Date: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 21:45:57 +0700
From: Robert Glass <robxglass@gmail.com>
Subject: The Virgin Joseph part 8

All right reserved. Any unauthorized use is prohibited. This is a
fiction. Any resemblance to people and/or events is coincidental. If
reading this deemed illegal to you, I implore you to stop. If it offends
you, please do not read on.

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PART 8


Okay, Thanksgiving. Joe had to brace himself for the upcoming onslaught of
strangers and a barrage of small talks. There was also a chance of him
being trapped in a dining room while the onslaught of strangers showers him
with a barrage of small talks. Why did he agree on this?

Tom's house was empty. He explained to Joe that everyone must be next door,
at the Dawsons. They were the ones who got custody of Tom and his siblings
after both his parents died. Tom's mom died when he was fifteen from lung
cancer caused by his dad's smoking habit. His dad died four years later
from heart attack caused by the same smoking habit and unhealthy diet. That
was the reason why Tom or any of his siblings didn't smoke. Being close
friends that they were, his dad wrote in his will for Dawsons to be the
ones who would take care of his kids. Unsurprising since they all, the
Dawsons and the Donnelly's, were like one big family. Somehow in Joe's
mind, he found similarities between Tom's family history and Sam's.

Joe learned all this from the man himself, right after Joe came out to Tom,
two weeks into his employment. Tom said, at that time, that he didn't want
Joe to be the only one to share painful memories. Truthfully, Joe didn't
fully expose how painful coming out was for him. He only told Tom that his
family was still wrapping their heads around it, except for Justin and
Norah who had no problem with it whatsoever. It was not the whole story.

"Hurry up!" Tom urged from downstairs. Joe was still in Tom's bedroom,
settling his things.

"Coming!" Joe followed Tom from afar, he had to catch up. Tom seemed to be
very excited about this. Joe was less so. Still he had to hurry; his big
friend was waiting for him at the back door, all smiling and happy.

"Are you nervous?" Tom asked.

"Yes."

"Don't worry, they'll like you. They like everyone."

"It's not about whether they'll like me or not." Joe muttered.

"What is it then?"

"I hate people, remember?" Joe said candidly, giving Tom a reason to laugh.

"You'll love them, I promise."

Tom reached across Joe's width, grabbed a shoulder and pulled Joe in into a
side hug. Joe was still slumping his walk, contrasting Tom's
cheerfulness. Tom pretty much dragged him through the connecting fence door
between houses, to the Dawsons' back door. There were a number of things
that Joe would prefer to do. Sleeping, for instance; the three hour drive
from downtown Chicago destroyed his butt. Plus, it's already dark. Perfect,
right?

"I'm home." Tom announced right after he opened the door, as though it was
his own home.

Needless to say, there was a cheer erupting from within. Someone yank the
door open; it was one of the Dawsons, Joe guessed. A middle aged woman
pulled the large guy into a bear hug. Behind her, three other women, Joe's
age, were waiting for their turn. Amid the festivity, Joe disappeared
mentally while physically merging himself with the unlit outdoors. He'd
rather be invisible than to greet them all. No such luck.

"Guys, this is Joseph Becker, my friend from the office," Tom said. After a
wave from Joe and a collective 'Hi Joseph' from the house, Tom introduced
the house one by one to Joe. "Joe, this is Meryl the mother, that's Mandy
the daughter, Emma the girlfriend of... someone who is not here, Anna the
gay one, and that's Steve, the father who is struggling with the frying
pan." Joe craned his neck to see Steve smiling politely and waving at him.

"Where's Gary?" Tom asked.

"We send him to watch TV. He's no good here," Emma, the girlfriend,
said. Then she shouted loudly, "Garry! Tom's here."

"Come on, let's get inside," Amanda said, as she escorted Joe in. He didn't
even realize that he was still outside the threshold while Tom already
nibbled the platter of salad.

"Mandy, he's gay. Your moves won't work," Tom said to Amanda. She seemed to
hate it, either the nickname or the remark, or both.

"I'm not making moves," she spat back. Tom gave her an evil smile.

A commotion started from deep within the house. A few seconds later a man
jumped onto Tom, like a boy who would cling to his army father that came
home for Christmas.

"Joseph, this is Garry. Garry, Joseph." Tom said, not forcing his actual
little brother off him.

Garry eventually untangled himself and stood in front of Joe and offered
his hand. He said hi but Joe just gave him a forced smile. He didn't look
much like Tom, nor did Anna. But damn, weren't the Donnelly kids
gorgeous. Garry was even more so than Tom. He was taller, his eyes were
bluer, and his hair was lighter. He was also slimmer, not bulky like
Tom. Joe liked it. Another day, another straight boy to lust after. Cut it
out, Joe!


***


The fact that Joe was an outsider didn't actually matter. This family was
as warm as it could be. The kind that makes you jealous you didn't have one
but also makes you happy that there was one. By the way, why did everyone
around him have to be so attractive? Even Steve and Meryl were beautiful
and deceivingly young for people in their sixties. Meryl was retired
surgeon and Steve was her retired favorite surgical nurse. The stress of
the job was supposed to age them, not keep them younger.

They all, minus the parents, were lounging in Tom's living room. The girls,
all Joe's age, seemed to be best friends; not the kind you'd find in high
school cliques, they were an actual one. All were also hilarious that Joe
laughed loudly around them. Mandy was shameless, Emma was animated, while
Anna was awkward. Joe clicked with Anna quickly, being similar in many
ways: awkward, short, gay, and being Tom's younger sibling. He was quite
surprised by how he got along with these girls easily.  He wondered why he
did not have a girl best friend before Amy. He knew, really; it was because
he was too closeted to actually have one.

Unlike Joe who could run at the girls' pace, Garry didn't manage to keep up
with their jokes.  Probably because he was in med school, trying to get his
Master's degree; his brain had no more energy to keep up. He only laughed
once or twice; either he faked it, or the talk was slow enough for him to
comprehend. Tom? He just sat back and enjoyed the interaction. He loved his
family.

Strange how, despite being with his family which he hadn't seen together
since earlier that year, Tom could only focus on Joe. He was concerned at
how Joe would react to his family. He understood that Joe was a solitary
person, needing only less than five people around him to survive his whole
life. A crowd was a threat to Joe. Even in office parties Joe stood alone
in the corner, sometimes with Amy or him. Good thing Joe gelled well with
Tom's family. However, although knowing that his concern was no longer
needed, Tom couldn't stop focusing on Joe. After Garry and the girls went
out to hunt for dive bars, Tom was still fixated.

"Stop staring!" Joe said.

"I'm not staring at you." He said defensively, not that Joe would catch
that. "I was looking at your phone. New?" Tom asked.

"Yes. I've been using Sam's for a while, waiting for this one."

"I see." Tom calculated his next words. What could he say wrong anyway?
They were good friends.  "Do you like him?"

"What? No!" It sounded too defensive to be believable. That, sure Tome
could catch.

"Really?"

Joe didn't look up from his phone. He was browsing tech news. Ever since he
started his quest for a new phone, he got hooked by the wonderful world of
gadgetry. Now, the wonderful world could not distract him from Tom's
probing. "When I was sick last month, I... I started to feel a little
differently about him. I can't tell what it was. Maybe it was only
gratitude. Maybe I was just happy that he cared. I don't know."

"He still likes you," Tom said, dropping the bomb.

"Impossible."

"He got off work to take care of you. Couldn't be more obvious, Joe." Tom
snickered, conveying delight, actually feeling something entirely
different.

In turn Joe gave Tom a deathly glare, closed his eyes, and sighed. He
locked his phone and put it back to his pocket. "I hate it when you're
right," he muttered.

"Why don't you go out with him? Maybe that feeling you were having meant
something."

"I can't. We are friends. Besides, I'm not even sure about that stupid
feeling. What if it doesn't mean anything? I can't give him hopes and then
kick him out, again. I can't be that asshole... again. I have to be sure."

It surprised Tom how Joe suddenly ranted. The struggle had been dwelling
inside Joe for quite some time, Tom thought. Poor boy, didn't know the
first thing about his heart. But who was Tom to say that? He was all the
same. "Relax. Don't rush into it. Take it easy and take your time." It was
lame, and more than slightly irrelevant, but it was all Tom could say.

"I can't take any more time. I'm 25 and a virgin, AND lonely. I haven't had
anything for twenty five fucking years, Tom. I'm lonely, so lonely that I
fall for every single guy that's nice to me. Yet, they are all impossible;
they're all straight. You, Jake. Why can't I feel it to Sam? That would be
much, much easier for me. Why can't it be that easy?"

Tom was looking intently at Joe, a little surprised that Joe was opening
up. It was something rare, somehow precious and important.

"I'm not a complex person. You read me easily, Sam does too. But why on
this godforsaken earth is this so hard to figure out." Seemingly finished
his rant, Joe dropped his tense stance and fall to his side of the couch,
away from Tom. Tom stretched his arm to hold Joe's wrist, the man pulled
away. It hurt Tom, somehow.

"And why aren't you gay, Tom? If you were, I could just ask you. I mean, we
already like each other, and I used to have a crush on you. If you said no
then it's heartbreak for me, which is better than this. Things would be
clear. You don't like me as much and I would move on. Now, nothing is
clear. I can't even tell what I'm feeling towards Sam. He's a perfectly
nice guy who likes me and he's good to me. Why don't I like him? Why?" Joe
almost shouted. He always kept this kind of emotion to himself but this
time he blew a gasket, and he wasn't happy about it. Tom could tell; he
always could.

"I don't know if this will help, you probably will hate me for this, but
maybe you should try to get out and find a date. Go with Jake, he will
gladly show you around."

Joe glared sharply at Tom before softening. "Maybe I will," Joe
said. "Maybe I will not." He shook his head. The vision of getting out
there, letting himself exposed, looked at, rated and ultimately rejected
terrified him.

"I guess I didn't help, huh?"

"No, you did. You listened. Thanks for that." Joe sighed again. "Sorry for
my sudden bitching."

"Anytime, Joe. I'm always here."

Tom couldn't get those words Joe said out of his mind. 'Why aren't you gay,
Tom?' Well, why aren't you, Tom?


***


"I have to admit that it was great." Joe answered Tom's question regarding
the dinner. A day ago Joe was contemplative and angry about his life and
loneliness. Today he was chirpier. Sleep did him good. "I can get used to
this. Amy's good at cooking. Sam is. You too."

"You're a leech." Tom said chuckling. They were washing the dishes. The
other guys were already drinking which Tom saw as unqualified for this
task. Tom could wait, the dishes were more urgent.

"I'm having a good time too. Your family is great."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Tom replied. "You didn't have to wash these with
me though."

"I'm the only other person here who's sober." Joe smiled.

"Thanks." Tom said, reciprocating the smile.

Once they were finished they joined the others in the living room. It would
be perfect if there was a fireplace, but they were fine as they were, with
a radiator and a television. Anna, Garry and Emma were getting further away
from sobriety while Joe and Tom just sat there and enjoy the hilarity that
entailed. Anna and Emma were best friends. They usually deliver deadpan
style of humor. That night they couldn't keep it together. They giggled
every three minutes or so. Garry was a dork, as usual.

It was quite late in the evening and Tom was pretty tired by all the stuff
he had been doing that day.  He said his good night and Joe followed
suit. Tom crashed into the bed soon after he opened his door. He was more
than just 'pretty tired', apparently. He turned, now facing sideways, only
to see that Joe was already changing. Joe was in his briefs, crouching in
front of his bag, clawing around to find clean sleeping attire, shivering,
and cursing his stupidity for not finding them first before undressing.

Tom stopped functioning, he didn't even blink. For some reason he was
immobilized. He snapped out of it when Joe already wore his long johns. "I
need to go to the bathroom," he said. He left without even letting Joe give
his comeback.

Closing the bathroom door, he leaned to it, closing his eyes and taking
deep breaths.

"What is this?" Tom murmured. He walked to the mirror. He closed his eyes
again, like he was afraid of his own reflection. He didn't fully understand
his feeling; his feeling for Joe. He knew he cared deeply about that guy,
but then again he cared about everyone. This feeling, though, was
different.  Why did it bother him seeing Joe naked? He was reminded about
the moment in the changing room after the last soccer game. He had to force
himself from looking at Joe. He had no problem looking at other men, but
Joe was different. Funny how Tom was having the same thing now the way Joe
had felt the night before: not understanding his own feeling. Feelings are
stupid. Maybe people are stupid, feelings are just mischievous.

He returned to his bedroom in his underwear after calming himself down up
there in his head. He hoped he wasn't looking too swollen down there; it
might give Joe the wrong idea. He wasn't exactly sure what idea it was.

Joe was snugly covered in blanket and Tom joined him. Being this close to
Joe got him nervous; last night too, but not as bad as tonight. "Have you
called your brother?" Tom asked, trying to distract Joe, also himself. Now
Joe had no chance to criticize him for being in the bathroom for too long.

The last time he asked that question was after Joe's birthday. "No," Joe
said plainly.

"Will you ever?"

"I don't know. I don't think so," Joe said. "I've turned him into a
crutch. I have to stand on my own, I guess."

Now Tom felt awful. He knew that Joe never really wanted to be
participating in that particular discussion. Tom knew Joe hated it when he
ended up lecturing him about family values and the importance of one's
brother. Joe already knew how important Justin was to him. Still, what Joe
did was his own choice, for his own good, and he was going to stick with
it, and Tom knew it.

"Okay." Tom dropped it.

"He joined the navy, you know?" Joe said. "After he graduated high school,
I moved to Bali and he joined the navy. He took the college program there,
civil engineering. He encouraged me to study architecture, I chose
industrial design; one of the worst decisions in my life." Joe smiled. "He
stayed for four years and only got stationed in Washington as a clerk. He
had a minor heart attack once when he was doing his drill. We found out he
got this heart condition, a genetic thing. It will stay with him
forever. He got discharged. It broke his heart." Joe chuckled by the bad
pun. "So he moved to Bali to accompany me, or simply to get fresh
air. Understandable, I guess.

"I don't really remember Thanksgiving before Bali. I didn't go home for
Thanksgiving either; it happens in the middle of school semesters. I didn't
go home for Christmas or New Year. I only go home once a year during the
summer break. Soon as I got into middle school, Justin arrived in Bali and
my mother left. He and I started our own tradition. Just the two of us, no
family, no turkey, nothing. We'd go to other cities in Indonesia over the
weekend, exploring, sight-seeing, eating. I loved it. So, yeah, family
dinner is just something foreign for me."

"I see," Tom said, finally. Seeing Joe getting somber, Tom didn't want him
to push too hard. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want
to."

"I knew you would say that," Joe said. He took a deep breath, the next
thing he was going to reveal felt very heavy. Looking at Tom didn't ease
his hesitation. "I came out to my family in a family dinner two years ago,
not long after I returned here. Not at thanksgiving, though, just a regular
family dinner. Justin of course knew long before, and he was aware that I
wanted to come out that day. He didn't want me to, but he supported me
anyway. So we went to our parents' house and everyone was there: my father,
my mother, my oldest brother and his wife, Justin and Norah, and my sister
with her husband. Thank god the children weren't there because it didn't go
well at all."

"Oh." No other sound came out of Tom. Joe just smiled a painfully bitter
smile at Tom.

"My father and mother took me to his den and they started to berate me with
words like 'abomination', 'perversion'... everything, really. They also
read me some bible verses and prayed, but mostly it was just them shouting
at me. I didn't pay attention; I was listening to Justin fighting with the
others outside the door. I snapped though when my parents said they want to
get me into a conversion therapy. I started to fight them, hard. I was
probably screaming at them for ten minutes before my father slapped me,
hard. I punched him, hard, he fell on the floor. I then stormed out.
Everyone else was quiet. I just walked out, Justin and Norah followed me."

Tom was already sitting up. The story was harrowing to hear. It was mind
boggling how Joe wasn't the least bit emotional. "I'm so sorry," he said,
reaching for Joe's wrist. Joe pulled away. Now Tom felt much guiltier for
bringing the subject up because he wanted the attention away from him.

"I shouldn't have punched him. I should've kept my cool and be the bigger
man, but I failed. That's the only thing that I'm sorry about," Joe said as
he smiled. "Our drive home was funny, though.  Justin was driving and
crying hysterically, Norah too, next to him. I didn't cry at all. I was too
angry to cry. So I took the wheel and I drove them home. Imagine me,
freshly disowned, driving a car while trying my best to calm my brother and
his girlfriend down, while angry. It was an accident waiting to happen."
Joe chuckled. How was it funny??

Tom shifted, unsure. He looked at Joe who seemed frail despite showing
composure. It was one of the first times Joe let his vulnerable side slip
out. Usually he was guarded with his sarcasm and oftentimes coldness. Now
he exposed himself, despite being cold. "Sit up," Tom requested, or more
like ordered. Joe gave him a questioning look. "Just do it."

"Okay," Joe said annoyed, his bed was already warm and most of all he was
ready to die in misery in that position.

Tom opened his arms, gesturing a welcome for a hug. "Come on, bring it in."

"What? No!" Joe objected. This was an awkward situation in the making and
Joe avoided it like, well, alcohol and cigarettes.  "Not unless you wear
something." He tried to joke again. He lost his mojo that night.

"Come on! You're not turned on by me," Tom insisted. Inside, he was
convincing himself that he wasn't turned on. There was a more pressing
matter, however. Joe needed to be held. He rejected touch yesterday and
earlier; Tom was determined that it wasn't going to happen again that
night.

"Okay, okay." Joe had to receive it or it will get more awkward. So they
hugged, completely man-to- man crisscross arm kind of hug, with Joe keeping
a few inches between them. Tom pulled him closer, he wanted to real-hug
Joe. Joe had no choice but to comply.

"I don't do this a lot with men." Tom said.

"Oh really? We danced on my birthday pretty much in this position. It was
like prom."

"I was drunk." Tom chuckled.

Their hug lasted too long but neither minded. "Thanks," Joe honestly
said. He actually felt better after.

Tom let go of Joe. "Sorry. I didn't know what to say to make you feel
better. I did this out of panic, really."

"Really thoughtful of you," Joe said sarcastically. Both of them
laughed. That was a good sign, the usual Joe was back. Or was it a bad
sign? "Just don't mention this to anyone. I don't want to ruin my street
cred," Joe said saying what he thought some men would. Both laughed
again. "You actually remind me of Justin. When he can't give me any good
advice, he just take me to the beach, or a ride around town, or, yeah, a
hug."

"Is it good or bad?"

"Of course it's great!"

"Good." Tom smiled again.

Joe returned to his casket, disappointed that the warmth had
dissipated. Cold beds in such weather were the worst! Then again, death had
to be cold, right? "You really are just like my brother, Tom. I know I said
you were my crush. Now, I think you're becoming my crutch. Just like
Justin. Soon I'll leave Chicago and find a new life in a new city." Joe
snickered; bitterly, as expected.

"I'm not your crutch. Justin wasn't," Tom assured him.

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

"Shut up and get to sleep."

They proceeded their trial to get some sleep; actual sleep this time
around. Joe was calmer, he could fall asleep faster. Tom was less so. He
was worried about Joe. In six months Joe had become a friend, a brother
even, and probably more. Tom basically cared about everyone around
him. This was Joe, however, and Joe was... different from the other. The
boy had just spat out two heart-wrenching confessions consecutively in two
nights. He draped one arm across Joe's chest, out of protective
instinct. The least Tom could do. He fell asleep that way.

___

It's been too long. I know Thanksgiving is still half a month away but here
you are; a Thanksgiving chapter. Special shout out to my editor, the
wonderful Arleen. Her husband, Steve, is recovering quickly and is now
awake and well. He will be back on his feet in no time at all! She (and I)
would like to thank you all for the prayers and positive vibes you sent.
Also for the wonderful messages that you sent. Thank you so much.

Some people are concerned about how Joe is treating Sam. All I have to say
is I am just as concerned. Anyway, send your concerns for Sam to me. The
email is robxglass@gmail.com and the tumblr is manlyneeds.tumblr.com. See
you around guys (and gals), I hope I can submit chapter 9 sooner. Cheers!