I labeled my life an official mess. The man I considered my best friend told me that his life was heading in a direction that could not include me. I wanted him to be happy, but I worried deep down that having kids would not be enough. Maybe it would be. For me, the urge to reproduce had never found a foothold. I loved Colt, but I wasn’t in love with Colt. He needed to find his own happiness.
As I searched for my happiness, I’d found a man I wanted to date during Spring Break, a man who wanted no physical contact, but he wanted to see me again. I was totally confused by that. Did I need to continue to investigate that relationship, or was this a red flag. I’d told myself he was just being cautious.
Maybe I needed to be more cautious. I’d slept, sort of, with a guy who claimed to be a virgin whom my roommate was telling me was a slut. Aaron couldn’t be a slut; he was too nice. He’d stood up for me. He had to work up the courage to tell me that he was attracted to me. Unless that was just his M.O. How many other guys had he been with who thought he was an innocent just trying to figure things out?
Fuck. What else could go out of whack? My head was throbbing.
My cell phone rang. I looked at the screen; it was my father. I got a knot in my gut. I took a deep breath and answered, trying to steady myself to hear the bad news. Who had died now?
He started talking without saying ‘hello’ back to me. “Your sister tells me that you have decided to date men.” His voice was terse; I could tell that he was doing his best not to yell at me. “Your brother-in-law may not care, but he’s the only one in the family who doesn’t have a problem with it.”
“It’s true,” I admitted. “Dad, I knew that I was gay before high school graduation, but I was worried that you wouldn’t take it well.”
“Well, if you didn’t want me to find out, you should not have told your sister. But the cat’s out of the bag now, and I think it best if you stay at school until you graduate. I will still pay for it. I’m not a prick afterall. That’s what we saved up for, but I’m not comfortable with your coming home during the summer. Or any other time for that matter.” The phone clicked and went silent.
I felt lightheaded and nauseated.
“What’s happened?” asked Albert.
I looked up at him. “I need to sign up for summer classes.”
“That’s not for another week.” He stepped closer to me. “What really happened?”
“My dad doesn’t want me to come home for summer vacation; he wants me to take classes. So, I’ll take classes.” I forced a smile.
A loud silence filled the room.
Albert put a hand on my shoulder. “It’ll work out, Jason,” he said.
I appreciated the calmness of his voice and the sincerity behind it.
“I’ve got assignments to finish. You gonna be here for lunch?”
“Yeah, but I’m heading out this afternoon.”
“Do you want to head down about eleven-thirty?” I asked.
He nodded. “Sure. Sounds good.”
The rest of the day was miserable. I had to force myself to concentrate. I completed everything on my to-do list, went to lunch with Albert, played with my food, was miserable company. Once back to the room, I decided to take a nap before delving into the next project. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, to feel my legs and arms get heavy. When I finally nodded off, my sleep did not last long. I awoke with a jerk. I had dreamed that garden hoses were being forced down my throat and up my ass, and I was being filled with ice cold water.
What does Freud say about that?
I struggled through the next week. I texted Alex and told him that I needed to talk to him. He replied that word got back to his supervisor that he had been kissing men while on duty during Spring Break.
I texted back that we had only done that once and he was off-duty when we did it.
Alex: That doesn’t matter. I’ve been given a warning even though I said it wasn’t true.
Me: That’s not fair. It’s an injustice.
Alex: Doesn’t matter. It’s what they believe. You can’t come down. I was trying to think of a way to tell you. They’ll fire me if you do.
Me: Can you come up here?
Alex: They’ll be watching me.
Me: OK. I hope it works out for you.
I threw the phone on Albert’s bed, and I began to cry again. I felt so miserable inside. And alone. I tried to distract myself with my calculus homework. From time to time, a tear fell onto the paper. What surprised me at one point is that I was feeling angry. The anger was directed at Alex. I slammed my fist down on the desk and growled, “Fuck him. That stupid asshole doesn’t realize that there was a chance for us to be happy. Fuck him for not giving us that chance.”
My eyes were blurry as I glanced over at my phone. I thought about writing that to him, and I even went so far as to pick up my phone. That’s when I saw the little plaque that Albert’s girlfriend gave him. Today is what you make it. The ‘you’ was in italics.
Was it as simple as that?
I was in charge of my life–not the other people and certainly not my dick. Had I been letting my dick make my decisions? It seemed to tell me which people I should have sex with. From this moment on, I would decide with my brain. I looked out the window and saw a slight reflection of myself. OK, I’d take some input from my dick, but only input. I pointed at the reflection. This is a new me. Clean slate.
I’d made the decision to be happy, and for the most part, I did feel better. I did some major thinking about my life. I was still young and learning. I mean, that’s why I was at the university. I was hurt by things that had happened, but I needed to focus on what I had learned from the experience. The hurt was normal, and I had to be aware that I’d probably be hurt again–and probably a lot worse. I was able to put almost everything into perspective.
Aaron was the exception. There was a question where he was concerned. There was a question of whether I’d been fooled or even betrayed. It was as if he were the proverbial wound that is open and festering. I needed to clean that wound and close it, and I decided that I would confront him on Friday evening. Albert had let me know that he wasn’t going out with the group because they were having a get together in their dorm. I determined that would be a perfect time.
Albert directed me to the third floor of Quad C. I was dressed in a pale plaid shirt, fresh khaki shorts, and a relaxed smile. There was no reason to be angry; I just wanted him to tell me why. I was sure the answer would stitch that wound shut, and I would be free to move forward.
“Is that room three-twelve?” I asked one of the men standing in a line outside and open door that I had calculated to be Aaron’s room.
“Sure is, the line starts back there,” he laughed.
Well, I thought, Albert did say they were having some sort of party. A hand slapped my shoulder. It was Mike’s.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Jason. Thanks for losing me twenty bucks.”
“Sorry,” I said, not knowing what he was talking about.
“I thought for sure you’d never kiss him. You’re such a tight-ass, you know. But then, you’re here for the pump and dump, right?” He laughed, and several of the guys in the line laughed as well. “I guess I was wrong about you.”
Mike had both hands on my shoulders as he turned me toward the door and pushed me into the room. The men in the line stood on one side of the room. On the other side, Aaron and another man whom I didn’t know were naked. They were on their backs; their legs spread so that their assholes were exposed to the room. Cum dripped from Aaron’s hole. A guy with his pants at his knees began to fuck Aaron’s partner. Another guy got on his knees, and the man getting fucked began to suck on the second guy’s dick.
My attention went back to Aaron. I could not believe what I was seeing. A man from the line pulled his erection from his pants and stepped forward. He was a skinny guy with a dick bigger than mine, and he shoved his cock into Aaron’s hole. Aaron’s body stiffened and his head rolled back. The guy grabbed Aaron’s legs at the ankles and held them out while he began to pound Aaron’s ass.
“Fuckin’ A,” said someone in the line.
“Hey, Mike, when you gonna take your turn?” asked someone else.
Mike grabbed his crotch. “As soon as you open them up so they can take this monster without breaking in two.” Mike laughed. Several guys guffawed. Mike grabbed my shoulders again and whispered into my ear. “Look at that dick go in and out. Is it making you hard? We don’t have to stay here. I bet you want me to fuck you just like that.”
“You’d lose that bet. I turned and left the room. My head was spinning. Aaron told me those things to win a bet. He was, at that very moment, getting fucked by a row of guys whom he that he couldn’t possibly have had a relationship with. I started for the stairs.
Ahead of me, I saw a man wearing a shirt identical to mine come up the stairs. He stopped in front of me. “I love your shirt.” He smiled.
I attempted a smile.
“You OK?”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“What are they lined up for?” he asked as he scanned the line of men in the hall waiting for their turn.
“They are waiting for their turn at fucking some guys in that room.”
He looked at me with a serious face. “Did you?”
“No,” I answered quickly. “But I used to know one of the guys who’s on his back in there.” I shook my head. “I cannot believe he’d do that.”
“It’s a cum dump, isn’t it?” He scanned the row again.
“Yeah.”
“I can imagine putting my dick where twenty other guys have just unloaded.” His face made a grimace.
I could like this guy, I thought. “Are you going to stay and watch, or do you want to grab dinner, Mr. Man with the cool shirt?”
“I’m grabbing dinner with my new shirt buddy,” he smiled.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Hunter Jackson was an English major with a minor in Linguistics. He was six feet tall, so we almost saw eye to eye. He told me that politically he was slightly conservative and a strict constructionist. He did not believe in the death penalty except for pedophiles; he had a personal history which gave him this view. He thought that criminal penalties were often too soft and more people should be given life without the possibility of parole. He liked steak; ribeye was his favorite. He loved seafood and most fish, couldn’t stand rainbow trout, and wouldn’t eat anything raw. When he told his parents at the age of twelve that he was gay, his father said, “Tell me something I don’t know.” His parents also took him to the doctor to start him on PrEP. Just in case. They also gave him a full talk on safe sex and bought him a box of condoms so he would have no excuses.
It was a lot of information to learn during one meal, but he didn’t hog the conversation. With every tidbit of knowledge I found out about him, he gave me the opportunity to disclose the same information about myself. After exchanging phone numbers, he told me that he had a buddy, a friend in high school with whom he had regular sex.
“A friend with benefits situation,” I said.
“That’s right,” he replied. “I’m looking for the same thing again. I’m not ready for a boyfriend relationship, but I want someone I can talk to, someone I can trust.”
“Let’s hang out some more and see what happens.”
“I’d like that,” he said. “Hey, how about a selfie? You and me on the day we met with our matching shirts.”
I stood next to him and he snapped a couple of pics. “Send the best one to me.”
“Hmm,” he said while looking at them. “I’m so handsome in these that you look kind of average.”
“That’s impossible. I always look good even when I don’t,” I told him.
He laughed. “I sent them both to you. Are you doing anything at lunch time tomorrow?”
“Meeting you for lunch at eleven-thirty in the Tower Dining Hall,” I told him. “Don’t be late.”
“Don’t forget to let me know what shirt you’ll be wearing.”
I waved at him and walked back to my room.
I felt better than I had in a long time. I had been able to put things behind me and look forward. With a month left in the semester, I had made a friend. While we had talked about the possibility of having a sexual relationship, that wasn’t the goal. We were going to work on being friends. I had a long talk with myself while in the shower. Hunter was nice looking; ok, maybe more than that. He was attractive. He wasn’t gorgeous or a model, but I did enjoy watching him at dinner while he told me about himself. I could easily see myself kissing him, snuggling with him on a cold night while I read an assignment or even snuggling with him with no assignment.
I dried off and got dressed for a little bit of studying while I was already under the covers. Before I did that, I checked my closet and then grabbed my phone. “Got a red t-shirt?” was all I texted.
I got under the covers with a book on financing and began to read. The phone dinged about five minutes later. “Of course. Every well-dressed man has one. Am I wearing it tomorrow?”
I wrote back, “It is if you want to be seen with me.” I included a smiling emoji.
“See you at eleven-thirty. Sleep well.”
“You too.” I didn’t get much reading done before I fell asleep. It was the best sleep I’d had in a long time.
