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Note: I wrote this (apparently) back in November. I may or may not have been watching Queer as Folk at the time… But I re-read it and I actually rather like it.

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It know this sounds weird, but ever since I watched an old show on the internet, I’ve wanted to sleep with an under-aged guy. Sure, that would be kind of make me a pedophile, but I’m not that old! Only twenty…two…almost three. But that isn’t why I wanted to do it. I wanted to do it because there is a sense of broken innocence in sleeping with someone who is still widely considered to be a child. Even when I was in high school, I considered age to just be a number. I was
attracted to guys my own age, but I was also interested in the guys older then me.

It was weird, the first time I stepped into the loud, crowded club. Music thumped off every surface. Warm, overheated bodies pulsed together. I felt like I had just stepped into a paradise. But it was a dangerous paradise. More like a purgatory as I found out. I never drank or anything at the club. Not after I found the guy passed out in the bathroom; overdosed on E. No one seemed to care as the guy just laid there. I knew I didn’t want that guy to ever be me.

I made friends though. Mostly with the guys who hit on me, but I wasn’t actually interested in then being anymore then friends. But for the most part, it was okay. They were good people I could hang out with; a bunch of guys I knew wouldn’t leave me for dead on a bathroom floor.

“You need to loosen up,” David had his mouth pressed practically against my ear so IC ould hear him over the thump-thump-thump of the music. “Go get a drink! Just one won’t kill you, you know!”

“I never thought it would,” I shook my head. “I don’t want one, thanks. If I ended up going home with a guy, I like to do it sober.”

“Michael, Michael, Michael…you are such a prude!”

“Hey, just the fact that I am willing to go home with a stranger negates my being a prude,” I joked, but it was kind of true. Maybe I was a prude. That would probably explain a lot of the shit going on in my head.

David rolled his eyes at me. “You’re never going to come out of this shell of yours.”

“I’m not in—,” my eyes flitted over the crowd of bodies and fell on the most beautiful face I had ever seen. It surprised me. He was new. He popped out from all of the other faces; most striking was that he was young. Very young; like he shouldn’t have even been allowed in. He reached up to brush dark locks of hair behind his ear and I noticed the bright red stamp that marked him as Under-21. Even so, he had a long necked, dark brown beer bottle between two fingers.

“I’ll be right back, Dave.”

David watched me walk away and I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. I climbed the stairs to where the raven god was standing, watching the writhing bodies on the floor.

“If the bouncers catch you with that, they’ll throw you out,” I had to press close to him so he could hear me. My hand wrapped around bottle.

“It was a gift. I figured it would be rude to refuse,” he didn’t have any qualms about moving as close to me as I did to him.

“I’m Michael. You’re new.”

He grinned, “Thanks for the notice. I wasn’t sure what my standing was.”

“What’s your name?” I asked. I didn’t think twice about running my hand up his arm. One of the simplest things I could do to show interest.

“Ben,” he held out his hand to shake. “Ben Mathews.”

“Well Ben-Ben Mathews –what do you say to a dance?”

He looked up over the crowd, “Down there?”

I laughed, “It’s kind of hard to dance on the stairs.”

“Um, sure,” he nodded. He let me take his hand and lead him down the steps to the edge of the floor. I noticed that he pressed close to me, like he was shying away from the rest of the room; like I was the only person in a room of crazies.

“Something wrong?”

“I should warn you…I can’t dance to save my life.”

“That’s okay, I’m crap too.” I smiled. I was showing my teeth –a genuine smile. As soon as I realized, I stopped, turning my face away. “We can be shitty dancers together.”

“You have a really cute smile,” he grinned.

“Shut the fuck up before you make me blush,” I shook my head. “So, how old are you?”

“Well, I can’t lie and tell you twenty-one,” he flashed the red stamped hand. “Don’t tell anyone –I’m seventeen. Almost eighteen!” He added the last part as though it was an afterthought. To reassure me that he wasn’t totally jailbait. But even so, I was more intrigued.

“You ever come to a place like this before?” I asked. I folded his hands into mine and shifted closer.

“Um, a couple of times. I’m not sure if I like it or not… I’ve seen you here before. You just haven’t noticed me before.”

“Sorry, I must have been temporarily blind. You’re the most gorgeous little twink I’ve seen in my life.”

“Now you’re making me blush.”

“That’s okay; it suits you. You’re young enough to make it look cute.”

“You’re cute too. You’re the reason I came back here. I…I was hoping you’d notice me.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked. “We could go some place more quiet. The café down the street…my place.”

He grinned, “How about we see how it goes at the café? And then if it goes well, we can think about going to your place.”

I nodded, “Alright. Let’s go.” I laced my fingers with his and tugged him long behind me. We stepped out from the club and walked down the street to the Pride Café. We were in the heart of “gay” part of town. The best part of town.

“So,” I slid into a booth, “what brings you into this part of town?”

He shrugged, “Just exploring. You know, feeling out new opportunities.”

I nodded, “Sure, but I at least waited until I was legal.”

He nodded,, “Yeah, but once you try it, it’s kind of hard to stop.”

“Right. So, tell me about you, Ben.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, everything.”

“I go to Jefferson High. I’m a senior. I’m going to the U in the fall for Media Arts. I like to draw…and write. That’s it really.”

I nodded, “Okay.”

“What about you?”

“I work here part-time. Classes at the U for nothing in particular. I like comics, but I can’t draw for shit.”

We looked up as one of the night waitresses came up to get our order. I got coffee and a piece of pie. He ordered a soda and donut.

“So, how many times have you come down here?” I asked, nursing my hot cup between my palms.

“I think this is like my third time. I just like to observe. Watch the crowd. Get the feel for how other guys like me act.”

“You can act anyway you like. You don’t have to find a stereotype to fit in to.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he shook his head. “I like to people-watch.”

“Okay, I get it.”

He sipped his soda and licked the glaze from the pastry off his fingers. Watching his tongue circle his fingertips made me lard. I suppressed my groan, biting my lip. I wanted to take him home and fuck him two ways from Sunday.

We chatted some more while we drink and ate. When we finished, I grabbed the bill and paid. We shuffled back outside and meandered towards my car.

“So, can I give you a ride home?”

“What about your place?”

“Really?”

I wasn’t sure why I was surprised. I had been hoping that the last hour or so would be leading up to such a request.

“Yeah, of course. I mean, that’s part of the point, right?”

I tilted my head to the side, looking at him quizzically, “Ben…you’ve never gone home with a guy before, have you?”

He blushed, “No.”

“Okay, well…you understand though, right?”

“Understand what?”

“You understand that when I ask you to come home with me, I want to have sex with you.”

“Oh…yeah, of course.”

“But you’ve never gone home with a guy before.”

“I just said that.”

“Are you…you know.”

“What?”

“A virgin?”

“Oh…um,” he reached up, pulling on his ear.

“It’s okay,” I smiled. “If you’re sure, just say you want to come with me. Otherwise, I’ll drive you home.”

He thought for a second before looking straight at me. The sharpness of his eyes, so determined, both surprised and aroused me. “I want to go home with you.”

“Okay. Get in.”



“This is a really nice place,” he looked around, shrugging out of his jacket. “This must set you back a pretty-penny.”

I shrugged, “Not my money. Take off your shirt.” I hung up my coat and went to the kitchen. “Drink?”

“No thanks,” he shook his head. I watched him pull his shirt over his head. A smooth expanse of skin –just like I thought. “Um, is this okay?”

“Perfect,” I nodded. “C’mon, the bedroom is this way.” I grabbed the front of his jeans, tugging him along.”

“So,” I pushed him towards the bed. “Here’s how this works. I blow you. Then I fuck you. We both get off. You can stay over if you want, but considering…I don’t endorse it.”

“I told my parents I was staying at a friend’s house,” He leaned up on his palms. “It’s not a problem.”

“Good,” I nodded. “Now, you have thirty seconds to back out before I rip off your pants. Anything to say?”

He shook his head, “No…well, you know.”

“Know what?” I stepped forward, kneeling over him and undoing his jeans. He felt good and sinewy under my hands. Delicious.

“Um…be careful, okay?”

I grinned, rolling my eyes, “I know my way around.” He looked nervous so I dropped my carnal act. “I’ll take care of you, okay? I’m no Jack Pfifer, but I know what I’m doing.”

“Who is Jack Pfifer?”

“Only the hottest guy it he city,” I shook my head. “Just relax and enjoy, okay?” I leaned up, pressing a kiss to his mouth. I groaned. His tongue was sweet. I could taste every drink he had had that night. Beer, a cosmo, maybe even a martini. He gasped a little as I pulled down his jeans and boxers. I didn’t even think about it before taking him into my mouth. He swore, tipping his head back. I grinned, stroking my hands up his stomach.

“Oh Jesus,” he reached up, pressing his palms against the headboard. “What the hell are you doing with your tongue?”

I laughed, “It’s called a blowjob. If you’re a good boy, I might teach you a few things about them.”

His gasps and groans were melodic and wonderful to the ear. I pulled his clothes the rest of the way off before straightening up to kick off my shoes and peeling off my socks. My shirt pulled over my head and got tossed away. I pushed my pants over my hips. He looked up at me appreciatively.

“Wow, you’re chest is about as impressive as your apartment.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment…but it’s not the feature I’d really like to draw your attention to.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I supposed to be looking at your dick? ‘Cause to be honest, it’s pretty great too.”

“You’re pretty good with flattery,” I shifted down onto the bed. “You sure you’ve never done this?”

He shrugged, “I told you –I watch things. I kind of know what’s supposed to happen.”

“Ah, but what about what you want to happen? Are you really going to let me boss you around like this?” I opened the side table drawer and pulled out a condom and some lube. He watched with interest as I ripped open the foil and unrolled the sheath over my member. He hadn’t even touched me and I was harder then he was. “Turn over.”

“…What if I say no?”

“I’ll fuck you right where you sit. That’s a pretty good position too,” I shrugged. The drop of lube was cool, but it just made me harder. “It’s up to you how you want it.”

I stroked myself, slicking up the lube while I let him think it over. Finally, he shifted over onto his stomach. I couldn’t help but grin again, kneeling over him. “Good boy. You’d make a pretty good, given the proper master.”

“That’s a little scary…”

“You’ll learn to push aside your inhibitions,” I promised. “This will probably hurt, so you just need to relax. I’ll take it slow.”

He nodded, folding is arms under his head. He stayed still as I pushed into him. I watched his mouth open in the start of an involuntary protest. Then it turned into a vehement agreement. He shifted, reaching back and grabbing my ass to urge me forward. I leaned down, kissing his back. The noises he made in his throat were like none I had ever heard before.

“Fuck this pansy shit –do it harder.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.”

“I’m just telling you what I want,” he glanced over his shoulder at me. “I should take some kind of control back, right?”

“Of course; but be careful of what you wish for, Newbie. You might get too much.” I pushed harder into him. He squeezed his eyes shut and gave forth a throaty groan.

“It doesn’t matter –really fuck me. Like you would any other guy.”

“Any other guy, I wouldn’t have thought twice –but if you want it,” I pulled free, shifting him onto his back. He looked a little startled but I placated his worry with a kiss while I pulled his legs up over my shoulders. I leaned back, kissing the sides of his knees while I pushed back inside.

“Holy Jesus fuck,” he reached up, gripping the headboard again. His hard-on pressed up between our bodies. His open month was a dark, wet cavern just waiting for my tongue. I tasted those sweet noises from his throat, kissing him until I was forced to surface for air.

The apartment felt hot and I could feel the sweat beading on my skin. I reached up, brushing his hair off his forehead. It slicked back, warm with heat from the sex.

“Harder,” he breathed. He reached up, pulling his fingers through my hair. I picked up the pace, making him shudder with every thrust. His head tipped back, exposing his throat. I bit down softly on smooth, pale skin. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

I laughed as the sticky white substance shot spectacularly out onto his chest. I kept pumping, not far behind. When I finished, I rolled away. He looked embaressed, his hand hovering over the mess on his skin like he wanted to brush it away, but wasn’t sure if he should.

“Wait,” I pulled off the condom, tossing it into the trash. I leaned over him and licked a line up his stomach. He shivered. It was still boiling in the room, but since we parted, I could feel the temperature starting to drop back down to normal. After his mess was cleaned up, I shifted off the bed. “How about that drink?”

“Just some water.”

“Sure,” I nodded. “Just wait that pretty ass of yours right here.” I leaned down to kiss him before stepping out into the kitchen. When I came back, he was pulling his clothes back on. “Going somewhere?”

“N-no…”

“Then stay naked,” I pressed a kiss to his lips and the bottle of water into his hand.

“A-are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Not like there’s anyone here but us.”

“Okay,” he nodded, pulling his shorts back off. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “So, what now?”

I hummed, coming behind him and kissing his neck. “Well, give me twenty minutes and we can probably do it again. I’ll make it last longer the next time.” He shied away, opening the water to take a drink. My eyebrows furrowed together, “What? Didn’t you like it?”

“That’s not it!” He shook his head, “It’s…I know we just had sex and that was great, but it’s not like it meant anything.”

“Sex doesn’t always have to mean anything.”

“Doesn’t it? Even if it’s just that we’re both a couple of hot, horny guys with nice dicks and tight asses who like to screw around?”

“You’re a little uptight, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I just…I guess I imagined my first time to be more…”

“Romantic?” I laid back against the pillows. “For love? I did too. Then I realized after my first boyfriend…it’s not worth it.”

“What’s not?”

“Love. It’s for pussies. Leave it to the heteros and the lesbians.”

“That’s kind of cynical, isn’t it?”

“That’s just experience talking. You’ll learn,” I tugged him back into the pillows with me. “But, let’s focus on keeping a sexy mood. You’re depressing me. Let me blow your mind.”

“Again?”

I grinned, kissing him, “Yeah. Again.”

Removing Dark Little Town

Some may have noticed if they are subscribed to my Yahoo!Group or read my stories on AFF or FictionPress that I have removed the original Dark Little Town Series.

This is because I am going through a heavy editing process with it, hopefully for future publication. I wanted to make sure there would be no problems with that, so I opted to remove the story in its entirely from the internet at large.

If you have copies saved to your computers (for whatever reason), I simply ask that you delete your files. I don't suspect anyone would have them, but you never know.

Thank you for reading my stories, and I encourage you to continue doing so. I would also love to hear feed back --even critical feedback, from people who like my writing (and those who hate it...).

Samma

Polar Opposites (Possible Submission Peice?)

Polar Opposites

I haven’t eaten in three days. Or at least, nothing of real substance. I am starving and for no reason other then the fact that I want to. I am already pretty thing. It’s not like I’m going this so I can feel good about myself. I know that what I’m doing is dangerous, but the truth of the matter is, I don’t care.

I’m partaking in other risky behaviors as well. Overall, I’m just not being a well rounded individual. My first year of college and I’m just fucking my life up. Because I don’t care.

And the saddest part of this whole thing is that I should care. I have some good shit going on for me right now, but all I can think about is drinking, fucking, and barely scraping by. Especially the fucking. I love the fucking.

Even now, from my little corner of the campus library, I’m scoping out my next conquest. There’s a straight guy, not even worth my time, sitting in a chair across from me. A professor, looking very out of his element, is at a computer a few feet away. A couple of girls are whispering in the stacks, just out of my line of vision. Usually, this is a hot spot for picking up cute guys, but tonight, it’s cold.

As I get up to go, I see him, He’s gorgeous. He’s looking frustrated, gazing at the numbering system on the end of the shelves, and then at a slip of paper in his hand. I breath for a second before making my move.

“Need some help?”

“Um, I just don’t understand Library of Congress, I guess.”

He’s so shy, it hurts and I’m excited just thinking about how great his skin is going to feel against mine.

“Here, let me see,” I hold out my hand for the slip, which he offers to me. “Ah, it’s this way.” I beckon him to follow me through the stacks. A moment later, I hand him the small GLBT-interest book he was looking for.

“It’s, uh, it’s for a class,” he stammers to explain.

I shrug, “Whatever. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Um, I’m Derrick,” he holds out his hand.

“Luther,” I shake it. “What do you say to some recreation, Derrick?” I raise a suggestive eyebrow.

“R-recreation?”

I lean close to him, “I’m so horny right now…and the bathrooms up here are great for hooking up.”

“I, I’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “I don’t really do that kind of thing.”

I almost can’t suppress the displeased groan, but I manage. I give him a soft little smile and a shrug, “That’s OK. Just thought I’d ask.” I give him my best ‘no hard feelings’ grin and go back to pack up my bag. I take my time, like I’m giving him the chance to change his mind. But he doesn’t, so I make my way down the stairs, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Once outside, the cool air feels good against my skin. I decide that food would be a good idea. It’s not like I’m trying to starve myself to death, so some solids in my stomach would be excellent. Especially if I wasn’t going to get any sexual nourishment.

“L-luther?”

I turn at the quiet voice that had followed me. My heart leaps, hoping that he has changed his mind.

“Yeah?”

“Um, do you want to have dinner with me?” He asks. I know it has taken him a lot of courage to be able to follow me like this and ask, and that just drives me even more insane. “I don’t really have any friends, and you know, just ‘cause I don’t want to have sex with you—”

I stopped him, “You’re babbling. I was just headed to Commons for dinner, why don’t you come with me?”

“O-okay,” a grin breaks across his face and he’s even cuter. It totally pains me that I am now entering into a totally platonic relationship with him.

“So,” I clear my throat s we start walking again, this time with him by my side. “Is that stutter real, or are you just nervous?”

“Oh, uh, well…I’m nervous as hell,” he begins to turn red.

“How can a boy as cute as you be so nervous? And not have friends? That is ridiculous.”

“I used to be…big.”

“You were fat?”

He nods, “Yeah. I got teased a lot in elementary and middle school, so I don’t really make friends that easily. But I started to diet and exercise in high school and I lost it all.”

I can’t help but imagine what this little demi-god had looked like as a fat kid. I mean, he can’t have been too bad, if he lost it all in high school. He must have realized what I am thinking, because he chimes, like he was reading my thoughts.

“I used to not be able to shop in the Young Men’s section of stores. My Mom finally gave up and just shopped at this little local place called Hefty’s. I was pretty huge.”

“How the hell did you lose it all then?”

“Exercise. Low-fat diet. It actually came off pretty easy once I stopped stuffing my face every time some kid called me Lardo or Tubby.”

“Aw,” a little frown makes me pout. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah, well, kids are cruel.” He turns to look down the street as we make our way to cross.

“Trust me, I am not like those kids. I think you’re hot,” I grin and take his hand in mine. I notice he kinds of tenses up, but I don’t say anything about it, instead tugging him towards the dining hall.

The Commons is pretty quiet when we go in. I drop his hand and pretend not to notice when he rubs his palm against his thigh, like I am some kind of dirty tramp with the gall to touch him or something.

He follows behind me like a puppy and we both pick up trays. We each get a burger and fries. He adds a salad and a side of cottage cheese to his tray, while I opt for a bowl of soup and a piece of cake. To drink, we both get a glass of coke –then he gets a chocolate milk while I get a juice.

I kind of figure this much food will be a bad idea, but I also don’t want to rouse any kind of suspicion. We pay for our meals and then slid into a table near the back.

“So, do you proposition guys in the library a lot, or am I just special?”

“Well, if I tell you what you want to hear, are you more likely to sleep with me?” I raise an eyebrow, coyly.

“Um, probably not,” he shakes his head. “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive, but…well, I don’t have sex.” I must look confused, because he feels the need to continue. “I mean, it’s not that I can’t. I just don’t. It’s like a phobia, I guess. I like sex! I know like everything there is to know about it –gay or straight. Ask me anything, seriously.”

“Wait –you don’t have sex, but…?”

“I read a lot. It’s like…a hobby.”

“I think that is one of the most fucked up things I have ever heard.”

His face is totally red and it’s just fueling the licking flames of desire in the pit of my stomach. He is driving me mad. How could a guy so cute be such an innocent? Former fatty or not.

I watch him lean over his tray and carefully eat his cottage cheese. Then he carefully assembles his burger. No-Fat mayo on the top bun, layer of spinach, two tomatoes, a sprinkle of minced onions, and a little extra mayo on the burger to hold the toppings together. But then he doesn’t eat it. He moves instead to his salad –spinach leaves, low-fat French dressing, and shredded cheddar cheese.

I’m not even hungry anymore, amazed with watching him eat. He shifts his glasses, blows, and plates around on his tray. He keeps his head down until he realizes I’m watching him, just drinking my coke.

“Something wrong?”

I shake my head, “No, not especially.”

“Then, could you stop watching me? It’s a little weird.”

“And you’re a little OCD.”

There is that goddamn blush again. It makes me want to pick him up and bend him over his chair. But I don’t think that he would be too keen on that idea.

“Maybe, just a little.”

“You’re very methodical,” I shrug. “I’m not making fun of you. It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s obnoxious.”

“It’s endearing.”

“You just say that because you think you want to have sex with me.”

“I think? No, no, no. I know I want to have sex with you.” I finally take a bite of my plain burger. My stomach seems pleased, even if my tastebuds aren’t overly stimulated. “I don’t sleep with just anyone,” I tell him. “I’m rather easy, but you gotta be willing to play by my rules. You gotta met my criteria. Picking up guys is harder then you might think.”

“I never said anything about that. I just mean, you don’t want to have sex with ‘me’. You want to have sex with my body. You don’t actually care anything about ‘me’.”

I lean back in my chair, processing what he has just said. It made a lot of sense. I didn’t really give a crap at all about the guys I slept with. Most of them, I probably couldn’t even put a name to a face. And that was bad. Really bad. My head finally clicked together all of my dangerous activities over the last couple of months and I found a myriad of questions running through my head.

Had I used protection that first time? Did I swallow that one time with that guy in the Tech Ed building? What about that kid down the hall in the dorms? When was the last time I checked the expiration date on my stash of condoms?

“Luther? Are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad,” I shake my head.

“Are you sure? You look mad.”

“Mad at myself, not at you,” I shake my head again. “I’m just realizing I’m kind of a fuck up…and generally, a really bad person.”

He frowns, “You’re not a bad person.”

“You don’t even know me. And you should count yourself lucky that you said you weren’t interested in me –”

“I never said that I wasn’t interested in you. I just said I don’t have sex.”

“Whatever. Be glad.”

His frown deepens, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a nineteen year old virgin? And not like by choice either. I really wish I could be more like you.”

“More like me?”

“You may have noticed, I’m not exactly normal,” he raises an eyebrow. “I’d give anything to be flirty and promiscuous like you. But I can’t, because if I were to try that…it would just turn out horribly wrong.”

“Are you religious or something?”

He shakes his head, “Not at all. Just painfully shy and incapable of physical contact.”

“You let me hold your hand,” I point out.

“I let you, but I didn’t like it.”

I hum, trying to understand, but having trouble. “So…how do you do it?” I finally ask, “How do you abstain?”

“Umm, I don’t know. I guess I just kind of have become a shut-in. But, I obviously don’t proposition people, and people don’t proposition me.”

“Even people you find attractive?”

He looks shocked, “Especially not people I find attractive! I’m no Casanova! I stay in the background and try not to be noticed.”

“Well, that’s no way to get laid,” I roll my eyes.

“I want my first time to be special,” he looks down at his tray. His face is turning pink again. “I know that sounds stupid, but I want to be love, you know?”

“Honey, it could be years before you fall in love.”

“I can wait,” he shrugs, looking up at me again. “I mean, I don’t think I’m the kind of person who will find their soul mate and that’s going to be only person I’m ever with. I don’t want to be that kind of person. I want to fall in love. I want to have my heart broken. Does that sound weird?”

“No…not really.”

After we parted, I thought about what he said. And I realized, that maybe he had the right idea. He wasn’t saying no to me because he wanted to. He wasn’t even putting down the general idea of sex. He had a right to a ‘special’ first time. Deserved it even. And as I thought about it, the more I realized, that I had always wanted the same thing he did. To love, lose, and live to love again.

I Kissed A Boy

I Kissed A Boy

The club was loud, and my friends were just adding to the din with their raucous laughter and jibbing. I had been hanging to the back of the group for some time now, like I usually did. I liked to watch them –a fairly well sized group of straight boys, laughing and touching each other rather inappropriately. And there I was, the token gay guy who had to silently grin and bear it or be ousted. They knew I was gay and I was still their friend, but when I had come out to them, the rules had changed…

“Hey man,” a large arm wrapped around my neck, “stop being such a lonely queer over here, huh?” I laughed as his knuckles ground into the top of my head.

“Well, you guys are just giving me such a great show, why ruin it?” I didn’t really fight that hard to get out of his arms… He was my favorite. Cute, athletic looking. Great body. I had enjoyed having Gym class with him all through high school and rooming with him our first year of college. I had seen the boy naked, and damn was he a fine specimen of man.

“That’s sick dude; you gotta tell us when we’re being gay,” he teased.

“Sorry man,” I finally brushed his hands away. He felt too good, especially when I knew nothing could ever happen between us. “I see some fine lookin’ ladies over there –why don’t we ask them to dance?”

“I’ve got a better idea,” he grinned. He gave a little nod at our friends to leave us alone, before dragging me to the dance floor.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Trust me –they’ll come to us,” he winked. He put his hands on my hips, and pulled me up against him, grinding us together.

“Jesus fucking…” I whispered, looking down. “Dude…”

“Relax.” He leaned close, swaying my hips in time with his and put his mouth right next to my ear. “Ladies love the gay thing.”

“Which might work well when you’re straight but I am…you know.”

“I know,” he grinned, leaning back to look at me. “But face it –how many times in your life is a half-decent straight dude gonna let you get this close to you? It’s like a fetish for you gays, isn’t it?”

My mouth dropped open, “Excuse me? Not all gay guys like the straights, okay?”

He laughed, “Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I am offended!”

“Let me make it up to you then?” He leaned close again. His lips brushed the spot just below my ear. I could feel my face getting hot.

“Dude, I don’t want to be your ploy to pick up chicks.”

“That’s good, ‘cause to be honest, I don’t really want them… I think my girlfriend might get a little pissed,” he laughed again. That laugh made my knees feel like jelly, but I managed to stay on my feet.

“And you dancing with me isn’t going to piss her off?” I raised an eyebrow. “Am I some kind of scapegoat or something?”

“Of course not,” he frowned. The song changed, something a little slower as the night was starting to wind down. His arms wrapped around my waist and he pressed his forehead to mine. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Dude…we’ve been best friend since middle school,” I gave in to him and put my arms over his shoulders while we continued to dance.

“And I know you’ve watched me with those love-sick-puppy eyes for at least the last three of those eight awful years.” He raised an eyebrow suggestively, and then frowned at my bark of laughter.

After a moment, I sobered, “Man, c’mon…I’m gay, you’re not. Sure, I’ve had a little crush like every gay guy gets on his straight best friend, but…I knew thing could become of it. That’s okay with me.”

“I don’t know where you got that idea from,” he shrugged. “I figured you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That…I’m not completely straight. I mean, yeah, I love the girls, but…seriously. Dudes are hot.”

“You such a pig,” I hit him on the shoulder. He laughed, but didn’t flinch or move way from me. “Why are you telling me now?”

“Because…you look really good tonight, and…I’m finally at a place in my relationship with Rachel where I think it’d be okay if I branched out a little more to explore my sexuality.”

“Wait, does she know about this?”

“Not really…but I trust you not to tell her. And if you do and she get pissed, well…fuck her.” He leaned forward and for the first time ever, I felt his lips against mine.

I had admired his lips for a long time. A pouty bottom lip, that just seemed perfect for biting and sucking, and a thin, but not too-thin upper lip. And now they were on mine; my heart was beating faster than it ever had before and I thought I might pass out.

“Wh-what was that for?” I stammered as he pulled away.

“I told you,” he grinned, pressing his forehead to mine. “You look really good tonight.”

“And that was like my reward or something?”

“Or something…if you’d let me, I’d like to give you an even better reward later,” he smirked. I couldn’t believe such dirty things were coming out of his mouth. …What scared me most was that, I had dreamed about this come-on for years –way longer then he even realized. And now it was here, and it was really happening, but it still didn’t feel right to me.

“I-I-I have to go,” I pushed his arms away and stepped away from him. The crowd in the club seemed to have gotten thicker as I tried to make my way to the door. I heard my name being called by our friends but I ignored them. It wasn’t like we had all come in one car, and I hadn’t been officially appointed as designated driver. They were big boys, they could take care of themselves.

“Hey, wait.”

He was right behind me, which kind of surprised me in a way. I guess I had just expected him to drop it, not follow me. He was going to take this infatuation to a whole new level.

“No,” I jerked my arm out of his grasp as he grabbed hold of me. “I won’t do it, man.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not going to ruin our friendship by having sex with you.”

“Dude, I never said anything about having sex with you!”

“It doesn’t matter –anything that I do with you that isn’t strictly platonic is just going to blow up in our faces. So just…leave me alone, okay?”

He looked hurt. My first instinct was to comfort him, but then that would just reiterate the whole spiel and start all over again in a vicious cycle.

“I think you’re taking this entirely the wrong way,” he shook his head.

“I really don’t think I am.”

“Look, I just,” he sighed. “You’re like one of the only guys I trust enough to…put myself out there for. Plus, I know you like me, and we’re already friend so I figured we could just bypass all that other shit that goes along with—“

“No,” I shook my head. “Look, trying to start something with me is just going to turn into shit for us, regardless. We’re like best friends! I’m gay, you’re not. You have a girlfriend, I..I’ve got nothing.”

“You’ve got me! I’m standing here telling you that I want to be more than just your friend! Why are you pushing me away?”

“Because, man! You’re not…I just can’t! I can’t risk our almost ten years of friendship just to fuck you once –or whatever the hell it is that you think you want from me, just so you can ‘explore’. I’ve helped out enough guys who were just exploring. I’ve even had my heart broken by a couple of those assholes. I won’t let you do it to me!”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” he shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to you, you know it!”

“I don’t know it! And that’s why I’m leaving.”

“No,” he grabbed hold of me again. His grip was tight and I felt like he would break my wrist if I tried to pull away. “I won’t let you just walk away from it. I need to know how you feel about me.”

“I love you, you stupid fuck!” I kicked him in the shin. He let go of my arm, and went straight to nursing his leg. I took the opportunity to sprint way as quickly as possible. I hadn’t run since I was on the Track team in high school, two years before and ran out of breath quickly, but he wasn’t chasing me.

I fumbled with my keys, nearly dropping them in the puddle beside my car door, but I managed to unlock it and slide behind the steering wheel. I could see him limping his way down the sidewalk to the parking lot. I shoved my keys into the ignition and backed out of the spot. I probably should have expected him to do something as stupid as stepping out in front of my car, but I didn’t. My breaks squealed as I stopped for him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I yelled at him. He didn’t answer as he came around, and slid into the passenger seat. “Get the fuck out of my car, asshole.”

“No, I’m not finished. I think you should at least hear me out,” he pulled on his seat belt and then leaned down to rub his shin. “And CHRIST, did you have to kick me so fucking hard? God, you can be such a douche bag.”

I shook my head, “Fine, say whatever the fuck you have to say.” I rolled my eyes and started to drive back towards campus and our dorms.

“I didn’t come on to you tonight to piss you off. I was hitting on you because I genuinely would like to do things to you.”

“Things? What the hell man, are we eighth graders?”

“What do you want me to say? You want me to come out and say that I want to suck your dick? That I want to fuck your ass? That I might even be open to the idea of you fucking mine? Seriously, man,” he shook his head.

“Why with me?” I asked, not really sure if I actually wanted to know the answer.

“Because…I think I love you.”

“You love me as your best friend, not as your boyfriend, certainly not as your lover.”

“But…I still love you! It doesn’t mean that if it doesn’t work out that I’m going to just dump you!”

“I can’t get into a relationship with a straight guy right now! I mean, it’s hard enough to find a gay guy whose interest I can keep for more than a month and a half.”

“You’ve kept my attention for two years!” He sighed, exasperated. “I’m finally ready to pursue it!”

“Fuck you,” I shook my head. “Why couldn’t you have gotten the balls to do this when we were living together? Or fuck, even back in high school? We’re twenty years old; we’re too old to be doing this kind of shit to each other.”

“I’m just…I’m really confused, okay?” He shook his head. He was averting his eyes out of the window, like he couldn’t look at me while he was talking to me. I knew this was weird and probably really hard for him. As guys…we don’t talk about this kind of stuff, but it’s important. “I keep having these really sexual thoughts about, well, you –and other guys of course. But it’s like, I know that you’re not going to just totally dismiss me if I suck at being gay.”

“I am pretty certain that you can’t suck at being gay,” I rolled my eyes. “Besides, you’re not gay! You’re straight and confused!”

“I think I know what I am, okay?”

“Okay, okay…just…stop for a second, alright?” I pulled into an empty parking spot outside of our dormitories and cut the engine we both unclipped our seatbelts. “You need to seriously think about what you’re telling me you want to do.”

“I have seriously thought about it. Do you really thing I would initiate something that I wasn’t prepared for? I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not stupid,” I shook my head. I couldn’t stop myself. I reached over and pushed a lock of hair out of his face. “I’m not saying that you’re stupid. I’m saying that…you confuse the hell out of me.”

“I’m not trying to confuse you!”

I shook my head, leaning back in my seat, “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he shook his head. “Just…be open.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I turned to look at him again. He looked so cute with his hair starting to fall over his face, and his layered shirts and his tight jeans. He looked good. I wanted really badly to be able to give in to him. I wanted to let him take me back to his room and do all of those dirty things that he wanted to do, but…that wasn’t me. I couldn’t do it. I had too much respect and admiration for him to let him do that to himself –and to me. And I told him that.

“Fuck that,” he shook his head. “I want you.”

“There are lot of other guys you can experiment with.”

“I don’t want just any other guy,” he shifted in the seat. The car was cramped and he pressed me against the door to kiss me again. My head hit the glass, but barely noticed as his hands shoved under my shirt. His finger tips were hot and expert as they stroked my skin.

“Jesus, why are you crying?” he pressed his forehead to mine. He reached up, brushing his thumbs under my eyes. “Don’t cry, asshole.”

“You’re so fucking perfect and adorable and…I want the same thing you do, but I can’t. I can’t…I can’t really explain why, but it just can’t happen, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay!”

“Just…leave me alone for awhile, okay?” I pushed him back into his seat, and started to get out of the car. He was right behind me though, as I started to walk towards our dormitory.

“You can’t just leave me hanging like this!”

“I can,” I shook my head. “I don’t have to explain shit to you.”

“The hell you don’t,” he grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around to face him. “Why are you making this so hard?”

“Because you’re so important to me! If you were just some guy at the club, fuck yes I would love to hook up with you, but you aren’t! You actually mean something to me! And if I meant anything to you, you would just stop right now and not push me so hard, okay?” I broke away from him again and continued on my way to my building. He didn’t say anything to me as he followed behind me. He lived in the same building –same floor, but at least we weren’t roommates anymore. If we were still roommates, I had a feeling that the issue wouldn’t be over.

He stood quietly next to me, his arms crossed over his chest as we took the elevator upstairs. When the doors open, he slid past me and stepped out first, moving in the opposite direction as me. I saw him hesitate before he turned the corner towards his room, but he didn’t stop to say anything and I certainly didn’t stop to say anything to him.

My room seemed empty and uninviting as I unlocked the door and slid inside. I didn’t bother turning on any lights as I pulled off my clothes and threw them into my clothes basket. It occurred to me that rather then party, I should have done laundry. Maybe if I had, this entire mess with him would have been avoided.

I slid into bed, and tucked my arm under my pillow. I wasn’t really tired, but I didn’t know what else to do. My roommate wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours (maybe even morning), and I really hoped I would be unconscious by then. I sighed, shifting onto my side. The silence was overwhelming and I felt like it was pressing down on me like this huge black cloak, trying to suffocate me. Minutes passed. Then an hour, and an hour and a half.

I jumped when I heard my cell phone ring. I leaned over the bed to grab it from where it had dropped out of my pocket when I changed.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come over?”

“Dude, no,” I sighed. It was him, of course. “I’ve had enough of this for one night. Get some sleep or something and just…let it go.”

“I can’t! Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to say that shit to you tonight? I don’t want to do anything, I promise! I just…I can’t be in my room by myself, okay?”

I sighed, “Fine. Come over. The door is open.”

“K. I’ll see you in a few then.” He hung up, and I sighed, snapping the flip-top closed before letting it fall from my fingers to the floor again. It only took him a minute or so to give one small knock on the door before opening it.

“You want this locked?”

“It’s fine,” I shook my head.

He made his way through the dark to my bed, and sat down next to me, “I’m sorry tonight went so badly. I really…I guess I didn’t think it through, and it all just kind of came out.”

“It’s fine,” I shook my head.

“I really do like you though…you know, like that.”

I shook my head, “It’s not happening, okay?”

“I know that!”

“Then…seriously dude, just…sit and be quiet, okay?”

He sighed. I was kind of surprised when he stretched out next to me, laying his head on my arm. He kissed me for the third time that night. He pushed close to me, wrapping his arms around me. My first instinct was to protest, but the longer he kissed me and the further his fingers coaxed along my skin…

“You just won’t take no for an answer, won’t you?”

“I can’t,” he shook his head. “I’ve held on to this for too long.”

“What about Rachel, huh? You know, your girlfriend.”

“What about her?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “This isn’t about her at all. This is about you and me.” It didn’t feel so strange, so overpowering as he kissed me again. I had qualms, but I let myself give in to him. I shifted on my side and finally kissed him back, sucking that pouty lip between mine. I felt him smile and gently push against me. He was a good kisser, and we kept at it for a few minutes. My lips felt damp when I finally leaned away from him.

“Okay, we can do this, but…it can’t be like, a thing okay?”

He nodded, “Okay. Simple, easy, no strings attached; I totally understand.”

“Good,” I nodded. “Now…keep kissing me.” I leaned forward to initiate this time. It didn’t take much for him to slip down to press that perfect mouth against my throat, and then my chest. His jeans caught on the blanket between us as he slid over top of me. My fingers linked into his belt loops, and I tugged his lips back to mine. He tugged down the blanket, pushing it out of the way. His jeans felt heavy through my boxers, and I couldn’t resist the urge to reach down and unzip them. All of my high school fantasies started to come true as I stroked my fingers along his package for the first time. His jeans pushed easily down his hips.

“Hold on a sec,” he breathed. He shifted to pull off his jeans the rest of the way, and then tugged his shirt over his head before resuming his position on top of me. He pressed his hips to mine, thrusting our bodies together as we kissed. I’d been with a handful of guys, but this was like the most erotic thing I had ever been a part of… Like a forbidden fruit had just been handed to me, and it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. I was just waiting for the food poisoning to kick in.

His mouth moved to bite softly on my ear, “I want to make you come.” He waited for a second to give me the chance to stop him. But I didn’t, and I leaned up on my elbows to watch him back away and tug my boxers down, and eventually fly off to the other side of the room. He didn’t give himself a change to think twice before putting his mouth over me. I gasped a little, watching him work over it. His fingers stroked my base while his tongue teased my hip. His other hand rubbed between my thighs, his thumb stroking the spot under my balls, and his index finger probed at my opening.

“Jesus,” I sighed.

“What?” Hey looked, licking his damp lips. “You thought I’d suck at this, just ‘cause I haven’t ever done it before? I know things, man. Don’t doubt me.” He grinned, leaning forward to kiss me. His mouth had little traces of precome in it. Usually that might gross me out a little, but on him it was erotic.

“It’s not that,” I shook my head. “You just…you’re full of surprises tonight.”

“I try my best,” he shrugged. We were quiet again as he moved back over me, working his mouth just the right way without my having to give him any direction at all. I felt like I was going to melt when he looked up at me with these slightly puppy-like eyes, like he was asking if what he was doing was okay.

“Oh fuck,” I sighed. I sat up, pulling him away. His mouth was wet with excess saliva and a precome, but I didn’t care at all. His chest against mine was like fire licking my skin. I pushed his boxers down out of the way as I fumbled to reach for the supply box I kept under my bed. “Goddamn it…” I sighed. I moved away from him just long enough to wrench the box from under the bed.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, starting to shift.

“Lay down,” I coaxed. I set the box down on his chest and rummaged through blindly until my fingers wrapped around the familiar bottle. “Yes. Found it.”

“Found what?”

“Lube,” I kissed him. “This will probably be a little cold, just to warn you…but I’ll get you hard again.” The bottle cracked a little as a popped open the top of it. He gave a little groan as I let the bottle pour liberally over our members. My palm wrapped around him, bare, and I stroked the gel-like liquid over us. The slick sound of my hand working over him was kind of a turn on, and I didn’t really lose my erection at all.

I wiped my palm on the blanket, not really caring all that much about a mess. I had to do laundry in the morning anyway, what was a little lube on the comforter? His lips found mine as I pressed our hips together. I began to grind slowly against him at first, sort of testing the water to see how he responded. He grinned against my lips as we kissed.

“Hmm, that feels good,” he groaned. He wrapped an arm around my waist, hoisting me closer. “Do it harder.”

I complied, breathing heavily against his shoulder. If I kissed him anymore, I would probably pass out from the lack of oxygen –and that wouldn’t be very good, seeing as how I was just on the brink…

He grunted a little in his throat, his fingers digging tightly into my hips, thrusting me forward even harder. The lube let us slide easily against one another, and the pocket between our bodies created some nice friction too.

“Ah, fuck –I’m—” he didn’t even get the chance to finish telling me before he tipped his head back and let out the sexiest moan I had ever heard. I felt the sticky evidence of his orgasm between us and that just fueled me. A second later, we were both covered in it, and I rolled away to catch my breath. It felt warm and sticky on my stomach.

He breathed heavily and tilted his head to look at me as I caught my breath.

“What does it taste like?” He asked, running his hand down my chest. The tips of his fingers swirled in the mess on my abdomen.

“Taste and find out,” I shrugged. I watched him pause before he lifted his fingers to lips. His tongue parted his lips to lick it from his fingers. He pondered it for a moment before he shrugged. “It’s…come.”

“As opposed to being…?” I laughed softly. I reached up and stroked his hair.

“I guess I just expected it to be different.”

I shook my head, “Sometimes. It depends on the guy –diet, that kind of thing.”

He nodded. He leaned forward and licked more of it off of me, like getting more of it would give him a better opinion. “I like it.”

“I think it’s best when it’s been on your skin or something first. Fresh from the cock is just…” I cringed. “It’s too warm.”

He shrugged, “Never tried it.” He licked his lips before leaning up to kiss me again. His fingers tugged the tips of my hair and he bit softly at my bottom lip. “Hmm…” he tilted my face up. “Um, I should go clean up.”

I nodded, “Probably.”

“But I’ll come back,” he assured me. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Okay,” I nodded.

“You could get dressed again and come with me. I hear shower play is really fun.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” I shrugged. “We should get some sleep soon.”

It took him a second before he nodded, “Okay. I’ll be right back.” He kissed my forehead before he slid off of the bed. He fumbled around to find his shorts and pull them back over his hips. The light made me wince as he slipped out of the door. I took the chance to pull on my own boxers again, and wipe away the last traces of our excursion with a towel before I slid back underneath the blanket that had gotten shoved aside on the bed.

I had just closed my eyes when he slid back inside. I heard the familiar lock click as he closed the door, and slid back into bed with me. He didn’t say anything as he wrapped an arm loosely around my waist. His forehead pressed against mine, and I turned my hand to press my palm against his bare chest. His skin was still a little damp from the rinse had taken. I could still just barely smell his cologne as I leaned close.

“Getting frisky?” He teased.

I shook my head, shifting to lean my head against his chest. His chin rested on the top of my head, and I felt my eyes close. This was strange…but not a bad-strange. Strange because it just felt so right, to have his arms wrapped around me; like he belonged there. But I couldn’t help but feel like that forbidden fruit still had a worm inside.

A Freedom to Choose

Note: I've been working on this for the last couple of days. I know, it's way to long, and I need to edit out certain bits, but I really like it. It's a little "hot off the press", so there's probably a few errors in it, but whatever.

A Freedom to Choose

I was twelve years old when I ran into my mother’s study and declared quite loudly to her, “Mom, I’m straight!”

She looked up from her computer, where she was most likely player Spider Solitaire and not writing like she was supposed to be doing. She looked a little surprised, “Huh?”

“I just wanted you to know –I’m straight.”

She nodded, “Okay…”

“So, I’m not gay.”

She was trying to hide her smile, and I felt a flush of embarrassment move over my body. I realized in the moment that she leaned back in her chair and started laughing that what I had declared was silly –of course I was straight. Something like 70% of Americans were straight…10% were gay, and the remaining 20% were just confused. My blush crept up my cheeks, and Mom turned in her chair to hold out her arms.

“Come here.”

I moved around the desk, and leaned into her. Her arms felt good as they wrapped around me. Yeah, I was twelve and starting to get over my Mommy-complex, but I still loved her hugs.

“Look,” she finally said, leaning back in her chair again, “just because I write about gay men, doesn’t mean that I want you to be one. If you are, that’s fine, but if you’re not, that’s OK too.” She shrugged. “Where’d this come from anyway?”

I looked down at my hands, “I was just watching TV –they were making fun of you.”

She rolled her eyes, “Screw them. This is just because I finally allowed them to make a movie out of one of my books. This will pass, sweetie. Don’t let the media get to you. –They may attack me, but they should know better than to try that crap with you.” She pulled me down to kiss the top of my forehead. “C’mon, you have homework you need to finish.”

…Now, I was twenty and I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing in the hotel room with one of the actor’s from one of my Mom’s movies. …Well, it wasn’t really her movie –it was based on her book. The fourth one based on her gay, semi-erotic novels. My Mom had taught me that being gay or straight didn’t matter, just so long as I was OK with myself. When Josh had come on to me, it had been hard to resist. He was cute, and I felt drawn to his sleek features. I liked the way he always looked kind of scruffy, like he had just rolled out of bed.

“What’s the matter?” His voice was as soft as his lips as they kissed my neck.

“Um,” I bit my tongue. I was twenty years old. Josh wasn’t a whole lot older. I was straight…or at least as straight as I could be, what with his hands being down my pants. He was obviously gay and fit the bill of his character pretty damn well. “You should probably know…I don’t usually do this kind of thing.”

He grinned softly, “Your Mom is like a goddess…you’re telling me you don’t have pretty boys coming on to you all of the time?”

“No, I do…I just, I don’t usually give in to them.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? Does that mean I’m some kind of exception?”

I nodded, “Kind of.”

He laughed, pulling me towards the bed with him. “Don’t fret,” he pushed me down into the mattress before straddling me underneath him. “Nothing’s going to happen you don’t want.” He kissed me on the mouth now, and I found my arms moving of their own volition, wrapping around his neck. He hummed softly, his fingers coaxing under my shirt. After a few minutes he frowned, leaning back to look at me. “Is something wrong, Patrick?”

My eyes widened and I shook my head, “N-no, of course not.”

“I only ask because you don’t seem that into it…”

“I…I’m sorry.”

He sighed, shifting off me to lean on his elbow and look at me instead. “Talk to me.”

“Talk to you?”

“Yeah. Tell me what’s going on up here,” he reached over to tap my forehead. I reached up to rub the spot.

“Ah, nothing…I told you, I don’t really do this.”

“You got a boyfriend or something?”

“No, I’m…I’m not gay.”

He laughed, “If you’re not gay, why’d you come up here with me? I thought I made it pretty obvious what I wanted to do to you.”

“Yeah, the ‘fuck you right, but good’ comment kind of caught my interest,” I turned my head to look at me. “I’m straight, Josh, but I’m not…straight.”

“Bi?” He tried to tag me.

“More like just curious. I mean, look at the books my Mom’s written –of course it piques interest.”

“But…you’re not gay.”

I shook my head, “No.”

He nodded, shifting onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. When he didn’t say anything, I bit my lip. I was kind of worried that I had like offended him or something. But, I was a big boy. I knew what I was doing. If I wasn’t open to having sex with him, I wouldn’t have come upstairs with him.

“I’m sorry, I’ll go,” I stood up. He leaned up on his elbows, watching me pick up my jacket.

“Are you going to be on set tomorrow?”

I shook my head, “No, my Mom just wanted me to come down and make sure they weren’t destroying her book. I’m going home tomorrow.”

“Oh…”

I smiled, pulling on my jacket, “You seem sad about that.”

He looked up, “I am. I didn’t get to go make good on my promise.”

“Promise?”

“To fuck you.”

I blushed, looking away and shaking my head. My keys jingled as I pulled them from my pocket, “Maybe next time.”

“Is there going to be a next time?”

I shrugged, “Maybe.”

He got up from the bed, catching me by my belt loops as I was starting for the door. My back pressed against the door, the knob wedged uncomfortably in my back. It felt like he devouring my mouth and his nails scraped my skin as he forced his hands up my shirt.

“What are you doing?” I asked when he finally came up for air.

“I don’t think I can let you leave if I don’t know that you’re coming back…not without making sure I can make you crawl back for more.”

“That’s kind of a high order, isn’t it?”

“It’s the truth –no one can get enough of me if I hold onto them long enough.” He kissed me roughly again, hugging me close. I shifted when I felt his pending hard-on against my thigh. He bit gently on my bottom lip, sucking it. Finally he looked up at me, his eyes these big pools of blue, “I gotta know…have you done it with other guys before?”

I nodded, “Sure.”

“Is that a ‘yes’ sure, or just…sure.”

“I have –a few different occasions.”

He nodded, stepping away from me to lean on the side table behind him, “Good to know then.”

“…Are you done?” I asked. “Can I go home now?”

He shrugged, “You don’t have to…but you can.”

I couldn’t help but smirk, “You’re kind of a tease, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, “Maybe just a little.”

I nodded, pushing my way between his knees. He almost knocked over the lamp as I pushed him back. I tried to kiss him just as fiercely as he had been kissing me, but I wasn’t sure if I was succeeding. He groaned, pushing back. His hands were on my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.

“Fuck,” he sighed. He panted, his tongue against his lip. “If you don’t leave soon, I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go.”

“What can I say? You’ve piqued my interest.” I reached up to brush my fingers against the scruffy stubble on his face. “Plus, this whole five-o’clock shadow you’ve got going on is kind of sexy.”

“Now who’s the tease? Sayin’ your straight, but turning on all of the charm,” he tsked, shaking his head. He pressed a quick kiss to my lips before wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “It’s your call, Patrick. We can go back to the bedroom, get naked, and I’ll fuck you like you’ve never been fucked…or you can go back your room and we won’t see each other until the movie premier… If you choose the latter, I can guarantee you’re going to spend the next six months or so, wondering what could have happened.”

I nodded, “Yeah, but if I leave now, I can keep saying that I’m straight.”

He grinned, “Would being something else really be so bad?”

“Not if I hadn’t kept insisting to my Mom that I was.”

“I think she’d understand,” His fingers clasped behind my head and he brought me forward for another kiss. It was like his hands were setting fire to my skin as he reach down, his hands moving under the waistband of my jeans. He licked my lips before sucking at my throat.

“Ah, damn…” I sighed. “Don’t leave any marks…”

“Why not?” He asked, pinching my butt. “I like marking the guys I sleep with…It’s like a territorial thing.”

“I gotta see my Mom tomorrow…I don’t really want to explain.”

He grinned, “Man, your Mom is awesome and everything, but you gotta get over your Mommy Complex. Seriously…”

“I can’t help it, she’s all I’ve got,” I shrugged. I couldn’t tell him that she was sick… I couldn’t tell anyone. She had sworn me, and everyone else who knew, to secrecy. I wasn’t sure how I was going to live without her, but I had to make sure that every tedious whim was satisfied. I just wanted her to be happy before she died… That was why I had come out here to the set. I wanted to make sure it was great for her.

Josh led me into the bedroom again, discarding our clothes along the way.

“Damn,” he nodded appreciatively. “I mean, I just had it in my hands, but feeling it and touching it are two totally different things.” I blushed, not able to really hide myself without looking like a kid. He grinned, pushing me back onto the bed. “I’m giving you a compliment, Patrick…”

“Sorry.”

“You’re so cute when you blush…” He reached up, pressing his finger against my lips. “Suck.”

I took his finger into my mouth, sucking softly on the tip. He moaned, pressing his face into my neck. A few moments later, he was stroking his damp finger along my backside, pressing softly into me. I grunted, turning my face into his neck.

“You’ve done this before,” he coaxed. “Why are you so shy?”

“I’ve never really just…you know, done it like this.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “Well, I’m just really impatient…if you want me suck you off or something, I can do that too.” He leaned in and let his lips brush my ear as he whispered. “Other boys tell me I’m really good at it, but I’m not really sure.” He stroked me with his free hand as he thrust his finger deeper inside. My breath caught, my mouth opened in a gasp. He took the opportunity to give me a very deep kiss, his tongue sparring with mine. When he moved away, he ran his tongue along my entire length.

“Stay right here,” he requested, pressing a rather chaste kiss to my mouth. “I’ll be right back.”

I raised an eyebrow as he slid away from me. He disappeared from the suite’s bedroom and I heard the bathroom door jiggle. When he came back in, he had rolled on a condom and was coating himself with a slick layer of lubrication. The bottle he had in hand was tossed onto the bed beside me.

“So, how do you want to do this?” I liked how warm his mouth was as his lips touched my skin. His hands were warm too as they wrapped around me.

“What do you mean?”

He laughed, “What position would you like me to fuck you in.”

“Oh, uh…”

He shook his head, “Roll over. I think missionary would be best.” He nudged my hip. I complied with him, not really sure. I had slept with three guys my entire life –once my senior year of high school with a guy who loved my Mom’s books, once my freshman year of college, the first time I ever got drunk (again, another fan of Mom), and then a year ago...

“Keep your head here,” Josh whispered. I felt him pressed up behind me. I bit my lip as he started to push inside of me. I pressed my forehead against the mattress. My fingers tightened around fistfuls of the hotel’s thin comforter. He didn’t say anything as he pressed his lips to the back of my neck. He was totally in. His slick hand moved around to grab a hold of me. The only thing I could muster out of my throat was some kid of guttural noise, and I dipped forward as he started to stroke me.

“Feel good?” He asked, his lips on my back. I moaned in reply as he pulled his hand away, grabbing a hold of my hips. “Ready?”

I nodded, “Uh huh.”

He didn’t hold anything back –there was no slow progression like the other guys I had had sex with. He didn’t care that I was kind of a novice. I came to the realization that he was really just using me for some kind of self-satisfaction. Scarily enough though, I didn’t really care… The slick sucking and squelching sounds of him violating me were enough to get everything else out of my head. It was just the two of us, in that spacious suite. Him fucking me like if he stopped, I was going to bolt, and me trying so hard to just take all of it in stride and enjoy it for what it was –pure sex. No strings, no explanations.

“Fuck, fuck…” My cheek pressed against the mattress and I reached down between my legs to stroke myself. I listened to his own throaty moans, coming in my hand just a little bit before his strokes began to slow, and his hip thrusts began to become less frantic and more relaxed.

“I love your ass…” he sighed. It took him a second before he rolled away. I stretched my back, laying on my stomach. I couldn’t help but watch as he pulled off the condom, and tossed it into the trashcan next to the bed. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Learn to do what?”

He grinned, turning to look at me, “You’re so cute when you act innocent.” He turned onto his side to kiss me. “You’re a little slut, aren’t you? Telling me you’re straight when you can take a fuck like that…” He tsked, shaking his head. “I call your lies.”

I licked my lips, shaking my head as I got up from the bed. “I should go.”

He narrowed his eyes, “Patrick, wait…” I had already pulled on most of my clothes by the time he joined me on the floor. “What did I say?”

“You didn’t say anything,” I shook my head. “I have an early flight tomorrow. I should go back to my room.”

It took him a second but he nodded, “Right. …When will I see you again?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know –depends. A couple weeks , or maybe not until the premier.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to hide his bit lip behind his hand as he watched me pull my jacket back on. I disappeared into the bathroom to wash my hands and make sure that I didn’t have any visible indications of what had just happened on my clothes. I had tried my hardest to keep my still-warm come from getting on my clothes –but I wasn’t sure how successful I had been. I hadn’t wanted to be gross and wipe my palm on the bed spread either. I looked OK though, as I exited the bathroom. Josh was getting dressed again too as I picked up my keys from where they had fallen on the floor when we’d resumed.

“Call me,” He requested, grabbing the collar of my jacket. “The next time you’re going to be in town. I took the liberty of putting my number on your phone.” He shoved my cell phone back into my pocket. “Maybe we can discuss this…trauma you have.”

“I don’t have a trauma,” I shook my head.

“If you didn’t, you’d still be in bed with me,” he shook his head before he kissed me. “I’ll see you.”

I nodded, “See you.”

It was a little over a year ago when I met Devin in the campus bookstore. Mom had just been diagnosed, and I was just kind of looking for an outlet to get away from everything. She was in her anger stage and I didn’t want to be the person she took everything out on, so I was distancing myself from her. When she was ready to move on, she knew how to get a hold of me…but I was choosing to lay low and stay in school. I wasn’t really looking for anything, but I found myself in the midst of the bookstore’s fiction section, staring at my Mom’s earlier works. I recognized them from the shelf at home where she had them all lined up. I’d be the first to admit that I had never read one of her novels. I’d grown up in a fairly fatherless home where she had worked herself nearly to death on her books all about the gay romance…but I’d never read one. I’d lost my virginity to another guy, but never thought about picking up a book to get a few pointers. It gave me the creeps really, to even think about what went on in my Mom’s head.

“This one’s my favorite,” a masculine hand tugged one of the titles an inch forward. “It’s an earlier one of her works, and her new stuff is best, but…the end makes me cry every time I read it.”

I turned to look at him. It was pretty obvious he didn’t know who I was. A lot of her fanatical fans were just as obsessed with me as they were with Mom.

“Have you read it?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve never read any of her books,” I shook my head. “As a matter of principle, I refuse to actually.”

“Oh? You’re missing out on some great literature. It’s amazing that her books made it so mainstream –but it’s probably because she’s a woman. If a gay guy tried to write like this and make it big, he’d get shoved into the GLBT section to never be heard of. She’s amazing.” He followed me as I moved on along the shelf towards something a little more safe. “Let me guess, you’re a movie fan.”

I shook my head, “I don’t really watch the movies either.”

“Then why not give it a try? You think a woman doesn’t know what it’s like to be a gay guy in modern times? She’s good,” he assured me. “It’s amazing how often she gets it right on the nose. Like she’s writing it, just for me.”

I turned to look at him. He was cute, I would give him that. His dark hair was shaggy and he was clean shaven. If it weren’t for conversation, I wouldn’t peg him for gay at all.

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

He squinted his eyes at me, “Hmm…should I?”

I shook my head, “No, of course not. Excuse me.” I brushed past him, but he caught my arm. As I turned back to protest, a camera flash went off in my face.

He wiggled the cell phone at me, “Alright, I’ll find out who you are. Then I’ll probably have to assume I was a total ass right now, and I’ll need to apologize. How about your phone number so I can say I’m sorry when the time comes?”

“I’m not gay,” I shook my head.

“Never said you were,” he shrugged, holding out his phone to me for me to input my phone number.

I nodded, taking the phone from him. Against my better judgment, I put in my cell phone number.

“I’ll call you in a couple days. It’ll probably take me that long to figure it out, I’m sure.”

I didn’t answer, handing him the phone back. He watched me with curious interest as I walked away. I couldn’t help but pause as I passed the window outside on my way to my next little haunt. He was still watching me, and gave me a little wave. I felt the blush creep up my face before I scurried away as quickly as I could without looking suspicious.

It was only a couple of hours before he called me.

“I am such an asshole,” he sighed when I answered. “Why didn’t you just SAY you were Samantha Corner’s son?”

“Well, you didn’t really give me the opening,” I leaned back in my chair at my desk, back in my dorm room. I had a girl between my knees. She had looked up curiously when I had actually answered the phone.

“Still, I am a total asshole. I mean, going on about your Mom’s books –you must get come-ons like that all the time.”

“It’s alright,” I put my hand on top of the girl’s head. “Look, I’m kind of busy right now. Can you call back later if you really feel the need to continue this discussion?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” There was a pause. “Ah…is there a better time?”

“Just give me a half-hour or so.”

“Alright. I’ll talk to you then.”

After I hung up, tossing my phone back onto the table, I let the girl finish me off. I felt bad that I didn’t exactly remember her name. She lived down the hall and like all of the others, was a fan of my Mom. As far as I could tell, she liked being able to say that she blew the son of a homoerotic writer.

“Should I come back later,” She asked as I was subtly pushing her towards the door. “Maybe you’d like a little more than a blow job next time?” She raised an eyebrow.

I smirked, “It’s alright…thanks for the offer.” I managed to push her out into the hall way and managed to close the door before she could try and wedge her way back in. I sat back down in my chair, ignoring her knocking on the door. My phone rang, as if on cue.

“I want to take you out,” There wasn’t even a hello from him.

“I already told you, I’m not gay.”

“Again, I never said that you were. I said I want to take you out –for dinner. To apologize for being an idiot.”

“That’s not necessary, really. It happens more then you think.”

“But it doesn’t happen to me. Please. Let me take you out tonight.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me your name?” I countered.

“Ah fuck! I am an idiot! I’m sorry.” I couldn’t help but be kind of attracted to his quick attitude. “I’m Devin Jonas, I’m a creative writing major.”

“Well, Devin Jonas, I’m sorry but I’m not interested.”

“I’m not asking you out on a date, Patrick Corner,” he chided. “I’m asking you out for an apology dinner.”

“You know what would be better than a dinner?” I suggested.

“…Is this something naughty?” He asked.

“What makes you ask that?”

“I just detect this kind of…note in your voice that tells me you’re going to ask me to come over and do something dirty with you. Am I wrong?”

“Very,” I nodded. “I’m a visual arts major…I’d like to paint you for my human form class. I don’t have a lot of friends here, but…I think this project would be best if I did it with a stranger anyway.”

“Of course,” he sounded kind of excited. “Is that really okay though?

“Yeah, it would be a really big help –but there’s one stipulation.”

“Okay?”

“It’s a nude portrait. You don’t have to be totally nude of course, I don’t have to see everything, but...you know.”

“Okay,” the detection of excitement was still there. “I’d love to do it. It’s the least I could do after being such an idiot… Where and when do you want me?”

“Are you free tonight? I’d really like to get started on it. I’ve been putting it off.”

“Of course.”

“Alright, I live in Putnam Hall, three-fourteen. We can do it in my room. Seven o’clock okay?”

“Sure.” There was a pause while he wrote the information down. “I look forward to it.”

“I’ll see you then,” I smiled. “Thanks for your help.”

At six thirty, I set up my easel in front of the couch and started arranging my paints. I was just checking my brushes when there was a brief knock on the door.

I opened the door to Devin, who was looking just as cute as he had in the bookstore. He was sporting a five o’clock shadow now, but it looked good on him. I tried not to let my eyes trail down and mentally undress him.

“Hey,” I stepped back to usher him in. “Thanks for doing this –it’s a big favor.”

“Not a problem,” he started shrugging out of his jacket. “So…where do you want me?”

“On the couch would be fine,” I went to my desk, pulling out my trusty sketching pencils. “Um, you can take off your clothes and put them on the desk. There’s a blanket there if you want to cover up.

“Why would I want to do that?” He asked. I heard a rustle of clothes as he stripped. “It’s not like you’re the first guy to see me naked you know.”

“I didn’t figure I was,” I shrugged. I pulled my stool behind the canvas, looking out over my scene. He made himself comfortable on the couch.

“How’s this?”

I tilted my head. I liked the way the light was reflecting, but his features weren’t standing out enough. “Do you mind a little make-up?”

“Make-up?” He raised an eyebrow.

I nodded, getting up to open my cosmetics drawer I had collected from my years in drama. “Not too much, I promise.”

“C’mon, I’m gay. I don’t mind a little make up,” he rolled his eyes before watching me pull out some things from the drawer. I tried not to look down, away from his face, as I approached him with the eyeliner and lipstick.

“Close your eyes,” I requested. I knelt on the corner of the couch. I couldn’t help but touch his face. “Okay, you can open them….” His pooling eyes were eerily enhanced with the dark eyeliner. I didn’t say anything as I rubbed the lipstick on my thumb before brushing it across his bottom lip. “This might hurt—“ I pinched his mouth and he groaned.

“Ow –what was that for?”

“Color,” I shrugged. I rubbed my thumb against his lips some more, tilting my head to look at his face. There was still something missing. I got up again and grabbed a can of hairspray.

“Hey, whoa…” he stopped me before I could even uncap it. “What the hell?”

“I don’t like your hair. It’s too flat.”

“Flat?”

“Yeah, I want it…up,” I took my hands away from him, and sprayed his head liberally with the spray before pulling my fingers through it. I twisted a few locks of it between my fingers before I stepped back. It was better. Maybe not the best, but it was good enough. I put the make-up and the hairspray away before wiping the lipstick off my hand with a towel.

“Are you always cold to your models?” He asked.

“Would you mind not talking? I’m starting now,” I picked out a sharp pencil and started to sketch. “You can talk once I finish the preliminary sketch.”

He nodded, kicking back on the couch. I tried not to take notice of how he was almost purposely spreading his thighs. As I did the rough sketch, I was purposely ignoring his ‘equipment’. After a half-hour or so, it was pretty hard to find other ways to occupy myself, so I just gave in and looked. I was very surprised to find that he was uncut. Not surprising was his lack of pubic hair. Like the other guys I had come into contact with, he most likely shaved. I wasn’t sure why, but I had always had a severe distaste for baldness ‘down here’. Even on the girls I had slept with. I mean, unkempt was disgusting too, but being completely barren of hair was immature and unnatural...but I kept it to myself as I sketched.

“How’s it coming?”

“Just give me a few more minutes,” I insisted. “Then you can talk all you want.

He sighed, turning his head to look out of the partly opened blinds. My room overlooked a barren lot so I wasn’t too concerned about anyone looking in my window. I looked at him for a moment, my pencil stopping midline. The pencil dropped from my hand immediately and I leaned over to grab my digital camera from the bookshelf. Luckily he didn’t turn until after the flash had gone off.

“What are you doing?”

“Stop moving. Turn back to the window,” I shook my head. I fiddled with my settings as he hesitantly turned back. “Goddamn, that’s perfect… I’m sorry.” I put the camera down, sitting back down with my pencils again. “I couldn’t help myself, I guess.” I averted my eyes from him as I finished the sketch. “Okay, you can move around a bit now, if you want. I’ve got the basic sketch.”

“Good,” he sighed, stretching his arms above his head. “Man, staying still is harder then it sounds.”

I didn’t really answer as I started to uncap paints, mixing colors on my trusty Styrofoam plate.

“So, you didn’t answer me before. Are you always so cold to your models?”

“I’m not being cold,” I countered. “Trust me, if I were being cold to you, you would know.”

“Oh, I dunno…it feels pretty chilly to me.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” I couldn’t stop the smile that crossed my face. He dropped his mouth open before looking down.

“Goddamn, I am not small!” He retorted. “In fact, this is kind of turning me on. You’re just teasing me.” He looked up and caught my smile. “You are a tease, aren’t you? I see that little smirk on your face.”

“I’m just painting,” I shrugged.

He hummed, tilting his head to the side, “So…tell me about you.”

“About me?” I raised an eyebrow. “There isn’t a whole lot to tell that isn’t readily available on in the internet.”

“But I want to hear it from you,” he pouted, sticking out his bottom lip. I was overcome by the urge to get up and suck on it. I shook my head violently, trying to focus back on the canvas. “C’mon…tell me what it was like growing up with the totally goddess that is Samantha Corner.”

I shrugged, “She’s a Mom. There’s not that much to say.”

“What’s she like?” He insisted.

“She’s nice,” I shrugged. “She annoys the hell out of me sometimes. She’s got kind of a Peter Pan complex, and makes me feel like I have the adult while she’s the kid sometimes.”

“So you take care of her?”

“Sometimes it’s like that. But, she knows when she needs to be my mother and grow up. She writes a lot… You wouldn’t believe how much unpublished stuff she has just…laying around. Her office is filled with notebooks, and her desk is littered with disks. She’s got about four external hard-drives.” I shook my head, glancing up at him. “Writing is her life, everything she lives for. Sometimes she makes me feel like I was kind of an accident, and inconvenience –even if she doesn’t mean to.”

“That’s kind of harsh, isn’t it?”

“I said she doesn’t mean to,” I countered. “I know that she loves me, and probably couldn’t live without me, but until I was old enough to take care of myself, she had a habit of pushing me to a second priority to her deadlines.”

“She doesn’t sound like a very nice person,” Devin shook his head.

“She’s the greatest person,” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t trade my mother for anyone.”

He nodded, scratching his chest. I noticed how smooth he was and I couldn’t help but ask.

“So, why do you shave?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re totally hairless, aside from your head. Why do you shave?”

“That’s kind of a personal question, isn’t it?”

“Well, you’ve already psychoanalyzed my relationship with my mother. I figured it was a fair question.” I raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged, “I shave because my boyfriend liked it.”

“Liked it?” I emphasized the past tense.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We broke up a couple of weeks ago. I just kept it up, I guess.”

“How long did you date for?”

“Two years,” He shrugged. “He cheated on me with some guy on the cheerleading squad –how junior high is that?”

“Maybe you just weren’t flexible enough for him?” I shrugged.

“Oh, I’m plenty flexible. He was just wasn’t versatile enough. I ask him to fuck me just one time, and he gets all nervous.” He rolled his eyes. “He was a fucking pansy. I’m better off without him anyway.”

“Well, you don’t seem bitter at all,” I assured him.

“Cocky bastard,” he looked back at me. “So, as long as we’re getting into it, I just have to know –you ever sleep with a guy before? Or are you really as straight as you want everyone to think that you are?”

“I’m straight,” I nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t slept with guys before.”

“Oh really?” He raised, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, really.” I nodded.

“Tell me more,” he requested.

“I’d rather not. I hardly know you –how do I know you wouldn’t just stick it up on the internet somewhere, outing Samantha Corner’s son.”

“Why would I do something like that? I love your Mom –that’d just piss her off, right?”

“My Mom knows I’m straight.”

“Does she know you’ve slept with boys?”

“I don’t tell my Mom about my sex life,” I shook my head. “Chances are, she’d become too interested and use me for information. You might not know this, but she can’t talk to gay guys. They make her nervous.”

“Why?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Part of it is because she doesn’t want to know what they think of her books –she’s afraid of being very wrong or even very right. The other part of it is…my Mom is really shy. She sees two guys and she becomes a little fan girl. She blushes like crazy and has to walk away as fast as she can.”

“That’s got to be kind of tough.”

“She has all of her fan letters screened. She doesn’t reply personally to letters. She doesn’t do book signings. She lives rather sheltered actually.”

“That’s kind of…depressing.”

“It’s just the way she works,” I shrugged.

We were quiet for a bit before he yawned, “So, how’s the painting coming?”

“Fine,” I nodded. “Do you mind if a take a couple of shots, so I can keep working on it tomorrow morning?”

“Sure,” he nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” took the moment to rinse out my brush and take a quick picture with my camera. I hoped the light wouldn’t shift too much while I worked.

We were quiet for a little longer. I had probably been painting for about two hours when I noticed his eyelids were starting to get a little heavy.

“I’m sorry,” I stood up, stretching my arms. “Do you want to take a break? This can’t be very exciting for you.”

“I’m okay,” he shook his head.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Water, if you have it.”

I nodded, pulling out two bottles of water from the fridge and tossing one in his direction.

“So, do you have a roommate?” He nodded towards the bunked beds, both of which were made. “I see you all over this room, but no evidence of another person.”

“I don’t,” I shook my head. “But I like to keep the other bed made because keeping it bare looks tacky. Plus, you never know when someone will need a place to crash.”

“Someone?” He raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged, “I have friends, really.”

He nodded. “Okay, I get it.” He yawned, stretching his arms out. I tried not to watch the way his muscles contracted when he made the movement, but I couldn’t help it. He looked good, and it had been a long time since I had gotten more then a blow job.

He caught me looking a grin crossed his face. He wasn’t shy at all about running his hand from his crotch up his chest. “You like what you see, straight boy?”

“It’s not bad,” I shrugged, taking a plug from my ice-cold bottle of water. The chill reminded me that this painting was due in two days, and I had better get control of my hormones. I couldn’t help but tease him a little, “I’d like it a little more if you didn’t look like prepubescent.”

“Oooh, that hurts,” he cringed before looking straight back at me. “I just broke up with the guy that liked it a few days ago…it’ll grow back… But I kind of like it smooth,” He was teasing me now, his fingers trailing his balls. “It’s just so easy to touch.”

“Each to their own, I suppose.”

“You can touch it, if you want,” he offered. “I don’t mind.”

“I have a painting to finish. I’d like if it you didn’t get too excited. It’d ruin the picture.”

He hummed, “Are you sure? Maybe taking a little sex break would help. You look so tense behind the canvas… Is it not going well?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just on a deadline.”

“Fucking me might help relieve some stress.”

“You want me to fuck you?” I raised an eyebrow.

“My ex was a hardcore bottom,” He stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “I tried to get him to take me a couple of times, but he wigged out. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a real cock in my ass.” He came closer, ignoring the canvas to press close to me. I was extremely aware of how naked he was. My awareness became his awareness when he grabbed hold of me through my jeans, stroking me with his V’d fingers.

“You sure you’re as straight as you say you are?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I’m pretty straight.”

He leaned forward and kissed me. I thought I might die. A guy had never had that kind of effect on me before. Come to think of it, a girl hadn’t either. But he was different. I just wanted to touch him. I wanted to pull him close and do anything he wanted. I was just flooded with the overwhelming urge to fuck him until he cried for mercy, to kiss him until he could barely breath.

“Not bad,” he pondered.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been around the block a couple of times.”

“So, you’ve been guys before… Top or bottom? Most straight guys are tops. But you don’t strike me as the top-type.”

“I’ve done my share of both,” I shrugged.

“Oh really? And what do you prefer?”

“Women,” I shrugged.

“C’mon,” he didn’t even look down as he started undoing my belt. “I can tell you like me. You wouldn’t be so hard if you didn’t find me attractive.”

“Attractive yes,” I nodded. “But I can control myself.”

“Can you?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you could really control yourself, wouldn’t I be back on that couch already with all that space between us?”

He had a point. I nodded, “Okay, so I don’t have that much control, but I still haven’t just flipped you over the stool and fucked you senseless yet, so…I’m still ahead in that sense.” I managed to get his hands out of my pants, and to push him back towards the couch. “Why don’t you go sit down, so I can continue with my painting?”

He nodded, “Alright.” He didn’t put up much of a fight and sat back down, just as he had been for the previous two and half hours. We didn’t say much for another hour or so. It was starting to get late, and I was having a harder time concentrating on painting instead of my model.

“Alright, I think that’s enough,” I stood up. I kicked my stool towards the closet and turned my easel towards the wall.

“Can I see it so far?” He asked, getting up to start pulling on his clothes.

“I don’t think so,” I shook my head. “When it’s done, I’ll let you see it. I’ve barely even started it.”

He frowned, “Aw, c’mon…”

“Are you a free again tomorrow night?” I asked. “I can work from the picture during the day, but I’d like to keep the flesh-and-blood display for at least another night. I can probably finish it tomorrow night if I work on it all day.”

“Don’t you have classes?”

“Of course I do,” I shrugged.

He nodded, pulling his jeans up over his hips, “And tomorrow night…are you going to be less of a jackass when I come on to you?”

I shook my head, “No. Probably not.”

He sighed, shaking his head, “Then I’ll just have to try harder.” He put his hands against my face to kiss me again. His tongue probed into my mouth, but I tried not to let it surprise me. He was smiling as he backed away, “I’ll see you same time tomorrow?”

I nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be here.”

“I look forward to it then, Patrick Corner.” He patted my cheek. “And who knows, maybe you’ll revise your straight-ways?”

“Maybe,” I shrugged.

The next day, I made sure that I was prepared for Devin’s arrival. I had worked feverishly on the painting all day, but took the time to acquaint my cock with my right hand at least twice before he arrived at seven. I was just packing myself away when he knocked on the door.

“Hey, come in.” I had turned the canvas towards the wall so he couldn’t see it. I had tried not to touch the couch area or lamp that I had been using for lighting. “Could you just stand there for a minute? I need to do your eyes and lips again.”

He closed the door behind him and waited patiently while I pulled out the eyeliner and lipstick from the night before. I tried to ignore how good his skin felt under my fingers when I brushed my thumb over his lips. I stepped back away from him to wipe my hand on a spare towel again. My room was littered with empty paint tubes, Styrofoam plates covered in paint residue, and empty water bottles.

“Ah…sorry about the mess. I don’t clean much when I’m working to finish a project.”

“It’s okay, I hardly noticed it,” he lied through his teeth as he moved towards the couch, taking off his shirt. I turned the canvas back to its place and pulled my brushes out of the mug I was rinsing them in to dry them off on my towel. When he was naked, he sat back down on the couch, resuming his pose from the night before. I put some fresh paint on my plate.

“You can turn on the TV or radio if you want. So we don’t have to sit in such silence.”

“Ah, but Patrick, your silence speaks volumes about you,” He shook his head. “Plus, it’s cute to watch how frustrated you get.”

“I don’t get frustrated,” I shook my head.

“Yes you do,” he shook his head. “But I won’t argue with you about it.” He reached over to pick up the remote, flipping on the TV.

I kept worked at a little more precise of a pace then I had during the day. By eleven o’clock. Devin had shifted and wasn’t really even posing anymore, but it was OK because I was nearly done and just putting in final touches. His eyes were closed and I was pretty sure he was asleep. I stepped back from the painting completely at midnight, deciding if it wasn’t finished by now, it wasn’t ever going to be. Devin’s head had lolled to the side, and he was breathing softly. He had tugged a blanket over his waist. I hated to wake him up when he looked so peaceful, so I let him be.

I turned off the lights and TV and changed in the dark before climbing into bed. I had an eight A.M. class in the morning that I probably shouldn’t skip, no matter how much I wanted to. I turned against the wall, pressing my forehead against the cool brick.

I wasn’t asleep for long when I felt warm arms wrapping around me. At first I was a little startled, but then I realized it could only be one person.

“You know, I have a top bunk for a reason, Devin.”

“I always hated sleeping on the top bunk,” He nipped at my ear. “I had a tendency of falling.

“Then I’ll sleep up top and you can sleep down here. It doesn’t make that big of a difference to me.”

“Or we could just stay, right where we are.” He leaned over me and turned my face towards his so he could kiss me. I could taste the lipstick that still stained his lips. “C’mon, Patrick…it’s just for a couple of hours.”

“I don’t want to sleep with you,” I turned back to the wall, pressing my arm over my face.

“I never said you had to,” Devin shook his head. “I just want to share a bed with you. It’s too late to walk back to my dorm. It’s not safe, you know?” He tried to nudge my arm away from my face and pouted when he wasn’t successful. “Aw, c’mon now…”

“I told you, I don’t want to sleep with you. You can stay here, I don’t care, but I won’t have sex with you.”

“It’s all about sex with you…” he sighed, snuggling down against my back. “But okay. I’ll stop trying so hard.” His arms wrapped around me and he gave a more contented sigh, pressing his face against my shoulder. “Hmm, you feel good.”

I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to ignore him. He had gotten half dressed, which I was thankful for…but at the same time, I was a little disappointed. I couldn’t squelch this feeling of wanting to take him in my hands, in my mouth, and make him moan. I was pretty sure he had a great sounding moan.

“Hmm, you’re getting excited,” his fingertips brushed over my crotch. “I can feel it –your back is all tense too.”

“A warm body is a body, it doesn’t matter what kind of equipment is attached to it.”

“Hmm, so you’re not as straight as you want everyone to think,” he hummed, sucking on my earlobe. “Why is it so important for you not to be gay, Patrick?”

“It’s not,” I shook my head. “I just wish everyone would stop assuming that my Mom made me gay just because of the kinds of books she writes.”

“I don’t think your Mom had anything to do with it,” Devin shrugged. “But I’ll stop teasing you now,” he rolled away from me, taking up the open portion of the bed as he spread out, stretching. “Hmm, I’m tired. Good night, Patrick…”

After that, it’s weird to say it, but we started dating. I kept telling him that our “dates’ were just two friends, hanging out, but he loved to see my blush when he introduced me to his friends as his boyfriend.

“I’m not his boyfriend,” I would correct. “I’m straight.” His friends would laugh at that, like it was some kind of a joke. After awhile, I started to feel like it was kind of a joke too. My whole sexuality was a sham. Devin would get jealous if I looked at girls; he’d hold my hand or even kiss me in publish to make sure that everyone knew that he had dibs on me, like I was a piece of prime choice meat. But I didn’t stop him either. I held his hand, because I liked how soft his skin was. I kissed him because the taste of his mouth, a mix between Colgate™ toothpaste and lemon drops, was totally intoxicating. I also didn’t mind so much when he spent the night, refusing the couch or the top bunk so he could feel me up.

But, we weren’t having sex.

And we kept not having sex for almost three months. It was Devin that snapped. He had cuddled against my chest as we watched a Made-for-TV movie, on one of those channels that specialized in Made-for-TV movies. He started kissing me, which was fine. He started stroking his fingers down my chest, which was fine too. But when he started to unfasten my jeans…that wasn’t fine.

“Hey, c’mon…” I pulled his hands away. “We’re watching a movie.”

“So what? All we ever do is watch movies. I want you –no, I need you to screw me.” He gave me what I supposed was supposed to be a ferocious kind of kiss. “What do you say? Get hot and dirty with me.”

I shook my head, “Devin, don’t be like this.”

“You’re my boyfriend! I want to have sex with you, Patrick! What’s wrong with that?”

“I am not your boyfriend.”

“Then what are we, huh? I think about you every second we’re not together. We go out on dates. We sleep in the same bed. We make out like crazy.” He pressed his forehead to mine, staring into my eyes with those deep pools of his. “What am I to you?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, trying not to get sucked into his look. “I try not to put tags on everything.”

“Patrick,” he groaned, pushing closer. I could feel him, pressing against my thigh. I hoped he couldn’t tell I was just as turned on by our close contact as he was. “Please! If it doesn’t go well, or you really truly don’t like it, I’ll give u. I’ll stop trying. We’ll just be friends.”

“Why do you want to have sex with me so badly?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I can think of lots of reasons,” I shook my head.

He sighed, tugging his fingers through my hair. He gave me a couple of peck-like kisses before he gave me his best pout. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but…I think I love you.”

“You can’t love me,” I shook my head. “You barely know me.”

“I might not know you, but I know how you make me feel…and when you’re not pushing me away and being and ass…” He sighed. “I know I love you.”

“Devin, stop it,” I shook my head, pushing him away so I could get up from the couch.

“Does it bother you because I can say it out loud, or does it bother you because you might feel the same way about me?”

“Devin…” I shook my head. It was cliché, but I had this inner-turmoil thing going on. I wanted really badly to give in to him, to tell him that I loved him too… But was it possible for me to really maintain my straightness if I had a boyfriend?

And I guess, being straight wasn’t a big deal. I’ve never been a fan of tags, but since I realized what my mother’s profession entailed, I always felt like I had to keep up this wall that clearly stated who I was… and Devin made me rethink that wall.

“C’mon,” he was kneeling on the couch, his hands folded neatly in his lap. I could tell he wanted to reach out to me, touch me. And I wanted him to touch me…but if he did, I was more then sure I couldn’t say no to him anymore. “You have to open up to me. I’m gay, feelings are part of my thing. You don’t have to be all manly for me.”

I shook my head, turning away from him. I heard him get up, and he wrapped his arms around me from behind. I closed my eyes when I felt his cheek against my back.

“Look, I know this hard for you…You spend your whole life trying to be straight for reasons I don’t really understand… but, it’s okay. A lot of ‘straight’ guys aren’t as straight as they think they are.”

“It’s not like that. I don’t have a problem being with men.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Part of me really wants to give in to you, I’ll admit it. But there’s still that part that says if I do have sex with you, I can’t say I’m straight anymore.”

“You’ve slept with guys before –you’ve told me that. Why am I different from the other ones?”

“Because I care about you,” I admitted. “If I have sex with you, I can’t deny being your boyfriend. The other guys…they were both stupid mistakes. They used me as a way to fulfill some kind of a fantasy, to get closer to my Mom, to her characters. It only happened once with each of them. I can’t do that with you.”

“You don’t have to…I want to be your boyfriend.”

“You say that now –what about after we have sex?”

“What about it?”

“What if we have sex and it’s not any good?”

“Babe…any sex is good sex,” he laughed. He turned me around to kiss me. “And it’s not up to par…I’ll teach you. I’ll turn you in a certified sex machine,” He promised.

“Devin…”

“Patrick.”

“I can’t just have sex with you.”

“Why not?” He asked. “I’m ready…you’re ready,” he started unbuttoning his jeans. “All we have to do is get naked.”

“I don’t have…you know, stuff.”

“Stuff?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You know…condoms, lube.” I went along with him as he pulled my t-shirt over my head.

He rolled his eyes, “Alright, so…condoms are probably a sensible thing given the times we live in –but I promise, I am totally D-D free. If you really want me too, I can walk to my dorm and get you my last screen report. It’s only a like two months old.”

“I doubt that’s necessary,” I shook my head.

“As for lube…we can make due. Spit works just as a well. Or come.” His lips brushed my bare shoulder. I found my fingers inching under the back of his shirt and it wasn’t long before I had pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor by my own.

“Or we could just go to the gas station down the street and pick some up,” I shrugged.

“Yeah, if you want to stall,” he rolled his eyes.

“Look, I haven’t slept with a guy in…a while.” I stopped him from pushing my jeans and boxers down.

“Good,” he wrapped his arms around my neck, leaving my pants alone. “Forget everything you ever did with those fools. I want a fresh slate…a real virgin to the art. I want to blow your mind.” He pushed me back onto the bed. He grabbed the bottom of my jeans and yanked –hard. I groaned as they were basically torn from my body and tossed to the floor. He pushed off his own before he got on top of me, kissing me.

“Uhh—Devin…”

“Just…trust me a little, okay? You don’t have to do anything. Just …you know, lay there.” He straddled my hips as he kissed me.

I did as he asked, word for word, to the best of my ability. It didn’t take very long until he was impaling himself on me for the first time. He was on top, his hands gripping tightly on my shoulders. I was totally enthralled with the way that his body moved. Even when I had sex with women, I had never paid much attention to anything other than the fact that I was getting some.

“Tell me when you’re going to come,” he requested, taking my hand and putting it down on his stomach. I was mesmerized by the feel of his abdominal muscles tightening and flexing as he thrust over me. His fingers stroked down my chest, and he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “You’re kinda quiet…”

“I’m just soaking it all in.”

He hummed as I wrapped my hand around his member, jerking him off. He had to have felt widely ignored –the only action his cock had been getting was the methodical slap against my stomach. But he was hard as a rock and dripping pre-come, regardless.

“Are you close?” He asked, nuzzling my neck. He groaned as he stretched forward.

“If it…if it hurts, you don’t have to keep going.”

“I like it,” he assured me. “I’m just running a little dry is all…” He kissed me again, swirling his tongue around mine. His mouth opened wide and he gasped, “Ah, fuck...” He tightened up as he emptied in spurts onto my abs. The sight of him was enough to send me off too. I barely had enough time to warn him and slipped me out of him. After I had unloaded on his backside, he pushed me back inside. He rocked forward, kissing me. When he finally slid to my side and laid his head against chest, his breathing was starting to return to normal.

I wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed my chin to the top of his head. He looked up, and I noticed little worry lines across his forehead and at the corners of his eyes.

“What?” I brushed my fingertips over his hair.

“Are…was I okay?”

I smiled, kissing his forehead, “Yeah.”

After that, we had sex all the time. He basically lived in my room with me. He woke me up with blow jobs in the morning, we met periodically between our classes for quickies against the door, and at night we fought for position –except it wasn’t much of a fight since he typically let me win. After another three months of finally giving in to him…it was over.

“What’s wrong?” He caught my arm as I was frantically packing a bag. “What’s going on?”

“Ah, family emergency,” I shrugged off his arm to keep packing.

“Your Mom? What happened? Is she okay?”

“I can’t really talk about it,” I shook my head.

“Well…can I come with? I mean, maybe I can help.”

“Devin,” I stopped. I took his face between my palms and kissed him as hard as I could. “No. I can’t do this right now.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know,” I shook my head.

“Patrick…” He put his hands on my wrists. “It’ll be okay. Relax a little.”

“Devin, no, you don’t understand. I can’t…I might not be coming back.”

“What do you mean? We still have like two months of school left.”

“I know.”

“Patrick, what’s going on?”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry for what? I don’t understand what’s going on. I just came over to see if you wanted lunch.”

I took a deep breath, “Devin, I don’t think I can see you anymore.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion.

“It’s not because I don’t love you, because I do –I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever. But…” I sighed. “My mom is really sick right now.”

“What do you mean sick?”

“She doesn’t want anyone to know,” I shook my head. “I can’t go into it. But, I’m probably not coming back to school. She needs me with her.”

“That doesn’t mean that we can’t still…you know, be together.”

“I’m going back home, Devin. That’s like a two hour plane ride. I can’t do that to you –I can’t put that much space between us and expect to be able to maintain the kind of relationship we’ve had.”

“I can live without sex, Patrick. I’d settle for hearing your voice on the phone. I can come see you over break. We can make it work –people a whole continent apart make relationships work.”

I shook my head, “No.”

“You can’t just say no to me and expect me to just accept it, Patrick. I love you, goddamn it.” He punched me in the chest. I hurt, but not as much as seeing him trying so hard not to cry.

I rubbed my chest, “I know.”

“So you just want me to leave and never see you again?”

“I never said that.”

“That’s what you’re implying.”

“Devin, I’m not doing this because I want to.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because, I feel like I need to.”

“Fuck you,” he punched me the chest again. This one issued a grunt from me.

“You can hit me all you want, I probably deserve it.”

“You’re not even worth it,” he shook his head. He shoved past me and slammed the door behind him. I squeezed my eyes closed and leaned back against it. I let myself think about the last few minutes for a bit before I remembered that I had a plan to catch.

After that, I went home and helped take care of my Mom. And that was part of how I found myself in a New York hotel, sleeping with an actor…

I slipped through the quiet halls of the hotel. I hated that Devin had popped into my head when I was with Josh. I had managed to just shove him to the back of my head since I had left campus. I hadn’t even gone back to campus to pack up my room –I had sent one of my Mom’s assistants to pack up and check out of my room for me…like I had been too much of a pansy to take the chance of seeing him again.

What bothered me most though, was the fact that he hadn’t even tried to call me. Although, I guess I hadn’t exactly tried to call him either… And now, school had just let out two weeks before, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to get a hold of him. Sure, I could e-mail him. I could call his cell phone. I could probably even look up his home address in the campus directory…

I was just pulling my clothes back off to hop into the shower when my phone started to ring. I took the time to answer it.

“Hi, Mom,” I sighed. “—No, I’m fine. It’s just kind of late. What’s going on?” I waited for her reply while I sat down on the couch. Her voice was kind of soft and she said she just wanted to talk. “Mom, you’re in the hospital. You should be getting your sleep.”

“Pssht,” she scoffed. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a kid, Patrick.”

“Ma,” I yawned. “Look, it’s like what? Three in the morning? I’m barely awake.”

“Oh yeah…what are you doing answering your phone? I didn’t really expect you to answer.”

“I just got in.”

“Ooh, fun night out? Who’s the girl? It’s not that snotty bitch they have playing my side-kick female, is it?”

I rolled my eyes, “I had a couple of drinks with the guys.”

“Ooh,” she repeated. “Is my cute little boy finally taking after his mother?”

“Ma!”

“It’s okay, you know I don’t really care –just so long as you don’t introduce me to your boyfriends. You know how I get around the gays… That’s why I sent you to the set in my place. I probably would have passed out with all those boys fawning over me.”

“You’re not full of yourself at all.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll let you sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “G’night Mom. Don’t stay up watching Logo all night –you get some sleep.”

“I will,” she scoffed. “Besides, they’re just showing lesbian shows all night –it’s not as enthralling.”

I laughed, shaking my head before I hung up. I shut my phone off, tossing it down on the coffee table before I got up. The hot water in the shower felt good and I was relieved to finally crawl into bed after making sure that the alarm was set for the next morning.

The next afternoon, I pressed a kiss to Mom’s forehead. She looked pretty good for a woman in a hospital. She was up and moving around, sitting on the end of the bed rather then laying in it.

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’m okay…I’ll be glad to get out of here.”

“When do they think you can leave?”

She shrugged, “Probably a couple of more days. They want to make sure everything is normal.”

I nodded, “Well, you should rest.”

“Tell me about the movie –are they slaughtering it?”

“Ma,” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t know the difference if they did. But it looks like it’s going well.”

“I don’t like that Josh kid…he doesn’t fit my character at all,” she sighed.

I shrugged.

“He’s the one that’s really gay, right? –Make sure he keeps a distance at the premier.”

“You know, you should really get over this phobia of gays. You miss a lot of great opportunities.”

“It’s not like it’s all gays!” She scoffed. “Just the cute ones…”

I shook my head, “You’d like what they’re doing. I was told that, while they can’t be a graphic as you are, they’re doing their best to make it as true to the book as possible.”

“Good,” she nodded.

We both looked up as a spunky looking girl walked in, wearing a pencil skirt and a low cut top.

“Patrick, welcome home!” She came over to kiss me rather bluntly on the lips. “How was New York?”

“Fine,” I nodded. “How have things been going on here, Mattie?”

Mattie was my Mom’s assistant –one of three actually. She was a lesbian with a girlfriend named Amanda. However, she was an avid reader of my Mom’s books before she became an assistant. She had become a close friend over the last couple of years and my Mom really depended on her for stability.

“Good,” she nodded. “Doctors said your Mom can probably go home at the end of the week.”

“That’s great,” I nodded.

“Unfortunately, she’s also on three more medications,” Mattie pulled a brush out from one of the travel bags along the wall and sat behind Mom to start brushing her hair. “But they’re just precautionary for a couple of weeks.”

Mom sighed, “I wish everyone would believe me when I say I’m fine.”

“You’re fine because you’re taking meds,” Mattie shook her head, she paused looking up at me. “Oh yeah…there was a guy who stopped by the house while you were gone. He was looking for you.”

“Looking for me?” I raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “He said he was a friend from school and that he’d come back.”

“Did he say who he was?”

“No,” she shook her head. “He kind of booked it out of there before I could ask.”

“Well, what’d he look like?”

“Umm…tall, dark hair, had motorcycle,” she shrugged. “I dunno. Kinda cute, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

I thought for a moment, but I had no idea who it could possibly be. I had few ‘friends’ while I as in school and most of them that would call themselves my ‘friends’ were girls I used for sexual gratification. I didn’t have anyone that I was close to…

“Whatever,” I shrugged. “I’m not going to worry about it just now.”

“Honey, if you’ve got a friend waiting for you, you should go.”

“Ma, if it’s a friend, they know how to call me,” I rolled my eyes.

She hummed, and picked up the remote for the television, “I was watching Logo last night—”

“Before or after you called me?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Before,” she rolled her eyes. “As was saying, they had this really good movie on, but I missed like the first half of it… What I don’t understand though is, why does everything ‘gay’ have to have this…low budget feel to it? Is it just me or does everything ‘gay’ just feel awkward?”

“Just visuals,” Mattie shrugged. “Your books aren’t awkward.”

“Meh,” Mom scoffed. “I beg to differ.”

Mattie looked to me for help, but I shrugged. “I haven’t read one, so I can’t really argue.”

Mom turned to look at me, “Why is that?”

“Mom, you write gay erotica. First of all, it’s gay erotica. Secondly, you’re my mother!”

“So? Not everything I write is embarrassing.” She rolled her eyes. “A few of my books hardly have any sex in them at all.”

I shook my head, “I don’t really feel like having this conversation, thanks.”

We were quiet for a few minutes. Mattie kept brushing Mom’s hair before braiding it, and Mom was enthralled with a variety show. I watched the two of them and was pretty sure that if my Mom were a lesbian, and Mattie didn’t have a girlfriend, they would make a really cute pair. I jumped when Mom suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth and shouted, “Oh my god!”

“What?” I pressed my hand to my heart, like that would help slow it back down from the jolt.

“I need you to go home and get me the green notebook that’s sitting on my desk –the purple one too.”

“What for?”

“Because I’ve got six stories to finish writing before I die, silly,” she rolled her eyes.

“Mom!”

“Well, I do! I put away the Royal Night story because I was stuck, but I just got a fantastic idea –now hurry up and go get it before I forget what I was thinking!”

“Patrick, just go get it for her,” Mattie shook her head. “Sam, write the idea down so you don’t forget,” she got up and pushed a yellow legal pad and pen into Mom’s hands.

I sighed, getting up and stretching my arms over my head. “Can you write on that for now? I’d kind of like to get some sleep. I had an early flight. I’ll bring your laptop for you too.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Mom dismissed me. I should have felt slighted, but I knew she was just excited to have some creative juices going again. She stopped me before I exited, “Wait –what was Ron’s brother’s name…”

“David?” Mattie guessed.

“No…”

“Derek?”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

Mom talked about her characters like they were her kids –even though I didn’t read her stories, I still knew their characters like they were my siblings. “Devin, wasn’t it?”

“Yes!”

It wasn’t until I was out in my car that the thought struck me about who had appeared at my door step while I was gone.

I was woken up when the doorbell rang downstairs. I was tempted to ignore it, but knowing my luck it was probably something kind of important. I pulled on a clean pair of jeans from my drawer and made my way downstairs. I was just zipping them up when I cracked open the door after another insistent bell toll.

“Yeah?” My eyes were kind of blurry from being sleep deprived.

“Patrick?”

I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to focus before looking up, “Devin…”

“Hi.”

He looked good. Well, better then good. My jeans felt constrictive and I had only just laid eyes on the guy. His hair was different, and he was wearing a light leather jacket and tight jeans. I could see a bright red motorcycle in the drive.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d answer if you saw that it was me,” he shrugged. We were quiet. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say… And I didn’t have anything. All I could think about was pulling him inside and doing him on the entry way carpet.

“You didn’t come back to school.”

“No,” I shook my head.

“Some girl came and packed up all of your stuff…but, she didn’t get your art back from your professors. I managed to talk them into giving it to me. I have it at home if you want it back. I can mail it.”

I shrugged, “It really isn’t that big of a deal.”

He blushed, looking down at the ground. He scuffed the toe of his boot against the concrete step. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here.”

“You should have called me,” I shrugged. “Now isn’t the best time.”

“Your Mom?”

“Mom is fine,” I shrugged. “I just had a really early flight this morning.”

He nodded, “Right. I’m sorry. I’ll just go.”

“No, wait…” I couldn’t stop myself from pulling him back. I felt like electricity was running up my arm as I grabbed his hand. “Come in… Let me get dressed.”

“You’re tired, it’s fine.”

“Devin,” I pulled him closer. “Come in.”

He looked up at me before he nodded, “Okay.”

I closed the door behind us and watched him look around.

“It’s really big.”

I shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Did you guys always live here?”

“No, we moved in here five years ago. Before, we lived in a place across town that was smaller.”

“So…where’s your room?”

“Always straight to the point with you,” I nodded.

He blushed, “I didn’t imply that I wanted—“

“You’re right you didn’t,” I shrugged, walking towards the stairs. “It’s this way.”

He followed behind me, looking at the walls. They were littered with pictures of Mom and me, and people that had come in and out of our lives over the years. There were a couple of award certificates hung up sporadically too –the ones Mom wasn’t totally ashamed of at any rate. Maybe shame wasn’t the right emotion she felt for some of her awards…more like mortification.

“So, this it?” He sat down on my bed, looking around.

“Yeah,” I nodded, pulling on a plain t-shirt from my closet. “It’s not as exciting as the rest of the house. I haven’t used it much lately.”

“I came by earlier… Some girl answered the door.”

“That would have been Mattie, she’s my Mom’s assistant.”

“Ah. She said you were in New York.”

I nodded, “Mom wanted me to check on some things with the new movie.”

He nodded, “Oh. So you were rubbing elbows with the likes of Josh Capernelli and David Chambers, huh?”

“I met them,” I nodded.

“Should I be jealous?”

“Well, we broke up, so…no.”

He nodded, “Right.”

“How long are you I town for?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” he looked totally innocent as he said it. I wanted to take him into my arms and kiss him…but I resisted.

I came over to the bed and stood between his knees, “Why didn’t you call me? I told you I couldn’t be your boyfriend, I never said I didn’t want to talk to you again.”

“It was hard,” he shrugged. “Six months later, I still think about you every single day. I tried dating other guys but…I can’t force myself to feel the same way about them as I do about you.”

“Well, I guess that’s flattering.”

“What about you,” he asked, leaning up. He looped his fingers into my belt loops, looking up at me. “Girlfriend?”

I shook my head, “Haven’t had time for a girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No boyfriends.”

“Fuck buddy?”

“If you’re asking if I had sex, Devin, yes I had sex. I had sex last night if you really need to know.” I tried to ignore that hurt look on his face. I tilted his chin back up to look him in the eye. “But sex with other people didn’t matter. It wasn’t the same as it was with you. It didn’t mean anything.”

“And sex with me did?”

“Of course it did –I love you.” I had to kiss him. It had been so long since I tasted that familiar flavor of his mouth. He bit his lip as I pulled away.

“But you left me, without even explaining anything.”

“I had to,” I shrugged. “It was like, if I stayed and tried to explain everything, I wouldn’t have been able to rationalize with myself why I had to leave.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I told you, my Mom is sick.”

“She has people other than you to take care of her,” he shook his head. “She’d want you to be with someone who makes you happy, Patrick.”

“Devin, it’s not that simple. It’s just been me and my Mom since…forever. I had to be with her.”

“But she’s doing better now, right?”

“For now,” I nodded.

“Are you coming back to school?”

I nodded, “Probably not. I’ll go somewhere closer to home.”

“I want to be with you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I pulled my fingers through his hair, liking the softness of it. I wanted to be with him too, but that would be really hard to explain to everyone… A legitimately straight man who liked nothing better then squeeze a pair of boobs in his hands or watching a feminine mouth work over his cock, was taking a pure thrill out of fucking and being fucked by a very hot specimen of gay manhood… It was bizarre.

“Say something,” he urged. I started to try to kiss him, but he stopped me. “No, I need you to say something to me. What’s happening here?”

“I want to fuck you,” I declared. “I don’t know what we are, where we stand, what the hell we’re doing here…but I know I want to fuck you –only you.”

“Only me, or only me as far as men go?”

“Does it matter? I don’t see any women around.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“You’re the only person I want to have sex with this badly, Devin.” I forced his hands away so I could kiss him. “But…it’s been awhile. I’m not really sure what I’m doing anymore. Last night proved that for me.”

“So you really did have sex last night? You weren’t just saying that to make me jealous?”

I nodded, “I did. It was…okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, it had a lot of build up to it, but…when we actually doing it, the whole time I was just thinking ‘what’s going on’?”

“Who were you with?”

“C’mon, you don’t want to know that.”

“I do,” he nodded.

“No, you don’t. You’ll just get jealous and then you won’t sleep with me.”

“Probably.”

“Fuck me first,” I tempted him. “If you renew my faith in my abilities, I’ll tell you.”

“Hmm…or you could tell me now, and if I’m not made totally jealous, I’ll let you fuck me instead?”

“You got that itch to be on the bottom again, huh?”

“I always have that itch.”

I nodded, “I had a few drinks with the guys from the cast…I went back to the hotel with Josh Capernelli. He was…he was nice, and I thought he was cute. But he wasn’t you.”

“Did you give him that whole ‘I’m straight’ spiel?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

“Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’m not going to get jealous over some Hollywood hack,” he rolled his eyes. “Hell, I’d probably do Josh Capernelli too –he’s got a nice ass.”

I laughed, shaking my head, “So…we’re okay?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” I nodded. I kissed him again, pushing him back into my bed. I got up on the edge of the bed and brought my hands down under his butt to pull him higher on the mattress underneath me. I loved the big queen sized bed –we had much more room to move around then we ever did back in the dorms. I couldn’t get enough of him as I brought my arms around him, pressing close to him. Our arms and legs ended up in a tangle and he pushed over top of me.

“You got supplies?”

“Ah, fuck,” I sighed. “I don’t know –let me check.” I kissed him before pushing him off me again. He watched me cross the room, pulling off my shirt as I started digging through my bed side table. Nothing.

“I’m gonna go look in the bathroom,” I came back to the bed to kiss him again. “Get naked while I’m gone.”

I made my way quickly as I could towards the bathroom. I was lucky enough to come across a bottle of lube that I didn’t remember purchasing, and wasn’t going to ask questions about who else would have bought it and for what purpose. I was just thankful that it was there. I searched a bit more for condoms, but came up empty. I pondered over the thought of raiding Mom’s room, but figured she was probably getting less then I was, so it was pretty unlikely. And besides, the idea of my Mother having condoms and me not, kind of freaked me out.

“I found some lube,” I threw it across the room towards the bed before wiggling out of my jeans. I took my time, edging onto the bed. I was pleased to see that he had listened to me about the ‘get naked’ bit. “I couldn’t come up with any condoms though.”

“Well, I’m still clean,” he shrugged.

“You’re the only guy, well ‘person’ actually, that I’ve ever done it unprotected with in the first place,” I kissed him again.

“Good to know,” he wrapped his arms around my neck, kissing me again. I didn’t want to take my lips away from his. He felt so good up against me. And his hands felt silky smooth as they trailed down my back.

“Hmm, I noticed you stopped shaving,” I grinned, running my palm over his pliant cock.

“Yeah, well, I know you don’t like that bald look… But I couldn’t stop shaving my balls, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” I laughed. I slid down his body to lick him. “It makes it easier to suck on them.”

He groaned, biting his lip, “And you claim you’re straight…”

“I’m only gay when I’m with you,” I swore. I loved the way he felt in my mouth. I loved the little noise he made in the back of his throat as I ran my tongue down his entire length before taking him into my mouth. He reached down to pull gently on my hair. I wanted my mouth to be everywhere, taking him in.

“You feel so good…” He sat up, hugging my shoulders. I looked up and he kissed me. “I missed you so much. You have no idea at all.”

“I think I can imagine,” I admitted. I slid back up to straddle his hips between my knees. “I missed you too.”

“Are you just going to tease me, or are you going to fuck me?” He teased. He opened the bottle of lube with a cracking sound and I moaned, flinching a little as the cool liquid fell along our lengths. His hands wrapped around both of us, rubbing them together and coating our warm pricks with the lube. I closed my eyes, pressing my face into his shoulder. I kissed his neck, sucking his skin between my teeth. He groaned, stroking me harder. I always had a little bit of a weakness for frottage…

“I need you to fuck me,” he hummed. He bit on my ear which incited another groan.

I spun him around, pushing him down over the foot of the bed. He caught himself with his hands as I knelt down behind him, licking his opening. He gasped, and grabbed for the lube, pushing it towards me.

“C’mon…we can do that stuff later. I need you now.”

I hummed, giving his puckered hole a kiss before liberally applying lube to his backside. I stroked my fingers inside of him, making him moan. Unlike in our dorm rooms, neither of us were having any qualms about making noise –there was no one else to hear us. And he moaned so well…

“Fuck me,” he growled, looking at me over his shoulder.

I wiped my lubricated hand on the bedspread before positioning myself behind him. I slid in with surprising ease and he moaned even louder.

“Ahh, you feel so good…” He put his hands on my hips and slowly straightened so we were standing front-to-back. His hands came up and stroked my face. My skin prickled as his fingertips brushed the start of my five o’clock shadow. My arms wrapped around his waist and I just pushed softly into him. “How did I go so long without you?”

“I don’t know,” I kissed his neck. I turned his face to kiss him before forcing my tongue into his mouth. His tongue dueled with mine for a few moments before he sighed contentedly.

“Okay, you need to move,” he grinned, leaning back against me. His arms wrapped around the back of my neck and I started to thrust into him. “Ahh, faster then that. I’m not made of porcline.”

“Really? ‘Cause you’re kind of pale and fragile looking,” I teased.

“Fuck me as hard as you can,” he requested.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I rolled my eyes. “Besides, it’s kind of hard when we’re standing.”

“Then I’ll do it,” he moved his hips forward and then thrust back. The jerk made me tip just a little and I grabbed his hips again to stay steady.

“Lean back down and I’ll do it,” I kissed his cheek. “And then I’ll flip you over and it do it that way…and then we can do it on our sides…and any other which-way you want.”

He grinned, biting his tongue between his teeth. He looked so damn cute. I had the fleeting thought of maybe not being able to be able to hold on in this position long enough to try anything else... He obeyed me quietly though, leaning up on his arms and wiggling his butt at me. I wiped my hands off again before grabbing his hips. I started out slow, like I had been, but a disgruntled noise from his throat made me move a little faster.

“C’mon Patrick…” he moaned. “Really pound into me…”

“Since when are you such a masochist?”

“I’m not,” he sighed. “I just really need to feel that you’re right here with me…”

“And you don’t feel like that now?” I leaned forward to kiss his back before I nodded. “Okay…but if I hurt you, you tell me! Don’t hold it in –I don’t want you bleeding or anything.”

He nodded, “Okay.”

It took me a few seconds to stamp down my apprehension, but I did and it wasn’t a whole lot longer before I was pounding into him as hard and fast as I could. I listened to his moaning and groaning for notes of distress, but never heard any “no” or “stop”, so I kept going.

“Ah-ah—ah…” he panted loudly. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

I grinned, “You have such a dirty mouth.” I paused to push him further up onto the bed. I knelt down behind him and pressed my palms into the bed on either side of him. Laying over top of him, I couldn’t push quite as deep, but that was OK. I bucked my hips against him, and he panted some more.

“I think I’m gonna come!”

“I haven’t even touched you!”

“Then flip me over and do it!”

I stepped away from him just long enough to do as he said. He grabbed a pillow to shove under his hips, and I pushed back into him. He tipped his head back, moaning. I kissed his wrists as his hands pressed onto my shoulders. I kissed him roughly, wrapping a hand around him. He let out a cry—a mixture of excitement and arousal. I kissed his chin and then his throat –the source of all those great noises he was making.

He arched forward as he came, wrapping his arms around my waist. He tightened around me, and I lost myself too when I looked at that pure look on his face. He gasped, laying back, still kind of twitching. I groaned, letting him take over stroking himself while I pulled out, stroking myself. A few last spurts landed on his chest, but mostly I had came inside of him.

“Sorry,” I apologized. I stretched out over top of him, kissing him softly on the forehead. “I would have pulled out, but…you look so fucking sexy and sweet when you orgasm.”

He grinned, “It’s okay…it feels good…kind of dirty.”

“You are dirty,” I kissed him again. Even though we had both just been totally emptied, I was already feeling kind of excited again. I slid off to his side, nuzzling his cheek. I couldn’t help but reach down between his legs and stroke a finger inside of his still-loose hole. He moaned, turning to kiss me roughly.

“You’re gonna make me hard again...”

“Ahh, I think we’re done for at least another couple of hours,” I groaned. “But if you can get me up again, I’ll fuck you.”

He sighed, turning onto his side and pulled me close. He moaned at the adjustment, my fingers still probing inside of him. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and kissed me.

“Patrick?”

“Devin.”

“Will you promise me something?”

“Is this the sex talking?”

“No,” he hit me in the shoulder. “I’m being serious.”

I nodded, “Okay, what’s up?”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me like that again.” He shook his head. “I mean, if it comes down to it, you can leave me of course, but…next time, give me some closure, okay? Don’t just…leave without explaining anything.”

“I don’t plan on leaving you, ever.” I wrapped my arms around him, pressing face into his neck. It took him a second, but his arms wrapped around me too. He felt so good in my arms –better than any girl I’d ever had sex with, and much better than any guy. I suddenly felt kind of sleepy.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, Patrick?” He stroked his fingertips through my hair. I nodded, releasing a sigh. “Go to sleep then.” He kissed my cheek.

“You gonna stay here with me?” I asked.

He nodded, “I told you before, I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

I nodded, “Okay.”

I felt his arms tighten around me. For the first time in awhile, I felt safe in someone else’s arms as I fell asleep.

Later That Night

Note: This is derived from a Version 4, Part F of Life Through Lenses (unposted as of yet). But I really liked it, so I decided to share.

Later That Night

“You sure you don’t want a ride home, Martin?” Ben had his hand placed possessively around Riley’s waist as they tried to coax Martin into a ride home. I’m sure they had some devious plans to get him into a provocative situation…from what I gathered, they were good at that sort of thing.

Martin shook his head, “No, no…I’ll walk.”

“Don’t be stupid,” I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll take you home when you’re ready.” I looked up at Riley and Ben, silently pleading. “We’re just gonna talk. You guys can go home. I know we’ve all got homework to get done.”

“Okay, whatever,” Ben shrugged. His hand dipped into Riley’s front pocket and he kissed his temple. “Let’s get outta here then.”

“See you tomorrow,” Riley waved as they descended back up the steps.

“So…” I sat down on the edge of the coffee table, looking at Martin. He looked so cute and awkward. His jeans were a little loose, and his t-shirt was a little baggy. He had on a zip-up jacket that was about one size too big. His skin was a light tan color, like it had been awhile since he’d just been out in the sun for fun. His hair was a little messy, like he scrunched it in his fists when he was frustrated or something. “Do you want to talk more…or did you just want to go home? I don’t blame you for not accepting their ride. I know they can be a little…well…Ben-N-Riley.”

Martin shrugged, “I-I don’t mind staying…I mean, if you have homework, I can go, but…it’s not like I have anyone waiting for me at home.”

“What about your parents? Siblings?” I asked.

He shrugged, “My Dad died. My Mom goes out a lot, lets me fend for myself. I’m an only child.”

“Ah,” I nodded. “Finally, I know something about the mysterious Martin.”

He smiled softly, shaking his head, “I’m not that mysterious. I’m just quiet.”

“Why is that?”

“Just painfully shy.”

I got up, crossing the room. I hesitated for just a second before I ran my fingers through his hair, “So, is your hair like this all of the time, or do you put something in it to make it look like you’re frazzled all of the time?”

“I use a gel,” He admitted. “But I can never get it to go the way I want it, so I don’t know why I bother.”

“It’s cute,” I smiled. I wished that I had asked Ben and Riley for more pointers. I had the feeling that if I went with my gut on all of this, I would find myself knocked out on the floor, nursing a bloody nose or something…but I also figured that if I didn’t do something…we would never progress past a safe-friend zone.

“What are you doing?” He looked kind of worried as I let my fingers tug on the ends of his hair, making it spike up.

“Just playing with your hair,” I shrugged.

“You’re gonna get your hands all sticky,” He ducked his head away from my hands.

I shrugged, “Big deal. I’ve got a sink. I might even have some soap.”

“…Maybe I should go home,” He started to stand, and my fight-or-flight mechanism started to kick in.

“No!” I put a hand on his shoulder. “…You can’t yet. I mean…well, maybe I can help you out. I mean, you’re in a couple of classes that I took last year, so you know…if you need anything…”

He shrugged, “I’m actually doing okay.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause, I’d love to help you out.”

“No, really. I’m fine.”

“Because, I’m really just looking for a reason to get you to stay here,” I admitted. “Even if you don’t need the help, you could stay and do your homework here…maybe stay the night?”

“Stay the night?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “We can have like a sleep over… If you want, you can sleep down here on one of the couches –or I can sleep on one of the couches and you can sleep in my room…on my bed.”

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to suggest that we’re both adults here who can share a bed? That this is platonic, except it’s going to turn out that it isn’t and we’re going to end up fucking?” Martin asked. His bluntness surprised me.

I shook my head, “No, no of course not. I mean, have you seen my bed?” I gave a nervous laugh. “It’s really not made for two. I’m obviously not the slickest guy in town…I really should upgrade my mattress.”

He shook his head, “I’m sorry, that was…defensive. I’d like to stay.”

I smiled, “Okay. Awesome. Why don’t you grab your bag, and I’ll go get us some chips or something from the kitchen while I grab my stuff, and we can work down here?”

He nodded, “Okay.” He grabbed his backpack from the corner by the stairs while I jogged up the steps, trying to hold back my furious red face that was creepy up my neck.

“You look thrilled.” My Dad was just coming out of the living room as I leaned back against the door. “Your friends still here?”

“Just one of them,” I tried to calm down my face. “Is it okay if he stays the night?”

Dad shrugged, “Sure, I guess… This wouldn’t happen to be the one who was with you when Ben and Riley were up here, is it? Although, I can’t imagine the two of them parting ways for an evening, so…it’s silly of me to ask, right?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Lets put it this way, Son. Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged, “Not particularly, no.” I knew I should probably be nervous…that I should probably just come clean with my Dad and tell him that I was having feelings for another boy. …My Dad had always been there for me, and I knew I could count on him to understand me, and what I was going through. He wasn’t judgmental, and I didn’t expect him to really say anything if I did tell him. But, I also felt like if I told him, then it would be permanent. And I wasn’t even sure how this thing with Martin was going to pan out. I just wanted to see how this shaped together before I committed to telling my dad I might be gay, or at least bi.

“Then okay,” He nodded, not pressing the issue. “Have fun. Don’t stay up too late, it’s a school night.”

“Of course not,” I shook my head. He nodded at me, his own personal way of saying ‘I love you, don’t get into trouble’ before exiting for the upstairs.

When I got downstairs, Martin was already laying on his stomach with a pillow tucked under him, with his history text book open in front of him. He had a pen tucked behind his ear, a pencil clenched between his teeth, and a highlighter in his hand.

“You are a serious studier, aren’t you?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

He looked up at me, opening his mouth to drop the pencil, and he plucked the pen from behind his ear, tossing it aside, “Oh, well…I like to be prepared, you know?”

“Right,” I nodded.

“No, really…the pen is for personal notes, the pencil is for book notes, in the margin so they can be erased, and the highlighter, is…well, for high lighting. I’m kind of…OCD, I guess. I like to keep things organized and neat.”

“So…” I sat down in front of him, picking up the pen. “If I…just kind of…” I pressed the tip against the corner of the page.

“Please don’t mark my text book…I tried really hard to get a non-shitty book when they were handed out, and this one is like almost new.”

I smiled, putting the pen back down, “You are a little OCD, aren’t you?”

“Well…when my Dad died, my Mom…went off the deep end a little bit. In fact, I’m not sure she’s even back in the shallow end yet, much less out of the pool. While she started sleeping around, I started cleaning, and organizing. My mom probably doesn’t know this, but when she’s not at home, I alphabetize the things in her room –like her books. First by author, then by title, then by date, then by character names, then by color…” He took a deep breath. “By publisher, by the number of times I know she’s read them.” He sighed, “And when I’ve organized them those seven ways, I do the list over again. So far, I’ve rearranged her bookshelves twenty-seven times –between those, I’ve rearranged her CD collection, her videos, even her magazines, by similar lists.”

“What about your stuff?” I asked. “Do you go all obsessive-compulsive over your collections?”

He shrugged, “I pretty much have my room the way that I want it. My books are in alphabetical order by title, my CDs are in order by band, and my movies are in order by the number of times I’ve watched them.”

“What movie have you watched the most?”

He turned crimson, and I was suddenly keyed into why Ben and Riley found the action so attractive. He really was painfully shy and oblivious. “I’m pretty sure it’s Beauty and the Beast.”

“Beauty and the Beast?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, the Disney version,” he shrugged. “I don’t watch a lot of movies lately. It was one of the first films I ever saw as a kid. My dad took me when it first came out into the theater, even though it was a romantic fairytale.” He smiled softly, “My Dad liked fairytales. He was especially fond of Hans Christian Anderson. He hated the Little Mermaid, because in the real story, the mermaid dies at the end. And in the Disney version, everyone has to end up happy of course, so she ends up with her prince, instead of dying for him.” I watched little smile on his face turn downwards, “That was a long time ago…but now, when I think about my Dad, I watch that movie. So…I’ve probably seen it a hundred times. I watched it a lot after he died.”

“How’d he die?” I asked. “I mean, not to pry, I’m just curious.”

Martin shrugged, “It’s not a big deal. You have every right to be curious... One minute, he was complaining about the headache of a lifetime at our annual Christmas party and the next I found myself sitting in a hospital waiting room, hearing that my Dad was dead because of an aneurism in his brain that no one knew that he had.” He looked up at me, and I wasn’t sure how to read his expression. Like…a lost puppy or something. His eyes were hurt, like there was something more to the story that he wasn’t ready to share yet.

“Are you okay? We can stop talking about it if you want…”

“No,” he shook his head. “I suppose I have to talk about it at some point. I’m sure if I went to a therapist, they would be telling me that I need to talk about it. That my family problems need to be brought out into the light, and I should be discussing them to see what the real root of all of my personal and social anxieties are.”

“Martin, really,” I shook my head. “We can stop.”

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean too, I was just going off on a rant. You can ignore me,” He shook his head, looking back down at his book. I watched him for a moment before I sat up on my knees.

“Martin.”

He looked up, “Nick.”

“I want to kiss you,” I admitted. “But, I don’t know if I should, you know, ask for permission or something…I mean, they always say in the movies and stuff that you should just do it, but is that something that they just say in movies? And if I’m not supposed to ask, I feel that I should at least give you a fair warning, since this is neither solicited nor enticed.” I watched him close his text book and bring himself up to my level.

“Is that all you want?” He asked. “Just to kiss me?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I’m ready to admit that I am more then willing to try many different things with you, a few of which probably require us to get naked…but I’d like to start with a kiss.”

“Would you,” He nodded.

“I would.”

“Then why are you just talking about it?” He pondered. “If you want to, why—“ I cut him off, pulling him across our pile of books and into my lap. His lips were tightly closed but after a moment, when the initial shock had subsided, his lips became less tense, and (dare I say?) he even kissed me back a little bit. It was like a fever had taken a hold of me. He slid back into his spot on top of his pillow, and I couldn’t help but feel like I wanted more. I stared at him, my hands itching to explore underneath the hem of his t-shirt; itching to unbutton his jeans and coax him into a raging hard-on.

“…Okay,” He nodded.

“Okay,” I nodded. My itchings would have to wait, I thought. I mean, what was I thinking? Accosting this guy in my basement… I had promised him we could be friends first, and see what happened from there. Never had I said that I was going to molest him on the same night we finally saw level ground… I was shaken from my thoughts as he pushed me back onto the floor.

“Martin,” I raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” he shook his head. “If you stop me now, I’m going to run from his house so fast…but, if you just bare with me for awhile. I might be okay.” His fingers flexed into the carpet and his mouth found mine again. I couldn’t help but smile against his lips, and I wrapped an arm around his waist. My lips were tugging my brain to focus on kissing him back, but the rest of my body was on red alert as his fingers started to trail my chest, and my groin was at full alert as his own impending hard-on brushed mine through our jeans. Never before in my entire life had I ever wanted to be naked so badly as I did when his hand slipped between my legs between kisses to stroke along the outline of my cock.

We just kissed for what seemed like a really long time. Our fingers felt each other through our clothes, but for me at least it wasn’t enough. I wanted to know what his skin felt like under my fingers. I wanted to know what it tasted like.

“Martin…” I pulled my lips from his, pressing them against his neck. “I want to…well, I want to step this up, and if you’re not ready, that’s cool with me. You just gotta slide back across your text book, and put that pencil back into your mouth, and we’ll pretend that we never lost our inhibitions….but if you’re game, I really…really, would like to do something more then kissing.”

“Like…more-more?”

“Some where between more and more-more,” I smiled. “I don’t, I mean I’m not ready to have sex with you, just yet. But, I do want to…you know. Go somewhere close.”

“Like what?” He asked. “Hand-job…blow job…frot? Dock?”

“What? You’re speaking Greek all of a sudden.”

“You don’t know what…frottage or docking is?” He furrowed his eyebrow. “Oh man…I just became a really big pervert, didn’t I?” He moved away.

“No, of course not! Just because I don’t know what something is...” I shrugged. “I’ll admit, I’m a little behind on…stuff.”

He shook his head, “Frotting is when you, well…rub your penises together. From what I gather it feels really good. Mess is minimal, unless you like messes. “

“And, what was it? Docking?” I couldn’t help but raise a quizzical eyebrow.

“Docking you can only do if… at least one of you is uncut. Like me,” he shrugged. “It’s when, you put the head of the penis under the foreskin of the other. If both partners are uncut, you can actually like…over lap it. Where, one pulls back to penetrate, and then pulls overtop of the other. Apparently it, also, feels really fantastic. It’s kind of, well, dangerous though, since you can’t really wear a condom or anything when you do it. Well, I suppose you could, but I’ve never seen it done that way. Porn shops and stuff actually sell like…a fake tube thing so that cut guys can simulate it too. However, sadly, I have never personally tried any of these things because I am…I am a flaming virgin who spends too much time on the internet watching amateur porn.” He shrugged, not making eye contact with me, like he had just told me something completely mortifying.

“You’re uncut?” My interest was piqued, and everything else he had just said kind of went in one ear and out the other.

He nodded, “Yeah. I am. A lot of people –girls, think it’s weird.”

“That’s stupid,” I shook my head. “I always wondered what it would be like if my parents hadn’t decided to snip it off of me. I mean, it’s really a decision that should be made by the kid later in life, right?”

“I would think so, but parents…what are you gonna do?”

I smiled, “You’re really a virgin?”

“Are you?” He raised an eyebrow, finally stealing a look my direction.

“I’ve had girlfriends,” I shrugged. “But I’ve never done anything with a boy before. So, I’m a gay virgin, but…not totally.”

“Well, then you’ve got one up on me,” he shrugged. “But…I think we should finish studying before we do anything else.” He gave me a brief smile before he slid back across his books. “Okay?”

I nodded, “Right. Studying.” I was pretty sure that I was flushing colors that would rival Martin’s best blushes. I felt really warm, like my body was overheating with all of the sexual frustration that was building up inside of me. Martin looked okay though. He brushed his hair out of his face, settling back down in front of his text book. I turned away from him to focus on my own books, to kind of remove the temptation that he was creating. We worked quietly for awhile, trying to ignore each other’s presence while we worked. I was relieved when he closed his text book and started packing them away.

“You done?” I asked. Stupid question, I chided myself.

“Yeah, for now. The rest will give me something to do in homeroom and study hall tomorrow. How about you?” He asked, zipping up his bag.

I looked at my Chemistry text and suddenly didn’t really care anymore, “You know…I’m done too.” I tossed the book up onto the chair, “I’ll do it later. It doesn’t really matter.”

Martin rolled his eyes, “You shouldn’t just blow off your school work like that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I shrugged. “I can think of plenty of things, just as worthwhile, to do.” I pushed my bag out of the way. “Plus, I’m curious to know what else you’ve picked up from the porn industry.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you know…you could just watch it yourself,” He shrugged. He looked nervous as I moved across the floor towards him, pressing my palms into the carpet on either side of him. I pressed my lips to his cheek. Then his jaw. Then finally to his lips. A few moments later, we found ourselves on the floor. Martin had a leg wrapped around my hips and my hands were skirting under the front of his shirt. I traced out the shape of his abs, and my thumbs brushed over his nipples. I felt him twitch underneath me and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe we were…moving a little quickly. But, isn’t that what guys our age did? Moved quickly?

“Umm,” Martin pressed his palms to my chest. “Wait a second, you should know something.”

“What?” I asked. My eyes searched his face for a clue as to what he was going to tell me. I half expected him to tell me that he was…I don’t know, diseased, or had a coke habit. I wasn’t sure. He had already told me that he was a virgin, but I had assured him that I didn’t want to have sex with him tonight.

“When I said I was a virgin…I mean, that I’ve never really done…this before,” He shrugged. “I mean, I’ve never had a girlfriend, much less a boyfriend. In Morgan, I was kind of a loner. I…I want a real relationship the first time I mess around, you know what I mean? If that’s not what you want, I understand. I’m okay with that. I’m…used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“Not getting what I want.”

I smiled, shaking my head, “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“N-no…sort of.”

I leaned down, kissing him. My fingers tugged through his hair, and my thumbs pressed against the little spot behind his ears as I tilted his face up towards mine. After a few moments of soft, disturbingly tender kissing, I pulled away, “I’d love to be your boyfriend.” The corniness of the entire situation I found us in stabbed into my stomach, but I couldn’t help but feel kind of happy too.

He nodded, “Okay.”

“So…” I looked down, my fingers beginning to trail up his stomach again. “I take this to mean that, you want me to stop?” His t-shirt got pushed up over his stomach, and I thought it was cute how white his stomach was compared to the light brown of his arms and face.

“M-maybe,” He looked down past my face to watch my fingers trace the little smattering of a treasure trail he had going on. “I mean, you don’t have to stop, I just, I don’t think ‘normal’ couples do this kind of thing the first night they get together, you know?”

“Who says we have to be normal?”

“I want to be normal,” He shrugged.

I nodded, and stood up from the floor. I held out my hand to him, “Okay. Well, it’s getting to be kind of late. Do you want my bed or the couch?”

“Oh…” He took my hand, letting me up him up from the floor. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Unless you really do want to share,” I raised an eyebrow. “The couch folds out. Plenty of room for two, if you’d prefer…and I’ve probably got some clothes upstairs you can borrow for the night. –Do you need to call home?”

He shook his head, “No, I doubt my Mom will notice…. I would appreciate a shower though. It’s not good to sleep with this crap in my hair.” He tugged on a curled tendril, coated in product.

“Sure,” I nodded. I took his hand in mine, tugging him towards the stairs. “It’s this way.”

I led him towards the bathroom and pointed him in the direction of a fresh towel before I escaped to my room for a bit. I left him a change of clothes, which I hoped wouldn’t be too big on him, on top of the sink once I was sure that he’d be in the shower. I had this uncontrollable urge to strip and join him, but I figured that would be a little too much. I told him to join me back downstairs when he was done, and I went to change myself. I had just unfolded the couch, and was pulling some extra blankets from the cupboard under the stairs when I heard the door open and tentative footsteps came down the steps.

“Hey,” I looked up at him while I unfolded a thicker fleece blanket over the thin one that graced the mattress while it was folded up. “If you want, you can grab an extra pillow. I know these throw ones aren’t that comfortable. They’re in the closet,” I nodded my head in the general direction of the space under the staircase.

He nodded, moving around behind me to grab a couple of extra pillows. I laid another blanket across the foot of the bed before moving to turn the TV on.

“I hope you don’t mind, I like some background noise while I fall asleep,” I explained. I moved to flip off the lights, except for the lights on the stairs. “Oh, yeah, I hope you’re OK with the safety lights. I can’t really turn them off.” I walked back to the pull-out and crawled between the sheets.

“They’re fine,” He came around to the other side of the bed, tossing down the pillows. I watched him tug on the bottom of his shirt before he slipped into the other side of the bed. It felt like there was this huge space between us that I wanted to get rid of. I turned away from him for a second to turn on the Sleep on the Television for twenty minutes, and set the alarm to wake us up at seven o’clock. I tossed the remote onto the floor, and shifted down under the covers, turning onto my side to face Martin.

“Comfortable?” I asked.

“I guess,” He nodded. He certainly didn’t look comfortable. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. First he folded them against his chest, then he let them lay at his sides. Finally, he tucked them under the covers, shifting just a little onto his side.

“Are you…okay? If you’re not, I can go upstairs.”

He shifted his eyes over, “No, it’s fine.” He shifted further onto his side, “It’s kind of creepy down here with all the lights off and stuff, you know?”

I smiled, “Creepy?”

“Yeah, I mean, it is a basement.”

“You don’t like basements?”

He shrugged, “They’ve never really been my favorite places.”

I nodded and I shifted closer, putting a hand on his hip, “Well, I can assure you that my basement is not creepy. There are no creaks, no squeaks, no spiders, or rats. It is more of a rec room, then a basement.” I tilted his chin up just a little and pressed my mouth to his. I felt him, more then I heard him, groan a little in my mouth. After a few minutes, he pulled away, pressing the back of his hand to his reddened lips.

“Maybe we should go to sleep?”

“Oh yeah, sure,” I nodded. I shifted back to my side of the bed. After I had closed my eyes, I felt Martin shift closer to me and hesitantly wrap his arms around my waist. His head lay against my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but smile, and lift my hand to pull my fingers through his damp hair. By the time the TV flicked off, he had relaxed against me, and was breathing softly against my t-shirt. My fingers continued to pull lazily through his hair as I thought, all in all…tonight had been a pretty damn good night.

Spartans, Part 6

This popped into my head last night. Not sure if I'll continue on with it, or go a different direction that I've also been working on. Most likely, I'll mold the two together some how... Not smut, I swear!

Note: Arwan speaks “broken” Greek with the shop keeper, and Xander.

Spartans

The city was quiet, which in itself was kind of unusual. Training was going on in another part of town, but even the mid-morning market was particularly stoic. Arwan glanced around, almost nervous. No one had died…War wasn’t upon them. Why was it all so quiet?

“What’s the matter, dear?” The woman at the fruit stand caught his shifting look.

“Why so quiet?” Arwan asked. “No one die, right?”

She laughed, “No, no…just a quiet day, I guess. My husband may have said something about seeing some riders heading towards town, but it’s not like that would bring us any trouble. We are in Sparta, after all.” She laughed again, rather jovially.

Arwan nodded, continuing to fill his basket with fruit. He paid her with a few shinny coins, and went on his way. He wasn’t surprised to run into Helen who was sprinting away from home –obviously in some kind of a hurry.

“Arwan!” She grinned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, spinning him around with her as she slowed down from her run. “You’re just who I’ve been looking for!”

“Oh?” Arwan raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Just so you know…there are riders coming towards town. They’re, well, they’re Persians. They’re nearly here. Sirius may be worried about you knowing them. He’ll want to see you before they get here.”

“Persia is a big place, Helen. I doubt that they are here for me,” Arwan shook his head. “But I have to go find your brother anyway. Even though the big doofus still isn’t talking to me.”

“He’ll get over it,” Helen shrugged. She hugged him again. “I best be off.” She kissed his cheek before continuing on her sprint.

Arwan continued with his morning shopping. The air was still eerily still, and it was making him uncomfortable. He did his morning routine as quickly as he could so he could go find Sirius and clear up and misconceptions they might have had.

“Oh, come to apologize have you?” Sirius looked up from where he was examining a broken sword hilt in the training encampment.

“No,” Arwan shook his head. “Helen told me there were Persian riders coming towards the city. She thought you might be concerned.”

Sirius looked up, raising an eyebrow, “Persian riders?”

“Yes.”

“Would they be here looking for you?” Sirius said the thing that was on everyone within earshot’s mind.

“I don’t think so,” Arwan shook his head. “As far as anyone knows, I’m dead. You well know I was the only survivor of that fight.”

“True enough,” Sirius nodded. “But that doesn’t mean there weren’t others. You hid pretty well, Arwan.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

Sirius shook his head, “If they’re here looking for you, they’ll have to come see me first. We’ll see what they want before we do anything about them.”

Arwan nodded. He paused for a moment to see if Sirius had anything more to say before turning to go. Sirius glanced up at his retreating figure, wanting to say more, but kept his mouth shut.

The group of four riders entered the town by mid-afternoon. They looked out of place, and obviously a little nervous. Sparta had its reputation for not being very open to visitors, which was true in a way. But Persian visitors had even more reason to be uncomfortable. Over five years ago, when their army had been desecrated by the Spartans. Since then, tension had remained high. The Persians recognized the Spartans as being more powerful, better organized, and unsympathetic. The Spartans had found the Persians to be sluggish, cowardly, and all-around low. It was easiest to say they didn’t get along together very well.

“What’s your business here?” The Ephors, the council of the King, were waiting to greet their visitors.

“I’m looking for my brother,” The sleek voice was surprisingly fluent. “I was told he might be here.”

“Oh really?” Xander, a very tall and regal looking man in his mid-thirties, spoke up. “And whom might your brother be?”

“His name is Arwan. He was in a battle against you five years ago. He never came home. But his body was never found either. The few survivors that made it back alive,” he spat, “said he was captured.”

“And even if your brother is here…what is your business with him.”

“Our parents have died. As well as our sister. He’s in for a large sum of money, as well as some land. I thought it would be appropriate for him to claim his inheritance, if he is still alive.”

The ephors turned to murmur together before Xander against addressed the newcomer, “Your brother is here, but we do not have the rights to allow you to him. You will have to seek out the warrior Sirius. He will be in the training barracks –but you cannot go there unaccompanied. Please, leave your horses to be fed and watered, and I will escort you to him. He will decide if you may see your brother.”

The men slid from their horses, and the bright-eyed Persian that had spoken, wasn’t shy about asking questions. “Who is this Sirius?”

“He is your brother’s master,” Xander explained. “Sirius saved him –Arwan will be the first to admit that.” He slid his eyes over to the strange man that walked beside him. “What is your name, Stranger?”

“My apologizes –I didn’t realize I hadn’t introduced myself,” The stranger shook his head. “I am Bast –my company is Atish, Cyrus, and Milad.” He introduced the bodies behind him, “I’m sorry –they don’t speak Greek. They simply came along for company, I’m afraid.”

“That’s alright. Your brother doesn’t really speak that much Greek either, but we’ve put up with him over the years.”

The walk was a short one. Sirius was surprised as the large group of foreigners, headed by Xander, that was headed towards him. He raised an eyebrow as they approached, setting aside the belt he had been working on repairing.

“What’s all this about, Xander?”

“This man,” he nodded towards Bast, “claims to be Arwan’s brother, Bast. He wishes to see him.”

Sirius tried not to show the panic that rose in his chest, on his face, “Oh really?”

“Yes,” Bast spoke for himself. “I realize my brother is a prisoner—“

“Your brother is not a prisoner,” Sirius stood up. “You know nothing of the life your brother has. You must be a younger brother, aren’t you?”

Bast looked taken aback, “Y-yes. But what does that have to do with anything?”

Sirius stepped closer, stabbing Bast in the chest with his finger, poking him backwards, “Your brother has never been my prisoner. I saved him from being killed by blood-thirsty soldiers from my own army. He is my servant, yes; my slave, yes; but never my prisoner.”

“Is there truly a difference?” Bast was not moved by Sirius’s speech. He turned his head away, ready, as Sirius lifted his hand to slap him. But Sirius stopped, shaking his head.

“You’re not worth the trouble,” he shook his head. “You can see Arwan if he has want to see you. But don’t cause any trouble. I will have no second thoughts about running you through.” Sirius’s hand went to the hilt of his sword on his hip for demonstration. “Xander –Arwan should be at home. You can take these visitors there… Keep an eye on them.”

“Of course, Sirius,” Xander nodded. “—Would you come this way then, please?”

Sirius watched their retreating forms. For the first time, he feel worry and fear creeping up into his chest. Two things that he hadn’t felt since he was a child.

“Xander?” Arwan opened the door to him. “Is Sirius all right?” A visit from a member of the Ephors was almost never good news. He looked up past Xander, into the faces of the Persians. His eyes widened and a grin opened on his face. “Bast!” He slipped through the door to hug his brother.

“I take it that he’ll see you,” Xander nodded. “Arwan –perhaps we could take this inside?”

“Ah, yes,” Arwan nodded, ushering them inside. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to find you,” Bast took a chair in the sitting area of the room that Arwan led them into. “ I have some sad news for you.”

“Oh?”

“Mother and Father passed away almost a year ago. Sareh too.”

Arwan nodded, “Ah. I understand.”

“Then you understand that you’re coming into a large amount of their fortune, as well as a large piece of land. You are the oldest son, Arwan.”

Arwan shook his head, “My life is here now, Bast. I can’t go home. Even if I wanted to, Sirius would never let me.”

“How do you know, have you ever asked?”

“Why would I leave this place?” Arwan countered. “I have a life here now.”

“You’re a slave, what kind of life is that?”

“It’s my life,” Arwan shrugged. “Did you ever to stop to think that I may enjoy it? There have been many perks to being Sirius’s servant. I live in this house almost all alone, I get to go out of my own accord, I have friends. I have duties. I have a purpose.”

“You’re a wife,” Bast spat.

“Maybe I am,” Arwan shrugged. “Even if I am, what’s wrong with being a wife? Sirius is a good man –anyone would be honored to be his wife.”

“I didn’t come all of this way to fight with you, Arwan. I came back here to take you home, and that is just what I will do.”

“I can’t just leave,” Arwan shook his head. “I would need Sirius’s permission, and he would never allow it. I’m telling you that right now.”

“What about your inheritance.”

“I guess it’s yours now,” Arwan shrugged. “I’m in no position to claim it.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say, Arwan,” Atish spoke up. He had been listening to the brother’s quarrel with interest. He reached up to brush a lock of Arwan’s hair out of his face. “You should claim what is yours. This Sirius person seems like a good man –surely he would allow you time to mourn for your parents. Time to go home, and claim what is yours. You could come back.”

“People always want to go home again, Atish,” Arwan looked up at his old friend. “But there will always be something there that is holding them back. If I go home, I may not come back here. There are too many things there that are going to grab hold of me and keep me. I would rather not chance it.”

“Like what?” Atish prodded. “Bast is your only family left. Your wife left our city without child. She miscarried shortly after you left. All she could think of was how disappointed you would be when you got back…but when you didn’t return with the others, she disappeared.”

A pang twisted in Arwan’s stomach. When he had left to go to war, his wife Neema had been pregnant. He hadn’t thought much about her over the years since he had been gone. She had been a marriage of convenience. Arranged by their parents, and brought up closely together. They had been good friends but lousy lovers. She always thought he should expect more from her, and he found that she tried too hard to please him, when he just wanted her to be herself.

But in truth, Arwan had always preferred his male childhood friend to Neema. Atish’s soft words were always more helpful then hers. Even after they had both married, Atish’s marriage much more successful then his, he was surprised to find that they still had time for one another.

“What about you, Atish? If I go home, would you let me leave again?” Arwan looked up into his bright blue eyes.

“If it was what you really wanted,” Atish nodded. “I would let you go.”

“How charming,” Bast spat. “You two are just as queer as ever.”

Atish smiled, wrapping his arms around Arwan’s shoulders, “Ah, well, your brother was my first love, Bast. I may be married with five children, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him any less then I did back then.” He pressed a kiss to Arwan’s cheek. Xander cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow.

Arwan reluctantly pushed Atish away from him, “Ah, Sirius would no like that, right Xander?”

“No, I don’t think he would,” Xander confirmed. “But I won’t tell him –so long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“Ach, what does the Spartan say?” Atish asked, scratching his forehead.

“Sirius is rather…overprotective. I don’t think he would like you touching me in such a way,” Arwan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Atish.”

Atish shrugged, “It can’t be helped.”

“So, you won’t come home?” Bast brought them back to the reason they had come all the way to Sparta. “Not for anything?”

“Brother, even if I wanted...”

“Is his heart made of ice?” Bast bit. “What harm is there in at least asking?”

“Sirius and I are…we’re not very cordial with one another right now. We’ve been arguing for the last couple of weeks. If I ask him now… Well, he’ll take the request the wrong way. You came at a bad time for us.”

“What are you? His lover?”

Arwan raised an eyebrow, “What if I was?”

“Then maybe it would be best if you didn’t come home,” Bast shook his head.

“You come all this way to ask him home, but when I tell you I may have a male lover you disown me? That’s a little critical don’t you think, Bast?”

“It isn’t that you have a male lover. It’s that you would choose him over your own family. I’ve known about your perchance for men since we were adolescents. Your marriage was always a kind of sham. I am not in the least bit surprised that you would have chosen a man to fall in love with.”

“Who said I was in love with him?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Sirius takes care of me. But he wants things I can’t give him.”

“But you love him.”

“Maybe I do. It’s complicated.”

“Everything is complicated in love and war. That is why they are so similar.”

“I wish love was as simple as war,” Arwan shook his head.

“I concur.”

The group turned to look at the voice in the doorway. No one had noticed Sirius arrive, and a blush crept up Arwan’s face, hoping he hadn’t heard too much of their conversation.

“Sirius, what are you doing here?”

“I was concerned,” Sirius stepped into the room. “Apparently I had good reason.” He put a hand on Arwan’s shoulder. “I am sorry, but Arwan can’t go with you.”

“Why not? You said yourself he isn’t a prisoner here.”

“Because I need him,” Sirius’s fingers tightened on Arwan’s shoulder. “Even if I were to let him go, I have no guarantee that he would come back. And I simply cannot live without him.”

“Are you really such a child?” Bast countered.

Sirius nodded, “I am. And just like a child, I don’t like to share. It’s never been something that I am particularly good at,” He gave a pointed look at Atish, sizing him up. “I respect that you have a past with Arwan –you’re his brother and his friends. However, that part of Arwan’s life is over now.”

“Sirius,” Arwan looked up at him, concerned.

Sirius shifted his eyes to look down at him, “Arwan, do you want to go home?”

Arwan shrugged, shaking his head, “There’s nothing there for me.

“The hell there isn’t!” Bast shouted. “What about me? What about Atish? Are you going to push him aside too?”

Arwan looked up at Atish’s hurt expression. Slowly, he lifted Sirius’s hand from his shoulder, and stepped closer to his best friend, “You know that I love you, Atish. But, you have a good family. You don’t need me anymore.” He turned to his brother, his eyes trying to hide his sadness. “Even if I came home to stay –I’ve always been weak. I don’t have a right to burden the rest of you. Life here is hard sometimes, but I can handle my duties. Starting a brand new life back in Persia… It’s not possible for me.”

“Then I came all of this way for nothing,” Bast shook his head. “I am sorry for wasting your time.”

“It was good to see you,” Arwan touched his arm. “All of you.”

Bast shrugged off Arwan’s hand, stepping towards Sirius, “You had best take care of him. If I find out he’s been hurt in anyway, I won’t think twice about coming back here and slaughtering you.”

Sirius gave him a curt nod, “I understand. Before you go…you’re welcome to stay and visit. My house is open to you for as long as you would all like to stay –if Arwan would like to see to guests that is.” He looked down at Arwan. “Would you like them to stay for a few days?”

Arwan nodded, turning to his brother and friends, “Please, you don’t have to leave so soon. You must be tired from travelling. Stay and rest for a day or two before you go back.”

“No,” Bast shook his head. “We were delayed on our journey here, so we should get back as quickly as possible. Arwan, if you change your mind, you know where to go.” He got up from his chair, and beckoned his compatriots to follow him.

Xander stretched, getting up from his chair once they were gone, “Well, that was certainly exciting. I had best go and return their horses to them. Sorry for all of this trouble Sirius.”

“No trouble, Xander,” Sirius shook his head. “Thank you for not killing them on site.”

Xander gave him a soft smile, patting Sirius’s cheek, “What can I say, I have a soft spot for the Persian boys myself.”

Sirius waited for the man to leave, closing the door to the house behind him. Once they were gone, his arms wrapped around Arwan’s waist from behind and his chin rested on the top of his head. The two stood in the quiet room in silence, Arwan lifting a hand to touch Sirius’s wrists at his waist.

Finally, Sirius spoke up, “I’m sorry for the strain between us lately. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about.”

Arwan shrugged, “It’s alright.”

“I want to make it up to you,” Sirius pressed his lips against Arwan’s neck. “Will you let me? Please, let me.” Arwan hummed, turning his face away from Sirus’s lips as he kissed his neck.

“Not right now. Perhaps later.” He reached up to touch the top of Sirius’s head. “It has been a trying day. And I’ve been distracted from my usual chores.”

“To hell with your chores,” Sirius shook his head. “Right now, I want to confirm that you’re all mine.” He turned Arwan around in his arms, tipping his face up to kiss him. “You may come willingly or I will resort to force. The choice is yours.”

“Sirius,” Arwan smiled, shaking his head. “You don’t need to force me to do anything for you.”

Point of View

A local art magazine (Volume One) is doing their annual fiction contest. This is the piece I am thinking about submitting, but I'm not quite sure about it yet. So far, people have liked it.

Point of View

The wind whistles outside and the door slams loudly behind me. I am late and he’s upset. I know because of the number of text messages and voicemails on my phone –which finally buzzes to life after I plug it in to charge. I half expect him to come racing down the stairs, frantic with worry. But he hasn’t.

His footsteps are calm as he comes down the stairs, ducking under the over-hang. I look up at him, silent. He’s not my keeper –I’m my own person. He can’t be mad at me just because I’m an hour or so later then I said I would be.

“Where’ve you been?” He finally says, crossing his arms over his chest, after getting comfortable on the couch. “I called. I texted.”

“I see,” I wiggle my charging phone at him. “My battery died. I would have called. You don’t need to worry about me all the time, you know.”

“But I do have to worry, damn it!”

He’s mad. It’s understandable. I’ve been late like this a lot lately. Once I had been in an accident, and now all he could do was fret. He was the type of guy who would lock the person he loved in a tower if he was able. And I guess I had somehow ended up being that person.

“Look, I have things to do. I can’t be exactly here you want, or think I should be all the time.” I shake my head. “I was at work and then I picked up some groceries. The bags are in the car.” I don’t mean that to come out as a challenge to my word, but it seems like it comes out at as one.

He sighs, “Do you see the weather out there?” He gets up from the couch, crossing the room. His hands feel heavy against my hips as he pressed his forehead against mine.

“It’s raining,” I say.

“Yeah. For all I know, you could have been struck by lightning or who knows what else.”

“Paranoid much?”

“I just care about you; why do you chastise me for that?”

“Because sometimes, I think you care too much,” I break his hold on me. His hands fall to his sides. I turn away from him. I can’t look at him anymore.

Now I’m mad. He’s so fucking clingy all of the time. He’s not controlling, but he’s got this habit of neediness. It pisses me off.

I stalk back to the kitchen and open the fridge. It’s kind of bare and I remember that all of the groceries I just bought are still out in the car. I sigh and the fridge creaks as I close it, shaking slightly on its base.

“You want help carrying that stuff in?”

His voice is soft now. He knows he made me mad. He’s not sure why, but he’s trying to make up for it. I’m not going to let him, though.

“I didn’t need your help getting it into the car, so why would I need your help getting it out?”

I try to ignore the wince at the corner of his eyes. He probably things I don’t notice that it hurts him, but I do. It was kind of the point of saying it.

“Okay,” he nods. “I get it. I’ll just go back to work then.” He turns around and I hold back my sigh. I’ve always thought he looked damn fine from behind. I don’t call him back. I don’t need him. I don’t like feeling like I need him.

The rain hurts as it pelts against my bare face. My hair flies into my eyes and I brush it away only to have it back where it was a moment later. My trunk is filled with plastic bags. I load up my arms with as many as possible so I don’t have to make two trips. I fail miserably and have to come back out for the gallon of milk.

I hear him walking around upstairs. He is probably pacing while on the phone with a client. We keep the floor between us for a couple of hours. After putting the groceries away, I putz around downstairs. I fold the laundry that has been sitting in the living room for the last two days. I watch a little television. I poke our little hamster awake and watch him zoom around the room in his purple ball.

I hear the door to his office open upstairs and I can hear him talking.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’m going to sign out for the night, man. It’s getting late…” His laugh is intoxicating. “That prolly means you deserve a break. –Yeah, have a nice night.” The phone beeps and a minute later, he is taking heavy steps down the stairs.

“Folding socks?” He ducks under the overhang again.

It’s a stupid question. He just wants to hear my voice. I don’t reply, just keep my eyes trained on the TV. My hands are busy with the folding. He sighs heavily when he sees that I won’t be responding to him. He sits on an empty portion of the couch and takes a pile of socks from me to help.

“Are you going to be mad at me all night?”

“I was never mad at you,” I lie. “You were mad at me.”

“Is it wrong for me to worry about you,” he asks. He tosses a mated pair to a basket across the room. It misses and rolls across the floor. It stops short of where our hamster has paused to wash is face. “I don’t get your attitude lately.”

“You’re fucking clingy and it drives me nuts –that’s my fucking attitude lately.”

“You don’t have to yell at me. I’m sitting right next to you.” His face is turning red and I don’t really understand why. I tend to be a little robotic when it comes to feelings. That’s why I don’t understand how I found such a great guy like him. Not when I’m just a soulless idiot. He deserves someone better. Someone who isn’t me.

He doesn’t agree with me though. When we fight, he tells me I’m just looking for an excuse not to be with him. He tells me I don’t have the right to decide if I’m the one for him. He tells me that he loves me.

I tell him he’s full of shit and if he knew any better, he would just run away from me. As far, and as fast, as he could.

The couch shifts as he leans back against the arm. We’re out of socks except for a few straggler “lost-in-the-wash” singles that will turn up the next time one of us does laundry.

“You want to do something fun tonight?” He asks. He folds his hands behind his head, like his cranium us too big for his neck to support.

“What did you have in mind?” I bite. He does this when I’m mad at him, Suggests something fun. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn’t. But by the time we’re in bed, I’m not mad anymore.

“Arcade? You can take out all of your frustration on the gophers,” he teases.

The arcade does sound like fun…

“I don’t have any money. I just spent it all on groceries,” I turn away to idly watch the television again.

“Hello…who’s your sugar-daddy?”

“Baby, if I had a sugar daddy, I wouldn’t be here folding your stupid socks.” I throw one of the stragglers in his general direction. It lands haphazardly on his shoulder, and he brushes it away.

He sighs, “I’ll pay for the arcade. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t intend on paying. Now stop being a little bitch, go change out of your work clothes into something sort of slutty, and let’s go out.”

I look at him. I know he’s reconsidering what he has just said because of the way I am looking down at him. He starts to say something. Starts to say that he over-stepped his bounds. That I’m not a bitch. That I can dress however I like. But before he can, I nod.

“Okay, fine. Give me five minutes,” I get up, and hoist my clothes basket onto my hip. “Put hammy back in his cage.”

He watches me, his mouth slightly agape as I climb the stairs. I don’t look back at him.

Even through the bathroom door, I finally hear him move downstairs to do as I had directed. I take my time changing. No reason to make him think that I am doing this for him. I don’t dress as sluttish as he would probably have liked, but it’s enough to get a low whistle as I descend back down the stairs.

The arcade is loud when we walk in the door a while later. It is still raining heavily outside so it’s not busy as it might normally be, but it’s still busy enough. He goes to the counter and gets us tokens and puts fifty dollars on each of our gaming cards. I wonder where he gets all the cash he throws around.

“What do you want to play first?” He asks. His arm slides around my waist as we approach the games. I look around at all of the flashing lights and bright candy-like colors.

“Give me your tokens.” I’m not shy about reaching into his back pocket to take out a handful of the little gold coins.

“The token-slots? Really…”

“Easiest hundred tickets you can make, baby,” I tell him. I sit down in front of one of the machines. He shakes his head, kissing my cheek.

“I’m going to go play the claw machines. Back in a bit.”

I nod, watching the pile of gold coins fall into the slot. The tickets click as they begin their pile on the floor.

Half an hour later, I’ve only spent a fraction of his money, but I’ve won a few hundred tickets by now. I move to the redemption machine and put the tickets on my gaming card. I look around for him while I wait for the tickets to disappear back into the machine to be recycled.

I see him across the room, brushing off some girl trying to hit on him. She touches his arm and laughs, throwing off his concentration. I notice he’s got quite the pile of winnings from his claw machine –those are his favorite. He’ll present his toys to me later, like they were a breeze to win. But I know the truth. He works hard to uncover the item he really wants if necessary. The other winnings are just bonuses.

With my tickets redeemed, I make my way over to him, sliding my arm around his waist. He relaxes, knowing my touch across his back.

“Hey baby, win me something pretty?” I kiss his cheek as the machine dings, signifying a win. He turns to smile.

“I think I got some stuff you’ll like.” He kisses me back and his little friend, the flirt, looks surprised. Like a guy who hangs out in an arcade on a Tuesday night could never have a significant other. She scurries away like a cockroach after the lights have been turned on. “How’d you do?”

“About 500 tickets,” I shrug. “You want to play something with me? Free-throws or something?”

“Sure,” he nods. He takes my hand, linking my fingers with his.

I beat him twice, once very narrowly. We claim our tickets and move on to a trivia game which we fail at miserably. Then we try a couple of racing games and before we know it, we’ve only got a few dollars left on our gaming cards. Since we got there, I’ve forgotten that I was mad at him. I think he has too. I suggest we go to dinner before heading home and he agrees.

We leave the arcade and step back outside into the pouring rain. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to be letting up anytime soon, but it feels…different. Before we had left the house, it was heavy. Now it feels refreshing, even though it’s the same amount of rain.

We choose a restaurant close to the house. Not for any particular reason other then that we both like the food. But even the restaurant is quiet tonight. No one wants to chance the rain. We are obviously a pair of crazies.

It’s a little strange having the restaurant to ourselves, but it’s also kind of nice. We don’t have a problem hearing each other over the din. We apologize for earlier. He was just worried. I was just being an idiot. I thank him for a fun time. He thanks me for being so damn cute, and kisses me over the table. His foot presses against mine underneath the table.

Later when we’re in bed, I listen to him breath against the back of my neck. He’s not quite asleep yet. I can tell because of the grip he’s got on my t-shirt, his fist placed against my hip. He is relaxing, and his breath is beginning to slow. Once his hand has relaxed against my shirt, and his breath is coming in shallow beats, I know he is finally asleep.

It’s been a trying day. I’m glad that it’s over. My hand reaches up and touches his. In his sleep, his fingers tighten around mine, and I can’t stop my smile. Even though we have our problems…and we’ve been fighting a lot more then usual lately… As soon as he’s asleep next to me, with his hand resting across the stretch of skin my twisted t-shirt leaves uncovered, none of that matters. For a few moments before I drift off to sleep, I remember that I love him…and that’s why I stay.

Spartans: When A Boy Loves a Man (Chp. 3)

Note: Spacing is wonky. I apologize.

Spartans: When A Boy Loves a Man

Part III

“I don’ think he likes me.”

“Don’t be silly, Arwan. He likes you fine.”

“He looks at me with resentment. He hates me.”

“Arwan…”

“No,” Arwan sighed. The two of them were in the bathhouse after Cole had scurried off to his lessons. “I’m your slave. I know my place, but he thinks that there’s more to us then that.”

“Arwan,” Sirius turned in the water, taking the cloth from his servant’s hand, and tossing it aside. “You are more then that. You’re my best friend.”

“That doesn’t change my position, Sirius.” Arwan shook his head. “Turn back around. You’re covered in dirt. You’re like a child, when will you grow up?”

Sirius barked with laughter but complied, turning around again, “Sorry Mama.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Arwan resisted the urge to pinch him, scrubbing harder at Sirius’s back. “Tell me about your boy. I’ll be seeing a lot of him, I take it?”

“I am his mentor,” Sirius shrugged.

“Mentor?” The word sounded foreign on Arwan’s tongue. “What is a mentor?”

Sirius thought for a moment, deciding how to explain it to his friend, “Boys need a guiding hand. So, they go under the wing of an older solider, and we teach them how to be great warriors and men. We are like their surrogate fathers.”

“But you have sex with this boy.”

Sirius nodded, “Yes, I do.”

“Then, you aren’t his father. You’re his lover.”

“In a way,” Sirius nodded.

“I don’t understand,” Arwan shook his head. “Was that the kind of relationship you had with Argus?”

Sirius pursed his lips. He hadn’t talked about his own mentor since his death a few months before. He had mourned and moved on. He hadn’t wanted to talk about his mentor, a person who had meant more to him then life itself.

“When I was younger, I did. Argus didn’t focus on the sexual aspect of our relationship for long though. He taught me what I needed to know, and that was it.”

“But that isn’t your plan with this boy, is it?”

“I’ve admired this boy for a long time, Arwan. I would like to have a deeper relationship with him. Please, don’t judge me because of that.”

“Is that what he wants?”

Arwan was quiet, and he finished scrubbing the dirt away from Sirius’s back and shoulders. “Alright, you’re clean. Get out of the water.” He stood up, tossing the damp cloth into a laundry bin along the wall. He moved towards the tray he had set out earlier, and picked up a fresh towel. He started patting Sirius down with it, drying him off. Sirius looked down at the top of his head, setting his hands on Arwan’s shoulders for balance.

“Arwan?”

“Hmm?” Arwan didn’t look up at him, moving away again to pick up a bottle of oil.

“Arwan,” Sirius stopped him, lifting his face up. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Arwan shook his head.

Sirius nodded, “Alright, go on then.”

Arwan went back to work, coating Sirius’s skin in a thin layer of the oil that made his skin so glossy. Sirius let him move him the way he wanted, much like a little doll. He liked the way Arwan’s fingers felt, stroking across his stomach. As the dark haired servant moved behind him, he had to suppress the groan that threatened to leave his throat. Arwan seemed completely unaware of the effect he had as he continued to just go about his work.

“Arwan?”

“Hmm?”

“Stop that for just a moment,” Sirius turned round. Arwan lifted his oil-coated hands, little beads of which started to run down his wrists. Sirius drank him in for a moment before leaning forward and kissing him. Arwan’s eyes widened, and he used the back of his hands to push on Sirius’s shoulders.

“I’ve told you before, that’s not allowed. Do you want to get me killed?”

“Don’t be such a worrier. We’re the only ones here.” Sirius rolled his eyes. He grabbed a hold of Arwan’s roughly made shirt, pulling him forward. “I like the way your hands feel on me.”

“You’re just a pervert,” Arwan replied coolly. “Let me finish, you have other duties to attend to today you know.”

Sirius sighed, but obliged him. Arwan always got mad at him when he tried to peak his interest. He wasn’t sure if it was because he really wasn’t interested, or if it was because he actually was. Either way, their little game had been going on for years, and Sirius didn’t personally see the harm in it so long as no one found out.

“What did Xenos want?” Arwan changed the subject as he finished with his oil. He wiped his hands on a cloth before picking up the fresh set of clothes, moving to fasten them around Sirius’s waist.

“Xenos has a problem with my mentoring Cole. I wouldn’t worry about it. The ephors as a whole believe it is a good match. Xenos is just jealous that the boy didn’t ask him. He tends to be, as you say, a pervert.”

Arwan hummed in understanding, fastening the last bit of cloth, “Alright, you’re all ready. Go on about your business.”

“Arwan,” Sirus turned, putting his hands on Arwan’s shoulders. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

“I can’t very well stop you, now can I?” Arwan raised an eyebrow.

“Are you angry with me, because I took you away from your home?”

Arwan furrowed his eyebrows, “Why do you ask such a question?”

Sirius brushed his thumbs over Arwan’s high cheeks, “I’m sorry I ruined your life, Arwan.”

“You didn’t ruin my life,” Arwan shook his head. “You saved me.”

Sirius smiled, and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I love you, Arwan.”

Arwan looked at him confused, not understanding the Greek. He sighed, pushing Sirius’s hands away. He didn’t ask him to repeat it, he had a feeling he didn’t want to know, “You have things to do.”

Sirius nodded, watching Arwan move away from him to clean up. He shook his head after a moment and left him to his work.

--The Past—

The entire encampment was surrounded in a heavy layer of dust. Arwan’s eyes watered and and his ears pounded. He knew that his battalion was no match for these monsters –these Spartans. Death cries could be heard from every angle –and here he was. A coward with his hands over his ears, tears in his eyes, and bleeding from more wounds then he could count. But he was alive.

“You! Are you alive?”

Arwan knew he would regret it the second after he realized he had turned towards the foreign voice. The warrior in front of him was marred in dirt and was bleeding profusely from a spear head still lodged in his arm. Arwan’s eyes widened, and the man looked at his shoulder.

“Just a scratch,” He held out his hand. “Come on. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Arwan stared at him, and the man sighed again, thrusting his hand out further. Hesitantly, he took it, and allowed the strange man to help him to his feet. Arwan was struck by how gentle he was, even nursing the injury, and the fact that they were on opposing sides. The battle was over. Spartans were the clear winners, but they just kept coming in droves, slaughtering until all of the Persian soldiers were gone. Arwan’s back felt wet with blood as the man pulled him up to his chest, holding him close as they stumbled through the field.

Arwan saw very few survivors from his troop. He averted his eyes as he saw them mowed down, desecrated for no other reason than to leave no survivors.

“Who is this?” The voice as gruff and came from behind. The man who was still holding him so tightly turned slightly.

“Not sure, I haven’t gotten around to asking,” His voice was cool.

“You should kill him.” Arwan’s eyes widened. Had this man taken him from his hiding place only to kill him like the rest of his people? If there was one Greek word that he recognized it was “kill”, and he certainly didn’t want to be referred to in the same sentence.

“I am not going to kill him. He’s mine.” The arm came tighter around his shoulders, and Arwan groaned as his savior’s grip tightened around his bruised chest. The new pressure on his broken rib wasn’t that pleasant either. The man looked down, and loosened his grip when he saw Arwan’s discomfort. He turned to address the second stranger. “—He’s pretty, I think he’ll make a good servant.”

The other man laughed, loud and barbaric. He clapped Arwan’s rescuer on his good shoulder, “—As you will, Sirius. You should probably go get that shoulder taken care of.”

“It’s just a scratch. I want to get him cleaned up first.”

“Just don’t let it go too long, you’re risking infection.”

“I’ll be fine.”

In a moment, Arwan and the man were moving again towards a group of shabby tents. Sirius pushed him in front of him, and they were almost immediately parted, but not before he heard him say, “Take care of him –you hurt him and I’ll see personally to your death.”

Arwan stole a glance over his shoulder as he was pushed towards the other side of the tent. The medic that taken him seemed preoccupied, tearing away the last remains of his clothes, and started cleaning his wounds. Arwan couldn’t stop the groan as he was pushed back on the cot, and the medics fingers felt for the broken rib.

“Weak,” the medic rolled his eyes. Arwan cursed at him, and the medic laughed. Arwan let his head roll to the side, trying to ignore the cruel hands that worked across his body. He watched the stoic man across the room not even flinch as another physician pushed the spear head the rest of the way through his shoulder, yanking it out the backside. He could practically feel the sting as ointment was poured over the impressive wound…and yet nothing crossed the man’s face. He laughed at a joke, but he never swore or flinched as his shoulder was bandaged

His attention was brought back to himself as the medic pulled him off his back. Thin pieces of fabric were wound across his stomach to brace the rib, and another person had appeared from somewhere and had started to wash away the dried blood from a few of his other wounds. He felt a needle stitching up a gash in his head. Their hands were rough –he could tell that they didn’t care about him. They probably didn’t even know why they were being made to fix him up while others of their own countrymen were being made to sit and suffer.

“How is he?”

“Well, he’s not dying,” The medic sounded annoyed. “You really know how to pick out the runts of the litter, don’t you, Sirius?”

“Don’t judge me, Jason,” Sirius prodded him in the side.

“Anyway, a better question is, how are you? You came in here with half a spear in your shoulder.”

“Just a scratch,” Sirius shrugged. “Are you almost finished with him?”

“Yes, just a few more stitches. –Don’t do anything strenuous with him. He’s got a broken rib –and there may be something wrong with his arm. He seemed to be favoring it when you brought him in.”

“He’ll be safe with me,” Sirius caught Arwan’s eye. He blushed red, and looked down at his filthy hands.

“Here, take him,” the physician prodded Arwan off of his cot. “Take him to the river in a couple of hours and give him a bath. Careful of the stitches –come and get some supplies and you can wrap his rib again later.”

“I will,” Sirius put an arm around his waist again, leading him out of the din of the tent. He turned to address him for the first time, “Are you hungry? …Food?” Arwan looked at him wide eyed, still not understanding until Sirius made eating motions with his hands, looking exasperated. Arwan nodded, and Sirius sighed, relieved at the understanding, and steered him towards a smoking area, filled with the battered and bruised, but jovial.

“What’s this? Pick yourself up a rugrat, Sirius?” The man dolling out of the food looked amused, splattering hot stew into two bowls, passing them to Sirius. “He doesn’t look to well –don’t get your heart set on him making it through the night.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Sirius muttered. He snitched a piece of bread from the end of the table, pushing Arwan gently towards an unoccupied area of the Spartan camp. Once they had settled on the ground, he pushed a bowl of the hot stew into Arwan’s hands along with half of the stolen bread. Arwan ate slowly, dunking his bread into his bowl. Sirius was less careful, drinking directly from the bowl, not caring at all for manners. When he had finished, he watched Arwan eat, picking out the pieces of meat and vegetables with his fingers.

“What’s your name?” Sirius finally asked as the final dregs were being lifted from the bowl with the last piece of Arwan’s spongy bread. Arwan raised an eyebrow and Sirius repeated himself. “What’s your name –I’m Sirius,” he tapped his chest. “Who are you?” He tapped Arwan’s shoulder.

“Arwan,” he finally said. He had considered giving him a fake name, but he decided it would probably not be in his best interest –he had the sinking feeling he would be spending a lot of time with this Spartan.

“Do you speak any Greek, Arwan?”

Arwan shrugged, “Little, few words.”

“Well, Arwan, I’m taking you as a prisoner. Do you understand?”

Arwan shrugged.

“You’re mine now,” Sirius stood up, tugging on Arwan’s arm, pulling him up against him. “Slave –do you know that word?”

“Slave,” Arwan repeated. He knew exactly what it meant, and it felt dirty on his tongue.

“Yes.” Sirius nodded. “Arwan, Sirius’s slave.” He tipped Arwan’s face up under the chin with his thumb. His lips pressed against Arwan’s and while his eyes drifted slightly closed while the Persian’s flew open wider, shocked. His first instinct was to push him away, but then the fear of being killed for rejected filled his body. His fingers were pressed against Sirius’s chest, and flexed –torn between putting up with the kiss or fleeing. Before he could even decide, the kiss had ended and Sirius’s arm had wrapped around his waist again. “Come, I think you need rest.”

Arwan followed along like a lost puppy, Sirius’s fingers linking with his as he pulled him through more of the encampment. Spartans turned to stare, and some said hello to his captor. He gave them brief nods, and his grip on Arwan’s hand tightened. Even though they had spent less than an hour together, Arwan could tell this man was a force to be reckoned with. And oddly enough, he felt safe with him –safe with the enemy.

“Lay down,” Sirius pushed him towards a pallet along the wall of the stuffy tent. The tent was mostly empty except for a few wounded soldiers –mostly young men. Arwan sat down on the pallet Sirius had indicated. Then he watched him pull a nearby pallet closer to his.

Sirius let out a sigh of relief, stretching out on the pallet. Arwan watched him close his eyes for a few minutes. He realized he was being watched and opened one eye to stare back. He let out a more annoyed sigh, and reached out to tug Arwan down next to him, against his right side. Arwan was surprised at how relaxed Sirius seemed, and he wished he could be so calm and peaceful in this encampment of men he had been instructed to kill…

“You look better,” Sirius had been watching him sleep. He hadn’t even noticed he had fallen asleep, but he did feel a little better. His stomach was still full from the stew, and the throbbing in his head had mostly subsided. The only thing that still ached was his rib.

“Do you want to take a bath? …The River. Get clean?” Sirius’s voice brought him back.

Arwan nodded –another word he understood. Clean. And he desperately wanted to feel clean. Even though they had scrubbed him down at the medic tent, he was still caked with blood and dirt.

“C’mon then,” Sirius pushed himself to his feet with his good arm before holding out his hand to Arwan. Arwan took his hand without a second though. He was growing accustomed to following him around like a child.

Arwan’s eyes widened as Sirius began to disrobe on the short beach to the river. There were a few other Spartans around, horse-playing in the water, a reward for a battle well-won.

“Well, c’mon. Take your clothes off,” Sirius stepped towards him, already nude. Arwan thrust his hands away as he started to try and undo the fabric around his waist. “Arwan, you can’t get clean like that.”

Arwan swore at him, pushing Sirius’s hands away as he tried a second time, “No!”

“Why not?” Sirius looked quizzical. “You have something funny down there?” He tried one last time and was rewarded with a swift kick to the shin. He put his hands up in surrender. “Alright! Come in when you’re ready then,” he turned his back on him, wading into the water.

Arwan waited on the beach for a few minutes before slowly making his way towards the edge of the water. He knelt in the cold, wet sand and scrubbed at his arms and face with wet hands. The water felt good against his skin and even though he wasn’t getting as clean as he would have liked, it was definitely an improvement. He dunked his head into the water, scrubbing out his hair, careful of the stitches in the gash on his head.

“You are horrible,” Sirius reappeared at his side, dripping wet but clean. “You need to learn to listen.” Arwan ignored him, which wasn’t hard because he didn’t really understand what he was saying anyway. “Oy,” Sirius tapped him, “are you listening to me?” He sounded annoyed, and Arwan raised an eyebrow at him, continuing to scrub at his skin. Sirius sighed, “Forget it, this is pointless. I should have just killed you and saved myself the trouble.”

Arwan’s eyes widened again, and he fell backwards onto his butt in the water, crawling backwards away from Sirius. He knew there was no chance for an escape. He was in the middle of the Spartan camp. Any survivors from his own army where already being slaughtered or forced into conditions worse then he could ever dream.

“I’m not going to!” Sirius stepped towards him. “Melodramatic much?” He reached out to touch him, and Arwan’s hands came over his head, protecting his face. His knees pulled up against his chest, pulling his body into a ball. His eyes squeezed shut and he waited for the blow –would Sirius beat him to death? Would he gather a weapon and run him through? Would he drag him towards the river and drown him?

“Arwan!” Sirius’s hands were on his wrists, pulling him away from his head. “I’m not going to hurt you! Arwan…” Sirius grunted as an un-aimed fist came down on his injured shoulder. “Shit…we have to do something about his language barrier.” He pulled a very stiff and inflexible Arwan up to his feet. Arwan kept his gaze down, jerking his head out of Sirius’s hands as he tried to get him to look at him. Sirius was determined though, jerking his head up to look at him. Arwan tried to avoid looking him in the eye but the pressure on his jaw made him change his mind. Sirius’s eyes struck him as being very blue and they bore down into him.

“I will not hurt you,” Sirius shook his head.

“No kill?” Arwan whispered.

“No kill,” Sirius confirmed.

Arwan let himself breathe a sigh of relief, and Sirius laughed shaking his head, “C’mon –you’re all wet now. Let’s get you dry clothes.” Sirius pressed his lips to Arwan’s softly for the second time that day. But this time, Arwan had no second guessing about trying to push him away. He let it run its course, trying not to look flabbergasted when it ended.

Spartans: When a Boy Loves a Man (Part II)

Note: Again, I am in NO WAY going for historical accuracy. Got that? THIS IS NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURATE. I know, you know. We all know, and accept it. If you don’t like that, well then I suggest you find something else to read. Italics are “foreign”. Oh, and there is more set-up then sex here. Just trying to give this some direction/plot.

Spartans: When a Boy Loves a Man

Part Two

“Where have you been, Cole?”

“Nowhere,” Cole was still recovering from his first tryst with Sirius. After they had finished in the class room, they had gone back to the bathhouse to clean up again. Sirius had invited him to help rub the oils into his skin that helped keep him so sleek and supple. He had been rewarded by being given similar treatment afterwards for a job well done. Cole could still feel Sirius’s expert hands running across every crevice of his body. He turned over onto his stomach on his meager pallet to hide his excitement from his bed-mates.

“You were gone for a long time –did you get into trouble?”

“Trouble for what, Markus? If you really must know, I was in the bath-house.”

“For two hours?” His best friend looked bemused.

“I…I ran into Sirius.”

“Oh?” He sounded interested.

“If I tell you something, will it just stay between us?” Cole sat up, scooting closer to his friend. His voice was quiet, barely audible in the noisy din of chatter and snoring.

“Of course,” Markus nodded.

“Sirius was flirting with me. I asked him to be my mentor. He agreed.”

“He what?!” Markus’s reaction was greeted with a peal of annoyed out-cries. He repeated himself, more softly.

“He’s my mentor.”

“But I thought you were just going to pay the fine.”

“I was, but…well, I really look up to him, and he accepted the offer.”

“So, when you were at the bathhouse, you were really being…mentored?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Ever the late-bloomer, aren’t you, Cole?” Markus clapped a hand on his shoulder.

Cole blushed red, “Shut up.”

“So, how did you like it?”

“It was odd… I mean, I liked it, but it’s just, well, we’re always taught to be dominate and not let people take advantage of us. We’re taught to be fighters. But I felt like water in his hands.”

“With our mentors is the one place we can let our guard down. We should trust them with our lives,” Markus shrugged.

Cole nodded, “I guess so.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I just… I wanted something else.”

“More? Like what?”

Cole leaned over to whisper in Markus’s ear, “I really wanted him inside of me.” He backed away to see Markus’s expression. “Is that sick?”

Markus shrugged, “It’s forbidden, it can’t happen.”

“Well, what’s the worst that may happen?”

“Exile…Death.”

“It may be worth it.”

“No, no… Sirius would be exiled. YOU would be killed.”

“It may be worth it.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Cole raised a belligerent eyebrow.

“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing. Get to know him better before you go willing to toss your life away.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.”

“The pretty ones are always stupid,” Markus turned away from him, pulling his scratchy blanket up over his shoulders.

“If that’s true then you must be the dumbest one of all!”

And with that, the two friends went to sleep with their backs to each other.

“Sleep well?” Sirius’s voice as warm against Cole’s ear at the breakfast table the next morning.

“Well enough,” Cole nodded.

“I spoke with the ephors this morning. They are quite pleased with the match. –You have free time this afternoon, right?”

Cole nodded.

“Meet me out side of the dormitory. We’ll start your training,” Sirius’s strong hands tilted Cole’s face upwards to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He looked up, grinning over the din of people. “I think you’ve gotten yourself some enemies.” Cole shivered slightly, feeling dozens of eyes boring into his back.

“It would figure. You’re rather popular.”

“Be careful,” Sirius patted his head before moving along to sit back at his table.

“So, what you said last night was true?” Markus looked up at him over his bowl, across the table.

“Oh, so you are still speaking to me?”

“You made mad last night, but of course I’m still talking to you,” Markus kicked him under the table. Cole resisted the urge to rub the pain out of the spot.

“Anyway, yeah, of course it’s true. When have I ever lied to you?”

Markus shrugged, “Why did he say yes to you and no to all of the others who asked?”

Cole shrugged, “I don’t know. I asked him that myself, he just said that he’s noticed me. That he’s been watching me.”

“That’s kind of…strange, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Cole shrugged. “I’m confused. I don’t understand what is happening.”

“What are you confused about? He’s going to teach you how to be a warrior.” Markus shrugged.

Cole lowered his head over his plate, and glanced around the table. For the most part, they were final stragglers. There were a few men on the ends of the table, but he didn’t know them well. He looked back up at Markus, “But what does that mean?”

“He’ll train you, personally. Battle procedure, weaponry, armor, behavior. He’ll refine you. He’ll make you as great as he is –and Sirius is a great warrior.”

“I know that he is, which is why I am all the more confused at that he wanted to be my mentor!” Cole sighed.

“Relax,” Markus sighed, shaking his head. “You’ll be fine. He’ll take care of you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of…”

The wrestling ring had never been one of Cole’s favorite places. He didn’t mind watching matches between skilled hand-to-hand combat warriors. But hand-to-hand wasn’t exactly his area of expertise. He felt best with a sword in his hand, and a shield over his shoulder. And how Sirius was trying to coax him into the ring with him.

“You’re going to slaughter me,” Cole furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Sirius laughed. He was already naked and sleek with oils. “Take off your clothes and get in here with me.”

“Why?”

“Don’t be belligerent,” Sirius warned.

Cole sighed, shedding his scraps of clothing, setting them aside, he stepped into the ring, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright, fine. Now what?”

“Now we oil you up,” Sirius motioned for a servant to approach, holding a large clay jar. The servant was careful about being wasteful as he poured cold, amber colored oil from the pot down Cole’s back and front. The servant set the jar aside, rubbing his hands down Cole’s back. Sirius stepped forward, his rough hands slicking the oil down across Cole’s front.

“Now, aren’t you glad I made you come out here?” Sirius’s hands coaxed down lower over Cole’s hips. He was teasing him now.

“You shouldn’t do that here,” Cole whispered. He felt awkward between the two men, and he couldn’t help but grow excited as Sirius’s palms stroked oil between his thighs.

“Don’t worry…he doesn’t speak our language. He won’t tell anyone.” Sirius knelt down as his hands stroked up Cole’s thighs and down his calves. “I trust him, you should too.”

“I trust no one,” I shook my head. “Isn’t that something you drill into our heads everyday?”

“Cole, I’m the one person you can trust,” Sirius assured him, standing back up. He said something discernable to the servant, who nodded at him, and picked up his oil pot to go sit on the sideline until he was needed again. “Now…how much do you know about wrestling?”

“Just what I’ve seen from others doing it,” Cole shrugged.

“Well, okay…basic rules of wrestling: no hitting or kicking, no eye gouging, no pulling of the genitalia. Points are scored when someone’s back hits the ground, someone stops the match out of pain or fear, or someone is forcibly removed from the ring. Understand?”

“I think so.”

“Then shall we begin?” Sirius gave another foreign bark to the servant who nodded. A moment later, Sirius pushed Cole into a stance and a bell tinkled.

“Oof!” Sirius’s shoulder introduced itself to Cole’s stomach. Cole was easily overtaken, despite his best efforts to conquer the older man. He found himself shoved onto his back less then a minute after the bout had started, and he started up into Sirius’s sparkling eyes.

“You aren’t trying very hard,” Sirius countered.

“You’re bigger then I am,” Cole argued.

“I’m bigger, but you’re younger. You’re spryer. Use my weight against me,” He suggested. “Get up, start again.”

With a thin layer of dirt across his back, Cole stood back up. A moment later, the little bell tinkled again, and he was on his back once more.

“You’re not even trying now,” Sirius teased. His lips brushed Cole’s in a neat little kiss. “How are you going to be a great warrior if you can’t even defeat a foe twice your size?”

“I’ll use my wiles and charm?”

Sirius laughed, “I hardly think that would get you out of a war, my darling boy.” He stood up, holding his hand out. Cole took it, letting him pull him to his feet. “Now…when I come at you this time, remember. Use my weight against me.”

Cole nodded, repeating it to himself. The bell tinkled, and Cole tried to focus more as Sirius stepped towards him. He took the initiative this time, slipping underneath Sirius’s arms, pulling them behind his back. Their legs intertwined, and Cole was tugging Sirius out of balance. The two were on their knees a moment later, the dirt and rocks digging into their knees. Sirius’s skin was slippery and hard to hold onto. He found himself losing his grip, so he moved quickly to grasp Sirius around the waist.

“Pinning me on my stomach isn’t going to help you, Cole,” Sirius reminded him. “It has to be the back.”

Cole sighed, backing away from him. He let Sirius get up and recompose himself for he started his attack again. This time he went for Sirius’s waist right away, plowing him over. Sirius pushed back. Cole felt like he was in a pool, feeling the way Sirius’s hands moved down across his back.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. Sirius’s hands found their way under his thighs, and he he just lifted him up totally effortlessly, flipping him upside down. He landed on his shoulder, suppressing his groan as he rolled onto his stomach. Unlike him however, Sirius used it as an advantage, kneeling over him. His knees locked to Cole’s sides, and his hands starting trying to pry at his shoulders, pulling him onto his side. Cole bit his lip, trying to reach around looking for a way to reverse their position. Sirius wasn’t having any of it though –he was playing to win. Finally Cole couldn’t hold back anymore, so just let him turn him over.

“That was pathetic,” Sirius was grinning. His chest was rising and falling in heated pants, as he caught his breath. “You’re a horrible wrestler, Cole.”

“I thought that was point –you’re supposed to be teaching me,” Cole tried to ignore the sharp pebble that was biting into his back. “I’m better with swords.”

“We’ll get there,” Sirius nodded. “You can’t be a truly great warrior until you’ve skill in the ring.”

“What if I don’t want to be a great warrior?”

“Then you were born in the wrong society of people,” Sirius stroked his thumbs across Cole’s cheeks. His hips adjusted, sitting squarely on Cole’s stomach. “You’re right in a way. You’re too pretty to be a Spartan.”

Cole flushed red, “I’m only half Spartan. You know that.” He pushed on Sirius’s stomach, trying to push him away.

Sirius captured his hands, holding them down against his chest. He looked up at the servant who was still sitting there, watching with only a mild interest. Cole’s face contorted in confusion as Sirius spoke to him. The servant stood up, gave them both a low nod, and disappeared. He closed the gates behind him, and disappeared.

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him to go keep watch,” Sirius forced Cole’s chin up to kiss him squarely. “I wanted some privacy with you. While I don’t mind if Arwan watches, you seem rather chaste.”

“Does he watch you often?” Cole’s knuckles were turning white as he tried to forcibly wrench Sirius’s hands from his face.

“Sometimes,” Sirius nodded.

“Where did you find him?”

“He was a prisoner of war when we fought Persia. I liked him, so I kept him.”

“You learned his language for him?”

Sirius laughed, “I picked it up. He’s not a quick learner.” He lifted his hands from Cole’s face, letting them trail down his chest. “Does he bother you? He’s just a servant.”

“But you do things with him, don’t you?”

“He’s a servant,” Sirius repeated.

Cole shook his head, “That’s not answering the question.”

“Yes, I do things with him. But it doesn’t mean anything. He knows his position.” Sirius covered his body again, forcing Cole’s mouth open to accept his tongue. Cole’s fingers flexed against the bigger man’s chest, torn between pushing him away and welcoming the attack.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius finally asked, backing off. “You’re not as receptive as you were last night…did something happen?” His hands stroked the oil that beaded with sweat and slipped down Cole’s chest. His hands felt firm and hard against

“You’re hurting me,” Cole admitted.

“Spartan’s feel no pain. Let that be your first lesson,” Sirius gripped Cole’s arms, pulling him up against him. “Do you understand?”

“It’s not that you’re hurting me,” Cole corrected himself. “I’m just uncomfortable what with all of the dirt and rocks against my back.”

“You’re so dainty…perhaps we should throw you to the women and bring you up as a girl,” Sirius teased. His lips found Cole’s again, his hands more gentle when tipping up his chin then they had been before.

“Now…are you ready to try again?” Sirius asked.

Cole looked confused, “I thought we were..”

Sirius laughed, “We will. But right now, I’m teaching. We’ll do that afterwards.”

“Why send your servant away, if we weren’t—“

“His name is Arwan,” Sirius corrected. “I sent him away because I thought you might do better without an audience. Are you ready to try again?”

Cole nodded, “I think so.”

Sirius leaned in closely, “I’ll give you a reward when you pin me.

“What kind of reward?” Cole asked.

“That will have to be a surprise,” Sirius teased. “Now c’mon. You’ve’ seen how this is done. Think about how the younger boys over take the larger ones.”

Cole nodded and a moment later they were grappling again. Three more times, Cole found himself pinned onto his back. Over an hour had passed, and the oil on their skin had long ago coated them with dirt and sweat instead.

“One more time,” Sirius urged.

Cole was panting, but he nodded, “Just once more…anymore then that and you’ll kill me.” He brushed a streak of blood off of his cheek from where he had gotten a small cut some time before. “Okay…I’m ready.”

Sirius stepped towards him, but Cole was quicker. He closed the space between them, and pressed his lips to Sirius’s. His arms wrapped around his neck, and he pushed up closer to him. Sirius groaned against his mouth. His fingers dug into Cole’s hips, and a few moments later he found himself kneeling on the ground. Cole’s mouth urged against his harder, and he used his full weight to push him onto his back.

“Dirty cheat,” Sirius shook his head.

“Hey, I followed the rules,” Cole shrugged. “And I told you I’d use my wiles to win. I never dreamed it would work so well though.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I won the way I saw fit,” Cole shrugged.

“That’s not going to work for you in the field, I’m sorry to say.”

“I still won…what’s my reward?”

“I’ll give you your reward once we’re cleaned off –Arwan!”

The servant appeared at the gate again, and Sirius said something Cole didn’t understand. Arwan nodded, giving him a short reply. He disappeared again a minute later, and Sirius pushed on Cole’s stomach.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“The bathhouse. You need a good scrub down,” Sirius picked up his clothes from the ground outside of the ring, tying it around his waist for the trek outside. Cole followed suit, following closely behind him as Sirius pulled him by the wrist out of the enclosure.

Cole bowed his head as they passed by groups of other boys and soldiers. He felt like a puppy being pulled along by its master, but he didn’t have the courage to pull away from Sirius’s grip. He refrained from rubbing away the soreness as Sirius dropped his hand to usher him into the bathhouse.

“Where are you going?” Sirius grabbed his wrist again as he started to head towards the main pool. “That’s not where Arwan is waiting for us.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my private bath,” Sirius pushed him through a door he hadn’t really noticed before. Arwan was already there, laying out towels, oil, soaps, and fresh clothes. He kept his eyes averted, saying something to Sirius before he bowed out, closing the doors behind him.

“Did you send him away again?” Cole asked.

“No, he left on his own this time,” Sirius pushed him towards the small pool of cool water. “He doesn’t like to watch most of the time.” He stripped Cole of his clothes, before picking up a clean cloth from nearby. “Go on, get in.”

Cole took his time, slipping into the shallow pool, “Aren’t you getting in?”

“I will,” Sirius nodded, sitting on the ledge just under the waterline of the pool. “Come here. You’re filthy.” He dipped the cloth into the water before wringing it out. “Close your eyes.”

Cole squeezed his eyes shut, and Sirius rubbed the rough cloth over his face, scrubbing the dirt roughly away from his skin. Once he was pleased, he rinsed it off, and started to make long strokes across Cole’s chest, getting rid of the dirt from the ring.

“Are you alright? You’re not bleeding anymore, are you?” Sirius’s hand dipped under the water, his cloth moving across Cole’s hip. He looked at the clotted cut that decorated Cole’s cheek. “It’s not exactly a battle scar; it’ll heal.”

“Is that what these are?” Cole reached up to touch Sirius’s shoulder. A large white star-like mark adorned his skin.

“That’s what happens when a spear runs through your shoulder,” Sirius reached up, touching Cole’s hands. “But you’re too pretty to worry about that just now.”

“Does being pretty mean I’m not suitable to be a warrior?”

“Of course not,” Sirius shook his head. “I was pretty once…my mentor decided it would be best to beat it out of me. I won’t do that to you.”

Cole’s face flushed red, “You’re very beautiful, Sirius. No one could ever take that away from you. It would be impossible.”

Sirius hummed, slipping off of the ledge to stand over him. “Are you ready for your reward?”

Cole was hesitant but he nodded. Sirius lifted him easily under the butt, and set him on the edge of the pool. He brought their lips together, and Sirius’s hands found their way into Cole’s lap. He jerked forward as Sirius’s hands wrapped around him.

“What are you doing?”

Sirius smiled against his lips, “Giving you your reward for a job well done. What did you think I was doing?”

“Is this…is this going to be like last time?” Cole asked.

“Do you want it to be?”

Cole shrugged, “I don’t know. I…I’ve never done this before.”

Sirius shrank back, looking at him, “Never? Nothing?”

Cole’s face turned redder, and he shook his head, “No…is that bad?”

“Of course not,” Sirius shook his head. “I’m just surprised. You’d think that the boys would be all over you.”

“The other boys avoid me…except for Markus.” Cole’s chin sank down to his chest.

“Why?” Sirius turned serious, tilting Cole’s face towards his own. His eyes didn’t hold their usual soft-playful sparkle. They were hard, and dominate. Angry.

Cole shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t fit in with the rest of them. Because my mother isn’t Spartan. They don’t think I’m cut out to be a warrior.”

“Do you love this city?” Sirius coaxed.

“Of course I do, I was born here.”

“Then you are strong enough to be a Spartan.” Sirius kissed him soundly. “I’ll help you prove it.”

“Why did you want to be my mentor so badly?” Cole put his hand on Sirius’s chest, holding him back as he tried to move closer. “Why are you so interested in me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Stop answering me in riddles! I want a straight answer from you!”

“I wanted to be your mentor because we’re similar; you and me.”

“Similar?”

“My mother fell in love with a traveler from Athens. While he was killed in a fight, my mother was allowed to live and I was raised as a Spartan.”

“So…you really are kind of like me.”

“In a way,” Sirius nodded. His fingers brushed Cole’s hair back behind his ear. “I knew your father. He was very proud of his woman. And of you.”

Cole cast his glance away. And Sirius was quiet, letting his hands stroke up his thighs. He pressed his lips to Cole’s stomach, and looked up at him expectantly, “Do you still want your reward?”

Cole took a moment, looking down at him before nodding, “Yes.”

Sirius’s eyes regained their familiar sparkle as he grinned. His lips pressed against Cole’s stomach again, starting a little trail further down until his lips fell to the tip of his student’s member. Cole bit his tongue and watched with excited interest as Sirius’s lips descended over him. His eyes widened as Sirius’s hand wrapped around him and his tongue circled his very tip, probing underneath his foreskin. His mouth opened in a suppressed gasp, his fingers twisting in Sirius’s hair as he began stroking his shaft while suckling softly at the head.

“Have you done this often?” Cole finally managed to ask. He was fully erect and Sirius had removed his mouth, instead using his hands, looking intent on doing a good job.

“I enjoy doing this, if that’s what you’re really asking,” Sirius looked up at him. “It’s one of my favorite things to do with another man. Now, why don’t you just lay back,” he pushed himself up out of the water to kneel on the ledge, and pressed his palms against Cole’s stomach, “and just enjoy?”

The tile floor felt cold against his skin, but he didn’t let it bother him as Sirius’s warm mouth enveloped him again. His entire mind was focused on that mouth…the pleasant way he used his teeth and lips. The way his hands felt against his thighs.

“Sirius?” The voice caused Cole to jerk back up and Sirius laughed, pulling him close into his arms, shielding him from the servant’s eyes, even though they both knew that if there had been anything to see, he would have seen it already.

“What is it, Arwan?”

Arwan replied, and Sirius sighed. Cole looked confused, as he listened to their banter, frustrated that he couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“What’s wrong?” He asked after Arwan had disappeared again.

“Xenos from the ephors is outside, he wants to speak to me. I assume about my mentoring you… Why don’t you finish getting clean. I’ll send in Arwan for you if you like.”

“That’s okay, I can do it myself.”

Sirius leaned forward as he pulled himself out of the water. His breath felt warm against Cole’s ear, “Stay hard for me. I’ll be back to finish in a few minutes.” He ruffled Cole’s hair as he walked away, pausing only long enough to pull a towel around his waist.

Once he was alone, Cole went to work scrubbing himself clean. Dirt still clung to his skin from rolling around in the wrestling ring for such a long time. He dunked under the water and scrubbed his hair with his fingers to loosen the sand. He was scrubbing the wet cloth down his throat as Sirius slid back into the room, looking annoyed.

“Are you clean now?” Sirius asked, holding an arm out to him. Cole nodded, taking Sirius’s hand and letting him pull him up out of the bath. Sirius smiled, pulling him close. “Good, you know how to listen. …Now, about your reward,” His fingers slid down Cole’s sides as he knelt down in front of him again, starting exactly where he had left off. His arm snaked around Cole’s waist, and he used his free hand to stroke his length while he used his mouth and tongue to work the tip.

“Sirius…” Cole’s fingers pulled through Sirius’s hair, coaxing him on. “I think I’m going…” Sirius’s eyes raised with interest, but he didn’t remove his mouth. “Sirius, I’m almost, I’m going to…” Sirius didn’t say a word, but his mouth turned in a mischievous grin as his removed his mouth to lap his tongue along Cole’s length. “Sirius!” His mouth dropped open as Sirius’s mouth devoured him just as his body peaked. His muscles tightened, and his arms wrapped around Sirus’s head for stability as he rocked forward. His breathing came out in heavy pants, and he slowly regained his composure. Sirius lifted his head away, pressing his mouth against Cole’s stomach. He stood back up, and pulled Cole close to kiss him softly on the mouth. The younger boy could taste himself in his mentor’s mouth, and he wasn’t sure if he liked the taste or not. But what he was certain of was that he had liked the experience itself.

“Was that satisfactory?” Sirius brushed Cole’s hair off his face. He smiled as Cole nodded. “Good. Why don’t you get dressed and get off to your lessons?” He squeezed Cole’s backside, and spoke quietly in his ear. “We’ll get together for another lesson tomorrow.”