During my last year in college, I lived in a house where my lease gave me a room by myself and living area that I shared. When my original roommate moved out after the first semester, a junior from Malaysia moved in. I could never learn to pronounce his given name, but he went by Paul. We got along okay, and I learned a little about his country. He was the third Malaysian in my last four roommates, and the first of the three that I hadn't wanted to strangle. He didn't even lock his door when he'd leave. One day I accepted a package for him, so I took it into his bedroom. It wasn't so bad that I'd call it a pig sty, but I couldn't see any place to set the package! I went over to his desk and figured I'd stack some of his papers on top of other papers. I set the package on his chair and looked at his desk top.
Front and center, there was a thin catalog with "XXX" in large print near the top and assorted small rectangular pictures. I picked it up to move it, and I noticed that these were pictures of men. I picked the catalog up, along with some other mail that was underneath, put it on top of the other stuff that was off to the right and placed the package in the space that I'd just cleared. My roommate was gay. Despite my conservative upbringing, I didn't have a problem with it; it just came as a surprise because I'd never known a gay guy before. (As far as I knew. Doubtless, I'd known at least a couple people who didn't choose to reveal that fact to me.) When Paul came home, I told him there was a package on his desk. He thanked me and went to his room, and I didn't see him again that night. Afterward, I remembered that he had left a flier on the kitchen table a few days ago giving the exhibition schedule for the college museum for the semester, and that one of the displays was gay- and lesbian-themed art.
In the months that I'd had this apartment, I never bothered to lock the door when I showered, but the next morning I did. I knew it was silly, not to mention conceited, but knowing that Paul was gay somehow made it seem necessary. While I was in the shower, something unexpected happened. As I sometimes did, I was soaping my dick up and masturbating at the same time, and suddenly in my mind it was Paul doing both jobs. It didn't gross me out. He was standing behind me to do this, so I didn't see his dick to imagine whether it looked like the ones I saw in the catalog. (Which, by the way, were freakishly long, compared to the ones I'd seen in hetero porn.) I came before long, and I imagined my cum gathering on his hand. The flight of fancy ended when I came. I finished my shower and toweled off, but I noticed my dick was still hard. My erection subsided as I finished my morning routine. The flier that I remembered was now on the refrigerator door, and the exhibition was next week. It wasn't circled, of course.
For the next few days, I only saw Paul as he came home. He'd go into his room and close the door while I studied or watched TV, and soon I'd go to my own room. Sunday night, though, neither of us had anything we needed to do. I was sitting in the recliner and watching a movie I'd rented, and he had just come back from his job. He recognized the scene as one of his favorites, so he sat on the couch and we watched the rest of it together. After I put the movie away, he went to his room. This time he didn't close the door. I gathered my nerve and said, "Knock, knock!" Paul looked up and I walked in. "I've been meaning to ask you something." I paused. "Are you gay?" When he hesitated, I said, "I mean, I don't have a problem with it. I'm just curious."
Paul said, "I'm trying to figure it out. Why do you ask?" I told him about the catalog, trying to make it clear that I wasn't snooping when I saw it. "Yeah, a friend of mine who is gay sent that to me. I told him I was trying to sort things out, and he thought if I saw some of this, it would make my mind up one way or another. Those pictures, though, ..." He made a face as if he were tasting bitter medicine.
"That was my reaction, too," I told him. "I didn't think that was biologically feasible! Anyway, I also noticed that you posted the museum schedule just as the Gay and Lesbian Exhibition is about to start."
"I did?" he said with amusement. "That's just a coincidence. I moved it to the refrigerator a couple weeks ago to remind myself about the Southeast Asia display. That was last week."
I laughed at myself. "Well, I sure feel silly about that!" We continued our discussion. The only person we both knew was Jeanie, a sophomore who lived upstairs, and he hadn't told her. Apart from her, that meant I didn't have to worry about letting it slip, because I was probably never going to be in a position to talk to anyone that would matter. We also learned that neither of us had been with a man or a woman before. He hadn't been with a woman because the interest hadn't been there, and I hadn't because I just had bad luck. The conversation led to other, completely unrelated topics before Paul told me that he had an early class.
The kitchen was between my bedroom and the bathroom. The next morning, as I headed for the shower, I saw the museum schedule, and it dawned on me that I was more interested in the gay art show than Paul was! Now that everything was out in the open, I no longer had the irrational need to lock the bathroom door. I started on the same soaping fantasy that I'd had the week before, but it changed. Instead of Paul appearing out of nowhere, now I imagined hearing him open the bathroom door and pulling the shower curtain open. He was naked, and his cock looked like the ones in the catalog pictures. He stepped behind me and picked up where the original fantasy had begun, but now, in my imagination, I felt that cock rubbing on the inner part of my lower thigh. I could also feel his stubble on my shoulder. When his cock got close to mine, I asked him to fuck me, but then I came for real, and the fantasy ended. I was forced to acknowledge that I kind of liked the idea.
That night I had one of those group exams where all the sections take the same test at once, and when I got back, Paul had already closed his door. The next night he was out with his friends, and the night after, I went out with mine. The next night, though, I was in my room writing cover letters when I heard him come home from his job. I finished the one I was working on and came out to see him. He was on the couch, relaxing in front of the television. "Hey, Troy," he said casually.
I'd lost too many opportunities with women because I hesitated when I was nervous, and I wasn't about to miss out on this one. "Hey, Paul. You said you're trying to figure out if you're gay. Well, I've been wondering the same thing about myself."
"How come you didn't tell me before?" he asked. "We've been good friends so far."
"I didn't really figure it out until we started talking about you last week."
"Okay. Murad, the friend who sent me the catalog, told me it happens that way for some guys. Well, it doesn't just 'happen'. You don't turn gay, but that's sometimes what makes you realize it."
"Right," I said. "So anyway, since I'm curious and you're curious, ..." I mustered my courage. "Why don't we try it together?" Paul didn't answer immediately. "You can suck—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know what you're saying, but it's a big step. I need to think about it," Paul said.
I realized how I must have sounded, so I said, "No rush. I'm up for it if you are."
I went back to the living room and Paul shouted from his room, "I'm free tomorrow." My pulse picked up. "Do you wanna see the art show?"
My pulse normal again, I turned back and said, "Sure!"
I didn't really expect the various pieces to be explicit, and for the most part it was just depictions of two men or two women kissing or hugging. The closest thing was a metal sculpture where one man was hugging another from behind, and the forms were so vague you couldn't tell whether they were supposed to be clothed and hugging or naked and fucking. We got back at 8:30, and the college basketball team had a game on the West Coast at nine, so Paul turned the TV on while I made some pop corn. I poured it into a bowl and went to the living room. Paul was sitting on the couch. I sat down next to him, and he moved away from the center.
