Date: Fri, 8 May 1998 18:26:08 -1000
From: John Clark <janc55@hgea.org>
Subject: jocksucker ch 4

Chapter 4

	"Tadescu, what the hell you doing!?"
	Ion jumped up from the practice mat.  "Coach?"  He scanned the room
for the source of the voice.
	"Wrong again, Romanian rugrat!"
	The laughing face of Dennis Wu popped up from behind the pommel
horse.
	"Denny, you are an asiatic shithead!"
	"I can relate to 'asiatic', although I prefer the term
'Chinese-American'.  But what was that other technical term you used?"
	"Shithead!  Shit-for-brains!  Shitass!  You sounded just like
Mr. Hall.  You scared me!"
	"Yeah, my repertoire of coaches' voices gets better every day,
doesn't it?"
	"Beast."  Ion grabbed up his sweatshirt from the parallel bar where
he'd thrown it.
	"All that as it may be, what the hell were you doing?"
	"Practicing my floor routine, obviously."
	"Bullshit.  You can't fool me.  I've seen your floor routine.  Your
floor routine is a thing of beauty.  What you were just doing was a thing
of beastly.  So to speak.  Man, I'm telling you, don't go up on the rings
if you're that far out of it today.  You're gonna fall down, go boom."
	"It was not that bad.  Was it?"  Ion peered up shyly at his taller
friend and teammate.
	"Yes.  Seriously.  You were a thousand miles away.  Something
wrong?"
	"No.  I am just finding it difficult to concentrate today."
	"Uh, uh.  You've been like this for a week, buddy."
	Ion looked away.  Slowly his chin fell to his chest.  He watched
his toes wiggle, scratched his thigh.  Said nothing.
	"Come on, sit down, man."  The larger athlete led the way to the
bleachers, sat, and beckoned the other to join him.  The two men were alone
in the cavernous fieldhouse. Each had come in to catch some extra practice.
They had the building to themselves until the next class period.
	"You remember when you transferred in last spring?  Coach asked me
to show you around 'cause you didn't know anybody?  Or anything, I figured,
as soon as I heard your funny bohunk accent.  Fresh off the boat.  You
remember what was the first thing I said to you?"
	"Of course.  You told me that you were gay.  You said that you just
wanted to get that settled at the beginning."
	"'Right off the bat,' is what I said.  But you got the idea.  And
what was the first thing you said to me?"
	"I don't remember."
	"Yeah, you do.  You remember.  You said 'So what?'  It was probably
the only American slang you knew, back then.  'So what.'  The way you said
it, too.  I really knew you didn't give a damn if I suck cocks.  I dunno.
Maybe coming from Europe you don't know how rare that attitude is over
here.  Or at least you didn't back then."  Wu's broad face broke into a
grin.  "And then you looked me up and down like you were getting ready to
buy a horse.  I remember I didn't have my top on, just my workout shorts.
And you said something about how could such a strong man be gay, weren't
gay men sissies?"
	"I am sorry, still.  I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
	"Hey!  You didn't!  Don't you remember, I almost busted a gut
laughing.  Man, you were so green.  Anyway, I knew we were gonna be friends
if you wanted to have a friend.  And I was right, huh?"
	"Yes."  Ion smiled.  "You went out of your way to put me at ease.
And to show me everything I would need to know about the school and the
gymnastics program, and the town and, well, everything, I guess.  And you
did not try to assault me sexually.  You said I was not your type.  And you
have never given me reason to doubt your words."  He fell silent for a
moment.  "If I may be permitted to quote myself, 'So what?'"
	   "Okay.  So I'll quote myself, too.  Make it real clear.  You are
not my type, Ion Tadescu.  Got that?"  The muscular, oriental youth was
completely sober now.  He faced his friend, eye to eye, nearly chest to
chest.
	"You have made that plain enough before.  Why do you tell me
again?"
	"So you won't misunderstand me when I say I love you.  Because I do
love you.  You're the best friend I've ever had.  I feel like you're some
kind of combination of friend and brother."  He paused, in thought.  " I'm
tryin' to say I'm here to listen.  'Cause I know there's something wrong,
little guy."  Wu's hands grasped Ion's upper arms, willing his sincerity to
come through in his touch as well as his words and his piercing gaze.
	Ion met that gaze, his own troubled.  Then he slowly fell forward
the inches needed for his face to rest against Wu's chest.  He sighed
softly, relaxed.  Ion's hands came up to rest lightly on either side of the
other man's torso. He could feel the easy play of the latisimus muscles
under the thin shirt as Wu breathed.
	"Thank you, Denny.  I need a friend."
	Dennis raised one hand, cupping it around Ion's curly head, holding
him to his chest.  He felt a shudder go through the wiry frame in his arms.
And felt dampness seeping through his shirt.  He lifted Ion's chin and saw
the tears quietly trickling from the sky blue eyes.
	"God, little brother.  Is it that bad?" he asked, softly.
	Ion pulled himself up straight, steeled his expression, stared into
Wu's concerned eyes.  "Denny, I am now also a cocksucker."
	Color fled Wu's sallow face, turning it a mottled flaxen hue.  "Oh,
Jesus, Ion.  Not AIDS?!?"
	"NO!  Oh, no, Denny, no!  No, it is not anything like that.  Look
at you!  Dammit, I have given you a scare and you have given me nothing but
kindness.  Please forgive me - I am selfish and foolish."
	Wu sucked in a deep breath, whooshed it out.  "No, man.  Not to
worry.  Just a momentary heart attack.  I'll be fine in a week or two."  He
snorted in infectious laughter. "Hey, okay, then.  Anything else we can
work with, buddy.  What is the trouble then, if it isn't a health thing?"
	Tadescu thought a moment.  "Denny, you have told me that I am not
your type.  But you have not told me what your type is.  Can you tell me
that or should I not ask?"
	"Yeah, I guess you can ask.  I think you're trying to change the
subject, but okay.  What's my type..."  He thought.  "Funny, you know,
people always say somebody's not their type, but most of the time they
don't really have a type.  Not just one type, I mean.  It's more like that
one particular person just doesn't happen to turn you on, you know what I
mean?  The spark isn't there for whatever reason.  That's what I meant when
I said it to you.  And it isn't any criticism or anything.  It's just,
there is a spark or there isn't.  Is this making any sense to you?"
	Ion nodded.  "Yes.  I think so.  You don't really have a physical
type of man who always and invariably turns you on, as you have put it?"
	"I wouldn't go that far.  Yeah, maybe.  I guess it's fair to say I
get weak in the knees when I see a tall guy with a greyhound build - slim,
but muscular.  And hung, of course."  Wu laughed.  "But sometimes I've been
turned on by short, stocky guys.  Go figure.  Not much help, is it," he
said ruefully.  "So how's this relate to what's happenin' in your little
corner of the world?"
	"I am new at this, so I am not absolutely sure, but I think I have
a type.  And my type has only one man in it.  I have seen this man and at
once felt as you said.  Weak in the knees.  And with a flutter in my
stomach that is not at all comfortable."
	"Yeah.  Oh, yeah.  I sure know what you mean.  So you saw this man,
and then what happened?"
	"Nothing for a long time.  I did not know what I was feeling, only
that I felt something strong.  And then one day last spring I went into a
certain restroom..."
	"Social science building?  Second floor?"
	"Yes!  How did you know?  No.  Never mind.  Of course it is famous.
That is why I went there.  To be honest I went there many times.  But I
never did anything but wash my hands and hope.  Then one day when I entered
the room I saw that he was seated on one of the toilets.  His trousers were
below his knees.  He wore a red tank top, and, I guess, some kind of
shoes."  Ion laughed, color rising in pink clouds over his high cheekbones.
	 "I don't remember looking much below his calves, which were huge!
But in fact I really saw little other than his sexual parts.  Oh Denny, he
is so big!  I did not stop to think or reason with myself or argue myself
out of taking action.  I think I was on what you would call 'autopilot'.  I
just went into his stall and fell onto my knees.  I saw my hand reach out
and grasp his penis and pull it toward my mouth.  It was the only thing in
the world for me to do at that moment.  I remember the feel of it in my
hand, and on my lips.  And the taste, too.  He had urinated, and there was
a little drop left.  Salty and completely strange.  I was lost in a fog of
strangeness.  Not thinking, you understand?  Only feeling and acting.
Never had I done such a thing."  Ion fell silent, remembering.
	"Okay.  I get the picture.  No need to go into details, unless you
want to."
	"All right.  Yes.  I guess it is sufficient to say that I pleased
him.  Two times."
	"You're shitting me!"
	"No.  And then someone came into the restroom, and I fled
instantly.  It is fortunate that it was nearly the end of the semester.  In
fact it was the week of final exams.  I had little time to think back on
the episode.  And yet I believe I did little else but think on it.  When I
had finished exams I went back to my uncle's home in Georgia for the
summer.  There I worked as hard as I could, not only to please my uncle,
but to forget.  Or rather to learn how to remember perfectly, but without
wanting.  Do you know what I mean?  Without yearning."
	"So?  What's wrong with yearning?  You had a good time, and
obviously he did, too.  Why not yearn?  And plan for the future?"
	Tedescu's face fell.  "Denny, he is a straight man.  Not gay.  For
him it was a pleasant experience.  A 'hauling of the ashes'.  Not something
to repeat." Ion sighed deeply.
	"Yup.  That's a problem, all right.  So, over the summer you
figured out how to compartmentalize it.  Enjoy the memory, but get over the
ache.  Right?"
	"Yes.  Exactly.  I returned to school three weeks ago in pretty
good shape, I think.  Ready to put all my energy into gymnastics.  You
know, it is the source of my tuition funding - an athletic scholarship
which I was lucky enough to acquire."
	"Whoa.  'Scuse me.  Time out, here.  This school was lucky enough
to 'acquire' you, bub.  You were already famous in Romania before your
uncle got you out of there.  And you've already got a couple of product
endorsements.  As well as being the absolute number one draft choice for
the next Olympic team.  Just want to set the record straight.  You are one
very modest fellow, young Ion.  Okay.  End of interruption.  So, you got
back feelin' pretty okay, but now you don't.  So, go on with the story."
	"I lied to myself.  I was not all over with the ache or the
yearning.  As soon as I arrived on campus I returned immediately to the
same restroom.  And there was a miracle.  The man had left a message for me
taped to the wall of the same stall.  He did not know my name, but he
addressed the message with an endearment which he had used during our
passion, so I knew that it was meant for me.  He told me of an experience,
a sexual experience, he had had during the summer.  He wrote that he wished
he had shared the experience with me instead of that other person.  And he
said he would like to see me, to continue where we left off.  He knew that
I knew who he was, and he told me to call him if I was interested."
	"You called, of course."
	"I became erect as I read his message.  The same fog of unthinking
flooded over me.  I went to my dormitory room and called him, right in
front of my roommate.  Oh, I spoke circumspectly, but without shame.  I
told him I would meet him whenever he wished.  I think I begged him to meet
me that same night.  He agreed.  I have been seeing him regularly since
then.  Our sexual activity is sublime.  But I do not dare to let him know
that I have any interest beyond what is simply physical.  I desire him so
much that I think I will go crazy, and I can not tell him.  Unless I wish
never to see him again."  The silent tears began again.
	"So.  You're in love.  Unrequited love.  I get it, now.  That's one
of the worst pains there is, all right.  Shit, man."  Wu pulled Ion back
into a firm embrace, trying to pump his empathy into the shaking youth.
	"Wait a minute. Let me think, here.  You said you've been seeing
him 'regularly'.  What do you mean by regularly?  Now I do want some
details.  How often?  How long?  What do you do?"
	"I get on my knees and take him in my mouth and..."
	"Yeah, yeah - oral stuff.  I got that.  What else?"
	"I, er, I lick the sweat from his body."
	"Hey, right on!  And then?"
	"Is that not enough?"  Ion looked bewildered.
	"Damn right, it's enough.  It's fine.  Some folks never get that
much.  But I'm trying to get the whole picture."  Denny stared at the
floor, eyes flicking back and forth as he pondered.  "You lick the sweat -
for that he's gotta have his clothes off.  Yeah?  He's got his clothes
off?"
	"Yes.  Surely.  I do not pull his penis out from a tiny slit in his
trousers to service him.  Of course he has his clothes off."
	"Okay!  What about you.  You naked, too?"
	"No.  I have not presumed to take my clothes off.  Nor has he asked
me to.  Why should he?  What is my body to him?  I told you he is straight,
and not interested in such things.  He wishes only for the comfort my mouth
can give him."
	"Man, I'm not so sure about that.  Next question: does he do
anything oral to you?  Suck, lick, kiss, anything?"
	"No!  Of course not!"
	"Of course not...  Hmmm.  Okay, that's what you do.  When?  How
often?"
	"Since the semester started, nearly every evening.  And on the
weekends, sometimes we spend the day together.  He runs every day, and I
have been invited to run with him.  Which I do, of course.  I would do
anything to spend time with him.  Yet every minute is nearly as painful as
it is pleasurable."
	"Wait a minute!  Wait a minute!  You run with him?  I saw you goin'
by a couple of days ago, jogging with Dak Rollins.  I meant to ask you how
you happened to know the great man himself, but I forgot about it.  You
aren't telling me you're sucking off the Heismann Trophy?!?"  Wu's face
showed his amazement.
	"No," Ion said, soberly.  "That would be silly.  I am sucking off
the man who will win the Heismann Trophy.  That is considerably more
rewarding."  Both men broke up in laughter.
	"Hey, all right.  If you can still laugh, you ain't dead yet."
	Tadescu sighed again, lighter this time.  "I guess you're right.
Hmmph!  Only you would consider having sex with a trophy."  He glared
reprovingly at the Asian man.  Then broke into chuckles again.
	"Listen, Ion.  I wanna think about this some more.  But just for
starters, I'm thinking that a man who sees another man almost every day for
purposes of sexual activity, and bloody well takes off all his clothes to
do it, ain't all that 100% straight!  I'm thinking maybe the guy is either
using you to get his rocks off, in which case he's a total prick. Or... "
	"Or?"
	"Or, I'm not sure.  Searching for himself, maybe.  Trying to find
out where he's at.  And doing it with somebody who he likes.  Maybe a lot."
	"Denny, do you think that's possible?  Really?"  Dawning hope
brightened Ion's pale countenance.  "I am afraid to let myself believe it."
	"Look, you're hurting already, so what've you got to lose by
hoping?"
	"Yes... I guess so.  How much more can I hurt?"
	"And, here's a thought.  The next time you're with Dak, take your
shirt off.  You probably been wearing your sweats, right?"  Ion nodded.
"Uh, huh.  Thought so.  Listen, feller, you have a perfect physique.  No,
don't argue.  You've been a gymnast since you got out of the cradle.  Let
the guy see what you got.  Even if it doesn't help your situation, it sure
as hell can't hurt it.  And you're gonna be a whole lot more comfortable
while you're doin', uh, what you're doin'."
	"Doing him."  Ion grinned.
	"Damn right!  By the way, is there any truth to the rumor he's hung
like a horse?"
	"No."
	"Oh, hey, sorry man.  I shouldn't have asked."  Wu blushed.
	"You can ask me anything, Denny.  I only meant that horses aren't
as big."
	"Romanian ratfuck!"  Wu roared with laughter and lunged at Tadescu.
	"Asiatic shithead!"  Ion dodged, and swiped back at his friend.