I Came Out of the Closet, and That Night I Was His

The streetlamp in the alley flickered: light, shadow, light again. I was sitting on the curb, my legs weak, watching the blue-faced watch Luca had given me roll across the asphalt until it stopped beside the feet of my former coach.

He crouched down and picked it up carefully, without looking up.

—You dropped this —he said—. My fault. I'm sorry.

His voice no longer had an edge. It was deep, but soft, as if it were dragging some weight around inside. I stood up, my coat feeling twice as heavy, and took the watch he held out to me. I clenched it in my fist. Then I looked at him.

His eyes were red. Not with anger: with something older and more worn-out. Guilt.

—I’m sorry, Dani —he murmured—. For the way I treated you. For what I tried to do. There’s no name for it. I lost my head.

I said nothing. I only wanted to leave.

—I’ve started going to therapy —he continued, looking at the cracked pavement—. You don’t have to forgive me. I just needed to tell you. When I saw you come into the store, I couldn’t leave without talking to you.

—It’s okay —I said quietly. And, strange as it seemed, I believed him.

—It isn’t okay. It’s something I’ll never forgive myself for. You trusted me, and I took advantage of you.

—I forgive you —I cut in—. As long as you never behave like that again. Ever. With anyone.

He nodded slowly.

—I swear. I work as a mechanic now, out on the outskirts. I don’t think it’s good for me to be around places with kids.

A gust of wind dragged dry leaves along the curb. There was no one else in the street.

—I have to go —I said.

I walked away feeling his gaze on my back. It didn’t hurt anymore. But what he had done, what he had tried to do, had lodged itself in me like February cold in my bones.

***

I got home to the smell of homemade lasagna floating through the dining room, that aroma of toasted cheese and sweet tomato that only my mother knew how to create. I put the gift in my desk drawer and sat down at the table.

We ate dinner almost without speaking. Me in the middle, my mother on my left, my sister Lucía on my right. The television murmured through a documentary about Ancient Egypt, hidden tombs and forgotten mummies. Lucía was talking about her degree, about child development, a subject she had on her exam. I wasn’t listening. My right leg was trembling beneath the table, as if it wanted to run away without me.

And then, in the gap between one of her sentences and a pause from the television, I blurted it out.

—Mom… I’m gay.

I threw it into the air like someone tossing a stone into water without wanting to see the rebound. My mother stopped looking at the screen. I wasn’t breathing.

—I like men —I added—. Luca… Luca is my boyfriend.

I felt dizzy. Lucía turned toward me, not surprised by what I had said, but by how I had said it: so abruptly. My mother blinked and slowly turned around. Her face was calm, but thoughtful, as if she were rewinding, searching for signs she had missed.

Lucía brushed my hand beneath the table. She said nothing. She was simply there.

—Are you sure? —my mother finally asked.

—Yes.

—Was it because of that boy? Because of Luca? —she already wanted to blame him; I knew her.

—No, Mom. I’ve known for years.

She looked back at the television, though she wasn’t seeing anything anymore. She remained silent for one endless moment.

—Then he’ll have to come over for dinner more often, right? —and she smiled at me.

—You’re… you’re not angry? —I asked, confused.

—Angry? —She stood up, brushed a lock of hair from my forehead, and hugged me—. You’re my son. Of course I’m not angry.

I hugged her tightly and burst into tears. Lucía stood up and joined the embrace, and the three of us stayed there, clinging to one another while the lasagna cooled on our plates.

***

Friday dawned beneath a sky covered with dense clouds, matte gray, as if the week had been so heavy that even the sky needed to rest. The four of us walked toward the faculty, backpacks hanging from one shoulder, speaking more with our hands than our mouths: me, Yassine, Hugo, and Pablo.

—Weekend at last. I can’t wait to hang out with Carla —Hugo said with his usual little grin—. She told me she’d be home alone.

—And what are you going to do? Play video games? —Yassine shot back, elbowing him.

—Laugh it up —Hugo laughed—. I’m going to split her pussy in two, I’m telling you. She’s been sending me pictures with her tits out all week. I’ll tell you all about it.

I smiled, but didn’t speak. The cold weighed more heavily in my mouth than on my skin, in the words that never quite managed to come out. Yassine, the Moroccan, was bragging about some new girl he’d fucked the previous weekend, describing in detail how she had dragged him to the sofa, pulled down his trousers, and sucked him until she made him swallow; the others laughed and played along. I laughed too, unable to stop myself from remembering the night Yassine and Hugo had initiated me in my own bedroom, long before Luca, when between the two of them they opened me up for the first time and showed me what it was like to have two hard cocks on top of me at once.

Before crossing the rusted entrance gate, I stopped dead.

—Guys, I have to tell you something.

All three turned around. Hugo was still chewing gum; Pablo tilted his head, as he always did when he couldn’t figure out where you were going. I swallowed.

—It’s about Luca. Luca is my boyfriend.

They looked at one another. I couldn’t decipher their expressions.

—Luca? —Hugo asked, raising his eyebrows.

—Yes. I wanted you to know before anyone else.

—So you’re coming out of the closet? —Pablo asked.

—Look, I’m not going to go shouting it around. But if someone asks me, I’m not going to deny it.

The silence was strange. Not heavy, but like the moment when an entire class falls silent at once.

—Cousin —Hugo put his arm around my neck—. I’m glad you’ve finally come out of there. And Luca’s a fucking great guy. I really am happy for you.

—Let’s be honest, you’re not exactly catching us by surprise either —Yassine added, pointing at me and smiling—. But I’m glad. You two make a good couple.

Pablo remained silent. I looked at him, waiting. For a moment he seemed annoyed, and I didn’t understand why. Then he came closer and hugged me.

—I’m happy for you, man. But I do have one question… —he pulled away with a crooked smile—. Who does what with whom? Come on, who puts it in and who takes it up the ass?

—You’re an idiot —I gave him an affectionate shove, and they all burst out laughing.

I felt the blood return to my legs. The fact that my friends took it so naturally lifted an enormous weight from me. They were the same as ever, the ones who had never let me down.

***

Classes ended with the usual noise: chairs scraping, folders slamming shut, isolated shouts in the corridors. I said goodbye to the guys at the door. I had plans with Luca: it was our first Valentine’s Day.

I found him a couple of streets away, leaning against a traffic sign, a black backpack on his shoulder and his eyes fixed on his phone. That small smile of his, the one that didn’t show his teeth but said more than any other. We greeted each other with an exchange of glances.

—Shall we go? —I said.

We got on an almost empty bus and sat at the back, beside the window. He was still on his phone.

—Any news on your social media? —I asked.

—Nope. Still stuck at the same number of followers.

—Just wait until summer, when you start posting shirtless pictures —I teased him. He shoved me against the window, laughing.

—So, did you tell your mother in the end?

—Yes. It shocked her a little, but she took it well. She says you have to come over for lunch more often.

—And your friends?

—All of them. It went well too.

—And you? Does your mother know? —I asked.

—I told her this morning. She took it pretty badly. She says she wanted grandchildren —we both laughed.

The bus made a slow turn, and the evening light entered through the window in an orange shade that seemed to melt over the seats. We didn’t speak for a while. There was no need. Beneath his coat, Luca found my hand and placed it on his thigh, very close to the bulge already beginning to show through his trousers. He glanced at me, biting his lip, saying nothing. I squeezed his cock through the fabric and felt it harden beneath my fingers. I pulled my hand away abruptly, laughing under my breath, and he whispered in my ear, “Tonight you’re going to shit yourself,” in a hoarse voice that raised gooseflesh on my neck.

***

We got off at our stop, and there it was: the same pizzeria as last time, the same red sign, the same smell of hot dough wafting onto the sidewalk. When we went in, the heat from the oven hit us full in the face, mixed with oregano, melted cheese, and barbecue sauce.

Behind the counter was Jamal, the guy who had served us the other time. The same guy who, months earlier, had fucked me out back, beside the parking lot, his dark cock pulled out through his fly and my face pressed against the hood of a car. When he saw us together, he winked at us, and for a second I had the feeling he was licking his lips as he remembered how he had left my ass that night. Luca noticed and looked at me; I looked away nervously.

—A large one with extra cheese, bacon, chicken, and tuna —Luca ordered.

—Good combination —Jamal commented—. Anything to drink?

—A fresh orange juice —I said.

—I’ll have a double cola —Luca said, smiling at me.

—That has a lot of sugar —I scolded him.

—Nah. I’ll work it off tonight by fucking you until you can’t walk —he replied quietly, with a look that left no doubt.

We sat at the back, where the lights were dimmer and the dark wooden tables were half-hidden behind screens. I sat beside the large window looking out onto the street. It was beginning to drizzle.

—I think there’s going to be a storm —I said.

—I like rain —he replied.

The pizza arrived huge, hot, and crisp. We ate slowly, each bite an excuse for another stupid joke, laughing as if we were the only people in that corner of the world. When I couldn’t eat another bite, I leaned back.

—I’m full.

And we fell silent. Not uncomfortably: it was that warm silence that comes when you’re full of something more than food. Luca leaned toward me, his eyes half-closed.

—Come here —he murmured.

I understood at once, but my body held back. There were families, children, an older couple two tables away. I leaned back a little.

—Seriously? —He pursed his lips.

—There are a lot of people, Luca…

He sighed and rolled his eyes, then took my face in both hands, slowly but without hesitation.

—Then let them look.

And he kissed me. It wasn’t long or scandalous, but it was firm, warm, real. I felt his breath, the brush of his nose, the precise pressure of his lips, and I let myself be carried away. When we parted, I opened my eyes halfway. He was smiling.

—See? Nothing happened.

I looked around. A group of girls at another table was watching us; one of them gave us a thumbs-up, smiling. I was embarrassed and hid my face in my arms on the table while Luca laughed and drank through his straw.

***

The storm broke when we went outside. First came the wind, blowing in from the corners as if it were pushing the buildings inward. Then the sky, so dark that the grays looked black, split by lightning like white cracks. And finally the rain: no longer drops, but knives of water falling straight down.

We had no umbrellas. We ran from awning to awning, laughing, soaked to the bone, our backpacks on the verge of spilling water. The street had emptied, as if the entire city had surrendered. A few yards away, half-hidden behind a row of overgrown bushes, we found a park I didn’t remember ever having set foot in.

—Shall we go in? —Luca asked, panting, his hair plastered to his forehead.

The swings stood motionless and soaked, the slides shining like mirrors. And at the back, through the mist of the rain, we saw it: a play structure shaped like a giant dragon, red and weathered, with yellow eyes and painted scales along its sides. It looked like a sleeping animal in the middle of the mud.

We climbed up a side ramp and crawled inside the dragon’s hollow body. It smelled of wet plastic. We sat with our legs drawn up, shivering.

—This is crazy —I said, laughing quietly.

Luca didn’t answer. He moved closer, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and rested his head against mine. Rain hammered the dragon’s roof with a hypnotic, almost soothing sound, as if the world were washing itself clean while we hid inside the belly of a plastic beast.

—I have something for you —I said, reaching into my jacket. I pulled out a gold-colored box, slightly crushed and damp—. For Valentine’s Day.

—Now?

—What better place than inside a dragon in the rain?

He laughed, and with cold fingers began undoing the ribbon. The wrapping opened as if exhaling, and inside appeared the watch: silver, with an intense blue face, minimalist and elegant. Exactly like him. He turned it over in his hands to see it from every angle; the little light coming in caught flashes on the metal.

—I love it —he said, and his voice sounded sincere, almost vulnerable.

He fastened it around his right wrist, since he was left-handed, and looked at me.

—It’s the best gift anyone has ever given me.

He leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t like the kiss in the pizzeria, impulsive or rebellious. It was slow, full of something that didn’t need a name. I closed my eyes. The plastic creaked beneath us, the rain continued to pour, and yet inside it seemed as if the world had stopped just for us.

When we parted, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a brochure, damp around the edges. Old squares, ruins, a sunny coast, words in Italian.

—It’s Italy. Where I was born —he explained—. We have a house near Briosco, in Brianza. Woods, fields, a beautiful place. My mother has already arranged everything: at the end of June we’re going to spend the summer there. I’d like you to come with me.

My heart gave a leap that almost hurt.

—Seriously? I don’t know what to say… —my eyes grew red.

—Just say yes. You’ll see where I grew up and eat real pasta. I’ll teach you Italian, I promise.

I nodded without hesitation and threw my arms around him. His body was still trembling a little from the cold, but there was room for nothing in that embrace except certainty.

—I love you —I whispered in his ear.

He went still for half a second, as if he wanted to hold on to the moment, and then answered very softly, in Italian:

—Anch'io ti amo, Dani.

I didn’t speak Italian, but I didn’t need to ask. I understood it in his voice, in his eyes, in the watch shining with every flash of lightning.

Luca put the brochure away, looked at me with darkened eyes, and shoved me in the chest until I was lying on the dragon’s floor. The cold plastic struck my back through my soaked sweatshirt. He climbed on top of me astride and began kissing my neck, licking my earlobe, biting my jaw. I felt his cock, still trapped inside his wet jeans, pressing against my bulge in a slow rocking motion that already had me hard as a rock.

—Fuck, Dani… —he panted against my neck—. I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon.

He sat up, took off his soaked coat, and yanked off his shirt. His bare torso appeared before me, glistening with rain, his nipples hard from the cold, the fine trail of hair running from his navel until it disappeared beneath his waistband. I ran my hands over his chest, pinched one nipple between my fingers, and he let out a hoarse moan. I pulled his head down sharply to kiss him again, this time with my whole tongue inside his mouth, biting his lip and sucking it.

My hands dropped to his fly. I undid the button, pulled down the zipper, and slipped my hand into his boxers. His cock sprang free, hard and thick, its purple head already beaded with pre-cum. I gripped it at the base and began jerking him slowly, watching his skin tighten with every stroke.

—Suck it —he demanded hoarsely—. Suck it now, goddammit.

I sat up halfway and took him into my mouth. He went all the way in, to the base, until I felt his hair against my lips and his balls resting on my chin. I began sucking him hungrily, moving my head up and down, sucking the head when I reached the top, spitting on him so he would slide more easily. He grabbed my hair with both hands and began fucking my mouth, setting the pace, pushing it down my throat until I gagged.

—That’s it, that’s it, fuck… swallow it, swallow it all —he growled.

I licked his balls one by one and sucked them while continuing to jerk him off. I felt him tremble, and he pulled his cock out with a jerk, panting.

—Stop, stop, I’m going to come and I don’t want to. Not yet.

He lay me back down and yanked off my jeans, then my boxers. My cock sprang free, hard, pointing toward my navel. He took it into his mouth without warning, all the way to the base, and I let out a moan that vanished into the roar of the storm. He sucked me quickly, his lips tight around me, moving his head up and down as if he had been starving for hours. He moved down my shaft, sucked my balls, took them into his mouth one by one, and kept going lower.

He lifted my legs and rested them on his shoulders. I felt his hot tongue at my asshole and arched my back with pleasure. He ate me out slowly, spitting on me, licking it, thrusting his tongue as deeply as he could, soiling me with saliva. He pushed in one finger, then two, slowly working them in and opening me up while continuing to suck my cock at the same time. I trembled, clutching at whatever part of the dragon’s plastic I could find, moaning helplessly.

—Fuck me now, Luca, please —I begged—. Put it in me now.

He sat up, spat into his hand, and rubbed it over his cock. He placed it against my entrance, wet and throbbing, and began to push. I felt the head forcing its way in, my ass giving under the force of his thrust, as he entered little by little until, with one final thrust, he buried himself to the balls. I let out a half-sob, caught between pain and pleasure. Luca stopped, leaned over me, and ate my mouth without moving, letting me feel him throbbing inside, his cock pulsing against my walls.

—Fuck, you’re so tight… —he panted against my lips.

Then his hips began to move. He pulled out slowly, almost all the way, and drove back into me with a hard thrust. I let out a muffled cry. He repeated the movement, faster each time, deeper each time. The pace built until they were no longer thrusts but hard, brutal blows that made the plastic creak beneath my back. His balls slapped against my ass with a wet smack each time.

—Take my cock, fuck… —he growled, squeezing my neck—. This ass is mine, do you hear me? Mine.

—Yours, all yours —I panted—. Fuck me, Luca, fuck me harder.

He pulled out, turned me over, and put me on all fours. He grabbed my hips and drove into me again with a hard thrust, and I cried out against the dragon’s floor. He began fucking me doggy-style, his palms squeezing my buttocks and spreading them apart so he could watch his cock slide in and out. He spat on his finger and ran it over my stretched asshole, around his own cock, as if playing with the sight of me spread open.

—Look at me putting it in you, fuck. Look at how your ass eats it.

I let my head drop and arched my ass, pushing backward so he would drive deeper. He put his thumb in my mouth, and I sucked it as if it were another cock. Rain poured down outside; our moans and the slap of flesh against flesh disappeared beneath the roar of water against the plastic. No one could hear us, and yet we screamed as if we wanted to shatter the storm.

He turned me over again and laid me on my back. He lifted one leg and rested it on his shoulder, then penetrated me from the side, at an angle that hit my prostate directly. I began trembling all over, my cock bouncing against my belly with every thrust, leaking fluid.

—Right there, Luca, right there, don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop…

We stopped speaking. There was only panting, moans, the wet smack of our bodies, and the storm above us. His eyes locked on mine, mine on his, and that connection you feel only when someone is literally inside you and carrying you somewhere else. My hands traveled over his body, his shoulders, his back, his buttocks, pulling him toward me so he would drive deeper.

I don’t know how long it lasted. Time had frozen; the only thing moving forward was the rhythm of his thrusts. He began jerking me off hard while he sped up, squeezing my cock in his fist, moving up and down in time with his hips. Every blow ran up my back like an electric shock. We were sweating, exhausted, staring at each other. He held my neck with his free hand, squeezing lightly, and drove deep inside me several times in a row, growling through clenched teeth.

—Come with me, Dani, come with me, fuck…

And I came like I couldn’t remember ever having done before. My cum burst in streams across my chest and his, long and thick, while my ass clenched in spasms around his cock. My contractions dragged him over the edge. I felt his cock swell inside me, pulse powerfully, and suddenly explode in hot bursts that flooded me from within. He emptied himself completely, his head thrown back, mouth open, biting his lip to keep from shouting. Shot after shot, I felt him filling me, his semen beginning to overflow while he still had himself buried inside me.

He collapsed, spent, on my chest, his cock still buried in me and throbbing. We looked at each other, our breathing gradually slowing, and smiled. He kissed me on the lips, slowly, with his tongue, as he withdrew from me very slowly. I felt his cum run out, hot, between my thighs. He lowered his gaze, saw it spilling out, and looked back up with a foolish smile.

—I filled you completely —he whispered.

—I can feel it, you bastard —I replied, laughing with whatever breath I had left.

He got dressed and lay down beside me. I pulled my clothes back on as best I could, my ass still dripping and my legs like jelly, and we lay there staring at the dragon’s ceiling, witness to his first time, to ours. I stroked his cheek. Outside, the rain was beginning to weaken. And then I knew it: I would never leave Luca.

***

Time kept moving forward, as it always does, and June arrived. I passed the year; the next one would be the final year of my degree. One hot morning we were at Yassine’s house, around the garden pool, with the sun beating down on the gray tiles.

I was sitting on the edge, my legs in the water. In the pool, Luca was having diving races with Hugo while Yassine tried to climb onto an inflatable flamingo without tipping it over. They laughed and splashed, and for a second we didn’t look like people in their twenties, but like kids who had survived the winter and everything that came with it.

The sound of flip-flops dragging made me turn. It was Pablo, who dropped down beside me with a sigh.

—Fucking heat —he muttered. We remained quiet for a moment, with only the movement of the water and the laughter in the background—. It bothers me that you’re leaving.

—It’s only two months —I said.

—Yeah. But it’s like when one person stays in class while everyone else goes on a field trip.

—I’ll write to you every day.

—Liar. You’ll be busy with Luca’s cock down your throat —he glanced sideways at me—. You know? There was a moment when I thought I was losing you.

I turned my head toward him.

—Losing me how?

—I don’t know. You connected so well with Luca that I got jealous. I thought that, now you had him, you wouldn’t need the rest of us anymore. Me. And it fucked me up.

—It isn’t like that —I said, looking at the water.

—I know that now. It was jealousy without any basis. It’s just that I shared some very intimate things with you, and sometimes I felt confused. —He shrugged—. Don’t worry, I’m still straight; a wet pussy and a good pair of tits still turn me on. But it took me a while to understand that some friendships can be so strong they end up confusing you.

I looked at him in surprise. In his eyes was that uncomfortable sincerity that only comes out on hot days, when someone is tired of keeping things bottled up.

—Thanks for telling me —I replied.

—Don’t get used to it. Besides, Luca’s the one who spreads your legs and fills your ass with cum —and he laughed.

—You bastard! —I shoved him into the water with one swat, and everyone burst out laughing again.

Luca climbed out of the pool, dripping wet, drops sliding from his neck down his chest, over his abs, and disappearing inside his trunks, which clung obscenely to the bulge. He sat down on my left, his knee brushing mine.

—Everything okay? —he asked.

—Everything’s great —I said, looking at them all.

Yassine’s father appeared on the terrace with a tray of kebabs wrapped in aluminum foil, and the others swam over, splashing in every direction. Luca offered me half of his dürüm; I took a bite and noticed my friends watching us.

—Kiss! —Hugo demanded.

—Yeah, kiss! —the others chimed in.

We refused amid laughter, but in the end I swallowed and kissed Luca amid the jokes and teasing. And there we all were, as if nothing had changed and, at the same time, as if everything had. I rested my head on his shoulder. He said nothing; he simply put his arm around my back.

At that moment I knew there was no need for a grand ending, or a movie scene. Just that: a simple, genuine moment, after a winter in which I had gone from fear to desire, from uncertainty to finally knowing what it meant to love someone and be loved without conditions.