San Francisco
Part 19

It had been a pretty warm day, so it surprised all of us when a sudden rush of unexpected cool air entered the room. That was followed by a flash of lightning, then, a few seconds later, by a clap of thunder that shook the heavens. Spencer leapt from his chair, rushed to the back door and closed it just as a second bolt of lightning appeared outside the windows. He'd no sooner parked his naked butt back on the chair, when the whole house reverberated with a massive bang that caused Bugsy to leap onto the couch between Willie and me. Then the night sky rumbled loudly with a series of angry echoes.

"Dogs hate thunder," I said as I petted the golden retriever and tried to calm him. "Hey, Bugsy, it's OK, boy. It's only a storm."

"He doesn't know that," Willie advised as he also petted the dog. "To him it's totally deafening. That's all he knows. And he doesn't understand what causes lightning and thunder. It's natural to fear what he doesn't understand. Actually, we humans are the same."

The windows glowed briefly as another flash of brilliant lightning lit the surrounding earth and sky. Then we waited apprehensively for the inevitable crack of thunder, which, when it arrived, sounded as though it had enough power to easily split the planet into two halves. Whoa!

"We're the same?" I asked after the rumbling had faded. "How come we understand lightning and thunder, and it still scares the fuck out of us?"

"You're scared?" Spencer laughed. "You? Daniel the Fearless?"

"Not exactly scared," I backtracked, "but, hey, you've gotta admit that an electrical storm makes one helluva fucking racket! Can you imagine what early man must've thought when he saw those jagged fingers of lightning suddenly appearing outa nowhere, zapping all over the damn place, and illuminating an angry black sky? I can imagine him and his missus and kids dressed in their animal skins, all bug-eyed like in a Gary Larson cartoon, sitting around a flickering fire in their open-ended cave while the ground shook with the violent fury of thunder."

"Jeez! What was that, dad?"

"The god of thunder, son. And before him was the god of lightning. They're having a competition to see who can frighten us the most."

"Are you frightened, dad?"

"I used to be when I was your age, son. Then I got married and realized that nothing could possibly be more frightening than your mother."

"I dunno about you guys," Spencer interrupted, "but I'm getting kinda chilly. How about we hit the sack?"

But before we decided to take Spencer's advice and head for the bedroom, all of us somehow crammed ourselves into the shower and soaped each other's bods in the warm, steamy confines of the glass cubicle.

What was it about another dude's skin that became so incredibly horny when it was slippery and wet? Whatever it was, it sure beat the hell outa soaping your own bod. Somehow, all of Spencer's and Willie's curves and bumps had become even more awesomely erotic as my hands glided effortlessly over their shiny, smooth surfaces... especially their chests and buns. Woohoo! And while my hands were enjoying the sensation of exploring their slippery, soapy bods, theirs were doing likewise to mine.

Eventually, we rinsed the suds off our polished, tanned skins, then stepped outa the shower to towel each other. That was awesome fun, too, especially when Spencer lifted one foot at a time so that I could dry between his toes. Then he dried mine.

"Willie's right, Daniel. You do have sexy feet."

"How come people don't have sexy elbows?"

"Are you saying that my elbows aren't sexy?"

"Sorry."

A minute later, we were all cosy and warm under the covers in Spencer's bed, with me in the middle. By then, the storm had passed, but it was still raining.

"Did I tell you that I'm gonna knock that wall down?"

"Tonight?"

"No," Spencer cracked. "But Willie and I have talked about knocking the wall down to make one large bedroom outa two."

"And we're gonna install a fireplace," Willie added.

"Wow! How cool! Imagine if it was there now. We could sit on the floor in front of it and watch the logs burning. There's something totally awesome about watching flames... you kinda get lost in them, and think about all kinds of neato stuff."

"Sounds a bit romantic for you, Daniel."

"I'm talking about a fireplace, Willie, not a bunch of flowers. So does it get cold in SF?"

"Quite often... even in summer. It gets very hot a few miles inland and the air rises, drawing in fog and cold air from the ocean. But on the other side of Twin Peaks, near where you and Pop are staying, it can be a lot warmer and less foggy. Go ten miles in any direction, except west, in the summer and it can be twenty degrees warmer."

"Like here under the blankets. Sometimes it's neat when it's cold and raining 'cause you can snuggle up in bed like we are now."

"That's one of my fav things," Spencer smiled. "I love to sleep late, cuddled up to one of my buds."

"Are you romantic?"

"Depends on what you mean. I'm not into candle-lit dinners for two. I'm more into steak barbecues outdoors and lots of beer. But I guess I do have a soft spot for hugging and cuddling and stuff like that. I wouldn't call that romantic, though. Would you?"

"You didn't look romantic on the Bay when you were windsurfng. You looked totally wicked... like some kinda hero."

"You know what you were saying earlier tonight, about not wanting to be thirty or whatever?"

"Yeah."

"Does it really worry you?"

"I just can't imagine myself not being who I am right now."

"Were you happy this time last year?"

"Yep."

"And do you think you'll be happy this time next year?"

"Can't see why not."

"Well, maybe that's the problem. You're thinking fifteen years ahead instead of just one or two. Know what I mean? You don't suddenly go from being a teen to being thirty. There's a whole bunch of years in between, so it's a gradual process. It's like what Willie was saying before about putting down new roots... you get used to where you are and you don't wanna go back."

"So when I'm thirty I won't wanna be a teen again?"

"I can't say for certain 'cause I haven't been there yet, but I'm sure you've heard the expression "been there, done that". Anyway, take Motor Mouth for example. He can't wait to be old enough to drive a car and shit like that. And me? I sure don't wanna go back to being his age. No way, man."

"Been there, done that, huh? Hmmm. I guess that makes sense. So I won't even think about being thirty... or even twenty... I'll just think about here and now."

"Don't knock being twenty," Willie laughed. "I'm twenty. Twenty's cool. Anyway, if you spend all your time worrying about the future, or living in the past, you're not gonna appreciate the present. That's not to say that you shouldn't have dreams, though. Dreams are cool. Tell me something, Daniel, are you a happy little blonde spunk being sandwiched between two incredibly good looking hunks right now?"

"Who the fuck's little? Huh? OK, so I'm not six feet tall. Big fucking deal. But I'm... well, you said I was an eleven."

"Maybe a twelve."

"You're just saying that 'cause you're feeling horny, and you're playing with my nads. Nah... Kyle's a twelve. And Paul's a twelve... Kyle's Paul, that is. The guys in Manchester must've been bowled over big time when Paul arrived. Woohoo!"

"That good, huh?"

"He seriously makes you melt. Not that he tries to. He's a regular guy... I mean, he laughs and jokes about ordinary stuff, and he's a wicked surfer. But there are times when he looks at you, and you kinda go all weird and gooey. Kyle does that, too. Something in his eyes. Dunno what exactly. Spencer's got it, too."

"I do?" Spencer asked as his hand fondled my pec for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah. But it's worse with you 'cause you play the piano. I mean, how many hunks play the piano? Jeez! One minute you're skimming across the Bay looking like Mr Awesome, and the next you're making the most incredible music with your fingers. How do you do all that? It's like the two things aren't supposed to go together. And then you cook awesome food. And you talk about remodelling the house and installing a fireplace... just you and Willie... hands on. And now you're laying alongside me and feeling my bod, and smiling at me with THAT smile! Actually, it's a bit like the way Kyle smiles. That spiky-haired fucker could get you to do almost anything he wanted."

"Hey!" Willie intervened. "What about my smile?"

"Yours is different. Yours is kinda crazy. You're more of a comedian."

"So I'm not sexy?"

"Yeah... but funny sexy... not serious sexy like Spencer is. Don't get me wrong, Willie. Funny sexy is cool. Just different."

"You're confusing me, Daniel."

"Hey, I'm confusing myself, dammit! Anyway, I can understand why you guys are such totally cool friends. You complement each other. You share stuff."

"Including you."

"Yeah," I cracked. "How come you guys don't get jealous?"

"Of what?"

"Me," I shrugged. "I mean, you've both said that I'm pretty hot, so like... y'know... like there's only one of me and there's two of you. Know what I mean? Hmmm. I guess you guys are a bit like Paul and me. We're best buds, but we kinda get involved with our other buds... me more than him, though. He can get a bit possessive at times. Not to mention romantic. Are you guys like that?"

"Nope," Spencer answered. "Willie and I have a pretty good relationship. We windsurf together, spend a lotta time here at the house together, sleep together, enjoy each other's company and whatever, but we have other friends. We're lovers as well as friends, but not exclusively. Does that make sense?"

"More than you know. I get the feeling that you guys would do anything for each other, but it's not like a possessive thing. There's room to move. It was the same when I went to Cape Town and visited Kyle. Kyle and Paul were lovers, but it didn't stop me from falling in love with Kyle, and even a bit with Paul. Fucking hell, we were all into it... I mean, sex... big time! And love as well. But there was no jealousy or anything. No, that's not quite true. There was a bit, but it soon got sorted out. In the end, we were one big happy family."

"One big incestuous family."

"Yeah," I giggled, "I guess it kinda sounds that way. But it wasn't like having sex meant you owned a person. And that's the way it is with my buds in Tampa. Hey, we all dig a bit of rad sex. Right? It's totally cool. But it's like the way you guys are. I mean, just 'cause you share a whole bunch of stuff doesn't mean you've gotta be handcuffed. Right?"

"Back in the '70s it was all about free love, but it didn't last," Spencer commented thoughtfully. "Everything was cool... drugs, sex, nudity, rebellion, weird clothes, anarchism, whatever. But those hippies are now respectable, middle-aged monogamous moms and dads in suburbia telling their kids to behave themselves."

"You mean like one person, one lover, and that's it?"

"I think that's the way it eventually goes. I think when you're a teen you experiment a lot. Sounds pretty natural and normal to me. Why wouldn't you? How else could you make a decision about love? Hello? You go to a wine tasting and there's only one glass? Actually, that's not a bad analogy. Wine tastings are all about experiencing different flavors and bouquets, and judging them according to your palate, then choosing the one or ones you prefer. As far as human relationships go, though, I guess you kinda focus on a particular person after a while. My parents and grandparents did, so I guess that's the way it works... not that it's happened to me yet."

"Have you got a cellar?"

"Yep."

"How many different wines?"

"OK... so maybe the wine tasting thing wasn't such a good analogy. Hey, Daniel, I'm not an expert. OK? All I know is that my parents and grandparents were monogamous, and still are. Maybe gays are different. I really don't know. Maybe it's possible to love more than one person... sexually, I mean. Maybe the love gays have for each other isn't as deep or as intense as it is with my folks. What I do know is that there's no way my mom and dad would have a third lover sharing their bed."

"So what does that say about us?"

"Who knows? Maybe there's no such thing as right or wrong. Maybe right is what feels right, and wrong is what feels wrong. Does it feel wrong for you to be here?"

"Nope."

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