10,669 : That's How Many Words I have Written So Far
Okay here's the first installment of My NANOWRIMO novel (although at 50,000 words I suppose novella would be more appropriate), I used a cut line because this is an adult fiction. If you don't like reading stories involving sex, please don't look behind the cut. The pairing in this story is a slash or male/male pairing so if this offends you, again do not read. I would love reviews on this and really have to give a big thank you to goddessofsnark also known as smutnazi for the loan of her pairing and the broad plot. If it weren't for her I'd probably still be waiting on my muse to get off her big fat truffle-munching butt and inspire me. Now on to the first installment of my NANO
MONDAY, September 11, 1970
I saw him again today as I walked past the Art Center. Standing with his friends talking about whatever they discuss so enthusiastically. I had to look as I passed, trying to be subtle. Using the corner of my eye to capture each movement, the flip of the long brown waves back out of his face, the way his lips caressed the cigarette he placed between them. The way his broad, strong hands moved as he made some point in his conversation.
As I sat down to study in my room that night, I could still hear the echoes of his laugh in my mind, as it wafted across the Quad to me. So free, so happy; I wanted to join him there, to discover what he found so amusing. What I wouldn’t give to be beside him as he laughs and argues the creative process, to join in with his free and easy way of living, to say to hell with tomorrow. What does the song say ‘let’s live for today and don’t worry bout tomorrow’, but I was late for Microbiology and if I don’t worry about tomorrow, I’ll never survive Med school.
After Micro, I passed through the Quad again and still they stood there, laughing, talking as though they never considered studying or writing a paper. I wish I could be more like him. I wish I could be with him, to have those long fingers touch me: stroking my hair and face as he looked at me with those deep brown eyes. I’ve heard he doesn’t care about the sex of his partners so it wouldn’t be impossible as long as I was discrete.
I can’t afford a scandal, if I want to make it to the top. More than anything, I want to be at the top of my profession and the only way to get there is follow the rules; become the one who makes sure the others follow the rules. I’ve not allowed anything to get in my way yet and I won’t now; but I want him, I want to be with him.
Tomorrow is Tuesday, which means Government and Ethics, he’ll be there, lounging in the back, barely taking a note, and yet he aces the tests and argues with the professor during class discussions as though he already knows all the answers. He really seems to enjoy goading Professor Mulroy out of his normal placid demeanor by bringing up the war. Mulroy isn’t a super patriot, but he does seem to rub the man the wrong way. I’ll sit there trying to concentrate, but just knowing he’s in the room, takes my breath away. It’s time I faced facts, Garret Macy has me enthralled and I’m not even sure he knows I exist.
Time for bed, I have an early class tomorrow and then Government and Ethics at noon. I love Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Tuesday, September 12, 1970
His band played tonight at a bar on Commonwealth Ave. and of course, I went to listen. I sat in the back as usual sipping coffee and watching him play. I love watching him do anything, but when he plays drums he’s unbelievable, all that fire and passion is concentrated on the music. He draws the eye even as he tries to hide in the background, out of the spotlight. I’ve noticed that it’s not just me; others watch him instead of the singer.
Tomorrow all my classes are in the science building, so I won’t see him at all, unless he shows up early for breakfast; something that never happens. I don’t think he gets up before 10AM. I could hang out on the Arts building side of the Quad, but I try not to do that. I know I’m obsessed; I don’t need the world to know it too.
I’ve had a few lovers and a few crushes, but this feels different. I’ve never had anyone take my breath away merely by walking into the same room. The few times I’ve gotten close to him, he’ll smile at me and I walk on air the rest of the day. His smiles are incredible, starting in his eyes then spreading across his face like a sunrise, until he seems lit from within, but sexiest of all is his smirk. His face was made for a smirk, it seems to say ‘I’m me and I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think about it.’
Wednesday, September 13, 1970
I didn’t see him today.
Professor Stanton was in a generous mood, no reading assignment this week and he’s out of town on Friday so there’ll be no class either. It looks like my weekend will be mostly free. Tomorrow is Government and Ethics again; he’ll be there.
Thursday, October 15, 1970
He spoke to me today. He came into Government class grousing about the war and the draft. I was sitting there waiting for class to begin and he sat beside me instead of at the back of the lecture hall and said ‘What do you think, Jack.’ As though we were old friends, he knew my name! I managed to stammer out something about being pre med, which automatically gets me out of the draft.
His eyes took on a speculative look and then the professor came in. I couldn’t believe that he actually took notes this time. Would I sound like a completely gushing teenage girl, if I said that even his handwriting is beautiful?
I just re-read that and I did sound like a gushing teenage girl. I can’t help myself; I’m completely defenseless when it comes to him. He can make my day with just a look, or destroy me.
If he’d give me half a chance, I’d show him love like he’d never known before. That blonde twit he’s dating is all wrong for him. She’ll never understand him; she’s nowhere close to his league. Maggie is just a giggly sorority girl, with no real talent or brains. How can she possibly hold on to him, hold his interest?
I think I understand him; he wants to love to be a challenge and needs a lover who doesn’t cling to him too tightly. A lover who will stand back and let him fly free, something she is incapable of doing. When she’s around him, she pouts unless he pays attention solely to her and he lets her get away with it. I don’t get what he sees in her.
I understand the physical attraction, she very pretty and has a classic cheerleader’s body. She’s probably wild in bed, considering that her walk is an invitation all by its self, but how can he be happy with that. After a while, the physical attraction is bound to fade and he’ll probably be on to his next conquest, that’s when the fireworks will start. She’ll never be able to stand by while he sleeps around; she’s not strong enough or smart enough to understand that he’s the kind of man who can’t sleep with just one person. He’ll never be satisfied with just one lover.
If he were with me, I wouldn’t care who he slept with; I’m not the jealous type. He could screw all of Boston and I wouldn’t care, just to be with him would be enough; to know that when all is said and done, I’d be the one he came back to, but it looks as though he only has flings with other men, not serious relationships
His band has a show tonight at Sam’s; I’ll be there of course as usual. Have to get ready now.
Friday, October 16, 1970 2AM
I’m too up to sleep. He came up to me tonight after the bar closed and talked to me. I was waiting for the bus and he was loading up his drum set. He walked over and asked me if I could help him. His number had come up in the draft and he was going to switch to premed so he could get an exemption. He wanted me to help him catch up with the rest of us so he could still graduate on time. It won’t be easy to do; he’ll have to take almost 40 credit hours in only three semesters. These are some of the hardest courses they offer, but he’s smart and if I help him, he can do it.
So now, I’ll be spending every afternoon and evening with him. I can’t believe it; I asked him why me, and he said I was the smartest person he knew. He thinks I’m smart and he actually paid attention to me.
Tomorrow afternoon is our first study session; I can’t wait.
Friday, October 17, 1970
Today was amazing, sitting across from him all afternoon in the library; watching him through my lashes. He sprawled in the chair, book in hand reading; his eyebrows knitted in concentration, the rest of him relaxed, his hand tapping a rhythm on the top of the book. It was all I could do to read my assignment and form coherent answers to his questions.
I sat drinking in his presence, watching his hand tap to the beat in his head, occasionally reaching up to push a stray lock of hair back out of his eyes, his wide expressive mouth tempting me to lean over and kiss him as he bit his lip. I caught him glancing at me from time to time with a speculative look in his eye as I secretly watched him.
Later we walked to the dining hall together to grab a bite, on the way he told me that his best friend and roommate had been drafted and was off to basic at the end of the semester. He went on about the war and how the President was lying to us. I listened even though I could care less about it; I’m pre med. I won’t have to go and now that he’s switching majors neither will he, so what do I care about a war halfway around the world.
I would never say that to him, he’s so passionate about the anti-war movement, just as he is about everything else. I’ve seen him at the campus rallies, making speeches that, unlike the others, are well reasoned, not just rhetoric and fury. The dean has even asked him to sit on a student/faculty panel to discuss school policy in the wake of the shooting at Kent State in May.
So, we walked across campus, him talking about Cambodia and secret wars in Laos and Air America, me just listening and enjoying finally being with him. Alone like this, I could almost imagine us as a couple, just talking about our day and the shape of the world. If he’d give me a chance, I know I could make him happy.
As we neared the dining hall, Maggie came up behind him and slipped in between us, looping her arm around his waist casually. She asked him to take her to dinner off campus and of course, he agreed.
As they walked away wrapped around each other, I suddenly lost my appetite and came back to my room to study some more.
Monday, October 20, 1970
Amazing news today, Maggie is not going to be here next semester. She’s doing a semester abroad in Italy and Garret asked me if he could room with me so that we could study together more easily. Since my roommate is going to be leaving for California to finish out at UCLA and his is going in the Army, it’s perfect. We just have to decide which dorm we want to live in.
I can’t believe it; I’ll be waking up to him each morning. I think if we’re together everyday with no Maggie to butt in I can get him to see me. I think he already has figured out that I like guys and it doesn’t seem to bother him at all. In fact, he’s taken to teasing me in little ways, like throwing his arm around my shoulder when we walk from the library to the dining hall and constantly bumping my foot with his under the table at meals, then giving me that sly smirk.
Last night when Maggie met us outside the dining hall with yet another demand for dinner off-campus he looked over at me and said ‘You coming, Jack?’ Maggie pouted at first but then he kissed her and said he had to keep up his tutor’s strength or I’d forget to eat and then where would he be.
As we started toward the bus stop, he swung Maggie around and slipped in between us, throwing that arm across my shoulders again. I thought I would melt on the spot from happiness. I was being taken to dinner by Garret. Okay I know, it was dinner with his girlfriend too, but still out to eat with him!
Maggie kept shooting me daggers with her eyes all night except when Garret was looking at her; I think she knows that I want him. I sat there thinking, ‘Enjoy it now, sweetheart, because while you’re off in Europe he’ll be all mine and living in my dorm room to boot.’
Sunday, October 26, 1970
I spent all afternoon with Mother and Father; it would have been a complete waste of time except that, as I was leaving Mother gave me the perfect opening with Garret. She won two tickets to see Miles Davis and she hates any jazz style except some of the big band jazz, so she gave them to me. Garret has talked a lot about music so I know that while he plays rock he also loves jazz. I’ll ask him if he wants to go tomorrow after our study session.
Monday, October 27, 1970
He’s going and I think he’s gone from thinking he knows about me to making the connection. When I asked him if he wanted to go with me, he looked me up and down and said ‘That explains a lot, Jack. Never figured you swung that way, but hey.’
I wanted to run away, to sink through the floor, but he smirked at me and said he had a girlfriend. Then he leaned close and whispered in my ear that he wasn’t adverse to flings. I stammered something about him maybe wanting to change his mind about the roommate thing, but he just shrugged and said he didn’t figure I’d try to take something until he offered it.
I don’t remember walking back to my dorm room, but suddenly I was laying across my bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about him. He was going and he wasn’t freaked that I was attracted to him, he said until he offered, not unless, but until. He wanted to have a fling, okay, I know he only said he wasn’t adverse to a fling, but he’s going!
Tuesday, October 28, 1970
Garret was waiting for me when I came out of Public Speaking this morning! He’d gotten up early to walk across campus just to walk halfway back with me to our Government and Ethics class. He said he was wondering about what time the show was, but he could have met me at the lecture hall and asked me that. I think he wanted to see me, to walk with me for a while.
We decided to grab dinner before the show and then maybe a drink after. God, it’s a date, I think even he thinks so since he said he’d pick me up at 6:00; not meet me, but pick me up.
After class, we walked to the dining hall and sat together eating. He leaned over the table and said ‘so you’re a Davis fan?’ I told him I preferred Armstrong and he said I was okay. Suddenly he leaned over and whispered. ‘You don’t expect anything do you Jack? I mean I can’t say I haven’t noticed, but…’
I told him all I expected was his company at dinner and the concert; he nodded then told me he and the guys in the band had gotten studio time, so he wouldn’t be making our afternoon study session. As he headed out the door, Maggie walked up to him and off they went arms around each other. I was so jealous for a moment until I remembered that he’d be all mine for the next six months.
All her classes were half semester in preparation for her trip to Italy. She would be leaving on Thursday afternoon to visit her parents until her flight out in mid November. She wouldn’t be back until May, by then if things went my way, Garret would be breaking up with her to be with me.
Saturday, November 1, 1970
Garret moved into my room yesterday, his roommate was shipped out to basic early. I’m watching him sleep as I write this. He looks so beautiful sprawled across that narrow bed, hair tousled. I don’t know how he can stand such a small bed the way he sleeps. I keep expecting him to fall out but he always manages to avoid it somehow.
Tonight is the Miles Davis concert and I can’t wait. These past few days have been heaven, spending almost every waking moment outside of class with him studying for finals next week. He even asked if I want to go skiing over Christmas break. I’m planning on surprising him with tickets to Vermont after finals, because I know he can’t really afford to go.
I’ve decided to tell him it’s a Christmas present from my parents to my roommate and me. I know he’s a little self-conscious about money, especially after he found out how wealthy my parents are. He used to let me pick up the tab about half the time but now he goes out of his way to pay for stuff. I wish he wouldn’t but he’s so prickly about the subject that I don’t know how to bring it up.
Well he seems to be waking so I suppose it’s time to get ready to study.
Monday, November 3, 1970
I can’t believe it. I haven’t been able to organize my thoughts to write a word since Saturday. Everything is perfect.
We sat talking after dinner and he ordered me a scotch. I tried to refuse but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I sat sipping it while he teased me about being so sheltered. When I blushed he teased more, I was in heaven. On the walk from dinner to the concert hall, we talked about music; he loves just about everything and wants to introduce me to so much I’ve never heard before.
When we found our seats, he sat very close, allowing his leg to brush mine and casting sideways looks at me. I knew he was teasing me with glimpses of what he might give to me and I was in heaven.
Once the music began, he focused completely on the stage, leaning forward intently and tapping in time with the drummer on his leg. I hardly heard a note; I was so enthralled by him. Seeing him derive so much pleasure from the performance kept a grin on my face.
At intermission, he got us two drinks at the bar and even though I meant to refuse, I found myself sipping a scotch and listening to him expound on the music with a couple who had been sitting in front of us. All the passion I’ve seen him devote to so many things came pouring out as they talked about artists and styles I’d never heard of before.
As we walked back to our seats, he slung an arm across my shoulders and said, ‘Thanks, Jack. I haven’t gotten to do this in far too long. Maggie’s idea of a concert is The Stones or Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Sometimes I just want something different from all that, but if I tried to take her someplace like this she’d pout all evening.’
I’d never heard him talk about Maggie like that. He did see what she was like; I wondered why he stuck with her. Just as I started to ask, the music began again and I lost him to it. I wasn’t worried though, we were bonding; I felt the subtle change in how he acted toward me, noticed how he looked at me.
After the concert, he practically dragged me downtown to a bar and ordered us the ubiquitous scotch. I started to nod my head when the waitress asked if we wanted water or soda in them, but his shocked look stopped me. ‘Just neat.’ He said and shook his head as she walked away. ‘Why would anyone ruin perfectly good scotch with anything?’ I was glad I hadn’t had time to request it.
After another scotch, he looked at his watch and announced that our bus would be arriving soon. We stood to leave and I could feel the room spin. Garret grinned, pulled my arm over his shoulder and walk me out to the bus stop. He teased me about being a lightweight; all I could do was agree, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.
Under the shelter, he didn’t move away from me and whether it was the scotch or my own courage, I leaned over and kissed him. For a moment, he didn’t move and then he leaned into the kiss and opened my lips with his tongue. We stood in the dark, exploring each other’s mouths until we heard the sound of the bus turning the corner.
We sat side by side all the way back to the dorm, his leg rubbing against mine and his satisfied smirk leaving me wondering who was seducing whom. As soon as I fumbled the door to our room open and closed it behind us, he pushed me back against it and began kissing me hard.
My hands were trembling as I struggled with the buttons on his shirt until he made an impatient noise in his throat and just ripped it open and flung it off. I finally could touch him as I’d ached to do for months; one hand stroked his chest while the other twined through his soft brown hair. He shoved his hands roughly into my hair and deepened the kiss.
I moaned as his tongue traced the inside of my mouth and one hand slid under my shirt to caress my back. At the feeling of his fingers on my bare skin, I gasped. I couldn’t believe that my fantasy was coming true. He walked backwards to my bed and pushed me gently down on it. Crawling on top of me, he settled between my legs and began kissing me again, his hips grinding into mine.
By now, I was moaning almost constantly and kneading his back with my hands. Suddenly he drew back and I gave a disappointed groan. He smirked at me and spoke. ‘I’m not going far,’ he said stepping to the bathroom and coming back with the Vaseline. Waving it at me as he crossed the few steps to the bed, he grinned. ‘I hate not having lube.’
He sat it on the bookshelf between our beds and as he climbed back in, I flipped him on his back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers. He was hard when I pulled them down and off his feet to fling them in the direction of his bed. For a moment, I just sat back touching him almost reverently.
At his impatient groan, I smiled wickedly at him and leaned over to drop a kiss on the tip before opening my mouth to swallow as much of him as I could. His hands tangled in my hair and he pulled me closer as I fought my gag reflex. I hate to deep throat, but for him I would do anything.
I had just found a rhythm when he pulled me back and I found myself face down on the bed, with my jeans and briefs gone flying across the room to join his. I felt his greased fingers slide inside me and begin to move, opening me and stretching me as they scissored. Normally I hate that part, but with him, it felt so erotic, more like foreplay rather than necessity.
Once he was satisfied, that I was ready; I felt the blunt head at my entrance and he slowly pushed forward. Every other lover I’d had thrust in quickly so that the first few moments were painful, but he was so slow and gentle that I was amazed when I could feel him all the way up against me, his breath in my ear as he asked if I was okay.
When I moaned a yes, he slowly withdrew and thrust in a little harder. I could feel his head rubbing my prostate as I tried to hold off. I was more turned on than ever before, because it was him; the man I had fantasized about was inside me moving in and out of me as he kissed the back of my neck and nipped at my earlobe. When he reached around and began to stroke my aching erection in time with his thrusts, I couldn’t contain the loud groan that escaped.
Garret pushed my head into the pillow and said ‘Shh’. I’d forgotten for a moment how thin the walls between the rooms were. I held the pillow close to my face as I writhed and pushed back against him already so close to the edge. As I rode the waves of sensation crashing through me, he rose up a little more on his knees and began thrusting harder. The different angle caused him to hit the small bundle of nerves inside me with each stroke.
Until he did that, I thought my orgasm was nearly over, but the change caused me to continue coming, each wave crashing over me like the pounding of storm surf. He kept thrusting hard until I thought I would pass out from the sheer pleasure and then he froze and came with a growl that sounded like my name. As he rolled off me, I curled up around him and felt him heading for sleep. He wrapped his arms around me and just before I drifted off, he whispered in my ear, ‘Christ, Jack. That was amazing.’ I smiled to myself as I drifted off.
Sunday morning I woke to find him laying propped on one elbow looking at me. When he saw my eyes were open, he smiled and traced a finger down my chest. I couldn’t contain the shiver, which just made his grin wider. He leaned down and kissed me as he ground himself into my thigh. I reached down and grasped him firmly, smiling into his kiss as he thrust against my hand with a moan.
He pulled back after a few minutes and flipped me on my back, then turned around as he straddled me, scooting me to the middle of the mattress. I reached up and took him in my mouth as I felt his lips close over me. For the next while, I was lost in sensation as he made love to me with his mouth. If he hadn’t been over me to thrust into my mouth, I would have forgotten to reciprocate.
The feeling of him swallowing me down and then tracing the tip with his tongue as he drew back was incredible. I’ve always been a bottom and honestly, no one has ever blown me, I couldn’t believe that it was him giving me this pleasure. I came very quickly and he never pulled back but drew me further into his mouth and sucked me dry.
He was still moving in my throat and I grasped his hips and began moving with him, taking him down until the curls at his base tickled my nose. My hands were busy kneading and molding his ass as he moaned and thrust forward faster and faster. All too soon, he pushed down my throat as far as he could and froze as he came. He tasted hot and wild like a summer storm on the Cape and for the first time the taste of another man did not make me nauseous.
We lay panting for several minutes, finally getting up to take a shower, squeezing together into the tiny shower in our bathroom, laughing as we washed each other. We spent the day in our room studying and making love; only leaving to eat.
Last night at bedtime he snuggled in behind my back in the narrow bed, his arms wrapped around me and sleepily murmured ‘good night, Jack.’ I fell asleep the same as the night before; a smile plastered on my face that nothing could remove.
Friday, November 7. 1970
We took our last of our final exams today and I gave Garret the tickets to Vermont, his delighted grin made me feel like a king. I want to give him so much, everything. I’ve moved past infatuation this week and can honestly say I’m in love. I’ve fallen in love with Garret Macy and I’d throw away everything to be with him.
Wednesday, December 24, 1970
I’ve been so busy, I haven’t written a word about all the things Garret and I have done together since the semester break. The ski trip was amazing, the slopes all day, dinner in the best restaurants and best of all the time spent alone in our cabin. A big bed to spread out on and no worrying about other people in the dorm hearing us; the week was incredible.
When we got home, we finished our Christmas shopping together, laughing and joking around the whole time. He even convinced me to take the train to New York for the weekend and check out the shops in Greenwich Village. We wandered through the counter culture haven picking out things for all our friends and I bought him this amazing World War Two bomber jacket in one little place.
He protested that I was spending too much on him, but he looked so good in the coat that I finally managed to convince him to take it. He threw his arms around me and told me he’d always wanted a leather coat. I walked down the street grinning from ear to ear, incredibly happy to be with him and to have made him so happy.
At one point, he talked me into trying on a pair of bell-bottom jeans and squeezed into the dressing room with me. Pulling the new jeans down to my ankles, he informed me that since I looked good enough to eat in them, he would just have to do something about it.
Leaned up against the wall of the dressing room as I looked down at him moving over me, it was all I could do not to scream out with joy as I came. As soon as I caught my breath, I pulled him up and fell to my knees, pulling his pants down and grinning when I realized he’d foregone underwear.
I knelt on the floor and wrapped my lips around him after a soft kiss on the tip. His hands came up and tangled in my hair pulling me further onto him and moving me back and forth very fast. I knew it wouldn’t take long very long to bring him off and the combined smells of the leather coat and him were making me hard all over again.
I reached down to stroke myself in time with the pace he was setting and grabbed my pants from behind him just as we both started to come. Because of the mess, I’d made of my pants I bought the bell-bottoms and wore them out of the store, along with the shirt he’d insisted I get. He said mine really didn’t look right with the new jeans and I’d stand out like a sore thumb.
We prowled the streets looking like every other person in The Village as we finished shopping, except for my short hair, which he’d convinced me to start growing out. I even let him convince me to buy a fringed vest to go with my new shirt and jeans. After a quick shower and change at the hotel, we went to dinner and a show.
I actually scored tickets to Hair and so we sat in the hotel dining room after nearly being refused entry by the maitre’d because of how we were dressed. In my new clothes, I felt very with it. Garret laughed when I told him and said ‘Righteous, Jack or far-out, but not with it.’ He laughed even harder at my blush and told me he loved how out of step I was and enjoyed turning me into a hippie.
The show was fantastic and in the last act, they invited the audience to join them on stage. Several people including Garret stripped down and danced nude with the cast members, and we ended up with an invitation to the after party. We arrived at the address to find a huge warehouse loft in The Village, filled with all sorts of people. The girl in the cast, who’d invited us, introduced us around to those she knew and then wandered off to a mattress in the corner with a very thin model I’d seen just the week before on the cover of one of my mother’s magazines and a tall West Indian guy.
I wandered around like feeling like Alice behind the looking glass as Garret stood in the corner talking music with the assistant director and some guy from the cast. I could see drugs and bottles of booze being passed around and after the fifth person offered me a joint, I decided what the hell. At first, I felt absolutely nothing, but very soon, everything anyone said became much funnier and I found myself giggling. I sat in a corner with a blonde and a redhead who kept plying me with more pot.
A little while later Garret wandered over and I stood up and told him I wanted to dance with him. The redhead told him she wanted to borrow his ‘boyfriend’ for the night and he said it was fine with him but he didn’t think I’d go for it. I looked at her and said ‘I think after Garret you couldn’t possibly measure up.’ Both girls laughed and told Garret his ‘boyfriend’ was cute. He put his arm around me and told them they had no idea what they were missing.
As he led me off to dance, I saw the two of them start making out and remember thinking that this party was way out of my league. We stopped in the middle of the floor, Garret pulled me in close, and we began swaying to the music. I clearly remember the song that was playing it was Fire and Rain by James Taylor. I’ll never forget how it felt to dance with him in a room full of people. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so free.
When the song was over and we began to walk around again, I suddenly had to sit down, the room was spinning around me and I couldn’t feel my legs, but I remember not minding. Garret went to get me something nonalcoholic to drink and while he was gone, my redhead from the corner came over and offered me a hit off another joint. I took it, the next thing I remember was waking up in the hotel room with Garret leaning over me, and the redhead was laughing in the background. ‘What the hell happened?’ I asked him.
He said that I’d passed out after offering to arm-wrestle the redhead, whose name was Jeanette, for who got to sleep with him first that night. I could feel the blush from hearing this all the way to my toes. I tried to sit up to apologize to Jeanette, but she sat on the other side of me and stroked my hair telling me I was just too cute and not to worry about it.
She asked me if I minded if she took me up on my offer and stayed with Garret. I agreed and fell asleep. I woke up sometime later to hear the two of them talking softly beside me on the bed. Someone had stripped me and we were all three under the covers naked, Garret in the middle. When they realized I was awake, they turned to me and he smiled at me asking if I was okay.
I asked Jeannette what was in the pot and she laughed saying it was just some hash. We lay there talking until the sun came up and then took Jeanette back to her place on the way to the train.
When we got back to Boston, I talked to Mother and Father and they’ve agreed to rent an apartment across from campus for us. I don’t think Garret will object since it means no more dorm advisor laying down rules and no curfew. It’s small but it has two bedrooms and a lot more space than our tiny dorm room.
I’ll tell him when I see him tomorrow; my parents have invited him and his mother for Christmas dinner and they’ll be here at eleven. I’ll get to spend Christmas day with him; I just have to be careful how I act around my parents. We’ll be dropping off his mom after dinner and then he’s invited me to a party at his friend’s house.
By the time Maggie gets back from Europe, he’ll be all mine. I can’t see him going back to her whining and pouting when he could be with someone who respects his space. I’m going to do everything I can to show him we should be together.
Wednesday, December 30, 1970
We signed the lease on the apartment yesterday and spent today moving in. I gave Garret the bigger bedroom and a queen size bed. When he asked me why, I said that I figured that if he had anyone over he’d want the extra room. He looked surprised and asked if I was tired of him already. I told him that I’d never be tired of him, but that I knew he liked his space and his freedom and I didn’t want him to feel tied down.
He walked up behind me and pulled me close. He whispered in my ear ‘Jack, you’re amazing. I was afraid when you suggested this apartment you expected some kind of permanent thing between us. Jesus, if you were a woman, I’d marry you.’
I could hardly catch my breath as I told him that I knew he didn’t appreciate being pinned down and enjoyed sleeping around. I went on to tell him that it was cool by me if he trooped half the people at Boston U, through here. I only asked that he let me know if he was having someone stay so that I wouldn’t stumble into someone I didn’t know in the morning.
He looked like a kid who’d been given the keys to the candy store. He started out of the room and then turned and came back. ‘I know what you feel; Jack and I promise I’ll always be honest with you, but you know I don’t feel the same way, right?’
I told him I knew and that it didn’t bother me, but it does. Garret just thinks of me as the friend he sleeps with and I’ve fallen head over heels for him. I knew going into this that he had never been serious about a man, that for him it was just the sex, but for me it’s so much more. I can’t help that my heart is involved and I’m certain that some day he’s going to settle down with some girl and my heart will break. I only hope he picks someone better for him than Maggie, the clingy dimwit.
I called out to him that I was going to grab a nap and went to lay down on my bed, tears burning my eyes. I curled up around my pillow and was miserable for a while. Then about two hours later, he came in and asked me if I wanted some coffee. We sat in the living room and drank coffee watching the snow falling gently outside; as the sun went down, he leaned over and kissed me. “Jack, I don’t want to hurt you, if it gets to be more than you can handle we can back off.’ I leaned against him and said I’d be fine.
I can’t risk losing what I have of him, but I see now that he’ll never be mine. He needs to think of himself as straight and that having sex with another man is just fun, no strings attached physical pleasure. I won’t let it get to me now though; there’ll be enough pain later when he moves on.
I never meant to fall in love with him, but here I am. I know it will end someday, but until then, I’ll take what I can get. I have a feeling the memories of these times will have to last me a long time. I don’t think there will be anyone else after Garret who will come close to touching my soul the way he has. For the first time in my life, I wish I’d been born a woman, so I could keep him.
Friday, January 1, 1971
Neither of us felt like going out for New Years Eve so, we sat here with a bottle of scotch and toasted the New Year in together. Garret even kissed me at midnight and I remembered what my mother used to say; what you do at midnight on New Years you’ll do all year long. I hope that superstition in true.
I suppose I’m still feeling depressed by my sudden epiphany the other day, even though Garret isn’t treating me any differently, I feel like I have to get the most out of every moment with him; file away every look and touch, so that I can look them over later when he’s moved on.
Monday, January 17, 1971
First day of classes and the first day of Garret’s killer class load. He has to be in his first class at 7:00AM and his last class doesn’t end until 5:30PM. On top of everything else, he only has thirty minutes for lunch, it takes him ten minutes to walk from class to the dining hall, and five minutes from the dining hall to his next class, so if he goes through the line, he might get five minutes to eat.
Tomorrow I’ll surprise him by meeting him outside class with his lunch in hand; he’ll grouse and complain, but I know he’ll appreciate it.
Friday, January 21, 1971
Tonight was Garret’s last show with the band. He decided over Christmas break he can’t keep up with classes, rehearsals and gigs. I know it’s killing him to give it up for now, but maybe the war will be over soon and he can go back to his music major.
I couldn’t stand the look on his face after the show tonight; he looked like he was losing his best friend. When we got back home, he sat on his bed and stared into space for a long time. I kept walking past checking on him, finally going in and sitting beside him. As soon as I touched his shoulder, he laid his head over on my stomach and cried.
I laid back and pulled him up beside me holding him until he fell asleep in my arms. I wish things could be different, but the only way he can be assured of staying safe is to follow through with premed and if he flunks out, he’ll be off to boot camp. I know he’s hurting but if I have to choose between him safe and him having his music, I’ll be selfish and choose to have him safe.
Tuesday, February 8, 1971
When I got back to the apartment, Garret was sitting in the living room with the oddest look on his face. I asked what was wrong and he said his best friend’s sister had called and told him that her brother had been killed in Vietnam. He’d been there for two weeks and was shot by a sniper. I tried to get him to talk about it, but he just sat there for hours and finally I had to leave him there and go to bed.
About an hour later, I woke up to him shaking me. I sat up and he looked at me very hollowed-eyed and asked me if he was a coward. I pulled him close and told him he was the bravest man I knew. He had the courage to give up his music for his convictions.
He said he wondered if they were convictions or the posturing of a scared little man. I held him tight and kissed him. I told him that if he couldn’t believe himself, he could believe me.
He pulled back and looked at me for a long moment then kissed me hard, pushing me backward on the bed and reaching down my boxers. He grabbed me and began jerking me off roughly. I didn’t want to respond to it; the experience was to full of anger, painful and not at all like him, but my body didn’t care. I moaned and started thrusting into his hand quickly reaching a climax and before I could catch my breath, he stood up and looked down at me. I’ve never seen a look more filled with self-loathing. He finally spoke, ‘Don’t love me, Jack. You know I’ll only end up hurting you.’
He turned and left the room. Before I could get out of bed, I heard the front door close and he was gone.
Friday, January 11, 1971
No one has seen Garret since he left the apartment on Tuesday. I’ve called all his friends and even his mother. Mrs. Macy told me he was probably off somewhere sulking. I’ve never known such a cold woman; her son is in pain and wandering around doing God knows what and she couldn’t care less.
I’ve spent hours walking from bar to bar in the University area with a picture of him. Several bartenders recognized him, but couldn’t say when they’d last seen him.
Tomorrow I think I’ll start checking out the bars further out and call Jeanette in New York. He might have gone there and if he did maybe, he’s crashing with her. After that, I don’t know what I’ll do; I’m so scared for him, all I can see in my mind is the look in his eyes just before he left. He was so sure, he was worthless that I afraid of what he might do, what he might have already done, but I checked the hospitals and the morgue this morning. The person I talked to at the morgue said he’d call if anyone fitting that description were brought in, so now every time the phone rings I’m almost afraid to pick it up.
Monday, January 14, 1971
Garret’s back. When I came in from my last class, he was sitting in the living room with the lights off. I reached to turn on the lamp and he asked me not to. He looked like hell; he needed a shave and a bath and maybe detox. He smelled like a distillery and looked almost as bad as the bums down in Southie. But he’s home!
After I coaxed him into a shower and fed him take out, I finally asked him where he’d been. He said he didn’t remember much after the third bar Saturday morning, just that he’d awakened this morning in some flophouse with a girl in bed beside him and several scotch bottles on the floor. He’d snuck out before she could wake up and came back home.
He looked at me and said he was sorry for Tuesday night and that he’d understand if I kicked him out. I pulled him close and told him not to be stupid; everybody goes a little crazy sometimes. His arms wrapped around me and I felt his shoulders shake as he began to cry. I’m not sure if the tears were for his friend or for himself, but I held him close until they stopped and he wiped his eyes.
He finally spoke, ‘I don’t understand why you love me, Jack, but I’m glad you’re here.’ I just held him tighter and he kissed me and stood pulling me off the couch and toward the bedroom.
He climbed on the bed and pulled me down beside him. As he kissed along my jaw line, he unbuttoned my shirt, pushed it down my arms and off, and then threw it in the corner. While he turned his attention to the zipper on my pants, I managed to get his shirt off and began teasing his nipples. When I leaned over, pulled one into my mouth, and raked my teeth across it, he hissed and dragged my mouth up to his, kissing me hard and deep.
He managed to push my pants and underwear down to my knees without breaking the kiss and I wriggled the rest of the way out of them as he began kissing his way down my neck. I went to work on his jeans as he nipped the skin below my ear. When my hand finally reached him he was hard and throbbing, I pushed him over on his back and began kissing my way down his chest and stomach, while my hand stroked him.
He thrust up against me and then moved my hand away and caught both of mine in his and held them as he flipped me over on my back, slid down and took me in his mouth. I lay there gasping and moaning under his lips as he swallowed me all the way down and stayed there working his throat muscles as I sobbed out with the feel of him.
One of his hands let go of mine and I ran my hand through his hair as I watched what he was doing to me. Suddenly I felt his fingers in his mouth along side me and I fumbled in the drawer for the lube. When I finally found it by feel, I turned back to see his deep brown eyes staring into mine as he moved over me. Having him look me in the eye as he deep throated me almost sent me over the edge and I lay there transfixed by his gaze, the lube dangling in my nerveless fingers.
He took the lube from my hand and squeezed some onto his fingers without missing a beat. When I felt his lube slicked fingers rubbing across me, I moaned and then gasped as one and then two entered me, quickly finding and massaging my prostate. He stroked me repeatedly in time with each downward movement of his mouth. When he pushed a third finger inside me, I felt the familiar tingling sensation in my groin and knew I couldn’t stand another moment; I came, moaning and thrusting into his mouth.
After I finally came back down from the sex induced high, he crawled up beside me and kissed me. I couldn’t believe how erotic it was to taste myself on his tongue as he thrust it into my mouth. I started to kiss my way down his chest but he pulled me back up to his mouth and ground his lips against mine. He pulled back and breathlessly said, ‘I want you to fuck me this time, Jack.’
‘You don’t have to bottom just to make up for the other night, Garret.’ I replied. ‘I told you, it wasn’t important. Forget it.’
‘It wasn’t ‘nothing’. I treated you like a piece of meat and you deserve more than that, Jack. You done nothing but love me and never asked for anything in return. Besides that’s not the reason.’ he said rubbing himself against my thigh. ‘I want to know how it feels for you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It started with something Jeannette said that night in New York about how most men could never understand why women equate sex with love. She said most men don’t know what it feels like to have someone inside their body, to give that kind of control to another person, to allow that level of intimacy. I’ve been curious ever since, so…’ He handed me the lube and turned over, spreading his legs and pushing a pillow under his hips. I looked at that incredible ass in front of me offered up for me to ravish and swallowed hard.
‘Um, Garret, I’ve never topped before.’ I stammered feeling as if I were admitting I was a virgin to a bunch of high school boys.
He laughed deep in his throat and answered. ‘I guess we’ll both be trying something new then, won’t we Jack.’
If it were anyone else I’d have sworn they were laughing at me; I’ve always hated being laughed at but Garret never makes me feel that way. His laughter invites me to join him in the joke and makes me feel like something I’d never been before, as though I were part of the in crowd instead of on the outside as the butt of their jokes. It’s almost like being best friends with the coolest guy in high school, something I’m sure Garret was. You know the type, the guy who always knows the newest slang and swaggers around as if he owns the school.
I laughed nervously, applied the lube to my fingers, and rubbed them across the tight little pucker between his cheeks. He clenched at first then visibly relaxed and sighed as I began to tease his opening. As he relaxed more and began to moan, I pushed one finger through the ring of muscles and worked it slowly in. He was so tight at first I began to doubt this would work, but as I moved the finger slowly in and out, he began to loosen until I was able to add another one. Over the next ten or fifteen minutes, I worked my fingers back and forth inside him and eventually added a third.
At first, he flinched and tensed up, but began to relax almost immediately and soon was thrusting back against my hand as I manipulated him and found his prostate. When I stroked over it the first time, he groaned and writhed, pushing harder against my fingers. I pushed my little finger inside as well and the only response he gave was to moan deeper.
I knew he was as ready as he was going to be for his first time. I pulled my hand away gently and applied lube all over myself, then positioned the head of my cock against the tight little rosebud. I reached around and stroked him as I pushed forward gently. When the head slid in he gasped and I froze waiting for him to relax again before slowly pushing forward.
At each gasp, I would stop and wait for him. I couldn’t believe how tight he felt around me; I could feel his pulse throbbing around me as his muscles clenched, stroking me. Finally, I was buried in his ass to the hilt; both of us lay there gasping and moaning. He began to push back against me and I pulled back slowly until just the head was inside him. As I surged forward carefully, he lost all patience and pushed back against me hard and then winced and groaned in pain at the too fast movement. I stayed very still and continued stroking him with my hand until he relaxed.
I leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck. ‘Are you ready?’ I whispered and he nodded not speaking. Having been in his position, I understood. The first time it’s all you can do to catch your breath; the only question is whether the feeling is cause by pain, pleasure or a mix of both. I was being careful because I knew the pain aspect far too well, until Garret, none of my lovers had been particularly gentle and I didn’t want to hurt him. He’d hurt himself far too much already in the last few days and I had a feeling he wasn’t done hurting himself; I wasn’t going to add physical pain to it as well.
I began moving gently back and forth inside him and his moans became so frequent it was hard to distinguish one from the other. I kept up pumping him with my hand in time to my thrusts and rubbing my thumb across the sensitive head on each upstroke. After an endless time I felt him begin to tremble under me and he came with a low growl that rumbled through him forever.
I started thrusting faster and he thrust back against me hard until we were moving faster than I thought possible; the only sounds in the room were our moans and skin slapping skin. Finally, I couldn’t hold off any longer, pushed deep inside him, and froze shuddering as I emptied myself inside him. As I returned to my senses I realized he’d come a second time with me.
I eased out of him, knowing full well he’d be feeling his stretched and abused muscles any moment. I fell onto the bed beside him and pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around me and winced as he slid closer.
He chuckled painfully and looked at me. ‘Jesus, Jack, how can you be so relaxed afterwards if your ass hurts like this?’
I reached up and stroked his hair out of his face. ‘It doesn’t hurt, at least not anymore. It’s one of those things you get used to, like doing a hundred push-ups in Physical Training.’ I said mentioning the only course I had any trouble passing, at least until Garret started working out with me and motivating me.
‘I sure as hell have never hurt there after push-ups.’ He grinned and kissed me. ‘That was incredible, I’ve never felt so…’
I understood exactly what he meant. ‘Beats the hell out of PT, huh?’ I joked and he laughed and winced.
‘Shit.’ He cursed at the pain.
‘That won’t feel real comfortable either for the next few hours.’ I couldn’t resist the jibe. I was almost giddy with relief that he was back and safe.
‘Keep it up Slokum and I will tell the coach you’ve been slacking off on warm-ups.’ He jokingly threatened.
‘Man, you are a vicious bastard. I thought sex was supposed to release endorphins and make you happier.’ I just couldn’t stop myself from laughing and after a moment he joined me, wincing a little, which of course made me laugh harder.
I laid there with him until he fell asleep and then got up to study, sitting at the desk in his room so I could look over from time to time just to reassure myself he really had come back. I had trouble concentrating, finally giving up entirely and lay back down beside him. He reached for me and pulled me close mumbling my name and smiling in his sleep.
‘God,’ I thought, ‘I think he does love me, but unless he can admit it to himself, he’s still going to break my heart; probably when Maggie comes back from Italy.’
However, I don’t care; I’ll take what I can get for as long as I can. Even if it means sleeping with him after he marries her or whatever woman he ends up with, but I know one thing for sure, no one will ever understand him or love him as I do.
Thursday, February 14, 1971
I’m so depressed, today all over campus, the straight couples are gushing over each other with love and I can’t tell Garret how I feel. I’ve never gotten a box of chocolate or even a Valentine’s card at least not since the third grade when Bobby Lowell stole all of mine and threw them in the drainage ditch. No one has ever told me they loved me on Valentine’s Day. I think I’ll skip my afternoon classes and sleep the rest of the day.
Thursday, February 14, 1971 9PM
Forget what I wrote earlier! When I woke up from my nap there was a red rose on my pillow beside my head; no note, nothing else, but I know who it’s from. He loves me, even if he can’t say it, he loves me. He’s not here, he had to go out of town for a cousin’s wedding, but he left me a rose. I always thought people who pressed flowers were crazy, but I called my mother and asked her what you’re supposed to do. She thought I was nuts, so I told her one of my study partners boyfriends, had given her a rose she wanted to press. As soon as I got off the phone, I did just what she said except for one petal, which I put in my wallet so I can have a part of him with me all the time. I love Valentine’s Day.
Sunday, February 17, 1971
Garret came back this afternoon and as soon as he dropped his bags he grabbed me and told me, he missed me. He kissed me until my mouth was swollen and dragged me back to the bedroom. For the very first time we made love face to face. I can’t tell you what it felt like to be able to look into his eyes as he moved inside me.
When he looked at me, I could see what he felt in his eyes and it’s not just sex anymore, no matter what he tries to tell himself. I may never have had anyone look at me that way before, but I know what love looks like.
He may never realize it, but I know now that a least a part of him will always be mine. I’ll still have to let him go eventually, but for now at least, he loves me and I think that now it will be easier to lose him. Because now I know that, at least for a while he truly loved me. It will still hurt but not like knowing that I was only a friend he slept with. If only I could hear him say it just once, acknowledge what he feels, but I don’t think he can, because that would mean admitting he’s bi and I don’t believe he can do that and maintain his self image.
But if he’d say it just once I’d live on it for the rest of my life. There are times when I have to bite my lip not to say it out loud. I know that he already knows how I feel, but I wish I felt I could say it to him. Sometimes I sit in my room when he thinks I’m studying and I can’t stop the tears from falling like some silly heartbroken teenaged girl.
I’ve never felt this way before and after he’s gone I don’t know if I want to risk feeling this way again; I’m too vulnerable like this, to easy to hurt. I don’t think love is worth this kind of pain.
MONDAY, September 11, 1970
I saw him again today as I walked past the Art Center. Standing with his friends talking about whatever they discuss so enthusiastically. I had to look as I passed, trying to be subtle. Using the corner of my eye to capture each movement, the flip of the long brown waves back out of his face, the way his lips caressed the cigarette he placed between them. The way his broad, strong hands moved as he made some point in his conversation.
As I sat down to study in my room that night, I could still hear the echoes of his laugh in my mind, as it wafted across the Quad to me. So free, so happy; I wanted to join him there, to discover what he found so amusing. What I wouldn’t give to be beside him as he laughs and argues the creative process, to join in with his free and easy way of living, to say to hell with tomorrow. What does the song say ‘let’s live for today and don’t worry bout tomorrow’, but I was late for Microbiology and if I don’t worry about tomorrow, I’ll never survive Med school.
After Micro, I passed through the Quad again and still they stood there, laughing, talking as though they never considered studying or writing a paper. I wish I could be more like him. I wish I could be with him, to have those long fingers touch me: stroking my hair and face as he looked at me with those deep brown eyes. I’ve heard he doesn’t care about the sex of his partners so it wouldn’t be impossible as long as I was discrete.
I can’t afford a scandal, if I want to make it to the top. More than anything, I want to be at the top of my profession and the only way to get there is follow the rules; become the one who makes sure the others follow the rules. I’ve not allowed anything to get in my way yet and I won’t now; but I want him, I want to be with him.
Tomorrow is Tuesday, which means Government and Ethics, he’ll be there, lounging in the back, barely taking a note, and yet he aces the tests and argues with the professor during class discussions as though he already knows all the answers. He really seems to enjoy goading Professor Mulroy out of his normal placid demeanor by bringing up the war. Mulroy isn’t a super patriot, but he does seem to rub the man the wrong way. I’ll sit there trying to concentrate, but just knowing he’s in the room, takes my breath away. It’s time I faced facts, Garret Macy has me enthralled and I’m not even sure he knows I exist.
Time for bed, I have an early class tomorrow and then Government and Ethics at noon. I love Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Tuesday, September 12, 1970
His band played tonight at a bar on Commonwealth Ave. and of course, I went to listen. I sat in the back as usual sipping coffee and watching him play. I love watching him do anything, but when he plays drums he’s unbelievable, all that fire and passion is concentrated on the music. He draws the eye even as he tries to hide in the background, out of the spotlight. I’ve noticed that it’s not just me; others watch him instead of the singer.
Tomorrow all my classes are in the science building, so I won’t see him at all, unless he shows up early for breakfast; something that never happens. I don’t think he gets up before 10AM. I could hang out on the Arts building side of the Quad, but I try not to do that. I know I’m obsessed; I don’t need the world to know it too.
I’ve had a few lovers and a few crushes, but this feels different. I’ve never had anyone take my breath away merely by walking into the same room. The few times I’ve gotten close to him, he’ll smile at me and I walk on air the rest of the day. His smiles are incredible, starting in his eyes then spreading across his face like a sunrise, until he seems lit from within, but sexiest of all is his smirk. His face was made for a smirk, it seems to say ‘I’m me and I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think about it.’
Wednesday, September 13, 1970
I didn’t see him today.
Professor Stanton was in a generous mood, no reading assignment this week and he’s out of town on Friday so there’ll be no class either. It looks like my weekend will be mostly free. Tomorrow is Government and Ethics again; he’ll be there.
Thursday, October 15, 1970
He spoke to me today. He came into Government class grousing about the war and the draft. I was sitting there waiting for class to begin and he sat beside me instead of at the back of the lecture hall and said ‘What do you think, Jack.’ As though we were old friends, he knew my name! I managed to stammer out something about being pre med, which automatically gets me out of the draft.
His eyes took on a speculative look and then the professor came in. I couldn’t believe that he actually took notes this time. Would I sound like a completely gushing teenage girl, if I said that even his handwriting is beautiful?
I just re-read that and I did sound like a gushing teenage girl. I can’t help myself; I’m completely defenseless when it comes to him. He can make my day with just a look, or destroy me.
If he’d give me half a chance, I’d show him love like he’d never known before. That blonde twit he’s dating is all wrong for him. She’ll never understand him; she’s nowhere close to his league. Maggie is just a giggly sorority girl, with no real talent or brains. How can she possibly hold on to him, hold his interest?
I think I understand him; he wants to love to be a challenge and needs a lover who doesn’t cling to him too tightly. A lover who will stand back and let him fly free, something she is incapable of doing. When she’s around him, she pouts unless he pays attention solely to her and he lets her get away with it. I don’t get what he sees in her.
I understand the physical attraction, she very pretty and has a classic cheerleader’s body. She’s probably wild in bed, considering that her walk is an invitation all by its self, but how can he be happy with that. After a while, the physical attraction is bound to fade and he’ll probably be on to his next conquest, that’s when the fireworks will start. She’ll never be able to stand by while he sleeps around; she’s not strong enough or smart enough to understand that he’s the kind of man who can’t sleep with just one person. He’ll never be satisfied with just one lover.
If he were with me, I wouldn’t care who he slept with; I’m not the jealous type. He could screw all of Boston and I wouldn’t care, just to be with him would be enough; to know that when all is said and done, I’d be the one he came back to, but it looks as though he only has flings with other men, not serious relationships
His band has a show tonight at Sam’s; I’ll be there of course as usual. Have to get ready now.
Friday, October 16, 1970 2AM
I’m too up to sleep. He came up to me tonight after the bar closed and talked to me. I was waiting for the bus and he was loading up his drum set. He walked over and asked me if I could help him. His number had come up in the draft and he was going to switch to premed so he could get an exemption. He wanted me to help him catch up with the rest of us so he could still graduate on time. It won’t be easy to do; he’ll have to take almost 40 credit hours in only three semesters. These are some of the hardest courses they offer, but he’s smart and if I help him, he can do it.
So now, I’ll be spending every afternoon and evening with him. I can’t believe it; I asked him why me, and he said I was the smartest person he knew. He thinks I’m smart and he actually paid attention to me.
Tomorrow afternoon is our first study session; I can’t wait.
Friday, October 17, 1970
Today was amazing, sitting across from him all afternoon in the library; watching him through my lashes. He sprawled in the chair, book in hand reading; his eyebrows knitted in concentration, the rest of him relaxed, his hand tapping a rhythm on the top of the book. It was all I could do to read my assignment and form coherent answers to his questions.
I sat drinking in his presence, watching his hand tap to the beat in his head, occasionally reaching up to push a stray lock of hair back out of his eyes, his wide expressive mouth tempting me to lean over and kiss him as he bit his lip. I caught him glancing at me from time to time with a speculative look in his eye as I secretly watched him.
Later we walked to the dining hall together to grab a bite, on the way he told me that his best friend and roommate had been drafted and was off to basic at the end of the semester. He went on about the war and how the President was lying to us. I listened even though I could care less about it; I’m pre med. I won’t have to go and now that he’s switching majors neither will he, so what do I care about a war halfway around the world.
I would never say that to him, he’s so passionate about the anti-war movement, just as he is about everything else. I’ve seen him at the campus rallies, making speeches that, unlike the others, are well reasoned, not just rhetoric and fury. The dean has even asked him to sit on a student/faculty panel to discuss school policy in the wake of the shooting at Kent State in May.
So, we walked across campus, him talking about Cambodia and secret wars in Laos and Air America, me just listening and enjoying finally being with him. Alone like this, I could almost imagine us as a couple, just talking about our day and the shape of the world. If he’d give me a chance, I know I could make him happy.
As we neared the dining hall, Maggie came up behind him and slipped in between us, looping her arm around his waist casually. She asked him to take her to dinner off campus and of course, he agreed.
As they walked away wrapped around each other, I suddenly lost my appetite and came back to my room to study some more.
Monday, October 20, 1970
Amazing news today, Maggie is not going to be here next semester. She’s doing a semester abroad in Italy and Garret asked me if he could room with me so that we could study together more easily. Since my roommate is going to be leaving for California to finish out at UCLA and his is going in the Army, it’s perfect. We just have to decide which dorm we want to live in.
I can’t believe it; I’ll be waking up to him each morning. I think if we’re together everyday with no Maggie to butt in I can get him to see me. I think he already has figured out that I like guys and it doesn’t seem to bother him at all. In fact, he’s taken to teasing me in little ways, like throwing his arm around my shoulder when we walk from the library to the dining hall and constantly bumping my foot with his under the table at meals, then giving me that sly smirk.
Last night when Maggie met us outside the dining hall with yet another demand for dinner off-campus he looked over at me and said ‘You coming, Jack?’ Maggie pouted at first but then he kissed her and said he had to keep up his tutor’s strength or I’d forget to eat and then where would he be.
As we started toward the bus stop, he swung Maggie around and slipped in between us, throwing that arm across my shoulders again. I thought I would melt on the spot from happiness. I was being taken to dinner by Garret. Okay I know, it was dinner with his girlfriend too, but still out to eat with him!
Maggie kept shooting me daggers with her eyes all night except when Garret was looking at her; I think she knows that I want him. I sat there thinking, ‘Enjoy it now, sweetheart, because while you’re off in Europe he’ll be all mine and living in my dorm room to boot.’
Sunday, October 26, 1970
I spent all afternoon with Mother and Father; it would have been a complete waste of time except that, as I was leaving Mother gave me the perfect opening with Garret. She won two tickets to see Miles Davis and she hates any jazz style except some of the big band jazz, so she gave them to me. Garret has talked a lot about music so I know that while he plays rock he also loves jazz. I’ll ask him if he wants to go tomorrow after our study session.
Monday, October 27, 1970
He’s going and I think he’s gone from thinking he knows about me to making the connection. When I asked him if he wanted to go with me, he looked me up and down and said ‘That explains a lot, Jack. Never figured you swung that way, but hey.’
I wanted to run away, to sink through the floor, but he smirked at me and said he had a girlfriend. Then he leaned close and whispered in my ear that he wasn’t adverse to flings. I stammered something about him maybe wanting to change his mind about the roommate thing, but he just shrugged and said he didn’t figure I’d try to take something until he offered it.
I don’t remember walking back to my dorm room, but suddenly I was laying across my bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about him. He was going and he wasn’t freaked that I was attracted to him, he said until he offered, not unless, but until. He wanted to have a fling, okay, I know he only said he wasn’t adverse to a fling, but he’s going!
Tuesday, October 28, 1970
Garret was waiting for me when I came out of Public Speaking this morning! He’d gotten up early to walk across campus just to walk halfway back with me to our Government and Ethics class. He said he was wondering about what time the show was, but he could have met me at the lecture hall and asked me that. I think he wanted to see me, to walk with me for a while.
We decided to grab dinner before the show and then maybe a drink after. God, it’s a date, I think even he thinks so since he said he’d pick me up at 6:00; not meet me, but pick me up.
After class, we walked to the dining hall and sat together eating. He leaned over the table and said ‘so you’re a Davis fan?’ I told him I preferred Armstrong and he said I was okay. Suddenly he leaned over and whispered. ‘You don’t expect anything do you Jack? I mean I can’t say I haven’t noticed, but…’
I told him all I expected was his company at dinner and the concert; he nodded then told me he and the guys in the band had gotten studio time, so he wouldn’t be making our afternoon study session. As he headed out the door, Maggie walked up to him and off they went arms around each other. I was so jealous for a moment until I remembered that he’d be all mine for the next six months.
All her classes were half semester in preparation for her trip to Italy. She would be leaving on Thursday afternoon to visit her parents until her flight out in mid November. She wouldn’t be back until May, by then if things went my way, Garret would be breaking up with her to be with me.
Saturday, November 1, 1970
Garret moved into my room yesterday, his roommate was shipped out to basic early. I’m watching him sleep as I write this. He looks so beautiful sprawled across that narrow bed, hair tousled. I don’t know how he can stand such a small bed the way he sleeps. I keep expecting him to fall out but he always manages to avoid it somehow.
Tonight is the Miles Davis concert and I can’t wait. These past few days have been heaven, spending almost every waking moment outside of class with him studying for finals next week. He even asked if I want to go skiing over Christmas break. I’m planning on surprising him with tickets to Vermont after finals, because I know he can’t really afford to go.
I’ve decided to tell him it’s a Christmas present from my parents to my roommate and me. I know he’s a little self-conscious about money, especially after he found out how wealthy my parents are. He used to let me pick up the tab about half the time but now he goes out of his way to pay for stuff. I wish he wouldn’t but he’s so prickly about the subject that I don’t know how to bring it up.
Well he seems to be waking so I suppose it’s time to get ready to study.
Monday, November 3, 1970
I can’t believe it. I haven’t been able to organize my thoughts to write a word since Saturday. Everything is perfect.
We sat talking after dinner and he ordered me a scotch. I tried to refuse but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I sat sipping it while he teased me about being so sheltered. When I blushed he teased more, I was in heaven. On the walk from dinner to the concert hall, we talked about music; he loves just about everything and wants to introduce me to so much I’ve never heard before.
When we found our seats, he sat very close, allowing his leg to brush mine and casting sideways looks at me. I knew he was teasing me with glimpses of what he might give to me and I was in heaven.
Once the music began, he focused completely on the stage, leaning forward intently and tapping in time with the drummer on his leg. I hardly heard a note; I was so enthralled by him. Seeing him derive so much pleasure from the performance kept a grin on my face.
At intermission, he got us two drinks at the bar and even though I meant to refuse, I found myself sipping a scotch and listening to him expound on the music with a couple who had been sitting in front of us. All the passion I’ve seen him devote to so many things came pouring out as they talked about artists and styles I’d never heard of before.
As we walked back to our seats, he slung an arm across my shoulders and said, ‘Thanks, Jack. I haven’t gotten to do this in far too long. Maggie’s idea of a concert is The Stones or Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Sometimes I just want something different from all that, but if I tried to take her someplace like this she’d pout all evening.’
I’d never heard him talk about Maggie like that. He did see what she was like; I wondered why he stuck with her. Just as I started to ask, the music began again and I lost him to it. I wasn’t worried though, we were bonding; I felt the subtle change in how he acted toward me, noticed how he looked at me.
After the concert, he practically dragged me downtown to a bar and ordered us the ubiquitous scotch. I started to nod my head when the waitress asked if we wanted water or soda in them, but his shocked look stopped me. ‘Just neat.’ He said and shook his head as she walked away. ‘Why would anyone ruin perfectly good scotch with anything?’ I was glad I hadn’t had time to request it.
After another scotch, he looked at his watch and announced that our bus would be arriving soon. We stood to leave and I could feel the room spin. Garret grinned, pulled my arm over his shoulder and walk me out to the bus stop. He teased me about being a lightweight; all I could do was agree, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.
Under the shelter, he didn’t move away from me and whether it was the scotch or my own courage, I leaned over and kissed him. For a moment, he didn’t move and then he leaned into the kiss and opened my lips with his tongue. We stood in the dark, exploring each other’s mouths until we heard the sound of the bus turning the corner.
We sat side by side all the way back to the dorm, his leg rubbing against mine and his satisfied smirk leaving me wondering who was seducing whom. As soon as I fumbled the door to our room open and closed it behind us, he pushed me back against it and began kissing me hard.
My hands were trembling as I struggled with the buttons on his shirt until he made an impatient noise in his throat and just ripped it open and flung it off. I finally could touch him as I’d ached to do for months; one hand stroked his chest while the other twined through his soft brown hair. He shoved his hands roughly into my hair and deepened the kiss.
I moaned as his tongue traced the inside of my mouth and one hand slid under my shirt to caress my back. At the feeling of his fingers on my bare skin, I gasped. I couldn’t believe that my fantasy was coming true. He walked backwards to my bed and pushed me gently down on it. Crawling on top of me, he settled between my legs and began kissing me again, his hips grinding into mine.
By now, I was moaning almost constantly and kneading his back with my hands. Suddenly he drew back and I gave a disappointed groan. He smirked at me and spoke. ‘I’m not going far,’ he said stepping to the bathroom and coming back with the Vaseline. Waving it at me as he crossed the few steps to the bed, he grinned. ‘I hate not having lube.’
He sat it on the bookshelf between our beds and as he climbed back in, I flipped him on his back and made quick work of his jeans and boxers. He was hard when I pulled them down and off his feet to fling them in the direction of his bed. For a moment, I just sat back touching him almost reverently.
At his impatient groan, I smiled wickedly at him and leaned over to drop a kiss on the tip before opening my mouth to swallow as much of him as I could. His hands tangled in my hair and he pulled me closer as I fought my gag reflex. I hate to deep throat, but for him I would do anything.
I had just found a rhythm when he pulled me back and I found myself face down on the bed, with my jeans and briefs gone flying across the room to join his. I felt his greased fingers slide inside me and begin to move, opening me and stretching me as they scissored. Normally I hate that part, but with him, it felt so erotic, more like foreplay rather than necessity.
Once he was satisfied, that I was ready; I felt the blunt head at my entrance and he slowly pushed forward. Every other lover I’d had thrust in quickly so that the first few moments were painful, but he was so slow and gentle that I was amazed when I could feel him all the way up against me, his breath in my ear as he asked if I was okay.
When I moaned a yes, he slowly withdrew and thrust in a little harder. I could feel his head rubbing my prostate as I tried to hold off. I was more turned on than ever before, because it was him; the man I had fantasized about was inside me moving in and out of me as he kissed the back of my neck and nipped at my earlobe. When he reached around and began to stroke my aching erection in time with his thrusts, I couldn’t contain the loud groan that escaped.
Garret pushed my head into the pillow and said ‘Shh’. I’d forgotten for a moment how thin the walls between the rooms were. I held the pillow close to my face as I writhed and pushed back against him already so close to the edge. As I rode the waves of sensation crashing through me, he rose up a little more on his knees and began thrusting harder. The different angle caused him to hit the small bundle of nerves inside me with each stroke.
Until he did that, I thought my orgasm was nearly over, but the change caused me to continue coming, each wave crashing over me like the pounding of storm surf. He kept thrusting hard until I thought I would pass out from the sheer pleasure and then he froze and came with a growl that sounded like my name. As he rolled off me, I curled up around him and felt him heading for sleep. He wrapped his arms around me and just before I drifted off, he whispered in my ear, ‘Christ, Jack. That was amazing.’ I smiled to myself as I drifted off.
Sunday morning I woke to find him laying propped on one elbow looking at me. When he saw my eyes were open, he smiled and traced a finger down my chest. I couldn’t contain the shiver, which just made his grin wider. He leaned down and kissed me as he ground himself into my thigh. I reached down and grasped him firmly, smiling into his kiss as he thrust against my hand with a moan.
He pulled back after a few minutes and flipped me on my back, then turned around as he straddled me, scooting me to the middle of the mattress. I reached up and took him in my mouth as I felt his lips close over me. For the next while, I was lost in sensation as he made love to me with his mouth. If he hadn’t been over me to thrust into my mouth, I would have forgotten to reciprocate.
The feeling of him swallowing me down and then tracing the tip with his tongue as he drew back was incredible. I’ve always been a bottom and honestly, no one has ever blown me, I couldn’t believe that it was him giving me this pleasure. I came very quickly and he never pulled back but drew me further into his mouth and sucked me dry.
He was still moving in my throat and I grasped his hips and began moving with him, taking him down until the curls at his base tickled my nose. My hands were busy kneading and molding his ass as he moaned and thrust forward faster and faster. All too soon, he pushed down my throat as far as he could and froze as he came. He tasted hot and wild like a summer storm on the Cape and for the first time the taste of another man did not make me nauseous.
We lay panting for several minutes, finally getting up to take a shower, squeezing together into the tiny shower in our bathroom, laughing as we washed each other. We spent the day in our room studying and making love; only leaving to eat.
Last night at bedtime he snuggled in behind my back in the narrow bed, his arms wrapped around me and sleepily murmured ‘good night, Jack.’ I fell asleep the same as the night before; a smile plastered on my face that nothing could remove.
Friday, November 7. 1970
We took our last of our final exams today and I gave Garret the tickets to Vermont, his delighted grin made me feel like a king. I want to give him so much, everything. I’ve moved past infatuation this week and can honestly say I’m in love. I’ve fallen in love with Garret Macy and I’d throw away everything to be with him.
Wednesday, December 24, 1970
I’ve been so busy, I haven’t written a word about all the things Garret and I have done together since the semester break. The ski trip was amazing, the slopes all day, dinner in the best restaurants and best of all the time spent alone in our cabin. A big bed to spread out on and no worrying about other people in the dorm hearing us; the week was incredible.
When we got home, we finished our Christmas shopping together, laughing and joking around the whole time. He even convinced me to take the train to New York for the weekend and check out the shops in Greenwich Village. We wandered through the counter culture haven picking out things for all our friends and I bought him this amazing World War Two bomber jacket in one little place.
He protested that I was spending too much on him, but he looked so good in the coat that I finally managed to convince him to take it. He threw his arms around me and told me he’d always wanted a leather coat. I walked down the street grinning from ear to ear, incredibly happy to be with him and to have made him so happy.
At one point, he talked me into trying on a pair of bell-bottom jeans and squeezed into the dressing room with me. Pulling the new jeans down to my ankles, he informed me that since I looked good enough to eat in them, he would just have to do something about it.
Leaned up against the wall of the dressing room as I looked down at him moving over me, it was all I could do not to scream out with joy as I came. As soon as I caught my breath, I pulled him up and fell to my knees, pulling his pants down and grinning when I realized he’d foregone underwear.
I knelt on the floor and wrapped my lips around him after a soft kiss on the tip. His hands came up and tangled in my hair pulling me further onto him and moving me back and forth very fast. I knew it wouldn’t take long very long to bring him off and the combined smells of the leather coat and him were making me hard all over again.
I reached down to stroke myself in time with the pace he was setting and grabbed my pants from behind him just as we both started to come. Because of the mess, I’d made of my pants I bought the bell-bottoms and wore them out of the store, along with the shirt he’d insisted I get. He said mine really didn’t look right with the new jeans and I’d stand out like a sore thumb.
We prowled the streets looking like every other person in The Village as we finished shopping, except for my short hair, which he’d convinced me to start growing out. I even let him convince me to buy a fringed vest to go with my new shirt and jeans. After a quick shower and change at the hotel, we went to dinner and a show.
I actually scored tickets to Hair and so we sat in the hotel dining room after nearly being refused entry by the maitre’d because of how we were dressed. In my new clothes, I felt very with it. Garret laughed when I told him and said ‘Righteous, Jack or far-out, but not with it.’ He laughed even harder at my blush and told me he loved how out of step I was and enjoyed turning me into a hippie.
The show was fantastic and in the last act, they invited the audience to join them on stage. Several people including Garret stripped down and danced nude with the cast members, and we ended up with an invitation to the after party. We arrived at the address to find a huge warehouse loft in The Village, filled with all sorts of people. The girl in the cast, who’d invited us, introduced us around to those she knew and then wandered off to a mattress in the corner with a very thin model I’d seen just the week before on the cover of one of my mother’s magazines and a tall West Indian guy.
I wandered around like feeling like Alice behind the looking glass as Garret stood in the corner talking music with the assistant director and some guy from the cast. I could see drugs and bottles of booze being passed around and after the fifth person offered me a joint, I decided what the hell. At first, I felt absolutely nothing, but very soon, everything anyone said became much funnier and I found myself giggling. I sat in a corner with a blonde and a redhead who kept plying me with more pot.
A little while later Garret wandered over and I stood up and told him I wanted to dance with him. The redhead told him she wanted to borrow his ‘boyfriend’ for the night and he said it was fine with him but he didn’t think I’d go for it. I looked at her and said ‘I think after Garret you couldn’t possibly measure up.’ Both girls laughed and told Garret his ‘boyfriend’ was cute. He put his arm around me and told them they had no idea what they were missing.
As he led me off to dance, I saw the two of them start making out and remember thinking that this party was way out of my league. We stopped in the middle of the floor, Garret pulled me in close, and we began swaying to the music. I clearly remember the song that was playing it was Fire and Rain by James Taylor. I’ll never forget how it felt to dance with him in a room full of people. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so free.
When the song was over and we began to walk around again, I suddenly had to sit down, the room was spinning around me and I couldn’t feel my legs, but I remember not minding. Garret went to get me something nonalcoholic to drink and while he was gone, my redhead from the corner came over and offered me a hit off another joint. I took it, the next thing I remember was waking up in the hotel room with Garret leaning over me, and the redhead was laughing in the background. ‘What the hell happened?’ I asked him.
He said that I’d passed out after offering to arm-wrestle the redhead, whose name was Jeanette, for who got to sleep with him first that night. I could feel the blush from hearing this all the way to my toes. I tried to sit up to apologize to Jeanette, but she sat on the other side of me and stroked my hair telling me I was just too cute and not to worry about it.
She asked me if I minded if she took me up on my offer and stayed with Garret. I agreed and fell asleep. I woke up sometime later to hear the two of them talking softly beside me on the bed. Someone had stripped me and we were all three under the covers naked, Garret in the middle. When they realized I was awake, they turned to me and he smiled at me asking if I was okay.
I asked Jeannette what was in the pot and she laughed saying it was just some hash. We lay there talking until the sun came up and then took Jeanette back to her place on the way to the train.
When we got back to Boston, I talked to Mother and Father and they’ve agreed to rent an apartment across from campus for us. I don’t think Garret will object since it means no more dorm advisor laying down rules and no curfew. It’s small but it has two bedrooms and a lot more space than our tiny dorm room.
I’ll tell him when I see him tomorrow; my parents have invited him and his mother for Christmas dinner and they’ll be here at eleven. I’ll get to spend Christmas day with him; I just have to be careful how I act around my parents. We’ll be dropping off his mom after dinner and then he’s invited me to a party at his friend’s house.
By the time Maggie gets back from Europe, he’ll be all mine. I can’t see him going back to her whining and pouting when he could be with someone who respects his space. I’m going to do everything I can to show him we should be together.
Wednesday, December 30, 1970
We signed the lease on the apartment yesterday and spent today moving in. I gave Garret the bigger bedroom and a queen size bed. When he asked me why, I said that I figured that if he had anyone over he’d want the extra room. He looked surprised and asked if I was tired of him already. I told him that I’d never be tired of him, but that I knew he liked his space and his freedom and I didn’t want him to feel tied down.
He walked up behind me and pulled me close. He whispered in my ear ‘Jack, you’re amazing. I was afraid when you suggested this apartment you expected some kind of permanent thing between us. Jesus, if you were a woman, I’d marry you.’
I could hardly catch my breath as I told him that I knew he didn’t appreciate being pinned down and enjoyed sleeping around. I went on to tell him that it was cool by me if he trooped half the people at Boston U, through here. I only asked that he let me know if he was having someone stay so that I wouldn’t stumble into someone I didn’t know in the morning.
He looked like a kid who’d been given the keys to the candy store. He started out of the room and then turned and came back. ‘I know what you feel; Jack and I promise I’ll always be honest with you, but you know I don’t feel the same way, right?’
I told him I knew and that it didn’t bother me, but it does. Garret just thinks of me as the friend he sleeps with and I’ve fallen head over heels for him. I knew going into this that he had never been serious about a man, that for him it was just the sex, but for me it’s so much more. I can’t help that my heart is involved and I’m certain that some day he’s going to settle down with some girl and my heart will break. I only hope he picks someone better for him than Maggie, the clingy dimwit.
I called out to him that I was going to grab a nap and went to lay down on my bed, tears burning my eyes. I curled up around my pillow and was miserable for a while. Then about two hours later, he came in and asked me if I wanted some coffee. We sat in the living room and drank coffee watching the snow falling gently outside; as the sun went down, he leaned over and kissed me. “Jack, I don’t want to hurt you, if it gets to be more than you can handle we can back off.’ I leaned against him and said I’d be fine.
I can’t risk losing what I have of him, but I see now that he’ll never be mine. He needs to think of himself as straight and that having sex with another man is just fun, no strings attached physical pleasure. I won’t let it get to me now though; there’ll be enough pain later when he moves on.
I never meant to fall in love with him, but here I am. I know it will end someday, but until then, I’ll take what I can get. I have a feeling the memories of these times will have to last me a long time. I don’t think there will be anyone else after Garret who will come close to touching my soul the way he has. For the first time in my life, I wish I’d been born a woman, so I could keep him.
Friday, January 1, 1971
Neither of us felt like going out for New Years Eve so, we sat here with a bottle of scotch and toasted the New Year in together. Garret even kissed me at midnight and I remembered what my mother used to say; what you do at midnight on New Years you’ll do all year long. I hope that superstition in true.
I suppose I’m still feeling depressed by my sudden epiphany the other day, even though Garret isn’t treating me any differently, I feel like I have to get the most out of every moment with him; file away every look and touch, so that I can look them over later when he’s moved on.
Monday, January 17, 1971
First day of classes and the first day of Garret’s killer class load. He has to be in his first class at 7:00AM and his last class doesn’t end until 5:30PM. On top of everything else, he only has thirty minutes for lunch, it takes him ten minutes to walk from class to the dining hall, and five minutes from the dining hall to his next class, so if he goes through the line, he might get five minutes to eat.
Tomorrow I’ll surprise him by meeting him outside class with his lunch in hand; he’ll grouse and complain, but I know he’ll appreciate it.
Friday, January 21, 1971
Tonight was Garret’s last show with the band. He decided over Christmas break he can’t keep up with classes, rehearsals and gigs. I know it’s killing him to give it up for now, but maybe the war will be over soon and he can go back to his music major.
I couldn’t stand the look on his face after the show tonight; he looked like he was losing his best friend. When we got back home, he sat on his bed and stared into space for a long time. I kept walking past checking on him, finally going in and sitting beside him. As soon as I touched his shoulder, he laid his head over on my stomach and cried.
I laid back and pulled him up beside me holding him until he fell asleep in my arms. I wish things could be different, but the only way he can be assured of staying safe is to follow through with premed and if he flunks out, he’ll be off to boot camp. I know he’s hurting but if I have to choose between him safe and him having his music, I’ll be selfish and choose to have him safe.
Tuesday, February 8, 1971
When I got back to the apartment, Garret was sitting in the living room with the oddest look on his face. I asked what was wrong and he said his best friend’s sister had called and told him that her brother had been killed in Vietnam. He’d been there for two weeks and was shot by a sniper. I tried to get him to talk about it, but he just sat there for hours and finally I had to leave him there and go to bed.
About an hour later, I woke up to him shaking me. I sat up and he looked at me very hollowed-eyed and asked me if he was a coward. I pulled him close and told him he was the bravest man I knew. He had the courage to give up his music for his convictions.
He said he wondered if they were convictions or the posturing of a scared little man. I held him tight and kissed him. I told him that if he couldn’t believe himself, he could believe me.
He pulled back and looked at me for a long moment then kissed me hard, pushing me backward on the bed and reaching down my boxers. He grabbed me and began jerking me off roughly. I didn’t want to respond to it; the experience was to full of anger, painful and not at all like him, but my body didn’t care. I moaned and started thrusting into his hand quickly reaching a climax and before I could catch my breath, he stood up and looked down at me. I’ve never seen a look more filled with self-loathing. He finally spoke, ‘Don’t love me, Jack. You know I’ll only end up hurting you.’
He turned and left the room. Before I could get out of bed, I heard the front door close and he was gone.
Friday, January 11, 1971
No one has seen Garret since he left the apartment on Tuesday. I’ve called all his friends and even his mother. Mrs. Macy told me he was probably off somewhere sulking. I’ve never known such a cold woman; her son is in pain and wandering around doing God knows what and she couldn’t care less.
I’ve spent hours walking from bar to bar in the University area with a picture of him. Several bartenders recognized him, but couldn’t say when they’d last seen him.
Tomorrow I think I’ll start checking out the bars further out and call Jeanette in New York. He might have gone there and if he did maybe, he’s crashing with her. After that, I don’t know what I’ll do; I’m so scared for him, all I can see in my mind is the look in his eyes just before he left. He was so sure, he was worthless that I afraid of what he might do, what he might have already done, but I checked the hospitals and the morgue this morning. The person I talked to at the morgue said he’d call if anyone fitting that description were brought in, so now every time the phone rings I’m almost afraid to pick it up.
Monday, January 14, 1971
Garret’s back. When I came in from my last class, he was sitting in the living room with the lights off. I reached to turn on the lamp and he asked me not to. He looked like hell; he needed a shave and a bath and maybe detox. He smelled like a distillery and looked almost as bad as the bums down in Southie. But he’s home!
After I coaxed him into a shower and fed him take out, I finally asked him where he’d been. He said he didn’t remember much after the third bar Saturday morning, just that he’d awakened this morning in some flophouse with a girl in bed beside him and several scotch bottles on the floor. He’d snuck out before she could wake up and came back home.
He looked at me and said he was sorry for Tuesday night and that he’d understand if I kicked him out. I pulled him close and told him not to be stupid; everybody goes a little crazy sometimes. His arms wrapped around me and I felt his shoulders shake as he began to cry. I’m not sure if the tears were for his friend or for himself, but I held him close until they stopped and he wiped his eyes.
He finally spoke, ‘I don’t understand why you love me, Jack, but I’m glad you’re here.’ I just held him tighter and he kissed me and stood pulling me off the couch and toward the bedroom.
He climbed on the bed and pulled me down beside him. As he kissed along my jaw line, he unbuttoned my shirt, pushed it down my arms and off, and then threw it in the corner. While he turned his attention to the zipper on my pants, I managed to get his shirt off and began teasing his nipples. When I leaned over, pulled one into my mouth, and raked my teeth across it, he hissed and dragged my mouth up to his, kissing me hard and deep.
He managed to push my pants and underwear down to my knees without breaking the kiss and I wriggled the rest of the way out of them as he began kissing his way down my neck. I went to work on his jeans as he nipped the skin below my ear. When my hand finally reached him he was hard and throbbing, I pushed him over on his back and began kissing my way down his chest and stomach, while my hand stroked him.
He thrust up against me and then moved my hand away and caught both of mine in his and held them as he flipped me over on my back, slid down and took me in his mouth. I lay there gasping and moaning under his lips as he swallowed me all the way down and stayed there working his throat muscles as I sobbed out with the feel of him.
One of his hands let go of mine and I ran my hand through his hair as I watched what he was doing to me. Suddenly I felt his fingers in his mouth along side me and I fumbled in the drawer for the lube. When I finally found it by feel, I turned back to see his deep brown eyes staring into mine as he moved over me. Having him look me in the eye as he deep throated me almost sent me over the edge and I lay there transfixed by his gaze, the lube dangling in my nerveless fingers.
He took the lube from my hand and squeezed some onto his fingers without missing a beat. When I felt his lube slicked fingers rubbing across me, I moaned and then gasped as one and then two entered me, quickly finding and massaging my prostate. He stroked me repeatedly in time with each downward movement of his mouth. When he pushed a third finger inside me, I felt the familiar tingling sensation in my groin and knew I couldn’t stand another moment; I came, moaning and thrusting into his mouth.
After I finally came back down from the sex induced high, he crawled up beside me and kissed me. I couldn’t believe how erotic it was to taste myself on his tongue as he thrust it into my mouth. I started to kiss my way down his chest but he pulled me back up to his mouth and ground his lips against mine. He pulled back and breathlessly said, ‘I want you to fuck me this time, Jack.’
‘You don’t have to bottom just to make up for the other night, Garret.’ I replied. ‘I told you, it wasn’t important. Forget it.’
‘It wasn’t ‘nothing’. I treated you like a piece of meat and you deserve more than that, Jack. You done nothing but love me and never asked for anything in return. Besides that’s not the reason.’ he said rubbing himself against my thigh. ‘I want to know how it feels for you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It started with something Jeannette said that night in New York about how most men could never understand why women equate sex with love. She said most men don’t know what it feels like to have someone inside their body, to give that kind of control to another person, to allow that level of intimacy. I’ve been curious ever since, so…’ He handed me the lube and turned over, spreading his legs and pushing a pillow under his hips. I looked at that incredible ass in front of me offered up for me to ravish and swallowed hard.
‘Um, Garret, I’ve never topped before.’ I stammered feeling as if I were admitting I was a virgin to a bunch of high school boys.
He laughed deep in his throat and answered. ‘I guess we’ll both be trying something new then, won’t we Jack.’
If it were anyone else I’d have sworn they were laughing at me; I’ve always hated being laughed at but Garret never makes me feel that way. His laughter invites me to join him in the joke and makes me feel like something I’d never been before, as though I were part of the in crowd instead of on the outside as the butt of their jokes. It’s almost like being best friends with the coolest guy in high school, something I’m sure Garret was. You know the type, the guy who always knows the newest slang and swaggers around as if he owns the school.
I laughed nervously, applied the lube to my fingers, and rubbed them across the tight little pucker between his cheeks. He clenched at first then visibly relaxed and sighed as I began to tease his opening. As he relaxed more and began to moan, I pushed one finger through the ring of muscles and worked it slowly in. He was so tight at first I began to doubt this would work, but as I moved the finger slowly in and out, he began to loosen until I was able to add another one. Over the next ten or fifteen minutes, I worked my fingers back and forth inside him and eventually added a third.
At first, he flinched and tensed up, but began to relax almost immediately and soon was thrusting back against my hand as I manipulated him and found his prostate. When I stroked over it the first time, he groaned and writhed, pushing harder against my fingers. I pushed my little finger inside as well and the only response he gave was to moan deeper.
I knew he was as ready as he was going to be for his first time. I pulled my hand away gently and applied lube all over myself, then positioned the head of my cock against the tight little rosebud. I reached around and stroked him as I pushed forward gently. When the head slid in he gasped and I froze waiting for him to relax again before slowly pushing forward.
At each gasp, I would stop and wait for him. I couldn’t believe how tight he felt around me; I could feel his pulse throbbing around me as his muscles clenched, stroking me. Finally, I was buried in his ass to the hilt; both of us lay there gasping and moaning. He began to push back against me and I pulled back slowly until just the head was inside him. As I surged forward carefully, he lost all patience and pushed back against me hard and then winced and groaned in pain at the too fast movement. I stayed very still and continued stroking him with my hand until he relaxed.
I leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck. ‘Are you ready?’ I whispered and he nodded not speaking. Having been in his position, I understood. The first time it’s all you can do to catch your breath; the only question is whether the feeling is cause by pain, pleasure or a mix of both. I was being careful because I knew the pain aspect far too well, until Garret, none of my lovers had been particularly gentle and I didn’t want to hurt him. He’d hurt himself far too much already in the last few days and I had a feeling he wasn’t done hurting himself; I wasn’t going to add physical pain to it as well.
I began moving gently back and forth inside him and his moans became so frequent it was hard to distinguish one from the other. I kept up pumping him with my hand in time to my thrusts and rubbing my thumb across the sensitive head on each upstroke. After an endless time I felt him begin to tremble under me and he came with a low growl that rumbled through him forever.
I started thrusting faster and he thrust back against me hard until we were moving faster than I thought possible; the only sounds in the room were our moans and skin slapping skin. Finally, I couldn’t hold off any longer, pushed deep inside him, and froze shuddering as I emptied myself inside him. As I returned to my senses I realized he’d come a second time with me.
I eased out of him, knowing full well he’d be feeling his stretched and abused muscles any moment. I fell onto the bed beside him and pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around me and winced as he slid closer.
He chuckled painfully and looked at me. ‘Jesus, Jack, how can you be so relaxed afterwards if your ass hurts like this?’
I reached up and stroked his hair out of his face. ‘It doesn’t hurt, at least not anymore. It’s one of those things you get used to, like doing a hundred push-ups in Physical Training.’ I said mentioning the only course I had any trouble passing, at least until Garret started working out with me and motivating me.
‘I sure as hell have never hurt there after push-ups.’ He grinned and kissed me. ‘That was incredible, I’ve never felt so…’
I understood exactly what he meant. ‘Beats the hell out of PT, huh?’ I joked and he laughed and winced.
‘Shit.’ He cursed at the pain.
‘That won’t feel real comfortable either for the next few hours.’ I couldn’t resist the jibe. I was almost giddy with relief that he was back and safe.
‘Keep it up Slokum and I will tell the coach you’ve been slacking off on warm-ups.’ He jokingly threatened.
‘Man, you are a vicious bastard. I thought sex was supposed to release endorphins and make you happier.’ I just couldn’t stop myself from laughing and after a moment he joined me, wincing a little, which of course made me laugh harder.
I laid there with him until he fell asleep and then got up to study, sitting at the desk in his room so I could look over from time to time just to reassure myself he really had come back. I had trouble concentrating, finally giving up entirely and lay back down beside him. He reached for me and pulled me close mumbling my name and smiling in his sleep.
‘God,’ I thought, ‘I think he does love me, but unless he can admit it to himself, he’s still going to break my heart; probably when Maggie comes back from Italy.’
However, I don’t care; I’ll take what I can get for as long as I can. Even if it means sleeping with him after he marries her or whatever woman he ends up with, but I know one thing for sure, no one will ever understand him or love him as I do.
Thursday, February 14, 1971
I’m so depressed, today all over campus, the straight couples are gushing over each other with love and I can’t tell Garret how I feel. I’ve never gotten a box of chocolate or even a Valentine’s card at least not since the third grade when Bobby Lowell stole all of mine and threw them in the drainage ditch. No one has ever told me they loved me on Valentine’s Day. I think I’ll skip my afternoon classes and sleep the rest of the day.
Thursday, February 14, 1971 9PM
Forget what I wrote earlier! When I woke up from my nap there was a red rose on my pillow beside my head; no note, nothing else, but I know who it’s from. He loves me, even if he can’t say it, he loves me. He’s not here, he had to go out of town for a cousin’s wedding, but he left me a rose. I always thought people who pressed flowers were crazy, but I called my mother and asked her what you’re supposed to do. She thought I was nuts, so I told her one of my study partners boyfriends, had given her a rose she wanted to press. As soon as I got off the phone, I did just what she said except for one petal, which I put in my wallet so I can have a part of him with me all the time. I love Valentine’s Day.
Sunday, February 17, 1971
Garret came back this afternoon and as soon as he dropped his bags he grabbed me and told me, he missed me. He kissed me until my mouth was swollen and dragged me back to the bedroom. For the very first time we made love face to face. I can’t tell you what it felt like to be able to look into his eyes as he moved inside me.
When he looked at me, I could see what he felt in his eyes and it’s not just sex anymore, no matter what he tries to tell himself. I may never have had anyone look at me that way before, but I know what love looks like.
He may never realize it, but I know now that a least a part of him will always be mine. I’ll still have to let him go eventually, but for now at least, he loves me and I think that now it will be easier to lose him. Because now I know that, at least for a while he truly loved me. It will still hurt but not like knowing that I was only a friend he slept with. If only I could hear him say it just once, acknowledge what he feels, but I don’t think he can, because that would mean admitting he’s bi and I don’t believe he can do that and maintain his self image.
But if he’d say it just once I’d live on it for the rest of my life. There are times when I have to bite my lip not to say it out loud. I know that he already knows how I feel, but I wish I felt I could say it to him. Sometimes I sit in my room when he thinks I’m studying and I can’t stop the tears from falling like some silly heartbroken teenaged girl.
I’ve never felt this way before and after he’s gone I don’t know if I want to risk feeling this way again; I’m too vulnerable like this, to easy to hurt. I don’t think love is worth this kind of pain.