Guys go through everything together without having to say a word, sometimes, especially without saying a word.
You don't find a lot of groups of friends like the one I have. We met in third grade, all of us completely different, but we played together and never stopped hanging out after that. Bad grades, parents' divorces, grandparent's dying, that incident with the cop, girlfriends, they all came and went but we stuck together. There were six of us. Jerry was the cool guy, always gel in his hair, always a girlfriend on his arm and the newest clothes. Jacob was the smart one, he spoke four languages and got into Stanford recently, we're all only 21 and yet he already made national news speaking for unemployment rates for Latin-American youths. He's going to make it far.
Franz is the loser, a punk rocker who takes drugs for breakfast and aspires nothing but will cheer you up like no boy ever will. Darryl is the artist, he plays piano for us, sometimes all evening, or blows us away with another kick ass group portret he drew on Photoshop. Zafar is the quiet one, he cares for only two things; working out and reading, he sort of comes and goes when he pleases but when you need him he's there.
Then there's me, Tom, I'm the boring one. I don't have a glowing career working at the local food market, I didn't get into the college I wanted and I've never had a girlfriend. I always felt like I tried to be like the other guys but I'm not. Yet, they hang out with me all the same. They're more my family than my family.
I lost my virginity to one of Jerry's girlfriends last year, in his backseat while he was driving. We were all drunk, and they were arguing. Out of revenge, she sat on my lap and started riding me, continiously looking at him. Jerry looked back through the mirror and I came so fast thinking of how he was watching me, the girl got mad I came inside. Aside from that night I never had sex again. Not until one strange night in november.
We were at Franz' house, hanging out, smoking weed and watching porn. We'd do that together so often it wasn't a big deal. It was more like background noise while we discussed life and the world and girls. Mostly Franz' many sisters. I'm sure Jerry has been through them all, but me and Darryl still fantasized away. Heck, I'm sure even Franz did, the pervert. At Franz' place, Darryl couldn't do much with his restlessness so he played on Franz' ancient game boy. Seeing Darryl do anything wasn't like seeing normal people do stuff. When Darryl ate he savoured every flavor and bite, when he drank he looked like he was in a commercial, and when he played his eyes opened wide and he immersed himself in the game, as boring as it was. It's not uncommon that our evening activity was just watching Darryl do stuff in his weird, almost zen like manner. I loved it.
I don't know what it was about that night, but one of Franz' sisters, Lora, had joined the party, fascinated by the porn, and the conversation with Zafir and Franz (which is a hilarious duo about topics like sex) turned to what guys found erotic. Not hot, not horny, erotic. When Franz and Lora were in a heavy discussion and Zafar only interjected when he really disagreed, I kept looking at Darryl. And in that moment, I realized, it was he who turned me on. His long black curly hairs which looked so soft and healthy, were draped over his face, bouncing with the wild movements of his head. His big rugged fingers, which had carved many statues, played many strings or dugged in many soils, strongly pressed the buttons on the device. His eyes, his piercing eyes, focused on the toy, never waning, never seizing to have that addictive spark. And that smile. His thin lips revealed shining white teeth and a happiness I'm not sure many of us ever experience. He wasn't playing a game, he was living it. And that enthusiasm, I found, was highly erotic. As Franz' described nothing short of the porn he was seeing as being erotic, I looked at my friend, whom I had known for so many years, who was heartbroken over his recent split with his girlfriend and hadn't thought of women or sex since, and I wanted to kiss him. Shocked by my thoughts, I returned to the conversation.
"Licking a clit is not erotic, idiot, that's just your porn addiction. You wouldn't find one if you tried," Lora said jokingly.
"I have found so many, I'd bet I could find yours," Franz quipped.
"I swear mom was drunk when she was pregnant with you, you're sick!" Lora threw a pillow at her brother and took the last hit from the joint.
"Hey! That was my last one, bitch" Franz threw the pillow back and Lora had to cough. We all laughed, well, those who noticed. Franz was so pissed he decided to get some harder stuff from his local dealer, and off he went. Which left Lora rather uncomfortable with us watching porn.
"I'm heading to bed for the night, pervs" she laughed as she walked away. I could see the disappointment on Zafir's face. He probably wanted to bang her. She turned the TV off because of the noise and left.
"I'm going too guys." Darryl suddenly said. I was shocked and caught myself with the same look as Zafir on my face. This is Darryl to the max. He's so random he will up and leave because he absolutely has to in that moment and there is no stopping him. I don't know what came over me but I got up and gave him a hug goodbye. We never do that. At most we bump fists and at the very least we say "like we care, faggot!" But there I was hugging him. Of course Darryl returned the hug, Darryl encouraged all expressions of love.
He smiled, with that beautiful smile at me and said "yeah man", while patting me on the back. He nodded to Zafir and left. I was left standing with a raging hard on, turned away from Zafir. I wanted to go home and jerk off, but was afraid to walk right now. So instead I sat down in the hopes of getting rid of my bulge.
Unfortunately, Zafir turned on the porn again, on mute.
"Damn, that chick is so god damn sexy". Zafir suddenly said, to my surprise. Zafir never used that kind of language. He was eloquent, respected religion and when he spoke of women it was with a feminist message. But when I looked over I didn't see Zafir, the guy who didn't eat for a week all in school because of some dying children somewhere. I saw a big, grown up man, masculine and dominant, who was looking at the screen but fantasizing about a girl in another room with relentless horniness. He turned to me, his eyes malicious and sly. "I'm too fucking horny, aren't you?"
