The dynamics of coming out are pretty much the same, whether you are publicly announcing your sexual orientation or religious preference. Suddenly friends and relations realize they don’t know who you are. They may dismiss you–you are going through a phase. They may isolate you from the bosom of the family like you have a communicable disease. They may tell you that you are going to Hell–strangers will tell you that you are going to Hell!
I’ve never been in the Broom Closet, and absolutely nobody cares if I am Bisexual, so I don’t have a lot of personal experience to share, but I can offer an excerpt from my Work in Stasis. Arrondius, a notorious homophobe, has been Master of the Moblet Brotherhood for seventy or eighty years. Finally facing his mortality, he has picked a warrior-priest to train as his successor. For two years Arron and Raisch have danced around Raisch’s sexual proclivities, even as they have forged a deep bond. Arron, an adrenaline junky, has even become curious about Raisch’s love affairs–if a situation is scary enough, sooner or later Arron will be tempted to try it himself.
In this scene, Arron’s nine year old son has gone missing. Arron believes he has been taken by Raisch’s half-brother, who has designs on the Moblet Brotherhood:
Arron looked with dismay upon the dainty creature who opened the door. Like Chaila had said, it was more delicate than Na’atanus: a slender young man with brown hair glossy and straight to his shoulders, and hazel eyes made huge with stage makeup. His white face paint and red lip paint were smeared. He looked Arron up and down with an arrogance that belied his size. “I need to see Grace Lord Raisch,” Arron said. “I was told I would find him here.”
“Go away!” Raisch bellowed from within.
Arron eased past the young dancer. They were in a pleasure palace just down the street from the theater. Raisch was sitting on a low platform piled high with large cushions. One young dancer was dangling on the priest’s right arm. Much of his red lip paint was imprinted on the right side of Raisch’s face. There was a second young man kneeling behind Raisch with his arms draped over the man’s neck and his lips close to the man’s ear. A third youngster was clinging to Raisch’s left elbow, and Arron could see that the young man at the door must have been kneeling between the priest’s legs. The four were a matched set.
“What the fuck do you want?” Feeling secure on his own turf, Raisch was a belligerent drunk.
“Neta’s missing–”
“I haven’t got him!”
“No, no. . . ,” Arron said, spreading his hands in a placating manner. “I can’t find him. I need your help.”
The fourth dancer closed the door and curled up in Raisch’s lap.
“Please,” Arron said. “Send them away. Neta is in danger. Please.”
“I promised them dinner. We’re expecting food.”
“That’s no problem. The floorman will find them a nice room where they can eat and entertain themselves.”
Raisch embraced the little dancer on his left. “I promised Gem I’d see him safely home.”
Arron could see that the boy was genuinely frightened—like Arron was the baby-fucker! “The floorman will make sure he gets home safely.”
Raisch shook his head. “It’s his first night out. I promised he would be safe.”
“Yes, all right! Send the others away and we’ll make sure that Gem gets home safely. Time is short! I need your help.”
“Shit. . . !” Raisch struggled to his feet. Arron gripped the priest’s huge paw and pulled him up. “Come!” Raisch said gruffly, gesturing to the dancers. “We’ll find the floorman. You will have dinner. I promise.” He pointed an unsteady finger at Gem. “You stay. I’ll get you home.”
Those enormous hazel eyes focused on Arron. The Master growled softly. “Yes, all right, but go wash your face. Stay out of the way!”
Gem scampered off to the water closet and hid there. Raisch ushered the dancers out of the room. Arron tried not to look at the silk and velvet love nest.
Raisch returned carrying two slabs of bread and some meat. He paused when he saw the Master’s face. “It makes you sick, doesn’t it?”
A gossamer scarf lay on the floor. Arron nudged it with the toe of his boot. “Four of them?” he asked, trying to control his disgust.
Raisch stuck out his chest and had to take a step back. “Yes, I was going to fuck them all!”
“Even the little one?”
The priest couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “He came with us willingly. I didn’t force him.”
Arron huffed. The door to the water closet opened part way and a sharp face, lightly tanned, looked out. “Come out of there!” Arron barked. “No one’s going to hurt you!” The boy hurried to Raisch’s side. Raisch was a foot taller that the boy and easily a hundred and seventy pounds heavier. He wrapped his thick hairy arm around the fragile body. Arron said, “How old are you?”
The boy gulped. “Sixteen. . .”
“How old are you really?”
The boy glanced up at Raisch. “Twenty-one–but I’ve never been out before! Everybody says Grace Lord Raisch is generous. Some of the men are rough. They said he’d be gentle with me.”
Arron was a little surprised by his answer. “What’s your name?”"
“Gem.”
“What’s your real name?’
“It’s Gem–now.”
There was a touch of defiance in his voice–even though he was scared. Arron started to thaw. “Go sit down and be quiet.”
Raisch offered Gem some bread and meat, but the young man shook his head. Raisch released him and sat down amid the cushions. “You realize I’m really fucked up?”
“Go wash that paint off your face!”
Raisch gave him a dirty look but staggered up again to the water closet. They heard water splashing in the basin. When Raisch returned, long baby face glistening, he was more alert.
“Eat a little something,” Arron said, sitting down on the floor. “Do your breathing exercises. Alcohol is fuel! Burn it off, sweetheart.”
Raisch sank down again on the platform, closed his eyes and began to breathe from his belly. After a few minutes the high color left his face. “Tell me what happened.”
There were sharp voices in the hall. Bevin called out, “Raisch! Raisch!”
Arron went to the door. Bevin was grappling with the floorman. “It’s all right,” Arron said. “He’s with us.” He tossed a coin to the floorman and stood aside to let Bev pass.
Bev started to spill his guts. “Chaila said come quick! Grace Lord Andom–”
Arron hauled him into the room and closed the door. Bev looked around the room in wonder and then goggled at Gem. Arron prompted, “Chaila sent for me–”
“Grace Lord Andom–he’s left the city. His galley was pulling out of the harbor when we arrived. Chaila is looking for a boat to go after him. She wants you to come quick.”
Raisch shoved his thin russet hair farther back on his high forehead. “Oh, shit!”
Arron would not be rushed. “Did anyone see him board the galley? Was Tenyeta with him?”
“Why else would he leave the city in the middle of the night?”
“Why didn’t Tag call us?”
“He was pretty shaken. Chaila said–”
The Master raised his hand. “I am not leaving Sterling till I know if Neta was on board. Raisch, see if you can reach Tag. Tell him Bevin is here, and we are going to find Neta. Bev, sit over there next to Gem. Gem, this is his lordship’s student Bevin.”
Bevin sized up the dancer. He was not much taller than Gem, but he was a wrestler with wide shoulders and a deep chest. His lip curled, but he threw a cushion into the corner and sat down without any comment.
After a brief mental search, Raisch said, “I found Tag. He’s about to shit a whale. . . ”
“Then, let’s find the boy and put his bowels at rest.”
Raisch closed his eyes and began to breathe again slowly and deeply, but he was truly “fucked up.” In a few short minutes he was sweating profusely. “Channel for me,” he said in a husky voice. He held out his hands, palms together. Arron folded his legs and resumed his place on the floor. He placed his hands around the priest’s, not quite touching him. He began to channel gently.
Raisch closed his eyes and began to search. “I can’t find him,” he said, at last. “Andom knows I’m looking–”
“Don’t look at the ship! Look for Neta. We don’t know that Neta is on the ship!”
“You’re not helping me,” Raisch snapped back. “You’re blocked. You’re supposed to be guiding me.”
“I don’t know anything about this shit! I’m not trained as a priest.”
“There’s a wall between us,” Raisch answered. “It’s not a high wall–not even chest high. It’s low but it’s thick. Boost your ass over it and help me.”
“What the fuck does that mean? Do you need a seer? Get your sorry butt up and let’s find a seer. We’ll wake up Io. We’ll go to the temple and find Grace Lord Jehnna.”
“I’m a seer, damn you! Help me. Do you want to find your son or not?”
“Don’t fucking yell at me! You’re the one who’s pissed to the eyebrows.”
Raisch opened his bloodshot eyes. For once in their relationship Arron was at a loss. He drew back his hands. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“You do know. When you were in the mountains–when Phen died–you spoke to me.”
“You were speaking through Io. She’s a trained seer.”
“You opened your mind and you let her in. Now I’m open. You have to come in. You did it when Sandor took Tersa and Dre. You spoke to him through me. You can do it again.”
Now Arron was starting to sweat. He ran his hand through his short silver hair. “I can’t. I’m sorry; I can’t.”
“Your son—your luscious little bull calf–is out there somewhere hurt or imprisoned, and you broke in here, interrupting my fucking night out and you tell me you can’t?”
“I didn’t have time to think about it.” Now Raisch was wearing the expression of disgust. “I am what I am. I don’t mean it as criticism. I can’t be that open with a man.”
“When we met face to face at the reservoir in Crystal, I threatened to fuck you. You told me there wasn’t any relationship you hadn’t mastered. You fucking lied to me, didn’t you?”
“You stepped back, didn’t you? I would have culled you, if you hadn’t stepped back.”
Raisch shook his befuddled head. “Not strong enough,” he muttered. “I’ll never be strong enough to be Master. I can’t replace you.”
Before Arron could reassure him, Raisch burst out. “You never even kissed a man before you kissed me! You big baby!”
Arron squirmed. “Not in a hundred years. . . There was a boy a long, long time ago, but there was always a woman. We were never alone together.”
Raisch sneered, “Your love was pure.” Arron opened his mouth and then closed it. Raisch pressed the attack. “And what about Tanghry? You got him drunk and lured him into bed with you and Chell-lin. What the fuck was that about?”
“You and Brik were on the beach. . . you don’t know what kind of power you were throwing out.”
“Brik and I drove you queer?”
Arron looked at Bevin, whose jaw was almost resting on his breastbone. He sighed deeply. “What do you want me to do?”
“Sit behind me,” Raisch said, unbuckling his belt. He started to pull his tunic over his head. “Hold me in your arms.”
“I’m not touching your titties,” Arron said in alarm. “I am NOT touching your titties. I am not taking off my clothes!”
“Shut up! Sit down and spread your legs. Hold me the way you did in Delpha–when I was poisoned. Hold me and talk to me.”
“I didn’t think you remembered that. . . how did you know about Tang–?” Raisch growled. “All right! All right!” He stepped up on the platform and stomped among the cushions. With a loud huff he settled down behind Raisch. “Goddess!” he said. “You are a hairy animal!”
Raisch stiffened.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! –But you are one ugly bitch!”
“Go! Get out of here! Take Bev, and go find Io!”
“Wait! Wait!” Desperately Arron looked over his shoulder at Bevin and Gem. Bev’s heart was in his eyes. Gem seemed spellbound–completely unconscious of his own arousal. “Shit! All right! All right! I can do this! I know how to do this. Do you want me to undress?”
“Not if it is going to make you crazy. . .” Raisch had an inspiration. “The Goddess is with us,” he said in a persuasive voice. “She is always with us. Open yourself to Her, let Her mind-fuck me. You can have your threesome.”
Arron glanced once more at Bev. The boy would turn butt up for Raisch in an instant, but once he became Raisch’s student, the big man wouldn’t touch him. Raisch was a predator, but he wasn’t a monster. Arron exhaled explosively. “We can do this. Lean against my shoulder.”
Three times Raisch inhaled deeply and released his tension. He leaned back and Arron wrapped him in a bear hug. Raisch turned deathly white. “Wait! Wait!” he said hoarsely. “Let me go!” He started to struggle. “Stop!”
Arron released him. Raisch doubled over with his head between his knees. “Don’t puke!” Arron begged. “Damn you, don’t puke!”
“Bad thoughts!” the man replied breathlessly. “Really bad thoughts. . .”
“Your father?” Raisch came from a line of monsters.
Raisch nodded vigorously. “Oh, shit! That was bad!” He was shaking.
Arron lightly gripped his shoulders. “Lean back. Listen to my voice. I am not your father.”
Raisch straightened and took several deep breaths like a diver going over the side of a boat. As he started to lean back, Arron leaned forward and gave him a big, wet cow lick on the neck. Raisch burst out laughing and swearing fiercely. “You dog! You son of a bitch!”
Arron cackled. “Good! Relax! Come to Gramps. . .”
“Don’t hurt me!” Raisch blurted out. “–Don’t rush me. . .!”
Arron said gently, “I’m not going to rush you. Lean back in my arms, sweetheart; let a Master seduce you.”
“You old bastard. . .” Again he took three cleansing breaths and relaxed against Arron’s chest.
Arron looked back for a last time at the boys. Bev did not appear to be breathing. Gem had a look of pain on his face.
“I lied,” the Master whispered in Raisch’s ear. “You are beautiful. . .” Raisch jerked away, but the Master held him. He gave voice to Bev’s longing. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. And it kills me when you walk by and I say nothing.”
For a moment Raisch was annoyed. Arron stroked his biceps. He spoke for Gem. “I was afraid. I couldn’t tell you. It frightens me now. But I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me. Lie back, relax You are safe with me. I am safe with you. I am going to put my arms around you. Here are my hands; take hold. You are in control, sweetheart. Wrap my arms around you like a cloak. My arms belong to you. My strength belongs to you.”
Raisch could not fight the soft voice in his ear. He sighed and let his head roll back on the Master’s shoulder. Their crossed arms lay folded across his hairy chest. Arron kissed him lightly on his corded neck. The priest shuddered with pleasure. Arron began to channel. “Circle,” he whispered. A wall of power rose around them. “Find my son. Find our little brother.”
