By The Way
Chapter 15
Typically there aren't a lot of stories in Nifty which are dedicated to
anyone in particular.
Rarely are individual chapters
dedicated. I've done it once or twice in the past for some
e-friends that I've grown fond of and I want to do it now as
well.
You'll see in this chapter how Paul finally sort of "gets it" when it
comes to really relating with
Alan.
And so I'll dedicate this chapter to The Hoss, who showed me the
importance
of conveying things in a little
bit more serious manner and not masking sincerity with cheap
disarm. He
may think I'm making a bigger deal out of his comments than I should,
but
anyone who can make this thick-headed son of a bitch (me) turn his eyes
inward and become a little more introspective.....well, I'll just leave
it at that. Enough navel gazing, and don't get your ego too
inflated. ;-)
* * * * *
I made it through the first part of that year with my guts
intact. That was really rough y'all. I was thankful that my
teachers
were willing to let me do some makeup work since I'd been
hospitalized so many times.
That spring quarter Kent was also in my psychology class, being crazy
as usual. The only problem with that was he sat right behind me
and would always lean up and whisper something really funny that would
make me burst out laughing in class. One time the teacher asked
everyone to write down on an index card things that they found
attractive about the opposite sex. I made something
up. Once we were finished the teacher collected all of the
note cards, which were unnamed, and read them off. He got to one
that said "Six feet, tan" only he misread it as "six feet-ten," then
shook his head saying something like "that's a tall guy" and Kent
leaned up and said "That way a short girl could just walk up and
milk." I burst out laughing in class and couldn't stop. By
now the other students had gotten used to my outbursts but I couldn't
stop this one. I had this mental image in my head of what Kent
described and couldn't get it out of my head. The damn thing
about Kent is
that he'd just sit back like nothing was ever said while I laughed my
ass off. The guy's a nut.
My finals were finished a week before Alan graduated. We didn't
get to see each other that last week because he was really studying
hard for his own exams. Leading up to his graduation ceremony he
and I had bickered a bit over whether or not he should hang out with
his buddies from school or with me. I thought he should see his
friends; he wanted to hang out with me graduation night. We
finally compromised and both went to one
of the several graduation parties together. At the team's
quarterback's house, I could see that he
was having a blast with everyone and after an hour or so I signaled to
him that I was about to leave. He followed me to the door.
"Come on Paul, can't you stay longer and hang out with everyone?"
"Dude, this is your night. Listen, I remember what it was like on
graduation night for me and I want you to have the same
experience. We can still get together tomorrow night or
whatever. Tonight....well hoss, it'll be one of the last nights
you get to hang with your buds for a long time. You need to just
do it."
"Oh come on, Paulie, everyone here knows you. They won't mind you
hangin' out." He was right. I'd been around a lot of his
friends and they were a fun bunch of guys.
" 'S okay man. I've had fun tonight, we got to hang out.
Trust me on this, you need to just chill with them, k?"
He rolled his eyes at me. "Fine."
"Dude, it ain't like I'm goin' to Siberia. Just give me a holler
sometime tomorrow." I really wanted to give him a hug so I
over exaggerated one since the other guys were so close by.
"Congrats, A.C." I said, pulling him to me
and slapping him on the back. He
hugged me back then we separated. I was tempted to do more than
that but stopped myself. His eyes said everything and mine
responded likewise.
Then, "A.C.?" he asked.
I smirked. "Yeah. My new nickname for you. A.C." I
repeated.
We looked at each other, each made a face and said "Nahhhhhh," at the
same time.
"G'night buddy, congrats again," I laughed, walking out the door.
Alan leaned against the frame, reached past the door where nobody could
see and smacked my ass.
"See ya, Paulie."
I laughed and saluted him as I walked away.
* * * *
I have this bizarre ability to remember dates and numbers. I'll
be the first to admit that I'm no Rhodes Scholar; I graduated with a
3.4 g.p.a. and got A's and B's in college, but I'm not what you'd call
quick on my feet when it comes to thinking. I went down with Alan
and his family to St. George Island on July 11th and returned on the
18th.
The reason that I remember those dates is not because while down there
we
ended up
watching the presidential convention, which was held in
Atlanta. There was another reason. I was glad, however, to
be out of
town that week so the stupidity of the northerners who had flocked to
Atlanta to cover the convention wouldn't suck whatever intelligence I'd
had right out of my
skull. What surprised me the most about that convention was how
many newscasters/commentators were going out to many different
locations looking for Tara. Yes, as in Tara from Gone With The Wind. They went
to Jonesboro, which is where the fictional plantation is located,
southwest of Atlanta, along with some other cities in the metro
area.
The last
I checked it was the Yankees who marched south from Marietta and then
through
Atlanta on their way to Savannah (which Sherman gave as a
gift to Lincoln for Christmas). I'm pretty sure the history books
have
mentioned a factoid or two about how many farms and plantations were
pillaged and burned on Sherman's march. Today we refer to it as
The Burning Of Atlanta. Duh! Now after that conflagration,
just
how many plantations did these newscasters expect to find, I ask
you.
But we must give the northerners their due and say that the fires were
actually started by Johnny
Reb; the Yankees just took the idea and ran with it, literally.
(Now's
when I
get to shine with my
history lesson, folks.) Atlanta was built at the site where
three
railroads converged: the Macon and Western, the Western and Atlantic,
and the Georgia Railroad. The city was first named Terminus,
because the rail lines all terminated there, before it's name changed
to Marthasville. In the 1840's or 50's it became
"Atlanta", supposedly the female version of the name "Atlantic".
The three lines converge at a point in the city now known as Five
Points, because eventually two more rail lines were built into the
city. All commerce started here and in general moved north
through the region. The W&A is the line heading east from
Five Points
towards Decatur, and it is along this line that you can still find old
factories. During the Civil War the city's armories and munitions
factories were located there. When it became clear that the city
was falling to the Yankees, the Rebs vacated Atlanta but not before
torching the factories to keep the Yanks from getting more
munitions.
To be truthful Tara, or the architectural vision of it, never really
existed in or around Atlanta. Greek Revival architecture became
popular in
the 1820's and 30's when Atlanta was barely a postal stop. The
vast majority of people in the region were
farmers and there weren't that
many plantations. The few plantation homes that did exist were
actually very simple wooden frame houses with a low porch across the
front. Very seldom in Georgia would you have found the
ante-bellum Greek Revival homes that you might find in Louisiana or
southern Mississippi, simply because the economy in the area wasn't old
enough and people weren't wealthy enough to import that sort of
architecture. Now you might see that in Savannah (where "Jingle
Bells" was written) because that's the oldest city in Georgia and the
hoi polloi in that city always have been in a rivalry with
Charleston. Macon
might have one or two "Taras" but again, that's an older city than
Atlanta. Nope, most of the agriculture in and around Atlanta was
farmed. Sorry newscasters! No Tara or plantations here!
But nope, it wasn't the convention that reminds me of the dates we were
in St. George. (Oh, he's back to his story). It was the
fact that the movie Die Hard
was released on Wednesday, July 15th and I was on an island in the Gulf
of Mexico, unable to see my favorite Hollywood hunk at the time, Bruce
Willis. Wednesday is not a common date for movies to be released
so that's one reason it sticks out in my head. See? I told
you I'd never be
a Rhodes Scholar. I was dying to go see it when it opened because
that's the kind of movie you have to see with a big audience. But
we'd have to see it when we returned to Stone Mountain.
Alan's parents drove down and the trip was about six hours or so, which
wasn't so bad. Alan's brother Steve wasn't coming down with us so
we were able to stretch out in the back seat without having someone sit
in the middle. We left mid morning and Alan and I both had
brought our pillows for the
ride down. Near the city of Columbus, which is along the central
Western
border of
Georgia, just at the beginning of the Fall Line, I'd finally fallen
asleep, my pillow on the window. Alan had dozed a while earlier
against his window. When I woke up, mouth hanging open, I
sat up and got my bearings. Sometime in my sleep I had leaned
back against the seat and was shoulder to shoulder with Alan, my head
drooped sideways in his direction. I sat forward and stretched,
groaning and rubbing the crick in my neck. Alan's dad looked into
the rear view mirror.
"Wakey, wakey--" he started to say but was interrupted by the pillow
flung at my head.
"eggs and bakey." Alan finished, smiling.
I'm not really nice after waking up, whether it's morning, noon or
night. I took the pillow and started squashing Alan against
the door frame with it.
"Wakey, wakey. Wakey, wakey,
" I mocked, pushing into him over and over. He laughed and shoved
me off.
"Fag," he laughed.
"Alan!" his mom said.
"You wish," I laughed back to him.
We were just crossing the Florida line and had a little less than an
hour before we hit Appalachacola, which was the mainland city just
north of the island. If you look at the panhandle on a map the
central portion sort of bumps down into the Gulf, and that's where we
were headed. I was looking forward to this trip as I hadn't had
one to the beach in about five years. My last family trip was
when we'd gone up to New York all together back in '85. Seemed
eons
ago yet it was only three years. I noticed several times Alan's
dad watching us in the
mirror. First he'd glance at me then at Alan. I was almost
feeling uncomfortable but that thought was fleeting. His pop was
really a super nice guy and his mom was a sweetheart. I'd been
around so much that it was usually taken for granted I'd be around
on holidays, after being with my own family first, of course.
We finally got down and crossed the main bridge onto the island
itself. You could see the remnants of the earlier one which was
destroyed by a hurricane in the previous year or two. Alan's dad
turned right as we got to the island. There were not a lot of
businesses. A couple of restaurants, one brand new the other one
old; a shop or two; a couple of low-rise condos; and then houses.
The far west end of the island was called The Plantation and you had to
go through a security gate to get into that. The house where we
were staying was a few houses outside that area and right on the
beach. Like all of the houses down there this one was on wooden
pilings high enough to park your car beneath, and the floor plan was
laid out
rather simply. The master bedroom was on one side of the house,
the den and kitchen in the middle, and two more bedrooms on the other
side. One bedroom directly faced the beach and the other faced
the road with a bathroom between the two. Across the back of the
house on the beach side stretched a deck that was open at each end and
covered in the
middle where the den stepped out onto it.
I immediately opened the deck door and stepped out, smelling the salt
air and feeling the ocean breeze on my face. What a beautiful
place, I remembered thinking. I couldn't wait to get some sun on
my skin. Being part Italian and part Indian (American) as well, I
get sort of an orangy-brown tan in the summer. I love the tight
feeling that your skin gets when you've been out in the sun for too
long, and then jumping in the warm Gulf to cool off. A
whole week at the beach and I knew that any vestiges
of the rough time I'd had with my stomach would be all but obliterated.
Alan's dad leaned out the door. "Y'all can take any room you
want." Inwardly I groaned. I wanted to sleep with
Alan
so bad but knew that we'd have separate rooms on this trip. At
least the trip across the hall was short. Since the Collins had
been here last year Alan decided to let me have the room on the ocean
side while he took the one facing the road. My protestations were
pointless and Alan won that discussion. I took my suitcase into
my room and he did the same. As we were unpacking Mr. Collin
peeked in from the den.
"Um...I said y'all can take either--" but was interrupted by Alan.
"We did, dad."
I turned to look at his father who had a bit of confused look on his
face. "Wasn't it sweet
of Alan to let me have the ocean view," I joked.
He still looked confused. "Uhh....yeah. I..." He
walked off back into the den and then I
was confused. Oh well.
After we'd all unpacked our bags we piled back into the car and headed
over to The Islander, which was the older restaurant we'd passed.
Apparently the newer one sucked, according to Alan. I wasn't used
to having seafood and ordered the fried shrimp. By the end of the
week I would be called "shrimp" because every night that's what I
ordered. His parents were cool and they of course
paid for everything on the whole trip. Being a well-mannered
young man one of the days that we were there I went out to buy
something for the Collins to show my appreciation. I bought his
mom a wrap which matched one of her bathing suits, and I bought his dad
a bottle of Crown. I figured that I'd get carded and have to
figure out something else but I guess out in the middle of nowhere it
didn't really matter.
Everyday we started out with breakfast and we each took turns
cooking. Then we'd hang out on the deck for a while before
heading down to the beach. On this island you normally didn't
stay on the beach too long because of the sand fleas.
Lovely. Every once in a while you'd come across the dead, nasty,
mushy carcass
of a jellyfish, and the crab holes which dotted the landscape.
The crabs came
out at night and you better watch out if you took a post-dusk walk.
Hearing the waves wash upon the shore was just the constant white
noise that I needed every night going to sleep. Alan and I fooled
around a little bit but felt awkward with his parents sleeping across
the house from us. His dad still was acting a bit strangely, and his mom kept
watching his dad, I'd noticed.
Every evening Alan and I would walk the beach until it became almost
too dark to see. I tried really hard to keep my mind off of the
fact that we were already halfway through summer, and that he'd be
going off to UGA to start football training in about two or three
weeks. I hated the idea of his leaving. My biggest fear was
the unknown. I'd managed to shrug a lot of mental weight from my
shoulders, but this was one thing that I just couldn't escape.
We'd been together for almost two years but I couldn't help but worry
about how things would turn in the fall.
I was thinking about that during one of our walks, not doing much
talking, when
Alan said, "Quarter."
"Quarter?" I asked.
"For your thoughts."
"I thought it was a penny," I smiled.
"Inflation," he said. I snorted out a laugh and kicked sand in
his direction. He just laughed. "What'cha thinkin'?"
I shook my head a little. "Oh, I'm just kvetching about the fall."
"The fall," he stated.
"Well, in a few weeks when you go off to UGA."
"Ahh," he nodded.
"Is that all you got to say?" I said half-jokingly.
"No. Are ya gonna miss me?" he smiled. I punched his
arm. "Oww."
"Hell yes I'm gonna miss you, doh-doh," I said.
"I know," he exhaled through his nose. "I am too."
We walked a little bit further along the shore, the wave edges
caressing over our
feet.
I broke the silence. "And what is it with y'all and these damn
scholarships, anyway! All so people can watch you play a
game." He laughed at
that. Again I was half-joking with
him. "I mean, here I want to design buildings for future
generations and I have to have practically a 1500 SAT to get into the
only architecture college around, and you get paid to run around and
knock people down." Alan laughed even harder. "I mean, I
can use some financial help too!" I was pulling his chain and he
knew it.
"Well, occasionally I get to run with the ball, too, ya know."
I nodded with pursed lips and he chuckled again. "Whatever."
"So Paul, how come you don't
play any sport?"
"Does knitting count?" He burst out laughing. "I've just
never really been good at any, I guess."
"Ever try anything?"
"Eh. When I was a kid I tried playing baseball for like, five
seconds."
"What happened?" he asked.
" 'Fraid of the ball," I chuckled.
"Come on, really," Alan said.
I just shrugged as we walked slowly up the beach. "Really.
I was. I was eight when I tried out for short stop, but once that
ball came towards me I sort of froze up."
"Why so late? I mean, most kids start playing younger than that."
I looked down at the sand as we walked and shrugged again. "I
guess nobody was ever around to teach me?"
He elbowed me playfully. "Oh, bullshit."
"I'm serious. My brothers are real close in age and they always
sort of did their own thing. And dad...." I paused.
"What."
I shrugged again. Alan responded by grabbing my shoulders and
moving them up and down. "Will you quit shrugging," he
laughed. I knew he was trying to get me to laugh but I jerked
away from his grasp.
"Dammit, Alan. My dad just wouldn't--he never...."
"He never what?" this time with a little concern in his voice.
I stopped walking. "He never....asked
to do anything."
"You're kidding," he said incredulously.
I shook my head 'no'. "I can't think of a single time growing up
when he asked if I just wanted to play catch or anything. He was
always busy with work."
"Oh, come on Lyons. No
way."
"You douche, I ain't tellin' you nothin'." I was sort of peeved.
"Wait, now. You're serious, aren't you."
I was getting a little irritated. "Yes, Alan, my dad never wanted
to play ball with me. He always did with my brothers, but never
once with me. We're not exactly close like you and your dad."
He stood there for a second and I could see in his face that I may have
jumped at him.
"I'm sorry," I said, calming down. "I shouldn't have griped at
you. I
didn't mean to," I said resuming our walk.
"I guess that's a sore subject?"
"Ya think?" I chuckled. "It's not like you would've known,
though.
The topic's never come up."
"I just can't...imagine not playing ball with my kid," sounding
somewhat astonished.
"Try being on my end of that equation. I guess one thing that I
never understood was why?
I mean, what was it about me that made
him...not want to do anything?" Alan was silent. "You know,
it's
funny because for a long time I always thought that he didn't like me."
"That's not very funny. But why'd you think that? Because
he wouldn't play catch?"
"No. Because he never really showed an interest in things that
I'd done." I thought about this for a second. "No, I should
take that back. Sometimes he and I would play tennis in the
street in front of our house, but only if I asked. And when I was
in gymnastics--"
"You were in gymnastics?" he chuckled.
I punched him in the arm again. "For a year, yes! And
what's wrong with
that, my friend?"
"Nothin', gymnastic-fag." He got two punches for that one.
We joked like that with each other a lot, calling each other names.
"Hey, I actually enjoyed it, and dad always took me to practice."
"So he was involved."
"Hmmm. Only if I instigated it."
Alan nodded.
"I wish I had," I said after a few moments silence.
"Wish you had what?"
"I wish I'd played some sort of team sport. I think there's
a
sort of bond that you guys in sports have that...well, I'm not sure
exactly
what it is."
"No, you're right. There's a camaraderie that you don't just find
in everyday situations."
"Exactly! Which is one of the reasons I wanted you to have your
graduation night with your friends. I'm older. I know these
things," I preened. Again I was half-kidding.
"You idiot," he snorted, "you're only six months older than I am."
"Yeah, but I'm in college
now!" We both laughed at that.
"Ready to head back? It's gettin' kinda late," he said. The sun
was just a thin sliver floating on the edge of the
gulf. That only meant one thing.
Time for the crabs to come out.
We turned and walked a little bit more in the rolling tide, heading in
the direction of the slowly rising moon. He put his arm around my
shoulder as we walked and kept it there as I leaned into his side,
bringing my own arm around his waist. This was the first time
that we were showing any sort of affection in public. Granted it
was dark outside and we couldn't be seen, but it felt great.
"I wish things were different for you growing up. I'm sorry about
your dad," he said.
I sighed. "Me too. But things are good now." Then I
thought for a second.
"Speaking of dads, what's up with yours?"
"Huh?"
"I dunno, it seems like he's always...looking at us funny, like he
suspects something."
"Oh. That.
Well....." he started to say but stopped.
"Well what?"
"Well, he more than suspects....
he knows."
"Do what?" I asked.
"About us. He knows."
That got my attention.
"Say what?"
He stopped walking and turned to me. "I had a sit-down with my
parents before we came down here."
"And?"
"And what?"
"What did they say, goober smooch?"
"Well, you're here with us, aren't you?"
I thought for another second or two. "Do you think he was asking
for us to pick which room we
wanted when we got here."
We started walking again, our shoulders and arms brushing and bumping
against each other.
"Mmm hmmm," he said.
I playfully smacked him on the back of his head and said "Get
out!" Alan just laughed.
"Dude, right now I can't imagine you and I sleeping in the same bed
with my
parents in the same house, though. It's just too....weird."
"Gee thanks," I feigned hurt. I got an elbow in my side for
that. I knew what he meant. Hell, we were eighteen and that
just seemed like a line you didn't cross in your own parent's
house. Or at least if they were under the same roof.
We walked in silence until we were about halfway back to the house when
Alan spoke up again.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Yep."
"Well....this sounds...I feel funny asking...."
"Ask me."
"Well, whenever we're....I dunno...together--"
"When we have sex," I corrected.
"Yes!"
"You're welcome."
"Thanks," he laughed. "Whenever we're together..." He
paused again.
I stopped walking and turned to look at him. "Alan. What."
He took a deep breath and I could tell that whatever he was about to
ask me had been on his mind for a while. "Well, when we have
sex--"
"Make love," I corrected,
smiling at him. This time I got
a punch
in the arm. "Owww fuck!"
"Yeah, when we do that!" We both laughed. "Seriously,
Paul...why
do you always...receive?"
Wow. I wasn't expecting that. "Alan, I'm
not really sure how to explain it," I said slowly. "I
just...well, I just want you to be...so much a part of me....God, how
do I say this." I struggled for the right words. "I feel
that when I receive you it's the most important way
that I can show that I'm giving myself to you. Totally.
When you're...inside...it's like my world is complete. Know what
I'm saying? I've taken you physically and mentally, well, into me
and I can feel that you're a part of me."
His expression looked so eager, almost childlike. "But what if I
want to give myself to
you? That way?" I
took a deep breath. He was being so
sincere and looked so
vulnerable, and it blew me away.
"Oh Alan," I said, "oh my God," I muttered.
"What?" he asked, the eager look still on his face.
What he was saying hit me like a ton of bricks, and my eyebrows started
twitching. "I've been so....selfish.
I never once considered
you'd want that too. C'mere," and I pulled him to me and
held him. His face was in the crook between my neck and my
shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around my back. I let my
fingers caress his scalp and he moaned a little bit into my neck.
I pulled back and reached to hold his jaw in my hands. "I love
you. God, so much." I leaned in and kissed him in the dark
of night. It was a deep and eager kiss, our chests pressed
together, his hands pulling me into him.
It was a while before we heard the clicking and pattering on the sand.
We broke our kiss and said "Crabs!" at the same time.
It was dark and the beach was no place to be when those bastards came
out. In the growing moonlight, if you looked closely, you could
see
the sons of bitches running all over the place. Fuck! We
were still about a half-mile from the house.
I laughed and said "Run!", pushed him towards the water, then hauled
ass down the beach knowing that it would take about a nanosecond for
him to catch me. I could hear his footsteps pounding behind me,
all the while he was hollering at me and I was laughing my ass off.
"You son of a bitch!" he laughed.
"Uh huh!" I kept running as hard as my legs would pump. I could
hear that he was about to catch up with me then I noticed that the
fuckin' crabs were chasing us! I stopped short and he ran past me
a few feet, then the crabs scurried by a bit past him before stopping.
"Your ass is mine Lyons."
"Not if I get you first" and
I lunged forward in a feeble attempt to hook my arm around his
chest. I lost and he flipped me around into the water where I
landed on my back.
"Oh God!" Pretending I was hurt I arched my back and thrashed my legs
as the night tide
washed over me.
"Paul? Oh fuck, you okay?" he leaned over me. I winked at
him and he said "Oh fu-" when I grabbed his shirt and flipped him over
me and into the water. I got up and ran as fast as I could
towards the house, trying to dodge all of the crabs. The dry sand
squeeked beneath my feet and I could hear him again pounding up behind
me. I turned on the juice and felt his fingertips on my waist so
I twisted my body and slipped out of his grasp.
"Fucker," he said and I laughed.
As we neared the steps to the house I slowed down and said "Time!
Time
out!"
"Time out my ass," he said,
then he plowed into me and knocked me on my ass. He got back up
and it took a second
but I finally got a breath and started laughing.
"Boy, you play rough," I
said, holding my hand up to him. Alan took it and I tried pulling
him
down but he stood there, solid as granite. I flexed my arm an
pulled myself up. I looked up to see if his parents were up on
the deck. They weren't so I pulled him into a kiss.
"Man," he said. "I need a shower," he flashed his eyebrows.
I sighed. "Wish I could join you, hoss." I leaned in to
kiss him again but he kicked my feet out from beneath me and I fell on
my ass, then took off after him when he ran up the stairs into the
house. As
we ran through the den I hollered at him "You shit!" then "Sorry Miss
Collin!" when I saw his parents sitting there watching
television. She shook
her head and grinned as Alan slammed the bathroom door shut in my
face. His parents looked up at me as I came back into the den,
breathing hard. "That boy's crazier then a peach orchard sow!"
and they laughed. I headed out to the deck and took a seat to
watch the still-rising moon, then propped my feet up on the railing.
"Would you like a drink?" Alan's dad said, stepping out on the
deck. I turned to look and he had a small tumbler extended out to
me. "Thought I'd share some of this Crown with you." That blew me away.
'Um..uhh...yeah! Sure," I stammered.
"Hey, I was your age once, remember?" Then he sat down in the
chair
next to me. A few thousand things were going through my
mind. His dad was really cool, but we'd never really sat and talked before. I think he
sensed my nervousness. "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," he
smiled.
I smiled and took a drink. "Jack and Coke."
"It's not too strong?" he asked.
"No sir, it's fine."
"Paul, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but you've been around
enough and you're old enough to call me Ben."
"Uh...thank you sir," I said.
"Ben," he repeated.
"Yes sir. You'll forgive me if it takes me a while to get used to
that," I smiled.
"I understand. We all have things to get used to. Right?"
Gulp. I took a deep breath and another drink.
"Paul, I never would've guessed that you and Alan were...are...an
item," I listened and kept my eyes on the moon. "Mrs.
Collin--Allison--and I...well, we don't have a problem. I'm
sorry if I've acted a bit strangely lately around you. I
apologize if I've made you uncomfortable in any way."
I shook my head. "Mr. Collin, it's okay. I
understand. I guess it's like, when you're looking down a curving
railroad track you're expecting to see a diesel engine coming towards
you
eventually, but then here comes this jet
airplane rolling towards you
and you're like, 'oh crap'."
He laughed out loud. "You know, that's exactly what it's like."
I smiled to myself.
"You're a good guy, Paul." I blushed and took another sip of my
drink. "Have you told your parents about...."
"I told them about me about a year and a half ago. They asked
about Alan but I lied and told them no."
"How come?"
"Well, sir, I figured that if Alan wanted to tell them, or anyone for that matter, it was up
to him and not me. I mean, the guy still had a football rep,
right? Not a lot of gay guys on the gridiron, I'll bet." I
looked over at his dad. He smiled slightly and nodded.
"I was wrong about you. You're not just a good guy, Paul, you're
a really good guy."
I just smiled and held up my glass. "Here's to the good
guys!" Immediately I felt like a moron, but his dad just chuckled
and toasted me back.
Just then Alan stepped out onto the deck. "Wha'chyall up
to?" He was wearing loose shorts and I could tell that there was
no underwear beneath. His tank top showed off his physique quite
nicely, along with the hair that was now starting to grow across his
pecs. Man!
"We're toasting the good guys, Alan," his dad said and gave me a wink.
"Well here I am!" from Alan. We all laughed, then his dad stood
up and took my empty glass.
"Another?" he asked.
"Yes, please, Mr. Collin."
"Ben," he corrected.
"Ben."
"You want one Alan?"
"Yeah dad, thanks." His dad went inside and returned with two
tumblers of j-and-c.
"Well guys, we're heading off to bed. Who's gonna catch the
sunrise with me tomorrow?"
We both groaned at the idea of getting up that early on vacation.
Mr. Collin laughed and went back inside. The two of us sat in our
chairs looking through the railing at the gulf below and the moon
above. We didn't talk at all, just enjoyed each other's
company. Finally I stood up and announced that I'd be taking a
shower too.
"Can I join you?" Alan asked.
"Dude, I'm comfortable around your folks, but not that comfortable." He smiled
and I leaned down to kiss the top of his head. It smelled fresh,
like shampoo. Oh, man.
After my shower I put on a pair of cotton shorts and headed back to the
deck. When I reached where Alan was sitting I started rubbing his
shoulders and his head lolled slightly on his neck as he moaned.
"You have magic in your hands, Paulie." I smiled and rubbed his
jawline then down the sides of his neck, concentrating just below his
hairline. He sighed. Slowly I worked my way down the front
of his neck to his pecs before slipping my hands beneath his tank to
feel his chest. He was definitely at attention as I bent over to
reach further down his abs and into his shorts. Definitely at full attention down
there.
"Let's go inside," I whispered and he kissed the side of my neck.
When he stood up he was so tented out that the front of his waistband
pulled away from his stomach. Christ! I think I probably
licked my lips because he chuckled a bit.
We walked into my room and shut the door, then Alan practically
attacked me, pulling my body to his and kissing me all over my mouth
and neck. I had to stop him from sucking on my neck and giving me
a hickie. He was pretty talented with his mouth. I felt
like the luckiest guy on earth as he pushed me back onto the bed.
All of the windows in the room were open and the sea breeze wafted in,
as welcome as the memory from when I was a kid looking into my
neighbor's back yard that long-ago night.
I rolled Alan onto his back and he pulled off his tank top while I slid
his shorts down. I had never ceased to be amazed by him.
Immediately I put my lips onto the head of his cock which was leaking a
good bit already. I swirled my tongue around it and rotated my
mouth back and forth, round and round on it, getting it slick with my
spit. I'd learned that if you took a really deep, quick breath
through your nose that you could get cock even further down your
throat. After a few deep breaths his balls were squashed against
my
chin and his head was turning back and forth on the bed. I could
barely move my tongue around while I gently pulled at his swollen balls
with my fingers. I pulled my mouth up and then plunged back
down. Alan growled low in his throat when my fingers found his
hole and started tickling it.
After a few minutes of this sweet torture I pulled my mouth off of his
cock and pushed his knees up, exposing his entire ass to me. I
looked up and Alan was just watching me, so I slowly bent over, our
eyes still locked, and flicked my tongue out to graze his
asshole. He pushed his head back into the mattress but I kept my
eyes on him. I licked him over and over, up and down his crack,
getting him all nice and slick. Once I'd driven him relatively
crazy I latched my lips onto his hole and flipped my tongue around on
him. More groans from his neck. Then, sticking my tongue
straight out I rocked my head back and forth with my lips still
stretched around his hole, and tongue fucked him. He responded by
gyrating his hips and ass into my mouth. I reached around his leg
and started jacking him slowly.
"No, don't! I'm like, almost there. Please." I
released him and licked as far in and around him as I possible
could. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and gripped the pillow
with the other. "Fuck. Do it Paul. Fuckin' do it
right now!" he demanded in a whisper. As I parted I licked up his
balls then up his shaft to his head. I deep throated him one more
time and he almost managed to buck me off, but I released him and went
to my suitcase where I had some lube.
Alan shifted around on the bed so that his head was on the pillow and
then bent his knees to his chest.
I smiled. "Damn, son. You are
ready aren't you?"
He just nodded.
I put some of the lube on my fingertips and started rubbing them around
his hole, slipping one and then two fingers in. He closed his
eyes as I twisted my fingers in and out of him. I was hard as
granite and leaking like a sieve. I got him ready with a third
finger before squeezing out a line of lube onto my own cock. God damn I was ready for this.
"You ready?"
Alan just nodded and smiled a bit. I leaned in and put the hard
and spongy head against his hole. I pushed and could hear that
Alan had taken a deep breath. "Push out. With your
abs." He did and my dick head slipped in. Alan's eyes got a
little wider as my cock started to push it's way in. "You okay?"
I asked.
He shook his head quickly and said "Hang on a sec."
I rubbed his legs and pecs as his breathing returned to normal, then he
said. "Ok."
Slowly I pushed a couple of inches inside of him, then pulled back out,
then a few more inches back in. After a minute or so I went all
in and he laughed and groaned in his throat as my balls became seated
against his ass. He was so fuckin' tight, and I just stayed put,
not moving. When I finally went to pull out his body twitched a
bit. Bingo! I slipped my head back and forth over his
prostate and drove him nuts. I sat back and slipped my legs out
from beneath me and under his thighs. From this angle I was able
to hit his prostate over and over and over. I knew what he was
feeling, but it was different for me being at this end.
I reached forward and with my hand behind his neck, pulled him into a
sitting position--my favorite. One
of my favorites. He
leaned in to kiss me and I quickly lubed up my palm before grasping his
formidable cock in it. He sighed into my mouth as I kept the
constant rocking motion in my hips going. The whole time I was
thrusting into him his dick was fucking my slick hand. Suddenly
he grabbed my head and started moaning more urgently into my
mouth. I could tell that he was near cumming. I held onto
his shoulders tightly and kept thrusting into him, picking up speed a
little bit.
"MMMMMMMM!!!" he moaned into my mouth as I felt the first spatters of
cum shoot out of him onto our chests and my hand. His ass gripped
me even more and that was all she wrote for me! I fell onto him,
pushing him onto his back and deep dicked him twice before losing my
load inside of him. I took my mouth off of his and whispered,
"Fuck! Shit!" before collapsing onto his chest.
We were both heaving, trying to get our breaths. I felt the
warmth of his cum between us and I lay my jaw onto his shoulder. "God, I love you," I said quietly.
"I love you too." We were still breathing hard.
"Fuck! No wonder you
like to receive!"
I laughed quietly at that.
"Selfish," he continued. "Keeping that all to yourself," then he
smiled. I kissed him and lay my head back on his chest, feeling
his hairy pecs against my cheek and tracing his bicep with my
fingertips. We lay like that for a few minutes before shifting
around where he was laying behind me, spooning against my back.
He draped
his arm over my chest after pulling the sheet over our waist.
Before I drifted off to sleep I was soothed by the sounds of the waves
on the beach, my best friend and lover at my side, and I knew I could
do this forever.....
* * * *
I woke up pretty early the next morning as the eastern sky was
brightening
with the rising sun. I stretched and remembered Alan's dad's
comment about the sunrise, then surprised myself by jumping up and
putting my shorts on. Then I put his tank top on and headed
towards the door. "Alan!" I whispered out loud. No
response. "Alan!" a little louder. He jolted slightly and
grunted. "Alan, get up and check out this sunrise!"
"Awww, dad...." he groaned. I laughed and pulled the pillow off
of his face.
"Come on, dude, get'cha ass up!" I couldn't move him though,
freakin' mound of muscle. "Up!" I shouted and flung the sheet
off. That got his
attention, especially since he was still naked. Oh fuck!
It dawned on me that we'd slept together with his parents across the
house! He sat up
groggily and rubbed his face, pulling the sheet back up.
"I'm gonna get you for that, Lyons."
"I'm countin' on it. Now come check out this sunrise!"
I headed out to the deck and saw Alan's dad standing there drinking a
cup of coffee. I walked over and stood next to him as the first
rays made their struggle over the horizon. "Morning Mr.
Collin." He just smiled into his cup. "Sorry, some habits
are hard to break." He just nodded as Alan stumbled through the
door onto the deck.
"Where's the frickin' sun," rubbing his face. He walked over and
stood next to me, his body swaying from sleep. The sun finally
made it's way over it's last hurdle to starting a new day.
"Beautiful," I said.
"Isn't it," his dad said.
After a few minutes Alan grunted and said, "Okay, I've seen a
sunset. Sunrise. Gone back to bed, y'all. See
ya." He shuffled back into the house while his father and I stood
there laughing at him.
As the sun made it's way slowly above the horizon I regretted being
selfish for so long with Alan. Selfish because I'd never offered
him the same physical pleasures that he'd been able to give me time
after time. Selfish because in a way I'd kept him from having the
feeling of giving himself completely to me and denying him the emotions
that go along with that. God, how could I not see that? I knew that for our
relationship to grow even more that I couldn't be the only one to give
all of myself, he had to do it as well; and he could only give himself
if I
allowed it. Then we'd truly be each other's
equal. I pondered that a while longer and felt good about where
our relationship would go from here. I felt like Alan and I were
like a pair of well worn jeans: we each had our own thoughts,
feelings and personalities, but we were still together as one.
God, I loved him so much. I saw us together forever--then, when I
was
eighteen.
But the sunrise that morning was one that I've never forgotten.
* * * * *
* * *
Y'all, there's more to come. Thanks for sticking around this
long. I've put more detail into this story than I originally had
planned. The problem is (if indeed it is a problem) that as I
write things down memories come flooding back and it's important to
sort out the relevant things that happened along the way. I've
discovered during the writing process that certain circumstances are
more life shaping than I originally thought that they were at the time
they happened.
Copyright 2005 - Mark Logan