Don't Read in the Closet volume one (72 page)

“Honestly, when
did you know?”

“In a way, I
probably always knew. But it wasn't till – I was maybe14 when I came to terms
with my sexuality. Accepting myself for who I was and not trying to meet
everyone's expectations.”

“But, you never
acted all
sissy
like.”

“Thanks.” He
snickered. “Besides, not all gay people are effeminate.”

“So, when did
you first kiss a guy?”

“Not until I
left here. Think about it, how many gay people do you know in our town?”

Parker did not
respond, suspecting he interpreted the question as rhetorical. “That's exactly
my point. I didn't meet a gay guy till I went into the army.”

“Are you happy
– you know – being gay?”

“Are you happy
being straight?” snickering at his come-back jab. Parker did not respond. Jaime
began picking up on Parker's silent seriousness. Not once, during the evening,
had Parker found any of Jaime's light comments humorous. Park was always the
life of the party, quick wit and ever present contagious laugh, but not
tonight, the abrupt serious tone was alarming.

“Why the
interrogation tonight? I know it's not something we've really talked about, but
why the sudden interest?”

“I don't know.
Guess I just want to know more about the part of you that we – you know – never
really talked about.”

“That's cool,”
getting up from the lounger, “want another beer?”

“Sure.”

“Be right
back,” nonchalantly trailing his finger tips across Parker's bare shoulder
before sauntering toward the house.

Parker's body
tingled from the touch, his dick responded by tenting in his worn jersey
shorts. Cupping his face in his hands, he was overcome with confusion, not sure
if he wanted to cry or rejoice. Was he craving human contact so badly he
welcomed Jaime's touch as substitution for that of a woman? He shook his head.
This
can't be happening. I'm not gay. I'm not.
Tucking his ballooning boner
between his legs just before Jaime returned with two more bottled beers. An
electric jolt shot through his body as their fingers touched when he accepted
the beer. Gazing into Jaime's twinkling eyes, rattled, he could not understand
his sudden desire to draw him into his arms and kiss him.

Settling back
into the lounger, “I’d forgotten just how quiet and dark it gets here at
night.” Jaime lazily gazed up into the night sky, “just look at all those
stars. Man oh man, there are so many little things I'd forgotten about Georgia.
It's good being back, and being here with you again,” resting his hand on top
of Parker's hand. “It's just like old times, you know?”

“Yeah,” he
managed to reply distantly, pinching his eyes closed, trying to block out the
unnatural desires coursing through his being. Jaime's hand felt so good on his,
but this was not right. Warily, he pulled his hand away; willing to chop it off
his arm if that would eradicate the recent unexplained perverted thoughts.
Why?
After all these years, am I suddenly experiencing erotic feelings towards
Jaime? He's a guy for Christ's sake!

“Honestly,
what's bugging you? You've been unusually quiet all evening.”

Sucking a long
draw from his beer, “just have a lot on my mind, I suppose,” unable to reveal
the unsettling confusion colliding within the cells of his brain.

“I can
appreciate that. Maybe I should go to bed and leave you with your thoughts.”
Jaime rose to leave.

“No. Don't
leave.” Parker grabbed Jaime's wrist like a vise. Surprised by the forceful
grip, Jaime had reason for concern; desperation glowed from within Parker's
eyes. Something disturbing was deeply troubling him, that was clear, but what?
He could not leave his bud unchaperoned in this state of mind. Settling back
into the lounger, his heart bled for Parker.
Not being the
kind of man to let work or anything bother
him, Parker was
such an easy going guy, this was so unlike him. Or maybe, after all these
years, things actually started to bother good ol' Park.
Making
himself
available, no matter what, Jaime would stand beside
his friend. There was way too much history between them for him to abandon Park
when he needed him most.

Constellations
silently shifted across the sky's velvet canvas while a waning crescent moon
sailed effortlessly like an artist’s skilled brush, painting a tranquil scene
as serenading crickets inspire the artistic muse. Jaime absorbed the night into
his pores, not realizing until that moment, how much he had missed the simple
pleasures of home. Time erases pain, hurt and insignificance; sometimes we need
to be reminded of those forgotten, inconsequential memories, as they may
someday turn out to be the most important.

“Did your
parents know you were gay?”

Startled, it
had been an hour or more since a word had been shared between them, suddenly
out of nowhere Parker broke the silence. Thinking for a minute, Jaime threw his
head back whooping, “You're kidding right? My Southern Baptist Bigoted Bible
thumpin' parents?” His laughter vanished as his voice grew soft and somber, “I
never had the chance to tell them. Well, maybe I didn't have the courage.
Anyway, they died never knowing.”

“Who knew you
were – well – that way – besides me?”

“You'll be
honored to know you hold the sole privilege.”

Curiously
turning to look at Jaime, “but why me?”

“I don't
rightly know, I guess – I thought if maybe you knew – you’d tell me you were
secretly gay too and we'd live happily ever after.” Jaime chuckled. “I know. It
was stupid. We do a lot of silly things when we're kids. Who'd have imagined
ten years ago, we'd still be best friends, downing brewskis' under the stars?
Life can be puzzling sometimes, ya know? Some things change and some don't.”

****

Just like the
night before, Jaime laid naked in his bed, thinking about Parker, but tonight,
he felt compassion and concern for his burdened bud. Slipping out of bed, he
quietly padded barefoot across the room, opened his door very quietly, hoping
it would not squeak, not wishing to disturb Parker. Slipping bare-ass naked
into the hall, he quietly worked his way to Parker's bedroom door, finding it
slightly ajar, he peeked in to check on Parker. Sleeping soundly, Jaime was
relieved, but he could not take his eyes off the naked man he longed for,
stretched across the bed, laying on his side, round firm butt cheeks facing his
direction. In the minimal light cast through the window by the sliver of a
moon, Parker was absolutely fucking gorgeous, just like he had imagined.
Unaware he was stroking his rock hard cock until he felt precum lubricating the
fist he was unconsciously fucking. The sight of Parker, the lubrication in his
hand – then Parker rolled over onto his back, exposing an erect, thick, long
cock, jerking wildly in the air. Jaime's mouth watered, his ass hole twitched
with longing desire. Gasping, he shot not one, but four thick creamy streams of
jizz onto the floor, the door and his bare feet.

****

“Jaime!”
Jolting up in the bed, Parker clasped his hands to his mouth, he was not sure,
but he may have cried out in his sleep.
I pray to God, he didn't hear me.
Sitting motionless for a few moments, keenly listening to detect if Jaime
stirred in the next room. Nothing. Apparently his outburst had gone unnoticed.
Climbing out of bed, he paced naked in the dark, his erect cock bounced with
each step, as he tried recalling the details of his nightmare. Actually it had
not been a nightmare at all, not much different than the previous nights dream,
but for some reason, it was no longer frightening to him. He actually embraced
the idea of kissing Jaime. He wanted to kiss the lips he loved to watch as Jamie
spoke. Flopping on his back into his bed, he laughed maniacally. Closing his
eyes he reveled in the images of Jaime swimming in his head. Grabbing his
pulsating cock in his fist, feverishly pumping to the erotic images of Jaime
spinning madly in his head, like an out-of-control carnival carousel. Releasing
a groan of sheer ecstasy, a geyser of liquid seed gushed from his cock,
splattering over his chest and stomach. Immersed in his own spent juices,
exhilarated, he laughed hysterically, he had never cum that hard before, and it
was all because of beautiful, wonderful Jaime. Recalling something Jaime had
said earlier in the evening,
“Life can be puzzling sometimes, ya know? Some
things change and some don't.”
Over the years, thankfully Jaime had not changed,
but he knew he was, and he knew he was falling in love with Jaime.
Fuck it,
maybe I am a big ol' fag after all and never knew it.
A whirlwind of
unanswered questions circulated in his head.
What will happen to our
friendship by exposing my new found love for him and what if he rejects me?
Jaime has never once shown any interest in me, other than just friends. Could
he believe I’m in love with him? Hell, this is all too much for me; I wake up
in the middle of the night and decide I’m gay and in love with my best friend?
Even I don’t believe this. These feelings are too real. I’ve never felt like
this towards a woman, let alone a man. How can I possibly convince Jaime that I
love him? Maybe I’ve loved him for years but never allowed myself to experience
these thoughts and feelings.
Clutching a pillow tight to his chest,
Will
I be risking our friendship if I tell him the truth? Can I live with myself if
I don’t at least try?

****

Sitting in the
drive of the Duncan home, he heard the pounding of a hammer. Of course he knew
Jaime would be there, his father's truck would be in the shop for at least a
week or more while the mechanic rebuilt the engine. Parker had been more than a
bit dumbfounded when Jaime announced he wanted to have his father's old '57
Ford F-Series pick-up rebuilt. Until the truck was running, Parker would play
chauffeur, he didn't mind it at all, he enjoyed the extra time together. He
only hoped what he had to say to Jaime would not dissolve their friendship; he
had to get this off his chest. Today. Now. Stewing all day over how and what he
would say to Jaime, he had rehearsed the conversation relentlessly in his head.
Selecting just the right words, the most poignant phrasing, figuring where to
place the inflection of his voice to drive his point home, he was probably
developing an ulcer, if he didn't already have one. Jaime had to know, he owed
that to his friend, even at the cost of loosing his best friend in the entire
world.

Extending his
leg beyond the open police cruiser door, he froze, he could not do this,
he
could not risk the chance of loosing his best friend.
Suddenly, he heard the voice of his grandfather,
“Step up, be a man. Be a
man.”
Pinching his eyes closed, he drew a deep breath, held it for a few
seconds, before releasing.
You're a cop.
Maybe that was the only way he
could do this without losing his nerve, think and act like a cop.
You're a
cop.
Moving with renewed determination and purpose, he headed toward the
open front door, as if he were about to confront a perp or make an arrest.
You're
a cop.
Body upright and rigid, alert to his surroundings, arms to his side,
ready to draw his weapon if need be. Parker was in stealth police mode.
Stepping cautiously inside the door, he scanned the area for any potential
danger. No sign of anyone, at least in the living room.
You're a cop.
Closing the door, he propped a nearby chair under the doorknob, blocking the
exit, deterring potential suspects from escaping or anyone from entering.
Moving toward the kitchen in the direction of the hammering, he silently
stalked his prey like a lissome leopard. Approaching the doorway, he pressed
his back firmly against the wall; there was no backup if there was trouble, knowing
he would have to be cautious. Guardedly peering around the door frame he
spotted his target, a single male, and his back to Parker, this would give him
an advantage over his adversary, the element of surprise. Leaping into action,
a heavy cloud of dust filled the air as he threw his arm around the perp's
neck, knocking the hammer from the perp's hand and then pulled the perp's arm
behind his back, rendering him helpless. Retrieving handcuffs from his belt, he
cuffed one of the perp's wrists. Forcing the perp into a dinning chair, he
cuffed the other wrist, securely pinning both the perp’s hands behind the
chair.

“What the
fuck?” Jaime gasp, expelling dust from his lungs. “Let me go. Have you gone
fuckin' crazy?”

Something came
over Parker, as if waking from a dream; he likened it to an out of body
experience. Amidst a dense dusty cloud, he recognized a pleading handcuffed
Jaime begging to be released and a deranged, confused cop.
What in the hell
have I done?
Regaining his senses,
this was not supposed to happen like
this.
In disbelief, he had apparently gone into cop mode,
way to go
ass-hole, you've fuckin' ruined everything.
Pacing the floor in silence,
frantically rubbing his palms over the thickening stubble rising on his rugged
chin. Panic stricken, he literally had no idea how everything had gotten so out
of control.