This story is fiction any similarities between persons either living or dead is purely coincidental (although any good writer will write what he knows). This is a story that deals with male-to-male relationships as well as homosexual sex. If this offends you or is illegal in your location please do not read any further. This statement releases me the author and the site wherein this story is posted from any legal action. Copyright 1999 by Patrick Sean Purdy.
Chapter 6: Thanks Giving
"Evan! Evan, are you out here?"
I slowly drifted out of sleep and heard Tammy calling me. As I started to awake I felt the sea breeze. Since I usually don't sleep on the beach it was disorienting to say the least, then I felt something warm behind me. I remembered watching the dark waves, telling Brandon I was gay, and kissing him. I remembered his response, how we kissed once more and how we watched the sun rise together. I remembered it was Brandon's warm body behind me.
"Evan. There you . . ." Tammy turned the corner and noticed me, then Brandon, " . . . are. Well, I guess we didn't need to try and scope guys for you last night."
"You were the one, huh?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I told Brandon last night I was gay, he said he already knew because he overheard some girls trying to pick out guys for me."
"What about me?" I heard behind me sleepily. "Where, am I? Umm, Evan, is that you?"
"Yeah, I'm here Bran, so is Tammy." I couldn't see his eyes pop open, but his body definitely tensed and I heard his speech change.
"Uh, hi, I'm Brandon."
"I know," Tammy said, "You did a great job last night. It looks like you were compensated well too."
"Oh no, we didn't . . . if you think . . . I mean, nothing happened." Poor Brandon, he sounded so defenseless and trapped. After all, he told me last night, he wasn't gay so-to-speak, but he did have desires and/or feelings towards me. This must've been a very uncomfortable position for him to be found in; well, mentally at least.
"Tammy," I said, "Could you give us a moment, we need to talk."
"Sure Evan, but it's like 11:15 and you need to get cooking by noon."
"All right, just give us some time and I'll be in with plenty of time to shower and get started. By the way, Brandon may be spending dinner with us; he doesn't have any family here in Florida, so I invited him last night before we ended up like this. But, I'll take care of that, so don't say anything."
"Fine by me. I'll keep my trap shut and I'll let everyone know I found you." Tammy turned tail and headed back towards the house.
"Sorry about that Bran."
"It's O.K. It was just a little bit of a rude awakening. Are you sure it's all right for me to have Thanksgiving dinner here? True, you did invite me before the kiss, but I still feel weird."
"Listen I invited you as a friend, not anything else. I also put most of this thing together, so, if anyone has a problem with it they can go through me. Plus, we can say its part of the pay for your extra hours last night." Brandon gave me a little wink, to which I replied, "Not those hours, silly."
Brandon and I got up from out beach and blanket and headed inside. The few people that we met inside gave us looks, which meant that Tammy had said something. I could only wonder what. Brandon and I talked and agreed that he would go back home, unload his equipment, get showered, get changed, and come back for dinner. I told everyone I invited him since he had no family and not many close friends that would be doing the holiday-thing.
After I took my shower, I came downstairs and Joel was watching TV while, the others were outside just bull shitting on the patio. As I walked towards the kitchen Joel turned and was just looking at me. I had to know what was said, so I was direct in asking. "O.K. Joel, what did Tammy say?"
"That you, apparently, got drunk after the party with Brandon, and fell asleep on the beach."
"And . . ."
"And . . . nothing, that all she said." Good, I was relieved. "But," Joel continued, "That didn't mean we all believed her."
"So, you have something to ask me Joel?"
"Nah, you know I don't go in for that stuff, but to keep rumors from floating around, did you nail the DJ?"
"Well, for the sake of rumors," I said, "No I didn't nail the DJ. Brandon and I talked for about an hour, I came out, I kissed him, he was stunned, he kissed me back, and then we watched the sun rise. Not to mention there was a lot of talk between most of the key events."
"Aww," Joel said sarcastically, "That's so sweet Evan. You're a true romantic."
"Up yours Joel. Is everything cool now though? After all, Brandon is coming to Thanksgiving dinner as a friend, not a date. That's what this Thanksgiving was about to me when we decided to do it, friends."
"Ev, things are cool. You're right it's about friends, and this group has seen plenty of fly-by-night friends . . ." I shot him a look, not sure where he was going, " . . . and even a few who have stuck around and become some of the best friends I've ever had. I can't speak for the others, though I think that they are cool, but when you put it like that, Brandon is most definitely welcome."
I was so relieved by that. I went outside to talk with the others and, like Joel said, when I put it in terms of friendship, everything fell into place without resentment. After that, I headed toward the kitchen and started the turkey.
It's no mystery to the people that know us that Lisa and I are very good cooks (I'm better), so together we planned on making a Thanksgiving dinner none present would soon forget. We planned mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean and bacon casserole, turkey, fresh cranberry sauce, home-made stuffing (or "dressing" as my grandmother calls it), real gravy and few other vegetables. It was a feast fit for a royal court and it took us all afternoon to make.
About two hours after he left, Brandon returned, I was busy in the kitchen so he made himself ill at ease with my friends. After about a half-hour he was quite at home and everyone took an instant liking to him. I was very happy, because it meant that he was now there as everyone's friend not just mine.
The afternoon of cooking passed effortlessly it seems, but I know it wasn't at times. It was afternoon, of patio talks and football games between kitchen moments. Times of drinking beer or blender concoctions, laughing, chatting, cheering, and smiling. Without realizing it, the dinner was finished.
The nine of us sat down and looked at the spread before us. Lisa and I looked at each other thinking the same thing: We did this? To our amazement, more than anyone else's I believe, dinner was perfect. Not just the food, but the accompanying atmosphere. This group of college kids was sitting at a formal dining table, in an alabaster beach house, eating a Thanksgiving dinner only your parents and grandparents could come up with (until now).
Chapter 7: After Dinner Mints
As is usually the case with Thanksgiving dinner, everybody thoroughly gorged themselves until they didn't have anymore room. Well, except for the room they left for dessert; there's always room for Thanksgiving dessert. We decided to be on the safe side and wait an hour before having dessert. Finally, I had a moment to breathe; finally, I had a moment with Brandon. Then I realized that I was the one who had said this was about friendship, so instead of pulling up personal conversation I joined Brandon in conversation with the others.
For an hour and a half we swapped stories of family and friends. Tammy and Lisa, being backed up by all the others gave away embarrassing stories about me; not that they weren't in them also. Then we all moved to the kitchen for some dessert and coffee. Brandon carried on with everyone like he had been there with us from our freshman year.
The day had snuck past us so quickly, in true holiday style. An afternoon of cooking gave way to dinner, conversation, then dessert, and more conversation. It was ten o'clock when Brandon announced that he had to return to Jacksonville; something about mixing before working tomorrow night. We all headed to the door to say our good-byes.
"Evan," Brandon asked, "Would you follow me please?" My friends gave looks which were imperceptible to Brandon, but which I didn't miss. After all, I know these people better than they know themselves sometimes.
"Sure," was all I replied. We stepped out silently, closing the door behind us. We walked down the stairs and down the driveway to his car where we stopped. Brandon looked at me.
"I guess we have to talk," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Well, you have my number here, and at home don't you?"
"In my Business Planner back home."
"In that case, you go home and think things through, then in a few days, or however long, just give me a call and let me know what's up. If you want to be just friends, I'll understand, after all, I didn't really plan on things happening like this. It's all confusing to me and it must be more-so for you."
"Evan, I've thought things through. I had plenty of time to think when I drove up to Jax, when I was in the shower, during the drive back here, all afternoon and evening. During every conversation I had that wasn't with you, I was thinking, and I made my decision. I've . . ." Brandon grew silent, and my heart fell. Who was I kidding? Lusting after a straight guy was not smart, and now I had to deal with the consequences.
"I understand, after all we're . . ." I started to choke up a little. I didn't want to point out the obvious facts, and I didn't want to act like a wuss either.
"No, Evan, you don't understand. It's . . ."
"Really," I said, cutting him off, "I'm O.K. I understand."
With that, Brandon grabbed me hard and pulled me into him. His lips met mine in a forceful kiss. I was taken by surprise, but I soon joined the kiss. Brandon wrapped one arm tightly around my waste; the other was fingering the hair on the back of my head, holding me in place. His kiss was passionate and I gave in, parting my lips to taste his with my tongue. He opened his mouth and our tongues danced together. Finally, Brandon broke the kiss and held me at an arm's length.
"Evan," he said, "You don't understand." One simple sentence told me that he had thought things through and wanted to give it a go with me. I was elated.
I grabbed him and kissed him once again, we picked up right where we left off. For a split second I envied all the girls he must've been with, because they had found this great kisser first. Then I let it go, because I had him now. Again, Brandon broke the kiss after a few moments.
"Evan, you're right, this is a thousand times more confusing for me than I expect it is with you. After all, you did your souls searching and came out to everybody. I'm not sure anymore if I am straight, bi, gay or what. What I do know, is that I want to see more of you. I want to kiss you like that again, and again, and again. What don't want is to hurt you. What if we see each other and, down the line, I realize that I can't be with you. I don't want you to be left hurt like that."
"There you go," I replied, "Being so thoughtful. I wish you'd stop doing that all the time, it just makes me want you even more. Listen, I'm willing to try. After all, I know the risk I'm taking, and if I get hurt, it'll be nobody's fault but mine. But if you want to try and you don't, that'll hurt more. Our only other option is to try and remain friends knowing the way we feel about each other. All of them have risks, all of them have downsides, but I'm willing to take the big chance. Are you?"
"I believe I am. Just as long as you let me borrow some of that strength which you carry so easily."
"Trust me Brandon, it's like anything else; it only looks easy." I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, and opened his car door. "Now, you go on home, get some sleep, get all your work done tomorrow, and call me to set up our first official date."
"All right, I will." Brandon slid behind the wheel and shut the door. He opened the window and looked out at me with such tenderness in his eyes, I just blew him a kiss and he caught it; holding it to himself. Turning the ignition he said, "I'll see you later." I thought that was much nicer than goodbye.
"I'll see you too," I replied. Then he just rolled on out the driveway and up A1A towards Ponte Vedra and, ultimately, Jacksonville.
Chapter 8: The Inquisition
"You two are so cute together," Emily said as I walked in the door.
"Did you just watch Emily," I asked, "Or did you open the door slightly and listen too?"
"I just watched. I'd never seen two guys kiss before; you were so passionate and tender, I didn't even notice you were the same sex."
"How very modern of you."
"So," she asked, "Are you guys going to start dating? When did he come out to you? When's the first date?"
"Emily," I replied, "Really, have a little respect and slow down. I'm not planning on talking about this until Brandon and I have settled everything, so slow down your little rumor-mill there."
"Rumor-mill?"
"Yes. Now, we've all got two and a half days left here, and I suggest we use them for us to have fun. This Indian Summer is perfect, and I plan on getting the most out of this beach house with or without you. Plus, I don't want any talk about my dating schedule, unless I bring it up."
"Sir, yes, sir!" Emily gave me a little salute and trotted upstairs. I went out onto the patio and gave a repeat performance for the rest of the group.
I went inside after talking to everybody. I changed into something more comfortable, made myself a margarita, and headed out to the hot tub. I sat there thinking of the days gone by, and realized that my first Thanksgiving away from home was probably one of the best I'd ever had.
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