***Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe "inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the "innocent."***
* * *
Given all the shit from earlier that spring, it was a miracle that Karl and I were still friends, let alone best friends.
That senior year of college back in the early 1990s, we certainly had started out as best friends. When we had first met, we had immediately clicked in that inscrutable way best friends seem to click, and over time we became tighter than tight. At the start of senior year, my girlfriend Liz had moved into an incredible suite with a good friend of hers named Di. Slowly, Karl and Di fell for each other... and just like that, the four of us were inseparable.
We made a good-looking group. I was six feet 180 lbs., with reddish hair and a pretty decent build, been called handsome. Karl was an inch or so shorter with light brown hair, and had a very good looking, almost boyish face that turned many girls' heads... and likely a few guys'. He had a very good build... I don't know that I envied him, but I sure did admire him on those occasions when we threw around a ball without our shirts on. Over our time in college, Karl had really grown into his body and good looks, becoming quite an attractive guy... but he still thought of himself as a gawky teenager. His shy obliviousness to his looks was part of his charm, and enhanced his charisma.
Early into the year, I realized his charisma--and, hell, his body and looks--were burrowing deeper into my mind than I thought. Now, I would never have said anything out loud, and I was totally in love with my girl and all... but more than once I caught my mind flashing back to Karl's casual touches. Or thinking too long on funny cracks he made, or lingering a bit too long on his hairy chest as we tossed around a frisbee.
It didn't help that, given the lightly-built walls in college dorms, on those occasions when we were both staying overnight with our respective girlfriends at the same time, I could hear him fucking Di. Loudly. Sometimes while I was fucking Liz. One time Karl and Di were doing something that really got him going, and his guttural sounds as he came sent me into sexual overdrive--really going nutso as I was drilling Liz. Liz later said that was one of our best outings... to which I agreed, but said nothing more.
Again, I would have never said anything out loud to anyone. I was totally in love with my girl. No way was I gay. And it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because Karl was obviously straight and in love with Di. So... no one was gay, and it didn't matter.
Things came apart early that spring. Due to a series of improbable events, I learned that Karl and my gal Liz had totally been sleeping together, on the sly, right under our noses. They had been using our collective closeness as a cover.
Well, the shit hit the fan. I first confronted Liz--the person I was in supposed to be in love with. Her response was not ideal, essentially copping a position of: yes I cheated, but we've been together for so long you owe me a second chance, so I was just going to have to work through things with her.
Nuh-uh. Hard pass. We were done.
I next confronted Karl, and his reaction was entirely the opposite. He broke into tears, literally fell on his knees in front of me and begged... no,
groveled
for a chance to make things right. I dunno if it was a "bros before hos" thing or some deep-seated feelings, but I relented and said we could see how things go between us.
I admit for the next couple months I really got my pound of flesh from him. I wasn't... well,
evil
, but I made his life hell, and kept rubbing his face into things. Anythings. But he simply steeled his expression, and jumped through every hoop I held up without so much as a second thought. He answered every pointed question I asked him. Did every favor I demanded. And fiercely came to my aid without being asked. And slowly, with several second thoughts on my side, I started to drop the shields and start treating him like a friend again. And finally, I realized how much I had missed having my buddy around.
And then it happened.
My folks, who lived about 45 minutes from campus, were heading out of town and asked me to house sit, keeping an eye on place for them. I accepted eagerly, and on a lark asked Karl if he wanted join me that Friday night. We could watch a movie or two, get buzzed and crash, and I could drop him off back on campus sometime on Saturday. Nothing special, nothing grand. But it was sort of a chance to sign a permanent peace accord between us. He read it that way too, and eagerly agreed.
It was fun connecting again with him. There was an ease to our conversation, and even some well-directed jabs at each other, the kind of friendly ball-busting that lubricates all good male friendships. We had some glorious pizza, and liberally enjoyed my folk's liquor cabinet.
We were well relaxed, sitting on opposite arms of an L-shaped modular sofa, with our bare feet slightly meeting at the joint. There was a point where we were discussing some raunchy point about outdoor sex as shown in the raunchy movie we had put on. Conversation was easy, and I kept thinking out great it was having my friend back. A guy who had always gotten me. Who readily dripped charisma, but didn't even seem to realize what a sexual specimen he was.
Wait. Damn, what was that? Old feelings I had long pushed aside, especially after "the incident."
I mentally freaked, and then overcompensated. I ended up asking him a pointed question about whether he had done the outdoor sex thing himself... with the very clear implication that I was asking if he had done it with my girl Liz. Karl clearly got the message, and some of the high spirits died out a bit. He somewhat fumbled a reply, "Well...I? Um.... [...] Okay Scott, are you drilling me on this, or are you going to answer yourself?"
At that I buckled. He was right; that was a low blow. More to the point, I didn't want to lose that comfortable glow, along with the easy sexual banter we had been enjoying. I chose to radically shift gears.
"Oh no, Karl. I'm not asking... well, it just... I really just wanted to know if it was any good. Look, this will sound weird, but fucking a girl in great outdoors in front of God and everyone is something I've always thought about doing but never had the balls to... you know, give it a go. I was always afraid I'd get grass stains on my underwear or look up and see a park ranger or something."
"A fucking park ranger? You grew up in the fucking suburbs!" he mocked, laughing.
"Fuck you, asshole--prying eyes are
worse
in the suburbs. The homeowner association folks watch you like a hawk!"
Karl laughed again. "Whatever dude. But... well, ok fine. Yes. I lost my virginity on a picnic table."
My turn to laugh. "You fucking what? Did you use potato salad to lube her up?
"Ooo! That would have been tasty!" he snarked. "No, it was the end of high school. My girlfriend at the time and I had been going out for fucking ever, and we both wanted to lose our virginity before the end of the year. Jesus, we tried to plan so carefully for the perfect time, but we couldn't make it work. Then, one night at dusk we were at the park. It was storm season so there were all these storm warnings going around when we got caught in a massive thunderstorm. Folks scattered in every direction. We ran into one of those shelters... and with everyone gone we knew this was our chance. It wasn't... my best performance. But it was fucking cool as we had this massive thunder and lightning exploding all around us. I felt like a fucking god!"
"Dude, that's amazing! I always wanted to fuck in a storm! Just all that power! A total fantasy of mine."
