Coming Out 5
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people is coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between adult male teenagers. If the law in your jurisdiction prohibits you from reading such descriptions, please exit the story immediately. --Brew Maxwell
Coming Out
Chapter 5
The next morning we slept until after nine. Ordinarily I got up at seven on school days, even if I had stayed up as late as we had the night before, and Jason got up that early, as well. It was a real luxury for us to sleep in.
We got up and got dressed. We were both pretty hungry, so we decided to hit one of the breakfast buffets that were all over the beach. It was 10:30 by the time we finished eating and drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes.
"What do you want to do today," I asked.
"I don't know. What do you want to do?"
"Do you want to go to the beach?"
"Sure."
We lived in a beach town in north Florida. It was relatively small, about 150,000 permanent residents, but the beach drew a huge crowd of tourists. Spring Break was legendary there, and the summer tourist season, which began on Memorial Day weekend and ended with the Labor Day weekend, was awesome. Jason and I had both worked beach jobs during the summer for the last three years, and we knew our way around.
We loaded up a cooler with soft drinks, and we stopped at a supermarket for chips, peanuts, and two huge sandwiches. That was the way you "did" the beach. Once we were there, we set up our little camp.
There was nobody on the section of beach we went to. In a month or so, the high- rise condos would be full of snowbirds, northerners who fancied a winter in the sun, but that early they were vacant. We were stealing a holiday, and we loved the idea.
"You feel like being outrageous," he asked.
"Of course," I said.
"Let's get naked. Nobody will see us today."
"I don't care if they do," I said. "We ain't got nothing to be ashamed of." We both laughed as we pulled off our swimming suits.
We had a portable stereo, so we listened to a couple of CD's. Then we tuned into a radio station. We both still had great tans from the summer, but we both had very sharp tan lines, below which was sunburn territory. We had brought sunscreen, so we applied it to ourselves. We had both brought copies of Wuthering Heights, the book we had to read for our Advanced Placement English class, and we settled in with them. After about an hour of reading, we were both bored out of our minds. We decided to swim.
Swimming in the Gulf is always great, but there were three or four "seasons" of seaweed that started in June and ran through August, just when the tourists were here. By October, though, the seaweed was all gone, and the water was a gorgeous aquamarine color and totally clear. The temperature might have been three or four degrees cooler than it had been in the summer, but it wasn't cold enough to put us off.
There was a light chop in the water, but even that was fun to play in. We felt a slight undertow, but it was nothing to be concerned about.
"I guess they don't have the flags out this time of year," Jason said.
"No, but it would be a blue flag day, for sure," I said.
"Why do you reckon they use a blue flag instead of a green one," he asked.
"I don't know," I replied. In fact, the flag warning system was a mystery to me, as well. A blue flag meant it was safe to swim. A yellow flag meant you were to exercise caution, and a red flag meant "stay out of the water." Green would definitely have made more sense than blue.
We played around in the surf like two hyperactive puppies. He would chase me. I'd dodge him, and he would go flying face-first into the water. We ran into the waves, holding our "family jewels" so the force of the water wouldn't hurt us. We played like that for thirty minutes or more. I had had enough, though, and wanted to get a drink of fresh water to wash the salt taste out of my mouth. I turned to walk back up to our stuff on the beach, and Jason charged me. He hit me from behind and knocked me down onto the beach. Before I could get away from him, he had flipped me over onto my back. He plastered himself to me, chest to chest, crotch to crotch.
"I got you now, Babe," he said. "What are you going to do about it?"
Before I could answer, he kissed me.
"You're going to get us arrested, dude," I said.
"By who? That pelican out there," he asked. "If he tries to arrest us, I'll wring his ugly neck."
It was a commonly held belief among the locals of that town that pelicans were beautiful at a distance, especially when they flew in formation, but up close they were as ugly as homemade sin. They truly were ugly, too, and pretty nasty looking.
I chuckled when he said that.
"I don't know who. Some cop, I guess," I said.
"Are you scared? Is that why you're hard?"
"Very funny," I said. "You know why I'm hard. You made me hard."
While we were talking, Jason had started moving up and down against me. He was dry humping me, right there on the beach, in front of God, the pelicans, and everybody. I knew we were as safe as public sex ever is, and I got into it with him. I thrust back at him, and we got a nice rhythm going.
"I love you," he said.
"Not as much as I love you," I said. I leaned up and kissed him. We held the kiss as we continued humping. I was on fire with lust and love, and I knew Jason was in the same condition. We humped against one another for a long time. Eventually, we both stiffened as our orgasms overtook us, and we came against one another with loud gasps.
"Phew," he said when it was all over. "That was fun."
We cleaned up in the Gulf and ran back to our encampment. We both dropped into the sitting position on our beach towel, but we didn't bother to dry off or put on any clothes. We smoked cigarettes and just looked at one another.
"What made you do that," I asked.
"What do you think, man? Seeing you, that's what. Playing with you."
"Do I really turn you on that much," I asked.
"Well, goddamn! Yes. You haven't figured that out yet? Everything about you turns me on, man. I'm in love with you."
A smile spread itself across my face. I knew I turned him on, and I knew he was in love with me. Hell, he did for me everything I did for him. I just liked hearing him say it.
We were only in the house a few minutes after our day at the beach when the phone rang. I checked the caller ID, and I saw that it was the number of my good friend Ed.
"Hey," I said when I answered it.
"Hey. What's up," Ed asked.
"Nothing. I just got back from the beach. What's up with you?"
"The beach? What the hell were you doing at the beach? You're not sick?" He sounded a little disappointed that my health was good.
"Just hanging out. My folks are out of town, so I decided to have an early Spring Break."
He laughed as though I had said the most hilarious thing he had ever heard. His laughter was contagious, so I laughed, too.
"Are you by yourself," he asked. His tone of voice shifted radically with that statement from light banter to something incredibly serious.
"No. Jason's here. What's up?"
"I really need to talk to you," he said.
"Do you want to come over," I asked.
"Not if you're not alone," he said. There was genuine sorrow in his voice, and I was dying to know what that was all about.
"Do you want to meet somewhere," I asked. "Jason's probably going to want to take a nap, anyway."
"Yeah. Would you do that for me," he asked.
Like Jason and I, Ed and I had been friends all our lives. He was also close to Jason, but, evidently, he needed me at that moment and not Jason. I had no idea what was on his mind, but I knew he needed me. We made plans to meet in twenty minutes at a burger place we went to all the time. When I hung up, Jason wanted to know what was going on. I told him Ed wanted to talk to me.
"Well, let's go," he said.
"Er, Babe, he doesn't really want to talk to you right now," I said.
"Oh." There was a touch of hurt in his voice.
"Don't be like that, Jason. You know how Ed is. He's probably worried about calculus or some shit like that. You know I'll tell you all about it."
"So why doesn't he want to talk to me," he asked.
"I don't know, but please don't hassle me about this," I said.
He smiled his heart-melting smile.
"Okay. I'm pretty tired out, anyway. I'm going to grab a nap while you're gone."
"Okay. I love you," I said, and then I kissed him.
"I love you more," he said.
I could tell Ed was agitated when I walked into the burger place and saw him. I got a cup of coffee from the counter and joined him.
"Hey. What's up," I asked.
"Not much. What's up with you," he asked.
That was our ritual greeting, and I knew plenty was up with him.
"Do you mind if we sit in the smoking section," I asked.
"Naw. Sorry. I forgot." We moved to another section of the restaurant where I could smoke. I could drink a cup of coffee without having a cigarette if I had to, but I just didn't want to.
"So what's going on," I asked.
He looked at me with obvious pain on his face, and he was slow to answer.
"I'm dropping out of school," he said.
It took a moment for that to register. Ed was every bit as smart as Jason and I were, maybe even a tad smarter than Jason, and he was in all honors and Advanced Placement classes. Hearing him say that was not unlike hearing the Pope announce his engagement.
"What? Are you on crack or something," I asked. I barely believed my ears.
"Nope. I'm not on crack, and you heard me right. I'm dropping out and moving away. It's that or kill myself."
"Jesus CHRIST, man. How can you say that?"
"I can say it `cause it's true. I'm moving to Jacksonville to live with my sister. At least until I can get a place."
"What the fuck is this all about, man? How can you do this? How can you quit school? We've been best friends since forever. How can you do this to me?" I wasn't thinking well at just that moment.
"Something happened last night at home. It was pretty bad, and now I've got to leave. I only hung around today to see you at school to tell you, but you weren't there."
"What? What happened," I asked. I was very emotional at that point.
"I would have told you this eventually, okay? I just wanted to wait a while. The fact is, I'm gay, and I got caught last night."
I was in the middle of taking a sip of coffee when he said that, and I choked on it. I coughed a good bit, and some of the coffee came out of my nose. When I stopped coughing, I blew my nose on the ragged paper napkin I had picked up. I did that a lot, and it embarrassed the shit out of me every time.
"You're gay," I asked in disbelief. "Shit, I've been your friend for years. I'd know that about you if you were really gay. You're not really gay."
What was I saying, I wondered. Of course he could be gay without my knowing it, I thought. I was gay, and he didn't know it, did he? Or did he? Oh, shit!
"Kent, I really am gay, buddy. If you hate me for it, I understand, but that's really who I am. It's kind of a relief, to tell you the truth. For you and my parents to know, I mean."
"What happened? How did they find out," I asked. Maybe what happened to him would give me a clue about how my parents found out about me.
"I was careless, I guess. It was my computer. My dad had to use it yesterday because his was fried, and he found all my gay shit on it. You know, favorite Web sites, logs of me cybering with guys on IRC. All of it."
"He searched your computer," I asked, again in disbelief.
"Well, yeah. I guess. He found it, anyway. I was so embarrassed and ashamed, I cried.
"What did he say? What'd he do?"
"He came up to my room last night and told me he had used my computer during the day. He said he thought I should clean up my hard drive."
"Is that all he said," I asked.
"That's all he had to say. I knew what he was talking about."
"Well, how do you know he didn't just mean it was slow, or something? Like, when was the last time you defragged?"
"I don't know. I thought the system did that automatically," he said.
"No way, man. Not necessarily. Unless you have it set up that way, you've got to run the defrag program," I said.
"I think it's more a question of needing to defag than defrag, Kent. I'm the fag, and they want to get rid of me."
"Did they say they wanted you out of the house," I asked.
"They didn't have to," he said.
"Ed, I really think you might be over reacting," I said.
"What makes you say that?"
"Have they even used the word `gay' in reference to you," I asked.
"No, but it should be pretty apparent, don't you think?"
"Ed, I won't mention this to anybody, okay? Just go home and go about life as usual. If your dad says something, or gets mad at you or something, let me know if I can help, okay?"
I had known his parents for a long time, and I knew they didn't want him to move out and drop out of school, even if they did know he was gay.
When I got home, Jason asked me what Ed had wanted. I told him he needed help defragging his computer. That satisfied him, although I thought it was lame as hell.
Jason and I stayed out of school on Thursday, but we went back on Friday because we had been bored out of our minds at home all day. It was a good thing we did, too, because my parents were home when I got home from school.
"I thought y'all were going to be gone until Sunday or Monday," I said to both of them.
They were in the kitchen, drinking coffee.
"We were, but we changed our minds when I finished my business much earlier than I thought I would," Dad said.
"Oh," I said.
"Kent, this might be a good time for us to talk," Mom said. "Please try not to get upset. Dad and I have talked about this a good bit, and we don't want you to think we're being unreasonable."
There was suddenly a huge knot in my stomach. I knew this was coming, but I wasn't expecting it right then.
"Son, when you leave this house, walk out that door," Dad said, and paused.
Oh, Jesus, I prayed. I have to leave.
"I can't control what you do. You're an adult, and you have the right to make decisions about how you lead your life."
I looked at him to see if there was anger in his eyes, and there wasn't.
"When you're in this house, though, you follow our rules. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir, but being gay isn't something I chose, Dad. The other day you said you thought it was, and it isn't," I said. I was pretty close to tears, but I was holding back.
"Being gay? Is that what you thought we were talking about the other day," he ask, incredulous.
"Yes, sir," I said weakly.
"Kent, Dad and I have absolutely no problem with your being gay, and we both love Jason like a third son," Mom said.
"You knew about us?"
"Well, we weren't absolutely positive, but we've assumed you guys were gay for a couple of years now," Dad said. "And we're obviously fine with that."
All of a sudden, I felt alive again.
"What was it you were talking about, then," I asked.
"Kent, the other night I was right behind you coming home. I saw you throw a cigarette butt out of your car. That's what I was upset about," he said. "I won't have you or anybody else smoking in my house."
All of a sudden, that seemed incredibly funny to me. I started laughing, and that pissed him off.
"What's so damn funny," he demanded.
"Dad, for four days Jason and I, but especially me, have been dying because I thought you were going to put me out because I'm gay," I said. "Smoking is a total non-issue compared to that, and I just thought it was funny. I wasn't trying to be disrespectful."
"We've suspected Jason smoked for a couple of years, at least, and last summer we saw him smoking," Dad said. "As I said, we can't keep you from smoking, if that's what you want to do, but not in the house."
"I never smoke in the house, Dad," I said. That was a slight exaggeration, but it was close enough.
"Okay. That's all it was about," he said.
"My God," I thought.
When I told Jason, he almost shit. That night, we came out to his parents, and they were totally cool with it.
"Aren't you even going to cry," Jason asked them.
"Why? Would that make you un-gay," his dad asked.
"No, but still," Jase said.
"Son, we already knew," his mom said. "You boys are in love, and that's not exactly something you can hide, you know?"
I've read a million coming out stories on the Internet. Some have happy endings, and some are very sad. Mine was a non-story, in a way. yes"> I never smoked another cigarette in my parents' house after that episode. In fact, Jason and I made a New Year's resolution that year to quit, and we kept it. So much for National Coming Out Day for us, at least. Now, on to the Great American Smoke-Out.
The End