Just Making Out

by Mark Roeder

  Focus, Shawn. I yawned again. Focusing was easier said than done. There was no need to think about it too much, anyway. Blake and Marc were willing, and they were hot, so I was going to have sex with them whenever I had the chance. Why shouldn’t I, after all? I was single and free.

  I was going to play it safe from now on. I wasn’t going to let myself get caught up in the moment and throw caution to the wind. I seriously doubted I’d catch any diseases even if I did it bare with Blake and Marc all the time, but it was pretty damned stupid to take the chance. Bottoming and especially topping did feel better bare, but not that much better.

  I had to think of Tim, too. I had to be a good example. Not that I planned on him ever seeing me having sex, but how could I go on about safe sex if I was ignoring my own advice? I was smart enough to be aware of my own ignorance, too. Maybe doing it bare was riskier than I thought. Maybe there was something dangerous about it that no one knew about.

  I thought back to Marc and me in the car. We’d both swallowed. Wasn’t that kind of unsafe, too? I didn’t think it was nearly as unsafe as fucking bare, but maybe it was unsafe in ways no one knew about yet. Where did I draw the line? The only way to be perfectly safe was never to have sex. Like that was going happen! Besides, if I never had sex, I could still get hit by a truck or gunned down or something. Life wasn’t safe. I just had to limit my risks.

  I slowly drifted off to sleep. I began to dream of Marc and what we did in my Cutlass…

  ***

  I spotted Marc in the hallway of VHS almost the first thing the next day. He grinned at me and wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made me laugh. That wasn’t the last Marc sighting of the day, either. I saw him three more times before school let out. It seemed a bit odd that I spotted him so often. It wasn’t as if I’d never seen him before we’d hooked up, but I’d rarely noticed him in the halls. He was a very good-looking guy, so he should have caught my attention, but then there were a lot of attractive boys wandering the halls of my high school. I guess it’s just easier to spot someone once you’ve slept with him.

  The sight of Marc turned me on like mad, but then the sight of a lot of guys got me going. I was seventeen, after all. I thought about hooking up with Marc again—and as soon as possible—but another thought crept into my head, too. What would it be like to date Marc? I wasn’t enamored with him as I had been (and perhaps still was) with Tristan. I wasn’t in love with him. He was plenty sexy, however, and he possessed a goofy quality I liked. His goofy side hadn’t manifested itself during the three-way with Blake, nor during our mutual blowjobs in the car, but every time I saw him in the hallway he gave me a puckish grin, and his expression was goofy and subtly suggestive. I had a feeling Marc could be fun even when we weren’t naked.

  I began looking around for Marc during the break between the last two periods and again right after school but failed to spot him. It was Monday, one of the two days I didn’t work, and I was thinking about asking Marc out. I thought about it more on the drive home, and by the time I arrived I decided I was going to go for it. What did I have to lose? If he didn’t want to go out, maybe we could get together for another session in my Cutlass.

  As soon as I got home, I dialed Marc’s number.

  “Who are you calling?” Tim asked, as he poured himself a glass of milk.

  “Marc.”

  “Ohhhh, round two!”

  “Something like that,” I said.

  “My brother, the horn dog!”

  “Shut up, Tim.”

  “Hey.”

  “Marc? It’s Shawn.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I saw you at school today.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I could almost hear Marc smiling at my stupidity. It was time to be direct.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to catch a bite to eat sometime—this evening, if you’re not busy. I don’t work tonight.”

  “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  “Well, yeah, kind of…I just…I just thought it would be cool to get to know you.”

  “I think you know me pretty well already, at least parts of me.” Marc laughed.

  “Yeah, and I like those parts, but I thought it might be cool to just hang out…and if anything more happens… well, that’s good, too.”

  “Sounds cool. Where you want to go?”

  “Um, maybe for pizza? I kind of want to stay away from Ofarim’s. I’m in there enough.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine. Okay, pizza it is.”

  “I’ll pick you up. How’s six?”

  “Six is good.”

  Marc gave me his address, then we hung up.

  “So, big bro has a date tonight.”

  “Sort of. I don’t know if I’d call it a date. We’re just going out.”

  “So, you like this guy…Marc?”

  “Yeah. I don’t like like him exactly, but I like him. Damn, I wish I had gaydar. He’s been right under my nose all this time.”

  “So he goes to our school?”

  “Yes, eavesdropper.”

  “What’s he look like?”

  “He’s really good looking. He’s got longish blond hair, blue eyes, and this cool skater look.”

  “Wait, are you talking about Marc Peralta?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s who you were with last night? Damn, he’s hot, Shawn! I used to beat it thinking about getting it on with him!”

  “Too much information, Tim.”

  “No. Too much information would be telling you I used to beat off thinking about getting it on with you. I used to think about creeping over to your bed while you were sleeping and…”

  “Way too much information!”

  “Relax, I’ve got Dane now.”

  “Maybe I should start locking my bedroom door.”

  “This was before we moved into the loft and before I met Dane.”

  “Okay, but seriously, keep that shit to yourself. I really don’t want to know about it.”

  “Are you sure, Shawn? Even about my fantasy where…”

  “YES! Especially about any fantasy that involves me!”

  “Oh, but Shawn…”

  “Shut up, Tim!”

  Tim laughed. I couldn’t tell how much of what he’d been saying was true and how much of it was said just to freak me out. I was more than glad to get away from Tim for a while and get ready for my date.

  I stripped naked and headed for the shower. The hot steamy water was so relaxing. I loved the sensation of hot water pounding down upon my naked body. It was like my own private rain shower, only nice and warm instead of cold. I loved getting all soapy and wet. I loved the scent of my shampoo and hair conditioner—currently strawberry for the shampoo and lavender and lilac for the conditioner. I loved changing things around, too. This might seem weird, but I have half a dozen different kinds of shampoo, and I change from one to another the first of every month. That way, I take greater notice of the color and the scent. Do hetero guys think so much about shampoo? I had no idea, but I kind of doubted it. If not, it was their loss.

  Showering always made me horny, too. Maybe it was because of all the times I’d showered with hot, naked guys after football practice, or maybe it was because I just tended to think sexual thoughts when I was naked and wet. I guess it didn’t matter. I was alone, so I enjoyed the feeling in a way I couldn’t in the showers at school. Popping a boner there definitely wasn’t cool. I’d always carefully avoided it. I’d watch it this fall more than ever. For the first time, my teammates would know for sure I was gay. I hoped they were okay with it. The way they treated Brendan gave me hope. Of course, I wasn’t the god on the football field that he was. Guys like Brendan can get away with a lot. Still, my teammates had been generally accepting. I wasn’t going to worry about it. I’d handle the situation, whatever it might be. I just hoped I could play football this fall.

  I was going to miss Brendan in the showers. What a body! He was taken, of course, but there was no harm in looking. There were s
ome hot guys on the team, but Brendan…wow…he was something else. Casper was one lucky boy.

  My thoughts went to Marc. I’d never showered with him, but I had seen him naked. I’d explored his body with my hands, lips, and tongue. I fantasized about him being right there in the shower with me, all soapy and wet, his blond hair plastered to the sides of his face, his smooth skin rubbing against my own. I was so worked up I could hardly endure it. I closed my eyes, continued my fantasy, and…

  After relieving the tension, I finished my shower, dried off, and walked to my room, naked. Tim passed me in the hallway.

  “Nice outfit. I’m sure Marc will love it.”

  I just rolled my eyes and continued on. I had better things to do than spar with Tim—namely, pick out something to wear.

  I wasn’t about to stand in front of the closet agonizing the way I had when I was going over to ask Tristan out for Valentine’s Day. I grabbed the first pair of boxers I spotted when I opened the drawer and slipped them on. Next, I pulled on the jeans I’d worn to school. I opened my closet and stood there no more than thirty seconds before I selected a purple t-shirt with a stylized eagle on it. I checked myself out in the mirror to examine the effect. Not bad. I lifted my shirt and sprayed on a little cologne. I was ready.

  It was a bit early, so I sat down and did some homework. It was as good a way as any to pass the time, and the more I finished before going out with Marc the less there would be to do later.

  Before I knew it, 5:45 rolled around. I grabbed my keys and my leather jacket, bid Tim goodbye, and headed for the car. I’d never been to Marc’s house before, but from the address I knew about where it was located. It was a short-enough drive. I arrived just a bit early. I pulled up in front of a small, white Victorian home decorated with gingerbread trim along the eaves and porch. I wondered for a few moments if I should go knock on the door, but came walking up the drive at the side of the house, pulling on a red hooded sweatshirt. Damn, that boy looked sexy in anything!

  “Yo!” Marc said as he opened the door and plopped down in the passenger seat.

  “Hey. So…pizza?”

  “Sounds good.”

  I didn’t say a lot as we drove back to Main Street. Parrot’s Pizza was located across the street from Café Moffatt. If Tim happened to look out the window of our loft, he’d be able to see Marc and me getting out of the car and entering the pizza parlor.

  “You go for pizza a lot?” Marc asked. “You sure live close enough.”

  “Not so much. I have to support Tim and myself, so there’s not a lot of extra money.”

  “Yeah, that would suck, man, but it would also be cool to have your own place! I How did you manage that?”

  “That’s kind of a long story, but I’ll tell you sometime.”

  “I think I know part of the story. I heard about you kicking your old man’s ass.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s definitely part of the story.”

  “I’d never have the nerve.”

  “You might if your dad was beating on your little brother the way my dad was beating Tim.”

  “He was beating him?”

  “Yeah, I walked in on it, and the rest just sort of happened. I didn’t really think about what I was doing. I was just trying to save Tim. We moved out right then and there.”

  “You ever talk to your dad?”

  “Not much. We actually get along better now, but I don’t really want to have much to do with him. It’s weird, but he respects me more since I stood up to him. It’s almost like he’s proud I was able to kick his butt.”

  “Wow. I sort of have my own place, but not really. I live in the barn loft behind my parent’s house.”

  “You live in a barn loft?”

  “Yeah, but it’s fixed up like an apartment. It’s not like I’m living with livestock.” Marc laughed. “Mom and dad keep close tabs on when I come and go and they can see when I bring everyone home, so it’s not much better than living in the same house with them.”

  “Ever take Blake to your place?”

  “Yeah, but mom interrupted.”

  “Shit.”

  “She didn’t catch us doing it, but it was close. It’s too dangerous to have sex at my place.”

  We walked into Parrot’s and were shown to a booth.

  “I like this place,” Marc said. “You’d never think parrots and pizza would go together, but it fits.”

  “The owner’s last name is Parrot,” I said.

  The interior was done up in a parrot motif. There were a few parrot-themed items hung on the walls. It sounds kind of cheesy, but the effect was exotic and fun. The tables and booths were covered with green-and-white-checked tablecloths, and there were green candles burning on all the tables.

  “So, what should we order?” I asked as we sat down.

  “You cannot go wrong with pepperoni,” Marc said. “What about a pepperoni with extra cheese?”

  “Excellent.”

  When the waiter arrived, we placed our order.

  “Last night was hot,” Marc said.

  “Definitely.”

  “And the three-way with Blake, well, that goes without saying.”

  “He’s incredible, isn’t he?” I asked.

  “He’s kind of stuck on himself, and he has some issues, but he’s hot. He’d be hotter if he’d make out and if he was a little less concerned with his masculinity.”

  “Yeah, I love to make out.”

  “I noticed.”

  “It’s just too sexy. In some ways, making out is hotter than sex.”

  “In some ways,” Marc said.

  “I wish we could right now,” I said.

  Marc leaned over the table and kissed me on the lips. I looked around, but the few other customers in Parrot’s didn’t notice.

  “You seem uncomfortable,” Marc said.

  “I’m not used to kissing another guy in public.”

  “Well, I’m not into hiding what I am.”

  “I guess I’m not, either, not anymore. It’s kind of hard to break old habits.”

  “I understand. If I had a parent who would beat me for being gay, I wouldn’t be so open.”

  “Why aren’t you out at school?” I asked.

  “I’m neither out nor in. I’m just me. If I had a guy to kiss, I’d kiss him.”

  “So you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

  “I’ve had three. Two of them were summer flings when I was away at camp. I did have a boyfriend last year, but he was so far back in the closet I’m surprised he didn’t end up in Narnia. He would have completely freaked out if I’d kissed him in public.”

  “It’s hard to picture you with someone like that.”

  “Well, we didn’t work out in the end. We were just too different.”

  “So he went to VHS?”

  “Yes. Still does. I can’t tell you who he is, though.”

  “I understand.”

  “So…we’re kind of on a date. What are your intentions, Shawn, besides hot, sweaty sex, that is.”

  “I’m not exactly sure. I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t know what I want right now. I’ve also got a…well, my brother and my friends call it an obsession with a boy at school.”

  “Who?”

  “Tristan Cole—long black hair, brown eyes, glasses, really good-looking.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen him! He is sexy! Is he gay?”

  “Yeah, but he’s not all that interested in me.”

  “So, you’ve made your attraction to him obvious?”

  “Yeah, we’re kind of friends, and I told him how I felt about him. He gave me this let’s-be-friends-and-see-where-things-go line. I’m pissed off at him right now because he’s tight with Nate London.”

  “A major hottie.”

  “Yes. Nate’s way hotter than I am, and apparently Tristan is willing to be more than friends with Nate.”

  “So they’re dating? Fooling around?”

  “I don’t know, could be either. They’re
together a lot, and they seem too friendly, if you know what I mean.”

  “You’re jealous.”

  “Yes. I really like Tristan, but…he just doesn’t seem that interested in me. It’s frustrating. I thought he just didn’t want to get into anything serious, but now he’s with Nate and…well, it pisses me off!”

  “Very jealous,” Marc said.

  I looked at Marc. He wasn’t being a smartass. He was merely making an accurate observation.

  “I appreciate your honesty. I’ll be honest, too. I don’t want to seriously date someone who is hung up on another guy.”

  “Yeah, I want a boyfriend, but…”

  “But you want your boyfriend to be Tristan.”

  “Stupid, isn’t it?”

  “You can’t help but feel how you feel, Shawn. It’s like being attracted to guys; that’s just the way you are. Being attracted to Tristan is just the way you are, too. You have good taste, by the way.”

  “It’s weird. Tristan isn’t my type. He isn’t the type I fantasize about.”

  “Hmm, let me guess. Your type is the captain of the football team and other jocks.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m not really your type then, either. I guess you can call me a jock. I play soccer but I don’t spend much time in the gym. I’m more into skating than soccer, actually, although I do love to play.”

  “Hey, were you on the soccer team with Mark and Taylor?”

  “The boys who killed themselves? Nope. I haven’t lived in Verona that long. We moved here in January of ’81, so this last soccer season was my first here. We moved from Bloomington.”

  “That’s why I didn’t notice you. I went to some of the soccer games back when Taylor played.”

  “Yeah, I was playing for Bloomington South that season. I would have been kind of hard to notice from Verona.”

  “So, anyway, I don’t know what I want. I’m a confused mess.”