Warning: Apart from being pure fiction I'm not sure what this story is, if you read it, you tell me. Apart from a lot of talk, this story also contains descriptions of one hetero incestuous rape and one incident of gay-male rape, the two incidents are intwined in a rather disturbing manner. Don't read if you have no stomach for nonconsentual fiction.
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John didn't realise he was in trouble, before he was grabbed from behind on a desolate sidewalk. Even then he still thought it was a sort of joke, a belief he somehow retained while a second person taped his mouth shut - duct-style. But when one of his assailants spoke to him, John knew he was in deep shit and started struggling like a maniac.
"So you like gay-bashing. Do you, John? Huh? By the time we are done with you, you will be wishing your dad's lawyer didn't get you off the hook."
----=(Twenty-four years later)=----
"I'm... uh..." Dave was fidgeting with his coffee cup, even here with only his two best friends present, he had trouble bringing himself to say it.
Molly and Brian looked at him, patiently, not pushing. The three of them were close. They knew Dave well enough to understand he was trying to say something personal, and if Dave was about to tell them something private, which they didn't already know, then it truly had to be a big secret.
"I'm gay," Dave said, finally pushing out the words.
"Ok," Molly said, her tone about the same as it would have been if he had said 'My real hair colour is brown'.
Brian didn't say anything.
"There I said it," Dave continued, "I'm out of the closet."
"Good for you, Dave," Molly said, and offered a small smile, "There is gonna be a trail of broken hearts at the office, but the girls will get over it eventually. When are you going to tell your parents?"
"Tomorrow," Dave said, and nodded as if to confirm his own words.
"Don't do it, Dave," Brian advised, staring intently into his own coffee cup. As if the surface of his coffee had a manual - written in sugar and cream - on how to live as a gay man.
"What?" Dave was baffled, he hadn't been sure how Brian would react to his announcement. A multitude of possible reactions had run through his mind the previous evening. An advice to stay in the closet, however, had not been one of them.
"I said, don't do it," Brian reiterated, and wrestled his eyes of his cup, dragging them to Dave's face.
"Don't listen to him, Dave. Do it," Molly countered.
The three friends went quiet, they didn't want to fight. Brian was the first to break the silence.
"If you do it, you will become a walking, talking political statement. You will become a living bill-board sign saying 'Gay is ok'. Friends, family, acquaintances, everyone you know, will become political nay- or yay-sayers. Not to mention, you will become a hate-target."
After his speech Brian let his eyes move back to his coffee.
"If you don't do it, you will be living a lie. Lies are like slow-working poison, they infest and spread, and you can't presume to know what the consequences will be."
"Bullshit," Brian stated, "as long as he doesn't tell anyone, it won't mean a thing to anyone but himself."
The friends went quiet again. Once again Brian was first to break the silence, after a couple sips of courage gathering coffee.
"I'm gay too."
"Ok," Molly said.
"You?" Dave asked.
"Yes, me. But I keep it to myself, I'm not a bill-board."
Quiet took hold of the room yet again. This time Molly was the first to talk.
"Since we are sharing secrets today, maybe I should offer mine too."
"What? Are you gay too?" Dave asked, his head was spinning. Admitting to his best friends that he was gay had felt unreal, being told that one of them was gay too made him feel like he was having a surreal dream.
"No, I'm not gay," Molly said, "but in ways I would prefer if that had been my secret."
"Hah," was Brian's comment to that remark.
"In ways, Brian, in ways," she said and shot her old friend a harsh glance, "Maybe you should listen to my secret before you judge?"
"Sure, let's hear it," Brian doubted she could say anything that would make him retract his 'hah'.
"Twenty-four years ago, my brother was on trial for a hate crime," Molly began, "My father was fairly wealthy and hired a really good lawyer. His money seemed to be well spent. In spite of being guilty like fuck, my brother, John, was acquitted on all counts."
Molly sipped her coffee, her tone and manner would imply she was telling just yet another normal tale of something half-interesting, but her shaking hands revealed she was troubled by the memories.
"The crime was gay-bashing. You see, me and all my siblings, we hated gays in general and gay men in particular. We weren't directly raised that way, it was just the tone at home. Or well, our father's tone. If a package arrived torn and battered, the post office was run by faggots. If a sports judge made bad calls during a fight, he was a fucking queer. All that, the usual, you hear it all the time."
Brian and Dave nodded.
'How is this supposed to be a speech in favour of leaving the closet?'
Dave wondered.
"Twenty-three years ago," Molly continued, "pictures began to circulate in our home town. Pornographic pictures, in which my brother, John the Gay-Basher, engaged in gay sex. There was no doubt they were real. When he saw the pictures, he started telling people he had been raped, but no one believed him, 'cause he hadn't told anyone of being raped prior to learning about the pictures. They had been going around for days before he heard of them. And at that time it had been many months since they were taken."
"John, was a gay gay-basher?" Brian asked.
"That's what we all thought," Molly said, "I was devastated. My adored brother, a gay man, I didn't want to believe it, but I did, I was absolutely convinced he was gay. My brother left town, he couldn't stand the shame of nobody believing him. For two years, I didn't hear from him, and I was relieved."
"You hated gay people so heavily you couldn't stand the thought of your own brother being gay?" Dave asked.
"Actually, that wasn't the worst part for me. That is part of why I have never told anyone about this. I had a secret of my own back then, still a secret today, but now I will tell you guys. You gay guys," she tried to smile, but her lips trembled at the effort.
"I had the biggest crush on my brother John. Yeah you heard me right," Molly said, even though neither Dave nor Brian had made objections to her words, "The biggest crush, I was in love with my own brother. I had daydreamed of marrying him since I was ten and he was fifteen. Later those dreams evolved to... Let's call it 'less innocent fantasies'. By the time I saw those gay-sex pictures of him, I was seventeen. A virgin with raving hormone, having all sorts of impossible thoughts about what could happen at my next birthday. I..."
A tear rolled out of one of Molly's eyes and she got up to fetch herself a paper-napkin.
"I couldn't help myself," she continued while dubbing the napkin against her eyes, a make-up wearing habit, "I fantasised about my five year older brother John, several times a day, almost every single day. Fantasies about him were the alpha and omega of my evolving sexuality. Other guys was nothing, I didn't even date, it just felt too phoney to play up to some guy who meant little more to me than dust on the pavement. The guys I would consider friends, well there were plenty reasons not to date those. For one thing they weren't cool, for another I didn't want to hurt their feelings."
"In that order, huh?" Brian asked, apart from his sexuality he wasn't one to keep his clam shut.
"Yeah, in that order. I was seventeen the concept of being unpopular scared the living daylights out of me. Ok?"
"Ok," Brian shrugged, "so you were in love with your gay gay-bashing brother. I'm happy that you trust me enough to confide in me. But really, your secret isn't all that terrible, Hun."
"I'm not done with my story yet," Molly grabbed a big bundle of paper-napkins and took them back to her chair - she wasn't done by far.
"Keep telling, Molly," Dave said, if she hadn't started weeping he would have felt somehow neglected, having his talk of closet-abandoning interrupted.
"Twenty-one years ago, I was nineteen years old, and still living at home. My twenty-four year old brother John was visiting our parents for thanksgiving. It was his first visit since he had left town. My father had instructed all of us, 'Not to call John gay,' and 'Not to mention the pictures,' " Molly said, imitating a stern male voice when quoting her father's words.
"I had no plans of playing the obedient daughter and good sister. I was planning to let John have it, every piece of venom and malice I had saved up for him in the last two years. When John left I had been a virgin, a good girl, an old fashioned decent girl. But at my eighteenth birthday, where John had not been present, something had snapped inside of me. Since that day, I had grown to be the cheapest slut in town. After cheating on the first three guys, I no longer bothered calling my lovers 'boyfriends'. I fucked anyone, chess-club members, football members, the dirty old guy next door. Anyone."
Molly rose again, and went to her lovely decorated drink cabinet.
"Help yourself if you want drinks," she said, mixing herself a big glass of what seemed to be randomly chosen alcohol. Dave and Brian stuck to their coffee. Molly continued her story as soon as she was seated again, monster drink in front of her.
"I even volunteered for a couple girl-guy-girl threesomes, that's how I know I'm not gay. I mean it wasn't so bad to eat pussy, but if I hadn't been rammed by a cock while doing it, I woulda been bored." Molly shrugged. "What can I say, I am not eligible to join your club."
"The first day of my brother's visit, I didn't get a proper chance to bully him. My father was guarding him like a hawk, he didn't even leave his side to fetch beers. My mother aided in that by fetching beers non-stop, like an old-fashioned wifey. The second day however, they started letting their guard down, there hadn't been any incidents."
Molly sighed.
