“Krumme Lanke. In the summer, queer life is centered around a few small lakes outside the city. But I don’t know if you need a swimming suit. We Germans are not nearly as prudish about the body as Americans. We believe the body is natural. Not to be covered up and hidden. Clothing is entirely optional.” He’s trying to troll me again. Thinking I’ll cling to some sense of modesty on my side of the fence because he has to position himself as this free-spirited artist. I’m the close-minded country boy. He wants to have a pissing contest with me. Bring it on, Otto. That’s one contest I’ve been winning since my first year on the soccer team in the locker room. Haven’t met a guy who can beat me yet.
Brady looks from me to Otto and finally he says, “Let me grab our suits and a towel or something.”
“Brady, get yours if you want, but I don’t need a swimsuit.” I stare Otto down.
Brady looks surprised, and maybe even entertained. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’m bringing mine.”
“I’m sure,” I say, giving a bro nod to Otto, letting him know I’m up for any challenge he wants to throw my way. Brady grabs a tote, the media kit, a few towels and his swimsuit and then we head down to squeeze back into Otto’s car.
Less than an hour later we are on the sandy shore of a quiet cove atKrumme Lanke.Tall linden trees create a tapestry of filtered sunlight on the ground where we set up our towels and some cheese, crackers and pieces of cake the hotel provided. It feels like a private spot but in the distance I can hear people laughing, and further out a traditional folk band. The water is dark and reminds me of the blueberry jelly at a diner in Alabama. I feel a pang of homesickness remembering being with my dad and sisters, cutting up the waffles for the girls when they were little and my dad being so proud when people would come over to tell him how pretty they were. I’ve been emailing my dad and sisters when I can but I’m not always sure what to say to them. We’re close, but it’s hard to explain the enormity of the feeling of being abroad. It’s changing me in ways I don’t even know yet.
Brady is in constant contact with his niece and he’s never at a loss for words with her. He quizzes her on things like colors and animal sounds and can make her laugh so hard she squeals. I’ve overheard Brady’s sweet falsetto singing “Stop! In the Name of Love” so many times I caught myself performing it in the shower the other day.
“I think we should have a quick swim, to refresh,” Otto announces. I guess he’s in charge now. Brady gets his swimsuit and changes behind a tree. I try not to make it too obvious and crane my neck to get a glimpse of that cute little hairless ass since I might not see it again. Otto gets a pair of red trunks from his bag.
“I thought you said the Germans are free and open with their bodies.” I raise one eyebrow.
“I did. We are. But I don’t like the feeling of sand on my bottom. I always wear a suit.” Otto turns around and pulls off his pants before jumping into his swimming gear.
They finish changing and Otto yells something in German that sounds like a start to a race. Within a few seconds they are both a few yards out about knee-deep splashing in the water. After taking in how good Brady looks with the water reflecting little diamonds across his smooth, even chest I look over at the competition and then remind myself that this is not a competition. Otto has a very natural, easy body with less hair than I have. It’s probably enough to satisfy Brady, who used to tell me how much he enjoyed running his hand over the thick hair on my chest.
“Come on,” Otto yells from the water. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Goading me into coming out there naked. Thinking I’ll chicken out and let him frolic in the water with Brady while I sit on the shoreline. I scan the area. The cove is definitely secluded, but not totally private. Across the lake is the main shore where people are swimming and sunbathing. It’s far enough away to be blurry even with excellent vision.
My attention moves back to Otto and Brady. Otto whispers something to Brady that makes him laugh and then Brady playfully splashes him. Oh, hell, no. I am not going to stand on the shoreline and watch Otto come after Brady.
I pull my shirt off over my head. Not a big deal, although to be perfectly honest I’m not that comfortable shirtless in public. I know I have a good body. I know people look at me in the gym, but I don’t like it. I know my abs and pecs are only part of the story.
I know my dick is huge. Why not show Brady I’m this new rule breaker he wants me to be? If that is one of the obstacles to us being closer, maybe I can crush it and the others will eventually fall. If I’ve changed at all since college, this should not be that big a deal for me. I look from side to side, glad I’m far enough in the shade to hide how red my face must be.
“It’s Germany. No one cares. But if you have too many hangups I can make sure Brady is okay in the water.”
“I can do that,” I shout back.
“Brady can do that,” Brady says. “I was on the swim team in high school. Why does everyone always forget that?”
Screw Otto. Why do I feel I have to prove myself in front of Brady when that guy is around? Fine. I unbuckle my jeans and I see that catches Brady’s eye. He’s seen me naked a million times but he knows I am not someone very comfortable with any kind of attention on my body or PDA. He always hated that. It has to do with some fucked up sense of Southern modesty that I guess I’m having problems overcoming.
I hesitate to push my pants down, and Brady must notice. He bites his lip. “It’s okay, Hayes. You don’t have to do it.”
Hearing him give me an out is very sweet. He cares about me, and I want to show him that I care about him. I want to show him that I’ve changed. I’m not the rigid rule follower who wouldn’t hold his hand at a frat party or even at a meeting of the Pride Collective on campus when we first started dating. This is the new Hayes. The new Hayes is bold, non-conformist, ready to throw caution and, apparently, his underwear to the wind. I grab the waist of my pants and in one motion push them down to my ankles. I run my hand under my balls to give my dick a quick fluff although I know it doesn’t need it. Brady and Otto stop what they are doing and both freeze, staring right at me. Usually, this kind of attention in a place like this would make me run under a rock but in this moment, I think I might like it.
I stretch my arms over my head so my lats flex and then pull one hand to the side, exposing my hairy armpits and the sinew of my arms. Then I cross them in front since I know that will make my chest pop. I look behind me to make sure no wandering hikers have stumbled on to our little cove.
I step out of my pants feeling a good deal more confident than when I started. I decide to take it a step further. I turn around and let my ass be the star of the show. The fact is when you have a great dick people often forget to acknowledge that you have a great ass. I turn back to see both of them in the water staring at me. I bend over to touch the ground so my ass will push out a bit. I can feel the warm sunlight on it and hope the rays are showing off how hairy it is since I know Brady likes that.
I hear someone clapping. It must be Brady, so I swish my ass from side to side. I even do a little twerk and try to bounce my glutes in a move I’ve never tried. Then the clapping gets louder. It’s not just Brady clapping, but maybe Otto too? I listen and realize it’s not two people clapping. That must be… I snap up so quickly I worry about herniating my back. I turn around. From out of nowhere a group of a dozen female senior citizen kayakers has floated just behind where Brady and Otto are watching the entire show.
I’ve tossed my clothes too far away to grab them so I do the only thing I can think of to hide myself. I jump into the freezing lake. I have to swim right past the collection of women who are still applauding and speaking in German before they paddle off.
“I think these women enjoyed the show you put on very much,” Otto says with a smirk. I have my hands under my arms since the water is so cold and I’m still shell shocked from my surprise audience.
“What did they say?” Brady asks.
“They said something to the effect, ‘We only like pussy, but even vegetarians can admire a fine bratwurst.’ Something like this. I think maybe it does not translate.”
Brady lets out a laugh that I think the entire lake can hear and Otto’s is almost as loud. Instead of being mortified, I laugh too. There is a dock a few yards away and I swim over and jump up on it. I’m facing Otto and Brady, looking toward the shore, and just stand there in all my nakedness in the warm summer sunshine. I’ve survived the worst and that gives me a stronger sense of confidence.
Brady swims toward the dock and I notice him do something under the water. It takes a few seconds, but then he holds up his swimsuit. Otto does the same thing and then they both swim over and join me standing on the dock. “Wurst für alle,” Otto says, shaking his hips and letting his dick swing from side to side.
