. You may hate me for a while, but once it's all done, you'll thank me for helping you."
I started to panic and my fingers shook as I dialed Kavan's number.
He picked up on the first ring, and I said, trying not give away the tremble in my voice "Kavan, its Jon. I need to talk to you."
"I thought you'd call, but maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea for us to talk. I'm really busy. I've go lots of letters to write and phone calls to make," he said ominously.
"Don't fuck around with me, Kavan, I need to talk to you", I said - as I did my best to not lose control.
"Okay. If you want. Why don't you stop by here tomorrow morning," he said.
"No way.... I'll meet you on campus. Park down by where the baseball field is near Lot D. I'll be there tomorrow morning at nine," I said, as I seethed through my teeth.
"Look forward to it," Kavan said flippantly and he hung up.
I went back inside and Shannon said, "So, did your other girlfriend take you off my hands?"
"Nope," I said quietly, "looks like you're stuck with me."
She smiled.
There is a Jack Nicholson movie I saw on video one time in which he plays a business man who gets bitten by a werewolf and soon becomes one. As he slowly transforms over weeks into a wolfman, his ability to sense and smell fear and danger becomes more primitive and more acute. The best scenes in the movie are those in the business settings where Nicholson the almost-wolfman uses his animalistic qualities to their greatest effect - sensing the fear in the people around him.
There are times in my life when I feel like that half man/half beast - when my senses are heightened and my perceptive abilities become far superior to those people around me. It is in those times that I am blessed with the ability to become a creature of instinct and a creature of self-preservation.
I went to bed fearful that Kavan might follow through with threats that he now only hinted at. After hours of tossing in bed, sleep finally came to me along with a nightmare.
In the nightmare my father had died and I was at the funeral. But nobody would speak to me or acknowledge me. I looked at my mom's face and there was nothing but bitterness in her eyes, as though my dad's death had been my fault. Shannon and lots of friends from high school were also in my dream, and they too would not look at me.
It was just a stupid dream, but when I awoke at 4am it was impossible to fall back asleep.
As I laid there next to Shannon, I began to think of what I might say and do when I met up with Kavan in just a few hours. I thought of all different ways this might play out and different strategies I might take to keep him under control.
The easiest way would be to give in and tell him I was sorry for being unreasonable. I could tell him that I had thought it over and of course he could meet Shannon, of course he could me my folks. We could go back to our relationship of afternoon delights, but I knew those afternoon's would come back with HIM in control instead of me. I decided that this would not be an acceptable outcome.
On the other hand, I could let him try to tell Shannon and my parents about my "secret life" and bet that I could out-bullshit him. I had already set up the impression that he was a border-line schizoid and I felt fairly confident that I could win that contest. But what seeds of doubt might be planted with Shannon and my family that I couldn't talk my way out of. What other parts of my life that they had explained away as mysterious would they now look at more diligently? And might the slightest clue from Kavan lead them on a pursuit toward the truth?
For hours I worked to think of a different way. And finally it came to me. I reached down into my self to find that creature of instinct. The one they had tried to snuff out when I was fourteen and when I was fifteen. The creature of instinct that normal society always tries to destroy before it grows up and becomes uncontrolled.
I got out of my car and walked up to Kavan's driver side door. He rolled down the window and I said, "Let's walk."
Kavan stepped out and followed a few step behind me as I walked across a ball field shrouded in a low laying fog that obscured the faint outline of a dugout.
I pointed toward the dugout and said, "Let's sit in there."
We stepped down into the dugout and Kavan sat on the bench with a small smile on his face.
I stood over him and said, "You are NOT to call my house any more and you are NOT to call Shannon any more. Got it?"
He stood up. "I'll call anyone I want. You can't tell me what to do. And if you think you can just punch me and get away, you'll learn that it will only make things worse for you".
"Are you threatening me?" I asked.
"I don't know what I'm gonna do yet. I'm stopping by the post office to buy some stamps today, if that gives you any hint," he replied.
"You really are pathetic," I said.
"Not as pathetic as you are," he said. "You think it's safe in the closet. Well, you're wrong. You've lied to me, you've lied to Shannon, you've lied to your mom and dad. The lies are going to stop, Jon. I'm going to stop them because you are a manipulative, evil freak and people should know that."
"Fuck you," I yelled.
Kavan raved on, "A manipulative FUCKING FREA! Using people and lying to them. You don't even know what the truth is. But I know what it is and I'm gonna use it. You can feel sorry for yourself, but you're a fucking liar so live with it!"
I lowered my head and took a breath. My head was dizzy and I could see flashes and shadows behind my eyelids. The colors around me got brighter and I felt the sensation that I used to feel... the sensation I felt the before adults took the feelings away from me.
My eyes burned at him and my tongue was like fire, "I'm going to say this to you just once, so you had better listen really, really hard, because I don't want there any mistaking what I'm going to say? Is that clear?"
"You are NOT to call, write or contact Shannon or my family in ANY way, at ANY time for ANY reason. Period. End of discussion. NEVER. Because, if you do, there are gonna being really bad consequences, okay you fucking asswipe? Terrible, horrible consequences."
"So help me God, if you ever tell my mother about me, about what happened, I'm going to take a baseball bat and smash your mom's fucking face in, okay? I'll follow her to work, wait outside a mall, a restaurant and I swear to God I'll bash her fucking face in. Are you getting this? Are you prepared to look at her face when every bone in her head is in splinters? Do you have an answer for her when she's crying out and saying 'why me'? And you know why? What the fuck are you gonna do when the cops call and say they have her teeth in fucking envelope and wondering what to do with it. Is this clear enough for you?"
Kavan had stopped his smirky smile.
"And if my father ever finds out, I'm gonna track YOUR father down in Arizona and kill him. Okay? Your sitting their thinking I'm not capable of it, but you don't know one TENTH of what I'm capable of doing, do you, you stupid shit? I'm going to knock on his door on some nice Saturday morning and say 'I'm a friend of Kavan's from the old neighborhood'. When he lets me in, I'm gonna put a knife right in his chest...zip.... Just like that. And when he drops to his knees in disbelieve, I'll tell him how proud he must be to have a FAG for a son and then I slit his fucking throat... Don't think I'll do it? I fucking DREAM of doing shit like this."
"And if Shannon ever finds out? I'm going to wait. Maybe I'll wait six months, maybe two years, who knows how long, but at some point you'll come home and you'll notice things in the house aren't quite the way you left them and then you'll feel the cord suddenly around your neck and I'll be pulling it so tight that you'll fall to the floor in fear alone. And when you pass out, I'm gonna take a hack saw and cut off your motherfucking arms and then call the EMTs to make sure they get here in time to save you. But I'm going to take your arms with me, you fucktard!"
I began to pace back and forth in the dugout, I was spitting hate " You know, what? There is a part of me that WISHES you would go and tell people about me. What a rush that would be. All the bad things I've ever done would pale in comparison to what I'd start to plan for you and your FUCKING family. I bet you didn't know that I think about this stuff all the time, I've dreamed about stuff like this since I was a kid and people said it wasn't normal, so fine, it just gets buried deeper, but it will come out sometime and GOD I hope it comes out on you. By the way, do you know how to take someone's eye out with a pen? I do. How about crush someone's eardrum with screwdriver. I'VE FUCKIN DONE IT ALREADY!!! Did you know you can make someone pass out and then take a drill to a part of their skull and make them slaves? This is the shit I think about ALL THE TIME!! And all I'm looking for is the opportunity to become A MAN OF ACTION. So don't think for a second you'll ever be free of me now, this is gonna be a fucking NIGHTMARE for you if that is what you want."
I felt my fist go up to my head, banging on my temples.
"The things I could do --- the things I have ALREADY DONE --- would make you shit your pants right now if you really REALLY knew about me. I swear to all the powers in HEAVEN, that one squeak out of your fucking mouth to anyone and you will know what real evil is."
I felt my fists come down from my temples and they began to pound on my chest. "The evil is inside here. It is in HERE!!"
By now I had forgotten were I was, I turned to walk away, but spun once and scraped along the side of a chainlink fence as I stepped out of the dugout.
I looked back at him and heard my voice say, "You should be thinking about your mom. I already am."
And I walked slowly back to my car.
I drove to Kavan's house and parked far out of site of his mom's unit. Every half hour or so I'd get out of my car and walk partially around one of the complex's other buildings just to catch a view of Kavan's car - parked in front of his mom's condo since he had come home from the ball field.
When not checking on Kavan's car, I was using my cell phone to remotely check the answering machines at both Shannon's apartment and my folks' home. A little after noon, Kavan finally left the condo for his late afternoon classes.
When I was sure he was gone, I opened my glove compartment, and grabbed some black leather gloves that I keep in there alongside my other implements of the night like rope, twine, hammers, tape and screwdrivers.
I stuffed the gloves in my pockets and walked towards the condo unit and around back.
I had noticed while at Kavan's that they never locked the rear sliding door. It is one of the things I check for when I'm in a house for the first time: locks, pictures, bedrooms, tools, implements, saws. Things to be used in my imagination, for my daydreams later.
While I circled around back, I put on the gloves and grabbed a red plastic toddler swing off the deck of a neighbor and walked briskly to Kavan's unit and tugged on the sliding door. As expected, it opened.
I closed the door behind me and walked directly up the basement stairs to the kitchen eating area. I took the toddler swing and threw it up into the cheap hanging light that hung over the kitchen table. I then walked upstairs another flight to Kavan's bedroom. There, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from his desk and wrote "I HAVE A KEY" on the paper in big block letters and left the note on top of his pillow.
I came back down stairs, stopping at the computer for a moment thinking that I might log on there, thought better of it, and slipped back out of the sliding door and back to my car.
I drove directly to the local library. I used one of their ten or so computers with internet access to log into Kavan's Yahoo Mail account. From there, I erased all the email correspondence we had ever had and fully deleted it by emptying the trash folder.
Like a dutiful son, he had entered his father's and his mother's contact information in his online address book so I got his father's work telephone number and his mom's place of business. I looked up some information I would need next on Google then logged off and left the library.
I drove for a while until I found the corporate office building I was looking for and circled the parking lot of his mom's work for about twenty minutes trying to find the right car. Kavan was driving the jeep today, so that meant his mother was in the Camry. I knew it had a partially peeled bumper sticker on it from a Philadelphia radio station so I kept looking and at last I found it.
I pulled behind the car and got out. I stuck a piece of paper under the windshield wiper. Written in black ink on the paper was a note that read, "Kavan, I think this is your car, OMG, I work here, we met at the baseball game in Sept., I was Cindy from Newark, call if you want 978-848-10xx"
The number was to the office of Newark Bears of the Atlantic Minor League Baseball Conference.
In the car, I called his dad's direct line from my cell phone. I had learned online much about making clandestine phone calls. I knew that many direct lines at businesses will not reflect and store the incoming number, especially that of a cell phone. The fact that I spent copious amounts of time at true crime websites that feature this kind of information was not particularly troubling to me, but, I recall, was of great concern to my counselors.
When his dad's voicemail picked up I said, "Hi this is Daniel, a friend of Kavan's and I was trying to track him down. I hadn't heard from him since he moved east, so it would be really great if you could have him call me right away and as soon as possible. My number is 602-997-97xx, thanks."
The number was to a Phoenix store called, The Knife Shop.
At some time that day, I ended up at home. I don't really know when, but I remember falling a sleep and not waking until after dark.
--- I checked my email that evening, there was a message at 5:33pm from Kavan: "OKAY - STOP!!!"
It's been three weeks since that email from Kavan and I've heard nothing since.
Just to be sure, I've checked Shannon's and my parents' voice messages every two hours or so for three weeks straight -- and I always try to be the first to get the mail a both locations as well.
Kavan apparently doesn't realize that I have his login information because it is still usable at all his online destinations.
Recently, he's received a few emails from some kids in his classes regarding joint projects they are working on. Confirmatory emails back to his Yahoo account have also indicated that he's opened accounts with MySpace and LiveJournal. That will be an interesting development to watch. And his mom is still at her place of employment, parking in the same general area of the parking lot. I like to take a drive by in the morning sometimes to watch her arrive.
Shannon and I are back to as normal a relationship as I am likely to be capable of. Our love making is still typically pedestrian, but that is okay -- for now.
Back in my early teens - a dark time, better not recalled in much detail - I was involved in school mandated therapy and counseling. I was told that the "seeking of the societal norm" was a worthy endeavor for one's life journey. And so it is that I still hear those words and fight hard to make myself seek that norm, the commonplace, the familiar.
But it has become more of a struggle of late.
On some recent nights, I've risen from my bed past midnight and driven through the suburban darkness fighting urges long thought conquered, only to find myself sitting alone....sitting alone in their basement as the objects of my obsession sleep quietly upstairs.