Get Into James Shorts - 44. The Second Time Around

the Second Time Around

1978

I first met Randy when I was sixteen, and he was fifteen. I met him at Frank's house- a guy from my football team that I screwed around with from time to time. He enticed me to come over by telling me about a cute kid from his neighborhood that wanted to join in.

Randy was a shy kid. He wasn't big, athletic or a jock. He was cute and a lot more feminine than most of the guys I previously messed around with. What caught my attention was his bright, intelligent blue eyes.

Frank treated him like a hooker. He grabbed Randy by his hair, shoved his cock in his mouth and started f**king his face and saying, "You like that don't you little bitch."

I was appalled and said, "Dude, be cool."

Frank was enjoying being rough and looked at me like I was nuts. "Don't tell me you're soft on this little faggit?"

Randy got off Frank's cock (which was not that long a trip) and said, "It's cool. I wouldn't let him do it like that if we hadn't known each other since diapers."

Even at 16 I had seen some humiliating shit and treating people that way was a real turn off, so I left the room. A few minutes later after Frank got his 2-minute nut, he joined me on the back porch for a smoke.

I asked, "Where's Randy?"

"He didn't think that you liked him, so he left."

Shaking my head I said, "It's not that. I just don't like seeing people treated that way."

"I don't get you man. You're one of the roughest guys I know, but you are so different with your clothes off."

I grinned at him and said, "Better or worse?"

"Better I guess."

"Look man, I need to go. I'll see you later."

Frank just laughed and said, "Randy's house is up towards Castle Hills."

I drove my Grand Prix up the road to Castle Hills and I approached him from behind. He was tall and skinny wearing white tennis shorts, a crimson Alabama t-shirt and flip-flops.

I drove up beside him and said, "Hey!"

He jumped. He wasn't expecting me and gave me a wild eyed expression.

I said, "You want to ride around?"

He smiled, opened the passenger side door and got in. "Where you want to go?"

I said, "Sometimes it ain't the destination, it's the ride."

I drove to a nearby wooded lake and parked.

He looked at me and said, "I didn't think you liked me back at Frank's."

"That's not it. It was the way Frank treated you. I didn't care for it. Do you want to smoke a joint?"

Randy grinned and looked at me.

I pulled out a joint and lit it. Feeling a little self-conscious, I said, "What?"

Randy said, "You're not at all what I expected."

I took a drag and passed it. "What did you expect?"

"Another one of Frank's half-wit jock f**k-buddies who wants a blow job."

"I like blow jobs."

Randy took a drag and coughed. "Well, who doesn't. I mean there's more to you than that."

I took the joint and said, "Thanks."

Randy said, "For the joint?"

I let my hit out and said, "No. Thanks for noticing. I have to be this ass kicking jock redneck to... I don't know. Survive? Fit in? Mostly to keep people from f**king with me. That's what I have to be. What I am, inside, where it matters, they can't have it. That's for me and the people I chose to share it with."

Randy took the joint. I noticed he was looking a little stoned. He said something incredible. Something deep that I had longed to hear. He said, "I understand" and I believed him.

I said, "So, would you like to see more of the real me?"

He smiled and said, "I believe that I would."

I got out of the car and pulled a blanket out of the trunk. We walked to a sunny clearing in the woods where I made love to Randy, gently and with respect. Afterwards, we just lay there naked in the afternoon sun and talked for hours.

I found out quickly being Randy's boyfriend would just not work. A hood, stoner, thug like me and a preppy like Randy came from entirely different worlds. His mother would never accept me. My parents would never accept an effeminate guy being around me. However, over the next three years, we shared those worlds occasionally until life happened and took us in different directions.

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2010

I had not seen or heard from Randy in years when he "friend requested" me a few months ago on Facebook.

Things started slow. We had both been down a lot of dark and lonely roads. Randy's long-time mate David and my Jeff had both died of AIDS in 1996. We had both survived more than thrived. He's been sober and in AA for three years. I've been clean and sober in NA for five years.

We both know that we're carrying a shitload of baggage and that we're both damaged goods but for some reason that doesn't seem to matter.

Youthful passion and white-hot lust have given way to happy familiarity. We talk more than we have sex which is something new and completely alien for me.

Maybe we have a chance to have something we both missed because of the times and attitudes and culture.

Maybe we have a chance to grow together, heal each other and walk away from the searing pain of our pasts.

Maybe we have a chance to have some good years and not have to walk alone.

I'm damned sure that we're both due for a change for the better.

Who knows? Maybe we'll get it right the second time around.