by John Goode
It was going to be a long Christmas
I decided to walk. The weather was decent, and fresh air invaded me when I inhaled. The truth, of course, was that I hadn’t had an excuse for years to approach Tyler’s house on foot, and I had never had a solid reason. Now I had both. Another deep breath in the silence of the morning, and I walked down to the sidewalk.
It was like a time warp; with each step I felt like I was being hypnotized. The noise of my shoes hitting the pavement mesmerized me, and I could feel my thoughts going back. I felt like I’d stumbled into a slipstream. Every step was another bit of time back toward the point where I’d first approached his house, hoping to see him. I couldn’t remember the last time I was really happy, and it was bugging me. I had been satisfied and I had been content, but actually being happy had always eluded me. On that quiet walk, I faced the facts. I had been deferring actual happiness to some future point that was never going to come.
I’d be happy when I moved out of Foster. I’d be happy once I graduated college. I’d be happy when I had a career instead of a job. I’d be happy—when? It ceased being a statement and began being a question I knew I still couldn’t answer.
Deep in thought though I was, I still stopped walking at the head of the Parker sidewalk. Another deep breath, a sharp right turn, and I traveled the few feet from the road to his porch on autopilot.
I knocked on the front door. When would I be happy? Was I even capable of it? Maybe I was just a naturally miserable person, destined to be alone. I didn’t know what was worse—not knowing the answer, or knowing it and not wanting to accept it. I knocked again and checked my watch, a little thread of anxiety winding through me. It was almost noon so I knew I wasn’t too early.
The door swung open, and I almost fell off the porch.
He was standing there, hair wet, a blue towel clutched around his waist. If I had thought he was in good shape before, I was assured by the way the water dropped off each and every muscle. “What? Oh…,” he said, once he realized it was me. “You didn’t call.”
“What?” I echoed, noticing the way the wet towel bulged and then unable to look away.
“I was expecting you to call,” he said, sounding more shocked than angry. “I was in the shower. Come on in and have a seat,” he added, moving aside. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right down.” I watched him climb the stairs and realized that sixteen-year-old me would have blown his load right then and there. I was relieved I had a bit more control. To keep my attention off Tyler’s attributes, I looked around the part of the house I could see from the living room couch. Of course, thinking of the word couch and what a person could do with another person on said couch caused a near misfire, so I firmly fixed my attention on the furniture and pictures around me.
The house was comfortable; it looked like a family still lived here instead of just him. I looked around for signs of a wife or kids, but all I saw were pictures of him in high school and college. There was one of him, on one knee in his football jersey and pads, that transfixed me. He was so young, so flawless; it was the very image I had fallen in love with ten years ago. His smile was wide, and his pride at the moment radiated a decade later like heat from a flame.
“That was sophomore year,” he said from behind me. “My first year on the team, I thought I was the shit.”
He was pulling on a T-shirt when I turned around. His flat stomach should have been illegal, I thought as I casually continued my stare past him, taking in the rest of the room. “My brothers were on the team before me, so for me, my first year felt like going into the family business.” I discovered that feigning casualness could end up with me staring at a closet door. Still casual, I swung my gaze back around to focus on him.
He chuckled. “Yeah, you guys were kinda legendary around here.” He gestured to the den. “It’s in there. D’you want something to drink?”
“I’m good,” I said, following behind him. He was barefoot, and I was instantly reminded of catching him reading in the backyard. I felt my body begin to react as he led me to the computer. “Here she is. Finicky bitch, if you ask me.”
“Huh?” I asked, his words not making sense for a moment. “Oh right, the computer.” I covered quickly. “Lemme take a look.”
He kept on talking while I opened the side panel. “So I saw the cars in front of your house. Christmas must be insane over there.”
I nodded as I checked the computer’s insides. “I always offer to get a room out at the Motel 8, but my mom takes mortal offense for some reason.” I tried turning the computer on to see how bad it was.
“Yeah. I’m an only child, always wondered what a big family would have been like,” he mused.
“Complicated,” I answered, sighing when I thought of my mom. I saw the monitor flicker to life and then crash. “Okay, looks like it wants to boot up. Might be your hard drive.”
“That bad?” he asked as if we were talking about a sick child.
I laughed and pulled my laptop out. “Nah, I’m going to take yours and hook it up to here as a second drive. That way I can look at its directory.”
He blinked a few times. “All I know is I push that button and the computer turns on.”
I laughed. “Okay, works for me. Seriously, it doesn’t look bad.” I took out a set of cables from my bag and began hooking up his hard drive to my laptop. “So, I’m surprised you moved back to town. Didn’t you get a scholarship for football or something?”
“Florida,” he confirmed. “And yeah, blew my knee out second year and had to drop out.”
I stopped and looked back at him. “Man, I’m sorry. I know you loved the game.”
He nodded and looked down for a second. “It took some time, but I got over it.”
I might have been imagining it, but he didn’t sound too sure about the “getting over” part.
“Well, you look great,” I said before realizing what I’d just said. “I mean, you walk fine.” Even worse. “I mean, no limp.” I went back to the computer.
“Thanks,” he said wryly. “So did you bring anyone home for Christmas?”
“No, I’m single,” I said and then realized what he had asked. “I mean, I’m not seeing anyone to bring home, and even if I was, I doubt I’d scare them away by introducing them to my family. I mean a girl, introduce a girl to.”
“Dude, I know you’re gay,” he interrupted quietly, out of nowhere.
My hands went numb and I froze in place.
“It’s cool, seriously,” he added when he saw me freeze in shock. “I kinda am too,” he said, his voice trailing off.
I turned around slowly, pretty sure I was still having that stroke. “You?” I said pointing.
“Yeah, me,” he said a little defensively. “Why? You get to be the only gay guy in town?”
“Mr. Sanders is gay,” I said, still in shock.
“The florist?” he exclaimed and then shook. “Brrr, that guy is a major perv.”
I just stared with my mouth open.
“Why do you look so shocked?” he finally asked.
I went back to the computer. “I just never suspected. I mean, you were the last person I’d ever thought of being gay too.”
“How can you say that? You didn’t even know me,” he challenged.
“I knew of you,” I said, trying to remember that the boy I had in my mind was in no way the man in front of me.
“Besides peeking through my back fence, which doesn’t count as talking, when did you ever talk to me?” My head whipped around and he laughed. “Oh yeah, I noticed you watching me. Er, it was kinda hard not to.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, feeling like my entire life had been a lie.
He shrugged. “’Cause I didn’t want to admit I liked guys back then. Still don’t, to be honest. But back then, serious closet case.”
We both sat there in stunned silence. Finally I said, “Can you imagine if we’d known about each other back in high school?”
He la
ughed. “There’s a baseball player at Foster High who just came out. Has a boyfriend and everything.”
“No shit?” I asked, not believing it. “And everyone is okay with it?”
“They aren’t okay with it, but what are they going to do, lynch them? They’re in love, and most people respect that.”
“I think my brothers would have exploded if I’d come out while I was playing ball,” I admitted.
“Yeah, my dad almost had a heart attack,” he said, rubbing his hands on his pants. “You need a beer?”
I hated beer, but I did need a drink. “Please.”
“Great,” he said, jumping up and heading to the kitchen.
As I attached his hard drive to my laptop and booted it up, I wondered how different things would have been if we both had known we liked guys back then. Would we have been different people? Would we be happy? Would it have mattered?
“Here,” he said from behind me.
I straightened and turned to take the bottle, and he kissed me. I can’t imagine it was pleasurable for him at first, since I didn’t even breathe as I felt his arm go around my waist and pull me closer. Whatever shock had paralyzed me wore off fast, though, as I melted into his arms and kissed him back properly.
My head spun as I felt our tongues move past each other. Over ten years of dreaming and desire reached fruition in one instant. The kiss ended but our heads stayed touching as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you at the store.”
“I’ve been wanting you to do that since I saw you reading in the backyard,” I admitted.
I saw the glow of his teeth as he grinned at me. “Really?”
I nodded silently, unsure if I could trust my mouth to say the right thing or not.
“You wanna keep kissing or you wanna work on the computer?” he asked.
“Can we do both?” I asked hopefully.
He barked out a laugh. “Dude, I’m happy with both.”
I pulled back and tried to catch my breath. “Let me fix the computer first.”
He shook his head as he fell back into the oversized chair across from me. One of his feet dangled over an arm, and I forced myself not to watch him open his beer. “All work and no play…,” he teased.
“The sooner I fix this, the sooner I can get payment,” I said, giving him an evil smile back.
I began accessing his hard drive, not believing what was happening. “So, a baseball player?” I said as I typed. “I can’t even imagine coming out like that.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too, but he has a guy and they’re dating… the whole nine yards,” Tyler said as he took a sip of his beer. “I mean, it hasn’t been in the paper or anything, but it’s pretty common knowledge around town.”
I paused. “Am I common knowledge?” I dared to ask.
He shook his head. “No. I’ve never heard about you in the Foster Gay Underground,” he said with a smile.
“There’s like what? Four of you sitting around at the Veteran’s club on folding chairs talking about people they heard were gay?” I asked, shaking my head.
“They’re six of us, thank you; and we couldn’t book the Veteran’s club. The lesbians took it before us.” I had to laugh with him at that. “So what’s San Francisco like?” he asked after a while. “I bet you’re a popular boy there.”
“I said I was single, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but that’s ’cause you’re playing the market, right?” he offered. “I’ve thought about selling the house and moving out there a couple of times.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked, curious.
He shrugged and finished his beer. “Don’t know, never had the guts to do it.”
“You’d be the belle of the ball,” I said, going back to my laptop.
“Oh really?” he asked suggestively. “And why is that?”
“You have to know you’re incredibly good-looking.” I said, not daring to look into his eyes. “You can have any guy you want.”
“And if I want you?” he asked bluntly.
I blushed as I typed for a few seconds on my laptop. “Found your problem,” I said.
“Too aggressive?” he asked.
“I meant with your computer. I can fix this,” I said.
He got up from the chair. “Seriously? It’s not broken?”
I ran the recovery disk off my laptop. “Yeah, give it about twenty minutes and it should boot up.”
“That’s awesome!” he said excitedly. “You’re awesome.”
“It’s just a computer,” I countered.
“I wasn’t even talking about the computer, dummy,” he said, grabbing my shirt and pulling me up to my feet as he kissed me again. This time I was ready and kissed him back. We stood there for almost ten minutes, our hands roaming everywhere as we savagely kissed each other. As my hand coasted down to his jeans, I was pleasantly surprised to find the bulge that had been visible behind the towel was prominent. My knees threatened to melt under me and I couldn’t have cared less.
“You’re still hot,” I said as we caught our breath.
“I always had a crush on your family,” he admitted. “The three of you were like sex in sneakers walking down the road.”
“I’m sure you were more turned on by my brothers,” I said softly.
His hand pulled my chin up as we made eye contact. “Your brothers aren’t here with me,” he said in a deep voice. “And I’m glad they aren’t.”
“So am I,” I said as my laptop chirped.
“You’re beeping,” he said between kisses.
“Let it beep,” I said as we fell back onto the couch.
The computer was ignored for another hour and a half easy.
Tyler
TEN years ago, I would have mounted him right there on the couch.
Five years ago, there would have been ten minutes of making out before we were naked.
Now we just lay on the couch and enjoyed the feel of each other’s body as we talked. I was horned up, but just feeling him lying on top of me felt so nice, so calming, I could have fallen asleep if we hadn’t been talking. We kissed a few times—okay, more than a few—but we also began asking each other what our lives were like. We hadn’t been friends in high school, but high school had ended a long time ago; we were comfortable with each other, feeling we had always known each other in some way.
Maybe I was just that lonely, maybe I was that starved for physical attention, but the feeling was a thousand times more intimate than sex ever had been. A whole slew of thoughts that scared the shit out of me raced through my mind as we talked. Like how perfect he felt there in my arms, or how I could lie there on the couch with him forever, if that was a choice. I didn’t care if someone found out about us or if he told anyone. Those fears were gone for the moment and, I had to admit, the silence in my mind was addictive.
I bring this up because I won’t mention it later to Matt, which will be a mistake. I mention it now to you because it will literally be the only record of what I felt like in the moment. I say this now in plain, old-fashioned English because not saying it later will be part of the bigger problem.
I was happy, and it was a feeling I wanted a lot more of.
I now leave you to our story, already in progress.
Matt
WE LAY in each other’s arms on the couch, enjoying the feel of each other in a way that sixteen-year-old me would have never believed. His finger stroked my triceps as he was telling me about getting his knee ruined during a game. “I remember lying there on the field thinking, ‘This is the end of my life’. Looking back, I don’t even remember the pain, even when they put me on the gurney to roll me off; all I knew was that I was never going to play again.”
“That must have been horrible,” I said, empathizing with him as I saw football through his eyes. The game had always been something I had to do to keep people off my trail, so I never liked it the way my brothers had. But hearing Tyler talk about his accident and the literal bo
ne-crushing injury of not being able to play again, I felt a shiver at the base of my spine.
He was quiet for a moment and then shrugged. “You know, when I was in the locker room and they were inspecting my leg, I remember thinking my dad was going to be so disappointed.” His voice got rough, and he stopped talking for a few seconds. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear my sob story.”
I moved up and leaned in to kiss him. “Hey, I want to hear all your stories. Sob and otherwise.”
He smiled back. “Oh really?”
I nodded, kissing him again. “Every single one.”
“What about you?” he asked after a few kisses.
“What about me?” I asked, settling back down on his chest. “I went to college, moved to the city, and work at a blog. That’s my story.”
“You sound thrilled,” he said, rubbing my back in long, easy strokes that evolved into circles, still calming. I almost purred, which would have been embarrassing.
“I thought moving to San Francisco would be a gay dream.”
“Not for me,” I countered, trying not to sound as despondent as I suddenly felt.
“You sound as miserable as I do,” he said after a few seconds.
“Why are you sad?”
“What am I supposed to do in Foster?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s not like it’s the dating capital of the South. I get up, go down to the store, close up, head to the gym, and then come home and watch TV until I fall asleep.” He sighed. “Not really the life I dreamt of.”
“You know, that doesn’t sound so bad to me,” I admitted.
“Oh really?” he said with a grin.
I nodded and felt my cheeks get red. “Sounds awesome if it was with you.”
His grin turned into a wide smile, and I felt my heart skip a beat. “So how long you gonna be in town?”
My mouth moved faster than my mind. “How long do you want me to be?”
He arched an eyebrow in response.
“I mean, I don’t have any plans yet,” I lied, knowing I had meant to leave the first flight after Christmas.
