Two Southern Gentlemen Ch. 16

Content/trigger warning: This series contains bullying, homophobic language, and non-consensual sexual acts, but they are integral to the plot and character development so please take them in context.

DUSTY

I'm at the lake and waiting for him. Jesse.

It's early September so it's still plenty warm out, but my heartbeat is going at a pretty good clip and I'm actually kind of shaking a little with nerves. Yeah, the tough football star is feeling nervous, pretty damn nervous in fact. I'm in my swimming trunks again and the heat has already dried me off pretty nearly. I got here a little before 9, so I'm guessing it's around 9:30 by now. Even though he said he'd be here after 9 I'm not too worried about him being late. He said he would be here, and I know that means he will be. And I'm glad for the extra time, 'cause fuck if I'm not still trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to say.

As I sit I'm remembering how slowly the rest of the second half of the summer went. Trying to fit back into my old life was like a snake trying to wriggle back into its shed skin, like trying to get toothpaste back into the tube. I tried to forget everything about him, Jesse, but football practice was starting up and everyone was expecting me to be the same old Dusty, and Misty kept after me, and all my friends wanted to meet up and drink and smoke weed and party. Having to pretend to be the same old Dusty was a real bitch. It was really, really hard. There wasn't much danger of me actually turning back into the old Dusty, but all that pretending I had to do, it definitely took a toll.

So try as I might, I just couldn't stop thinking about him. I needed the thought of him to keep me sane. Now I know this sounds creepy and stalker-y as all hell, but I took to keeping a copy of that yearbook picture in my wallet, hidden pretty well behind all the other crap in there. Whenever I felt that anxiety sneaking up on me, when I was feeling myself unable to keep living that big fat ol' lie of my old life, when the walls were closing in and all of that pressure was threatening to suffocate me, just touching my wallet, knowing that his picture was hidden in there, it was like a talisman, a good luck charm. It helped me get through it. It's still helping me. That man's goodness, his strength, it helps me believe that there is good in the world, real good inside real people. That picture has been my anchor, my port in the storm. I know it sounds creepy, but in my room at night sometimes I would take it out and look at it a little, and it really helped me keep going. I kept hoping he's forgiven me for everything I did to him. I really hope he has.

I thought that would be enough, just being able to think of him, and I was planning on staying away from him forever. But every day I thought more and more that I shouldn't have just left things with him the way I did. Yeah, I was spooked that night, spooked really badly, that last time I saw him during the summer. But I was hoping that at some point I would find a way to, I don't know, apologize to him again. Show him I'd changed, that I wasn't going to be a bully ever again. But talking with him in person would be too dangerous. I was already too close to the edge keeping his picture and thinking about him so much. But looking at his picture was way safer than actually being near him in person again. I thought maybe I could write him a note or something, get a better kind of closure to the whole thing.

But then Joe, that idiot Joe, he forced the issue, he unknowingly pushed me beyond the walls I had set up around me in my head, pushed me beyond what I had planned. Seeing Jesse in danger like that, Joe laying his dirty hands on him, I saw red, I freaked the fuck out. But when I hugged him, Jesse, without thinking, even for a couple of seconds, I knew then how much he means to me and that a picture ain't gonna be enough. Hell, I'm not even sure what he means to me, I barely even know him really. I just knew at that moment that I can't leave it, that I had to see him again, had to talk to him in person, face to face. And then I had to go and say that I wanted to talk with him tonight. I hadn't planned it out at all, and dammit, I've been wracking my brain all day and I still don't know what I'm going to say. I don't even really know where to begin, or how to get through this without him thinking I'm a complete idiot.

I hear him coming through the underbrush, and too soon he's standing up and brushing the dead leaves and grass off of him.

"Sorry I'm late," he's saying. "I had to--"

"I'm not gay," I blurt out. Oh, hell! That's the first thing you've got to say? You idiot! I'm kicking myself for how stupid I sound. Great way to start things off, Dusty. You're a real smooth talker.

Something flickers over his face and is gone, but he takes my words in stride and says calmly, "I never said you were."

I'm standing like a big idiot and I'm not sure where to look or how to act and my limbs just feel plain awkward, and he looks over at me and gives me a sort of sympathetic smile.

"You look as fidgety as a grasshopper. Why don't we sit," he says as cool and as gracious as a Southern belle hosting a dinner party.

I plop down onto the ground and sit cross-legged. He's wearing cut-offs and a t-shirt again and he takes a seat kind of near me but not too close. He's sitting with his knees up a little and his arms are kind of wrapped around them, and I have to resist the urge to reach out my hand and touch his arm or his leg, like I want to make sure he's actually here sitting next to me 'cause I still can't quite believe it after thinking about him so much these past couple of months.

I still can't think of what to say, and now that he's here I'm trying to sort through my feelings, since other than this afternoon it's been so long since I've seen him in person this close. It feels like a lifetime ago since we were here last. I'm happy to see him, even though I'm also feeling really nervous. I'm excited about getting to talk with him, and even though I'm excited, seeing him also relaxes me. I feel more relaxed with him than I have for months. Like I can be myself for once. Like I don't have to pretend to be the old Dusty around him.

He's waiting patiently, like he can imagine that I have a lot on my mind.

"Thanks again for helping me out today," he says as a conversation starter.

"Sure. I mean, of course."

"What's going to happen with Joe?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is he all right? Are you two going to still be friends?"

"Joe's fine. He was only out for a minute. He knows the pecking order, he knows he stepped out of line and did wrong. This ain't the first time he's gone too far. He'll get over it, same as before."

Jesse doesn't look completely satisfied, and I guess from the outside it does sound kind of weird, but that's how things work in our world, how football works. There's a hierarchy, and Joe stepped out of line and got smacked down for it, plain and simple.

"So... What'd you want to talk about?" he asks casually.

My mind is still churning, but I've got to say something. But what can I say that wouldn't just sound weird?

"Sorry... I'm actually not really sure what to say." Ugh, I sound like an idiot! "I'm still trying to figure things out in my head. One thing I wanted to say for sure is, I wanted to apologize to you again. I know I did you wrong up to now, that there's absolutely no way you would want anything more to do with me, but I want you to know I want to be a better person. I've been trying to be. Honest."

He looks at me with those warm hazel eyes of his, and he says sincerely, "I'm really glad to hear that."

"I keep thinking about you," I blurt out again. Sweet Mary Mother of God! I immediately feel embarrassed and feel myself blushing, but he just looks back at me quietly and seriously.

"I've... been thinking about you too," he says.

I feel a sudden rush of hope fill me up with a warm feeling. Hope for what? I really want to know what he's been thinking about me, but I'm too much of a pussy to ask.

At this point I'm just thinking out loud, I barely even really know what I'm saying.

"I've been thinking about how you weren't going to post the video, how good you are."

He shrugs as if to deflect my words. "Most anyone in the same situation would have done the same thing, I expect," he replies.

"Nuh uh, you're wrong. Most people would have destroyed my life without a second thought. And I deserved it. You're much better than me. I've... I've been a bully all my life I guess, but I only just really understood what that all meant because of you. You're strong. And you have... principles."

"I'm not a saint. I'm just trying to get by, just like everybody else."

"No, you're strong, and you're good."

"Right. Sure," he says. Jesse's clearly not buying it.

"Really. I'm not the only one who thinks that. I've been... watching you at school for the past few weeks." I feel myself blushing a little again at another embarrassing confession. "People look up to you. They listen to you."

"What are you talking about?" he says, and he really doesn't know what I'm talking about.

"No, really. People are drawn to you, I'm not the only one. I think they must have always looked up to you, but you just pushed them away before. I don't know, maybe this year you've been... more approachable. You seem more... more confident. More external, more outward, instead of so inward. Do you know what I mean?"

He thinks about it for a minute, and what I'm saying does seem to sort of make more sense to him.

"I guess I kind of do," he says.

He sees me waiting for more of an explanation, so he continues.

"I guess I thought kids were staying away from me because they didn't want to get beat up too. But maybe I was the one making them stay away. Maybe I was trying to protect them from you and your crew. Or... maybe I just didn't see why they would want to hang out with poor white trash like me."

I'm excited that he's being so open with me, but my heart is also hurting at how much I've ruined his life, not just physically, but emotionally, socially... He sees my expression of remorse, so he adds, "It's not all your fault. I was never that confident even before high school. I guess I was kind of a shy kid in general growing up, especially after my momma died."

I nod, and the urge to reach out and touch him is stronger than ever. I have to hold my hand down with my other hand to stop myself.

"But you know what," he says thoughtfully, turning to look at me directly. "I think you helped me change that."

"Me?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. When you... obeyed... me... I thought, here's a guy who's popular and strong and... good-looking... obeying me. It meant something to me. I got to thinking... Maybe you see something in me that I don't see myself. Maybe I'm not completely worthless."

"You're not worthless!" I say quickly. I got a little distracted by him calling me good-looking, but now that he's brought up that night I feel like my lips have been loosened a little bit.

"I've been thinking a lot about that night... I haven't been able to stop thinking about it," I say, watching him closely in case he doesn't want to keep talking about it, in case he doesn't want to hear all of my honesty, which quite frankly, is kind of pouring out of me and would be scaring the shit out of me if I stopped to think about it. "I felt... I don't know. Something strong. Something I've never felt before. Maybe you've had a lot more of that kind of experience than I have?"

I pause and look at him to see what he says. He's looking a little guarded, like he's not sure where I'm going with this (I don't even know that). Anyway, he shakes his head no, which makes me feel a little relieved somehow. I keep going, still sort of just thinking out loud, hoping that just saying what I feel will be enough for me to accomplish whatever I was hoping would get accomplished or resolved.

"I don't know what it was, but it felt... right. I've been trying to fight it, everything I felt that night, with you. I've never felt like that before. I... want to feel it again." I pause again, amazed at being able to confess all of these feelings to Jesse, still basically a stranger. But that's the thing, he doesn't feel like a stranger at all. He's still watching me, but his expression has opened up some. He's really listening to what I'm saying, and he seems to get it, although his expression still doesn't tell me anything about what he feels about that night.

"I know I got freaked out and had to leave, but I've been thinking a lot about it. You know how alcoholics are addicted to drink, even though it's bad for them? And they say that gays are like alcoholics and you should love the sinner but hate the sin. But, you've helped me, you've changed me, you've made me a better person. So thinking about what good came out of what happened that night, thinking about that, and thinking about you can't be a sin then, can it?"

"I guess most people around here would say it is," he says kind of resigned. "I don't really know. I'm not that religious."

"I ain't really religious either, so it's not like I'm fearing hell. I don't hate gay people. They can do what they want, do their own thing. You know, we may be living in the backwoods of Georgia, but this is the 21st century after all. But all that stuff, that gay lifestyle and stuff, that's not for me, you know? I can't deal with all of that shit. Can you understand that?"

I'm speaking kind of fast and kind of intensely. The guarded look has come back to his face and I feel like I'm losing ground, but I have to get all of this off my chest. Jesse nods that he understands.

"And all of my dreams for the future, of playing football. That's the one thing I've always wanted, wanted more than anything else, ever since I was a little kid. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I get it," he says, and I can't tell what he's thinking.

I sit back a little and take a deep breath and exhale. After all that verbal diarrhea, all that openness and confessing, I feel a little spent to be honest, but it felt good to get all of that out there. There's a long, long pause. My mind is still going in a hundred directions at once, but I'm so jumbled up inside I can't for the life of me think what to say next.

Finally Jesse gently, not impatient at all even though I've been babbling this whole time, he just very quietly asks me:

"Dusty. What is it that you want?"

I feel a thrill again at hearing him say my name, but I try to focus and think, really think. Now that we're both back here face to face again for the first time in months, what do I want? My mind is just a confused mess, and then there's what my body wants, what my instincts are saying I want, what I feel like I should be doing or not doing, all the guilt and remorse I feel about the past, all of my dreams for the future, of playing football...

What do I want?

If I'm really honest with myself, I want to try picking up where we left off that last time, but what then...? Maybe we could just focus on sex for now. Maybe I can just try it once, maybe I can experiment with some of that stuff, see how I like it. But I don't want to use him either, just so I can experiment. But he seemed like he enjoyed it.. But all of that stuff, it freaked me out before, and it sure as hell still scares the shit out of me now. I don't want to start something and not be able to go through with it, like last time. That would be worse than not doing anything at all. I would never want to hurt him in any way...

What do I want?

Maybe I should tell him just how much I've been thinking about him, that I've been carrying his picture around. No, he would just think I'm a psycho. I can't imagine what being gay is like. I don't want to date him or anything. For one thing, I don't think he would ever be able to think of me romantically anyway, given all the shit I've done to him. And even though I've been thinking about him a lot, I can't think of getting with him romantically either, that's just too fucking weird and too fucking gay.

I guess I just want to spend time near him. It could just be sitting and talking like this. It could be getting pissed on. It could even be exploring real sex, even though it freaks me out, so be it, if that's the only way to get to spend time with him, anything would be better than nothing. That magnetic pull, in my head, in my body, in my heart, it's so, so strong... I just want to be near him.

He said it so simply: what is it that I want? It should be a simple answer to a simple question.

Trying to sort through all these different thoughts and emotions isn't helping. In my mind I step back and try to look at the whole picture. No, not even look. Just feel... Stop thinking something so much. Stop worrying so much. Just feel...

What do I want?

What do I want?

What do I want?

...

...

...

Without even realizing it I almost have a prayer half-formed on my lips, and then suddenly, like a lightning bolt crashing down from the heavens to the earth, it does become clear, crystal clear. And the epiphany, it's so simple, it almost makes me laugh. It's as if the answer was staring me in the face the whole time.

I say the words with wonder and revelation just as they're dawning over me.

"What I want," I find myself saying looking straight at him, "is for you to tell me what to do."

Jesse frowns and looks very serious, and his seriousness would be making me nervous if I wasn't so certain of what I'm feeling.

"Do you know why I stopped last time?" he asks me. "Why I didn't make you take my dick?"

I know exactly what he's referring to. That instant when I looked up at him and was almost hoping he would push his dick into my waiting mouth. "It's because you're not a bully like me," I say.

"Yes, I didn't want to force you at all, but it's more than that," he says. "It's because I can't be the one to decide if you're gay or straight or whatever. You have to figure that out for yourself. You have to decide what you want."

I can't help smiling, I feel so relieved that I finally know my own mind.

"No, you don't understand," I say almost cutting him off in my eagerness to explain. "I have decided. I want what you want. I mean, I want to do whatever you want me to do. I want you to tell me what to do, and I'll do it. I will do whatever you tell me to do, anything, do you understand? Last time, when I was pretending I had to do what you told me to do? It's like that, except this time it's not pretending, it's for real. Anything you want, everything you want. If you want me to pleasure you with my body, I'll do it. Or if you... if you want me to hurt someone else, or hurt myself, I'll do it. Or if you just want me to wash your dishes and scrub your floors or keep your house for you, I'll do it. Anything. Because I respect you so much, I look up to you so much. I trust you, so, so much. I know you would never want me to do anything bad, or want anything bad to happen to me, or anything bad to happen to anyone else. You're so good. I want to serve you. Completely."

I'm almost glowing in my certainty, the complete absence of doubt. But Jesse is silent and has a weird expression on his face, like he's trying to process what he's hearing, I'm turning things over in my own mind, my mind racing at a hundred miles a minute.

Trust, that's what it's all about, I'm thinking to myself while still watching him. I've never felt this complete level of trust with another person. Trust born out of respect and admiration. Maybe I lost my trust, my faith, when my momma left, realizing my daddy, my childhood hero, was a wife beater, and when I learned that, then I saw all the other ways he wasn't a good person, and it was like everything I knew about my world just completely collapsed, shattered into a million tiny pieces. Maybe I'd lost my ability to trust anyone at that point. But with him, with Jesse, I respect him so much. I know I can truly, deeply trust this man. This level of trust, it's different from when I obeyed him before. Before, I was obeying orders, submitting, yes, but I was caught up in the moment without fully understanding what it really meant. I wasn't able to let himself be controlled completely, which is why I ran away after I touched his dick. But now, when I look at him, I have so much trust. I trust that he'll keep what we do a secret, that he'll do the right thing, that he would never harm me. I trust in his goodness. I trust him completely. And I want to serve this person I trust and respect so much.