Joshua opens up

Joshua Erkhart had doubt in his heart. For someone who had grown up with absolute truths, that was an existential dread. It ate him alive, distracted him from the practice of his faith.

“The Lord is love,” the pastor had told him in private, “you do not **** Him. He finds you. Just because he works… slowly, doesn’t mean he doesn’t work.”

“But pastor,” he’d said, “I’ve made love to so many girls, none of them made me feel anything. I’m afraid I’m just dead inside.”

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff,” the pastor gestured at Miss Anders, who had the pastor’s rod deep in her throat, “they comfort me.”

“So, you’re saying: keep making love.”

“Make it, and it will find you.”

It hadn’t helped. Late at night, while praying in his bed, he tried to let his mind wander. Rod in hand, devotedly masturbating, he hoped his fantasy would show him one of the girls he’d done it with in church. None would appear, all he saw was his Lord, Jesus.

The girl on him now, Anneke, was beautiful. She’d made quite an effort, red hair in thick braids over her shoulders, red lipstick and green blouse that made her eyes pop like emeralds. He inspected her freckles as she rode him. She was like a little angel, with her almost luminescent skin, drops of sweat glistening on her brow. She’d practiced, clearly, riding him like a movie star, arching her back to push her wonderful chest in his face.

It hadn’t done anything for him. He fucked her, even grunted in her ear, made it seem real, but still an angry snake of guilt had wormed around in his stomach.

Why?

This creature was beautiful, sexy, perfect in every way.

Maybe that was the problem.

Even when she came she was beautiful, like she’d practiced to make it as ethereal as possible. Was she crying? She was. Shit.

“That was amazing,” she whispered, draped around his neck. “Bless you, Joshua.”

“Bless you,” he responded.

#

“What’s up, dude?” Brandon said. “You’re unusually moody.”

“It’s—” Joshua started, “it’s nothing.”

“Listen, bro. If there’s something going on, you gotta tell me man.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not.” Brandon grabbed his hand and pulled him to his knees. His other team now noticed too.

“What’s up, Josh?” Henry said, “not feeling up to it today? Girlfriend being a bitch?”

“Dude,” Brandon said. “You know he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Really? He fucks more girls weekly than I do in a month.”

“That’s cause he’s religious, you idiot. It’s called prayer.”

“Guys,” Joshua started, “I need to tell you something.”

He knew they knew he was serious. Rough ‘n tumble as they were—they were a rugby team after all—each one of them was a softie at heart. He knew they cared about him. He just wasn’t sure they still would after what he was about to tell them.

They were standing around him now, waiting for whatever he was about to reveal.

“Guys, I uh— I think I like men.”

It was quiet, he could hear only the sound of the showers.

“So what’s the thing you need to tell us?” Henry started. “We all like men, look at us, showering together. You were just sucking Brandon’s dick man.”

“No, I mean,” Joshua started. “I think I can’t fall in love with girls.”

Now all of them understood.

“So, you’re gay.” Henry shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”

“He can’t have kids man,” Brandon sighed.

“Oh, shit. Of course.”

“It’s just—My faith is all about finding love and getting kids. My parents are gonna be so fucking disappointed.”

“No they’re not,” Brandon said.

“And if they are,” Henry added, “fuck em. You’ll always have us.”

Before he knew it, the team was around him, holding him in a tight group hug. He was glad they were all wet, so they couldn’t see his not-so-manly tears.

“So, what do you guys think,” Henry said. “How about we show our gay friend how much we appreciate him?”

Cheers echoed through the showers.