History: Rob

 My college journal ended on that second trip to Stratford with Theo.  I did like reading my thoughts recorded right at the moment things were happening.  It was also good to see my notes about gay venues that no longer exist.  And occasionally, I found that my memory of events was not quite as it happened…

Fall, 1977.  It’s a new school year—and an important one.  Theo and I were rooming together.  I had been in two newer dorms on campus for the first two years.  For year three, I moved to an older one that was co-ed by floor and for people who had a high grade point average.  The drama department pulled strings so Theo could join me there as a freshman.

The newer dorms had quads—four guys in two rooms, connected by a bathroom.  At the honors dorm, Theo and I had separate bedrooms with a joint study area and the bathroom was down the hall.  The showers were communal—and I learned to really appreciate the eye candy.

Theo and I were now friends.  Good friends.  I no longer mooned over him (or not much—and even less after our first weeks together.)  It was great to live with a man who shared my passion for theatre and who was gay.  My brother had thoughtfully given me all the hardcore magazines (the ones I had found when he returned from college) to keep me aroused when I needed a quick wank.

I was cast in a new three person musical that fall.  It was a big deal for me—the largest role the school had entrusted me with so far.  The young woman was from my high school and we loved working together.  The other man was slightly older than the two of us.  Rob was originally from England.  He was funny and gregarious—and everybody on campus loved him.  He hosted a classical music program on the university radio station with that very posh English accent that he could still turn on whenever he wanted.  Rob was funny and knew how to get a laugh on stage.  We were great scene partners.

We walked to the neighborhood bar after rehearsals.  Normally, I would have bowed out, but this was such a small group, I found I could actually have a good time there—despite being raised by two teetotalers.  I could nurse my one scotch forever. 

Rob kissed everyone goodbye.  And I mean everyone, straight, gay bi, young, old.  It was his schtick.  He loved the consternation of the set construction guy as a man kissed him on the lips for the first time.  My kiss was occasionally at the bar when I left earlier than the others or sometimes at the door of my dorm if Rob and I left the bar at the same times.  It never felt sexual—it was just him.  I liked the guy. 

The show we were working on had been an Off-Broadway show and we were the first production anywhere else after it closed.  The authors came to see it when it opened in November—and loved how we’d approached the material.  And the show, after it’s run, never quite closed.  Pieces of that production were dragged out for any and every University occasion that needed entertainment: a talent show, entertainment at an alumni banquet, a professor’s retirement, on and on.

After one performance in March of the next year, Rob, who had a car, dropped me off in front of my dorm.  I got out.  He got out.  He lightly kissed me goodnight and drove off.  I stood there.  I don’t know what changed.  But I didn’t go inside for the longest time. When I did, I couldn’t sleep.  The next night, on the pretext of needing help with some music, I went to his apartment.  And stayed…

That night we talked like we had never talked before.  We both loved musical theatre and he introduced me to Gilbert and Sullivan.  I taught him Cole Porter.  We both worshiped Stephen Sondhiem. 

The conversation drifted to the personal.  I shared my coming out to my brother.  He had lost his virginity to an American girl who was at his college in England.  He came to America to marry her.  It had not lasted long.  He was currently fucking a divorcee who he’d met doing some community theatre in a nearby town.  But he loved men—and being 3662 miles from his family had helped him come out.  

We fell into bed together.  He was an oral guy and knew how to satisfy my big dick, which he couldn’t stop talking about.  I had met my match in cock sucking.  He knew the same tricks I’d instinctively picked up.  And then he flipped me over and ate my ass.  I don’t think anyone else had ever done it.  If Mike rimmed me during the times he fucked me, it was just for a moment to get my hole wet, not the luxurious tonguing Rob gave me.  Then he rolled me back over and we sixty-nined.  Rob took no time to shoot.  Even then, it took me ages.

I slept over.  We had morning sex—and I made it home to shower and get to class.  I spent every night now in Rob’s bed.  We tried everything.  He hated to get fucked for a gay couple had raped him one night when he went home with them.  But he was game to try it with me.  And hated it—especially with my size.  But now we knew.  We tried it the other way around.  It was no better for me.  I knew I wasn’t a bottom.  And our mouths were everything we needed…

Theo was nonplussed.  I think he was sure that he’d have a boyfriend before I did.  But he was happy for me.  Mostly.  And he loved Rob like everyone else in the theatre department.

Easter arrived and I was expected home on the Saturday before.  I took Rob.  My mother asked if she should make up the hide-a-bed sofa.  I told her there was a double bed in my room and he was happy to bunk with me.  Fine.  That was it.  We never had any other kind of coming out talk.  He was just there—and of course he charmed them.  Including my brother.  It was great fun to have silent sex in the family bed that night.

At school, we were both in a production of Ceasar and Cleopatra that spring.  That kept us working together.  I slept at his house almost every night.  Occasionally, if he was really hitting the scotch, I stayed at the dorm.  We talked a lot.  About us.  Were we a couple?  Just friends?  (I don’t think in 1978 we were using fuckbuddies…)  We had no idea.  It was new to both of us. 

With the end of the semester—there was a guaranteed break.  We both had our first professional theatre gigs.  Rob’s was in northern Michigan and I was flying down to Texas.  I finally said I hoped our relationship would continue next year.  He agreed, but wisely said we should let the summer happen and see how things went.  We were smart enough (and knew each other well enough at this point) that we agreed we could and should have sex with others when we needed it, as we were 1200 miles apart.

My emotions were all over the place as I packed up the dorm.  One moment, I didn’t want to leave Rob; the next, I couldn’t wait to start my first paying theatre job. I wanted to live with him for my senior year, but I couldn’t read how Rob felt about it.

I was waiting on the front steps of the dorm for my dad to arrive and take me home.  Rob pulled up, packed for his adventure up north.  We said goodbye and wished each other luck.  The tears didn’t come until his car disappeared from sight...