Officers' Boy
By: Kenneth Kirk
(© 2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

kkirk@tickiestories.us

Chapter 5

Roger and I went to Pass-A-Grille Beach in South St. Pete on Monday.  His summer job at the power company wasn’t set to begin for a week and my shift didn’t start until 4 so we had the day to ourselves.  We met at 10:00 and drove the 45 minutes across Pinellas County to Pass-A-Grille, which was our favorite because it was a bit off the main path making it quieter and even keeping it looking a lot like it did in the 1930’s. 

After we swam for a while in the still-cold waters of the Gulf of Mexico (at about 75^°), we spread our towels on the sand and sprawled out to warm up and dry off.  Two hot Hispanic-looking guys in their mid-thirties lay about fifty yards up the beach, near the jetty.  I had noticed them noticing us as we passed by on our way into the water.  They were both wearing decent, but sexy, Speedos and each had a well-developed body. 

Once we were settled into our sunning routine, Roger whispered into my ear, “Do you think those two guys over there are together?”

“I’m guessing you don’t mean did they come to the beach in the same car.”

“Nah.  You know.  Are they a couple?”  He stared at them as they quietly lay in the sun.

“I don’t know.  Maybe.”  I wondered what Roger really thought about gay couples.  After a moment I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to find out how he would feel.  “Roger?”

“Uh-huh,” he said as if he was half asleep.

“What would you think if those two guys are together?”

Roger rolled over and looked at me, his blue eyes hidden by his squinting eyelids.  “I don’t know.”  He paused.  “Why would I care?  Unless they were hitting on me or doing the nasty right here on the beach.”

“Hmm,” I said as I tried to glean his whole attitude about homosexuality from this comment.

“You know?” he prompted me for a response.

“Yeah,” I nodded at him.  “Why do people get offended because a person is attracted to people like themselves?”

He laughed before launching into one of his favorite subjects.  “It’s because of the hold ancient religions have on so many people in the modern age.  Growing up in your family, you ought to know that!”

I loved Roger for many reasons, not the least because he often bashed Christianity for its judgmental and out-of-touch-with-reality beliefs.  I laughed, too.

Roger touched my forearm lightly.  “Your dad would probably march right up to them and tell them they’re going straight to hell unless they repent this very second and accept…”  Here he adopted a stereotypical Southern preacher voice.  “… JEEE-sus into their hearts!”

I laughed, but inside I thought Roger had it all figured out.

In silence, we lay inches apart for a few minutes, broiling in the Florida sunshine.  Suddenly Roger touched my arm again.  “Eric?”

“Yeah?” I said languidly.

“How does your dad justify all that hate Christians have for gay people?”  When I didn’t answer immediately, Roger continued, “I mean ‘God is love’ and all that.  Well, if God is love, doesn’t He love everybody?”

“I think He does,” I said.  “I don’t quite follow it, but Dad spouts all this gobble-di-gook about how gay people are horrible sinners because they turn their lives over to Satan in order to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.”

“Oooo,” Roger giggled, “the ‘pleasures of the flesh’ sounds pretty awesome to me!”

We laughed and high-fived on that one.

“So,” Roger smirked, “your dad thinks two guys or two gals can have better pleasures of the flesh than one guy and one gal?”

I laughed again.  “Roger, I love your logic!”

“Well, that’s the implication in the good pastor’s point of view, isn’t it?” he persisted.

I thought about it for a moment.  Roger was right!  “I guess so.”

“I’m just sayin’,” Roger said, “who would sell their soul to the Devil in order to get second-rate pleasures?”

I guffawed, which made him almost scream with laughter.  One of the guys near the jetty looked over at us, quizzically.  No doubt he had heard our laughter.  For a split second our eyes locked across the sunny morning.  And I knew.  And I knew that he knew, too.  What was up with that?  I couldn’t figure out how we had communicated, without words or even any movement, that we share a common, uh, orientation.  This was cool and a bit scary, too.

“You know my Aunt Wanda has a woman lover, Janie, right?”

“Yes.  You’ve mentioned that.”

“Well, I can’t imagine them participating in wild orgies to get a bunch of wanton pleasures of the flesh.  They’ve been together like 20 years or something, ever since college, and they don’t party, they’re quiet and, hell, they’re more conservative than Mom and Dad.  Janie’s a fucking librarian, for Christ’s sake!”

I laughed again.  Roger is on a roll today, I thought.

When I caught my breath, I touched his arm.  “Well, I said I can’t quite understand Dad’s logic.  He says gay people choose to be with other gay people because it’s easier than having a regular family.  But it doesn’t look easier to me.”

“Nah, it doesn’t.”  Roger was quiet for a minute.  “Why do you think some people choose to be gay, Eric?”

Oh, boy, I thought, here we go!  “Let me think a minute on that one.” 

Something in me was saying, “Tell him!”  For the thousandth time I tried to imagine how he would respond.  Would the news mess up our great friendship?  Would he hate me?  Would he beat me up?  Would he tell everyone else?  Would it get back to Dad?

“Tell him!” my soul cried out.  “Get it over with.  Get it off your chest.  If he’s really the friend you think he is, he’ll love you for being honest.”  Not now, not yet, I thought.

“Uhm,” I said.  “I don’t think anyone would choose to be gay.  It sets you up for all kinds of problems, so why would anyone choose that?”

“Good point,” he nodded, “but a lot of people think it’s a choice.  Are they wrong?”

“Absolutely!”

“Really?  How can you be so sure, Eric?”

Now’s my opening, I thought.  I took a really deep breath as I silently prayed, “Please, God, let him understand.”

“I’m so sure because I know I didn’t choose it.”

“Well, yeah,” he chuckled, clearly not catching my meaning.  “I didn’t choose it either.”

I looked deeply into his now-alert blue eyes.  “I didn’t choose it, Roger,” I said slowly, emphasizing the one key word.

For a moment he looked uncomprehending.  Then, his eyes widened and his mouth slowly sagged open.  He stared into my eyes with a whole set of emotions ranging from recognition to understanding to (thank You God!) acceptance and love.

Tears formed in my eyes.  “I didn’t choose to be gay,” I said very softly, “but I am.”  A couple of tears rolled down my cheek and dripped onto the towel.

“Oh, buddy!”  Roger looked as if he couldn’t breathe.  “Oh, my God!”  Gently he put his palm against my cheek.  “I had no idea.”  He brushed at my tears.  “You hid it so well.”

I nodded but couldn’t speak.

“You’ve kept this all inside?”

I nodded.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, Eric!”  Tears were filling his eyes, too.  “You must’ve felt so alone.”

I nodded and more tears slid down my face.

“There was nobody to talk to?”

“Well,” I managed to croak, “Sylvia at Starbuck’s.”

“Thank God!” he said.  “I’m so sorry you couldn’t tell me, buddy.”

“I, uh, couldn’t risk our friendship and it maybe getting back to Dad.”

“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed.  After a moment’s pause, he giggled.  “Your dad would have a coronary!”

In spite of crying, I giggled and nodded.

“Fuck, dude, I want to be there when he finds out.  Son of a bitch!”  His grin collapsed and he looked like he was about to cry.  “Damn!  I can’t imagine how you have endured this without even talking about it.”

“Sylvia has been a big help.”

“Yes.  Well, in the future, don’t you dare not come to me when you need to talk.”

I did cry then.  I sobbed in gratitude for this amazing, loving friend.  Roger leaned into me and pulled me closer to him.  He pulled my head down to his shoulder and rubbed his hand gently on my back.  “I love you, man!”  I sobbed some more.  After a moment, he giggled, “I don’t want to suck your wienie, but I do love you.”

His joke finally broke my crying jag.  I laughed out loud.  “I want you to be my best friend, Roger, not my lover.”

He pushed me away.  “Well, that’s a relief!”  He took his hands away.  “Really, dude, thank you so much for telling me.”

We lay back down for a while.

“So, dude,” Roger poked me in the side.

“What?”

“Do you want to get it on with those guys over there?”

I laughed.  “Well, they are kinda cute.”

“But they’re so … old!”

“Yeah.”  I felt some weird excitement well up inside me.  I knew what else I wanted to share with my best friend.  “Uhm, Roger?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m seeing someone.”

He raised up and smiled at me.  “Would you tell me about him over lunch at the Hurricane?”

“I’d love to.”

We got up, dusted off, and picked up our stuff. Roger looked hot in his purple Speedo.  We strolled past the sunbathing couple and spoke as they watched us go by.  We stopped at his car to slip on shorts and tees.  It was only a 2-minute walk to the Hurricane Restaurant, where we had fish sandwiches while I told Roger all about Racer.  He was surprisingly accepting, almost excited at learning these very personal details about me.

“Picture?” Roger asked.

I debated with myself whether to show him the sexy photos.  The idea felt like it was too personal to share them.

“Come on,” Roger grinned.  “It’s okay if they’re sexy.  Just click past the wienie shots, okay?”

I laughed.  “I don’t have any of those,”

“Yet,” he giggled.

I picked up my phone and clicked through to the first photo.  I looked at the pix.  It was one of the butt shots.  I smiled and I swear my cock throbbed.  I held the phone out to him and he took it.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed with a look of unbelief on his face.  “Damn, he’s fucking built!”  He scrolled through all the photos.  When he got to the shots taken from the front, he grinned big.  “This fucker is like a Men’s Fitness model.  Look at that chest!”  Roger paused and looked intently at one of the photos.  “And, shit, what a piece of meat he’s carrying in those shorts!”  He leaned in close to me and whispered, “Can you handle so much dick?”

I blushed.  “I, uh, don’t know,” I stammered.

“Well,” Roger noted, “I guess it’ll be fun for you to find out.”

I blushed more.  “Hell, yes!”

As he scrolled through the final couple of photos, he shook his head almost in disbelief.  “Fuck, he ought to be a porn star.”

I had been nervously giggling throughout his commentary on Rafe’s looks but laughed out loud at this last suggestion.  I wiggled my eyebrows at Roger.  “Maybe he is,” I observed.

“How old is he?”

“24, 25 tops.”

As Roger handed the phone back to me, he got serious.  “Be careful, man.  You don’t need to fall in love with a heart-breaker like this.”

“He’s really sweet,” I protested.

“Maybe so, but he’s too good-looking.  Hell, I think even I’d do him.”

I laughed.

“Seriously,” Roger said, “just be aware he can have any man or woman he wants.  I wouldn’t expect anything long term with him.”

I smiled at him.  “You are reminding me why you’re my best friend, Roger.  Thank you for being concerned about me.  I’ll try to keep control of my heart.”

“Please, please, do!”

When he dropped me off at home a couple of hours later, Roger hugged me, which is not unheard of, but is unusual, told me he loves me, and wished me good luck on my “hot date.”

To be continued...

Posted: 04/29/2022