Quarry Tales

Episode 3 - Adam

I didn't know what gay was until somebody used the term when I was twelve. We'd finished lunch at school and a bunch of us were hanging around in the school yard until the bell rang for afternoon classes.

School had only been in session for a month. One of the kids had a brother in high school, and he was telling us about a gay kid who went there. None of the rest of us knew what it was all about, so he started explaining how some guys preferred boys to girls, and what they did with other. I hadn't heard of any of the acts he talked about, but his semi-informed descriptions of them awoke feelings in me. I'd had those feelings for a long time, maybe forever. I'd never even imagined such activities, but they stirred me just the same. I asked him how he knew guys did that stuff, and he said his brother and father had told him.

All the guys were making faces and noises to show that they were grossed out by what they were hearing. I joined them, feeling that if I didn't they'd be calling me some of the names he used - words like fag, homo and cocksucker.

The crowd I hung with were good kids, probably what most people would think of as typical pre-teens. We played basketball a lot, went bowling when we all had the money, and joked around all the time. We never talked about sex of any kind, though I was masturbating by that time. I don't know if anyone else was or not because the subject never came up. My father had always told me I could ask him anything I wanted about my body or about sex, but I couldn't even formulate the questions yet.

I guess at the time I was too young to be troubled about it all, but when I entered eighth grade the next year it seemed that sex was on all the boys' minds. We had constant discussions about which girls were hot and which ones weren't. My own interest in the opposite sex seemed pretty healthy at that point, but I think that was just because it was something new. I 'went out' with a lot of different girls and I liked most of them. 'Going out' for a thirteen year old in 1976 mostly meant walking a girl home from school, maybe stopping for a soda on the way, perhaps a matinee on Saturday. It also meant having a partner at school and 'Y' dances.

For the guys who did date, bragging was always one step ahead of reality. If you walked her home you'd say you held her hand. If you held her hand you'd say you kissed her. If you actually kissed her you'd say you got your hand in her shirt. It went the whole distance, but nobody in my circle of friends ever claimed to have gotten laid.

They were expecting me to be the first one because of my looks. I guess I was born lucky in that department. I was always just a little bigger than my friends. I was fairly well built, though I never did anything to make that happen. I had blond hair that stayed where I put it, and I had a nice face and straight, white teeth.

I was definitely girl bait, and that became annoying often enough. My phone would ring day and night with girls wanting to talk to me. I'd been raised to be polite at all times, but that got hard when the same girl called you for the fourth time in two hours. It got to the point where I had to go to my friends' houses to be able to finish my homework.

Our gang of eight held together pretty well. We lost one friend when his father, who worked for the railroad, got transferred when they cut back on service in our area. We never tried to replace him; we couldn't replace him. We all lived in the same neighborhood and had been friends since we could remember. It was me, Brian, Gary, Jimmy, Bobby, Raoul and Steve.

We weren't locked together to the point that we'd hog the sidewalk. In fact it got increasingly rare that we'd all be together at the same time, but there was always somebody in the group to do something with, and none of us felt the need to look outside for new friends. I guess there was a pair of what you'd call best friends there. Gary and Raoul were tight. You hardly ever saw them apart, and when you did they weren't quite the same guys.

I was closest with Brian, though we never called ourselves best friends. We lived two houses apart, and it was easiest for us to get together, even on school nights.

Brian was a little geeky, but he had both a sense of the universe and a sense of style. He was a little overweight, wore glasses, and usually had an expression like he was the lady on a stool looking down at a mouse.

As for style, think of a thirteen year old Willie Nelson. Brian was jeans and bandanas. He always had a bandana. He'd wear it around his neck or wrapped around his head. If it was someplace formal, he'd tie it around his arm. When we got hot playing ball he'd use it to tie his hair into a ponytail.

He was our deep thinker. He could mesmerize us with his visions of the future, and set us off laughing with his wacky analogies. Brian was the smart one, and he helped us all keep our grades up.

As my eighth-grade year progressed, I became more and more confused about sex. I liked my friends as people and I liked the girls I met as people. I didn't have designs on anybody, but when I was alone and playing with myself, I'd get visions. Faceless visions of somebody going down on me or letting me plug their butt. I knew somewhere down deep that the somebody wasn't a girl, but a boy. I'd be all excited while I was doing the deed, then feel disgusted afterwards.

I didn't know what was going on in my head, but it happened every time. I didn't know who this person in my dreams was, or why he was there with me, but he was my primary means of getting off. I could get it up thinking of girls ... the pretty ones and the good kissers, but when I was getting close it was always a boy who was there with me.

I'd heard a lot more stories about the gay kid in high school, and I wished I knew him. By the end of summer I was fairly certain that I was just like him. I just didn't want to face the idea that if I really was, I'd be the subject of all the stories that next year's seventh and eighth graders would hear.

Bulletin! Bulletin! Adam Danielson is now in the boy's room on the second floor giving blowjobs. He takes it all, folks, so come-one, come-all!

That's the kind of crap I'd been hearing about Rafe. I didn't believe it ... didn't want to believe it. I liked the idea of getting my dick sucked, but thinking of being the sucker made me want to puke.

On the first day of high school I was nervous for the normal reasons. The building was huge and I didn't know where anything was. I wasn't alone, but none of us knew anything. There were signs with arrows pointing to freshman orientation in the auditorium, so that's where we headed. We were following the signs when Bobby stopped us and pointed at another kid.

"That's Rafe! He's the queer kid."

I looked at the guy. He looked perfectly normal, if a little nervous. He was actually pretty good looking, like a younger version of somebody you'd see in a Marlboro commercial. We got swept along in the crowd headed to the auditorium. I had managed to learn that the guy's name was Rafe.

I saw him twice more that day. He was sitting by himself at a lunch table while some other kids were actually standing up to eat, their trays balanced on top of the garbage cans. I looked at him for a few seconds, then ate lunch with my friends. Just after the last bell, I saw him in a fight with three other kids his size. He was holding his own when the three suddenly broke it off, because one of them spotted a teacher coming.

The guy fascinated me, but I knew it was only because I thought I was like him. Observing the treatment he was receiving at the hands of others made me swear to myself that nobody would ever know my true feelings.

The next Monday Rafe, sat with another kid at lunch. I knew the kid was a freshman like me, but I didn't know who he was. They seemed to be having a normal lunchtime conversation when I walked by. The day after that there were five of them sitting together. I wasn't positive, but one or two of them looked like the guys that Rafe had the fight with the week before.

After awhile I noticed that Rafe seemed to be getting friendly with more and more people. His table in the cafeteria became a desirable place to sit. It was always loud and happy sounding over there. The gossip and innuendo about him gradually died down, being replaced by remarks about how cool he was. I felt good for him, but never got up the nerve to try to meet him or talk with him.

One day in late October, I went out into the schoolyard after lunch looking for my friends. It was a nice, warm day for that time of year, but they weren't there. I was leaning against the building enjoying the warmth of the day when I was approached by another kid. I knew his name was Sheehan and that he was a senior. He seemed to be in charge of everything that went on in the school. I was surprised to find him walking right up to me.

He held his hand out to shake. "Hey, kid. Steve Sheehan."

I took his hand and said, "Hi. I'm Adam Danielson."

He leaned against the building right beside me and looked around for a second. "Nice day, huh?"

"It's real nice. I wish I didn't hafta go back inside."

"You, uh, you got a girlfriend?"

"Lots, I guess. Nobody special though."

"What would you think if I said I knew a way you could have sex and get paid for doing it?"

That comment had to process through my brain about nine times before I grasped what he'd just said. "Get paid for sex?"

"Yeah. Ah, I know some people that make movies. They're always looking for new faces. They want good lookin' people like you and me."

I looked at him. "You've done that?"

"Lots of times. The problem is they don't wanna use the same people all the time. You get two, maybe three chances. Two or three more if you jump to the other side."

"What other side?"

"Do it with guys instead of girls."

My mouth was moving but no sounds were coming out. Steve laughed a little. "It's no big deal. The money's good and they never make you do anything you don't wanna do, or with anybody you don't want."

"I ... uh, I'm not interested."

"That's cool. This little talk never took place then. Is that okay?"

"That's fine by me."

"Give it some thought, Adam. I ain't gonna pressure you, but you'll never get much off the prissies in the freshman class."

"I ... I'll think about it."

The warning bell rang and we both headed inside.

My regular after school wank was fueled, for the first time ever, by full-fledged homosexual fantasies, and resulted in an orgasm so intense it was almost painful. As soon as my thoughts came back to me, the very acts that had seemed so alluring suddenly seemed gross. I put it out of my mind and started my homework, but about a half hour later I was back at it with even clearer fantasies. I managed another great orgasm, but I felt totally grossed out again afterwards.

When I went to bed that night, I had similar visions and another powerful orgasm, feeling the same revulsion afterwards. After it passed, I lay there wondering what the real thing was like. If whack-off fantasies could be so powerful, the real thing, with a real person, must be absolutely amazing.

Steve approached me a few more times, but he never put any pressure on me to go with him. My sexual fantasies were now totally homoerotic, though nobody in them ever had a face. I suppose that was because I'd never allowed myself to think of specific other guys.

After a couple of weeks I approached Steve right after lunch on a Friday. "Um, if I go and decide I don't wanna do it I can just leave, right?"

He looked at me, then said, "If you won't do it you shouldn't go. You're makin' a big deal of it in your head. Just go and get your rocks off a few times, then take the money and go home."

I had practiced the next line for several days in my head. "Um, I think I'd rather do it with other guys. It seems less involved that way."

Steve didn't give me any funny looks, so I guessed I'd said it the right way. "Good thinkin'. Doin' it with guys pays more, and you still pop your nut."

"Um, how old are these people?"

"Mostly between ten and twenty. If anybody's older they don't look it. Don't worry, man. They don't use any creeps in these flicks. Your looks will be just average in this crowd. You think you wanna to try it?"

"I guess ... um, when?"

"Let me make a call. I'll be right back."

I followed him to one of the pay phones instead. He made a call from the booth, then came out and said, "Tomorrow. Ten AM. I'll pick you up."

I'd agreed to this with the thought that it would be some time in the future. Doing it the very next day seemed very sudden, but Steve kept reassuring me that I'd do fine and have a great time. We picked a spot a few blocks from my house where he could pick me up. I had one last question.

"What do you get out of this?"

"Commissions, man. My face is used up, so they pay me to find new ones."

Steve gave me some final instructions, then we headed our separate ways. I did my homework after school, then went bowling with the guys. I made up a story that I thought I might get laid that weekend, so they'd promise not to call my house for any reason. I said I told my parents I was going with them.

A blend of fear and excitement made it hard for me to sleep that night, but I felt okay the next morning. Per Steve's suggestion, I took a bath and followed it with a shower. I had breakfast with my parents and they asked if I felt alright. I guess I was being pretty quiet for a Saturday. I assured them everything was fine, then left to meet Steve. I was nervous as hell, but I got into his Mustang when he showed up.

We drove two towns away and ended up at a beautiful sprawling ranch house. There were a lot of cars in the driveway and a lot of people inside the house. It didn't take long to figure out that they were making several films at once. A guy took me and two other kids aside and explained what we'd be doing. One of the kids had blonde hair like me. He was going to play my younger brother. The other kid had black hair and looked kind of out of it, but he seemed familiar too - like somebody I knew. He was supposed to be a friend of mine from school who I'd invited over to swim in the pool. The 'plot' was that he'd catch me looking at the bulge in his bathing suit and ask me if I was interested. Then we'd go to my room and mess around, ending up in a sixty-nine. We'd be interrupted by my 'little brother' and I'd get so mad that I'd bend him over and start plugging his butt. He'd start screaming and the other kid would stick his dick in his mouth to shut him up.

Some plot. We got started out by the pool, then the dark haired kid and I went into a bedroom and started on each other. It was weird. We both had hardons and what we were doing felt good, but the director guy would keep yelling 'CUT' and have us change positions while they moved the cameras.

We got a thirty minute break while they went to get the third kid 'ready'. The kid I was with walked out, leaving me naked and alone on the bed. He came back in a few minutes looking much happier. When they came in with the younger kid we started right in. It was more of the same thing. Start ... stop ... CUT! We continued for a long time like this. The director finally told us to finish up.

I looked at him. "What?"

"Finish up, kid. Get your rocks off. Make sure you pull out in time. It's the cumshots that sell this stuff."

We finished up. I won't tell you what we did next, but it was for extra money. Then we jumped in the pool for a while to clean up.

I'd earned $350, and it was still only about two-thirty. Steve was waiting for me. On the way home he said the people thought I'd done well and wanted me to come back the next day. They wanted me and the black haired kid to do some scenes with just the two of us. I hadn't really liked what I'd done that day but I said yes anyhow, thinking that maybe it'd be better the second time.

The next day the two of us did everything to each other. I got another $400, but I still didn't like what I'd done. Steve brought me home. He looked pretty happy, but I wasn't. Greeting my parents and having Sunday dinner with them made me feel worse.

After dinner, I went to my room and laid down on the bed.

I felt awful about what I'd done. I felt like the money was a giveaway, and put it in a sock and hid it away in the pocket of an old jacket in my closet. I'd had sex with two guys and didn't even know their names. Nobody had said a word other than the few in the 'script' and a few others when we were getting into the right positions. They were complete strangers. I couldn't believe that sex was so far removed from my visions of it, from the intimacy I'd expected.

I sat at my desk, then suddenly I was crying. I didn't have a word for what I felt I'd given away, but I knew it was something important and something I could never get back. I felt dirty beyond measure and took a shower, but it didn't help. It wouldn't wash off. Beyond the sexual acts there was the deceit. I'd lied to my friends, lied to my parents. I couldn't undo that either. I looked in the mirror to comb my hair. The person looking back at me wasn't the same one I'd grown up with. Instead, I was looking at a lying pervert, somebody not worthy of sharing my reflection.

I cried myself to sleep that night. I couldn't shake the thought that I was no longer deserving of my parents' love, my friends' trust.

When I went to school the next day, I turned from my locker and found myself looking right at the kid I'd had sex with all weekend. It was Rafe's friend! Where we'd been and what we'd been doing had been so far out of context that I hadn't recognized him. We looked at each other for a second, then he dropped his things on the floor and turned away. I glanced down at what he'd dropped on the floor, and when I looked back up he was gone.

I grew a shell after that, just like a lobster does. I did less and less with my friends until I didn't go anywhere with them anymore. Brian was the only one I still talked to, and that was really because he lived so close that I couldn't avoid him if I tried. By the early part of the next year Brian was my only friend, and that was only because he was insistent. I had pretty well clammed up, and Brian had to do most of the talking.

One day in February, we were sitting at lunch when Rafe came and sat beside Brian. He said it was the only seat in the whole cafeteria. He was straight across from me. I had never spoken to the guy before, even though I'd wanted to. It took about a minute to see why he was so popular. Aside from being big and good looking, he had a charm - a warmth and friendliness that just oozed out of him. I hadn't really talked to anyone other than Brian and my family in a while, but Rafe was easy to talk to. He just made it seem that there were no barriers between him and the rest of the world. We didn't talk about anything important, but it was the first conversation I'd wanted to be a part of in a long time.

Brian and I talked to Rafe frequently after that, feeling that he was letting us be his friends. We sat together at lunch from time to time and got to know each other. One day Brian was out with the flu. I sat with Rafe for lunch, then when the table emptied out I got up the nerve to ask him about being gay, what it was like for him.

"What's it like? It's not any different, I guess. I like guys the way you like girls, but everything else is about the same. I used to get hassled a lot, but I think I let it happen. I was thinking there was something wrong with me, but there isn't. I'm just a person like everybody else. I just had to learn to get along, now everything's fine."

"Did you ... ever do anything?"

"Define 'do anything," Rafe said suspiciously.

I felt myself blush, "I mean ... Oh, just forget it. It's not my business."

"You talkin' about sex? You're right, it's not your business. No's the answer, not that it matters."

I'd embarrassed myself and felt really stupid for asking. "I'm sorry I asked. You're right - it's none of my business."

Rafe looked at me. "Why is it you're always by yourself? You seem like the kind of kid who'd have tons of friends."

"Why? Just because I look good?"

"That's not what I meant at all. You just seem like a good kid. I'm surprised to see you alone all the time."

I don't know why, but I got angry. I stood up and picked up my tray, then looked at Rafe again. "Maybe I don't want any friends, Rafe. Maybe I like being by myself!"

With that I turned and went to dump my tray. Rafe was right behind me. "Take it easy, Adam. I didn't wanna get you mad."

I deflated a little and turned around, my butt leaning against a garbage can and my gaze turned to the floor.

I gathered my thoughts before saying anything, because I certainly wasn't angry with Rafe. He was a good guy, and I wanted him as a friend. "It's not you, Rafe. I just can't handle too many people anymore." I looked up at his face. "Don't be mad, I'm just a fuck-up."

He gave me a quizzical smile. "Sure. Let's sit together again tomorrow, okay?"

"Thanks, Rafe," I said in relief, then I managed a little smile.

We ate lunch together a lot after that, usually with Brian but sometimes by ourselves when Brian sat with our old gang. He was still hanging out with those guys, doing the same things we always did.

When I was alone with Rafe, he asked a lot about my friendship with Brian, the things we did together and that kind of thing. He wanted to know what Brian liked. Brian always wanted to know what Rafe had talked about when he wasn't around. I felt like a go-between and told them both that they should talk to each other.

Brian started taking driving lessons. He was really excited because, his father was going to buy him a car as soon as he got his license. I felt good for him, but bad for myself. I still had another year to wait, and no promise of a car from my father.

Brian was almost exactly a year older than me. Our birthdays were seven days apart. He'd had an illness in first grade that made him miss enough school that they had to keep him back. I'd always thought that was the reason he seemed so much smarter than the rest of us, but the fact was he was just smarter.

Two weeks before he was supposed to get his license he made plans to go to Vermont to visit a friend of Rafe's. He came to my house after school on the Friday before they were leaving. It was raining out, so we just sat and watched TV for a while. Brian was being pretty quiet, so I eventually asked him if anything was wrong.

"Adam. There's something I hafta say. I hope you don't hate me for it."

I knew what was coming, and I had it coming. I was too boring, and once Brian got his car he'd be spending his time with other people. It made me feel bad, but I couldn't blame him. I was the little pile of filth that nobody ever bothered to sweep up; Brian was just the last friend to see that. I steeled myself for what he had to say.

"We're best friends, right Adam?"

Best Friends? We'd never ever said that to each other. Was he still going to say something awful? Best friends? Did that mean best friends or living-closest-to-each-other friends? Didn't best friends tell each other their secrets? I never told anybody mine. Nobody knew.


"Oh ... yeah."

"Promise you won't tell anybody, even if you get mad."

I knew it! I was getting dumped by the last person my age who even talked to me. Who'd he think I'd tell? The walls?

"I promise."

"Adam ... I'm in love."

Huh? The shell around me that had just thickened by several layers seemed to disappear. Brian was in love? He was telling me first?

"You're in love? Why would that get me mad?"

Brian looked right at me, a strange look in his eyes. "I'm in love with Rafe, Adam. I'm gay just like he is."

My brain took a long time to process that. I'd known Brian for all of my conscious life, Rafe for half a school year. I'd just been trying to sort out my own feelings, then the person who spent the most time with me told me he had the same feelings.

He said it! It had been that close to me all along and I never had a clue. What about Rafe? Everybody knew he was gay, but by pure dint of personality he'd become popular anyhow. Very popular. How was Brian going to deal with this? Rafe had always been nice to us, but he was nice to everybody. That's how he stayed popular. Could I ever tell Brian that I felt the same way?

Too many thoughts. Too much time. I heard Brian saying, "I'll go now. Sorry."

That cut through to me. "BRIAN, WAIT!"

He turned around and I could see tears running down his face, starting behind his glasses. "Don't go, Brian. Tell me about it."

He sniffed, then pulled off his glasses and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He started to smile, then started pouring out tears again. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. Sit down, let me get you a Kleenex or something."

I ran to the kitchen and pulled some paper towels off the roll, then brought them into the living room and handed them to Brian. He'd stopped crying, but as soon as he saw me handing him the towels he started up again. He wouldn't or couldn't stop sobbing. I started to sit next to him but he pushed me away pretty violently. I thought he was in a rage until I saw him pick up his glasses from where I had almost sat. It made me laugh.

Brian looked at me, then started laughing through his tears.

"I'm sorry, Adam. I really thought you'd kick me out. You wanna hear it?"

"Go ahead."

Brian went on to say how he'd always felt different from the rest of us. It hadn't mattered when we were little, but when we got older and started thinking about things sexual he'd always felt out of place. Then, when he started talking to Rafe, it became more and more clear to him that he wasn't interested in women, just guys. One guy, that is. Rafe Anziano. He thought - hoped - that Rafe felt the same way, but was too scared to ask.

"So you're goin' to Vermont with him?"

"Yeah. Maybe just the drive'll give me the nerve. I don't know, Adam. He keeps me thinkin' that maybe he likes me, maybe even loves me, but it's never right out there for me to grab." He gave me a weak smile. "Help me out here. I'm goin' nuts."

"I ... I don't know how to help you, Brian. Who's this guy in Vermont, anyhow?"

"It's a friend of Rafe's. Rafe says he's the guy that helped him to start makin' friends again. Now he's in trouble, and Rafe wants to go visit. I'm just goin' for the ride."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I guess he got strung out on drugs. I'm not sure; all I know is Rafe feels bad and wants to go visit."

"Well, maybe somethin'll happen up there - maybe you and Rafe can talk things out."

Brian looked dejected, then turned his face to mine. "What about you, Adam? What the hell's goin' on in your head?"

"I ... whattya mean?"

"Come on! You know what I mean. You don't do anything anymore."

I didn't say anything, just looked away from Brian.

"Something happened, Adam. Just tell me what it is, and we can fix it."

Yeah, right. Fix the fact that I can't stand looking in the mirror. Fix the fact that I hate myself. Fix the fact that I'm gay but I think sex is dirty. "Nothing's wrong," I said, and I could tell that I sounded unconvincing.

"How the hell can you say that? You used to be in the middle of everything, now you don't even watch anymore." He was getting excited. "You got everybody thinkin' it was somethin' they did. You have friends, Adam, and you have 'em all feeling bad because you won't say anything. If you don't want 'em around anymore you could at least say why!"

I stood up and walked towards the front door, hoping Brian would get the hint and go home. I turned to look at him. "It's not you guys, Brian. It's just me, so don't worry, okay?"

Brian was picking up his things. When he got to where I was standing he gave me a worried look. I gave him a half smile, then said, "I hope things work out for you with Rafe."

He took one more shot at it. "I wish you'd say what's buggin' you. You're my friend and I hate seein' you disappear like this."

I was quiet for a moment, then opened the door. "Bye, Brian. Have fun."

He looked at me for a moment, then stepped through the door. He started to turn around, but I just closed it. That was me. Brian had just told me his deepest secret, but when he asked why I was being such a jerk I just about kicked him out. Two gay boys, one on a quest for love and one who'd had it and hated himself for it. I thought I should warn Brian that what he was looking for wasn't a good thing, but then I'd have to tell him how I knew.

I spent most of the weekend by myself, then late Sunday afternoon Brian stopped over. He was all excited, and when I opened the door he grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. He was just about jumping up and down.

"I told him, Adam, and guess what? He likes me, too! I can't believe it! Rafe likes me!"

His enthusiasm and happiness made me smile. Brian had always seemed like a pretty happy kid, but it was a kind of steady-state happiness. He rarely got down about anything, but real exuberance was even more rare. I was grinning at him, then he stopped bouncing for a second and hugged me.

It was something I'd never done with him before, and it felt good. Brian liked his food, so his hug felt soft and warm, like my mother's might have felt if her boobs had suddenly descended to her stomach. I hugged him back, feeling good to see him so happy.

After a few seconds, he put his hands on my shoulders and backed up, looking into my eyes. The happiness in his own eyes allowed me to hold his gaze instead of looking away. "The next one's you, Adam." He was grinning like the devil. "I'm stickin' with you 'til you tell me exactly what the fuck's goin' on! There ain't no way I'm gonna be this happy and still see you bein' miserable. Your goose is cooked!"

I was touched. I suddenly remembered Brian saying we were best friends. He was glowing right there in front of me, looking happy to the core. He'd found what he wanted, and it should have been what I wanted. I'd been there though, had gay sex and ended up hating it. I got depressed and took a step back to break the contact. I didn't want to make Brian feel bad too, though.

"So, what's Rafe's friend like?"

Brian sat down on the grass and I sat facing him. "His name's Dave. He's real sick right now, but he seems neat. He's on top of things, anyhow. He got me to tell Rafe how I felt about him. It's funny ... the kid has no self-esteem, but he knows how to make other people feel good. It just seems like he hates himself, but just loves everybody else to death." His look hardened. "He's a lot like you, Adam."


"Yeah. He doesn't talk about his own problems, but he'll help anybody else with theirs. He's good, too. I think he reads people. I know he could see that I loved Rafe. He teased the shit out of us, but Rafe wouldn't budge. Later on, he pushed me into telling Rafe what I felt, then made himself and everyone else disappear so we'd be alone. Guess what? Rafe felt the same, but he was as scared as me to say it ... to be wrong about it."

Brian was smiling hard enough to hurt his face, and it made me smile back. "That's great, Brian, but why's he a lot like me?"

He got up close and wagged his finger in my face. "Because, fuckhead, he won't tell anybody what's botherin' him! It's so exactly like what you're doin'." He dropped his hand and leaned even closer so we were almost nose to nose. "Adam, I'm your friend. I'm right here! I hate seein' ya turn into a fuckin' vegetable. Tell me what's goin' on in your head and I'll help you. I can't do a damned thing if I don't know."

I couldn't. I turned my head away. "I can't, Brian. Not now, anyhow."

I looked back at him, hoping to find something I knew wasn't there. "Keep tryin' though, will ya?"

He did. For the next month Brian stuck with me, gradually weakening my defenses. One day I finally blurted out that I was gay, too. That didn't change much, because being gay wasn't really what bothered me. It was the sex, but after I'd told Brian, I felt free to ask him if he'd ever done anything with Rafe. He wouldn't tell, and I took that to mean he hadn't, and that was the reason that he was happy and I was miserable.

I spent many sleepless nights wondering if those other words had meaning. Was a faggot different than a gay person? Did gay people love people and not have sex, while faggots had sex without love? Was that the fundamental difference between me and Brian?

I knew that real love existed. I didn't have to look outdoors to know that. My parents were happy people, and their love for each other was obvious ... infectious even. Their love for me seemed to have no bounds. Every discipline I'd ever had was followed by a hug and an expression of love.

I started seeing it with Brian and Rafe, too. They were the only people I spent time with. It was just like between my parents - the mutual respect, concern and caring, the little touches, the knowing looks, the shared moments that required no comment.

Toward the end of summer, Brian and Rafe literally dragged me to a picnic to welcome Rafe's friend home from Vermont. I'd been hearing about him all summer, and pictured him as some sort of saint. I went with them, but when I met the kid my heart stopped. I think his did too, as it took two other guys to keep him on his feet.

He was one of the kids from the porno films I'd been in. He quickly got me away from everybody else and we talked. He was good, just like Rafe and Brian had promised. I listened to him and felt better after ten minutes than I had in almost a year. He'd been where I'd gone and stayed there a lot longer than I had, but he'd learned things along the back.

What I'd done had been stupid and self-centered, but not life threatening. Dave had done much worse and he was rebounding, so why shouldn't I?

The next day I went to find my old friends and told them what it had all been about. Out of five people, two said they always thought I was queer, two didn't suspect it but didn't care. Raoul simply didn't believe it, but when I insisted it was true he didn't seem to mind

Over the next few weeks I got closer with Dave and got back with my old friends. I was free with my thoughts, like I used to be, but I still felt dirty inside. I never talked with anybody about any sexual subjects. It just wasn't in me, and if the topic came up I'd just space out until it was over.

I was jealous of what I saw between Dave and his friend Tim. I desperately wanted somebody for myself, but that somebody had to be happy just holding on and maybe kissing. Sex would be out of the question. It was too emotionless, too dirty, too vile.

I finally did tell Brian and Rafe about the film I'd made and how it made me feel dirty, and that was the real reason I'd been so difficult. Telling them that really tore me up, but I talked with Dave about it afterwards and started to feel better.

That weekend we all went to a big Labor Day picnic at Dave's friend's place. That's where I met Eddie. We'd both been there all morning, but I didn't see him until we were finishing lunch.

I was sitting on the lawn with some people when he came walking out of the woods with Brian and Rafe. I think I said something when I first saw him, but as he got closer all I could do was stare. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen - the first boy who'd turned me on with just his looks. He had dark red hair and an athletic build.

When he noticed me looking at him his eyes locked on mine. He kept coming closer, and I could see he had little freckles on his nose, red lips and gray/green eyes. He was beyond handsome - he was beautiful.

He seemed just as engrossed in me. When he sat down, he half-landed on another kid's knee, and I don't think he even noticed. I somehow felt that we were communicating with just our eyes. We didn't say a thing, then suddenly Dave yanked me away, and warned me that the red head had some bad problems, and that I should just try to be friends. I don't think I heard him the first few times, but he finally got through.

That boy and I walked out into the woods and down to a pond. We took our shoes off and sat on a rock with our feet in the water, still just looking at each other. We finally started talking, immediately telling each other that we were gay, then laying out our problems as if we'd known each other forever. We even got around to telling each other our names. He was Eddie. Eddie! A great name if I ever heard one.

We sat together at a campfire that night, and Eddie sang some songs while I played the guitar. He had a fantastic voice.

We held hands afterwards, then my father came over to drop off my sleeping bag. I think he saw me holding Eddie's hand, but I didn't care. I'd been planning to tell my parents about being gay, and that seemed like the perfect time. I thought they'd figured something out anyhow, but nothing had ever been said. Dad took it well. He gave me the biggest hug ever, then said I was the best thing that had ever happened to him and my mother.

On Labor Day, my father drove me over to Eddie's house. He lived a couple of towns away, but his parents and mine had agreed to provide transportation for us. They weren't promoting anything, really, just trying to give us the chance to become friends. I actually got quite a lecture about being too young for sex on the way to Eddie's. My father was pretty adamant about it. I was sure I'd never tell him about the movies, but started to wonder if my problem was that I'd been too young to do the things I did. It made sense, based on what my father was telling me.

Eddie and I hung around his house for a while, then walked to a park. Some other kids were playing basketball and I wanted to join them, but Eddie was afraid they'd just beat him up. He said those kids went to his school, and everyone there hated him. I didn't want to spend the day doing nothing, and I finally convinced Eddie to give it a try. We'd just had some fighting lessons from Dave the day before, and it seemed like the worst thing that could happen was we'd get into a fight we could win.

When we approached the guys they seemed friendly enough, and they let us in the game. It was fun because we were pretty evenly matched ability-wise. After we'd played for about an hour, we went and got a soda. The guys sat with us and yakked about nothing in particular for a while, then we all went our separate ways.

Eddie was furious with himself for misjudging all the kids in school who'd just remained silent. A relative handful of kids had been tormenting him after they learned he was gay. He'd assumed it was everybody, and had hidden away from everyone in school for over a year. If the kids we'd just shot hoops with were an example of the 'silent majority', then they'd either never heard the stories about Eddie, had figured them to be nothing more than rumors, or just plain didn't care.

Eddie's anger with himself seemed to be building as we continued walking. On the way back towards his house we turned onto a path that led into some woods, then onto a lesser path that intersected with it. After walking a for while we came to a little clearing and sat down. We were side by side and I stretched my arm around Eddie's back. He leaned into me a little, then smacked himself on the forehead, saying, "I can't believe it! What a dumb fuck!"

"Take it easy, Eddie. How could you know any different? Maybe they were just afraid to start anythin' because there were two of us."

"There were five of them," he explained.

I laughed, "Yeah, but they probably know killers when they see 'em."

"Heh, yeah. Like we look dangerous."

I leaned my head on Eddie's shoulder. I could smell his sweat, but I didn't find it unpleasant at all. He leaned his head towards mine until his cheek was on my hair. I felt very comfortable right then, very connected.



"What do you think?"

His voice sounded dreamy. "About what?"

"About me ... about us."

"Us? You think there's an us?"

"I really like you, Eddie. I ... I never felt like this before."

"Like what?"

"Close, I guess. I like touching you like we're doing. You feel ... good."

Eddie let out a sigh, then said, "Oh, God! I can't believe you're saying that. You feel good, too. Real good. You really like me?"

I loosened my grip on his back and began gently sliding my hand up and down. "I really do. I can't believe I'm doin' this. Does it feel good? 'Cause it feels great to me ... you feel great."

I could feel Eddie relaxing, the tension leaving his body. It made what I was doing feel even better to me, knowing I could get him to relax like that.

"Adam ... don't stop. I haven't felt this good since ..."

I was almost whispering. "Since when, Eddie?"

He suddenly sat up and put his elbows on his knees, resting his head in his hands. I kept my arm around his back, still stroking.

"Since I fucked up with Bax. It was just like this, Eddie. Almost exactly like this. He said he loved me, then I kissed him and all hell broke loose. I still can't believe it."

We were quiet for a few minutes. "Eddie?"


"I'd like it if you kissed me. I want you to."

He lifted his head and looked at me. He looked ready to cry. "Really, Adam?" He grinned slyly, "You're pretty forward."

I was nervous. "I'm pretty desperate. I think I love you, Eddie. I'm sure I do. I love you, Eddie Andrews. I want to kiss you."

Tears started leaking from Eddie's eyes, but he slowly moved his face towards mine. Our lips finally connected and all thought left my mind. We fell into an embrace and held the kiss. I felt like I was going backwards, then suddenly realized I was. Eddie was leaning into me, then on top of me, making the kiss more aggressive. The feelings that were going through me are hard to put into words. My heart was racing and my breath was short. My dick was so hard that I thought for sure any sudden movement would surely snap it off like a twig.

We maneuvered a bit more onto our sides. Eddie pressed into me. As soon as I realized that the extra pressure I was feeling on my dick was from Eddie's own hardon, I shot off right in my pants. I was gasping too hard to hold the kiss, and I backed off trying to catch my breath. Eddie kept stretching his mouth to mine and I kept backing away.

"What, Adam? What's wrong."

I was totally embarrassed. "Um, nothing. Just out of breath."

"Me, too." He grinned at me. "Guess what?"


"I just shot a load in my pants."

I heard it, but it took a minute to register. I started giggling, then laughing out loud.

Eddie looked stricken. "You think it's funny?"

I could only wheeze, but finally managed to gasp out, "Me, too!"

"You too what? Oh ... Omigod! Really?"

"Really. I gotta get this stuff off me. You ready for a naked Adam or should I go in the woods?" Eddie grinned and I leaned over to kiss his freckled nose.

He looked at me. "What're ya gonna do?"

"Get rid of these underpants, what else?"

"I can't believe this happened. This don't count as sex, does it?"

I thought about that for a few seconds. "It can't. It felt too good, and I don't feel bad."

Eddie gave me the best grin I'd seen from him. "You don't? Does that mean you really love me? You're ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"To dump your undies before it leaks through."

"Why's that sound gross?"

Eddie sat back and started taking his sneakers off. "Because it is gross, Adam. I don't think you're supposed to cum in your underpants."

He was undoing his belt. I sat down and yanked off my shoes. Eddie had stood up to pull down his pants. I watched as he pulled them down over his hips. He looked at me and smiled. I could see the bulge in his underwear. His very soggy underwear. I stood up and pulled my jeans down, then stepped out of my briefs.

I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn't. I was facing Eddie and he was facing me as he pulled off his own shorts. I was looking at his dick, but when I looked at his face I found him looking at mine. We both smiled quickly, then went back to our inspections. Eddie was either still half-hard of half-hard again. I was all the way there.

Without thinking and without asking I dropped to my knees. I put my hands on Eddie's butt cheeks and pulled him to me, then took him in my mouth. I could sense his surprise, but I just went to work on him like I had done to Dave in the movies. I heard him saying something, but I don't know if it was words or not. I was cleaning him off and pleasuring him at the same time. It didn't take long before he released.

I held him there for a long time, savoring every second. When he started to soften, I backed off and looked up at him, not knowing what to expect. He was looking down at me with his mouth half open, a dreamy look on his face. I asked, "Well?"

His expression kept changing. It went from dreamy to dumfounded, then into a crooked smile, which quickly turned into a grin. He suddenly looked concerned and held his hand out to help me up. "Are you okay, Adam? Do you feel gross now?"

I didn't. I didn't! I pulled him into a hug, my own bone poking him in his dark red pubes. I felt great! No remorse. No revulsion. I'd just pleasured Eddie and it had been wonderful, just like I knew it should be. I smiled broadly, then kissed him. It turned into a long gentle one, and I was reveling in it when Eddie broke off and started to kneel down.

When he found his target, the boy in my long-ago dreams suddenly had a face. The dark red hair, the red lips, the perfect white teeth, were all suddenly joined by a beautiful voice, gray/green eyes and ... and a velvety tongue.

After, as we lay there, we couldn't look at one another without giggling. It was love, no doubt in this kid's mind. I couldn't look at that face without kissing it, couldn't look at those freckles without loving them, couldn't look into those eyes without seeing my love returned.

We eventually started to feel foolish. We both still had our shirts and socks on and it was cause for some major giggling. We got up and brushed ourselves off, then put our pants on and started to leave. I stopped and turned around. Our underpants were still laying on the ground and I thought they deserved better than that.

Not a lot better. We found some fairly round rocks and put them in the briefs, then picked up some sticks and worked them in there so they looked like boners.

We left them there side by side, stains and all.

We didn't think of it at the time, but it was a little monument to our love. Our monument.