Hi Greg,
If you only knew how great you made me feel yesterday. No, not then!!! When you said being my friend was more important than that. It's like exactly what I needed other than a real hug from you. Ok, ok, that was real good too.
That support came in real handy as the night progressed. It's been like I'm under siege. My roommate came home drunk. I was studying and working on this damn paper some, although the paper is progressing nicely. He's been pretty cool all things considered. I mean even with the phone debacle last semester he remained pretty cool about stuff.
Last night he was slammed. Nothing I haven't seem him do before. Nothing I haven't done myself. Ok not since I was 16 and learned that I too had the same problem many of my family have, alcoholism. So he comes in and he's like wasted and he strips down to his boxers and he's just sitting there.
I went back to reading, but I couldn't help noticing he was staring. Then he asks, "What's it like."
"Like?"
"Yeah you know, being gay."
"What's it like being str8?"
I mean how do you answer that one? What frame of reference do I have? Its not like I was str8 and got sick and now I'm gay. I'm not at all sure there's a difference other than those caused by how society and our families' expectations cause the entire closet syndrome. So I tell him that, not as neatly as I say it here.
"No, no not all that, I mean do you like it?"
"I hate being different, but its not like I have a choice."
"I don't know the babes all think you're hot."
"It's got nothing to do with availability."
He went on for a while about how if he had my "talent" he'd get laid more often. I got uncomfortable while he talked about me like I wasn't there. I'm not at all able to think of myself in the third person.
"Is sex with guys good?"
"Huh?"
"Sex with other guys, is it good?"
"How do you feel about sex with girls?"
"Oh man, it makes me insane thinking about some of the babes on campus."
"I'm not talking about your fantasies. I mean when you've done it for real."
He got real quiet, and blushed a color I'd never seen him.
"Are you a virgin Chet?"
Turns out he is a virgin. I caught myself before I laughed. Told him it was no big deal, that it would happen when it happened. He asked when it happened for me.
"With a guy, or a girl?"
"You've been with both?"
"Yep"
"Which was first?"
"Guys."
"How old?"
"14"
"And girls?"
"I was nearly 17 before I was with a girl."
He was stunned. All right not stunned by the fourteen thing. Stunned about having been with both when he'd never had any, and stunned when I told him with who, and how often and all that. He said the guy should have been hung for molesting me. I said I was more than happy to let the guy blow me whenever he wanted.
"So guys give good head?"
I really didn't like where this was going. I'd tried real hard to build a pretty good relationship with my roommate. There was so little common ground for us. The only thing we ever really did together was work out once in a while. He partied I didn't. He was str8 I wasn't. I was in the mass communication, he was business/accounting. For the most part we left each other alone.
"Do they?"
"Yeah"
"Figures."
"What?"
"About guys giving good head."
"Oh yeah better than girls."
He was quiet for a long time. I tried to get back into my text, but I could hear the wheels turning from across the room. Worse, I could swear his boxers were starting to tent.
He got up and took a piss. Nothing in that right? Wrong! He always closes the door. Now, I'm hoping please let it be cause he's drunk. Please. He's talking to me from the bathroom. I miss it in my panicked state.
"...if you, ya know, don't mind?"
"Sorry I didn't catch what you said."
"Can I ask something real personal?"
"What have we been doing here?"
"I guess."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"Sex? Sure"
"I mean giving guys head?"
There it was. Him standing in the doorway in just boxers and socks. Me in a pair of sweat shorts. And the question hanging there like an invitation to hang yourself.
The day we'd moved in together I'd told him I was gay. I figured if I was going to be out at school, this was the place to start. That way too I wouldn't have to sneak around, or hide pc based stuff, or any of that.
I'm not sure he believed me. If he did he never showed any sign of it bothering him; even after I'd forgotten to shut down my pc and his curiosity gotten the better of him. Actually it bothered him more that I didn't drink.
Although it was like months before I saw him naked.
"If I'm talking to much, ya know, just tell me to shut up."
"Thanks for the out."
"Hey, we're bud's aren't we."
I chuckle.
"Is that one of those words?"
"Yeah."
I'd told him after the phone debacle about the lexicon of gay guys. How there was a special language, and a social syntax to the lifestyle. He smiled at his faux pas.
"I guess its cool. Yeah, if the guys hot, if I'm all fired up, I really get off on making my partner feel good."
There was a long pause heralding the progression I was hoping to avoid.
"Do ya think I'm a hot guy?"
"Chet..., I don't think..."
"I'm not asking you to do anything. I just wanted to know, honestly."
The first part of his sentence was angry, the second quiet and apologetic. He couldn't bring himself to look at me any more. For the first time in a long time I stopped and looked him over. He was good looking, dark hair, deep eyes, short and a little stocky, but the proportions were nice. He was in good shape, had some definition, he had an open honest boy next door kind of face, and I'd always though he had nice legs. When I finished my perusal our eyes met.
"You're a good looking guy Chet."
"Ya think?"
"Yeah."
I knew it was coming, but I pretended to start reading the text again.
"Bobby do you think..."
"No Chet, I don't."
"What?"
"I don't think so."
He looked hurt, started toward his bed then stopped. His shoulders drooped.
I thought he was going to cry.
"If we do it will changed everything Chet."
"What?"
"It'll change everything."
"You sound like half the girls I know. We're friends, I can't date a friend, if something happened it would ruin the friendship," he mocked.
"We're room mates Chet. Even if nothing goes wrong, it'll still change things. Look how upset you were when that guy kept calling back. This won't be some stranger it'll be us."
He looked hurt. I couldn't really understand why; maybe because he was drunk.
"Look, its not like I don't think you're fit for the task ok. You're drunk and horny and upset. In time you'll find a girl that will do all the stuff you've been waiting for, and then you won't have any regrets, or dark secrets."
"She won't have the right equipment," he barely whispered.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, I didn't hear you."
"Look, you said it was good, I just thought maybe I'd try that's all."
"And I suppose my mouth should be watering with an offer like that?"
"Just forget it! I must be insane thinking about sucking cock anyway!"
"Huh?"
He was shaken. His eyes welled and a single tear rolled down his cheek. I was completely taken by surprise, not knowing what to say, or how to react. In my lap, my libido knew what it wanted, so I hesitated, rather than following my instincts and consoling his distress. He looked about for an escape route, then realizing he was in his boxers grabbed for clothes.
"Where are you going?"
"Outta here."
"Stop it."
"Why? You don't give a shit. You're not interested. I need some time to think."
I grabbed him by the shoulders, staring his straight in the eye.
"You're drunk."
"So what?"
"We're friends."
"Are we."
"I've never doubted it. Not since you went through my pc and never gave me grief."
He stopped struggling.
"You gonna be okay?"
"I guess."
"Why don't you get some sleep."
He looked at his bed and nodded. I went back to reading. It took a long while to regain any useful focus. I thought he was asleep, but when I looked up our eyes met again.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Can't sleep?"
"Thinking."
"Wanna share?"
"I wasn't kidding."
"About."
"Being willing to try."
I sighed, and put the book down.
"I know, I know, you don't want to."
"Its not just that."
"Its me?!!?"
"No me. I've been through alot of emotional kinds of stress lately and I've been questioning the why part of all this."
"Like why you're gay."
"No, I gave up on that one a long time ago. More like why, I've never been in love, or for that matter been romantic, and if its something that's missing or wrong with me."
"Damn Bobby, I've never been with anybody to get to that point. We're the same age, give it a chance dude."
"Its just that...well maybe you were right about that first guy thing, maybe that did hurt me."
"Bobby its just not right a thirty year old hittin on a 14 year old kid."
"Its not like he forced me, but maybe its how I came to see myself, and that's why others see me like that."
"What are you talking about."
"I'm tired of being the pretty boy."
"Not alot you're going to do about that."
"No but I'm tired of that being all people see, all they want."
It was quiet for a long moment.
"I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"I did what they do."
"Not you're fault. I misread what you were asking anyway."
"What?"
"I thought you wanted me to do you."
"Huh?"
"Yeah?"
"Why?"
"You know...faggots like to suck cock, this one said I'm good looking, he must want to suck my cock."
"You're no faggot."
"What?"
"You're a guy, not a sissy."
"Thanks."
"Ya know maybe its good this happened."
I looked up.
"We've never talked. Not really talked, not like this, I think its gonna be okay."
"Good."
"No really, I mean some of this was major heavy shit, and nobody got angry or took a swing or anything."
"Maybe you're right."
He grew quiet and I listen to his breath slow as I began to read at last.
"Bobby," he said sleepily.
"Yeah."
"Did you get along with your buds?"
"Yeah, one was my best friend."
"Then maybe if it was like that..."
"Go to sleep Chet, you're drunk."
"But...what if..."
"If you feel like this when you're sober we'll talk."
He smiled then rolled over. I didn't know whether to cry or jerk off.
I started to write this just to tell you and it became a catharsis for the event. I smoothed some of the rough edges, and rounded out some of the dialogue. I'm going to send it to nifty archives, just as a hoot, and have it posted. Talk to you later
Your Friend,
Robbie