Andy Stevenson vs. The Lord of the Loins

by Kage Alan

  "Wow.” This was overwhelming. Nobody had ever been there for me before, at least not in the romantic sense. I kinda liked it. “To borrow a few of your words, I think I'm falling in love with you, too.” And I thought I meant it.

  "I want you to know that you don't have to face Tristan alone. We're a couple.” He stood and pulled me up. “You've got my strength, my trust, my love ... the Ginsu Knife in my room and Kendra's promise of fifteen bull-dykes sporting power tools."

  It was such a momentous moment ... a lovely moment...

  "What are you going to do about Kim and Ryan?"

  A completely spoiled moment.

  "Oh, don't you start.” I sat down on the bed. “They're too closely involved in this not to tell them, but then they'd know about us and that would betray the trust you put in me to keep this discreet."

  "Your middle name?"

  Was he being sarcastic?

  "Yes."

  No, he was being sweet.

  "Remind me to buy you a dictionary.” No, he was being sarcastic. “Do you trust them?"

  "Yes, I do, and you wouldn't have to worry about Kim ever coming after you with a pair of rusty scissors. That'll be me.” There was something nagging at me in the back of my mind. Why had Kim liked him in the first place?

  "Then maybe you should talk to them and only them.” Alan looked at me strangely. “For some reason, I feel I need to be overly specific when I tell you something important."

  "What was it you did for Kim that made her like you so much?” I eyed him curiously. “Did you hold a door open for her or tell her she smelled nice? She's stalked for less than that and you're gay, so I don't think you'd do what she was hoping people would think you did.” Or did he? “Did you?"

  "That's between Kim and I. Now...” He ran his fingers through my hair and tried to smooth out the mess my hat had made. “I have to get to my next class so I'm not totally delinquent today. Are you going to be okay?"

  "I've got you. What more do I need to be okay than that ... and maybe Tristan's testicles hanging over the mantel of my fireplace? If I had a fireplace."

  He chuckled and stood up to leave. I did feel the need to add something before he closed the door behind him, though.

  "By the way..."

  He stopped.

  "I don't accept for a moment that juvenile response about what you did for Kim being between the two of you. There are greater mysteries in life to ponder, and if this was a story I was writing, it would only be a minor plot point."

  "True,” Alan agreed, “but then, as the writer, you'd know the answer to the question. You don't have a clue, though, and quite honestly, that gives me some sadistic pleasure."

  "The honeymoon is over,” I announced. “At least you still think you're falling in love with me and I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing you say that. Do you think you could say it again?"

  "No. I told you once I think I love you. If anything changes, I'll let you know.” And with that, my boyfriend left me to go to class.

  Gosh, he said the sweetest things...

  * * * *

  I decided to wait until Saturday night before sitting Kim and Ryan down for “the talk.” Things between the three of us had remained cordial up to this point, but there was a lot of silence and that bothered me. It wasn't healthy. Or is it Twinkies that aren't healthy? Someone I passed in a club in California called me a Twinkie, and the way he said it just didn't sound good. Or was it a Twink, which must be short for Twinkie? People are just weird.

  Alan was right in that I couldn't do this on my own no matter how much I wanted to. What were friends for if they couldn't help you plot against your enemies? Besides, there was more than just my honor at stake here. If I couldn't stand up to one of my own, how could I expect to stand up to the rest of society when and if the time ever came?

  "What's going on?” Ryan asked me when he walked in. He saw Kim sitting by the stereo and groaned. “This better not be about a new Samantha Fox single.” And here came the question. “What is this shit you're listening to?"

  "It's called ‘The Promise,'” I told him.

  "Oh, yeah.” And here came the sarcasm. “It's by that group who's very near and dear to my heart. What's their name again? It's just on the outskirts of my memory ... much like their career is on the charts."

  "Honey.” Kim decided to put a quick end to anything else he had to say about the choice in music. “You're thinking of another group. This is When In Rome, not When You're A Gnome."

  "Let's not do the usual thing tonight, okay?” I wanted to stop them before things really turned ugly, though it was going to turn that way anyway. “Ryan, why don't you sit down?"

  He did—right next to Kim, which he knew would annoy her. It did. After offering them both something to drink—always the good host—I sat down on my bed and faced them.

  "I owe you both an apology. Something happened at the beginning of the semester that I've kept from the two of you, something I should have come clean about a whole lot sooner."

  "Andy,” Ryan interrupted, “you forget that I was there. Okay, so you slept with your cousin. It happens—in less progressive states like Indiana, I'm sure, but it happens.” He was going to get socked if he didn't knock it off. I knew this because I saw Kim's fists clench. “And if you're talking about Tristan, the ad in the paper was just his way of getting his fifteen minutes of fame at your expense. A lot of guys like you get called gay these days."

  "That may be ... What do you mean ‘guys like me?'” I stammered? “Wait ... I am gay."

  "No.” He laughed nervously. “You're not."

  "Yes, actually, I am,” I insisted.

  "You can't be,” he insisted right back.

  "Why?” I had the distinct impression I was experiencing reverse deja vu.

  "Because."

  "Oh, no. I'm not having this conversation again.” Now I knew exactly how Jordan felt that fateful day in California. “Okay, Ryan?” I got his attention. “You can sit there and deny it however you want, but the end result is still the same—I'm gay. It's not something I'm ashamed of, but it isn't something I'm exactly comfortable with, either."

  "You've seen me naked when we changed at the pool.” A look of horror came over his face.

  "So?” What did that have to do with anything?

  "I'd just gotten out of the water, and it was cold."

  "Ryan ... I don't care.” I tried to sound sincere. “You could have six inches and I wouldn't care because you're a friend of mine and friends don't have those thoughts towards other friends, especially when they're straight."

  "I ‘could have’ six inches? Excuse me?” Ryan steamed. “The average male is six inches, and you can't even give me the benefit of the doubt of an extra inch? What the hell is that all about?"

  "It was just an example.” I tried to calm him down. “My point is that it doesn't matter if you have six inches or two because we're friends and things like that—"

  "So now I have two?” He crossed his arms in indignation. “We've gone from six to two?"

  "Drop it.” I finished it right then.

  "Andy's right,” Kim agreed. “It ain't the size, it's—No...” She changed her mind and grinned. “It's the size."

  "Look, I invited you both over for a couple of reasons tonight, and this is so not one of them. First, I wanted to apologize, and I did that. Second, I wanted to tell you that I'm gay, so that's done. The last part of this is a bit more embarrassing.” I went and got myself a Pepsi out of the refrigerator. This could be a very long night. “None of us is completely blind, so I'm sure we've all noticed that things haven't been the same between us since this whole mess began. You've been wondering about me, and now you know that part, but you don't know everything."

  "Quit repeating yourself and just tell us.” Ryan was losing interest fast.

  "I'm not repeating myself.” I opened the can and sat back down. “Apologizing is just very important to me, and now that I've done that and the other
thing, it's easier to tell you the third thing that I—"

  "Honey?” Kim held her hand up to stop me. “You're repeating yourself. Now seriously, what could you have to say that's more painful than telling your best friends that you're gay?"

  "You haven't heard it yet."

  "Are we ever going to hear it?” Ryan growled.

  "Fine. The short version?” They nodded. “Here's half of it. Everyone remember Tristan?” Again, they nodded. “He's gay, and we had sex after Kim left his apartment."

  Kim's mouth dropped, and Ryan started laughing.

  "You got the guy Kim was going after?” Ryan was practically howling. “I never thought I'd live to see the day I'd hear this story."

  "I told him I didn't want a one-night stand and he led me to believe he didn't, either, but all he really wanted was a piece of ass. The problem is that he liked what he had and wants to have it again. Quite frankly...” I said this for Kim's sake. “...because I won't give up the booty, he's been making my life miserable ever since."

  "You won't give up the what again?” Ryan asked, finally calming down enough to speak. “I don't ... I mean ... how does ... where do you put..."

  "Don't even go there. It's still kind of new to me, too.” I told them what Tristan's poems were really about, the latest incident with him sitting behind Aydin and, of course, the ad in the paper. I also briefly told them about the trip to California, then finally brought everything around full circle to Tristan again. “He figures if he gets me to come out, I'll suddenly see the error of my ways and dive for his crotchrocket."

  "His what?” Ryan hadn't heard this term, either.

  "Sorry.” I shook my head. “That was Kimspeak for penis."

  Speaking of Kim, she hadn't said a peep. That meant she was either scheming or fantasizing, which could sometimes or frequently blur together.

  "Is he big?” She eyed me. Definitely fantasizing. “Like, longer than your forearm and thick as a beer can?"

  "I don't think I want to hear this.” Ryan looked ready to cover his ears.

  "I don't think I want to be asked this,” I concurred.

  "Well, honey.” Kim was all sweetness, and I knew she'd switched to scheming. “I just want to make sure that dicking over your best friend was worth it.” Yep, I was in for it. “Did your eyes roll up into the back of your head while he played with your nipples and pounded your..."

  "Excuse me?” There was something very wrong with this conversation, and she really needed to think about what she said before she said it. “Why am I the one taking it up the ass in your fantasy?"

  Her eyes narrowed to mere slits, and I decided right then and there that it was better not to know. Instead, I spilled.

  "He's a ninety-second wonder, minus the wonder."

  "La la la la la la...” Ryan looked as if he was ready to bolt from the room and run screaming into the night, except it was cold out.

  "Tristan is beautiful, and beautiful people can't possibly be bad in bed. It's like a law of nature or the Eleventh Commandment. How could he possibly be...?” She looked up and found Ryan and I glaring at her. “Sorry. The prick! I can't believe you've been putting up with all that and haven't said anything to us. Who does this mo-fo think he is, anyway? The Lord of the Loins?” That had a certain ring to it.

  "Personally,” Ryan interjected, “I think you're acting like a pussy.” I turned my glare towards him. “Don't look at me like that. This guy does all these things, and the only thing you do to stop him is insult him and use foul language? I don't get it."

  "I'm just trying to be an adult about this and..."

  "Pussy,” he taunted.

  "What's wrong with being mature about...?"

  "Puuuuuuuuussy."

  "Forget the troll. I'm your friend, honey. Meow meow meow.” Kim came over and put her arms around me, completely ignoring Ryan. “And in case you're wondering, this positive attitude is called denial. My black ass is gonna stay in denial just long enough to help you out, then you and I are gonna talk about how you never come between a fluffy woman and her bald-ass giggle sticks."

  "Again,” I explained, “she means penis."

  "Are the two of you speaking English?” Ryan was experiencing a grandiose amount of frustration. “Crotch-rockets ... giggle sticks ... Apparently I no longer speak the same language, and quite frankly, I don't even know how to act around you two."

  "The same way you always have.” I tried to put him at ease. “Nothing has really changed."

  "Yeah, it has.” Ryan looked back and forth from Kim to myself. “Between this and the phone calls I've been getting since that ad came out..."

  "What phone calls?” I asked.

  "At least fifteen guys have called my home asking me to do something called ‘phone’ or wondering if I'd like to get together and play with our Curious George Custard Cannons."

  "Ew.” It was all I could think to say.

  "Now, why didn't I think of that one?” Kim mused out loud.

  "I wonder how they got your number.” That should have been Kim's and my original response.

  "Tell me about it.” Ryan eyed me. “I thought it was some guy from the phone company until he described exactly where it was he wanted me to put the receiver. I don't think that's even legal in west Michigan.” He tried to relax. “My parents are giving me looks I've never seen before, and the whole thing is starting to freak me out."

  "Too much drama, honey.” There was a sparkle in Kim's eye. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was somehow aroused. She couldn't be, though, could she? Nobody got horny in the middle of so many personal crises, did they? “I don't think I want to be alone tonight. Maybe I'll give Alan a call."

  I knew it.

  "Incidentally.” I decided to follow her lead in changing the subject. “What was it Alan did for you that was so nice?"

  "Incidentally, that's none of your damn business!” Had the two of them worked this out just to frustrate me? “Maybe I'll just show up in a nice little number tonight and let him help me forget Tristan and the rest of my problems exist."

  "I don't think he'd appreciate you showing up like that,” I told her matter-of-factly. Actually, I don't think he'd appreciate me showing up like that.

  "Why? Girlfriend?” She scoffed at the idea. “He never mentioned one before, and even if he has one, he'll get over her soon enough once he sees me."

  "No, it's not that he has a girlfriend.” Telling her was going to be so much worse than I thought. “You're just not his type."

  "Do you and I need to step outside!” She started doing the head-wiggle thing. “I just got done telling you that you do not interfere with me and my inches of throbbing pink Jesus."

  "Oh, here we go again...” Ryan threw his hands up in defeat.

  "Kim, I've talked to him. He likes you just fine, but he's not interested in you romantically."

  "How do you know that?” she demanded. “Did he look at you and say, word for word, ‘Andy, I don't want to have sex with Kim. She's not my type.’ Did he? I didn't think so. How do I know? Because my name is Kim, that's how. So, how do you know?"

  "Because I've been spooning with him for a few weeks now."

  Ryan dropped his pencil and Kim froze.

  "Jesus Christ, Andy.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “Is there anybody you haven't slept with?"

  "I didn't sleep with him,” I clarified. “We spooned."

  "Motherfucker!” Kim lunged, and Ryan grabbed her as I jumped back. “I am flypaper for dickheads this semester, but I can at least rip yours off!"

  Ryan finally managed to push her back down in the chair, but that didn't stop her from looking at me with the intent to do bodily harm.

  "What did you do that for?” Ryan accused me.

  "What was I supposed to do? He came down to my room and..."

  "Not that!” He gestured towards Kim. “Why did you have to tell her the truth? We're not supposed to tell women the truth. The more pathetic we make ourselves look, the smarter they think t
hey are and that equals happiness."

  "I thought it would be easier if she heard it from me."

  "Well, guess what?” He had a point.

  "What the hell is it with me and always being attracted to men who turn out to be gay?” she snarled.

  "This isn't the first time?” I knew gay men had a name for women this phenomena happened to, but it escaped me.

  "God, no,” Kim answered, like I was crazy to think that for even a moment. “This shit has been happening to me for years. Can't these Hershey Highway riders just come out and tell me before I start thinking that there might be something there? Do they think I won't understand? Am I that big of a bitch that I would do something to ruin their lives just because they want to run off with some other guy and play hide the—"

  "Hello!” Ryan cut her off before she could complete that little statement.

  "Sweetie? Having any kind of sex phrased as ‘hide the...’ is enough to scare someone off.” It wasn't like that, though. “And just for the record, it can be very tender, sensual, hot..."

  "Yo!” Ryan piped up again. “I think Tristan kind of covered the whole what-gay-sex-is-like thing in class.” He looked at Kim and then back at me. “I'm speaking for myself on this one, but I don't need to know about anybody's sexual experiences, no matter what their preference. It's a private matter and should stay that way unless one is specifically asked."

  "I can respect that,” I told him, and he relaxed a bit. “I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I was never open-minded in thinking about what gay sex might be like and that led to a number of really embarrassing moments with Jordan.” And how. “It turned out okay once I loosened up, but I had to learn the hard way.” They both looked at me. “I mean, I wasn't loose and it wasn't hard. Well, okay, obviously something was hard, but the other stuff wasn't difficult ... once I relaxed. Nobody is ever naturally loose enough the first time.” I didn't think I was explaining this too well. “Lucky for me he was experienced...” That didn't sound too good. “...in that he was a good teacher."