Ben

A dark wide hand lands on Ben’s shoulder from behind as a deep voice whispers to him “Don’t do anything stupid, son.” Then the man takes another step. He is now between Ben and Paul, and the group of jocks. “Five against two? Is that the sporting rules they teach you in your team?”

The man is tall, muscular and has a deep guttural voice. His clothes are vibrantly colored, covered in sparkly sequins. He has one pendant earring which looks like an ice stalactite, catching every source of light from the busy street whenever he moves. His nails are painted in tile color. His eyes are framed by thick lines of golden eyeliner that contrast nicely with his dark skin. He has a beard that’s accessorized with Viking-style pieces of ornaments.

There is nothing feminine about this man. There is nothing straight either.

If Ben was the kind of person to put people into boxes, he would have no idea how to classify this man. That’s why he loves him so much the moment he appears.

It might also be the real-life superhero thing.

If Ben didn’t already have a very specific type of oblivious, silver-eyed, messy-haired boys – boy, really – he could have a crush right now.

“We didn’t ask you anything princess,” the angry boy spits towards the man.

The man stares at him for a second and starts laughing. It’s a deep happy laugh, as if he heard the funniest joke. “Princess? Oh, my dear boy, if you don’t want me to kick your ass, you will have to learn some manners. Don’t let the glitters cloud your judgment. I could take all five of you and walk away without a scratch.”

The five boys exchange looks. They don’t look so confident anymore, and Ben feels Paul’s hand relax a bit in his.

“Here is what we’re going to do,” the man continues. “You are going to walk away, and we will all forget that we ever met one another. Option number two, I file a suit for sexual harassment for the cock sucking comment directed at what looks like an underaged boy before contacting the team that goes with that really distinctive logo. I’m sure they have a very strict policy regarding this type of behavior.”

The boys exchange looks again, and decide to walk away, looking down one more time at Ben and Paul.

The man turns to them. “Are you alright, boys?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“No ‘sir’ necessary. I’m Adisa.”

“Ben.”

“Paul.”

“Let me get you some coffee.”

“Thank you, but we’re fine, really.”

“I’m sure you are. Now. In five minutes, your adrenaline is going to drop, and you won’t feel like that anymore. I don’t want any of you to be driving when that happens.”

Ben looks at Paul. They are both unsure.

“It’s just coffee, boys. Look, let’s go to that café, there. It’s great, the lady is lovely, and there is a massive window. I won’t be able to abduct any of you. Or we can go where teenagers usually go so it’s a familiar place for you. A Starbucks, maybe.”

They end up going to the café Adisa showed them. Ben, force of habit, gets a hot chocolate. His crisis beverage. Paul gets a Chai latte, whatever that is. Adisa looks at the girl and before he can open his mouth, she says: “Yeah, yeah. The usual. I know.”

“Thanks, Sparkle.”

“No problem, Cookie.”

Okay, so clearly, they know each other. Calling this man cookie would never cross Ben’s mind.

Maybe Adisa was right. Maybe they needed this before driving home. Since they sat down, Ben feels really tired.

“So… what’s your story?” Adisa asks.

Ben and Paul share a look. Then they both smile. For the first time since Ben spotted the baseball players.

“Well isn’t that cute. You two are so precious. Hold on to whatever it is you two have for as long as you can. You’re teenagers. Being in love is the only thing you have to worry about. So do that. Be in love. Real life will start soon enough and, trust me, it can be a bitch.”

“Yeah, we saw that,” Paul mumbles.

“Those five micropenises were nothing, boy,” Adisa says. “I’m not undermining what you’re feeling. You’re probably upset, and you should be. But you’ll get used to pricks like this. You’ll learn how to handle them. You’ll learn how to forget them as quickly as you met them. The worst is going to come from people you know. Comments that will either come in an environment where you feel safe, or even from a place of love. Being called ‘princess’ by an idiot doesn’t bother me. When my mother asks me why I’m doing that to myself… that gets stuck in my head, you know…”

Ben glances at Paul. He doesn’t really talk about it, but he knows that his father’s jokes are still stored at the back of his mind more vividly than anything that happened at school.

Adisa seems to notice the look because he says: “Is it that bad already? School or family?”

“Well…” Ben starts, just as Paul says, “It’s not that bad.” Paul looks at Ben. “It’s really not, Babe.”

“You don’t look like a ‘Babe’,” Adisa comments.

“You don’t look like a ‘Cookie’,” Ben replies.

Adisa has a big, honest, happy laugh. “I’m only her Cookie.”

“I’m only his Babe.”

Adisa’s eyes sparkle with glee for a moment. “You two are something. It was unfortunate circumstances, but I’m happy I got to meet you. Even just for coffee.”

As he says that, the waitress brings the drinks. Maybe it’s because his mom brainwashed him, but Ben feels better as soon as he gets a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Paul replies, “but I’m happy too. Not only because you defused that entire situation, but because you’re actually quite entertaining to talk to.”

“Not as much as you two. You remind me about being young and at the top of the world.”

“I’m sure you were,” Ben comments. “You look like you know how to live life to the fullest.”

Adisa looks down at his clothes. “Yeah, I’m an eccentric. But I didn’t use to be. Not on the outside, anyways. I’m well into my forties. My teenage years were not your teenage years. When I was your age… people thought they were progressive, but they weren’t. Most people aren’t even progressive now. But back then… You didn’t see gay people on TV unless they were a joke, a friend of mine was caught wearing his sister’s dress and his dad beat him up so hard that he ended up in the hospital, and yet the police did nothing. They said it was a family issue. Plus, there was all that thing with AIDS. People were starting to talk about it, to research it, especially after they realized that it wasn’t only male homosexual and promiscuous women who could die from it, but it was still killing a lot of us.”

Adisa gets lost in his thoughts for a minute. “A lot of us,” he repeats, almost to himself. “So, yeah, it doesn’t matter if the two of you make it long term or not. If I have one piece of advice to give you, it’s this one: always bag it.”

Paul’s cheeks get pink, but not bright red and Ben is a bit surprised. He gets it though. There is something about the man in front of them that makes him very comfortable.

“Ooooh, you two haven’t done the dirty deed yet, have you?”

Paul’s face gets a shade darker and Ben really wants to kiss one of those cheeks.

“I remember how shit scared I was,” Adisa says. “But I’m guessing that it’s better now. With all their inclusive stuff, schools probably tell you all about everything.”

“They really don’t,” Ben replies. “But we got the most embarrassing sex talk with our mom’s. We get it. Always bag it. Every time.”

Adisa’s eyes grow a bit wider. “I guess… but if that’s the main line of your education, boys, you’re screwed. Or, on the contrary, you’re gonna find it difficult to be screwed.”

Ben exchanges a look with Paul. “What do you mean?”

“Every idiot knows about unprotected sex. It’s everywhere. It usually stops there because straight people don’t need much more than that. But if the two of you never dipped it anywhere else, condoms are not really your main issue.”

There is a vivid contrast between the crude language Adisa can have and the caring look on his face. Ben, for a reason he doesn’t understand, trusts this man. It seems like he has gay knowledge to share and he looks like he wants to guide them. Ben is sort of relieved to have someone that won’t tell him that sex should be safe, consensual, and fun and leave it at that.

“Boys, I’m sure your moms meant well, but I’m also sure none of them has ever been a gay teenager. Condoms. Always. Get into the habit now. I don’t know what your relationship is like, but cheating happens. Don’t stop using condoms just because he’s your first boyfriend and he has sweet eyes. Of course, there are the big bad ones like HIV, but there are the smaller ones you still don’t want to have. I once had to hold my mate’s hand as a nurse put a Q-tip in his junk. His front junk. It did not look pleasant.”

Ben winces at the idea. Maybe, at that point, it would be better to just let the disease kill him… On a more serious note, though, he would have died if his mom told him that story. But he isn’t really embarrassed talking about it to that flamboyant stranger.

“Still, when you’re going to try things out, you’ll need much more lube than you’ll need condoms. Most girls, bless them, come with a slide-in system installed. We do not.”

“How much do you need to… get in?” Paul asks, and Ben is surprised by his audacity. He would have pictured Paul staying silent in that conversation. Or trying to change the subject.

“As much as you need to feel comfortable. Okay, boys… do you want the full version on this?”

Ben looks at Paul. On the one hand, it’s weird. Having this conversation with a stranger in a – thankfully empty – café. On the other hand, researching this on the Internet felt un-organic and cold, and Ben didn’t like it. Plus, it’s not like anyone else can talk to them about it.

Paul nods.

“Okay. So if you’re going for the backdoor, you can’t just ‘get in’. Fingers first. With lube. Actually, you should do just that for a while. See if you like it. If you manage to make that good every time, then you can move on to a penis. Again, what’re the secret ingredients?”

“Condom and lube,” Ben recites.

“Well done mate. You will maybe have to stop a couple of times to refill on the lube. If it doesn’t slide, don’t force it. Ever. You don’t want to have to be reconstructed down there.”

Paul and Ben exchange a horrified look. Is that actually a thing?

“Don’t make that face, boys. It doesn’t happen frequently. And it won’t happen if you take your time and if the top pays attention to the bottom.”

Another shared look.

“Don’t worry about it, boys.”

“About what?”

“Any of it. In the moment, everything will fall into place. Try things. See what feels right. Stop doing what doesn’t and keep doing what does. Sex isn’t porn, and your sex life isn’t someone else’s sex life. Two of my friends are both tops. They’ve been together twelve years. Plenty of sex. Just no penetration. My neighbor likes to have sex dressed in cosplay. Which I would be fine with if she had blinds on her windows. Don’t do what you think you’re supposed to do. Do what you want to do, and you’re both comfortable with doing. That’s the key to a good sex life.”

Paul takes Ben’s hand under the table. Sex will be somewhat terrifying, they both know it, but it will also be perfectly fine because they will navigate it together.

“Any questions, boys?”

Actually… Ben has a few.

“Okay boys,” Adisa says after walking the

em to Ben’s car. “This is my card. I want you to do two things with it. Keep one for yourself and use it whenever you need. One thing I remember from being your age is that I sometimes craved someone to talk to about stuff. Any time. I’ll pick up. And look at me. You know I won’t judge. Then you’re going to give the other one to your parents and have them call me. I want a chance to introduce myself and talk to them before they hear about the forty years old eccentric who talks to their boys about anal sex.”

Ben takes the cards Adisa got out of his wallet. “Thanks,” he says. “For the cards, for the chat, for the drinks, for your help before…”

“Yeah, thank you,” Paul adds. “It was surreal but nice.”

Adisa laughs again, and Ben realizes that he really enjoys that sound. It sounds genuine. “When you get to my age, you’ll see that nothing seems surreal anymore. But please, stay this sweet for as long as you can. Are you sure you’re good to drive?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, thanks.”

“Okay then. See you later, maybe. If not, have a nice life, boys. Make it worth it and extraordinary, because no one will do it for you.”

And off he goes.

“I could not have imagined him if I tried,” Paul comments.

“I know, right. He’s like a gay vigilante, isn’t he?”

Paul laughs. “You and your superhero complex, honestly…”

Ben is getting ready for bed when his phone buzzes. It’s Paul. Ben loves that after nearly four months, he still has butterflies when he sees Paul’s name on any kind of notification.

So… today was something, right?

Yeah.

I’m sorry about those guys.

I’m sorry they ruined our night out.

They really didn’t.

The restaurant was great, you were amazing.

They were just a hiccup along the way.

So you’re fine?

I am.

Promise.

Promise on the magic T-shirt?

Ooh. That’s a hard one.

I promise on the magic T-shirt.

And you?

I’m fine.

Sure?

I promise on the magic T-shirt 😉

I believe you then.

Plus… if we hadn’t met those guys, we also wouldn’t have met the gay vigilante.

True.

I gave his card to my mom.

She’s been on the phone with him for an hour.

Is he in trouble?

I don’t think so.

I can’t tell what she’s saying, but I’ve heard her laugh.

Impressive.

So…

So?

It was weird, but…

At least that felt like a real sex talk.

It did.

Ben, I’m sorry.

What for?

Taking this slow.

You mean sex?

Yeah

Paul, Love…

You’re not the only one taking this slow.

I don’t want to rush into anything either.

It’s not that I don’t want to.

I really do.

Especially with you.

I love you.

And… you look like that.

I want to, too

And after tonight, for the first time, I feel nervous more than terrified when I think about it.

I still don’t know if I’m ready.

Hey, don’t stress yourself.

It will happen when and if we both want it to.

And it’s like he said.

Baby steps.

Next time we have an empty house, we can try things.

It doesn’t mean we have to go all the way.

I love you.

I love you more.

That’s not a thing.

Okay, I’m gonna go, now.

I have a book in French to read.

That sounds fancy.

Yep.

I have a boyfriend who gets me fancy gifts.

Lucky you.

I know.

He’s great.

But I probably won’t really read the book.

Why not?

I’ll be to busy thinking about all the things he’ll do to me next time we have an empty house.

A little birdie told me he has quite a list planned.

Does he?

Can I get a sneak peek?

Sorry.

It’s classified at the moment.

Fine.

Then I guess I’ll have to create my own list.

Of things you want me to do to you?

Of things I’ll do to you.

Such as what?

Oooh…

So the teasing isn’t so fun when you’re on the other side, is it?

Well, I don’t know.

It’s frustrating.

But it also does things to me.

Babe, you’re killing me.

I guess taking care of that is definitely on my list.

Okay, now, *you’re* killing me!

😉

Sweet dreams.

Trust me, I will.