My gratitude and a heartfelt "Thanks" to Bhart1, for his constant encouragement and editing my first voyage.
Chapter 1
"You have 10 minutes to pack your stuff. If you choose to be gay then you are no son of mine and will be forever banished from this house!"
Those words from my father replayed over and over in my head as I walked down the road with no sense of direction.
I remember my mother sobbing and begging my father to calm down, but he would hear none of it. He picked up the bag I had packed from the living room floor and threw it out onto the porch while my mom gave me one last hug.
When she released me, he grabbed me by my collar to throw me out as well. The last thing my mother did was pull whatever money she had from her pocket and stuff it into my coat as I was being dragged away.
Once my father got me out the door he slammed it shut behind me. That sound had a finality I will never forget.
I couldn't believe my father, a bishop in our local Mormon church, would throw his only son out on the street for being gay. Where was the unconditional love he always preached in this action?
My parents converted to Mormonism when I was four years old and decided that the "Promise Land", as the Mormons call Utah, was where they wanted to chase their American dream. Three years after they joined the Church, my father sold his grocery business in Hong Kong and moved the whole family to Salt Lake City.
They opened a small convenience store in a local strip mall and worked long hours to make it a success. Father also stayed so narrowly focused on tending his flock that, when he was not minding the store, he would be at the church or out visiting members.
Growing-up as a Chinese immigrant in Utah wasn't easy, let alone being gay and Mormon. I'd known since I was four years old that I found an overwhelming sense of comfort in the presence of older, masculine men. I might not have had the words in my vocabulary at the time to talk about that feeling but I was acutely aware of it.
My best friend growing up was a neighbor boy named Bryce. His father, Brother Christensen, was such a man. He was a well-established builder in the Wasatch Front and owned his own construction company.
Since my parents worked long hours, I spent a lot of time at the Christensen's. Brother Christensen and my parents got on very well and he often told them how glad he was as a single parent that Bryce and I were so close.
Sometimes it almost seemed like I lived there. Brother Christensen tried to make it a point to get home from work early enough to spend time with us. We would throw the pigskin around with him in the backyard and frequently did our homework at their kitchen table while he worked at his business alongside us.
The summer months often found Bryce and me in their swimming pool and Brother Christensen would usually join us when he got home. It was always an arousing sight for me when he took off his shirt.
Construction work was apparently very physically demanding and it showed in his build. His hairy chest was broad and muscular and his arms were huge. Although he sported something of a belly, it only added to the solid look of his body. To be fifty years of age he was an impressive specimen of a man; maybe the most impressive I'd seen.
While in the pool we would gleefully laugh when he tossed us around as though we were little more than inflatable pool toys. Then, when he got out of the water and sat in his deck chair, his wet swim trunks would cling to his muscular thighs and leave little to the imagination regarding his impressive package.
With a proud smile on his face, Bryce would look at me and give a nod - as if to say, "Yep...
that
's my dad!"
One evening I was sleeping over with Bryce and before we went to bed we were talking about the upcoming senior prom. He was gay too and, with prom just around the corner, we weren't sure what to do.
Bryce didn't want to go but his dad felt it was a rite of passage he should experience. He wanted to come out to his dad to help him understand why he had so little interest in the occasion, but fear kept him quiet on the subject.
"Don't you know how lucky you are, Bryce? Your dad is always around and supportive of you. I wish my father could be like him."
"That's probably just because Mom passed away when I was little so I'm all he's got, Ethan."
"Bryce, your dad works at least as hard as mine and yet he chooses to make time for you. Any man can father a child, but it takes love to be a dad. I have a father, but you...you've got a
dad
. I really don't think you have anything to worry about by telling him you like guys."
It turned out I was right. Two days later Bryce told me he'd come out to him. Brother Christensen's only concerns were if he was sure about being gay at such a young age and whether or not he was happy.
Bryce told me they had a long talk and his dad assured him he would continue to love him no matter what.
"Bryce, is Ethan gay too?"
"Yes Dad. Actually, he's the one who encouraged me to come out to you. But I don't think he's ready to come out to his parents as deeply religious as they are."
"Thanks for letting me know, son."
I only learned their talk had contained that exchange from Brother Christensen a week or so later when he and I were alone in the pool. Bryce had fallen asleep on the couch and his dad suggested we let him continue to nap while we swam.
Once we were outside he thanked me for being such a good friend to his son and for helping him make the difficult decision to come out. He admitted that the news had shocked him, but said he was proud Bryce had found the courage to talk to him about who he really was.
It was then he confessed to their conversation about me. For all the encouragement and 'common sense' I had given Bryce, suddenly I found myself gripped with fear.
My face must have turned ten shades of red as adrenaline coursed through my body, which was frozen in panic. I wanted to leap from the pool and run...
anywhere
!
Upon seeing my reaction Brother Christensen quickly took my shoulders in his big hands. He gave them a comforting squeeze and I began to calm down.
"Ethan, please don't be upset with Bryce for spilling the beans to me. I probably shouldn't have even asked him about you...but at that moment it seemed like I had to know. I hoped...since he had kept me in the dark...that he'd had someone to look to as an ally all this time. I guess maybe I even hoped that, if he did...it was you."
His deep voice soothed me as he calmly and carefully chose his words.
Suddenly it occurred to me that I was out to this adult man and he hadn't rejected me. He had instead gone out of his way to offer me comfort.
"Being a man is harder than it looks, Ethan. It means living an honest life for one thing. I have a lot of acceptance to work through now, but I thank you for nudging my son onto the path I've always tried to raise him to take. I might not be perfect, but I have every intention of proving my love for him."
"You're welcome," I meekly replied on the verge of tears.
"Only you will know when the right time comes along. I hope when it does that you'll find the courage Bryce did to seize it...to give your parents that same chance to prove their love for you."
I threw my arms around his huge chest and tightly squeezed myself to him, still fighting back my tears. He wisely stayed silent and simply responded by returning my appreciative hug.
My longing for a loving father suddenly consumed me and I could no longer hold back my tears.
"Let it out, Ethan, let it out. It's ok, I'm here."
Even though I had seen Brother Christensen shirtless hundreds of times, the feel of his bare chest against mine was overwhelming. His manly scent was intoxicating and I unexpectedly began to erect in his embrace. My inability to control my physical response to his masculine appeal embarrassed me and I tried to pull away.
Brother Christensen must have thought I felt unworthy of his acceptance and decided that my need for comfort was more important. Rather than let me go, he tightened his arms around me and pulled me in. My heart sank as my hard-on helplessly lodged between his thighs.
