by Mark Roeder
I walked home from the drug store still feeling as if I was being watched. It was as if the plastic bag I carried had “CONDOMS” written on the side. My palms were still sweaty, and my heart raced as I climbed the stairs to the loft.
Tim was in his room lounging around when I entered. I was glad he was there so I could get this over with. A part of me had secretly hoped he’d be out and about, but it was better this way. I called him into the kitchen, and we sat at the table the Selbys had given me for my birthday.
“I want to talk to you about something,” I said.
“It was like that when I got here!”
“Funny.”
“So what do you want to talk to me about?”
“Sex.”
“Okay. What do you want to know?”
“Don’t ever try to become a professional comedian, Tim.”
“Okay. Okay. So what is this about? I thought we already had the you-can’t-have-sex-with-Dane talk.”
“This is related. I’m only a year older than you, so I know what you’re going through. I know all about being so horny you can’t stand it. I know about walking around with a hard-on half the time. I also know what I’d do if our situations were reversed.”
“Yeah? What would you do?”
“If I had a boyfriend like Dane and I wanted to have sex with him—and believe me I’d want to—I’d find a way to do it.”
“I think we already talked about this, too. Have you changed your mind? Are you going to let us keep the bedroom door closed?”
“No. I explained why I can’t do that. What I am saying is that I understand, and I know you’ll probably do it with Dane every chance you get.”
“You are pretty smart sometimes.”
“So…I bought you these.”
I took the box of condoms out of the bag and handed them to Tim.
“You’re sending me conflicting messages here. Is it okay for us to fuck—or not?”
“Not, but I know you’re most likely going to do it anyway. I wouldn’t be a very good brother if I didn’t do my best to keep you safe. If you guys screw, I want you to wear those.”
“Which one of us?” Tim said, grinning.
“If you’re trying to embarrass me, it’s not going to work. Whoever is on top should wear the condom. It doesn’t make much sense for the guy on the bottom to be wearing it. Or, didn’t you know that?”
“Ha, ha.”
“There are diseases you can get, Tim.”
“Yeah, I know. Dane doesn’t have any diseases, though, and I don’t. Why do we really need these?”
“Because when it comes to sex, you can’t be sure of anything. You don’t know for sure who Dane has been with. Personally, I trust Dane to tell the truth, but you never know. It’s to protect both of you. He has no way of knowing who you’ve been with, either.”
“I haven’t been with anyone except Dane.”
“Okay, but Dane has been with other guys. When you have sex with someone, it’s like having sex with everyone they had sex with, too.”
“So we’re talking incest here, huh?”
“No.”
“Well, you had sex with Dane, and I’ve had sex with him, and you just said…”
“I mean that if Dane picked up something from someone else, he could pass it on to you.”
“He wouldn’t do that!”
“He might not know he’s doing it. Here’s an example. Let’s say I have a venereal disease…”
“Gonorrhea!”
“Okay, let’s say I have gonorrhea and I have unprotected sex with Dane.”
“Have you had unprotected sex with Dane?”
I haven’t, but just remember that just because I say that doesn’t mean it’s true.”
So, you’re lying?”
“No, but I could be. When it comes to sex, you should trust no one.”
“Okay, I guess.”
“So, I have gonorrhea, and I pass it along to Dane. He doesn’t even know it. Maybe I don’t even know I’ve got it. Then, you guys have unprotected sex. You end up with gonorrhea, too. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.”
“How could you not know you have gonorrhea?”
“If the symptoms hadn’t shown yet.”
“Have you ever had gonorrhea?”
“No, and I hope I never do. It’s just an example.”
“Okay, I think I get what you’re saying.”
“That’s why I want you to use a condom if you fuck. Those condoms aren’t permission to have sex, but I want you to use them if you do. If you need more, I’ll buy them for you and won’t ask any questions.”
“This is still kind of a conflicting message you’re sending me.”
“I know, but I’m doing the best I can. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll tell you something to set your mind at ease. Dane and I have never fucked.”
“I’m glad.”
“But we will!”
I shook my head.
“Have you fucked?”
“That’s really none of your business.”
“Hey, you’re getting into my business. Fair is fair. So answer the question.”
“Yes, and before you ask, we used protection.”
“Who did you do it with?”
“A football player from Plymouth.”
“Really? Which one? Have we played against him?”
“Yes—I’m not telling you—and yes.”
“Ah, come on, tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Okay. Blake York.”
“Damn! He’s hot! He’s gay?”
“Yeah.”
“So…did you bottom or top?”
“I bottomed.”
“I always knew you were a bottom!”
Tim laughed so hard I thought he’d fall off his chair.
“Hey. I don’t know what I am, okay? That was the first time I’d ever done that.”
“Have you topped?”
“No, so I don’t know which I prefer.”
“Did you guys…”
“No more questions. I think I’ve told you more than enough. I’m really not all that comfortable discussing my sex life with you.”
“Okay. No more questions—for now.” Tim grinned evilly. Damn. He was a horny little bastard.
“So, are we done, then?”
“Yes, just remember what I told you. I’m just trying to look out for you.”
Tim got up walked around the table and pulled me to my feet. He hugged me.
“Thanks, Shawn.”
“No problem, little brother.”
I sat back down after Tim went to his room. Our conversation wasn’t half as bad as I’d anticipated even though I’d told him way more about my sex life than I had planned. I just hoped he listened to my advice. Too many guys our age made the mistake of thinking bad things couldn’t happen to them. Too many thought they were invulnerable, and it just wasn’t true.
***
“You are so pathetic. Quit checking the time. Just relax, your dream boy will be here soon,” Tim said.
“Shut up.”
Tim grinned.
“Damn, you’re like a lovesick girl.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Yeah, but you want to be more. Even if I didn’t already know, it’s so obvious.”
“It is?”
“If you could only see the way you gaze at him. You get this dreamy, longing look in your eyes. You practically drool, too.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do, and that’s not all! I’ve seen positive proof that you want him bad.”
“What proof?”
Tim didn’t say a word, but glanced meaningfully at my crotch. I fought to maintain control when Tristan was near, but my body didn’t always cooperate.
“When did you notice that?”
“Hmm, let’s see—when you got up to leave The Park’s Edge on Valentine’s Day, at your birthday party when you were talking to Tristan, at school when you were
flirting with him by his locker… I could go on.”
“What do you do, go around staring at my crotch all the time?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. Just admit it. You’ve got it bad for Tristan.”
“Yes. I do. Damn, do you think anyone else noticed?”
“That you’re infatuated with your dream boy? Everyone in our little circle of friends knows it.”
“No, I mean…”
Tim laughed. “Relax, it’s not that big of a deal. You’re seventeen. It’s expected in guys our age. Hell, I pop one just thinking about Dane. Ha! And you were giving me advice about sex!”
“It’s just embarrassing.”
“You are such a fag.”
“Shut up.”
Tim grinned.
“You’re evil. You know that, don’t you?” I asked.
“Of course. I take after you.”
There was a knock at the door. I pointed my finger at Tim.
“Behave yourself or else.”
Tim gave me an innocent ‘who me?’ look. I scowled at him and answered the door.
“Hey, come in,” I said.
I feared Tim would embarrass me, but apart from giving me some mischievous looks, he didn’t do anything I’d want to pound him for later. He took Tristan’s coat and draped it over the back of a chair.
“So what do you think?” I asked.
Tristan looked around the room.
“You definitely need some color. White walls, white table and chairs, white appliances in the kitchen, and a beige sofa and chair.”
“Yeah, it is kind of bland, isn’t it?” I asked.
“White is a great background color. You’ll be surprised at how much we’ll be able to do with only a few additions.”
“That’s good. I’ve scraped up $30 I can spend.”
“We’ll see what we can get at the resale shop today, and then we’ll go from there.”
Tristan continued to assess the decorating potential of our loft.
“That antique counter nicely divides the kitchen from the living area. That will allow us to use a couple of different color schemes. How about yellow for the kitchen? I’m thinking a pale yellow. It’s a sunny, cheerful color, and if we go with pale yellow, it won’t be too great of a contrast with all that white.”
“Works for me,” I said. “I know nothing about decorating.”
“I’m thinking something stronger for the living room. We’ll see what we can find. Anything will go with white, so it’s a matter of what’s available and what you like.”
“Sounds good. You ready?”
“Sure. I’m eager to get started. I can’t wait to see what we can do with this place.”
Tristan grinned, and my heart melted.
“Want to come with us, Tim?” I asked. I didn’t want him tagging along, but this was his home, too. He might want to be a part of things.
“No. This is obviously some kind of homo-bonding moment. Three’s a crowd.”
Tim meaningfully gazed at my crotch when Tristan wasn’t looking. I gave him a warning glance, which he answered with a mischievous smirk.
Tristan and I bundled up and walked down to my car. We could have easily walked to the resale shop, but I hoped we’d find enough stuff that we wouldn’t want to lug it back on foot. After a two-minute drive, we got out and entered the resale shop. I went there often to look for clothes. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d paid retail. Maybe part of that was some kind of homo-shopping gene, but mostly I just couldn’t afford new clothes.
The resale shop was located in a regular home that was given completely over to the shop. Most of the clothing was upstairs, but the downstairs was filled with all sorts of other stuff. Tristan and I browsed around the ‘living room’ of the shop.
“Hey, what about this rug?” Tristan asked. “It will add a lot of color.”
Tristan held up a large braided rug that was dark red and cream. It was about six feet long and four wide.
“That would look nice on the living-room floor.”
“Yes. It’s $5, too. What do you think?”
“I think let’s get it.”
“Red,” Tristan said. “Hmm.”
He walked back toward a closet that held linens and began searching through the stacks of cloth.
“Here we go!” he said, pulling out a red-and-green-plaid tablecloth. “What about this? It’s just $2, and it will match the rug. This will add a lot of color.”
“I want it,” I said.
Tristan handed it to me. He walked back into the kitchen area. Thanks to my birthday presents, Tim and I had enough dishes, glasses, pots, pans, and silverware. I browsed around with Tristan. I spotted a large, attractive vase and picked it up.
“Could we do something with this?” I asked. “It’s pale yellow. You said that color would be good for the kitchen.”
“Wow, nice! How much is that?”
“Um, $3.”
“Don’t put it down! That’s an art deco vase made in the 1920s. Not only is it perfect for your kitchen, it’s worth several times $3.”
“Yes! I have good taste!” I said.
Tristan grinned and pushed the hair back from his face. Oh, how I wanted to kiss him!
“Hey, here’s a coffee maker,” Tristan said. “Do you guys drink coffee?”
“I’m not much into it, but Tim is a coffee fiend. He’s been forced to drink instant, and it’s about to drive him insane.”
“It’s just $2.”
“We definitely need that, then. Tim has been bugging me to get one, and new ones are expensive. He already went out and bought coffee and filters with his own money just so he’d be ready when we got a machine.”
“He is a coffee fiend, then.”
We wandered around the resale shop some more. Tristan spotted a brass floor lamp for $4. I found a blue-and-white rag rug for $3. It wasn’t yellow, but Tristan thought it would look good on the kitchen floor. We looked around more but couldn’t find anything else of interest. Our purchases cost a total of $19, so I was well within my budget. We loaded the stuff in the car and drove back to the loft.
Once everything was hauled up to the apartment, Tristan and I set about decorating. Tim was out. He left a note saying he was going to the library. More likely he was meeting Dane somewhere the two of them could make out.
The braided rug looked great on the living-room floor. I set the brass floor lamp between the couch and chair while Tristan draped the red-and-green tablecloth over the kitchen table. I plugged in the coffee maker and then put the rag rug on the kitchen floor. Tristan looked around the kitchen a bit and then placed the vase on the counter that divided the kitchen from the living area.
“There,” Tristan said. “What do you think?”
I focused on the kitchen first. We only added a rug and a vase, but it really brightened the place up. I walked into the living room. The large rug and the tablecloth really made a difference.
“I would never have believed that so few things could make such a big change. Now the painting you gave me for my birthday has company. This place looks great. You should be a professional decorator.”
Tristan smiled.
“I think you’re overestimating my abilities.”
“No, I’m not. You’ve got a great eye for color. Who knows what I would have picked out?”
“Hey, you picked out the vase. That was the best find of the day.”
“I only picked it because it was yellow and you said yellow would look good in the kitchen.”
“I don’t know a lot about collectibles, but that vase is worth at least $50,” Tristan said.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, now I like it more.” I laughed. “Hey, would you like some coffee? Or, I have tea.”
“Tea, please.”
“I don’t have a tea kettle yet, but a pan works. I’ll put some water on to boil.”
I set about doing just that. I also got out a couple o
f mugs, tea bags, and the sugar bowl.
“You’d better write tea kettle down on your shopping list.”
“Yeah. I have a feeling that list is going to just keep getting longer. I was so happy with all the things for the loft I received on my birthday. Who would have thought I’d ever get excited over dishes and pots and pans? You don’t really think about things like spoons and glasses until you don’t have them. It was kind of funny in a way. We had a dishwasher, but almost no dishes.”
“I’ll probably experience that when I get out on my own,” Tristan said. “That won’t be until college for me.”
“Yeah. You have no reason to leave home. Your mom seems really nice.”
“She is. She needs me, too. Losing Dad was hard on her. It was hard on me, but I lost a father where she lost her soul mate.”
“I don’t think I can even imagine losing a soul mate,” I said. I carried the sugar bowl and a couple of spoons over to the table and set them down.
“I hope she will be okay when I leave for college,” Tristan said. “By then, she’ll have more friends, and hopefully time will have dulled the pain some. It was really rough at first. Mom couldn’t handle it. It’s odd, but in a way her inability to cope helped me. I had to be strong because Mom needed me so badly. I focused so much on her pain that I largely forgot my own. Suddenly, I was the one she depended on. It was as though I became the parent overnight. The worst was over after a couple of weeks, and things became more normal, but she still needed me. She still does.”
I poured hot water over the tea bags in the mugs and carried them to the table. Tristan and I sat down.
“It’s just plain tea I’m afraid. I don’t have anything fancy.”
“Plain tea is great.”
“I guess you kind of understand what I’m going through with Tim,” I said. “The circumstances are different, but I more or less became his parent overnight.”
“You have too much responsibility,” Tristan said as he stirred sugar into his tea.
“I do have a lot on my shoulders, but things are much better now than when we were home. I like working and earning my own money. I love living here. I feel safe here, and I know Tim is safe. That’s worth more than I can say. There are drawbacks. I don’t have much time for fun. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to play football this fall. I was really looking forward to football. I thought I might even have a chance at quarterback. Now…it probably isn’t going to happen.”