Date: Sat, 10 Aug 2013 19:47:54 +0700
From: Robert Glass <robxglass@gmail.com>
Subject: The Virgin Joseph part 3

All right reserved. Any unauthorized use is prohibited. This is a
fiction. Any resemblance to people and/or events is coincidental. If
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PART 3


"Joseph!" Sam shouted from his window. He saw Joe opening the door to his
building. "I'm coming over."

"Sure. I'll buzz you in."

It had been a month since he met Sam, the guy previously known as the
pervert who harassed Joe multiple times. But since his balls received Joe's
punishment, he did not dare to lay a finger on Joe.  But that doesn't mean
that Sam stopped spewing flirts and charm. Even after they had become good
friends Sam was still trying hard. And Joe couldn't even see it. He
couldn't see the meaning behind the incessant visits Sam made to his
place. He couldn't see how the conversations Sam made were actually to
reveal the actual Joe. Worse, Joe sort of enjoyed it. He actually enjoyed
the company.

"So how did it go with the man-whore of the week yesterday, Gingerboy?
Derek, was it?" Joe took the bottles and cans from Sam's hands to put them
in its eventually designated places. Sam had brought yet another assortment
of alcoholic beverages. There were whiskey, tequila and, of course, packs
of beer this time. Jeez, Sam hadn't even finished the last ones he brought.

"Be nice, Joe. We've been seeing each other for two weeks now. And would
you please stop with the nickname. I'm not that gingery."

Joe moved to the couch to join his friend, handing a can of beer to
him. "How come you haven't introduced him to me yet?" Joe felt quite
curious on what kind of guys that Sam liked to date. Sam seemed to have no
type. So far Sam had mentioned his unending affection towards Idris Elba,
Jesse Tyler Ferguson, and the cute and slightly pudgy waiter in the pizza
parlor next to their favorite diner.  Oh, and Joe.

"Two weeks, Joe. I see you more often than him during that period."

"So start dating him more often. Duh." Joe rearranged himself on the couch,
shifting to a more comfortable lotus position. "What is he like?"

"Well, he's tall, taller than me. His ass was..."

"You went from his height to his ass. Seriously?"

"What can I say, I'm an ass man."

"You're an ass. Besides I asked you how he's like, not how he looks like."
Joe turned on the TV and turned the volume down. It was only for ambiance;
only the white noise and the dim light. It shows a rerun of an old sitcom
Joe had never watched, not that he was going to this time around. And not
that he would care what was on. As long as it wasn't news, Joe would be
just fine.

"Well, he's, um..." Sam paused. A little too long.

"Thought so. You're just fuck buddies." Joe had a smug look on his face and
Sam somehow wanted to wipe it off, preferably by means of kissing. "Where
do you man-whores meet each other anyway?"

"Where did you get the idea that I'm a man-whore?" Sam put his can on the
table; he turned his posture to face Joe.

"Let's see... two days after I said no to you for the last time, you
already slept with someone else."

"Hey, I got needs. You weren't providing them."

"As if." Joe's eyes rolled violently. It amused Sam enough to elicit a
heart-melting laughter that Joe was immune of. "How come you never
introduced me to him?" he continued.

"You sound like my mom," Sam said. Joe smacked him in the face with a
pillow. "How about you, then? Met anyone?" He tried to shift the focus.

Joe was slightly annoyed by that question, bothered, even. How important
was it to be in a relationship, or dating, or having sex? He surely felt
the desire to, but it wasn't such an urgent thing to him. Instead of
ranting with all that crap, he just uttered, "Nope."

"You, sir, need sex." Sam chuckled.

"Why does everybody say that?"

"Because it's true."

Joe wanted to roll his eyes but couldn't; he ran out of it. Instead he
looked at Sam, trying to see something that wasn't there. His eyes stopped
at Sam's neck. Stopping at the eyes was too intense and stopping at the
lips was practically asking for a kiss. So he just stopped at the neck,
because nothing strange can come up from looking at a guy's neck. If ever,
it gave him a disguise; it looked as though Joe was slightly looking down,
trying to form a sentence.

And he was trying to form a sentence. His mind was reeling, considering the
possibility of actually talking about something deeper with the man next to
him. Deeper than European cars and smartphones and hot dudes and trivial
facts. Joe wanted to open up a little and start to have conversations about
feelings and shit. But he stopped himself every time. What they had was
already much too comfortable to spoil by feelings and shit. It was merely a
guy to guy friendship.  That simple. Joe didn't want it to turn awkward;
and he wasn't entirely certain if he trusted Sam either. Trust was not a
thing to be simply given away.

"Actually, I have a crush. But he's straight." Joe almost hated himself
right after he said it. Instead of sympathizing, Sam laughed at Joe's
confession. It wasn't clear if it was because of the comedic value or Sam
just wanted to annoy Joe. "Why did I even invite you in?"

"Hey, don't leave. I'm sorry. I was just kidding." Sam said still
laughing. Sensitivity was not Sam's strongest suit. Joe seemed pissed off
though.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Joe said throwing his head back in frustration. Joe
stood up from the couch to move to his room. "I'm gonna go change." With
that information, Sam felt a sense of relief. He relaxed a bit and lied
down on the couch, having the space open.

"How does he look like?" Sam asked.

"What?"

"That guy you had a crush on. How does he look like?" He said sitting up
again just to make himself clearer.

"Seriously? That's what you ask first?"

Sam took a glance in Joe's direction. He didn't close the door while he was
changing. It was totally atypical for a man as self-conscious about his
body as Joe. Sam couldn't take his eyes off. Joe's back was facing the door
so he wasn't aware that a blatant voyeurism occurred in the living room.

"Well, he's white. He's tall, around 6'1" or 6'2"," Joe peeled the jacket
off of his back. "Really light brown or very dark blond, I can't tell," he
paused to take the t-shirt off his head. "His eyes are this very, very
distracting bluish, greenish color," Joe struggled with his belt buckle,
mumbling curses as he went on. "He's quite muscular; he told me he used to
play football, the American variant," the buckle finally obeyed. "I saw him
in his underwear once. Let me tell you, God loves him. Back and front," and
off with the jeans. Most of Joe skin was exposed for Sam to enjoy. The
description Joe provided saturated Sam's imagination even further. Joe
turned slightly towards his closet to get his shirt. Sam panicked and lie
back down on the couch, pretended he did not see anything. He took a pillow
and laid it on his mid-section. Joe stripping tickled his libido. The
commentary on a man's physique catalyzed the stimulation process.

Joe appeared in his usual night attire, loose tees and a pair of
boxers. "Get up!"

"No."

"Alright. I'll just sit on you." Joe challenged, assuming his position.

"You're welcome to sit on my face."

Joe jumped, feeling appalled by Sam's advance. "You are fucking
disgusting!"

Sam laughed again, his teeth were bright, and his eyes twinkled. Joe gave
up and sat down on the coffee table.

"So, what is he like?" Sam inquired, turning calm and serious, while
preserving the smile on his face.  That interrogation was mostly a way for
him to know what kind of guy that caught Joe's attention.  Maybe he could
learn from it.

"He's a great guy. I mean he's honest. But not offensively honest, you
know? He knows how to be honest with me. I mean, I guess, he's
patient. Like, he can handle all the ugly words that comes out of my mouth
with laughter. And he cares about me... well, he cares about everyone. But
still..." Joe took a deep breath silently, hoping he wouldn't stumble on
his words, any longer. "We became good friends instantly. I feel so
comfortable around him. He has this, I don't know, soothing quality, even
when he wasn't trying. Also, he trusts me. And I trust him." Joe was all
starry eyed. He was smiling, slightly flustered, even, when the
inconvenient truth was unveiled.

It made Sam glad to see Joe smiled that way. Innocent and in awe. A bummer
though that he was not the reason why. Sighs. And Sam caught himself being
cheesy. "You realize that you are being extremely cheesy, right?" Sam
commented instead.

"Ugh! Why did I even?!"

"Hey, I'm just kidding." Sam guffawed.

"When will you ever be serious in your life?" Joe protested.

"You sound like my mother again."

Joe took the first object he could find and threw it to Sam and it was the
beer can. And there was beer in it. Sam's shirt got wet, not to mention
smelly. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Joe bolted to the kitchen to get paper
towels.

"No, that's okay."

"I don't know why you always dismiss my violence towards you." Joe rushed
back. "And I'm always violent around you."

"You kind of were." Sam let Joe dapped his shirt, drinking the feeling of
Joe's close proximity to him.  The guilt in Joe's face sends guilt back to
Sam. "But to your defense, I kind of like to push your button. It's
understandable if you get impatient at times. You could say it was my
fault." Why did he even say that?

"It kind of was." Never grasping the subtexts of things, Joseph merely
chuckled. Reflexively, Sam ruffled Joe's hair. Why did he even do that?

"Maybe I have something a size too big." He suddenly handed mark the rest
of the paper towel and rushed to his room.

"No, you don't have to. I'll just go shirtless. It's warm anyway." Sam
removed his t-shirt. Partly because he wanted to show off, to impress
Joe. But from what he heard about the guy Joe had crush on, he was most
likely fell short. Sure, Sam was in good shape; he hit the gym every once
in a while, keeping up with cardio while half-heartedly trying to bulk
up. But he wasn't "quite muscular." His arm and chest looked good
enough. His stomach was rigid but not chiseled. But not "quite muscular."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It'll be dry by midnight."

"Okay, if you say so." Joe went back to the living room, sitting next to
Sam.

"Anyway, let's get back to the subject again. You like a straight guy." The
wet shirt was draped over the couch's backrest.

"Yeah. It's kind of stupid, huh?" Joe was defeated. He had one before and
it was terrible. Now he was doing it again.

"You can't help it. Truth be told, I had my own share of crushes over
straight boys."

"How did you get over it?"

"Sex." Sam chuckled. "And finding a good gay man. Someone worth pursuing."

"Easier said than done." He slumped, sinking deeper into his seat. Slowly
but surely darkness veiled his face. Desperation left trails in his
eyes. Oh, Joseph, why so gloomy?

"How come you never introduced me to him?" Sam said mocking what Joe said
earlier to him. And trying to lighten the mood.

"Actually, you saw him. At the bar. He was the one sitting next to me
before you hit on me."

"The guy who wanted to kick my ass?" Joe nodded his confirmation. "Well, to
your defense, he's hot. I'd fuck him if he was gay." Sam continued.

"That's all you think about. Sex."

"What's a guy to do?"

"Maybe I have to remind you that he was a linebacker. So if it ever crossed
your mind to harass him sexually, then there you go." Joe warned.

"You have a knack in making bad things worse."

Like most nights, they talked and joked the whole night. Most of their
subjects still fell back to typical boys stuff. Gay boys, that is. It
ranged from sports to cars to hot men. Joe was big on soccer, not so much
on football, basketball and baseball as Sam did. While Sam loved talking
about muscle cars, trucks and engines, Joe prefers to discuss European
cars, every day, run-of-the-mill cars, and car design. Joe liked rugged,
buffed, bad ass but normal nice guys. Sam talked about spectacular looking,
perfectly bred, chiseled and polished male model types. Or awkward
geeks. That's a turn on.

They could not have been more different. But they could manage not only to
maintain but also to develop conversations. They get each other's
jokes. They didn't mind the digs and stabs from one another. And Sam fell
deeper in love with Joseph and wanted to have a relationship with him,
something that wasn't what Sam looked for. And Joe was completely unaware
of it. They kept talking to each other until 1 in the morning. Joe was
sleepy, and he saw that Sam was sleepy as well.  He offered Sam to stay,
and sleep on the sofa. It was Sam's first of many nights of sleeping at
Joe's couch.


***


"They're not coming." Tom sighed looking at his phone. Apparently Alice
texted him their cancelation. "They're probably having sex." Knowing Alice
and Nick as good as Tom does, it was probably true.

"We're halfway done anyway," Joe said.

"More than halfway," she replied.

"You don't have much stuff at all, Amy."

"I suppose. Well, I move a lot. I don't see the point of having too much
rubbish." She added. She was rummaging through a box of kitchen
utensils. That was her other passion, cooking. Although unlike singing, she
had no intension in pursuing it. She just loved to cook.

They were helping Amy move to a new apartment. Her previous place was
closer to the previous club she had gigs at. Now that she moved to a new
club she had to move; it was at the other side of the city. All the boxes
were in. All the bigger furniture was already in place. It was just the
matter of unboxing the right boxes so she could actually live.

"Why don't we take a lunch break?" Amy suggested. She was going to cook
something. All the ingredients she needed were already inside the fridge;
she bought it the day before.

"What's on the menu?" Tom enthusiastically said.

"I can whip out baked potato. It won't take long."

"Sounds great."

Both Joe and Tom sat at the dining table while Amy preparing the meal. Joe
looked around at the apartment. It was a single bedroom, just like his. But
it was much better than his. The building was well maintained. It was
bright and it didn't smell. Most of it was white, the walls, the doors, the
window frames, even the floor was pale hued hardwood floor. Which was great
since Amy's furniture were mostly white too.

And then he looked at his two companions. One was busy chopping scallions
and unfreezing chili con carne, the other was busy with either facebook,
twitter, tumblr, instagram, google+, path, or basically everything Joe
wasn't registered at. For a moment a realization of a fact seeped into his
brain. "We're all single," he said. "We're the only single ones at our
office."

The other two stopped at their tracks, slowly looking at him. Both trying
to dispute the sullen statement. "No, Paul is single too," said Tom. Paul
is one of the two bosses, the other is Lucy.

"No, Paul has a girlfriend. My God, you're right!" Amy said slightly
panicked.

"Relax," Tom said. "It's no big deal."

"Yeah, you're still 26." Joe said. "The average age for women when they
first get married is 27." He turned to Tom. "And 29 for men."

"I only have a year!" Amy whined.

"I'm 29." Tom said. Now he's the one who was panicked.

"Almost half of marriage ends with divorce." Joe said, as if it gave any
comfort.

"Here's a statistic. Almost all of the things that come out of your mouth
are bad news." Amy said, returning to her cooking. Tom playfully pushed
Joe's head.

"How do you know these stuff anyway?" Tom asked.

"I don't know. I just know."

Finally everything was ready. The boys helped setting the table while Amy
removed the apron from her petite torso. Somehow the Tom and Amy were still
dwelling in the gloomy thought of endless loneliness and jeopardized
commitments. Joseph on the other hand was always gloomy. That topic didn't
budge him a bit.

"Guys, it doesn't matter. 27 and 29 are the average age. It's not like you
can't get married after.  You're still young, for Christ's sakes." Joe
said. He couldn't believe the desperations in the two.

"Easy for you to say, you have a backup." Amy said. She took a big chunk of
spud from the plate and ate it.

"What backup?"

She spat out said spud, it was still hot. "Sam." Said with an attitude,
even with burnt tongue.

"Sam?" Joe repeated, perplexed. "Seriously?"

Tom jumped in. "That Sam again?" He asked. "I'm telling you, he's
trouble. Sooner or later he'll molest you again."

Slowly Joe turned his head towards the big guy, leaving his fork down at
his plate, never had the chance even to get a quick taste. The diction
irritated him the most. 'Molest' was such a graceless word. "He didn't try
to molest me, Tom. He was just trying to get some ass."

"Your ass. Without your consent. Hence, molesting you." Tom challenged.

"No he didn't," he said, trying his best to remain calm. "You're making
things up."

"No, you actually said that."

"I didn't. I said that he and I made out, almost having sex, and then I
said no, and then he left. That's all. He may seem a little creepy at first
but he's okay." Joe laughed lightly but it was forced. He just wanted Tom
to drop it. He lightly put his hand on Tom's wrist, he wasn't sure
why. "He's not all that bad, Tom."

"But..."

"Tom, cut it out," Amy said. "Let's just eat. If I wanted to watch two
people bickering at each other I can just watch Judge Judy."

Tom just shrugged and said, "Okay." Clearly not satisfied with how the
conversation ended.

Joe gave Amy a slight smile that expresses his gratitude. Amy just nodded
secretively. She knew that Joe was at the edge of his limit. If it
continued Joe would probably have burst out in flame and berate Tom in two
languages.

This protective side of him was one of the reasons Joe fell for Tom. He may
have only mentioned a short number of Tom's trait that he liked to Sam, but
there was a lot more. He was funny and kind and sensitive and caring
and... well, the list goes on. The more Joe knew him, the more he liked
him.  And they were so close. So close that Joe just wanted to step over
the line and take Tom as his. But he was straight. Why are all the good men
either straight or a brother?

Or both, really. In many ways Tom reminded Joe of Justin. Although Tom
can't replace Justin, Tom was clearly trying to. What's up with this guy?
What's with his tendency to be the ever-sheltering older brother to
everyone? Especially with Joe.  It is so. Freaking. Frustrating. So
freaking frustrating to have the very guy you like treat you no more than a
brother. Okay, Tom was straight. But even if he was gay Joe had no chance
at all. He was brother-zoned.

It was simply Joe's Freudian fate.

"Sam is the only gay friend I have, you know?" Joe tried to explain. Maybe
this time Tom could understand. "I know you're going to say that Jake has a
lot of gay friends, or Amy has a lot of gay friends. Well yeah, basically
you can make friends anywhere, with anyone. But I don't make friends
easily, remember? You both know that. And if I happen to make a good one,
I'll keep him. Sam is a great guy, Tom. I promise. I know you'll like him
if you know him better."

Sounded defensive, yes, but he felt like he had to do it.  It burnt his
ears to hear a good friend of his being bad-mouthed, by another good
friend. Yeah, Sam was no longer a stranger; he was a more- than-good
friend. He had unexpectedly become a big part in Joe's everyday life;
turning from that creep that scared the shit out of Joe to the guy who
hangs out at Joe's apartment as long as he doesn't smoke. And it's good for
Joe. It gave him a slightly larger social life. 'Slightly' because every
time Sam tried to hook Joe up, he declined; insisting that he wasn't
looking for any kind of complication while starting a new job. And Sam
respected that, eventually, considering how insistent he was at making Joe
'answer that pent up sexual calling.' Yes, Sam did say that. Word per word.
Verbatim. But Sam, ultimately, is a friend.

And who knows? Maybe Joe would fall for Sam and the dreadfully dull
fairytale romance would all come true.

"You're not dating him, right?" Tom asked. His mouth was still processing
the food when he looked at Joe square in the eyes. Analyzing and
calculating. It was the kind of look Justin used to give Joe when he wanted
to find out if Joe was being honest. Joe looked back in all seriousness.

"No, I'm not. Oh my God, Tom," he laughed. Tom laughed. Amy too. That broke
the tension.

Tom then reached the other shoulder and pulled Joe into a side hug, his
hand made a mess of Joe's hair. Seriously, who does that? As far as Joe
learnt, guy's friendship didn't go that way. It should be more chest bumpy
and fist pumpy right? Not side-huggy and hair ruffley. Oh well, it felt
nice anyway.  Pointless with a dash of painful impossibility. But nice.

"There you go. Brothers shouldn't fight."

"Yes, we know, mom." Joe said sarcastically. And both he and Tom laughed
while Amy sighed and shook his head. All tensions lost. Good.

Pleased by the new atmosphere, Amy started a conversation. "Now can we
please focus on my single-ness?"

___

PART THREEEEE. I want to thank everyone who had emailed me with kind words
and encouragement and of course proofread. It is immensely useful for this
humble novice. And for those who are wondering: there will be no sex scene
for a long time. So keep hanging on, please, I beg you, please please
pretty please.

As usual, hit me up by email (robxglass@gmail.com) or you can visit my
tumblr: manlyneeds.tumblr.com

Cheers.