Drummer Boys

Drummer Boys By Kevin Carson

This story is about my relationship with my friend and, well, more-than-a-jack-off buddy. Yes, it includes gay teen sex stuff. It's based on true experiences but some of the names and places have been changed for privacy. Hey, if this is illegal where you're at or if you're too young to be reading this, then you better not. Getting in trouble isn't cool. All rights reserved. No reproductions permitted without prior permission.

Thanks to everyone who has written to me. I really appreciate your comments/feedback and questions about this story. My email is: kc.drummerboy@yahoo.com.

Sincerely, Kevin.

Part 29.

Townsend and I eventually fell asleep, once again that night, in that hot, canvas dog tent, closer than two peas in a pod. What a night, huh? Thank God I finally settled down, after the wild-ass dream I had, not to mention the confession I made to Townsend. I guess I wasn't totally surprised he had already figured things out, about Mark and me, since I wondered about that all along. I was emotionally drained... which brings me to another point...

You probably find this hard to believe, but... nothing ever happened with Townsend and me. I mean, we never "did anything." Not that night, or any other... know what I'm saying? We were close, physically and emotionally, but nothing sexual ever happened. Remember that one time at his house, last winter, when he wanted me to stay all night, and he sort-of offered, you know... to do "whatever Mark can do"... I said "no" that night. I did the right thing by saying "no" to anything sexual, but I should have stayed with him, I guess, because I think he needed some sort of... connection, some sort of... closeness. But for whatever reason, it was a line we didn't cross. I didn't stay, and that was that.

A big part of the whole civil war re-enactment thing was to show us what life was like for the soldiers during the 1860's. There were no modern conveniences or the warmth and fuzziness of home. It was not about just doing drills and learning about arms and ammunition, muskets and cannonballs, tactics and battle plans. It was more than wearing the same smelly, dirty uniforms every day or having to eat bacon, beans and bread for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I have a whole new appreciation for all the things we have in our lives today.

We found out how important the drummers were to the officers and soldiers alike. And even though the drummer boys were too young to be real soldiers, we worked just as hard. Some of the enthusiasts were real hard-core military history buffs, others just do it for fun. And other than learning about the civil war in school, the only other stuff I knew about it was one time when Dad, Keith and I went to Gettysburg. Actually, that was just a side trip when we went on vacation to Washington, DC, and it was kind-of boring. (The hotel was fun, though!)

Anyway, as a reward for all the hard work and dedication we put forth during the week, we got to enjoy a little recreation on Friday... after early morning drill, or tactical exercises, we engaged in what was to be the last "battle" we'd fight. Our unit, the "Pennsylvania 4th," defeated the Confederate's "Alabama 17th"in our effort to defend the fictional town of "Stonewall." We were packing up camp, ready to move out, when we came under "attack" by the South. Both the General and Sgt. Dave were excellent military tacticians. With their quick, decisive thinking and strategic command, we formed-up, took the town and forced the Alabama 17th to surrender. Jeez, if only it were that simple these days in Iraq.

After all that excitement, which was sort-of a surprise to all of us, the commissary guys handed out our mid-day rations... a yummy battlefield mess of hardtack (a cross between a biscuit and bread) and bacon. We didn't have much time to eat before packing up... again... and heading out... again... Hopefully, after marching back to the cabin area, we'd have it easy the rest-of-the-day.

Recreational and leisure activities in military life in the 1860's amounted to whatever you could do whenever you could do it. Sutlers, or merchants, who often loosely followed advancing troops, sometimes sold whiskey. In larger towns and cities, prostitution was big business. That led to rampant venereal disease among both armies, North and South alike. And that was a big problem back then, because medical treatment wasn't what it is today. And I thought strep throat was a big deal!! As much as we were replicating actual civil war life, booze, whores and STD's weren't in the picture.

They kept us so busy, and so tired, all week, that there really wasn't time to think about sex. I wonder if that's how it is now, in modern times, in a real war... you know, no sex. Back home, in regular life, some type of sexual activity is a daily, sometimes two-or-three-times daily occurrence, right?! But I hadn't "done anything" since last Sunday morning, when I jerked off before I took my shower at that Comfort Inn we stayed at in Pennsylvania.

I was dying to know if Townsend "did it" there, too, or even if he had any "relief" during the week, but I didn't have the balls to ask him. How could I ask him something personal and sexual like that without him maybe thinking I was hitting on him? Too big of a risk, now that he knows what he knows. Maybe he wouldn't have taken it that way, but I wasn't going to chance it. All I know is, now that the week was winding down, I was hornier than hell, missing Mark more than ever, and that when I did bust a nut, look out! I rarely ever had wet dreams, so I was sure my balls were pretty full.

Friday afternoon, at the cabin, everyone was laughing and talking... generally having a good time, saying early "goodbyes." Sgt. Dave said we had the afternoon free and we'd be able to go swimming, but we'd have to use our funky military boxer shorts for swimming trunks. Oh well, it could have been worse! Thank God we had an extra pair. Even though we were also allowed to go hiking, too, or just generally goof around, it was so hot that I think everyone did go swimming.

Larry and the other cook were going to be making a big outdoor "victory" dinner... fire-fried chicken, roasted potatoes, cornbread and a bunch of other stuff. I think we were all pretty hungry, after having worked up quite a big appetite all week! And thank God we'd be able to take "real" showers after swimming. What a luxury to feel somewhat "clean" again. Friday night we'd be sleeping in the cabins, on the cots... part of our transition back to the future.

It was a good time, swimming. I enjoyed myself with everyone, all the new friends we'd made, but I was pretty quiet all afternoon, not saying much. I stayed pretty close to Townsend, who was quiet, too. He finally asked me how I was. "Hey Rim-shot... you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Look, I'm really sorry about last night, keeping you up and all." That was the first I'd mentioned it, making reference to my dream.

"Hey, no problem. You wanna talk about it?"

"Nah..." I said as we were getting out of the water, "That's OK, not right now..."

"Jeez, it's getting late, I can smell the food cooking already. Why don't we get cleaned up, you know, take a shower and get ready for the victory dinner..."

"Good idea..." We walked back to the cabin area to get our towels, "soap" and dry underwear.

By the way, it was perfectly fine to walk around in the military boxer shorts, even outside. No one cared, we're all guys, anyway. They weren't tight and therefore, not very revealing, darn it! Except when wet!!

Anyway, we still didn't talk much, not even at the showers. I did, however get an unexpected "treat." I got to see what I'd been waiting for, for a long time. My questions were answered, some of them anyway. Look, but don't touch, right?

Remember those "semi-private" shower stalls? Well... Townsend wasn't being very modest, taking off those wet boxers. I saw it all. And what a sight to see! I admit to glancing for more than a second, but I don't think he noticed that I looked... or cared, if he did. I was hard as a rock in record time. No way could I let Townsend see me like that. I turned my back in my stall, so that if he saw any of me it would only be my ass. It also didn't help matters any that I had a vivid, but brief, flashback from my dream of Sgt. Dave naked in the very shower Townsend was in. I choked on my dream-vision of that boycandy as well!

I had to think of something to get my mind off of Townsend and Sgt. Dave so my boner would go down. Townie was talking and all I could think about was his big cock. It was soft, too! And the damn thing hung straight down. Not too fat, but not a pencil-dick, either, not by any stretch of the imagination. I didn't realize what a beautiful thing it was, not even through those wet boxers. However, all along, Mark and I had our suspicions about that, too.

"Hey, tell me about Nag's Head," I yelled, over the rush of the water. "Did you guys ever go to Kitty Hawk...?"

I really didn't give a shit about all that, but at least it did the trick, Townsend yapping incessantly about vacationing at the Outer Banks. My hardness went away, but not without a steady stream of clear, slippery pre-goo oozing out.

After we dried off and got dressed, we went back to the cabin area and soon it was time to eat. Man, the food was really good, a real feast compared to what we ate at camp and on the battlefield. Really, it was a great experience. As it got dark, they built another big fire, and some of the guys were singing. But it wasn't a late night. Everyone was pretty whipped. At the cabin, once I hit the cot I was out like a light. No dreams, though. At least none that I could remember the next morning.

All in all, the week seemed to go by pretty fast. One day melting into the next, and the good part was it was finally Saturday. Almost time to leave. In that short week, Townsend and I became closer, obviously taking our friendship to a new, higher level... emotionally speaking. But we both made a lot of new friends... from all over the place. Most of them were older than us. Who knows if we'll ever see some of them again? A few of the guys exchanged addresses, and talked about getting together with their families. Some of them might not be back next year, or maybe Townsend or I won't be back, although I'd definitely like to do it again. Or, better still, if we do go next year, maybe Mark would be able to go too!

It was the last time we were required to wear our uniforms. At 11:00 closing ceremonies were held, where everyone gathered and the officers all made speeches. After the General's final remarks they fired a cannon salute and we were done! We were all given these really cool certificates of participation, along with antique-like photographs of ourselves in uniform. Can't wait to frame mine and hang it on the wall in the family room! I'm glad that Townsend and I (along with everyone else) were "honorably discharged." Townie and I headed back to change out of our civil war uniforms so we could turn them in. It was about 11:45 and Dad was supposed to be there at noon to pick us up.

This was the first chance I had to go through my duffle bag. God, my regular clothes! It's gonna seem funny wearing them again! Ahh... there's my phone! But the bad news is that I had forgotten to turn it off, and having left it on all week, the charge was completely gone. I searched through all my stuff, but couldn't find my charger. I must have left it at home. Oh, well.

That also reminded me of my dream... when I was looking for my phone in my duffle bag and it was already turned on for me... in the dream. Maybe that was some sort of clue that I had forgotten to power it off. "Townsend... I wanna tell you something..." I said, getting his attention. "Let's go outside..."

"What is it, Rim-shot?"

"You know, in that dream I had, I told you about Sgt. Dave being in it. What do you think that means?" I asked him, very seriously.

"I don't know, but I don't think it's anything bad that you dreamed about him... I mean, as long as you didn't drool over him! Not that I'd blame you if you did... he is kind-of cute."

"Shut the fuck up, you fuck!" I laughed, then thought about it... "But he was naked though, in the shower. I've been kind-of avoiding him all day because, what if there's some truth to it, you know, like what if he asked me that... for real... you know, about being... you know...?"

"Dude... don't be a stupid ass... it's silly to avoid him. I don't think he'd ever ask you personal, private stuff, not like that, at least, and I don't think he'd do it here... this week... just after having met you for the first time. That would be pretty bold. Even I wouldn't do that, so I wouldn't worry if I were you."

"You're right, I'm thinking about it too much. It's just a lot going on in my head. But I'm glad I'm honest with you about this now. I still have to talk to my Dad, and well..."

"Come on... let's go say goodbye to Sgt. Dave. It's the right thing to do. You'll be sorry if we don't."

Townsend was right. I was glad we did... say goodbye to Sgt. Dave. He was completely normal, and so I tried to be normal, too. I swear, that dream was so real, but... a dream is just a dream, I told myself. He gave us big friendly hugs and told us to keep in touch, that it would be awesome to have us back next year, and that if we ever needed him for anything... anything at all... we could call him. I'll tell you what... in just one week, Sergeant Major David Murray made a lasting impression on me. One that I'll never get out of my mind.

Dad was right on time. I think everyone was anxious to see their families and get going, so by now, handshakes and hugs were quick and brief. Townsend and I did exchange cell phone numbers and email addresses with Alex and T.R., the two guys from Michigan who were the other drummers. We liked them both a lot. It's funny, because even though Alex and T.R. were really nice guys... great new friends that we'd met... for a brief moment I wished the four drummers had been Townsend and Eric and Mark and me. But that's not how it was. I introduced Dad to a few of the guys and met a few others' families, but we wasted no time loading the car and leaving. After a week of great weather, it was suddenly cloudy, and I guess rain was in the forecast.

Dad asked if we were hungry. Townsend and I both said "no." But we stopped anyway, to get something to drink. That was on the way to the airport near Akron, Ohio, to drop off Townsend. We weren't going to wait there with him, at the terminal, since Dad wanted to get to the eastern edge of Pennsylvania by nightfall. Townsend was pretty sure his dad's company plane would be there by 3:00PM, and by now it was way past 1:30, so we didn't think he'd have to wait long.

As we pulled up to the curb at the departing flights area, I got out to help Townsend with his things. It was a rather small airport, and not very busy, so security wasn't a big deal. I dunno, an empty feeling of sadness and guilt came over me. It seemed as if I were leaving my other best friend, Townsend Miller, behind. Dropping him off at the airport that day was a moment I wish had never happened. Yet, I was glad that it happened, and it was a moment I wish I could hang on to forever. And in a way, I am.

"Hey..." I faked a weak smile.

"Dude... why the look...?" Townsend asked.

"Umm... I dunno... What a week, huh? I just don't want this to end."

"Yeah," Townsend smiled back, shaking his head.

I tried my damnedest to fight back a tear, but it was no use. "Just... what you know now... I'm glad I told you... I'm glad you understand... I'm glad you know..." I looked away, sniffling.

"Hey... Rim-shot... it's OK... no problem." We hugged and smacked each other on the back. I felt raindrops.

"Look... I know, you gotta go..." I said, as I got back in the car. "Umm... listen... have a good time on vacation... and be safe..." I was still choked up.

"I will... if the Lord's willing!!"

I didn't look back as we drove off, heading toward the interstate to trek our way back across Pennsylvania. Dad was quiet, and put on some 80's music, Crowded House, I think. Man, I wish I could have driven, but it was raining pretty hard by then. I lost my head in the music and tried to relax, eventually falling asleep to the rhythm of the wipers.

Eventually, we were off the big road and pulling into the parking lot of the Shawnee Inn, where Dad had made reservations. The rain had cleared and the sun was out. "Nice place," I thought to myself. And since I had a nice nap, I was ready to get cleaned up... a real shower, with real soap... and go out to dinner. But before I could do that, I wanted to call Mark.

"Dad, why don't you shower first... and can I borrow your phone to call Mark?"

"Sure."

So I called as soon as I heard the shower. Believe it or not I was nervous. It had been more than a week. "Dude! I miss you so much... how are you feeling?"

"Good as new, sweetie... well, almost!" He was happy I called. "I've been trying your phone. I've been calling since Thursday night, but I don't know... is it off or something? I can't get through."

"Oh, I don't know what the fuck happened... I left it on and we couldn't use it all week, I mean we weren't allowed... whatever... So, your throat's fine and you can talk and eat and whatever..."

Mark was laughing on the other end. "OK, buddyboy, I know what you're thinking! Busted!!"

"Stop teasing me, fucker! God, I can't wait till I'm back home and you can stay over!"

"So... how did it go? Was it fun? How was Townie? He behaved himself, didn't he???"

"It went fine, yeah it was fun, and Townsend was... Townsend. Really, Mark, it was great. I can't wait to tell you all about it." I briefly told him about Sgt. Dave, and the food, and the showers, the cabin, the tent... and, well... everything except the dream and the conversation with Townsend when I woke up. I'll tell him, but in person.

"OK, sweetie, I love ya... see you when you get home..."

"Yeah I gotta go, Dad's out of the shower. Love you too!"

Finally, I got to talk to my guy. The next best thing to having him hold me was to at least hear his voice, for real, not in a dream. I just had to tie up a few loose ends, and maybe I could get off this roller coaster and get my life back to normal.

That phone call to Mark put me in a great mood, but also made me miss him more, so I treated myself to a very intense jerk-off session in the shower. After a week of build-up, however, it didn't take me long. I started the shower, stripped and got down on the floor. I did it dry... no lotion or anything, and in no time blasted about a gallon all over the bathroom floor. The first few spurts were kind-of watery and clear, but the rest were nice and creamy, just the way Mark likes it!

Dad wondered what took me so long in there, but I didn't answer him. I'm sure he could figure it out. We went to dinner, then called it an early night.

I'm a pretty early riser, normally. I'm not one to sleep till noon then complain that it's still too early to get up. But last week at camp, getting up at 5AM everyday, that was a bit much, don't ya think??!! My sleep/awake schedule was so inside/out, I felt like I had jet lag or something. Even still, Dad and I got up bright and early Sunday to go canoeing on the Delaware River.

The canoe livery was pretty crowded, I thought, for 7:00 on a Sunday morning. A couple of cute guys and a couple of homely girls were working and got Dad and me set up with our canoe, paddles and life jackets. It takes about 3 hours, to get to the pick-up point downstream.

As we "set sail" so-to-speak, we'd hear the occasional bird-call or the whiz of a car speeding by on the road above the riverbank. Dad was facing downstream, his back to me. We weren't in the canoe five minutes and I started to sweat. It's not like it was that hot or anything. OK, it was a warm start to the day, but being that close to the water it wasn't that hot. So I'll tell you why I was sweating: nerves. That was it, in one simple word. Nerves.

We were paddling like hell, bit it seemed like we weren't moving very fast. Maybe it was just me. The water was smooth as glass and the hills on either side seemed so high up, the trees were such a dark green. And the river seemed really wide... and we were so small. Just Dad and me, alone in the middle of that vast, wide river. And that's when I said it...

"Dad. It's Mark. It's Mark, Dad, that's who I'm in love with. It's Mark. And I'm gay."

I knew we were moving though, faster than it seemed. The rippling water rushing over rocks told me so, and it was now... somehow soothing to me. Dad half-turned, a slight hesitation as he nodded his head. I admit to sweating profusely at this point, but I didn't cry. It is what it is...

Dad turned completely around to face me. He stopped paddling, but I kept on. He looked straight at me and the first thing he did was remind me that I'm his son and he loves me very much.

"Kevin, that took a lot of courage to tell me that. This is the rest of the conversation we started a while ago, the night before you left, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm glad you're ready to talk about it more. You know... as I told you before... my only concern for you is you are so young, and to have such strong feelings toward another person at this age... it can be a lot to handle..."

"Dad, I hope you're not embarrassed. You're not ashamed of me, are you?"

"What?? I'm not ashamed of one damn thing... that goes for you and your brother. I'm sure that over the years you've both done a thing or two I haven't exactly been proud of, a little mischief here and there, but... ashamed? No way!"

"Do you mean, like when I called Mr. Hartman a fucking idiot??"

"Well... yeah, that's up there." Dad said as we both chuckled.

"But seriously, Dad, Mark feels the same way, about me. I just want you to know, that, too."

"Believe me, it's not like there's a master plan for your lives, at least not one that I've made. You make your plans... I'm just here to help you any way I can."

"And Dad, I also want you to know, that it's not just the..."

"Sex?" Dad interrupted. "That's what you were going to say, isn't it? You know, Kevin, being sexually active, in various ways, at your age is quite normal... it's just that in some situations, if you're not ready for certain things, there can be an emotional cross to bear... now... or, possibly later..."

Dad's always direct... sometimes just shy of being blunt, but I was used to it, I think. He was trying to make it easy to talk to him about all this, but I was still nervous as hell. Maybe it had something to do with the calm and quietness of being on the river, the two of us bound to the confines of the canoe by Mother Nature... the water, the sky, the mountains...

In spite of Dad's easiness and understanding, which I had hoped for and expected, I was a bit embarrassed myself. Now he knows I'm having sex, and who I'm having it with. And I imagine he has a damn good idea of what we do. Oh God!!!!

One thing Dad always did with Keith and me is talk openly about the risks and dangers of being sexually active: the obvious warnings about pregnancy and diseases. In a split second I decided I've gone this far with telling him everything, I owed it to him and me to be as candid as he is.

"We're careful, Dad," I said, "We use... you know... protection."

He looked at me, not with curiosity, disapproval or disappointment... but with a look of disbelief that he was having such a grown up conversation with his youngest son. "Well I guess I know you listen to me," Dad said with a smile. "I hope your brother does."

"He's pretty responsible, Dad."

"Oh, so... you and he talk...?"

"Well, yeah, Dad. What did you think?"

"Does he... know? Have you confided in him... about what you've told me?" Dad wondered.

I shook my head "yes." Actually, Dad, he sorta found out by accident..."

"Oh, Jesus... did he walk in on you at a private moment...?"

"No... no no no... it was at school, and see, this girl, you know Dad, Emily DeMarco, well she's been giving me shit for months now, even after that other thing, and Keith sorta walked up to us when we were arguing in the hall. It was bad."

"What?? When was this? Does Mr. Hartman know it? I thought it was all over with with her. Do you mean she's still a pain in the ass?"

"Yeah, sorta... something like that. I've been trying to ignore her, but every few weeks she sneaks up and says annoying things to me, and the other day it was about Mark and me and I had enough. I exploded and told her off, and that's when Keith heard it, and I had some explaining to do..."

"And what was your brother's reaction?"

Jesus, with Dad's questioning I felt like I was getting backed into a corner. "Well, no one else was around, mind you, and Keith put Emily in her place. Then he and I left and he said he wasn't happy finding out about Mark and me like that, but he didn't hate me either."

"And what else?"

"Well... he said that I needed to talk to you about all of this. Not just the shit with Emily, but about Mark and me."

"He's right. I'm proud of you both. It's good that he didn't judge you too harshly. He gave you good advice, and I'm glad you followed it. I'm sure it wasn't easy..."

"Well I tried to talk to you, you know, the other night, before we left, but you're right, it's not the easiest thing to do..."

"I knew something was up with you, Kevin. I know you like a book. You know, you could have come to me sooner. How long has this relationship been going on?"

"Well, Dad... for months. We started out as friends and it just led to something more. But Dad, it's only Mark... it's not some kinky thing or anything..."

"As much as I understand that, that things just "happen," I also understand that the sexual desires for a guy your age can be overwhelming. And I hope there's not some underlying emotional issue going on. Things are OK with us, aren't they, son?"

Now it seemed like Dad was looking to himself for someone to "blame" for my being gay. It was my turn to set the record straight. "Dad... I'm completely happy with this whole thing. You're right, it's a tough world out there, the little bit of it I see from my sheltered life. I admit, I am a little worried what it'll be like when people find out. Not everyone's as accepting as you. But you and Keith matter first, and believe me, as much as I've been struggling with this, you've made it a lot better than it could have been. As far as the other stuff... well, yeah, I guess I know the "normal" part for guys, but that's not why I love Mark. And Dad, there's nothing wrong at home... with you or Keith. It's all good. The three of us, we're cool. Honest. I mean it."

Dad gave me somewhat of a sad look. "You're so... grown up."

We talked some more, really like two friends rather than father and son. The rest of our canoeing on the Delaware was fun, thrilling almost, as we went over a few small rapids and paddled like hell to avoid hitting a few big rocks. Certainly nothing dangerous. Not long after we went under the I-80 bridge, we saw the livery over to our left, on the New Jersey side. We got out, the guides took care of the canoe and paddles, and we walked toward the shuttle van to take us back to Shawnee, on the Pennsylvania side.

I kept thinking about mine and Dad's conversation: the first part last Friday, and now this one today. And what he said... I kept replaying in my mind... "You're so... grown up... you're so... grown up."

"Thanks, Dad." I gave him a big hug and didn't want to let go. I shut my eyes and in my mind I saw Townsend standing on the curb at the airport... and I saw Dad, as he looked at me in the canoe. And I thought to myself, really, I'm not that grown up. But maybe I will be, eventually... if the Lord's willing...

(To be continued...)