USA
Part 3

"Jason's been in there a long time," I observed. "Maybe he went home."

"Naked? Yeah, right."

We were all itching to know what was going on inside the house, but Dick advised us that it would be uncool to interfere. "Sometimes a guy's gotta solve his own problems. Can't go through life with somebody holding your hand all the damn time."

"It's OK if they hold your boner, though," I cracked. "Hey, when are we gonna see the video?"

"My folks are out. We can watch it there."

"Nah... I want Pop to see it. Actually, I wanna watch Pop while he's looking at the pics."

"Don't you think he's been embarrassed enough already today?"

"You don't understand Pop like I do. He enjoys being embarrassed. It's like some kinda game with him."

"And it gives me an excuse to drink more brandy."

We all turned to see Pop, clad in his towel, emerging from the house, with Jason behind him. Both guys were smiling.

"So what happened?" I asked. "Everything OK?"

"Yep," Jason rejoined our seated circle. "Everything's just fine."

"Pop?" I asked as the old guy planted his butt between me and Paul, then arranged his towel so that nobody could peek. "You gonna tell us what happened?"

"Maybe it's better if Jason tells you."

Everybody's eyes drilled the young body builder. "Jason?"

"Pop blew me."

Eleven jaws hit the grass, and for a full minute nobody said a word. Then Jason and Pop couldn't contain themselves any longer, and burst into hysterics, followed by the rest of us.

"Assholes," I said, finally. "C'mon, tell us what happened. And no fucking bullshit!"

"I'm not sure, exactly. I was shit scared at first. Took me ages to get up the nerve to knock. Then I realized Pop was pretty cool about everything. Heck, we even got into a convo about weights and stuff, and he had me doing all these poses."

"He was gawking at you? Just you and Pop in his room?"

"Yeah, but it was cool. Kinda gave me a swelled head."

"You get horny, Pop?"

"Not in the least."

"Yeah, right. I would've. In fact, I'm getting a boner now just thinking about it. Hey, this beer's going right through me... gotta take a leak." I walked to the edge of the pool, which was currently an empty hole, and was soon joined by the rest of the guys. "Hey, Pop? You gonna video this? Hold it guys. Wait 'til Pop's ready."

"You're outrageous," the old guy mumbled as he grabbed the camera, then sprinted to the opposite side of the pool. I'd never seen the old guy move so damn fast.

"So how come you're gonna film us?" I cracked. "Admit it, Pop. You love it when I'm outrageous. It blows your hair back. Ready? Ready, guys? And don't forget to wave your piss all over the place. We want some way cool action here."

Twelve jets of yellow hit the air, arced, then plummeted toward the dirt below.

"Hey," Dick laughed as he shook the last drops of piss from his long, thick semi, "we should lift a still from the vid and use it as advertorial in the local rag. 'Muscle Teens Fill Swimming Pool'. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah, my mom would be fucking thrilled about that."

"Hey, dude, just joking. You gotta admit, though, it'd look totally rad in the paper."

"What the fuck are you guys doing to me?" Jason grinned while firing his last few squirts of piss. "My gran would totally freak if she knew about this."

"She doesn't know. None of our folks know. Parents think their kids are perfect. Don't ask me why. Maybe there's some kinda parent gene or whatever that kicks in when we're born. Hey, Pop? Did you do stuff your folks didn't know about? Pop? Hello? Hey, Pop! We've finished pissing. You can stop filming now."

"Huh? Oh... OK."

"Well, did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Jeez. You're fucking hopeless, Pop. Did you do stuff your folks didn't know about when you were a teen?"

"All the time. And I suspect they were the same when they were kids. Heck, they probably did things they kept secret from each other, as well as from me, even during their marriage."

"Pop?" Jason asked as we all returned to our circle on the lawn. "How come you don't act like a parent?"

"'Cause I'm not a parent."

"But you're old enough -- sorry -- I mean, well, you know. We can do stuff in front of you that we'd never do in front of our folks... like just now."

"Maybe it's like Daniel said... some kinda parent gene kicks in. I think it has a lot to do with expectations. Parents have high expectations of their kids, and their kids are aware of those expectations. They feel obligated to live up to them. They don't wanna disappoint their folks. It's an awkward situation really, 'cause it forces the kids to become deceitful... liars by omission. On the other hand, we're all entitled to our private lives."

Half a dozen questions came at once.

"Shuddup, guys," I ordered. "I'm first. Pop? If I were your son, would you be cool about the stuff I do?"

"I'd like to think I would be, but I doubt it."

"Why?"

"I've only known you for a short time. I haven't had the time to develop expectations... well, only a few. I didn't see you in diapers, and have dreams about your future. You're not my flesh and blood. You're not an extension of myself. Anyway, if you were my son, would you be cool about the stuff I do?"

"Hmmm... that's not so easy to answer."

"Pop?" Dick laughed. "This is like one of those TV chat shows, 'cept the audience is naked. Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Earlier, Daniel said that it was impossible not to gawk at me."

"He's damn right."

"Well, I think the same thing about him. Actually, I think the same thing about all the guys. So is that like an ego thing or whatever? 'Cause I kinda get off on dudes checking me out."

"Yes, it's an ego thing."

"Oh... so you're saying it's like a bad thing?"

"It can be, but I don't think it is in your case. You seem pretty level-headed to me."

"Jeez!" I said, realizing a few truths about myself. "What does that say about me? You know what I'm like, Pop. You've seen me. I strut around like some fucking peacock... like I'm the most important person in the world."

"Are you?"

"Of course not!"

"So how important are you?"

"I dunno. What kinda question is that?"

"He is the most important person in the world," Paul insisted. "At least, he is as far as I'm concerned."

"Jeez, Paul!"

"Don't 'Jeez Paul' me, Daniel. You know I think you rule."

"So what's that supposed to make me? King-fucking-Kong?"

"Settle, boys," Pop chuckled. "Something very interesting is going on here. Anybody heard the expression, "I am what you think I am?""

"That doesn't make sense, Pop."

"Why not, Daniel?"

"'Cause we're all what we think we are, not what somebody else thinks we are."

"Really? Well, let me tell you what I think I am. I'm a tired old fart who writes ridiculous stories about even more ridiculous teens, and I drink far too much, and I get around in a towel."

"That's bullshit, Pop. You rock."

"I do?"

"Yeah, you do. Right guys?"

"Yeah!"

"And you make wicked burgers," Jo added with a giggle.

"Has the penny dropped yet?" Pop smiled.

"What fucking penny?"

"Jeez, you can be thick sometimes, Daniel," Benny laughed. "A second ago you said that we're all what we think we are. Then, when Pop told you what he thought he was, you said he was wrong."

"OK, smartass. A minute ago, I told Pop that I was like some kinda peacock who owned the whole fucking world. Did he argue with that?"

"Is that really what you think of yourself, Daniel?"

"Gimme a break, Pop. You've seen me. You've seen me parading around the fucking joint like I owned it... teasing you and all that kinda shit."

"I could've stopped you, but I didn't."

"That's 'cause you're cool."

"Is it? Or is it because I think you're cool?"

"You're wrong, Pop. How can we be what other people think we are? A while ago, Jason thought you were a dirty old man, and now he doesn't."

"Who said I don't?" Jason cracked, and caused us all to dissolve into belly laughs.

"I'm not so sure I fully comprehend this, either," Pop continued after acknowledging Jason's comment with a grin, "but what I do know is that we can have an opinion of ourselves that's contrary to the way others see us -- and we can have an opinion of them that's contrary to theirs."

"If that's the case, Pop," Dick suggested, "then we're all wrong about ourselves as well as each other."

"Maybe it's not a case of being right or wrong. Maybe it's case of accepting what is agreeable to us. Daniel's right. He swans around the place like he owns it, exuding confidence, and getting a buzz outa turning me into a quivering wreck. For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction. I'm his ideal audience... or one of them. I'm sure he loves to give you guys a hard time, too."

"You're rambling, Pop," I said. "That still doesn't explain all that crap about us being what somebody else thinks we are."

"Perhaps it doesn't. But how much do other people's perceptions of us really matter? If you were alone on a desert island, who would you be then?"

"Jeez, Pop. You've had too much fucking brandy. I'd be me, of course! How could I be anybody else?"

"And who would you tease? Who would laugh at your jokes? Who would love you? Who would you love?"

"Is there such a thing as a talking palm tree?"

"I don't think so."

"OK, so I'm a strutting peacock who thinks his shit doesn't stink. Are you saying that's OK?"

"Well, if you ask me..."

"Shuddup, Paul. The question was for Pop."

"You are what I think you are, Daniel. And, according to you, I'm not a tired old fart. That'll do me just fine. I prefer your opinion of me to my own."

"You're crazy, Pop."

"I'll accept that."

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