[Fiction] Shadow of the Cross

[foow]

Chapter 1: Church Music

My inherent distrust of religion was solidified for me completely on a cool October night in Burlington, Vermont. Deciding that I needed to take a break from my studies, I had gone with a few Christian friends to volunteer at a soup kitchen at a large, modern church in the middle of the city. While I was sceptical of any activity taking place at a church—especially one of those big mega-churches—my friends promised me that the only religious thing I'd experience would be the grace, and when that came along I'd just have to close my eyes and pretend I was focusing on the divine.

And, for the most part, they were right. The meal was served with hardly a mention of God, and I found myself too busy with preparing food, cleaning plates and interacting with a whole bunch of really, really nice homeless people to even notice the big posters with Bible quotes hanging around the well-maintained gymnasium. I actually began to admire the church for holding these weekly meals, and was trying to determine if I could make it out every week, or at least once a month.

My admiration was short-lived. As we were finishing with the last of the dishes, one of the organizers invited—with the same amount of force that a mother would “invite” her kid to clean his room—to a worship service in the church's main sanctuary. I, of course, wanted nothing to do with such a service, and I had about a million things to take care of before getting back to school and work the next day, but my two friends were game and gave me no option to escape.

We were led by the enthusiastic organizer through a series of hallways. “Thanks a lot,” I hissed to Ryan and Mark, the two responsible for bringing me there in the first place. “I was just thinking how much fun it'd be to skip out on my work and spend two hours praying to a god who isn't there.”

“Relax Jord,” Ryan said. “I've been here before. It's actually really cool, and it doesn't take long.”

“Besides,” Mark added, “there might be some smokin' girls there.”

He chuckled, and I laughed with him, but I really couldn't have cared less. Though I gave off a straight, masculine image, I had absolutely no interest in girls. I liked guys. I guess that made me gay, but I didn't like attaching the label to myself. To me, and to most people, gay was a whole personality—someone who's gay not only likes the same sex, but also dresses well, can decorate an entire house, is rather weak physically and emotionally, and has a nasally lisp with every word he says. It's an unfair stereotype, but it wasn't one I wanted others to put on me. I could barely dress myself, I was the star left-defenseman of the hockey team, and spoke without any sort of accent. No one suspected that I wasn't straight, and I was fine to keep them believing that.

A few of my closest friends did know, as did the few guys I'd hooked up with since taking one hell of a brave leap about a year before, but beyond that I was Jord, the straight engineer and athlete. And I was perfectly fine with that. Sort of.

“Forget it,” I said, spotting an exit. “I'm out of here.”

“No!” Mark grabbed my shoulder. “C'mon, just try it.” He grinned. “I dare you.”

I sighed. The three of us, along with a few other friends, had been doing an informal dare tournament since our first year at college, and we'd reached a point where no one could ever turn down a dare, regardless of its safety or humiliation. Most of them focused around extreme stunts, like jumping off the rez roof into a huge pile of snow (which was so awesome) or riding a bike across a tiny bridge over a raging river (not so much). But this was new, and, I had to admit, rather crafty.

“Seriously?” I asked. “That's low, man.”

He shrugged. “A dare's a dare. Now let's go.” He pretty-much dragged me into the sanctuary, with Ryan behind us.

I'd been expecting a traditional church with stained-glass windows, rows of pews and a big organ at the front— all the weddings and funerals I'd attended had been in that setting. But this was something different entirely. The sanctuary looked more like a theatre, with rows upon rows of cushioned chairs, each on a different level to give everyone a view. A huge light system, which had to rival the ones on Broadway, hung above the stage, which itself was home to a live band playing some rather generic music. I counted three guitar players, two basses, a drummer, a handful of brass instruments, a guy in front of a turntable, and at least three singers. Occupying the first sets of rows were a bunch of clean-cut teens and young adults. I snorted a laugh. At least, with my baby face and short blonde hair, I'd fit in, despite now being twenty.

We took our seats amid a group of teenage girls, each clutching a pink Bible, as the minister took to the mic and invited us to rise and “join in praising our Gawd.” The band began to play a set of Christian worship songs, which were pretty catchy and kinda fun, but meant absolutely nothing to me. I can't say that for the others in the room, though. All around me, people had their hands in the air and their faces contorted as they sung how God was “love from above, the only One who gave His Son.” I tried to look as natural as possible, but once Ryan threw his arms up and started crying during one of the songs, it became really, really hard for me to not laugh. Instead, I focused on the two hundred people I didn't know and wondered what on earth they were thinking.

It was in the final song of the set, when I had become fully-bored with the bland lyrics, that I saw him. He was two rows ahead of me and about ten chairs to the right, standing amid a gaggle of girls. He caught my eye immediately. I felt my body take several short breaths as my mind took in his beauty. He wasn't too short or tall, but he was slim, with a black, striped button-up shirt hugging his torso tightly. He had long, black shiny hair that fell just over his ears and covered his right eye. As he lifted his hands in the air, he exposed his lower back and side, revealing some firm, toned muscle above his dark-blue boxers. I had to forcefully close my eyes and open them again to ensure I wasn't making this up in my head. I wasn't. I was looking at the cutest, hottest boy I'd ever seen.

The song finished, and we invited to take our seats. I slowly sat back down, keeping my eyes on him as I did. His head turned in my direction and he pushed his hair away, revealing a set of sparkling blue eyes. I—a calm, collected young man who rarely reacted strongly to anything—had to do all I could to contain myself. I felt like one of those girls at the Twilight conventions, who can't get enough of Edwin or Jacky or whatever their names are. I leaned back and took a few deep breaths, telling myself to just wait until the service was over, and then I'd be able to introduce myself to him. Somehow.

As the preacher took the stage again, a sudden revelation occurred to me. This boy was gay. Despite my lack of gay tendencies, I happened to have excellent gaydar, which I realized when I around 12 and had asked my parents if Neil Patrick Harris had a boyfriend (he came out of the closet three years later). I'd never been wrong before, and I was certain I wasn't wrong now. Maybe the vibes were coming from his excellently-worn clothes or the fact that his hair was a bit too perfect, but they were there and this kid was absolutely, 100%, like me. I wondered if he liked me.

The preacher railed on about the evils of pornography, and if I had subscribed to any of the bull I probably would have felt super-guilty. But I paid no attention. My head was pointed toward the stage, with my eyes shifted to the left. Sweet mercy, this boy was hot. The half of his face that I could see had a perfect complexion, completely smooth and free of any markings. His hair was actually glistening under the lights. It was like someone had drawn the image of the ideal young man and then turned him real. Oh, the things I could do to him. I grabbed a Visitor Bible and opened it over my lap as my body reacted to my imagination.

He seemed to be listening intently, but I found pleasure in thinking that he was dreaming about hot guys the way I currently was. That lucky son-of-a-bitch, he got to look at himself naked! And he had to looked good. This was clearly a boy who took care of himself.

The minister wrapped up his sermon and said a quick prayer, then invited us to “greet each other in the Name of Christ.” Greet each other? As in, meet? I nearly jumped out of my seat as everyone else rose. I patted Mark and Ryan on the back and murmured something about Thor blessing them, then headed toward my target.

“Hi!”

A lively, tall girl, about my age, stepped in front of me and offered her hand. “What's your name?”

“Uh, Jord.” I offered my hand and looked over. The boy was offering one-armed hugs to a bunch of the girls. The phony.

“Hi Jord! I'm Amber! Is this your first time at The Rock?”

“Uh, yeah.” I tried to edge around her, but she couldn't seem to tell.

“That's awesome! We have so much fun worshipping God here. How long has it been since you gave your life to Jesus?”

I shrugged. “Twenty years. Nice to meet you.” Like a good hockey player, I deked around her and got myself closer to him, only to be stopped by a few other, not-nearly-as-attractive, boys, each who offered me the “Hand of Fellowship.” By the time the band was back up and playing a new song, I was still a good fifteen feet from Mr. Hottie, who'd already gone back to singing. It was too late to introduce myself. I sighed sadly and went back to my seat.

Two songs later, the minister ended the service with a final prayer and the house lights came back on. I threw my coat on and again tried to make my way to the boy, but the group he was in was out the door in a hurry. I chased after them, only to get lost in the maze of halls that led outside. After a few minutes of wandering around, I knew that my chances of finding him were null. I tried to cheer myself up by saying that I could come back next week, but I really didn't want to sit through another service, and I really wanted to know who this boy was right now.

My cell phone buzzed as I walked back toward the sanctuary. Ryan had sent me a text asking where I was. I started typing a response, but as I turned a corner, with all my attention on my phone, I crashed into another person coming the other way, knocking him right over. He landed on his back, his straight black hair going in all directions. I pulled my cell phone away from my face and went to apologize, but the words failed to come out of my mouth.

It was him. I'd knocked him down.

“I—I'm so sorry,” I blurted out. I took a step forward, wanting to offer my hand, but then realized I didn't know him, so it'd be weird, and I pulled back.

“Oh, no, it's my fault,” he said, picking himself up and dusting off his tight black shirt, which I now saw had thin silver stripes going down it. “I should have seen where I was going.”

“But I was texting. You know what they say: don't text and walk.” And at that point, I had to resist the urge to slap myself for such a stupid comment. Don't text and walk? Seriously, me?

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess.” His voice was developed, but still a bit squeaky. “Were you just in worship?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it was great. Really brought me close to God.” Well, it brought me closer to what I was now considering to be God.

“Good. I like it there too.”

I grinned, like an idiot, for a few seconds before offering my hand. “I'm Jord.”

He shook it in his soft, yet firm, hand. “Josh.”

Josh. What a name. The first half of it identical to mine. The last part, “sh,” like saying “shush, and let's keep this relationship our secret.” He could not have a better name. And yet, I only knew his first name, and now I silently cursed at myself for not using my last name, so that he'd be inclined to give his and I could look him up on Facebook.

“Anyway,” Josh said, motioning past me awkwardly. “I have to go. My mom's picking me up.”

“Cool. Hey, it was great to meet you. Josh.” I cleared my throat. “Oh, how old are you?” Subtlety is not my strong suit.

“I'm sixteen. You're about the same, I guess?”

“Sure. Well, no. I'm twenty.”

He laughed. “An old-timer, then! I'm just kidding. Hahaha.” He looked to the side, and then back at me. “It was great to meet you too. Will you be back here next week?” His voice rose significantly at the end, showing a lot of hope in the question.

“Definitely,” I said. “I didn't know anyone this week, but—”

“You can sit with me next time!” Josh interrupted, sounding way more excited than he probably wanted. “I'll save you a seat.”

“Good.” An uncontrollable grin came across my face. “I'll be there. Can't wait.”

“Me neither. Bye Jord.” Josh dashed past me and down the hall. As soon as he was out of view, I collapsed against the wall, breathed deeply, and raised my hands in the air. That was more than I had ever hoped for. I had his name, his attention, and most importantly, a space right next to him at the next service, a week from now.

After letting my mind process the whole thing, I found my way back to the sanctuary, where Ryan and Mark were waiting for me. “I thought you wanted to get out of here,” Mark said impatiently.

“I do. Let's go.” I followed them out to the parking lot, where a blue sedan was just pulling away. I spotted a full head of shiny black hair above the passenger seat headrest.

“Well Jord, you managed to complete the dare,” Mark said as we climbed in his truck. “Now you never have to come back here again.”

“But I want to,” I said. “Next week.”

Ryan gasped audibly. “Are you serious? What happened to you?”

Mark started the truck and we headed back to campus. I shrugged. “I guess you can say I had an experience with the divine.”

We changed subjects on the ride home, and after they dropped me off at my apartment I took a long time making a late-night snack, and then a much, much longer time lying in bed, trying to sleep.

The next week could not come soon enough.

[daremaster 1]

Awsome start, really good and long. There will be more chapters right?

[foow]

Well, considering that this is titled "Chapter 1," I would think so. :P

Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

[daremaster 1]

Originally Posted by foow

Well, considering that this is titled "Chapter 1," I would think so. :P

Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

Thought so, was just wondering.

Some people wright one chapter saying theres more but never do.

[foow]

And those people are the worst.

I'll try to have a new chapter up by Sunday.

[daremaster 1]

Originally Posted by foow

And those people are the worst.

I'll try to have a new chapter up by Sunday.

I know right, I hate it.

See you Sunday...... maybe.

[foow]

Chapter 2: The Nearness (Part 1)

I spent the next week doing little but think of Josh and my next meeting with him. I could barely focus at school or work, and any motivation I had to hang out or party with friends was completely shot. The only thing I wanted to do, aside from design a time machine that would take me to next Sunday, was hit the gym. I could imagine Josh's perfectly-sculpted body beneath his tight shirt, with firm pecs, abs you could grate cheese on and a back that could be used in place of the letter V. I needed mine to match. I was already pretty toned—I had to be for hockey—but I needed to take it to the next level. I cut back on my meals and spent a few hours everyday doing cardio and targeting my stomach and chest with as many exercises as I knew.

By the end of the week, every part of my body was sore, but I was certain I saw results—the six-pack was bordering on eight, my t-shirt was tighter around my chest and my jeans were all the looser. I didn't think there was any way I could have looked better, but the question would be if Josh felt the same way. I would have to find the right clothes to wear to the church—ones that highlighted my muscle while still paying respect to whatever the hell the believers believed in.

Unfortunately for me, despite my improved looks, my body had taken quite the toll from what I'd put it through, and was in no mood to cooperate with me at our hockey game on the Friday evening. We were already down a few players due to illness and injuries, and were playing the school's biggest rivals, so the pressure was on for a huge performance. It didn't pan out. Between my sore body and my distant mind (I could have sworn I saw Josh in the crowd a dozen times), I had no drive in me, and it showed. I screwed up a few passes that led to easy giveaways, let way too many opposing forwards get by me and, with fifteen seconds left in the game and our goalie pulled, ended up missing a one-timer in front of an empty net. We lost 1-0, but that's only because our goalie was stellar.

After the game, the guys in the dressing room tore into me. “What the hell was that, Jord?” our captain, a tough, no-nonsense senior, spat as soon as the door had closed. “That's the worst I've ever seen out of you. Did your boyfriend chew your cock off last night? 'Cause you played like a woman out there.”

“Screw you.” I flipped him off as I yanked away my skates. Normally that sort of talk didn't faze me, but it suddenly seemed so personal.

“Seriously, Jord,” another guy said, “are you okay? You looked pretty out of it.”

“Shut up Wes,” a third piped in, “we're not here to talk about our feelings like little faggots. Jord knows he screwed up. And I didn't see you getting any action out there.”

Wes sneered at the player, while I smirked. “At least I'm getting action where it matters. Though I'm sure your sister tells you all about it, right?”

This brought approving laughter from the rest of the team, while Wes fumed. “Dude, she's sixteen. I didn't know you were a pedophile.”

I yanked my other skate off and threw it in my bag. “Hey, no need to get jealous.” To my right, one of the more attractive members of the team was getting fully undressed. I kept him in my peripheral vision as the other guys fired a few more barbs at each other. My head was already back to Josh. Just two more days. I couldn't have been more excited.

***

I was wrong. By the time Mark's car pulled into the church's parking lot, my heart was pounding so hard I was sure the others were able to hear it. We'd been late leaving due to Ryan having to finish a last-minute assignment, so we'd missed the soup kitchen entirely and were probably a few minutes tardy for the service. I felt an uncomfortable lump in my throat. Josh had said he'd save me a seat, but since we were late, would he give it up?

I rushed ahead of the others, going into the church and trying to remember which hallways took me to the sanctuary. My memory served me well, as did the crescendoing rock music, and I made it in just as the band started singing the first worship song. The place was much busier than the previous week, with a few more rows full of teens and young adults. I slowly walked down the aisle, rubbing my hands down the tight-fitting dress shirt I'd worn to smooth out any creases, and looked for Josh. There were a lot of boys with similar hair—none of them nearly as attractive—which threw me off a few times, but I couldn't see him. A wave of fear came upon me. What if he wasn't there? Was I going to have to wait another week to see him?

Just as the band started the chorus, I saw him, standing in the middle of a row, his arms extended and face aimed high and eyes closed. My heart leaped and then did a cartwheel when I saw an empty chair next to him. He'd saved one! Praise God!... or whatever.

I forcefully pushed through the other worshippers in the row, saying a few “Excuse me”s, and then reached the empty seat and faced the stage. Josh, in his religious state, didn't seem to notice me, so I joined in the singing, knowing my pitch was way off (I'm quite certain that there is a negative relationship between sports and singing ability). It took a few seconds, but Josh finally looked over at me. His face immediately lit up and his arms briefly flew back, as if he wanted to give me a hug. But he caught himself, and instead calmly said “Hey, you made it!”

“Of course,” I said, trying to be heard over the music. “I wasn't going to miss this!”

He laughed and faced the stage again. I did the same and grinned. He'd been happy when he was worshiping, but thrilled when he saw me.

That sure said a lot about me and God, didn't it?


Have a bit more to add later tonight, but I wanted to put this up now. Any thoughts or opinions would be great, so please share them!

[daremaster 1]

Almost forgot about this story, thanks for the chapter.

[foow]

Thanks! I just wish more people would post here... kinda feel like I'm writing for an audience that isn't there...

Chapter 2: The Nearness (Part 2)

The service continued on for another half hour, during which time I couldn't get a word in with Josh. I could feel his eyes on me every few seconds, but this was church and we sure couldn't've talked with hundreds of others surrounding us. What I really wanted—hell, needed—was to get some alone time with him.

The sermon was once again about sin, which I was beginning to think was either a staple of the church, or just the result of hiring a lazy preacher. I zoned out for most of it, with all my thoughts going to the beautiful human being that sat not even a foot away from me. I shifted my body weight towards him, to the point where I could faintly hear his breathing. I kept myself calm, breathing in and out through my nose, and, in doing so, taking in his wonderful aroma. I normally hate body spray, but on him it was the finest of perfumes.

“Now, in order to combat sin, we all need someone to lean on. So I want everyone here to find an accountability buddy.” That got my attention. I sat up slightly and listened carefully. “I know there are hundreds of awesome young people who are devoted to God in this very room, so why not make a new friend? Get someone to walk with on your journey with God, who will pray with you and listen to you and laugh and cry with you when you need it.” Holy crap. Was this guy reading my mind? “So go ahead and do that, and we'll get the worship band up here.”

I had to remain in control. If I spun towards Josh too quickly, he'd think I was too eager and suspect something. But if I was too slow, someone else might grab him as their buddy. Trying to seem relaxed, I leisurely turned to Josh, only to find him looking right back at me. “He said we should make a new friend. Wanna be mine?”

I grinned. “Definitely! You seem like a cool guy. I'd be honoured to be your accountabilibuddy.”

He laughed. “I like that term. Why don't we meet up after the service so we can get to know each other a bit better?”

“I'd lov—er, like it. It'd be great.” Couldn't come across as too strong. But, man oh man, did I want to get to know him.

The worship service ended after a few more songs, and Josh took a few minutes to say goodbye to his friends before motioning for us to get out of the church. I waved to Mark and Ryan, who'd clearly chosen each other as buddies, and followed my new friend out the sanctuary, through the halls and into the warm autumn air. A wooden bench stood at the edge of the church's parking lot. We both took a seat and watched as the worshippers streamed out of the church.

“So,” Josh said, brushing his straight black hair out of his right eye, only to have it fall right back over, “it's Jord, right?”

“You bet. And you're Steve, right?”

He laughed and playfully punched my shoulder. My jeans grew a bit tighter. “You're hilarious. So tell me about yourself. You're a student here?”

I nodded. “Yep. Doing Engineering at school. But I'm from New Hampshire initially. What else... uh, I have a younger brother and older sister, and my parents are both TV producers.”

“Cool! Any shows I'd know of?”

“I doubt it, unless you watch a lot of home renovation shows.”

“Can't say I do. What about your spiritual journey? What's that like?”

I felt my entire body freeze up. I hadn't been prepared for that, so I had no good answer to give. “Umm, that's a good question.” My mind raced through every mention of religion I'd ever heard. Damn it, I should have paid more attention during the sermon. “Well, uh, I guess I'm always trying to go further in my walk with Jesus.” Yeah. That works. Heavy on the metaphor. “And sometimes it feels like a run, you know?”

“Definitely.” He seemed convinced. “But it's so important that we keep Jesus at our side. I don't know how I could have made it without Him.”

That piqued my curiosity. “What do you mean? What's your, you know, spiritual journey been like?”

He paused and looked right into my eyes with his piercing blue ones, the pupils wide and full of emotion. I felt my breath being drawn away involuntarily. “It's a long story, and my mom's gonna be here soon, so I'll tell the gist of it. I didn't have any faith at all until I was 13, just a few years ago.” He looked down, squinting and clenching his jaw, as though he were in pain. “My dad died then, just a few days after my birthday.”

“Oh my Go-gosh.” I caught myself just in time. “I'm so sorry. What happened?”

“Hit by a drunk driver on his way to pick me up from a party.” He looked back up at me, his eyes watering. “It was my own fault. I shouldn't have been there.”

It was like my heart was being yanked out of me. I had to fight every urge to just reach out and give him a hug. “You can't say that!” I said. “It wasn't your fault at all. Please don't tell me you blame yourself for it...”

He shook his head. “No. I've gotten past that. But here's the thing: God used that to speak to me. After my dad's funeral, a pastor came up and started talking about how much Jesus cares for me and how He will comfort me if I turn to Him.” He sniffed loudly. “So I did. And I felt this incredible peace come over me, you know? Like God was literally hugging me. So one night, when I was all alone in a park, just crying out to God to give me my dad back, I realized that if God was going to be there for me, I'd have to be there for Him as well. So I gave my life to Him, and now I know I'm going to Heaven.”

“Wow.” I really was awestruck. My skeptical mind was giving me all the other reasons Josh could have felt the presence of the divine, but I shooed them away. This was pretty incredible. “Josh, that is an amazing story. I really feel touched.”

He managed a smile. “Thanks. It hasn't been easy, but I know God's always guiding me, as I'm sure you do as well.” He looked over as a car entered the parking lot. “Darn it, that's my mom. Do you have a cell? We should text and meet up again, maybe before next week?”

“Sounds great.” We exchanged numbers, as well as last names, and promised to get in touch within the next few days. I waved to his mom as he got in the car, to show that I wasn't threatening, and she waved back.

As he drove away, I sat in silence, trying to process everything I'd just experienced. One thing was for sure: I was in love with him. His tragic story just made him all the more appealing; I just wanted to grab him in a tight embrace and tell him everything was going to be okay. I hoped that chance would come soon.

“Isn't he a bit young for you?” I looked up to see Ryan and Mark standing in front of the bench.

I stood up and threw a light jab at them. “He's a good kid. Got a great testic—testimony. Or whatever you guys call it.”

We got into Mark's car and drove back to campus. Five minutes in, my phone beeped.

Josh had already sent me a text.

[daremaster 1]

Another chapter today! Thanks!

[Demon Thief]

It's nice to see something original around here. I like how religion fits into your story. Anyway, I can't wait to see where this goes.

[foow]

Thanks! I'll try to have a new chapter up by Sunday.

[foow]

Sorry for not updating yet--hopefully will have the chapter up by tomorrow evening. I hit a strange case of writer's block.

[foow]

Chapter 3: Birmingham

I dreamt of Josh that night. We were in the church, with some weird worship song playing, but the band didn't seem to notice that we were the only ones there. Or, for that matter, what we were doing. Josh ripped his shirt off, revealing a perfect hairless eight-pack and well-toned pecs, and then removed mine, showing off a nearly-identical physique. Then he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and neck and pressed his soft, tender lips against my cheeks. My own hands came around his back, grabbing onto his warm flesh, and I nuzzled my head against his. Then we were making out, as the band got louder and slower: “I love you always, I worship you forever, I just want to get on my knees, get on my knees...”

And that's what Josh did, falling down and ripping my jeans open. A huge bulge had formed in my boxers, and as he reached to pull them down, his beautiful face pressed right against my groin--

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

I rolled over and slammed my alarm off, then sat up in my sticky sheets. “Damn it.” I was still exhausted and every muscle in my body was swearing at me. How come morning had to come so early?

The clock read 8:35, which strangely woke me up even more. I'd set it for 10—I didn't have class until noon. I hit the alarm button and checked: yep, it was still set for an hour and a half into the future. So if it hadn't woken me... My phone. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. What idiot was texting me so early?

I climbed out of bed and walked over to the dresser, eager to give a sarcastic reply to whatever the jackass was messaging me about. As soon as I grabbed the phone, however, all the anger inside me dissipated. It was from Josh. Hey wanna grab some food this week?

“Do I?!” I shouted aloud, raising a fist triumphantly. Getting woken by Real-Josh was far better than anything I would have done with Dream-Josh. I quickly typed a response: U bet! Then I stopped. Was that too enthusiastic? I erased it and typed Sure. But that wasn't exciting enough. I stared at my phone, trying to think what to write. Then I realized I was overthinking. Gah, why did this have to be so freaking complicated?

That'd be awesome! When's a good time for you? I pounded it out and hit “Send” before I could second-guess myself. Then I threw the phone on the bed and took a nice warm shower. The hot water felt great on my aching muscles, which in-turn felt great along my hands as I washed them down with soap. Once I'd stepped out of the steamy bathroom, there were several unread messages on my phone:

How about tonight?

We can meet at Wendy's? The food there is good.

And talk about being acountability buddies?

Hell. Yes.

I texted him back to confirm the address and told him I'd be there at six. Then I raced to the kitchen and cracked several eggs into the pan. I needed to eat fast and get to the gym before my class started. At least I'd had an early alarm.

***

Turns out it's really, really easy to overdress for Wendy's. I thought I'd look good, but not fancy, in straight black khakis and a tight dark-blue dress shirt (to emphasize all the time I'd spent in the gym recently), but when everyone else in the restaurant was wearing ragged t-shirts and torn jeans, I definitely stuck out like a sore thumb. I shrugged it off and looked around for Josh. He hadn't arrived yet—I was ten minutes early anyway—so I ordered a fries and sat down to wait.

It reached six o'clock, and he still hadn't shown up.

Nor at six-fifteen.

Or six-thirty.

As I finished my third order of fries, I looked at the clock and realized something had gone wrong. Maybe his mom hadn't been able to bring him out or maybe he got tied up with school. Whatever it was, he obviously wasn't showing up. I pounded the table in anger and threw the empty fries carton at the garbage bin. Then I left the restaurant, my head down and my fists clenched. I knew there was a good reason—there's no way he'd stand me up, right?--but I was still frustrated as hell. Sighing, I made my way to the bus stop and waited on the bench. What a waste of an evening. It just wasn't fair.

The bus was just approaching as I sat down. I smiled faintly. At least my luck was turning around a bit. It stopped in front of me and I started to climb in.

“Jord!”

I stopped and looked over. Josh jumped out of the back entrance and ran towards me. I think my heart jumped up in my chest. I waved to the bus driver and stepped back onto the sidewalk, as Josh reached me, his arms open wide. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd grabbed him in a tight hug and nearly lifted his lean body off the ground. He, in turn, wrapped his arms around me and was definitely feeling up my back.

“About time you got here,” I said. I squeezed him once more and then let him go.

“Yeah, sorry, the bus was late...” He stepped back awkwardly and chuckled. “You give good hugs.”

“You too.” I pulled my jacket down, making sure it was covering my jeans. “You hungry?”

He shook his head. “My mom made me eat before I left. Do you want to get some food?”

“I'm fine.” I motioned down the nearby residential street. “Why don't we take a walk?”

He nodded happily. Keeping very close to each other, we walked down the street, past nice, two-story houses that were developing Halloween decorations and front lawns covered with fallen leaves. After a bit of small talk, I asked Josh what his plans were for this week.

“We have the big rally this Friday.” He nearly jumped up and looked at me. “You should come!”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Rally? What rally is this?”

“A big one against homosexual marriage. There's going to be thousands of Christians at the legislature, protesting it and upholding traditional marriage. If you want to come, we can give you a ride.”

“Oh, wow. Umm...” My mind seemed to freeze up as I tried to figure out what to say. I'm not a political person at all, but I support equal rights for all (including myself), so this was one rally I did not want to be seen at. But this had also given me some insight into who Josh was... and it didn't look pretty. I needed to delve into it more. “I can't make it on Friday. I have work. And I don't think my gay friends would want me to be there.”

He gasped audibly. “You have gay friends?”

I shot him a look as we turned down another side street. “Yeah... is that a problem?”

“It is!” he shouted emphatically. “The Bible is clear that homosexuality is a terrible sin. Your friends can't be allowed to live that sort of sinful lifestyle. They need to be brought to Jesus.”

“Right...” Were we having this conversation? Two closeted gay guys, talking about whether it was a sin? Dear God, how much my life had taken a turn in the past few weeks. “Do you think people choose to be gay?”

“No. I think it's a mental disorder, caused by abuse or abandonment or something like that.” This was the most animated I'd ever seen him. It was scary. Is this what he was actually learning at his church? “But I also know that people can be healed from it when they turn to Jesus and ask Him to take away their same-sex attractions.”

“Is that what they are?” I asked. “Same-sex attractions? Not actual feelings?”

Now he looked at me strangely. “Of course they're not real. Jord, we're all straight. Just some people have weird feelings at times, but those can be fixed with prayer and counselling.”

“Right...” Well, I knew one thing: this boy was in denial. But there was no use arguing any further. I had to remind myself that I was pretending to be an evangelical Christian for him.

We reached a park and walked down to a small pond. He found a nice round stone and tossed it at the clear, glass-like water. It hit the water and sunk immediately. I laughed. “No, that's not how you do it.” I showed him the right way by grabbing another stone and flicking it across the pond. It skipped along the water before settling in halfway across.

“Nice.” He tried again, only to have the same results.

“Here,” I stepped behind him and gave him another stone, “let me help.” I gently grabbed his wrist and held it in the correct position. He stepped back, pressing right against my body, and every one of my hairs stood on end. “N-now you just flick it--” I kept him in position as he tossed the stone. “--and there you go.” The rock bounced over the water several times before sinking. “Good!”

He turned around, putting his pale, fresh face right in front of mine. “I did it!”

“Y-yeah, you did!” Our lips were just inches apart. How easy it would have been to just lean forward and kiss him. I knew there were feelings between us, but I didn't know how he would react. I clamped my jaw firm and forced myself to take a step back.

He reached down, picked up another stone, and threw it at the pond. As he did, the silver watch that hung off his wrist flew off as well, landing with a loud splash about twenty feet from the shore. Josh gasped. “My watch!”

We ran to the edge of the pond, where the ground dropped off and was replaced by a few feet of water. “Please tell me it's waterproof,” I said, keeping my sight on where the splash had been made. The only light came from the streetlamps beyond the park.

He shook his head. “It was my dad's.” His voice sounded choked, as though he were about to cry. “I need to get it.”

I started looking around for a large branch, but Josh took a more direct approach. He tore his shirt, shoes and pants off and dove into the pond wearing just his black boxers. “Oh no,” I muttered. It was hardly a warm night out, and the water had to be near freezing. He surfaced and swam towards the target, his firm, muscular arms tearing through the water with ease.

“There's no way this ends well.” I quickly removed my wallet and phone from my pockets, ready to jump in as soon as the cold got to him and he started to struggle. He reached the area where the watch had landed and slipped under, emerging a few seconds later in a fit of coughs. “Josh, are you okay?”

He held a thumb above his head and slipped back under again, this time for a good twenty seconds before shooting back up. “I saw it!” he screamed. He took a deep breath and was right back under again. I held my own breath as I waited for him to break the surface again. Ten seconds passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. Something was not right.

“You idiot,” I muttered, unbuttoning my shirt and throwing it off. I ran at the pond and dove in. The water hit my body like a million tiny needles, stinging every inch of my skin. I gritted my teeth and swam through it, my thick, soaked jeans now holding me back. I reached the point where Josh had gone under and took a deep breath, ready to go down and find his body. Just as I started to descend, he sprang back up, silver watch in hand.

“Ahh!” He jumped back in surprise as he saw me. “What are you doing?”

“S-s-s-saving y-y-y-you,” I said through chattering teeth. “What took you so long?”

“I wanted to see how long I could hold my breath,” he said innocently. “Sorry, I didn't think you'd jump in.”

“I thought you'd drowned.” I started to backcrawl towards the land.

He grinned and followed me. “So you dove in to save me? Thanks buddy.”

I shook my head. “Don't do it again, okay? Seriously, this water is freezing.”

He splashed at me. “I don't mind it.”

“Oh really?” I asked. I stopped in place and then jumped at him, pushing his head underwater. He struggled to fight back, but was no match for me. I wrapped my arms around him and held him in place. “There, how's it now?”

“Not so bad.” His tone was soft... almost seductive. I felt shivers go down my spine, and they had nothing to do with the freezing water. “Especially with you near.”

“What do you mean?” The words were out of my mouth before I could even think.

He seemed to pause for a second, before ducking under the water and appearing a few feet away from me. “Nothing. You're just a good friend, you know?”

“Sure.” Like that's what he really meant. I sighed quietly, swam towards the land and climbed out, my whole body shaking from the cold. I helped Josh out and then ran for my shirt, holding it over my body as though it could act like a towel.

“You okay?” Josh stood in front of me, wearing is soaked boxers, as though it was a sunny summer day. I finally got a good look at what he looked like under his clothes, and I wasn't disappointed. He was ripped, from a defined six-pack and pecs to his muscular legs and arms. There was a definitive bulge in his boxers, one that was quite large at that. He shook his head, flinging his wet black hair back and sending small droplets everywhere.

“Yeah. I'm fine.” It was true. I really was.


(Next chapter: things really heat up. I promise)

[bodacious]

I am in lust with this story now...