Date: Mon, 10 Jan 2005 08:33:49 -0800
From: edtimoria@hotmail.com
Subject: The Hound of God part 3

The Hound of God
By: Edwin e.

Disclaimer: Do not read this if you are offended by stories involving
male/male relationships, or in an area that prohibits your viewing of such
material. This story is copyrighted to me, Edwin e, so don't reproduce it
without my permission.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone (other than myself) is
entirely coincidental.

READ THIS: There is a little bit of Spanish in this story. For any
non-Spanish speakers out there, an English translation follows in
brackets. Peace.

Part III: things change

The morning following my Epiphany, I thought the sun would shine a little
brighter, water would taste a little sweeter, birds would sing a little
louder... Isn't that what's supposed to happen when one undergoes such a
dramatic positive shift? No? Hmm. Then I guess I've been watching too many
Disney movies. The truth is the world didn't change that morning - or the
day after - or the weeks that followed.

For my part, I did embark on what I considered a course of reconciliation.
Although my top priorities never wavered - my studies, my music, and my
volunteer work - I was quite successful in being a better friend toward
those I interacted with on a regular basis. I opened up significantly to
people who were interested in my life and even feigned more interest in the
lives of those I cared very little for. I was invited to a lot more parties
and was hit on by quite a few girls (which, though flattering, made me want
to vomit).

Although the invitations to all these new opportunities were constantly
laid before me, I never took advantage. It turns out I'm antisocial by
nature, not habit. Six weeks rolled by and my life wasn't drastically
different. The benefits to this new semi-open lifestyle seemed lost on
me. In fact, there were only two people who seemed to benefit a great deal
from my sudden "transformation": Gabriel and Dominic.

I knew Gabriel was very surprised when I suddenly showed genuine interest
in his life. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, he took every
opportunity to bring our friendship closer. We started seeing more of each
other during school; making a point to hang out and talk during breaks and
lunch. We'd often walk to the downtown area and grab some ice cream or
something and just talk. We talked on the phone a lot more - though nothing
too extensive. I learned a lot about his hobbies and his family during
those phone calls. The past few months had been tough on him: his
grandmother, which whom he was very close, was battling cancer. Speaking
from experience, I knew how tough that could be. Even during the gloomiest
of days, of which he had many, we were always able to cheer each other
up. I liked being this close to him, I really did.

I feared that this growing connection would make it that much more
difficult for me to control my feelings around him. But the opposite ended
up being true. My sexual desires were pushed aside as we became true best
friends. That's not to say I still wasn't attracted to him. I constantly
fantasized about grabbing his ass, or giving him a nice blowjob. But a
fantasy is merely that - a fantasy. It is an escape FROM reality, not
necessarily a hope FOR reality. The fact that he had dated the same girl
for the past year helped me to accept his being unattainable. It may just
be me, but knowing the sheer impossibility of our being intimate is enough
to help me get over him. I have him as my best friend, and that's enough
for now.

Dominic, too, made an attempt to strengthen the relationship between us -
which wouldn't have been too difficult seeing as how we didn't have any
sort of relationship in the first place. Things had changed immediately
following that altercation in my house. He returned to school a reformed
person. Each day - for weeks on end - consisted of him being nice to
everyone, and I mean EVERYONE. His friends, the geeks from the drama club,
teachers, janitors, he made it a point to treat everyone with at least some
respect. At first I feared that he was doing all this for the wrong reason:
being nice simply as a ploy to show me he changed in order to hook up with
me (in which case he would be doing more harm than good).

Two weeks after that fateful day, I saw Dominic eating lunch by himself and
decided to talk with him for a few minutes.

"So I hear you're volunteering for an after-school program now," I said as
I sat down opposite him.

"Yeah," he responded with a smile (this was one of the few times I went out
of my way to talk to him). "I figure soccer's the one thing I'm really good
at, so I might as well use it for some good. I help coach at a program for
'at-risk youth'."

"That's really great Dominic," I said as I took a bite of my sandwich. "Um,
you're not doing that because of things I said, are you?" Subtlety isn't my
strong suit.

"No," he said looking right at me - the smile since faded. "I mean, I'm
hoping it'll help me score some points with you, but that'd just be an
added bonus. Your rejecting me really helped to put some things in
perspective. I didn't like the feeling of being rejected. That night, after
we talked, I went home and just thought for hours. After getting over my
own feelings, I realized that I probably made a lot of people feel the way
you made me feel. Take that kid over there," he said as he pointed to a
geeky-looking kid who was sitting by himself on the other side of the
quad. "I picked on that freshman all semester. If he felt half as bad as I
felt when you hit me... well, then I have a lot to answer for."

I continued to stare at the poor kid who seemed so lonely. I could tell
what he was thinking (if, like me, his thoughts came in the form of song
lyrics): 'QUIERO QUE MIS AMIGOS, SIN QUE SE OFENDAN, ME DEJEN SOLO/POR QUE
ME DA VERGUENZA LLORAR CON ELLOS MIS SUFRIMIENTOS' [I want my friends,
without getting offended, to leave me alone/Because I feel ashamed to cry
in front of them over my suffering]. I turned to look at Dominic as he
stared at the boy. I sensed a deep empathy from this reformed jock. I was
amazed! Sure Dominic could just be paying lip service, but I felt the odds
against that.

"Wow. I guess you're finally living up to your name," I said taking another
bite of my sandwich.

"Um, what do you mean?" he asked.

"Oh, well, before St. Dominic de Guzman was born, his mother had a dream of
a dog carrying a torch in its mouth. She thought it was a prophetic vision
of her son's destiny so she named him Dominicanis (or Dominic for short),
which from Latin translates into 'Hound of God.' That's where we get the
name. Like I said, you're finally living up to it," I repeated.

"Wow. I didn't know that's what it meant. But the term probably isn't that
appropriate for me - I'm not religious at all," he said.

"That's cool if you're not, but it doesn't matter. Just treating those
around you with respect and compassion is, in a way, doing God's work," I
said while taking the last bite of my sandwich. With that I said goodbye
and left him. When I had walked a few yards and turned back, I saw him
eating his lunch next to the geeky kid he had mentioned earlier. The
freshman looked mighty stunned, but talked with Dominic nonetheless. Things
sure were different.

Dominic's no longer being a huge dick made it easier for me to say hi to
him in the halls, or have the occasional lunch with him. Under other
circumstances I would have kept my distance; but the truth is, he intrigued
me. It's not everyday a closeted gay boy gets a confession of, what amounts
to obsession, from the star jock. Shit like that doesn't happen in real
life. And try as I might to doubt the veracity of his claims, I found
myself thinking about it a great deal. I'm not known for curiosity getting
the better of me, but in this case I couldn't help remaining interested.

So Dominic ended up inching closer and closer into my life. In six weeks he
gradually climbed the ranks of my friendships. Of course, he was nowhere
near the level as Gabriel, but his impact was still considerable. Unhappy
with his B in Pre-Calc, I agreed to tutor him for real. Other than the
tutoring sessions, we never spent much time together outside of scho ol - I
felt that wouldn't be prudent on my part. But we talked on the phone a
couple of times a week, getting to know each other a little better.

Despite my overture of friendship, I wasn't willing to fall for Dominic. A
romantic relationship with anyone is unacceptable. Period. Fearing that his
charm might get the better of me, I made sure to keep myself physically
distant from him. In those six weeks we became friends I never once touched
him. There were no hugs, no handshakes, and no reassuring pats on the
back. I would do anything to make sure we remained just friends.

Despite my efforts to drill into him the notion of a platonic friendship,
he persisted. Every tutoring session ended the same way: him asking me out
to dinner. Time seemed to embolden him. He wasn't afraid of tossing me
seductive smiles during school, or trying to scoot closer than normal at
lunch. What I liked the most about him though, was that he turned out to be
someone I could talk to seriously about being gay. Those conversations were
few and far between, but they were nice. This, however, put him at odds
with Gabriel.

Through it all, there was a level of tension gradually emanating between
those two. Whenever Dominic's name slipped into conversation, Gabriel would
get this annoyed look on his face. And the same was true with Dominic; it
got to the point where I tried very hard to not mention one's name in the
vicinity of the other.

For the life of me I couldn't understand why there was an unspoken
hostility between them. Well, I guess that's not entirely true. Dominic
supposedly had feelings for me, and I gathered he might be somewhat jealous
of how close Gabriel was in my life. But Gabriel was another story. He was
already my best friend, why should he be bothered that I began spending a
little more time with Dominic? Oh, well. I could worry about all of that
later; now it was time to tutor.

"So how did you do on your test?" I asked Dominic as we began a tutoring
session six weeks to the day we came out to each other.

"B+," he answered with a sense of defeat in his voice.

"That's really good, you should be happy."

"Yeah, I guess. My parents were thrilled, but I was hoping for a little
better, he said."

My mom came into the dining room and asked us if we wanted anything to
eat. She had grown to like Dominic since he started coming over week to
week. I had told her in the very beginning how I didn't like him all that
much and was regretting agreeing to be his tutor. She was the one who told
me to give him a chance and stick with my responsibilities. As was often
the case, she was going to visit my uncle around the block so we wouldn't
be distracted. Dominic usually took these moments attempting to tear down
the walls I kept trying to place between us.

"Have dinner with me," he said a mere moment after my mom closed the door
on her way out. I was very upset at how much effort it was taking me to
resist his charm. 'It shouldn't be this difficult,' I would say to
myself. For God's sake, it was only six weeks ago that I wanted to beat the
holy hell out of him. Why couldn't he have found someone else to bother?

"No," I smiled. "Now focus. We only have a few more sessions before winter
break." I tried to get him back to studying but he would just stare at me
for relatively long periods of time.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Sure, as long as it has to do with Pre-Calc," I answered.

"Why haven't you come out yet?" he asked as he continued to stare at me.

"Um, that doesn't have anything to do with math," I said, slightly stunned
at the randomness of his question. Over the last few weeks we had talked
about people we thought were cute, classmates we thought might be gay, and
even our feelings about being closeted. But we never really had a
conversation on the possibility of coming out to others.

"No, seriously. Your parents are friggin' great. They obviously love you
and from what you've told me about them, they would be very accepting if
you told them you were gay. And you have tons of friends who feel the same
way about you. The situations seem right for you to come out. I think it
might make your life easier. I can see how much it still hurts you to hide
from so many people."

"It's complicated Dominic. Plus, you're one to talk," I said getting a
little flustered.

"My parents would be nowhere near as tolerant as yours. They're pretty
conservative in just about everyway, so I've never dreamed about telling
them," he continued, not paying attention to my first response. "Plus
you've seen my friends: not exactly the most tolerant bunch. But I can wait
to come out when I move out of here, go to college, make new friends and
leave my parents behind. But I'm curious about you. If I had your parents
and friends, I would have come out years ago and lived my life the way I
wanted."

"Yeah of course YOU would," I muttered under my breath.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked rather innocently.

"Nothing," I responded. I was hoping he hadn't heard me. "Let's get back to
this," I held up the Pre-Calc book reminding him why he was here in the
first place.

"Tell me what you mean Edwin," he said rather forcefully. Shit. There was
no way of getting around it. Though Dominic turned out to have a gentle
soul, he still had a determined and deliberate streak to his personality. I
put down my book and looked right at him.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Dominic. I just..." I sighed. "I just think
that if your parents are your only reasons for staying in the closet, then
you must have it pretty easy."

He stared at me as if I'd just killed his pet or something. He had one of
those looks of surprise and confusion, with a little bit of anger thrown in
- all of which were understandable.

"It's more than just my parents Edwin, you should know that. The team a-and
the student body would go ballistic if their star came out as a big
homo. It's hard living up to that kind of expectation," he said after a
brief moment of reflection.

"Oh, right. Adulation is such a horrible cross to bear," I said, perhaps a
little too mockingly. I could tell he was getting angry.

"Bite me," he retorted.

I thought I had seriously fucked things up. A part of me didn't mind
antagonizing him, but another part didn't want to piss off my only gay
friend. After a second, he smiled and began to laugh. I started laughing
too - but mostly from nervousness. I didn't understand why he wasn't
beating the shit out of me.

"You're not mad?" I asked.

"Not really. You keep me in my place. I like that," he said. "But it is
hard, just so you know."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend or anything."

"I know. Don't worry about it. But... now that we're talking, what keeps
you from coming out?" he asked.

"I don't know. Everything I guess."

"But you think it's easier for me because I'm a jock and popular?" he
asked.

"Well, and cuz you're white," I smiled at him.

"Whoa, whoa!" he laughed pretty heartily. "You're going to have to explain
that one to me." I looked at him, not knowing where this conversation was
going to go.

"Look, Dominic, you know how I can get. I tend to overanalyze everything -
especially stuff like this. It'll take way too much time to go through
this. So let's talk about something else."

"Please - I want to hear this. Just, uh, give me the short version," he
pleaded with a wink.

"I have this theory; I'm not saying it's the absolute truth or anything
like that. It's just something I've thought about," I said after realizing
he wasn't going to let me out of this conversation. "Identity is very
important in this country - or any country for that matter. I just think
that when a white person comes to the realization that they're gay, it's a
bit easier for them to accept it and come out. It's an identity
that's... counter-majoritarian, I guess."

"Hmm. I think it's pretty hard for anyone to come out," he said, egging me
on.

"Oh, there is no doubt about that; I'm not denying that at all. Coming out
and accepting being gay is hard for everybody. I applaud anyone who is able
to go through that process successfully - whether they're black, white,
brown, green or whatev er. All I'm saying is that it might be easier for
some than for others.

"Let's take our school, for example," I continued. "Don't you find it odd
that all of the kids who are out - and there's what, about 9 now - are
white. I find it at least very interesting considering the school is
divided 50/50 between whites and Latinos. For the most part, you guys are
the ones who'll grab onto a rainbow flag and wave it with all your
might. It becomes a rallying symbol for who you are and how you want to
live your life."

"And what's wrong with that?" Dominic interjected. He was getting into
this. I couldn't tell whether he disagreed with what I was saying or
not. But his allowing me to say my piece just showed his willingness to at
least respect my right to have a voice.

"There's nothing wrong with that at all. I think it's great. I'm just
saying that queers of color already have an identity of their own; an
identity that almost always is instilled in them from birth. Race and
ethnicity are still huge barriers in this country. I don't care what
anybody says, it is HARDER to be colored in the U.S. than it is to be
white. No question in my mind about it. When someone says: 'you're so
thoughtful and articulate for a Hispanic,' I am reminded of how things
really are. So when I realized I was gay, I was absolutely torn. I already
have one strike against me for being brown, and now I'm expected to
consciously choose another strike that will make my life even harder?
Absolutely not. There can be no 'I'm here, I'm queer' mentality for
me. That's a novelty rarely available to people like me," I said.

Like I said, I couldn't tell how Dominic was taking my little tirade. To be
honest, I didn't care. He had opened this can of worms and I wasn't about
to sugarcoat things for him. It's not as if I suddenly thought of this out
of the blue. Years have gone into formulating all of my personal
philosophies of life. And I don't give a damn of he disagreed with me or
not: I adhere strongly to my beliefs until I am persuaded otherwise.

The blank stare told me he was processing what I had said. Truthfully, I
wasn't expecting to have a conversation on race relations or how that
affects being gay; I just wanted to do some math. But like I said, he's a
stubborn little shit.

I continued to sit there slightly winded from my little spiel. Dominic sat
there giving me one of his patented penetrating stares. I began to fear
that I had deeply offended him or something like that (which was not my
intention). I got up from my chair and went to the kitchen to get us some
water. My mouth had gone dry from all that damn talking. I came back into
the dining room and saw that my guest had moved to one of the couches in
the adjoining living room. I guess no more studying today. I gave him one
of the glasses of water as I sat down next to him on the couch."

"I'm sorry Dominic," I said finally breaking the silence.

"For what?" he asked.

"I know I sound all 'holier than thou' when I argue," I began. "When I get
heated over certain issues, I tend to get... intense. It turns a lot of
people off." I looked down, not willing to make eye contact. I've always
been ashamed at how I get when I argue: I often replace my humility with
zeal in order to drill a point across.

"I'm not turned off Edwin," he said as he placed a couple of fingers under
my chin and raised my head so I was looking into his eyes. His fingers
caused me to jolt after six weeks of abstaining from physically touching
him. "Even if I don't agree with everything you said, I'm getting to know
you. What was that you said earlier: 'realizing more about yourself and
others through your feelings?' Well, I'm realizing more about you and me,
and I love that." His face inched closer to mine with his hand still under
my chin. He moved slowly, giving me sufficient time to stop him or turn
away.

But I didn't.

He placed both of his hands on the sides of my head and gently drew me into
him. We closed our eyes as our lips touched for only the third time. He
ended the kiss and we stared at each other.

"You're not going to hit me, are you?" he asked with a sexy smile on his
face.

"I-I don't think so," I answered sheepishly. Damnit, so much for that 'no
touching' rule.

He quickly readjusted his position so as to face me without having to turn
his head. Kneeling on the couch, he leaned forward to reestablish our
connection. As we kissed, I began to fall back, with Dominic following
me. Soon he was on top of me as my head rested against the armchair of the
sofa. Our lips soon parted as our tongues began to explore each other. He
was most definitely the one in control. Almost involuntarily, my right hand
went behind Dominic's head, pulling him nearer to me as his right hand
began caressing my chest and side. I could hear his labored breathing
between kisses as his hands continued to acquaint themselves to a new
terrain.

The feeling was indescribable. Rationality had flown out the window and was
replaced with brutal instinct. He slowly began grinding on top of me,
causing our rampant hard-ons to touch, albeit with thin layers of denim in
between. Still feeling the heat of what we were doing, I gently pushed him
off of me. My mind, again, was racing. Much to my sorrowful surprise, I
wanted to continue.

Realization.

He had finally done it. After all his persistent badgering these past six
weeks, he had snuck in under my defenses. His patience had guided him into
a realm I never expected him to ever come close it. But there he was,
making me FEEL for him. And I couldn't figure out when this had
happened. What was it in the past few weeks that had made me go from
punching him, to making out with him on this couch?

It's such a paradox: knowing I have feelings for someone that I don't
necessarily want to have feelings for. A dim voice in the back of my mind
was gently shouting for me to stop what I was doing; how can fooling around
with the soccer captain help in keeping my sexuality a secret?
Unfortunately, I share the same fault as everyone else on this damn planet:
I'm only human. I know I try to hide in the white tower of my mind -
finding solace in my books, my theories, and my conjectures; always trying
to live above the fray, so to speak. I had thought that my will would
always be strong enough to withstand the effects of any outside
stimuli. However, there was never any opportunity prior to this point to
test my will. And all it took was another kiss from Dominic to show that I
am not above the power and force of emotions and desires. Rational control
can only go so far. I didn't want to stop feeling like this - like I wasn't
totally alone...

'UNA VEZ, NADA MAS/EN MI HUERTO BRILLO LA ESPERANZA/LA ESPERANZA QUE
ALUMBRA EL CAMINO/DE MI SOLEDAD' [Only once/In the orchard of my life did
hope shine bright/The hope that lights the path of my loneliness].

So I smiled; reassuring Dominic that he had finally succeeded, at least in
part, in his quest. He smiled back as we were about to embrace again, but
the doorbell rang.

THE DOORBELL RANG!!! Fate you are one cruel and fickle whore.

The sound of the bell caused us both to jump up. For a second I feared that
whoever it was could have spied on us through the window, but was relieved
to see the blinds were shut. I quickly calmed down and fixed my hair. I
turned to Dominic and saw a look on his face I had never seen before: pure
content. I was grinning as wide as I've ever grinned when I opened the
door.

Gabriel stood on the stoop, eyes red from crying. I was stunned seeing him
like that. I was even more stunned when he immediately lunged at me and
hugged me tighter than he ever had.

He sobbed controllably on my shoulder as I held him tight.

TO BE CONTINUED...

AUTHORS NOTES:

I failed to mention before that this is a finite story: there will only be
4 or 5 more chapters before it all comes to a close. Part IV will probably
not be up for a week and a half. I'm going to Tahoe for my birthday and
probably won't have time to write for a while, so be patient.

If you like this story, please tell me! For those who have written me,
thank you so very much: your encouragement helps me continue writing. For
those who haven't written me, I hate you and you make me cry. I'm just
kidding! (No I'm not).

Take care everyone! edtimoria@hotmail.com