A gay sex stories: The Redemption of Benjamin
All characters are over 18. YADAYADA, you know the drill, thanks for reading my 30th story, yay!
Benji and I studied Computer Engineering at the UFRJ (Federal University of Rio de Janeiro), and on every day of class, he always found reasons to be a disgusting bigot. I hated his guts. My hate was even more personal because I almost became his friend at first, before he showed his true colors. He seemed a chill guy, very beautiful, impressive height, olive skin, tanned. When he smiled, all his beauty seemed to grow tenfold. As a gay dude who barely turned eighteen and had almost no experience, he was the most dangerous temptation to be around.
When the first ‘fag’ came out of his mouth, we parted ways. Since then, there has been some animosity between us in the form of heated arguments in class. I hadn’t come out of the closet yet, so it was always difficult to come in defense of ‘homos’.
“You’re the kind of guy who picks and chooses your science,” I spat at him once after he had just been transphobic. “Gender dysphoria is a proven fact.”
“A few dubious articles from people who call themselves scientists do not prove anything.” A lot of nods from other people in class, which disheartened me.
“Hugo is correct,” the professor came to my defense. “Gender dysphoria is a known scientifically proven dysphoria, it has been studied by hundreds of psychiatrists and neurologists.”
I looked triumphant at all the bigots, a smile on my face.
Benji and his circle ignored me. He sat with his girlfriend and his two friends. I ignored his existence as well, expecting a whole day of glorious catharsis from being validated by the professor and imagining how Benji must have been furious that the Calculus professor wasn’t on his upper-class assface’s side. Unfortunately, the calculus teacher wasn’t on my side either, because at the end of that class he decided that Benji and I should be a duo for a presentation. I made the mistake of complaining.
“Are you a toddler who can’t put aside your childish fights?” he asked. I thought he was being unfair, but he didn’t know I was gay and my dislike of Benji went to my very core because he was a homophobic. “Benjamin, do you have a problem?”
“No sir. I’m good,” replied the bigot. I turned to him, and the smirk churned my insides with rage.
The class was dismissed. I kept quiet and left with a few friends to the library. I was complaining all the way about the unfairness of what had just happened.
Suddenly, someone was calling my name. It was Benji. He came up to me and asked if we could talk about the project. Stunned, I nodded. I didn’t expect him to approach me at all, especially in a civilized manner as if we had no bad feelings.
“You seemed surprised that the professor placed us together,” he said.
“You weren’t?”
“Course not, we are the best in class. Let’s put aside our disagreements, alright? If you’re going to the library, can I join? We could start planning right now.”
I nodded again, still confused. Did he just admit I was one of the best in class?
In the library, we found some books, and began reading in silence. As we discussed mathematical theories and subjects, I was forced to recall that when he wasn’t spewing bigotry through those lips, he sounded really bright.
We met every day for two weeks, sometimes in the library, or by the shade of a tree upon the campus’ green grass, occasionally even at each other’s houses; always just the two of us, talking about our college project, until, suddenly, we were laughing together. We laughed a lot during those days. We were growing…closer again, like our friendship had just been sleeping through the winter and now it was spring, and the sunlight was his smile.
Suddenly, he was no longer the bigot in my class, but a thoughtful and interesting classmate who grew up in a problematic environment. I met his dad, and there I laid all the blame.
As the weeks went by, Benji began sitting next to me in class, much to everyone’s surprise. He was still an idiot, but a much easier idiot to deal with. He made homophobic comments that made me uncomfortable, but now I was unable to speak up. I felt conflicted, like a betrayer. Slowly, he invaded me, invaded my thoughts and my values. His girlfriend must have unconsciously noticed something about me, as she never liked me, but Benji put her aside for me.
I was even invited to go to the beach with his buddies. He was a regular beach-goer, as one could obviously tell by his looks. Sun and Sundays were essential in his life. I accepted, though a little hesitant because I knew I would have to endure a lot of Benji in speedo playing Foot-volley. He wanted to pair up with me, because according to him we were “inseparable”. I must have blushed in front of everyone. His other buddies pretended to like me and I them, but they expressed their dislike through their less than friendly game tactics.
One of the most infuriating things about Benji was his disregard for other people’s comfortableness. Well, my comfortableness. He liked sex, to talk about sex, and to show off his sexiness whenever he could. This included not being one iota ashamed of his body. When he saw a hot girl, he would stare and, if one looked, one would see his speedos get very tight with the sudden growth in volume…
On one of those occasions, I couldn’t help but stare. He left me no choice, standing right in front of me, looking sideways at a chick with a big ass, hands on his hips. There were just the two of us that day, no annoying buddies or girlfriend. He was wearing a black speedo. The hair around his crotch was wet, some sand sticking on. I watched him touch his balls, position his dick into a better position. My heart pounded. I even got a little dizzy, as my own body reacted, blood rushing down.
Fuck, he was hot.
When he offered to go into the water, I agreed right away, at least in there I would be able to hide better. Things cooled off and we began to laugh again, talking about everything. I mentioned his ex, Eloíse. She had been the girlfriend when I began to befriend him the last time, but now it was Gabrielle. He shrugged the subject off. I sensed he didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t press him.
In the shallows, we sat almost submerged. Our knees were touching. He didn’t mind so neither did I.
“I missed this, dude,” he let out. My whole body trembled and warmed as I realized what he was talking about before, those early days when our friendship was just beginning, before I removed myself from his life.
“Yeah, man. Me too.”
That moment is still special to me. Too bad it had to be followed by an awful one.
We went back to the beach, and as we were about to leave, a boy passed us, probably our age, skinny and dark. He was very feminine. I thought he was very cute and I smiled at him, who smiled back. But Benji spat on him. The boy walked away quickly, horror in his face, but a lot of fear too.
“You see that? He smiled at you. Fucking disgusting.” Benji was a little flustered, almost as if he was ashamed too. But my shame was probably bigger, it went right into my very core, tearing apart a bit of my self-esteem cause I realized how much of a coward I was that I didn’t stand up to such bigotry. No, I was an accomplice.