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Meeting 13 August 19

"Hi, I'm Lance. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Lance," the group replied.

"I can drive again. After my license was suspended following the wreck, I thought I'd feel trapped. I surprised myself that I got used to commuting on my bike. A friend would have to bail me out occasionally, but I was okay with everything. A few miles on the bike every day probably helped with the calories. I can't lose this dang last pound, but I'm almost there to 20."

I saw Cooper look me up and down. I wasn't sure if it was flattering or if he was judging me.

"Having a car does make things better. I can now actually pick up ... people, if I need."

I had intended to say "my boyfriend" but stopped. Why? Why didn't I say that? Surely, we thought of each other as boyfriends. Boyfriend ... it sounded so high school. Girlfriend transcends all ages, but boyfriend just sounds young. Or was I afraid people would tell us not to see each other?

"I'm just glad there is zero chance I will ever drink and drive. That makes me happier than having a car. Two months ago, that would never have been possible. I drank and drove quite a bit." I looked down at the floor. My voice lowered. "It's sad that a serious wreck has to be your wake-up call. But it was. Things are better. I'm better. Without drinking.

"Thank you."

The group clapped. I returned to my seat.

I wish Jakob would have been next to me. He had called last night letting me know they changed his shift. He would have to miss the meeting. We always do Wednesdays. Surely, he didn't change his schedule to avoid me. I didn't think I would miss him this much, but I did. Combine that with having to go out of town to an aunt's funeral this weekend and it would be the longest stretch we hadn't seen each other. Damn. At least Ophelia and Cooper were here tonight.

"Hi, I'm Cooper. I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Cooper," the group replied.

"And I'm gay. Many of you here know that. I see a few new faces. I was married for 13 years. My wife ... ex-wife ... and I have an 11-year-old son. He wasn't sure exactly why his parents divorced. We danced around it as best we could, but we made sure he knew we both loved him."

Ophelia and I nodded.

"I told him I was gay over the weekend. I wasn't sure how much an 11-year-old would understand. He surprised me. He knew a lot. I tried to convey my struggles to him, at a level he could understand. He listened. I asked if he had any questions. He said, `Dad, is it weird being gay?'"

 

"Being gay must be so weird," my brother Oliver said as we watched a television show with gay characters.

"Totally," I said.

He was 18; I was 11. Two gentlemen kissed.

"Gross. Fags," he said.

One of the gentlemen had his shirt unbuttoned enough to let his chest show. I was mesmerized by the hair on it. I liked looking at it. I didn't know why. I didn't question it. The thought of being gay never entered my mind. I just liked looking at it. I didn't really understand the details of being gay. I figured it was just kissing. I didn't want to kiss anyone. Yuck.

By the time I entered junior high, the thing I wanted most was for hair to grow on my chest and legs. I knew I liked looking at it. I wanted people to look at me that way too.

 

"'No, son. It isn't weird. For me, it's natural. It's my true self. I love someone I really care about,' I said. I'm not sure if he understood everything. The harder question was next. `Did you not love Mom?' I tried to convince him I did, in my own way, but over time came to realize my true feelings were for men. I told him that I was sad that I probably hurt his mom in the process. That was never my intention. It took me many years to figure it all out. I think he tried to understand, but that's ... a lot.

"At least it's out in the open now. I let my ex know when she picked him up that I had explained — at his level — who I was. She gave me a strange look, then rolled her eyes. I couldn't tell if she disapproved or was throwing me shade for being gay.

"After they left, I could exhale. That was a big hurdle to get past. I – I just want my son to be okay. And okay with me.

"Thank you."

The group clapped.

After the meeting, Ophelia apologized for not being able to do coffee. Cooper offered to join me.

He asked about Jakob. I told him his shift changed to where he had to work the evening hours.

As we settled in for a beverage — a mocha decaf for him, raspberry smoothie for me — he asked about the two of us.

"So, how serious is it between you two?" Cooper asked.

"We're taking it slow. It's been a few weeks, basically spending time after the meetings. Me not having a car for so long and Jakob being in the shelter were pretty big obstacles. It should get better. We did take things to a next level over the weekend."

"I assume that's good," Cooper said.

"If he says it's okay. He really suffered a lot of abuse in his past, Cooper. Mental, physical, sexual. It's not that I'm on eggshells or anything, but I don't want to push it. Jakob deserves a real relationship. If the romance has to slowly evolve, so be it. I like him a lot. I'm surprised how well we've hit it off, considering — duh! — we meet in AA. That sort of comes with its own baggage, doesn't it?"

"It puts you on an even playing field to a certain extent," Cooper replied. "You come from different worlds."

"Meaning money?"

"That's part of it. The fact that he was temporarily homeless — that's a big barrier for someone to overcome. It's big of you to be a pillar of strength for him."

"He's actually very strong. I think I'm more of a sanctuary of understanding — a safe space. And it's not temporary, he still doesn't have a home. Just a bed in the shelter. I'd love for him to get out of it but moving in with me isn't ... it's too soon. I have a roommate. We need to do it right, otherwise it's a lot of emotional damage if it doesn't work out. Several people keep pointing that out."

"I can relate. My coworker and I are ..."

"You never say his name," I said.

"Mitchell. I guess I've hid the gay thing for so long that I've kept that private."

"What's he like?"

"Oh, man! The first time I saw that reddish-brown chest hair ..."

 

When I saw the red chest hair on Oliver's roommate, my dick got stiff as a board. In the mornings, I had noticed it being hard lately. It seemed to be a little bigger too.

They were both college seniors and Oliver had brought him home for the weekend. Perish forbid Oliver actually be in the same bed as another guy, so he slept on the couch, giving Xavier his bedroom.

We all sat around the kitchen table. Mom had made scrambled eggs, bacon and some pancakes. It was a big breakfast. Xavier commented on how the bacon was perfectly crispy. Mom blushed at the simple compliment.

After breakfast, my parents went to their errands. My brother and Xavier spoke of plans. They were going to shower first. Oliver used the bathroom in his bedroom. He told me to get out of the way so Xavier could use mine. I was able to see Xavier's bright red chest hair as he exited the bedroom for breakfast, slipping a T-shirt on coming down the hall. I was mesmerized by it.

This time he came down the hall only wearing skimpy briefs. I could see bumps and bulge under the fabric. His chest looked like it was illuminated with lasers. I glanced at the hair going from his chest, narrowing down into his crotch. The top bit of his bush stuck out of the waistband. I stepped out of the way as he entered my bedroom.

"Thanks for letting me use your shower," Xavier politely said to me.

"S – s – sure."

I loved his name. It sounded so exotic. I loved his looks. His hair was wavy and thick but looked as soft as fine yarn. His chest was mystical. I stepped into the doorway to get a glance at his hind side. I was surprised that he didn't close the bathroom door. I guess he figured my parents were gone, it was just guys left. He didn't notice me watching from the side. He pulled down his briefs, and his cock was hanging from a bright red patch of hair. It was hypnotic. His dick slightly stuck out from his body before draping before him. My own penis tingled just looking at it. I could feel my dick move in my shorts. Xavier looked up and saw me watching him.

"Uh. There's a clean towel in the cabinet you can use," I said, innocently.

"Thanks, dude."

He opened the cabinet, and I could see his lower body with his upper half blocked by the cabinet door. I wanted to stare at it for hours.

My penis wasn't the same size as his. Was something wrong with mine? Had mine gotten too big?

My dick felt so hard; it had been doing that lately. I didn't know why. I stared for another moment. His dick, his bush, his chest ...

 

"His chest! Oh! I just love his hair," said Cooper. "But there's more to him than that, obviously. He's so kind. He's so tender. He's very affectionate. He has really helped me move into the ... `gay world,'" he said using his fingers to create air quotes.

"I'm sure you two make an exceptionally handsome couple," I said.

"You're sweet, Lance."

"Can I ask if he was your first?"

"First man I take it?"

I nodded.

"I would say so. I mean I fooled around with one friend in high school. Jeez. That was eons ago. I suppose a lot of boys do. I didn't do a thing in college. Mitch was the first person I would say I felt romance with. Certainly, the first guy I screwed. Oh, is that too much?"

"Oh, Cooper. If you only knew. I was the one that got up and shared about penis size. You may not have been there that night."

"Oh, I was. It was a bit of a buzz after the meeting."

"Lord. Sometimes I'm too blunt."

"Safe space and all that."

"I just need more tact. At least you can say what you need to get out."

"And you did. I have a feeling everyone was dying to see it after that."

I grabbed a napkin and put it over my face.

"Relax. Everyone has had that moment when they have had to lay themselves out bare in front of the group. Yours was more anatomical, but it is still hard to open yourself up to others. I guess that's a lot of the healing process."

"I just don't want people to think bad of me."

"No one does. You just became more interesting. Heaven knows I'm dying to see it," he said with a wink.

"It's just a dick. One is as good as the other."

"Spoken like someone who has never had to be shy about showing his in front of others."

"Does Mitchell like it?"

"He's a dream. Yes. We are good for each other and love each other's bodies."

"That's all that matters."

"Right. I do love him."

"Do you think you will take your son to meet him soon?"

"I'm debating. I so want him to know the true me, but I feel like I should take it slow. Plus, I can't imagine what my ex would say."

"Do what's best for him. Your ex can deal with her own issues on her own."

"Sadly, I caused those issues. Natalie is not a bad person; I just threw her life into a tailspin. Probably Corey's too. I'm scared for him to see us share a bed. Well, not see. Just know we are in the same bedroom. What would he think? What does that mean to an 11-year-old?"

 

I looked at the two men in bed. I wasn't sure what it meant. Everyone was laughing, but I didn't know exactly why it was funny.

Oliver had gone off to college and Mom and Dad were out for the night. They told me 13 was old enough to stay by myself for the evening as long as the door was locked and I didn't let anyone in. My parents said I wasn't old enough to watch this show. It came on late. They were out of the house at a party, so I turned it on. Some of the lines were funny, and I laughed. I liked sarcastic characters. When a woman walked into the room with the two men in bed, I wasn't exactly sure what the joke was supposed to be. The audience laughed.

I just loved one of them had chest hair, and I just stared at it. My penis got hard looking at it. The three characters talked for a long time as the two men tried to get the woman to leave the room. The audience seemed to think it was hysterical. I didn't pay attention to any of the lines. I just stared at that man. The other gentleman at one point put his hand on the hairy man's shoulder. And then they leaned together.

Were these gay men? I wasn't sure what all that meant and how you were supposed to know. Did they kiss or something?

 

"Explain things in terms he can process. If you can teach him love is love and to be understanding and accepting, that's all the details he needs to know. How does Mitch view the situation?"

"He's been so supportive. I mean, I did get divorced for him."

"But you didn't move in. You got your own place."

"I'm just now coming out. I didn't feel right about dragging him through a divorce, a son, an insecure gay newbie..."

"You seem fairly comfortable at the meetings," I said.

"Yeah. Surprisingly. I can say `I'm gay' to people out loud. It's a bit tough to people who have known me for a long time. I feel like, `Boo! I'm gay!'"

I chuckled.

"But that's because Mitch has helped me ease into it," Cooper continued. "I'd be terrified otherwise. I feel like I missed so much when I was young. It was a religious household, so Natalie and I were actually virgins when we married."

"Each day will get easier, I'm sure. It has for me." I inwardly laughed like I was some highly studied expert on the subject.

Cooper and I hugged as we headed toward our cars.

After we finished our final conversation, I wanted to see Jakob, so I drove to the QT where he worked. When I walked in, I took a couple of pictures of him on my phone.

"What are you doing here?"

"I missed you," I said.

He smiled at the response and looked around. No one was really close.

"I won't bother you at work, but it's killing me not to kiss you right now," I said.

"Me too, but there are security cameras all over in here, so thank you for the restraint."

I took a selfie of the two of us. We had a cheesy smile.

"Quick. Before we get busy, look at this!" he said.

Jakob scrolled through his phone, and then held up the screen.

"Mom was pleased to find another letter. It means a lot to her. She thinks of you so often. Your brother and I do too. I'd like to see you sometime. Teresa"

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed. "That's awesome."

"I know," he said with the biggest smile I had ever seen on him. "I owe it all to you, Lance. Without your encouragement, I never would have written those letters."

"I wish I could hug you behind that counter."

"Soon. And, hey, I'm so sorry about your aunt."

"Thanks. We weren't super close. I mean, she was nice, and I just saw her at my graduation party, but I'm not torn up about it or anything. I feel sorry for my mom. The funeral is Saturday, so I won't be at a meeting this weekend. Next, Wednesday?"

"For sure. Unless they mess with my schedule. I want to make sure I'm free for your birthday."

"Bye, baby," I said as I left the convenience store. "Call me when you get home?"

"It'll be late."

"That's okay."

It was good just to see him.

Once I got home, I poured myself a decaf iced tea. I piddled with some work-related papers for a few minutes. Evan had turned in early. Jakob wouldn't get off for another hour or two. I chose just to relax on the couch.

Ninety minutes later, my cell phone startled me awake. I stared at my beverage, the melted ice cubes now having diluted the remaining drink. "Hello," I dryly mumbled.

"I woke you up, didn't I?" Jakob said.

"No problem. I wanted you to call."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Is missing you reason enough?"

"You saw me three hours ago."

"I know." I wasn't sure what to say next. "I like our time together. When we can't be at the meetings, I feel like I've missed out on something. And then I'm gone this weekend. It sucks. And you work tomorrow. I do hope we can get together next week."

"Me too. We will."

"You're okay, aren't you? The other night didn't ..." I didn't know what word to choose. "... it didn't bother you, did it?"

"It made me think a lot. It made question what everyone warns us about."

"You don't want a drink, do you?"

"NO! No. I'm ... I'm doing okay in that regard. I'm just grilling myself to see if I'm strong enough for if ... when ... we don't see each other anymore."

"Hey. Please don't presume the worst for us. I'm just going to say it. I like us ... being us. I'm okay going slow. I understand we don't want either of us to stumble. I know I want to be strong for you." I paused. My voice lowered. "But ... I know I'm an idiot at times, and ... if you ever stopped wanting to see me, I would still be your friend. Your good friend."

"My best friend. Trent's yours. But you are mine. I like being an `us' too."

"I wish you were in my arms. In my bed."

"Hopefully next week. I'd like that again." He chuckled. "Want to know a secret?"

"Okay."

"You have made it hard to go to sleep at the shelter."

"Huh?" I said, clearly not understanding.

"I think about you at night. It's not easy to deal with a hard-on in a room with no privacy."

"Geez." I cringed thinking about that scenario.

"But I came last night. Thinking about you. I used a sock."

I laughed. "Brave."

"Good night, Lance. Thanks for asking me to call. I miss you too."

"Good night, Jakob."

I got up to go to the bedroom. After brushing my teeth, I stripped naked. I had an early morning. I didn't care, though. My thoughts of Jakob had me erect in no time. I viciously pounded my cock thinking about my boyfriend. I remembered how his body felt in the shower. It was late enough that I knew Evan couldn't hear my soft moans. I pictured Jakob and I fucking. Hopefully one day. The images brought an intense orgasm.

I came into a sock.

 

 

—

 

I became obsessed with an idea. It wasn't my place. Jakob probably would have been dead against it. But it consumed me all day.

I drove to the home of Jakob's parents when I got off work. I pulled into the driveway. I sat there for several minutes too scared to get out of the car. I finally got up the nerve to get out. As the cool of the evening had started and the worst of summer had passed, the front door was open with the screen door allowing in some fresh air. I walked up to the front door. I was about to knock when I saw a woman approaching the door.

"Can I help you?" she said.

"Are you Mrs. Morgan?"

"Yes."

"My name is Lance. I ... I'm probably sticking my neck out where it doesn't belong, but I just wanted you to know that Jakob misses you very much and still cares for you."

At hearing his name, she opened the door, came out to the porch and shut the front door behind her.

"Please go on. Please tell me my boy is safe."

"He is. He's strong. He's had several hard years, but he is loving his job, no longer drinks any alcohol and has made several friends in the past two months. He's strong."

"Good," she said softly. There was both a hopeful yet sad look on her face.

"But. There is still a hole in his heart that only you can fill. I know he thinks of you. It's a mixture of love, distance and pain, but he misses you. If I could ask one thing, I implore you to just give him a call."

"I'm not sure my husband would approve."

"Ma'am, again, it's none of my business, but ... don't you miss your son?"

"I do. Every day. When Jakob left, we were certain being separated from his family would make him want to change so that he could come back."

"Change how?"

"We can't allow homosexuality in the house. My husband is adamant about it."

"That's like asking him to change his height or the color of his skin. Would you all have been happier if he lied to you?"

"No."

"Good. You've done a good job of instilling in him that he tells the truth. Jakob is a fine man, and he has many wonderful qualities that are probably attributed to his upbringing. But whatever you think he can change ... that's just who is, ma'am. Your family pushed him out into a cold world with nowhere to go."

"We wanted what was best for him. We didn't want him to go through a life of sin and pain," she said, as if rehearsed.

"But you pushed him right into that very abuse," I said tenderly. "He's been through so much, but he is coming out strong now. I just wish you'd find it in your heart to give him a call. He's still your son. He's still your boy. How can you not want to see him?'

She teared up.

"I'm sorry. I'm not here to upset you. I just want you to know that you can make a difference. He's still your son."

"I'll try," she sniffed. "I'm not sure his father will agree."

"Do it on your own. He's a human being ... a kind human being ... that could truly benefit from hearing from his mother."

I walked down the two steps. "I'm sorry for bothering you. Thank you."

"Who were you again?"

"I'm his boyfriend."

 

—

 

I sat outside the shelter waiting for Jakob. I could see him turn the corner walking home from his shift at QT. He looked surprised to see me and then offered a big grin.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he walked up to me.

We hugged. I caught a slight scent of hot dogs and taquitos past their time on his shirt.

"I didn't want to leave without seeing you."

"You're too sweet. Thanks. But shouldn't you be on the road?"

"I will. Now that I've seen you, I just want a kiss before I go."

He smiled. "Here on the street?"

"I don't care. Do you give a fuck if anyone sees us?"

"No. They'd just be envious."

I kissed him. He put his arms around me and pulled me in for a tighter, longer kiss.

As we pulled apart, our eyes were locked. Our smiles were visible in the peripheral vision.

"Okay. Now I can go," I said, slowly moving to my car.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "I'll miss you." He gave me another quick kiss and then pushed me toward the car.

 

—

 

The drive to my parents was long enough for me to put a playlist on a flash drive. Before getting out on the open road, I also tried to lock in some local radio stations. I kept searching, finding a few different genres. When I scanned to one station, it was clearly "oldies." A song by Stephen Stills came on. It was called "Love the One You're With." I paid attention to the lyrics for a moment. "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with." I almost thought it was a representation of my life. I can't love Trent, so love Jakob. I hated the song. It struck too close to home. What a horrible look on life, I thought. It bothered me for several miles. I finally played my own songs.

Two hours later I pulled into my parents' driveway.

"How's Mom?" I asked Dad, entering the house.

"She's holding up. It was a shock at first, but with your aunt's health being what it was, her death didn't come as a huge surprise. Still, it's never easy."

Mom entered the room. I went to hug her.

"I am so sorry, Mom. I know Aunt Grace had not been well, but it is still a shame. She was always kind."

"Yes, she was," Mom said. "She loved you. She only had a few nieces and nephews. She enjoyed spending time with you."

"I'm glad I got to see her at graduation."

"Indeed." Mom hadn't seen me since then. "You look really good, dear. You've lost a few pounds since graduation."

"For sure. Twenty since the accident."

"Well, you look terrific. It seems more than just the weight."

"Thanks. It could be because I'm seeing someone too."

"So your father tells me. What's this boy like?"

"Well, this man — he is a few years older than me — is so kind. If someone has to be my first boyfriend, I'm glad I have one that has a big heart. I just find myself ... I don't know ... I can't wait to be with him next."

"My! That sounds like love."

"Mom! We've only seen each other a few weeks. Barely a month. Let's not rush it. In fact, the two of us are taking it slow. He's been mistreated by others in his past. I don't want to be one more."

"That shows you care."

"I really do."

"I never pictured you with another boy..."

"Man."

"... another man. But I hope you know that I'm fine with you being you. I'm always on your side. You will always be my son that I will always love."

"Thank you, Mom," I said kissing her on the cheek. I couldn't help but think of Jakob's situation.

"So when do I get to meet this man?"

"I hope soon. He works a lot — and sadly our schedules don't line up as well as we'd like. We get together when we can, but I have weekends off and he doesn't. I definitely want to bring him home on Thanksgiving."

"He won't be with his family?"

"No. Probably not."

We sat quietly for a moment. Again, I felt sad for him. Like a soldier feeling survivor's guilt when remembering fallen friends, I couldn't help feeling life was unfair. Why had I been given an accepting family and he had not. Nor Trent. Life was a fickle bitch at times.

"Do you think Oliver will be able to accept it?" I asked.

"Whether he does or doesn't is his issue to deal with," Dad said, inserting himself into the conversation. "But we shouldn't sell him short just yet."

"I dread telling him. Ever."

I felt okay — good, actually — that my parents knew I was gay. Having figured it all out and not hiding was really a good feeling. In college, it probably would have been a little harder, but Trent handled it. But would I ever be able to tell my brother?

 

* * * *

 

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