Philadelphia

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Philadelphia Page 10

by L B Winter


  And now? What felt right was that hefty weight, that pain that felt so much softer than it did last time, when I opened my legs and let Eric’s cock sink inside of me. I floated away in the deliciousness of it, letting him do what he wanted with me. He removed my hands from my cock and held them against the wall, fingers laced with his. He pummeled into me over and over, and even though it felt so good, I could sense that unless he let me touch myself, I wouldn’t come. But he licked my earlobe, said, “I gotcha,” and hammered me into the wall over and over again. When he got close, when he started moaning and popping in and out of me like a jackhammer, he released my hands and reached down to stroke my cock, a fast, hot rhythm that matched his hips. I cried out and came only seconds later, and my climax drew his out of him, and together, we shuttered and rocked against the dark corner in a hallway full of strangers. Strangers like us. Oh, my God.

  I curled my arms in front of my chest and tried not to hyperventilate. Oh, God. What did I just do?

  Eric pulled out of me and collapsed against the wall to my left, panting. He smiled at me, apparently oblivious to my panic, and wiped his arm over his forehead. “Damn,” he said with a smile and a glance down at me. “That was hot.”

  I tried to say something, but no words would come out, and I was shaking harder and harder.

  After another several long, relaxing breaths, Eric realized something was wrong with me. I wasn’t an idiot. I didn’t expect him to care. But he looked me over and suddenly his smile disappeared. “Fuck. Are you okay?” He crouched to meet my eyes and tugged my arms down from where I’d folded them. “You should have said something, I’d have stopped.”

  I shook my head and tried to get my stupid mouth to work. It was good sex, honestly—that was really fun, and I would have stopped him if I hadn’t wanted it. But now I had to reconcile what I just did with who I was, and that wasn’t so easy to do. Standing there in a dark hallway full of strangers, I became suddenly hyper aware of my partial nudity, how I was fully exposed for all to see. I tugged up my jeans and closed my eyes. I just needed a minute to breathe.

  Eric put his hands on my shoulders, and I opened my eyes to see him crouched and watching me. “You sure you’re okay?” he said. I frowned. When did I ever say I was okay? But then he pulled me into a hug, touching my hair with his open palm and saying, “Look, I thought we both wanted it. Or I’d have stopped.”

  Again, words failed me, so he released me from the embrace but still kept one arm around my shoulders as he walked me out to the bar. When we passed under a ceiling light, I could see his face better, and I saw that he was older than me by a long shot. Probably at least ten years older. He probably thought I was some stupid kid, and now he wished he’d never met me.

  “Here we are,” he said when we arrived at the bar, where Steven and Taylor were both looking at me in confusion. I was so embarrassed I was pretty sure I could die, slug them both, or run out of the club crying—or maybe all three—but then Eric kissed my cheek and walked away, like I wasn’t just the worst lay he’d ever had. I was pretty sure I might vomit.

  At once, Tay and Steven rushed over to me, and Steven said, “Fuck. Paul Michael Garrison. Tell me you didn’t just hook up with that man behind the bar.”

  I looked up at him, dumbstruck. Isn’t that what people did at gay bars?

  “No, it isn’t what people do at gay bars!” he cried, shocked. I hadn’t even realized I’d said it out loud. I must have been really out of it.

  “You are out of it,” Taylor confirmed. Oh fuck. What was happening? How did I keep saying things without meaning to? A short silence followed, and I realized I’d stopped my uncontrollable word vomit.

  Tentatively, I said, “Well, now you can’t say I’m only judging you, can you, Steven?” I tried to brush past him, knocking into his shoulder, but he wasn’t having it.

  “Okay, don’t fucking act like I made you do that, Paul. I just wanted you to turn down a guy that sexy, since you’re so holier-than-thou about being gay—”

  I groaned and rubbed my hands down my face. “What I said didn’t have anything to do with you, Steven!”

  “But you’re so repressed,” he continued angrily, “that you couldn’t even say no to the random stranger who wanted to fuck you in a back room!”

  “What the fuck are you so angry about?” I screamed at him, dizzy and cold, slamming my hand against the bar. “I proved you right, so. You should be happy! Congratulations, you told me so!”

  I noticed Taylor backing away carefully, but Steven pushed right up into my face. “Just tell me you made him wear a condom.”

  “What?”

  “I know you haven’t done this before, you idiot, but just please, God, say you didn’t let him fuck you raw.”

  I stared at him blankly for a few moments, but then I found my words again. “Yeah,” I said in a much calmer tone, “yeah, he wore one.”

  Steven seemed supremely relieved, but he grabbed me with one arm, pulling me closer to where he was sitting, and kissed the top of my head. “Trent’s gonna kill me,” he muttered.

  “Steven?” I tried to pull away from him, but then Taylor appeared on my other side.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I opened my mouth to tell them I was fine, but I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t sure what I was; I had just had sex with a stranger at the club. I couldn’t say no to him. I couldn’t do a damn thing. And it scared the hell out of me.

  “Okay, we’re leaving,” Taylor announced, and Steven followed without argument, pulling me up by the arm.

  I followed them into the cool night, and almost as soon as we reached the sidewalk, Taylor got in Steven’s face. “Okay, why the fuck did you want me to introduce him to that guy? Is this some stupid fight you guys are having?”

  Steven shook his head but said, “Look, I obviously didn’t think—”

  “Obviously,” Taylor agreed, grumbling.

  “Guys,” I interrupted, not wanting a fight, “I’m okay. It…it isn’t his fault, I knew what I was doing.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Taylor and Steven said almost in unison.

  I sighed heavily, feeling like even though this was definitely a problem, it was my problem, not theirs. I said as much, and the guys seemed to agree to at least temporarily stop harping on it. So we walked back to Steven’s place in a tense silence.

  When we got upstairs, Trent and Lynn still weren’t home. My embarrassment was like a slow burn. I felt it vaguely at first, but then it got stronger, and by the time we got upstairs, I couldn’t even look either of my best friends in the eye. It didn’t matter, of course. Steven, who knew more about my struggles with being gay than anybody, fell all over himself making sure I wasn’t traumatized. Tay was a quiet, frowning presence in the corner.

  When I finally succeeded in assuring Steven that I was okay, and that I was just a bit surprised with myself, he backed off and Tay set in on me. He mostly just wanted to make sure I was okay, and since he’s a pretty affirming person in general, it didn’t take long for him to get to the “how was it?” that I should have known was coming, and that set Steven off again, and nothing I said could get either of them to stop talking about my sex life like it was any of their business.

  By the time Trent and Lynn finally came in the door, exhausted and glittery from working at the shop all day, we were all worn out from arguing, and when we saw that Trent had bags of Chinese food in his hand, we practically mauled him.

  “Whoa, guys, back up,” Trent said in greeting as the three of us crowded around him at the door, all suddenly ravenously hungry. While Tay snatched the bags from Trent’s hand and Lynn laughed and removed her coat, I noticed Steven hanging back tentatively. Trent noticed too, and immediately walked up to him, taking his face in his hands.

  “I didn’t check my phone until I was done with the orders, baby. You mad at me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I brought your favorite.”

  “Hot fried bean curd?”
>
  “And veggie rolls.” Trent leaned in and whispered something in Steven’s ear, and Steven smiled and gave him a kiss. Purposefully avoiding looking at their display of affection, Tay shoved the bag of take-out into my hands.

  “Well, I’ll pass on that,” he said, and I set the bags on the table and reached for my phone.

  “Want pizza?” I suggested.

  “Sure. Lynn? Pizza?”

  “Yeah, I could eat,” she answered, smiling. “What are you boys doing here on a weeknight?” We normally only came over on weekends, since school kept us so busy, especially Tay.

  “We went clubbing,” Tay said, smiling.

  “Because I couldn’t go with you?” Trent asked Steven, who now seemed to have wholeheartedly forgiven him and was wrapped tightly in his arms.

  “Well, they offered,” Steven answered. “Although. Well, we may have bigger problems now.”

  “Oh fuck, don’t tell them,” I muttered under my breath, but Steven couldn’t keep anything from Trent.

  “Remember Eric? The guy who used to date Raymond, who we met last year at the Tracy Project benefit?”

  “Yeah,” Trent said, frowning a little at his boyfriend, who was still holding him close like he was afraid he’d run away.

  “Well…”

  “Stop saying ‘well,’” Trent said in a low voice.

  “I had Tay introduce him to Paul because I thought he’d have to turn him down, because you know, he’s the spectacular non-gay gay, and Eric was looking at Paul like he was a meal all night, and…”

  “And?” Trent prompted when Steven paused.

  “And I didn’t turn him down,” I finished with feigned disinterest. Somewhere along the way, I’d begun to feel this odd empowerment, like I was really a man now or something. It was strange, because I didn’t feel this way after Jamie. But tonight, I felt kind of good. I expected to feel guiltier, but I just…didn’t. After the initial shock faded, it was replaced by something else. Something kind of good.

  Trent pulled away from Steven, and both he and Lynn rushed toward me, concern written all over their faces, but I held up my phone and dialed the pizza place around the corner. “Sorry, guys, it’s ringing!”

  I turned my back on them and plugged my finger in my ear so that I couldn’t hear the whispered arguments happening over my shoulder while I ordered. Who would have thought my sex life, which was utterly non-existent until tonight, would suddenly become so fascinating to everybody?

  But all through the pizza, through Steven and Trent making everyone sick with their incessant nuzzling, and Tay making obnoxious passes at Lynn—his new favorite hobby—I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was really gay now. I had sex now. I was one of those guys who had sex, and while having sex in dark corners of a nightclub wasn’t necessarily an experience I wanted to replicate, the act itself had been kind of awesome. The longer I thought about it, the more I realized how enjoyable it was. Nothing like sex with Jamie. Eric really knew what he was doing. Sex with guys who knew what they were doing was fabulous. And I didn’t see how I could refuse to ever do it again, no matter what I’d promised my dad. What if I fell in love with somebody? What would I do then?

  CHAPTER 7

  My Friend Jamie

  __________

  I had coffee with Jason three more times before Fall break. We met Milton once, but he had to work most days when we were out of class, so usually it was just Jason and me. He invited me to come to his church with him. “All are welcome,” he’d said. So I’d given it a shot, and it was the weirdest experience of my life. There were gay couples there, and trans men and women, too. People were just worshiping, no matter who they were and who they loved. It was surreal. When he’d asked me if I’d like to come again, I said yes.

  And that was how I found out how Jamie was doing—not through Tay spilling the beans or Steven’s nosiness, or Jason’s gossip, or anything else—but through running into him on a Sunday morning in November. And I do mean literally running into him. I came around the corner with a fresh coffee and almost spilled it all over him. He was standing right there in the back of the sanctuary, wearing a white V-neck and faded blue jeans. Jamie was here.

  Jamie was at Jason’s church.

  What the fuck was happening?

  It was a jumble of mixed up, confusing emotions. His eyes filled with recognition right away.

  “Hey,” he said, in that hopeless awkwardness of a long-lost acquaintance. “Paul. Wow. Hi.”

  I felt like my ears were pounding with about a gallon of blood. “I didn’t know you go here,” I blurted out.

  “First time,” he said. “Jason Kwong invited me. Remember him? From, uh…from Freedom?”

  The gears in my head started turning. This was strange. Jason invited me, and he invited Jamie? Maybe he was just one of those dudes who likes to invite people to church.

  “He invited me, too,” I said. Be cool, damn it! “So, is Ellen here, too?” Yeah, that was okay. That sounded casually curious. Nice job, Paul.

  His eyes fell to the floor. “No. I’m not—We’re not,” he stopped abruptly when Jason and Milton walked up to us.

  “Hey, you’re both here!” Jason said, his face showing that he was totally unaware of the thick discomfort in the air.

  Milton wrapped me in a hug while Jason embraced Jamie, and then Milton and I sat down, and Jason and Jamie went to get coffee. Okay, so we were all sitting together. Perfect. I followed Milton to a row with four open chairs, hoping mine wouldn’t fall next to Jamie’s, and also hoping it would. I’d been so stunned to see him; I hadn’t even really gotten a good look at him. Was his hair different? Was he still distractingly sexy? What had he been about to say?

  In our seats, Milton satisfied my curiosity on at least one point. Milton’s the kind of guy who wears thick glasses and seems way more mature than he really is. Appearances can be deceiving; he’s a bigger gossip than Steve-o.

  “I don’t know if you heard,” he whispered loudly in my ear. “We invited Jamie because he just got involved in a huge scandal at his church. A lot of people from that church come to the bookstore, and Jason heard all about it! Apparently he was cheating on his wife with some guy he met using one of those hook-up apps! I know you guys met him at Freedom—apparently he wasn’t turned straight after all. I can’t believe anybody thinks that conversion therapy works. It’s just a bunch of mumbo jumbo, if you ask me. But anyway, his wife saw his profile and threw him out, and the church decided to let him go from his job, so now he’s unemployed and basically living out of his car. It was all anybody could talk about at the bookstore! But Jason felt bad, so he went and found him when he was cleaning out his cubby at the church and invited him to come to our church this Sunday.”

  My gut clenched and my head felt like it could split open from all the thoughts tumbling around in there, one on top of another. And the loudest one? He was homeless. Talk about my Achilles heel. “When did all that happen?”

  “Jason first heard about it when you guys threw your Halloween party. Sorry we couldn’t make it, by the way.”

  Steven and Trent had thrown a Halloween party the weekend before, and I’d invited the guys. No big deal that they couldn’t come, but definitely not what I wanted to talk about at that moment.

  “No problem. Milton, why did—” But my attempted interrogation was interrupted by the return of Jamie and Jason.

  Jason smiled and slid past me to sit beside Milton, and Jamie hesitated for a moment before taking the seat beside me. “Hey,” he said softly. Did he know we’d been talking about him? What was he thinking?

  I smiled and nodded, and the three seconds or so when I should have said “hey” back passed in silence.

  The worship team started to play, and the congregation began to sing. I glanced up at Jamie during the music and saw tears gathering in his eyes. Embarrassed, I looked away. Okay, so he was having a hard time. That’s much more important than whatever grudge I’d been holding against him.


  I nudged his arm, and he looked down at me. “You okay?” I whispered.

  He nodded and rubbed his eyes surreptitiously on his sleeve. “Yeah, thanks.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to think of something to say to make him feel better, but nothing was forthcoming. What do you say to somebody you know just lost everything, when he doesn’t know you know, and would probably rather just forget it altogether? It was too tricky for me to navigate. So I reached my arm up to pat his back, just to be friendly, and he jumped about a mile.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I opened my mouth to answer him, but again, was lost for words. Shaking my head, I stuttered, “Nothing.”

  He rubbed his shoulder and folded his arms in front of his chest, scowling and scooting as far away from me as he could in the tightly packed row. Sheesh. Way to make a guy feel disgusting.

  I glanced behind Jamie’s back at Jason, who was singing passionately with his eyes closed and arms raised. I sighed. That guy was the most oblivious person in the world.

  After the sermon, Jason, Milton, and I walked up for communion, while Jamie remained in his seat. But when we returned, he had gone.

  “Did Jamie leave?” Jason asked me, as though I would have some insight into the mind and activities of Jamie.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Looks that way. Jason, why did you invite him here?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it later,” he said, with that eager look he sometimes got about a piece of juicy gossip.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about him behind his back, Jason, I just—I was surprised to see him here, and I want to know—”

  “Oh, hey, Jamie!” Jason said, a little too loudly.

  Jamie had walked up behind us and was waiting to get to his seat. I looked over my shoulder at him and was surprised when he squeezed my shoulder and smiled. He must have surprised himself, too, because at once he drew his hand back, folded his arms again, and scooted to his seat without another word to me. We passed the rest of the service in silence.

 

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