25. Ozrik #2
“I was fifteen. And no, my sexuality didn’t play a role in my decision, but I won’t lie and say it wasn’t a comfort to choose to forever suppress that part of me.
I struggled to accept myself. Still do sometimes.
Joining the church meant I would never have to shine a light on it or acknowledge it openly to anyone. ”
“Are you ashamed to be gay?”
Gale pressed his lips together, then slowly shook his head. “No, but I don’t do well with confrontation, and to be openly gay is to invite unending conflict into your life. I’m not sure I can handle it. People knowing. Endless judgment.”
“It’s not that bad. You don’t have to wear a sign. You can be out with friends and family without broadcasting your sexuality to strangers. You don’t have to march in parades or wave a flag. You can be quietly out.”
“I wish it was that easy.”
It is, I wanted to say, but I got the sense Gale didn’t agree, and I didn’t want to encourage an argument.
“What happened at the seminary?”
Gale sighed. “Matthew happened.”
When he didn’t go on, I playfully poked his ribs. “Do I need to hunt down Matthew and beat him up?”
Gale softly laughed. “No. It’s in the past.” Then he continued his story. “I kept to myself mostly. I’d never learned to make friends, so I studied, prayed, went to service, and did my pastoral work like a good seminarian. I liked it.
“Then I met Matthew. He had many friends and was part of the popular crowd. When he randomly started talking to me one day, I was confused… and leery. He would find me in the library or sign up for the same rotation of chores in the morning. We ended up doing the same apostolic work one month, and I knew it wasn’t coincidental.
I enjoyed his company and our conversations.
No one had ever paid much attention to me before, so it was new.
Fresh. Invigorating. We liked the same books, and he seemed genuinely interested in me as a person.
For the first time in my life, I caught a vibe that Matthew was hiding the same secret. ”
“But?”
“But if his friends were around, he pretended I didn’t exist.”
“I would have thought devout, God-loving people wouldn’t segregate.”
“You’re talking about eighteen- and nineteen-year-old boys. They haven’t changed much from high school, but they have learned to be subtler with their abuse.”
“So, Matthew had a thing for you.”
“Yes. I never told him I was gay. I have no idea how he figured me out, but—”
I snorted, interrupting his story.
“What?”
“You have a vibe, Gale. I’m not saying this to freak you out, but I sensed you were gay in the bathroom at CineVision.”
“How?”
“The way you looked at me. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I bet half the people here suspect you’re gay, and I also bet it was the crux of the abuse you endured in high school.”
Gale grew still. “It was. I always denied it. I always tried to act like the other boys, but it made no difference. I was called the f-word more times than I could count, and I don’t mean fuck.”
“It’s so weird to hear you swear, but I knew what you meant. I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Kids are cruel.”
“Adults aren’t any better.”
I shuffled closer, resting a hand on his hip. “Let me guess. Matthew got under your skin. You were attracted to him. He got you to reveal your secret, then threw it in your face. He outed you.”
“Sort of. The attraction went both ways. He was gay, not pretending. His fear was as great as mine. Things between us progressed beyond friendship. It was incredibly sinful and inappropriate considering where we were and the choices we’d made about our future, but…”
“It sounds kind of hot to me. Now I need all the details.” I hoped joking around didn’t backfire.
Gale huffed a quiet laugh. “Don’t be crude. It amounted to two minor make-out sessions behind the church. All kissing. Clothing on. No touching below the belt.”
“Cassocks? Clerical collars? I need a visual. Why is this so kinky?”
Gale laughed and punched my arm. “You’re going straight to hell.”
“I wasn’t the one making out with a future priest behind the church. Tell me more.”
“I hate you.” The smile in his voice negated the claim. “I’m telling a serious story with an unhappy ending, and you’re turning it into a scandal.”
“Hey now. Two seminarians getting down and dirty behind the church is scandalous.”
“We didn’t get down and dirty, and the fun ended when we got caught the second time.”
I deflated. “Damn.”
“Matthew freaked out. Before rumors could spread, he spread his own, saying I came onto him. I forced him. That I pinned him to the wall and kissed him against his will. That it was unexpected and unwanted. That he shoved me away.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? He made it into assault?”
“Yes. It spun out of control from there.
The whispers started. The rumors spread.
The taunts and name-calling were unbearable.
Funnily enough, his vile accusations were never brought to the school authorities.
I was never approached or disciplined in that regard. They would have probably kicked me out.
“Regardless, I was outed and ostracized. Ridiculed. Teased, bullied, shamed. All the above. I was a child molesting priest in the making. It was worse than what I’d endured in high school.
Crueler in tone. They called me a sinner.
Quoted Bible verses at me. I was an abomination.
They made me question my faith and ruined my relationship with God.
They took from me the only peace I’d found since I was ten years old. ”
“Jesus, Gale. So you left?”
“I left. What else could I do? I spent the rest of the year at home, but I couldn’t stay. My dad knew something was wrong, and I was terrified he would figure it out, so I enrolled at the University of Oklahoma the following year and tried to forget. I never told anyone why I left.”
“Until me?”
“Until you.”
I didn’t have to ask why I got the privilege of hearing the story. It seemed clear. Confessing would mean admitting he was gay, and he wasn’t ready to do that. His questions and accusations made sense now. Gale was terrified of the past repeating itself.
“I’m not like Matthew.”
“I know. You’re comfortable with yourself. I can see that. I…”
“Needed to hear me say it?”
He nodded.
I shuffled closer, eliminating the inches between us, and rested our foreheads together.
“Then hear me. I’m. Not. Like. Matthew. Not only am I comfortable with my sexuality, but I fully respect your discomfort.
I will never out you, Gale. Your truth is yours to share or not share. Do you believe me?”
“I do. So…” He shyly laughed. “For the record, my fumbling make-out session behind the church with Matthew is the only experience I have with men.”
“Nothing wrong with that. The question is… do you want more experience?”
“Yes.” The word came out without hesitation.
“Where do you want this night to go? There is no right or wrong answer, and you won’t upset me if you go back to your room and nothing happens.”
“I’m nervous, but… I don’t want to leave.”
“One step at a time. We do as much or as little as you want, but I need to know you’ll communicate and stop me if it’s too much.”
“I will.”
“Can I touch you?”
“You already are.”
Smiling, I brushed our lips together. “Smart-ass. Can I kiss you?”
“I was hoping you would.”
As I joined our mouths, I slid my hand around his waist, sneaking it under his shirt and connecting with warm, bare skin. He shivered. I urged him closer, nipping his bottom lip and dancing my tongue along its seam.
Receptive, Gale opened with more confidence than the first few times. I went slow, despite every impulse to get him naked, ravish him, make him squirm, and show him a good time.
I didn’t want Gale floundering to keep up or regretting the encounter. If this was to be his first time, it should be memorable.
It took a minute before he actively participated beyond kissing. Since I wore nothing more than boxer briefs, I suspected my near-nakedness was intimidating. When his fingers brushed my chest, I broke the kiss.
For as close as we were, it was hard to read the expression in his eyes. I took his wrist and encouraged him to flatten his palm and feel me properly. I guided his hand over a pec and lower to my abdomen.
Gale held my gaze, lips parted, breathing unevenly.
“Want to feel what you do to me?”
His eyes grew wide, but he didn’t answer.
I moved his hand lower—staying on top of underwear—and pressed it against my erection.
A burst of air passed his lips.
Groaning, I rocked my hips and encouraged him to close his fingers around my cock. “That’s it. Fuck yeah. That’s all you, Gale. Squeeze a little.” I grunted. “There you go.”
I kissed him again and let go of his wrist, expecting him to withdraw. He didn’t and actively continued fondling me on his own. Every passing second increased his confidence and my pleasure.
I wanted to touch him in return, but feared rushing.
The kiss turned sloppy and uncoordinated.
With blood roaring in my ears, I delved deeper into his mouth and lapped at his tongue. Our teeth clashed more than once. When Gale boldly cupped my balls, I groaned, and he smiled into the kiss.
“Good?” he asked.
“So good.”
I explored under his shirt, traced his ribs, brushed his nipples, and lingered near the waistband of his sleep pants, wanting desperately to do to him what he was doing to me.
When I snuck two fingers below the elastic, his hand on my cock stilled.
“Should I stop?” I asked.
He shook his head, but his stomach muscles tensed and spasmed.
I inched under the waistband, and Gale sucked in a breath when my fingers came in contact with the hard flesh of his erection.
“Wait. Wait.” He exhaled a puff of air. “Shoot. S-shit.”