Christmas arrived. Stephan’s family, being Greek, had always exchanged presents on the traditional Orthodox Feast of St. Nicholas, December 6. This year, however, since Stavros would still be away at college, they decided to switch to Christmas Day. So on December 25, Mr. and Mrs. Demos first saw the portrait of their younger son. Stephan was so excited while they were opening it that he could barely contain himself. His parents were flabbergasted, thanking him over and over, while Stavros grinned, exclaiming again on what a wonderful likeness it was. Meanwhile, Matthew gave his self-portrait to his parents, who were overjoyed. They both hugged him before hanging it above the mantelpiece.
Two days later, Matthew went to Stephan’s house, where Mrs. Demos smothered him with hugs while he glowed with both embarrassment and pride. Stavros said that he wanted to talk with the two boys so they went to his room, which was decorated with posters of several popular musicians. He suggested that the two boys sit on his bed while he faced them in his desk chair. First he again congratulated Matthew on the portrait while Matthew beamed as he happily gazed at Stavros and absorbed once again what Stephan was going to look like in a few years. Then Stavros said, “I don’t mean to embarrass you, Matthew, but Stephan tells me that you two love each other.” The boys looked at each other, smiling. “Can you tell me what you mean by being in love?”
“Well,” Matthew began, “I think it means that we feel very comfortable together, that we enjoy each other’s company, and, even more, each other’s minds. I know that when Stephen comes into my room, my heart beats a little faster and I feel very happy. I know that I think about him constantly and wish we could be together all the time.”
Stavros nodded. “OK. You haven’t mentioned sex. I know Stephan is gay; are you too?”
“Yes,” replied the boy quietly.
“So, have you two been having sex?” Matthew blushed fiercely and nodded. “Boys, I know that, in a way, this is none of my business, but I believe I’m the only member of either family who knows about your situation, and I want to be sure you’re safe. Can you tell me what you’ve been doing?”
Stephan began to tell a little of how their sexual relationship had begun and how it had progressed, while Matthew sat tongue-tied and beet-red beside him. “And nobody has caught you doing this?” asked Stavros. They both shook their heads.
“Well,” Stavros went on, “it sounds as though you’ve been pretty careful, but you need to be sure to continue that. No googly eyes in the hallways of school, certainly no holding hands or kissing in public. You know, eventually your parents will figure this out and that could be an uncomfortable time for you. When that happens, I would be happy to speak to them for you because it’s obvious you do truly care for each other.”
“OK, thanks,” said Stephan, looking at Matthew. “There’s something we’ve been wondering about. Matthew talked with his therapist about it, but I’d like to get your take on it.”
Turning to Matthew, Stavros asked, “What’s it about?”
As Matthew was still tongue-tied, Stephan filled in. “We find that we want to have sex together all the time. As Matthew said, we’d probably be in bed all day and all night if we could, and we wondered if that was weird.”
Stavros smiled and asked, “What did your therapist say, Matthew?” Matthew hesitantly told him while Stavros nodded. “He sounds like a wise man, and I think I would agree with him. It’s an urge that you have to control or it will control you. In a way, that was Mr. Sinclair’s problem; he let the urge control him and that led to disaster. So do stay involved in other things and enjoy all parts of your life.”
“Stavros,” Stephan said, “Matthew’s therapist also told him that teenage love affairs are usually pretty short and that we shouldn’t get too invested in the relationship. He too encouraged us to find other outlets for enjoyment. We think he’s probably right about that, but we are invested in the relationship. If either one of us broke it off now, the other would be devastated. We don’t know what to do about that.”
Stavros pondered a moment before saying, “Well, I certainly can’t promise you that what he warned you about won’t happen. Your therapist is right about teenage romances. Probably what’s most common is for a person to go through several relationships before he finds the right one. Remember though, that there are two parts to your relationship. One has to do with sex and the other has to do with friendship. If, at some time, one or both of you finds somebody else to love, that doesn’t mean you couldn’t go on with your friendship. It would all depend on how you broke it off. You’ll need to be very careful of each other’s feelings no matter what happens. And remember that I’m available to talk with. I promise you, Matthew, that I won’t choose sides just because Stephan’s my brother.”
Although their concerns hadn’t really been allayed because, in fact, it would have been impossible to do so, they both left Stavros’ room feeling happy to have begun the conversation.
The following day, the boys continued to work on the nude portrait, Matthew explaining that he had decided what was wrong with Stephan’s pose and that he had to start over. Asking Stephan to assume his old pose, he said, “Now hold out your left hand as though you were urging somebody to join you…No, with your palm up.” He looked at the pose for a moment before saying, “Yes. That’s much sexier. Now it’s truly an invitation.” He sat by his easel and began once again the preliminary sketching. Soon, Stephan’s hand began to drop. Noticing it, Matthew said, “I’m sorry, Stephan. You can put your hand down until I get to that part.” Relieved, Stephan moved his hand back to his hip.
The boys remained in friendly silence for awhile before Matthew told Stephan about a problem he was having with a model plane. So when they finished for the day, Stephan looked at the problem and suggested how Matthew could fix it. They also agreed that on the following day they would continue Stephan’s art lessons.
The days and weeks passed quickly, with art lessons, model lessons, and frequent sex. Matthew finished the nude pastel and both boys were quite pleased with it. He covered it and put it with his other pictures so that nobody would wander in and find it.
On a Thursday in February the boys were in Matthew’s room finishing an art lesson when Stephan said, “There’s going to be a big sleepover for two nights this weekend at my friend George’s house, and despite the fact that all the others there will be in my grade I managed to get an invitation for you.”
“Well, it was nice of you to think of me, but please uninvite me, Stephan.”
Looking surprised, Stephan asked, “Why?”
“Stephan, you know I don’t like large groups of people, especially noisy ones. Sometimes I even have a hard time in a classroom. And you know what these guys will do. They’ll talk nonstop about girls, about what base they’ve gotten to, and about sports. I’m just not interested and I’d be uncomfortable there.”
“But you came to my birthday party, and you weren’t uncomfortable there, were you?”
“To be honest, yes I was. I only went because it was your party and you had said you wanted me to be there, but the only times I really enjoyed myself were the Hopalong Cassidy show and when you sat beside me and we talked together.”
An unfathomable expression which Matthew couldn’t read came over Stephan’s face. Finally Matthew asked, “What’s the matter? Are you angry with me?”
Stephan hesitated a moment before replying. “No, I’m not angry with you. I think I’m more disappointed and hurt.”
“Why are you hurt?”
“Because when I asked you at my party if you were having a good time, you said you were. Now I learn that wasn’t true. You were lying to me.”
“I suppose in a way I was, but what could I say? If I’d told you the truth it might have spoiled your party for you.”
Stephan nodded, thoughtfully. “Matthew, I think I need to think about this for awhile. I understand what you’re saying, but I’m just not sure how I feel about being lied to. After all, the next time I ask you something, will I really be able to believe you or will you just be trying to save my feelings again? How will I know when I can trust what you say? Let me think and I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” With that he turned to go.
“Wait, Stephan!” cried Matthew. But Stephan left without looking back.
What have I done? Matthew wondered, a tear rolling down his cheek. That night he had difficulty sleeping as he worried about Stephan and their friendship.
The next day, when Matthew saw Stephan in the school hallway, he tried to talk to him, but Stephan just gave him a little smile and walked by. At lunch, Stephan ate with his other friends at a table where there was no room for Matthew.
Over the weekend Matthew continued to worry. He almost called Stephan a couple of times, but he wasn’t sure what Stephan’s reaction would be, so he didn’t and the weekend dragged by.
By Monday, Matthew hoped that Stephan was past his hurt and might talk to him in school, but he got the same reaction: a nod, a little smile, but no words. There was no call then or, in fact, for the next few days. Again he thought about calling Stephan, but he didn’t know what to say. At night, he lay awake for a long time before crying himself to sleep.
Finally, on Friday night, he could stand it no longer. Taking a piece of paper and his pen, he wrote a letter to Stephan.
Dear Stephan,
I’m very sorry I hurt you and disappointed you. I really didn’t mean to ever tell you how I felt at your party, because I would never intentionally hurt your feelings, but you know how shy I am and how uncomfortable I am in groups of people. Even though I wanted to do what you asked me, I simply couldn’t face three days with a loud group of teenage boys. I’m sorry.
I would give anything to not be this way. I wish I could enjoy groups of kids like you do, but when I’m with them my reaction is so strong I almost feel like throwing up. It has nothing to do with the kids in the group; it’s me.
I’m sure you’re friends are wonderful and, in their way, caring. It wasn’t because I wanted to disappoint you or hurt your feelings that I refused your invitation, it was due to a flaw in me, my shyness, which I just don’t seem to be able to overcome.
Please, please, forgive me, Stephan. If we can’t love each other any more, can we at least be friends? I hate the thought of losing
your friendship. And please let me hear from you. The present situation is torture for me.
With all my love,
Matthew
Finishing the letter, he put it in an envelope, addressed it, and stamped it. Then he walked to the corner mailbox, hesitated, and put the letter through the slot, immediately wishing that he hadn’t and that he could pull it back. But what was done was done, so he returned to his room and half-heartedly tried to read.
Matthew knew the letter wouldn’t reach Stephan until Monday afternoon at the earliest. Nevertheless, as the boys passed in the hallway on Monday morning, he looked hopefully for signs of a change. There were none. Stephan passed Matthew with that same little enigmatic smile.
On Tuesday, Matthew didn’t see Stephan until nearly noon. As they passed, Stephan handed him a note and walked on. Tearing it open, Matthew read, “Come to my house after school today.” It did not say, “Love,” in fact there was no signature at all, but it was enough to give him a bit of a boost as he went through the afternoon.
On his way to Stephan’s house, Matthew felt as though he might be going to his execution. When he rang the doorbell, Stephan answered. They stood for a moment looking at each other, each wondering what the other was thinking. Then Stephan reached out, grabbed Matthew, and gave him a big hug. They went silently up to Stephan’s room, where he turned and said, “Matthew, I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk. I’ve done a lot of thinking, especially since I got your letter. I decided that, to be honest, I was trying to punish you a little for lying to me. I see now how childish that was and I know it was the last thing you needed.” Matthew nodded. “I did understand why you did what you did, and I love you for it. You were trying to protect my feelings, just as you said.” Again his friend nodded. “I’m also sorry you didn’t enjoy yourself at my party. I’ve decided that pressuring you to come was really selfish. I knew what I wanted but I never
thought about what you wanted.” Again, Matthew nodded. “You asked in your letter if we could be friends, even if we couldn’t love each other any more. To tell you the truth, if you can forgive me, I’m still in love with you. I still want to love you, but if you don’t feel the same way anymore, then, yes, we can still be friends.”
By that time, tears were flowing down both their faces. Matthew clutched Stephan in a ferocious embrace, kissed him, and said, “Of course I forgive you and of course I want to go on loving you as well as being friends. I was so unhappy last week I couldn’t do a thing. But you were right about something too. You asked how you could know that I won’t lie again. I can only promise you, Stephan, that I will never do that again, even if it means hurting your feelings.”
Returning the embrace and kissing him back, Stephan told how he had felt at the party and how he too had been unable to do much for the week. “In fact you were right when you described what the sleepover would be like — loud and totally focused on sports and sex. It was kind of boring!” He continued, “I think we forgot what Stavros told us, that we’d need to be very honest with each other no matter what happens. I wanted to call you, Matthew, but I thought you were unhappy with me, as you had a right to be. Your letter changed everything.” With that, he raised Matthew’s chin, kissing him gently over and over before finally running his tongue on the boy’s lips. Matthew opened his mouth, inviting him in. From there, they began to undress each other, and, holding hands, they move to the bed, where they satisfied a seemingly endless week’s worth of waiting and longing.
When they finished, Matthew said, “Let’s never put ourselves through that again. You know, my mother says you should never go to bed angry and I think she’s right. Of course we’ll disagree, maybe even angrily, but we need to try to resolve the disagreement before we part so that neither of us suffers like that again.” Stephan nodded, holding his friend once more in a strong embrace and kissing him passionately.
Having finished all the portraits for a while, Matthew began a new project in oils, first sketching out the scene he wanted to show and then carefully beginning to add the color. It took him over two weeks to complete the project to his satisfaction.
The next time Stephan came to his house, Matthew said that he wanted to show him something, uncovering the painting that was on the easel. It was a country scene, with hills in the background, a lake, and trees in the foreground. The entire picture seemed to be glowing, illuminated by a bright sun behind the observer. “That’s beautiful, Matthew, but I think I’ve seen something like it before. Did you do another one like this?”
Without a word, Matthew went to his stored pictures, selected one, and placed the two pictures side by side on his bed. Stephan stared from one to the other. On the left was the very dark painting that Matthew had done at the time of the trial. On the right was the new painting. “They’re both the same scene, aren’t they?” asked Stephan.
“Yes,” said his friend.” What do they tell you?”
“Well, I know that you painted the dark one when you were very unhappy, and I suppose the new one is showing how happy you are now. Does that mean you’re all better?”
“You’re right about what they show. I don’t know if I’m all better or ever will be, but yes, I’m certainly happier.” With that, Matthew moved the two paintings so the bed would be available for other activities, and once again, the boys enjoyed the closeness and sharing which had become such a meaningful part of their relationship.