by Andria Large
He gives me a “Get real,” look. “He told me about 'straight' sex. He doesn’t know anything about gay sex.”
“True." I chuckle. “So what do you want to know about sex?” I ask as nonchalantly as possible to help Spencer feel comfortable enough to ask what he really wants to ask.
“I get the whole penis goes in the hole thing, that’s not that difficult to comprehend,” he says, blushing to the tips of his ears. “But I don’t know anything other than that.”
I shift in my chair and slap my hands on my thighs. “Alright! First things first - condoms are your best friends; don’t ever go without one," I say, giving him a pointed look.
He nods his agreement.
“Does it feel a lot different?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah, it does,” I tell him, wanting to be as truthful as possible. “Your second best friend is lube. Lots of lube. If you are topping, you need to make sure to use a lot on him and on you. And prepping the other guy is also needed. You can’t just shove right in, you could really hurt someone. Use fingers, your mouth, whatever it takes to loosen the other guy up as much as possible.”
If it’s even possible, Spencer turns even redder.
“You okay? Want me to keep going?” I ask him.
“Yeah…yeah, it’s just embarrassing to hear it all, ya know?” He croaks.
“Yeah, but you need to know this stuff, it’s important. And really, you don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s just you and me here, and you know I’m not judging you.”
He pulls in a deep breath and blows it out. “Yeah, okay.”
“Ah, what else,” I murmur to myself as I try to think of anything else he should know. “Oh, um, some guys like to douche before getting it on, just so that they are nice and clean inside, because yeah, shit happens sometimes, literally.” I smirk when I see him cringe. “You’re going in an out hole, and if you don’t clean yourself out, there might be debris left in there.”
Spencer groans and drops his head into his hands. I chuckle. “Welcome to being gay, my friend.”
“This is freaking terrifying. Thank god I didn’t ask my dad about this!”
I give his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll be okay. Now, let me tell you about the prostate…”
+
EZRA
I look up from the book I’m reading in the living room when the front door opens and Spencer walks in. I frown at the distant look on his face.
“Hey, Spence. Therapy was over two hours ago, what took you so long?” I ask.
He blinks and looks over at me. His face flushes and he quickly glances away. “I…uh…I was talking to Ferris for a while.”
I close my book. “About what?” I ask curiously. I can’t imagine what they could have possibly been talking about for that long.
“Uh…just…stuff…” he stutters. “I’m going to my room,” he adds quickly and starts for the stairs.
“Hold it right there!” I call firmly, bringing Spencer to a sudden stop.
I get up, setting my book on the coffee table and walk over to my son, who is on the bottom step.
“Did something happen? Is one of the other kids giving you a hard time?” I ask. “I mean, you walk in with your face all flushed and you can barely look at me. It just sends up all kinds of red flags.”
Spencer shakes his head and closes his eyes. “No, no one is giving me trouble and nothing happened. I just needed to talk to Ferris about something.”
“And you can’t tell me what you talked about? Was it about mom?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Come on, Dad,” he groans.
“Just give me something. Put my mind at ease,” I coax.
He makes a pained noise before blurting out, “Sex. We talked about sex. There, you happy?”
I frown in confusion. “Why? I already had that conversation with you.”
“Oh my god, Dad. You told me about straight sex. I wanted to know about gay sex, so I asked the gay guy. Jesus,” he huffs and starts up the stairs.
I just stare after him, dumbfounded. I didn’t even consider the fact that my gay son needed to know about gay sex. Well, don’t I feel stupid. Of course, he would need to know more about it. Yeah, the logistics are about the same, but there’s so much other stuff that I have no idea about. Plus, he’s 14, and curious, and noticing other guys. My knowledge about it is limited because I've never actually had sex with a guy. I only got to do so much exploring when I was a teen before I shut that part of me away. So yeah…he was smart to go to someone who does.
I hear Spencer’s bedroom door shut and sigh. Dammit, I hate not being able to tell him that I understand more than he knows. I want to tell him that when I was his age, I wanted to know the same things, but I had no one to ask. I shoved all of those feelings away and tried to lock them up tight. I go back to the couch and take a seat. I’m thankful that Ferris has been so great to Spencer; it’s exactly what I was hoping for.
Later, on my way to bed, I stop at Spencer’s door and knock. I open it when I hear his faint, “Come in.”
He’s lying on his bed playing around on his phone. His dark hair is rumpled and he’s in pajama pants and a T-shirt.
“Hey, I just wanted to say goodnight.”
His gaze lifts from his phone screen to meet mine. “Night, Dad,” he says with a soft smile.
“Uh…did Ferris…did he tell you to be safe?” I ask, uncomfortably rubbing the back of my neck. The first talk we had about sex was awkward enough, so delving into the subject again is really hard, but I need to make sure that if he’s thinking about having sex, he needs to use protection.
Spencer nods. “Yes, Dad. He told me how important it is to use a condom.”
“Good, good,” I say quickly. “So, is there someone you’re planning on doing this with?”
He gives me a dry look. “Not yet. There is someone I like, but I don’t know if he’s gay or not. Can we not talk about this?”
“I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything, and if I don’t have the answers, I will find someone who does. I’m glad you went to Ferris and got the information you needed.”
He sends me a small smile. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Goodnight.”
“Night, Dad.”
I shut his door then meander down the hall to my own room. I get ready for bed then climb into my large king sized bed, lying down in the middle of it. Staring up at the ceiling fan spinning slowly, I think about the conversation I had with my father one night, which changed my whole life:
Seated on a bench in the mall, my father and I waited for my mom to come out of a store that we didn’t care to go into. At fifteen, I hated being there with my parents to begin with, let alone go into a chick store. I watched as people walked by. One guy in particular caught my attention. He was probably in his late teens-early twenties, and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. For the past few years, I’d found some guys more attractive than girls. I did like girls, but I’d liked guys, too.
I heard someone call out a name. The gorgeous guy stopped and turned around; he saw whoever called his name and smiled this huge, brilliant smile that took my breath away. I watched as he went running to the person who called his name, jumping into this other guys arms and kissing him on the lips. My heart stopped in my chest. I’d never seen anything so perfect in my life. In that moment, I knew that even though I might like girls, guys were who I was meant to be with. I tried a few things with my best friend, Dan, since we were both curious about it. We kissed and touched each other, and did some other things but never went all the way.
“Ugh, really? They have to do that shit in public?” My father’s voice said, breaking through my thoughts.
I wrenched my gaze away from the two guys kissing to look at my dad. His face was a mask of disgust and irritation.
“What?” I blurted.
He nodded in the direction of the two guys. “That. Do they have to do that in public?”
; “Kiss?” I asked.
“Yeah, and touch like that. It’s disgusting.”
My blood turned to ice. Oh god, my dad would hate me if he ever knew what Dan and I did and what I was thinking just moments earlier.
Right then I decided that who I wanted to be was not worth the risk of losing my father’s love. I shoved every thought about being with a guy deep down and locked it up tight. Or, at least, I thought I did at the time. It's been hard over the years to hide who I really am. It was especially hard to hide it from Justine. There were many times I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't find the courage to do it. Now, with Ferris, all of those desires are starting to creep back up. The lock isn’t holding as well as it used to; it’s rusted and brittle, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it together, or want to keep it together for that matter. I’m thirty-six years old with a kid of my own. I shouldn’t care what my father thinks anymore. I want to be happy again. And as much as I loved my wife, I always felt like something was missing for me, and now I know why. Now the question is, do I act, breaking that lock clean off, or do I keep this shit bottled up like I always have?
+
FERRIS
“So, uh, thanks for talking to Spencer…about…you know…” Ezra says from where he’s sitting at my kitchen table. I can’t help the small smile that forms on my lips at how uncomfortable he sounds. It’s been a week since we went out for dinner, so I invited him over my house to hang out and have a couple of beers. I also may have had some less than honorable intentions when I invited him over. Ezra is really sexy, and I want to ogle him some more.
I sneak a glance over my shoulder at him. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it. He had questions and I answered them.” I pull two beers out of the fridge then go to the table and hand one to Ezra.
“Thanks,” he murmurs.
I sit down across from him. The gray T-shirt he’s wearing accentuates those sexy broad shoulders of his and shows off his sculpted arms. I’m finding it extremely difficult to talk to the guy when I’m constantly eye-fucking him. I crack open my beer and take a long swig. He is so fucking attractive, and every time I’m around him, my cock decides it wants to come out and play. It’s not going to be good when he finally notices the huge boner I’m sporting whenever he’s around.
“I just…it’s just irritating that I can’t help him with everything that he’s going through. I can’t be the person he comes to with questions. That bothers me,” Ezra admits.
“I hear ya, but it can’t be helped. You’re doing a great job of being supportive, and that means a lot to Spencer, believe me.”
He nods and blows out a breath.
“How do you think your wife would have felt about Spencer being gay?”
“Mmm.” Unable to talk while drinking, Ezra holds up his index finger and shakes his head slightly. “She would have been completely fine with it,” he says after swallowing.
“That’s good.”
“You've been a huge help, too, Ferris. Spencer has really taken a liking to you, and I really appreciate you taking him under your wing.”
I smile and give him a gracious nod. "Thank you. Spencer is a great kid."
I catch Ezra’s gaze flick down to my mouth. I narrow my eyes at the other man. That’s not the first time I’ve seen him looking at my mouth. Maybe it’s a dentist thing? Because I can't think of any other reason a straight guy would be checking out my mouth. Unless...he's not as straight as I think?
“So, tell me, what does a dentist do for fun?” I ask with a smirk.
Ezra barks out a laugh and takes a sip of his beer. “Fun? I do not know this word you speak of.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Mmm, that’s right, you have a kid.”
He purses his lips and nods. “It’s all downhill after kids.”
“So you have no hobbies? Do you hang out with friends at all?”
“Friends are all married with kids, so whenever we get together, it’s usually a family event. They have kinda shied away from inviting us to stuff lately because of Justine, so I haven’t seen them in a while. And as for hobbies, I like to read, but that’s about it.”
“Maybe you should invite them over, let them know you’re ready to be included again.”
Ezra gives me a thoughtful look. “Yeah, maybe.”
“What kind of books do you read?”
“Mostly murder mystery.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.
“Yeah, that’s mostly what I read, too.”
Skeptical light blue eyes meet mine. “You don’t peg me as a big reader.”
“Well, it’s true. I read before bed almost every night.”
“What are you reading at the moment?” he asks me, a hint of challenge in the question.
I tell him the book that I’m reading and his eyes widen in surprise. “That’s a fantastic book,” he says.
“So far, yeah, it’s pretty damn good.” I chuckle.
We go on to talk about other books we’ve read, among other things, and have a few more beers before Ezra leaves. I watch him walk to his car; there is just something about him that draws me in. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not sure that I like it, especially since I'm not sure if the feelings are reciprocated.
+
It’s Saturday night and my best friend/co-worker, Krista, and I decide to go out for a little fun. The bars are hopping now that summer is in full swing, our favorite being Keenan’s. It usually has a pretty good band playing, and they have both an indoor bar and huge outdoor space with another bar.
Going out with Krista is always fun. For whatever reason, when we go out together, I'm the one constantly getting hit on. Mostly by girls. Young, newly turned twenty-one, drunk girls are the norm. I’ll flirt and dance with them, but if they try to get handsy or try to kiss me, I have to let them know that I’m not interested.
Krista has it easy if she's looking to hook up because she's freaking beautiful and any guy who turns her down is a moron. I, on the other hand, have a harder time finding an openly gay guy. Grindr has helped. I usually turn it on when I get to the bar and am able to find someone looking for a quick romp in the sheets. I even have a few “straight” guys come onto me every now and then. I don’t mind showing them a few things about what being gay has to offer. They are usually some of my best lays because they are so eager to get and give every amount of pleasure they can in that one moment because tomorrow they will be back in the closet.
Krista and I start at the bar inside where the DJ is playing pretty great music. We sit at a table where I order some wings and a beer. Krista orders a beer and seems to already be eyeing up the selection of hunks hanging out by the bar.
“So, how are things with Ezra?” Krista asks, sending me a sideways glance and a devilish smirk.
I hum. "I'm working on it. I'm not sure which way he's leaning toward at the moment, but I'm going to try pushing some buttons to see if one turns something on."
She chuckles. “Ha! Let me know how that goes. He really is a good looking dude.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed, believe me. Those eyes of his are incredible,” I reply.
She nods absentmindedly as she looks around the room. I shake my head. Krista is on a mission tonight.
“How long has it been since you got laid?” I ask.
Krista snorts and sends me another sideways glance. “Too long. It’s been almost a month.”
I wince. “Yikes.”
She nods fervently. “Yeah, I know.”
The waitress comes with our drinks and my wings. The first bite I take I hear a loud crunch and then searing pain shoots down to my jaw from one of my teeth. I yelp and spit the food in my mouth out into my hand. Krista watches me, looking completely grossed out.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She grunts. “Don’t you know it’s not sexy to spit your food out?”
I ignore her and look down into my hand to try and see what the hell I bit down on but don't see any gristle or anything. Then someth
ing white does catch my eye. I pick it out and look at it. Is that my tooth?! I use my tongue to feel around all of my teeth. There! One of my molars on the bottom is missing a huge chunk, and it’s really sharp.
“My tooth just broke!” I squawk in disbelief, holding up the piece in my fingers.
Krista’s brown eyes widen. “Holy shit!”
I take note of the ache that is starting to take over the right side of my face. Shit, I need to go home. There is no way I can hang here with a broken and painful tooth. I push out of my seat and pull my wallet out of my back pocket.
“I gotta go,” I say and toss a twenty on the table.
“Alright, call me tomorrow.” Krista nods.
“Okay,” I agree then leave the bar.
I walk home since it’s only a few blocks away. As I walk, the pain gets worse. By the time I walk in my front door, I’m holding my face and groaning. I rush to the bathroom to take some ibuprofen. I glance at the clock in the bathroom, 10:30 pm. Damn, no dentist is open this late. I’m just going to have to deal with it until morning.
The ibuprofen barely touches the pain. I try everything to distract myself from the incessant throbbing coming from my broken tooth; I watch TV, I play some video games, I go on Facebook, I clean my kitchen. Nothing is helping. Glancing at the clock again, I see that it’s now midnight. Fuck! This is going to be a long night.
I go to the freezer to grab an icepack. As I open the door, something on the fridge catches my eye. I take a better look and see Ezra’s business card. Holy shit! Ezra is a dentist! How did I not remember that?! I snatch the card off the fridge and look it over.
“Dr. Ezra Whitmore, DDS. There’s the address, the phone number…Aha! 24/7 emergency number! Oh thank the fucking Lord!” I cry to myself before cupping my face and groaning in agony.
I grab my cell phone and dial the emergency number that is different from Ezra’s cell number. It rings a few times before I hear the click of someone answering and a throat clearing.
“Dr. Whitmore, can I help you?” Ezra’s sleepy voice answers.
“Ezra, it’s Ferris, I have a problem,” I say. Dang, even I can hear the pain in my voice.