Date: Sun, 25 Apr 2004 20:08:15 -0700 (PDT) From: Mickey S Subject: Billy and Danny 2, Chapter 13 This is a story of love between two young men. If you are under age, or live in an area where reading stories that include sex between males is illegal, or if you're not into this type of story, please leave. The story began in 1969. While the characters and their story are completely fictional, it is set at places that are real and is told against a backdrop of some real events. This was a time when all sex was safe. It isn't now, so please respect yourself and others enough to always play safe. I would like to thank all of those who have written to me with comments, suggestions and encouragement, especially my fellow writers in the Nifty Six. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at NJMcMick@yahoo.com. September 1971 Billy Sometimes I think getting involved in this new gay group may be a little more work than we can handle but Danny is really into it so I guess it's probably okay. Joanne lined up a room at the Unitarian Church in Summit near where she lives and we've all been trying to spread the word about the meetings that are going to start this month. We've all told our friends and posted notices on local college campuses but they seem to get torn down as soon as we put them up. Frankie and Eddie are trying to get local newspapers to run something about it but we're not holding our breath. And all this while we're trying to get into a new school year. Junior year. With majors in English and history we both have tons of reading to do. And we're still working Friday and Saturday nights and Sunday brunch at The Restaurant. Steve and Jason didn't come back after the summer so we've got a couple of new guys waiting tables. The rest of the staff is pretty much the same, including Joe and the guys in the kitchen, so there's some continuity there. And we're still doing the poker game although we stopped with the sexy little costumes long ago. Now that we're nearly twenty and the guys are our friends we're not just sexy entertainment anymore. They've offered to deal us into the game but we both enjoy just hanging out and serving refreshments more than playing cards. They've spread the word about our new group to their friends but told us not to expect much. They say that guys in their generation aren't very out and are definitely not into social or political activism. "Tim and I really admire you for what you're doing. It takes balls and there's definitely a need for a place for gay people to meet. More public visibility can only help make things better but if you boys are going to be teachers you should try to stay in the background." "What has that got to do with anything, Evan?" "Teachers can't be out, Danny. You either won't get hired or you'll lose your job if a school board finds out you're gay." "Why should that matter? Are they afraid we're gonna molest the kids?" "Maybe some people are but that's not the real reason. I think they're afraid to give kids a positive gay role model. They think that teachers have a lot of influence over kids." "That's bullshit, Evan. We're gonna teach English and U.S. History, not sexuality." "Hey, you don't have to convince me, Billy. I'm just telling you the way things are. I've been teaching for twenty years so I know what it's like. Be careful how out you are." The biggest change in this school year is due to one course I'm taking. I read in the school paper last Spring that Rutgers-Newark was offering a course this fall on the effect of black literature on social change. Nothing like that is offered on our campus so I was able to cross-register to take it but the classes are on Monday and Wednesday evenings so two nights a week Danny and I are apart. That's one reason this new group is good for Danny. The only night the church had a room available for us was Wednesday. So at least one of the nights I'm in class Danny has something to do that he's really into. Unfortunately, it means that I can't even go to a meeting of the group until the holidays, but then I'm not much into that kind of thing anyway. As long as Danny's happy, I'm happy. Danny I'm not crazy about Billy taking the train down to Newark by himself two nights a week but I keep reminding myself that he grew up in Newark. He knows his way around the city and can take care of himself. Besides, the campus is only a few blocks from the train station. I do miss being with him though. I know it's silly; we're together the rest of the week but I really count on him being there all the time. I am having a blast with the gay group we're starting though. Billy can't go to the meetings but he helps out with other things during the week. At the first meeting six people, four guys and two women (I keep calling them girls and they keep correcting me) other than Frankie, Joanne, Eddie and me showed up. We decided to call ourselves the North Jersey Gay Alliance (yeah, pretty pretentious for ten gay kids) and the others talked me into being the president. None of them are out and one of the newspapers Eddie contacted sent a reporter who wanted to interview someone so it was pretty much up to me. We didn't do much at the meeting except talk and get to know one another a little but by the time I got home I was still bubbling over with enthusiasm. I had been half afraid no one would show up and the first meeting would be the last. As I drove up to the house I saw Billy walking from the direction of the train station. "Hey, Billy, you're usually home by now. Why so late?" "A few of us went out for coffee after class. How'd the meeting go?" "Fantastic! Ten people! And they elected me president." "President? You know what Evan said, Danny. Being president isn't exactly keeping a low profile." "I know, Billy, but nobody else would do it. Besides, it's not a very public position." "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not like you're gonna be in the paper or anything." "Well, actually..." Mark This year, our last in Boston, looked to be a good one for Peter and me when we came back to school. We really seem like a couple, not just to the people at the Harvard group or in the bars we sometimes go to, but to each other, when we're alone. There has always been something I couldn't put my finger on about Peter that attracted me to him. And there's something so special about the way he really focuses on me and gets into me when we're together. There's a connection there that's hard to explain. I had to assume we were still not monogamous, though. We don't talk about it, ever. I just don't want to hear if or what he's doing with someone else. At least I know he can't possibly be having a relationship with another guy. Law school is very demanding and takes up a lot of time and I'm with him a lot of the rest of the week. I know he's got time to go out for the occasional night on the town and possibly have a trick but that's about it. I'd prefer to think he doesn't have anyone else he sees. Maybe he doesn't. And he has helped me get my life on track. I majored in political science because I was interested in the subject but I didn't know what I was going to do with my degree once I graduated. Peter has convinced me to go to law school. I was leaning toward going on for a masters in public administration but Peter pointed out that there are so many things I could do with a law degree. He may be just a bit prejudiced but he still made sense. So I'm signed up for the LSAT's and I'm getting applications to several law schools in the New York area. It's close to home and my friends but it's also where Peter is going to be. He wants a law career in New York so I may as well go to school there. We've even talked about getting an apartment together. In his first year out of law school he'll be making decent money though maybe not enough to live on his own and I have to live somewhere while I'm in school so it would make sense. And if we live together there's hope for our relationship becoming more exclusive. At least he'd be coming home to me every night. Billy It's funny, you'd think that me being a black kid from the ghetto I'd be more into social activism and Danny being a white kid from the suburbs he would find the world okay the way it is but we're actually just the opposite. I think his naiveté and innocence let him believe the world is a wonderful place and every time he's confronted with evidence that it isn't he just naturally fights against it. He wants everything to be perfect and believes it can be. Growing up on tough city streets I saw the worst the world had to offer and became bitter and cynical at an early age. I never believed the world at large had that much good in it so I never thought of fighting for it, only struggling to make my own little piece of it a better place. Danny's become a bit more of a realist over the last couple of years but he's still got his idealistic enthusiasm. It shows whenever he talks about the Alliance. The others all see it as a place to hang out and make friends. Danny sees it as a way to change the world. And his rosy view of the world has rubbed off on me a bit, I guess. Maybe it's just living with him that has made me realize how good life can be. Anyway, I'm not quite the cynic I was, though I'm still more concerned with making my life better than with improving the world. Even so, I've been really enjoying this night class in Newark. I see how writing can change people one at a time and inspire them to change society. And there's something so good about being with other black kids in a class like this in the place where I grew up. I know Danny worries that being with him is taking me away from 'my people' and I always assure him that he's not, but I'd almost forgotten how good it feels to be with my brothers and sisters. A few of the kids in the class started going for coffee after class on Wednesdays and discussing the class and life in general. It was the kind of thing I hadn't experienced since the bull sessions in the dorm at the beginning of freshman year and even then I didn't fit in very well, but here I really got into it. Plus, Danny had his Alliance meeting so he was busy until late. As luck would have it, though, our anniversary fell on a Monday and I had class. We had decided to celebrate with a dinner out on Tuesday but I was still hoping for a little 'celebration' at home after class. On Mondays I was usually home around 8:30 but of course this was the one Monday the guys decided to go for coffee. I tried to get out of it but they were insistent. "What do you have to rush home for? It's early." James was a party guy who apparently never slept. "Yeah, but I have to get up early for school in the morning." They knew I had a roommate but I hadn't told them that I was gay or what my situation was so I couldn't really explain. "You don't have a problem staying out Wednesday nights. C'mon, you don't need that much sleep." "Okay, but hang on while I call my roommate." "You're a big boy, William. You don't need to check in with a roommate if you're gonna be out a little late. Let's go." Sharon had a way of making everyone feel like they ought to be doing what she wanted. There wasn't anything I could say that they would understand and besides, Danny and I hadn't made any plans, so I went with them to the coffee shop. It didn't seem like we hung around very long but it was after 10:30 when I got home. I knew as soon as I opened the door that I'd made a mistake staying out. Danny was curled up on the couch watching TV and the whole apartment smelled of food. "Where have you been? You're hours late. I thought something happened to you." "I went for coffee with the guys. It smells like you've been cooking. What's up?" "You should have called. I made dinner for our anniversary. Aunt Connie helped me. I wanted to surprise you. I was worried when you didn't come home on time. Now I'm just pissed." "I'm sorry, Dan. We didn't have any plans. I didn't think it was a big deal." "But it's our anniversary. Even if we weren't gonna do anything special you should have wanted to be with me." "I do want to be with you. I just couldn't think fast enough to come up with an excuse for the guys. They don't know I'm gay so I couldn't explain to them." "So who do they think I am? Or haven't you even mentioned me to them?" "They know I've got a roommate, that's all. Being gay just hasn't come up." Actually, the kids had made a few pretty homophobic comments about James Baldwin and Bayard Rustin so I kept my mouth shut on the subject. "And you'd rather be with them on our day?" "Don't be like that, Danny. You know I'd always rather be with you, no matter what day it is. I know it's late but do you want to eat now? We can stay up a while." "The food got ruined. I tried to keep it warm but after a while it just got overcooked so I threw it out." "I'm sorry, Danny. I really didn't mean to stay out so late. We'll have a nice celebration tomorrow, I promise." "Yeah, tomorrow. I think I'm gonna go to bed now. You can probably find something to snack on if you're hungry." "No, I'm not really that hungry. I'll go to bed with you." "If you want." We got undressed in silence and got into bed. I tried to hold Danny tight against me but he pulled away and moved over to the edge of the mattress. I knew he must be really upset. Even when he was annoyed with something I'd done or had something on his mind and wasn't in the mood for sex (a rare occurrence) he still liked to cuddle. Fuck! I really didn't think. Any other day it wouldn't have been so bad but I really screwed up this time. Danny was still in a bad mood in the morning. He moped all day at school and didn't talk much. It was nearly as bad when we went out to dinner to 'celebrate' that night. It's not like he was sulking or anything but he just wasn't his usual cute happy self. And when we went to bed it was the same thing again. A quick 'good night', a peck on the cheek and then he moved over to his side of the bed. I heard his rhythmic breathing indicating he was asleep as I lay on my back staring at the ceiling, wondering how I could fix this. Danny Our two evenings apart each week weren't turning out to be so bad after all. Mondays Billy was home by 8:30. Wednesdays he was later but I had the Alliance so that worked out fine. Except some of the new people I met at the meetings started teasing me, referring to Billy as my 'imaginary lover' since I always talked about him but they had never met him. Even with Frankie, Joanne and Eddie backing me up that he was real the kidding kept up. Billy and I had decided to delay our anniversary celebration a day so we could spend an entire evening together but I realized that gave me a chance to surprise him. Neither of us is very good in the kitchen but I think he's little better at cooking than I am. So I thought it would really surprise him to have a nice dinner waiting for him when he got home from class. I talked it over with Aunt Connie and she gave me her recipe for pot roast and showed me how to use her pressure cooker. I wasn't very good at timing everything so the food was done nearly half an hour before Billy was due. I put everything in the oven on low to keep it warm. When Billy didn't show up at 8:30 I figured he had missed the train and would catch the next one a half hour later. When he still wasn't home by 9:30 I didn't know whether to be worried or pissed. The later it got the more worry won out. Around ten I checked on the food and found that it was a mess. The meat was dried out and the potatoes and vegetables had turned into mush. I gave up and threw it all in the garbage, then laid down on the couch. I turned on the TV to distract me but it didn't help. I kept picturing Billy lying dead on the street in Newark. When I heard him at the door the worry evaporated and was quickly replaced by anger. He didn't help matters any by making light of it. Here I'd been a nervous wreck all evening and he'd been hanging out with his friends having a good time. He apologized but his attitude indicated that he really didn't think it was a big deal. I was so relieved he was all right but was really pissed that he had put me through such a tense evening and had messed up our anniversary. But I didn't want to fight about it so I just went to bed and kept to myself. Tuesday when I woke up it was still on my mind. I wasn't mad at him, just mad in general. I tried to be civil on the ride to school but ended up being more quiet than anything else. I just couldn't figure out what was bothering me so much. Yeah, he'd been a little inconsiderate and had worried me for a couple of hours and I'd ruined a meal because of it, but it really wasn't that important. And he did apologize, a couple of times. So what was my problem? I decided to cut a class and go over to Douglass to see Lucy. I had to talk to someone and Billy obviously wasn't the one. "Maybe there's something about Billy taking this course that's bothering you, Danny." "I don't know. I like him taking courses like this that are important to him. And I think it's important that he spends time with other black kids." "That's on a conscious level. But maybe subconsciously you're bothered that he's doing something that you don't fit into." "Well, I do miss being with him all the time, but I'm spending lots of time with the Alliance and he's not bothered by that." "That's different, Danny. He would fit right in with the people at the Alliance. The only reason he's not part of it is scheduling. But you could never fit into the little coffee group after his class. It's a part of him that you can't really share." "I hadn't thought of it that way, Lucy, but I still think it's a good thing for him to be a part of that, as long as I fit into the rest of his life." "You know you do, Danny. You are his life." "I know, Lucy, but last night, just for a minute, I felt almost like I wasn't important to him, like he forgot about me for a couple of hours. It was our anniversary and he's always been the romantic one, the one who keeps track of dates and makes special plans. And last night it just didn't seem to matter to him." "I'm sure it did matter, Danny. You can't think all of these terrible things because for a little while he was human and got distracted. He loves you." I was still out of it the rest of the day, thinking about what Lucy had said about me not being able to share every part of Billy's life. Maybe it was wrong of me to want to but I did. I wasn't mad at him, just confused about what I was feeling. Our dinner out wasn't exactly a celebration. Even if I weren't in a strange mood I think that our little spat the night before took the romance out of the occasion. Wednesday was more of the same bad mood. I think I was beginning to feel sorry for myself for some reason. And I was beginning to get annoyed with myself for being so insecure and needy. After our afternoon classes we parted at the train station as usual. Billy took the train to Newark and I drove home to get ready for the Alliance. By then I was starting to think that maybe the problem was that things between us were becoming so routine that he might be taking our relationship for granted. Maybe he was bored. Maybe it was all of these things. Maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe I was going crazy. I wasn't feeling any better when I got to the Unitarian Church but decided to try to act as normal as possible in front of the others. I walked into the meeting room and immediately noticed a vase with tons of red roses on the table in front of Joanne. Everyone was gathered around sniffing and admiring them. Joanne got up as I walked over and handed me a little envelope. "They're for you. Here's the card." I was stunned. The only time anyone had ever sent me flowers was when I was in the hospital. I fumbled with the envelope and read the card. 'Danny, you are everything to me and always will be. Please don't ever stop loving me. Billy.' One of the guys looked up from the roses. "Looks like this imaginary lover of yours just might be real." I looked from the card to the roses and smiled. "Yeah, he just might." October 1971 Lucy I'm really trying to throw myself into this last year of school. I'm doing all kinds of special projects and am spending a lot of time with the girls in the dorm. The boys make a special effort to be with me when I'm home and they're not working and I'm even seeing more of them at school this year than last. I get together with Billy on campus a lot because he has more free time during the day now that he's taking that night course in Newark. Of course, none of this makes me miss Brad any less. I think about him all the time. It's stupid. Last year I was here and he was up in Ithaca and we didn't see each other for weeks at a time and our only contact was letters. This fall he's stationed in California and again we're writing like crazy so it shouldn't be any different. But it is. I've begun working on a photo project that has been in the back of my mind for a couple of years, ever since Billy and Danny first modeled for me on Moratorium Day. I have so many pictures I took that day. I've been trying to categorize them. Some are close-ups, just dark skin on light skin, different shapes and sizes. That is really what I was looking for that day, a study in contrasting unidentifiable body parts, art more than portraiture and a bit abstract. And I've got lots of shots like that. Then there are pictures of the two of them, full body shots or close to it, in every position humanly possible and some that don't look quite possible. Just two beautiful young nudes, nearly identical except for their color. Definitely art as well, beautiful photos of beautiful subjects. And then there are the rest that I can only call erotic art. A few of them because of suggestive poses but most because of the look I captured in the boys' eyes. Their love for each other, their lust for each other is so evident in the way they look into each other's eyes. It is such an intense, intimate, primitive yet loving look that even though I was the one who took the pictures as I look at each one now I expect the next shot to be one of them making love. I feel, as I look at each one, that I've intruded on something very, very private, very, very personal. I have got to find a way to put these photos together into an exhibit of some kind. Yeah, they're erotic, damn are they erotic. But they are also art and I don't think anyone could look at them and not be moved. And isn't that what good art is supposed to do? Mark The semester was going good. Peter and I fell into a routine. Monday evenings I'd hang out at his apartment. His roommate had a class so we had the place to ourselves. Wednesdays we'd meet at Harvard for the gay group then have coffee afterward. And we'd usually spend the day and night together on Saturday. That gave us lots of sex on Monday and Saturday and a nice evening hanging out with some of the Harvard guys on Wednesday. Friday night I got a call from Tom, a senior at Harvard. "Ken and I are going out tonight and wondered if you and Peter wanted to come with us. We're gonna do some slumming and check out some sleazy bars." "Sounds like fun but Peter has his study group tonight." "Studying on Friday?" "Yeah, he says it's the only night they can all make it. But how about if I join you? I just finished a paper and could use a little relaxation." We made arrangements for me to meet them at a bar near downtown at 11:00. The neighborhood was really seedy and seemed to be nothing but porn shops and go-go bars with hookers and hustlers on most corners. Thank God Tom and Ken were already there when I walked in. Ken bought me a drink and we stood around and talked for a while. "Peter's taken me to lots of bars in town but I don't think we've ever been in this neighborhood." "I'm surprised. Everyone comes here, sooner or later. " "Why, Ken? This place is a real dive. What's the big attraction?" "You'll see. Grab another drink and follow us. Tom and I have a hot time whenever we come here." I got a refill and followed them to the back of the crowded room. We went through a doorway, turned right down a short dark hall and then through another door into a large fairly dark room. The light was very dim and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust. Even then I could just make out outlines and silhouettes of guys all around the room. It didn't take me more than a few seconds to realize this was one of those back rooms I had heard about and there were guys having sex all around us. I looked around. It sort of reminded me of the orgy room at the baths but it was a little darker and the guys had most of their clothes on. Some guys were fondling each other and making out. Some guys just had their pants open while another guy squatted in front of them and sucked their cock. Some others were just stroking each other. Here and there I saw a guy with his pants around his ankles, bent forward slightly, getting his ass fucked. Ken wandered off toward the back of the room but Tom stayed next to me. I noticed a little group off to the right side. One guy was bent over, his hands on his knees, getting fucked from behind. Another guy was standing in front of him blocking his head from view but it was obvious that guy was being sucked. Even though they were mostly shadows it was hot watching someone sandwiched in between two guys, getting stuffed with dick at both ends. I felt my rapidly hardening cock pressing against my jeans. Tom was watching the same guys. I think half the guys in the room were, actually. "That guy sure is working on getting his daily allotment of protein," Tom whispered. "Yeah, I've never seen a guy getting fucked at both ends before. It's really hot to watch." Just then the guy in front stopped thrusting his hips toward the other guy's head and froze for a few seconds. Then he made motions like he was fastening his pants and turned away. Just as he turned, Tom lit a cigarette. For a few brief seconds the flame lit up our end of the room. The guy who was still bent over getting fucked looked over toward the flame and my eyes locked with his ice blue eyes. Fuck! In a flash it was dark again and I turned and stumbled out of the room toward the bar. Tom was right behind me. "Mark, stop. Maybe it wasn't him. We only had a quick glimpse." "Yeah, right. You recognized him as well as I did. I've got to get out of here." ""Are you sure you're all right?" "No, but I need some air. I've got to go." I pushed my way through the crowd and out the door. I rushed up the block, finally stopping to lean against a building near the corner, trying to catch my breath. I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. Damn! Why did I have to go there? Why did he have to be there? I should have known something like this would happen sooner or later. Boston's isn't a very big city and the gay community is even smaller. Then I heard his voice calling, "Mark!" I turned and hurried around the corner, heading up toward Boylston, hoping to find a bus back to school. "Mark, wait!" I started to run. Tears were running down my face and I was stumbling. I didn't want to see him, didn't want him to see how much he'd hurt me. I'd almost reached the next corner when I felt a hand grab my shoulder. "Stop, Mark. Please don't run away from me." Peter turned me around and I collapsed in his arms, sobbing like a baby. He just held me and tried to soothe me but I couldn't seem to get myself under control. Finally I calmed down. "I'm sorry, Mark." "Sorry you did it or sorry I saw you?" "I'm sorry you're hurt. You've got to know how much you mean to me. I don't want to hurt you. Why can't you see that this doesn't mean anything? It's just some fun. It doesn't have anything to do with the way I feel about you." "How can it not have anything to do with me? Everything you do affects me." "I've never lied to you and tried to pretend to be anything I'm not, Mark. I hate to see you like this. You're not just the most important guy in my life; you're the only guy in my life. The rest is just casual sex, a moment's pleasure, that's all." "If it doesn't mean anything then don't do it, Peter. Just stop. Be with me." "We've been all though this, over and over, Mark. Can't you just enjoy what we've got?" "I wish I could but I'm not sure just what it is we've got. I need some time to think about it." When I got back to the dorm I went right to bed but didn't fall asleep. I just lay there thinking. Why couldn't Peter want me the way I wanted him? Why wasn't I enough for him? What should I do? I knew what I should do; I should walk away, leave him. That would end the hurt but it would end the joy, too. And I knew what I would do. Keep going on the same way, hoping for the best, afraid of the worst. But I knew I had no real choice. I realized that I'd fallen in love with him.