Page 44 of The Protective Gryphen

He nodded.

“The good thing was, I learned how to use a bow and arrow, and I was good at it. The bad thing was the camp was to deprogram me. To make me un-gay.”

That hurt Gryphen’s heart.

He didn’t have to live that since no one cared if he fucked a woman, a man, or a fence post, but he hated that Ian had to feel like he was sinning when he was just learning how to grow up.

“So, from that moment on, everyone believed it worked. I dated girls, I pretended it wasn’t real, and thus began my hiding deep in the closet. I got better at archery, I got scholarships, was invited to the Olympics, but chose the federal government instead.”

“Why?” Gryphen asked.

“Because I am more feminine than masculine. My mother called it fancy. My tendencies to fold my socks, be pristine, and not like to get dirty…I didn’t want to be on TV and have everyone know my secret. I didn’t want everyone to watch me and think, he’s gay.”

“So you hid it under a tie and called it a career?”

He nodded.

A guy had to do what a guy had to do.

“I tested into the Secret Service, and I never let my secret out. No one knew I was gay, until I had an encounter with a fellow Secret Service agent, which was a drunken mistake. Then, word got out, and I moved up the ladder, despite not having the respect of the people I supervised.”

He said nothing.

Gryphen understood what that was like. If other soldiers found out you were gay, they tormented you to death—if you were lucky.

If you weren’t, they forced themselves on you to ridicule you. It was like what happened to Raphael.

He’d avoided that, but he’d been careful.

“I’m not hyper masculine like you. People look at you, Gryphen, and think, he’s a manly man. They look at me and I’m preppy, or not quite as masculine. So, I took a career that would give me street cred, if you will. I risked my life for the President of the United States because a gay man wouldn’t dare do something like that.”

He kissed a sheep on the head between its ears as he tried to soothe away his own past.

Ian glanced over.

“I dated men like me because men like you beat the shit out of men like me.”

He stopped that.

“Uh, for the record, I’d beat the shit out of anyone who talked smack about you, Ian, and there are a lot of gay men in the military that look like me. What do you think we do when we’re overseas and bored? We have sex with each other. That’s why ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ was such a big deal. Large showers weren’t just for showering, and once you found someone safe, you buddied up to get through it.”

He let him talk.

“Look at Raphael. Look at Saint. In fact, Michael is gay too. All those guys threatening men who aren’t as big and bulky are too afraid that they like some ass too.”

He laughed.

“I’ll keep that in mind. It just stings that it was Christmas, and nothing was heard from my mother. It was never the same after that moment, and she knew the camp didn’t work. You can only fake it for so long. When I moved to DC, she asked me if I was going to marry and have babies, and I told her no. She asked if it was because I was a fag.”

That sat there.

“I told her yes because I couldn’t deal with her anymore. So I built that wall, and I kept it up, so I didn’t get hurt. There are times I feel alone, and there are times I can’t let anyone in because I can’t be hurt anymore. Then, along came Will. He destroyed me all over again.”

Gryphen touched his cheek.

They were rosy from the chill in the air.

“Then came you,” he admitted. “And I’ve finally let that wall down. So I understand when you say if you get hurt, you’re done. Me too, Gryph. Me too.”

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