"It was a green heron. I'm sure of it. I was strolling along towards the embankment and then saw it standing in the water. I stopped to look. It was having none of that. It flew away. But I'm certain it was a green heron. It must be lost. They live over in the Americas not in Spain. I read that last year, in 2018, one was seen over in Wales. That was only the second time they could remember it there. I've never heard of one here in Andalusia."

Lorenzo wasn't a birder. He just happened to be nursing a pint in the tavern. It was not hard to overhear the conversation. It was late afternoon and few patrons were around. The talk of the bird sighting had grown in volume as the speaker became more enthusiastic.

The Concierto de Aranjuez played softly in the background when Lorenzo walked into the tavern. He greeted his amigo, Renaldo, behind the bar. Then he ordered his usual locally brewed beer. He was simply lost in his thoughts when he heard the chat concerning the heron.

"It is a tool-maker. It knows how to use bits of debris to lure fish to the surface. Unlike most herons it can swim as well. Truly a strange bird!" 

It froze Lorenzo's heart for a moment. Strange bird, he thought. Then more words came to him; misfit, oddball, queer duck. He shuddered as he remembered those and many much worse. Not just one memory. A flood of them roaring into his chest as he shrank up slightly. He slid some Euros onto the counter as he arose and walked away. Renaldo called out a farewell but Lorenzo scarcely heard. He took up the leash of his current pup waiting patiently outside the doorway. They walked slowly back to his flat around the corner there in Seville.

ooOoo

"You're not going to miss that Miller guy, are you? You knew he was a... strange bird." 

Lorenzo looked up from the stack of underground comix he had picked up in a head shop in San Francisco the past Saturday. He went there on weekend liberty to get away from the Presidio of Monterey for a short break. He stared at his roommate. They shared a room while attending the institute. He looked away. He was learning to ignore the soldier. He did that a lot. This fellow was in the Army. Lorenzo was in the Navy as Brandon had been. The school was used by all of the services for language training.

His buddy, Brandon Miller, had left two weeks ago. There were lots of rumors going around. Lorenzo knew the truth. His friend told him all about it in a letter. It had arrived just this past week. His ex-shipmate was living in New York City now. The truth was that the Navy separated him out with an undesirable discharge. That was better than dishonorable but not much. And it was still totally unfair.

Brandon and Lorenzo had first met over at the Naval Support Activity across town. That was the Navy group that gave support to the Naval Postgraduate School where selected officers studied for higher degrees. The two of them had been posted there for a month while awaiting a Spanish language class to open at the Defense Language Institute up the hill at the Presidio army base. It was going to come rather easy for Lorenzo since his parents were emigrants from Spain. 

Then, just after they started their class together, Brandon had left school without getting a chance to talk to any of his fellow students. He'd been called out of class one day to the commander's office and then a short time later packed up his gear and was transferred to another base for some kind of legal processing.

HIs letter to Lorenzo arrived after several weeks. He hadn't really been held without being able to communicate but he had been extra busy and his friends totally understood. Now he was living in an apartment on the Lower East Side in Manhattan. He had always told Lorenzo that he wanted to live there and be in show business. 

Now Brandon was there on the other side of the country. Lorenzo was recalling what they had learned about each other while serving their country. As much as they had been allowed to do so far. The night they spent at the YMCA in San Francisco had taught him so much about himself. He was still trying to absorb it and understand.

They had spent hours just walking around in the city close to Golden Gate Park and near Haight-Ashbury. They talked about what they knew of the summer of love that happened there two years ago in 1967. It was fun for rather naive young men to be checking out what the world was really like. And being pointed out as military by the hippies on the bustling streets because of the black oxfords they were wearing.

Brandon had taken Lorenzo's hand while they walked and were approached by women asking if they wanted to party. They knew the women were prostitute and they declined the offers. Lorenzo had soon dropped the hand. It was not anything he really understood.

Later they spent the night in a room at the Y along the Embarcadero because it was inexpensive.

In the early hours of Sunday during false dawn, as morning birds were chirping, Lorenzo came awake. Brandon was joining him, quietly and furtively, but he knew he was there on the bed. And Lorenzo didn't know what to do. Or if there was anything he couldn't handle. Then, a hand was touching his sex and it began to harden.  

Lorenzo wanted to speak out but he also did not want it to stop. He was surprised at how good it felt. No guy had ever done this to him. No other man had ever touched him and he had never even thought about it. All his sexual fantasies had always been about girls. All of his real life experience was with young women. And pretty specific girls. Really feminine ladies. Ones that were about his own age. But his cock felt good as it stiffened up. And he didn't speak. Because if he spoke then Brandon might stop. And he didn't want it to stop.

His cock was slipped out of the opening of his boxer shorts. It rose up long and curved. Brandon's hand encircled it and a palm was spreading his pre-cum over the head of the prick.

He had jacked off before, of course. And Brandon sure knew what he was doing. But then something really good happened. Brandon was sucking on his cock. It felt incredible. He squeezed it as Lorenzo groaned. He slowly licked and took it deeply inside his hot, wet mouth. Then he released it and spoke, softly.

"Touch me, Loren. Do me, too, man." Hesitantly Lorenzo reached over and found his shipmate's cock in the dim dawn light. He was not sure he wanted to do this. He grasped it and tried to jack it. But he shuddered and let loose even as Brandon was now slobbering on Lorenzo's prick that was ready to burst out with spunk.

"Shit, man. I'm coming now," Lorenzo cried. He could see that Brandon was masturbating himself as well but still sucking on Lorenzo's hardness. And Lorenzo shot out in spurts inside Brandon's mouth who eagerly sucked and took all that he could get while still jacking off and trying to come, too. Finally they both had got their rocks off. 

Now Lorenzo had no idea what to do. He could see Brandon watching him closely as the room became clearer. But he turned away, got up, and went into the bathroom with his ditty bag to wash up. 

Both men got cleaned up and they went down to wait at the Greyhound Station for a bus back down to Monterey. Both were mostly silent, not knowing what to say.

Lorenzo was not ashamed. He didn't think Brandon was either. But he really didn't know what to think. On the ride back to base they would chat awkwardly about the landscape as they moved down the highway. They both smiled at each other along the way. But Lorenzo was very confused. He didn't think he was that way. He guessed Brandon had to be. 

It was perplexing. And, for some reason, both sailors just didn't talk about it. Even when they were alone later there on the base.

And then Brandon had been discharged.

ooOoo

Before he joined the Navy Lorenzo had been attending university. But he was not doing that well. The 1960s had slammed into the students at college with a total freedom on campus away from their old friends and families. It was the age of free love, sex and drugs. Any of them who could take advantage of it did so. For Lorenzo, an incredibly shy and introverted young man, it was a grand awakening. But his personality was such that he never really jumped into the deep end.

He had only one steady girl friend in high school. The extent of their love making was simply making out in his car along a lover's lane. The most he ever did with Patsy was to touch her while she moaned and rubbed his cock inside his pants as it hardened and finally released it's sperm down his leg. He was happy to have her squeal with glee as he tickled her wet pussy inside her pink panties. 

Anyway, just because he had done so little didn't mean he was different. He was certain that making love to a girl would be heaven. He felt that in his bones. But he didn't see any reason why the things he did with Brandon had been wrong. No way, man. It was just complicated, that's all. 

Then, Brandon wrote and told him about the "riot" at Stonewall Inn. He called it an "uprising."

The funny thing was there had been no news about it at all. Not that Lorenzo had seen. Hardly any at all. But Brandon told him all he knew. 

It had happened up in Greenwich Village across town from where Brandon lived on the Lower East Side. He had been there the night the shit hit the fan in the early hours of June 28 in 1969. It had been the same old crap from the cops as happened all the time. But this time people had just said no way. It was going to stop. And they didn't let the cops do whatever they wanted to do like before. This time was different.

Brandon ended up in the hospital but he was so happy. Lorenzo was just glad he was okay.

ooOoo

In six months Lorenzo was called into the office of his Naval commander. Within weeks he had been discharged. His Naval JAG lawyer advised him to go ahead and accept the offer of a general discharge. As far as the service was concerned they didn't know that he had participated in gay behavior. They simply decided he was gay, which was all they needed to get rid of him.

He needed to get a Top Secret security clearance to continue with his training in his chosen rating, which was his job designator. That clearance was out of the question now. They were willing to give him the general discharge instead of wasting time pursuing the need for an undesirable discharge.

Luckily he had completed his training at the language institute. He was able to use that education when he was doing his job search. As it happened there were quite a few businesses that found the need for well trained linguists in their overseas offices. He completed his college education in a couple of years and found a job at the naval station in Rota, Spain. The company he worked for didn't care about his clearance. They had a contract and he filled their needs.

Lorenzo loved living in the Mediterranean. He was transferred all around the area to Spain, France, Italy, and Greece. Even to Morocco in northern Africa. But he never lost touch with Brandon. His navy buddy had made a living in New York. Never famous or anything like that. But he got parts in plays that lasted long enough to save money for the dry times when there was no work.

And Brandon stayed active in Pride. He took part in the Christopher Street Liberation Day parade on June 28 of 1970 as other Pride parades were erupting around the country and the world from that point on.

ooOoo

In early 1989 Brandon got the part he always wanted. It was in the hit show Cats. It was one of those parts that gives you steady work in a show that everyone loves. He was so proud. He invited Lorenzo to come see the show. That worked out great. Lorenzo was not working at the moment anyway. He had been living on an island off the coast of Greece for sometime now doing work translating children's books from English into various other languages in the Mediterranean area.

"You're looking great, Loren. Exactly the way you always were. Give me a hug." Brandon was picking him up at JFK. Much nicer than trying to get transport at the airport. He embraced Lorenzo. Then he gave him a kiss. "Sorry, man. Was that cool?" 

Lorenzo just grinned. He had kissed many people on the lips over the years. Brandon was the only man. But it was fine. It was all good. He hugged him again and then they moved out to the parking area to head downtown into Manhattan. 

"I gotta say, Brandon. You're looking really fit, man. I guess that's all the dancing. But what's that cough?" Lorenzo had noticed that Brandon seemed to have a cold or something as they walked up the stairs in the brownstone where his friend was living. 

"Aw, I think that was a final present from my boyfriend. He packed up and left a week ago." 

"No way. Is that they guy you've been with for the past year?" 

Brandon just laughed. "C'mon. You know me better than that. I think you're talking about Rick, maybe. He was about four or five boyfriends ago." And he chuckled. "Anyway, I've gotta get to the theater. I'll just get you set up here and we'll talk more after the show tonight. I'll be late. You get to see the show tomorrow afternoon."

He continued. "There's the remote if you want to watch TV. Junk food all over the apartment and a deli downstairs around the corner." He gave a little dance spin and left the apartment.

Jet lag had really hit Lorenzo. He was dead asleep all night long. He awoke late in the morning as Brandon was puttering around the apartment. He got up and went into the bathroom to get cleaned up and finally dressed for the day. The two of them were tossing chatter back and forth as that was going on. They were catching up on things not said much in letters.

They did some some shopping in the Village, had lunch in a neighborhood bar, and finally got ready for the 3:00 matinee. They were going separately since Brandon needed to be there early. Lorenzo arrived with plenty of time and watched an incredible show. This was the first musical he had ever seen on Broadway. It met his expectations. 

When he went backstage after the show the excitement was intense. Brandon introduced him to folks while everyone was trying to get on with changing and getting out of the theater. Finally, the two of them left and had a late supper before going back to the apartment.

"You were wonderful, Brandon. Simply grand, my friend. I never realized how talented you really were."

"It's hard work, man. Just working hard and wanting it. So badly." They were sitting on the sofa and Brandon had taken Lorenzo's hand. As he had done those years ago in San Francisco. "I'm so glad you liked it. You know that... because I've always loved you, Loren. I wanted you to see me the way I knew I could be."

Lorenzo paused, but not long. He didn't have to. "Brandon, I love you too. Yeah, I do. I know what that means. And I have to be clear. I'll never love you the way people wanting to be together their whole lives will think of it. But I do. I love you. I haven't loved a lot of people in this life. But I know it. I have felt it. Just a few times. Once has been with you."

"Can we make love, Loren? Can we do that?"

"Yes. Yes, we can. Some things. Just some things, okay? I've thought about it a lot, man. I have heard all the words and stuff. Gay and bi and all that stuff. I don't know what it all means, really. I just know I can't get excited about men. But, I can try to be excited with you, Brandon. I can do that."

And they came together in their arms. Kissing softly and gently. Brandon was eager and Lorenzo was open. He was trying to give himself to Brandon as best he could. It was not all that could have been. But perhaps it would be enough. For Brandon something, anything, was better than nothing. He loved Lorenzo.

They separated there and went into the bedroom where they both undressed. Both men had erections and were clearly ready for making love. As they stretched out upon the sheets Brandon touched his friend and asked what he could do or not do. It was rather naive and artless in its own way. For Lorenzo this was only the second time in his life being with another man in this way.

Brandon had made love to dozens of other men. But often he could only become really aroused by conjuring up a vision of Lorenzo in his heart and mind. That would work for him. And, of course, there had been plenty of other men he had found love with. That was true as well.

Tonight was a culmination, of sorts, for both men. Some things Lorenzo simply could not do. He could not perform anal sex in any way. Brandon just laughed it off. It was just a sex act, after all. They enjoyed themselves the same way they had so many years ago in that YMCA hotel room.

Brandon jerked off his lover with his hand and he sucked Lorenzo with his mouth. This time Lorenzo hesitated only momentarily and then masturbated his friend. He even was able to kiss the head of the hard prick, but he couldn't bring himself to perform a blow job. 

No matter. Both men completed the act and jacked each other off to the end. Then they kissed and relaxed in each other's arms.

As they were lying there in the crumpled sheets Lorenzo noticed some odd sores on Brandon's chest. "What's this, Brandon? What is this on you here, man?"

"Not sure. It's just some kind of pimple or something. Don't worry about it."

Lorenzo touched the marks and wondered. It didn't look right to him. But Brandon knew his own body.

They rolled over and went to sleep.

Lorenzo spent a week in town catching other shows while he was there and they enjoyed themselves physically. At last he needed to head back home in Greece.

The two men kissed good bye at the airport and parted, smiling at each other. "Don't forget, Brandon. Check out those sores, bud."

"Not to worry, Loren. I have it covered." He laughed.

A year later, in 1990, Brandon passed away with a sarcoma. He had developed AIDS. Lorenzo returned when he heard from a friend what was happening. He, along with several other friends, took care of Brandon as the disease progressed.

Then, when it was over, they all went separate ways.

ooOoo

As Lorenzo had told Brandon, he had loved many people in his life. And he surely had loved Brandon. As recently as the past month Lorenzo had told a lady that he loved her. And he meant it. He always meant it. He loved being in love. He loved making love. And people loved loving him. 

He walked into his apartment with his pup and they turned on some music to listen to as they prepared dinner together.