Work Text:
SHAKEN!
By J. S. Mikiels
Patterson awoke and looked around the roomâ€"Ski's room. In the bed beside him, Ski lay sleeping peacefully. He watched as Ski's bare chest expanded and contracted; his eyes traveled down to Ski's crotch. Occasionally, his manhood twitched, as if he were about to get an erection.
Suddenly, he felt a small throb between his own buttocks. Then, the events of the night before crashed in on him. My God! We had sex last night!
Yeah, he's the brother I never had; in a way, a mentor, as well. We've been best friends a little over seven years; we've shared this apartment for over five.
Patterson breathed deeply and blew it out. Vainly, he tried to still his racing thoughts. Ten months ago, my hand touched his when I was handing him aâ€"a crimper? A pair of pliers? Our hands have brushed against each other's a million times before. What was so different about that time? Whatever it was, I haven't been the same since.
Then, I started to have sex dreams. In one dream I remember most, I was kissing a girl. Then, the next thing I knew, I was having sex with Ski.
I thought the feelings would go away, but they only got worse! Sometimes, I thought of telling Ski so he would just beat the shit out of me and maybe I'd get over the notion. But I couldn't bear the thought of his hatred and contempt.
Many times, Ski and Pat had referred to men as being "like that". The inflection left little doubt as to how it had been meantâ€"with utter contempt for the one spoken of.
Over the years, they had both had their share of women. I never did feel comfortable around women, Pat thought. It was just a way to get my rocks off. It was justâ€". The word eluded him for a moment, then flashed through his mind with all the shock of what it might possibly mean. Expected.
Was I always "like that", but couldn't bring myself to admit it? Pat discarded the thought. No! I've never had any feelings for any man but Ski. That much, I do know!
Pat had to relieve himself. He got up to go to the bathroom, deliberately looking away from the small mirror above Ski's chest of drawers and the large wall mirror in front of the lavatory in the bathroom. He relieved himself, then stood staring at the wall.
What does this all mean? I know best friends sometimes fall in love with each other, but the best friend is usually a member of the opposite sex.
I've never had the urge to dress like a woman or to be a woman. I've never wanted another man to kiss me or hold meâ€"orâ€"let another man penetrate me. Or swallow his load and have him swallow mine. Many men considered that to be the ultimate act of degradation or decadence.
But Ski had been more than glad to let me penetrate him, too, Pat remembered. And he wanted to taste me, too. Neither of us wanted to degrade the other.
We both wanted it! It felt great!
Pat refused to look up as he finally crossed the room and washed his hands. He lathered them again, wishing he could wash away thisâ€"unsettlementâ€"for want of a better word.
Was it right to do what we did? I know it was all I dreamed about for a while, but to actually do it? That's another matter.
What happens when we go out in public? Will everybody be able to look and tell what we're doing? What we've become? What about when we go back to Seaview? Most of the guys wouldn't hurt someone who was a homosexual, but they wouldn't want him around. One or two would beat them up, or worse!
The sepulchral voices of all the preachers he had heard in his youth ran though his mind. Am I cast away from God now? Does this mean I can never pray to Him anymore? Tears began to burn in his eyes.
"Morning, buddy," said a sleepy, familiar voice.
Patterson jumped and whirled around, splattering soap and water. A pair of dark brown eyes, a trace of impishness in them, met his. "You scared me!" Pat exclaimed.
Kowalski smiled, holding a towel out to him. "I heard you get up. When you didn't come back to bed in a minute or two, I thought something might be wrong."
Without looking up at the bathroom mirror, Patterson turned back to the sink and rinsed his hands, then turned toward Ski and took the towel Ski had offered him. "No. I just had to pee," he hedged.
Kowalski leaned toward him, brushing his cheek with his lips. Then, Ski's slightly open lips lightly contacted his own for a moment. Instinctively, Patterson kissed him back, a tiny shiver of excitement going through him. Then, Kowalski walked back into the bedroom.
It doesn't feel bad or wrong. As a matter of fact, last night was the first time I really felt connected. Before last night, sex was just thatâ€"having sex. Last night with Ski wasâ€"wasâ€"making love! Real love! The kind you want to last a lifetime. I've never felt like that before.
Ski said last night there was no going back for him; that a relationship with me was what he expected. If he thinks it's all right, too, then it can't be wrong. Ski attends Mass and says his rosary regularly; he even persuaded me to become a Catholic. I was always religious, but I was raised a Lutheran. Pat shook his head. Goes to show I've always followed Ski anywhere.
Patterson turned around, his eyes on the lavatory. Slowly, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. I look the same, he noted, feeling something akin to surprise. What did he expect to see? Horns growing out the top of a misshapen head? A grotesque face? The word, HOMOSEXUAL, branded across his forehead in some kind of scary script? None of those things were there.
Patterson stared into the clear blue eyes that were reflected back at him. Suddenly, the unsettled feeling was gone. I'm still me! he realized. I love Ski; I always have. It's just taken a little different turn than what I expected.
Turning on the faucet, Patterson splashed his face with cold water and dried it. Then, he went back to the bedroom that they had shared last nightâ€"the bedroom they would share from now onâ€"and laid down beside Ski.
END