by John Goode
“You wanna hang out in the quad until then?” he asked, sounding a little too eager.
I ignored the tone and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
We bought a couple of drinks and found a place on the grass. “So how did you meet the supermodel?” he asked after a few minutes.
“Please don’t let him hear you say that,” I replied, smiling. “I would never hear the end of it. To answer your question, he asked me to help him with his history grades.”
“Kinky,” Teddy said, taking a drink. “I’ve seen that porno.”
I coughed a little. “It wasn’t like that; we just happened to connect.”
“Connect above or below the belt?”
The smile slid off my face. “For your information, we didn’t have sex until we were dating for almost three months.”
He looked at me in disbelief. “You had that guy after you and you waited three months before jumping his bones? You’re braver than I thought.”
“Nice quote, but for someone who claims everyone else is shallow, you sure do seem to fixate on people’s looks.”
Teddy shrugged. “And people who are starving fixate on what other people get to eat. It’s the nature of the world.”
It took me half a second to decipher his words. “So you think you aren’t attractive, so you’re obsessed about the way other people look? How does that work?”
“Easy, I’m not attractive,” he said with all the finality of an SAT question.
Teddy is a gay black man. He would be considered:
A. Ugly
B. Fugly
C. Hideous
D. What does it matter? He’s black.
“Why do you think that?” I asked, finishing my Pepsi.
“Years of observational data,” he said, sounding more sad than bitter. “If you think being gay is bad, try being a minority in a minority and see how much fun it is. The only people who even give me a second’s notice are the size queens who want to believe all black men have big dicks.” He glanced over at me. “Do not ask.”
I held my hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going to ask a thing.”
“I run like a girl—no, that’s not true, I know a ton of girls who run better than I do. I run like the spaz I am, sports bore the shit out of me, and being smart doesn’t seem to be the milkshake that will bring the boys to my yard.”
I chuckled at that, and he looked over and tried to look pissed but couldn’t hold it. We both laughed for a few seconds and I asked, “Well, have you tried dressing less like Urkel?”
He pulled up a clump of grass and tossed it at me. “I’ll have you know this is a carefully crafted ensemble that is worn less for attention and more for identification. I would hate for someone to think I am a normal person and not the raging geek I actually am.”
“It’s a defense mechanism that makes sure people won’t find you attractive so at least you can blame your clothes rather than yourself.” He stopped in his tracks. “I know. I had a hoodie back in high school that was bulletproof as well.”
“And what happened?” Teddy asked.
I smiled and thought of Robbie and the box of clothes he’d dropped off at my doorstep and the hours and hours of arguing over how to dress properly. It had been like a gay version of My Fair Lady with Olivia Newton-John supplying the music.
“I had a friend pull me out from under my rock and show me there were better ways of presenting myself. You know, there’s nothing stopping you from reinventing yourself. This is college.”
“So what am I supposed to use this time for? Experiment with women?” He saw I wasn’t going to allow him to deflect, and he sighed. “And what if, Mr. Foster Texas, I reinvent myself and people still aren’t attracted to me?”
“There are two answers to that,” I said, thinking it over. “The first, and the serious one, is that this isn’t about making other people like you—it’s about you learning to like you.”
He motioned with his hands. “And the other, less Dear Abby one?”
“If you don’t like it, then simply regenerate again.”
He shook his head. “You did not just try to nerd me.”
“I did and it worked.”
He nodded. “It did at that. So where do we start?”
“Honestly? With the bow tie.”
“Bow ties are cool!” he exclaimed, shocked.
“Maybe on Matt Smith, and maybe on special occasions, but for just another day at class, it’s a little Darren Criss trying too hard.”
“Ugh,” he said, pulling the tie off. “You had to invoke the dreaded G word.”
“In all fairness I didn’t say the show that will not be named, just implied it.”
“Bad enough,” he said, stuffing it in his pocket. “What else?”
“How married to those nut huggers are you?”
“I’m really going to hate this, aren’t I?”
I smiled and nodded. “Oh yeah.”
Brad
IT WAS close to four by the time I was done for the day. The gym had cycled from the older guys who were there during school hours to younger guys in the afternoon. Some were getting off work and seemed to be rushing to get a workout in before five. Colt was still over in a corner talking some guy up; he had ignored me the rest of the day, which was fine with me.
“So we good?” I asked Todd as I tossed my towel into a bin.
“Better than good. We, my dear, are perfect. Those hags ate you up and are going to be drooling for more.”
I didn’t say anything, but I must have made a face.
“Look, sweetie, you have a body to die for, a face that most would kill for, and a dick that people would cut others for. Those skills have three professions that need them: personal trainer, bartender, and stripper. You seem to have way too much of an attitude to strip, you’re too young to bartend, so that leaves this. Now you can get a shit-ton of cash for being pretty and letting old fags stare at you, or you can resist on principal and live bagging groceries. During which, by the way, people will still be staring at your ass, but you’ll make less money. You’re attractive and young. Get over it and enjoy the moment.” He flung an imaginary lock of hair out of his face. “Trust me, I wish I had when I was your age.”
“It’s just…,” I began to say.
He opened the register and pulled out two twenties and handed them to me. “Will this help?”
“It’s not the money,” I stammered.
He put another twenty on top. “It might not be about the money, but look at it this way. You can take your girlfriend out to dinner and fuck all the gay cooties out of your system.”
I was about to tell him I was gay when Colt walked up to the counter. “So you finally off the clock?” he asked me.
“Yeah, just finished,” I said, grabbing the bills and stuffing them into my gym bag.
“So look,” he said slowly. “I know I came off like a jerk earlier. It’s just I assumed you were gay and… well, that was stupid of me.” I glanced over at him. “Look at you. No way you’d be gay. Anyway, I was wondering if you need a workout partner. I’m trying to get to the next level, and it’s hard because most of the guys in here are just tourists and not here to really work out.”
I resisted the urge to say he was in fact a tourist himself and instead just nodded. “Yeah, I understand.”
“When do you plan on working out, like, for yourself?” he asked.
“I was planning on coming in before my shift.”
Todd perked up. “Well then, that kills two birds with one cock.” He slid a set of keys over to me. “You can come, open up, work out, get sweaty, and have the place open by nine, and I can stay home and get my beauty sleep.”
Colt glanced over at Todd. “You could go into a coma and it wouldn’t help you.”
“I hope you get raped by wild dogs, you little shit.”
Colt just gave him a grin. “Still better than having to do you and your friends.”
“So I can come in early and ju
st work out?” I asked, ignoring their insults.
“As long as the place is ready to go at nine, you can sleep here for all I care.” Todd paused and leaned across the counter. “But if you’re going to sleep here, let me know and I’ll hook up some cameras.”
“So if I meet you here around seven, we can work out?” Colt asked like I was offering free ice cream.
“I’ll actually get here around six so I can get my cardio and abs out of the way at the same time.”
“Watch out, Colt,” Todd said snidely. “This one is going to out-jock you.”
“I can be here at six,” he said like it was an auction.
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” I said, not certain what just happened.
“Perfect,” Todd said, clapping his hands. “I get to go out tonight and party.”
“See you at six, man,” Colt said, smiling and walking away.
I didn’t remember agreeing to anything.
Kyle
SO I agreed to meet Teddy after class on Wednesday. We were going to go out shopping for a new image for him. I was pretty blown away; not only had I made a new friend, but I was going to be the one showing him how not to be a nerd, which was all new to me. I texted Robbie, who just sent, like, four texts of Bwahahahahahaha back at me until I told him to go fuck off. He sent me a fifth text saying he would call me later; he was in the middle of something.
I want to point out, whatever that something was, it hadn’t stopped the first four texts of Bwahahahahahaha. I couldn’t say my friends didn’t have priorities.
When I got home, Brad was there, shirtless, on the couch. He was still in his stripper shorts, talking excitedly on the phone. He waved at me as I put my stuff away. Whatever he was describing, he was excited as he said it came out of nowhere and he was pretty sure it was a promotion. I changed my shirt as he finished his call; he looked over at me and said, “My mom says hi.”
“Hi, Mrs. Graymark,” I yelled back.
Brad listened for a second and then blushed a little. “Mom,” he said in a low voice. “I am not going to tell him that.”
“Tell me what?” I said eagerly, grabbing at his phone.
He pivoted away, but he was shirtless and vulnerable, which meant, by our own Geneva Conventions, tickle warfare was fair game. He yelped and tried to jump off the couch to escape, but I grabbed the edge of his shorts and held on. There was a ripping sound as the seam tore and… um… and the rest of Brad fell out. “Kyle!” he screamed, trying to cover himself and to keep talking on the phone at the same time.
I died. I mean literally ceased to draw breath, I was laughing so hard.
“Mom, I’ll call you back,” he said quickly. “Nothing. Tell Dad I love him.”
He hit End before she could ask another question.
“I cannot believe you ripped my shorts!” he complained, just before he realized that standing naked in front of me was nothing new. Instead he tore the rest of it off. I watched, enjoying the show.
“What did your mom say to tell me?” I asked, grinning.
“It wasn’t worth ruining my shorts over,” he pouted.
“Well, from the way those shorts gripped your junk, they were from, what? From tenth grade, easily? So they were due to be retired.”
“I got those junior year and they fit fine all day, for your information.”
I opened my mouth to say something when the door opened quickly and Mrs. Phan took a half step. “Is everything okay? We heard a scream and—”
And she realized Brad had turned around in shock.
“Oh,” she said, not averting her eyes at all from Brad’s naked body. “Well, I see things here are… healthy. I am sorry.” And she backed out of the room, eyes still plastered to Brad’s body.
I fell off the couch, now crying from laughter.
“Oh my God! I just got eye-fucked by our landlady,” Brad said, sounding like he was going to be sick.
“Least we know if things get tough, you can always just trade sex for rent,” I said through gasping laughs.
“One of us has too many clothes on,” he said, dropping on me, pinning my arms to the carpet.
“The door’s unlocked,” I said, feeling his body press against mine.
“Well, let’s start working on that free month of rent.”
There was something completely liberating about having sex in the living room in the middle of the afternoon with the front door unlocked. No parents to come rushing in, no distractions, just him and me and our ever-present need for each other. No matter how often we had sex—and so far it had been at least twice a day, once in the morning before our shower and again after the lights went out to make sure we drifted off—there was always a hunger for more. In fact, Saturday night we fucked for, like, two hours. I almost passed out for an hour or so, and when I got up to go to the bathroom and saw him sleeping nude… I wanted him again.
Thankfully when I woke him up, he wanted it too.
Even now, tired, hungry, and badly wanting to rinse off the day’s sweat, all I could think of was hearing him moan in ecstasy with me. Since we were our only sexual partners, we hadn’t been using condoms, which was kind of a good thing because I’m pretty sure by now we would have gone through at least a box, if not more. We had become aware of what each other enjoyed early on, but these last few days, without the distraction of getting caught or interrupted, we had really explored those depths, and I knew exactly how to make him go crazy.
I knew when he was close from the way he panted my name, the way his legs would tighten around my waist, the look on his face as he clenched his eyes shut and bit his bottom lip to keep from screaming. Watching him explode was almost as pleasurable as getting him there, and no matter how far away I might have been before he climaxed, I always followed within seconds.
Today was different, though.
He was way into it, most likely a reflection of his good news, whatever it might be. He was also still pumped up from his day at the gym, and the way the setting sun shone on his sweaty muscles made him look like a freaking god. He had me sitting on the floor, my back against the couch as he faced me, pretty much doing all the work while I watched him grunt. Once he found the perfect angle, I heard him call out to God and throw his head back in delirious pleasure. I could see the freckles on his shoulders from summer after summer under the hot Texas sun and wanted badly to taste them. The only sound was the slapping of our flesh and the jingle of his necklace as it slid from pec to pec when he moved up and down.
Normally I wouldn’t go into such detail, but I have a purpose.
In the middle of all this, I was struck by how incredibly beautiful he was, and it was surprising. I mean, I knew Brad was hot, sure, but for the past year the things inside were so powerful to me that I had honestly stopped looking at the outside. But Teddy’s words had gotten under my skin, so I looked at him and realized Teddy was dead wrong, because if I focused on exactly how stunning he was, I could have spent all my time wondering how long it would take for him to dump me. I reached up and grabbed his face and pulled him closer and kissed him. How this… perfect person had chosen me to be with I would never know, but I did know I wasn’t going to waste a second with him.
Because there was no way this was going to last.
Kyle
OH, STOP it.
Let me guess, typical Kyle, always thinking the worst, right? Well, a couple of things. One, I’m in this airport alone, aren’t I? Two, what happened? He ended up meeting more of his own kind, and what did he do? I know I’m not there yet, but goddammit… I hate being right.
Brad
SO ONE second I was on the phone with my mom, telling her that I got a job and I was almost the opening manager, and the next I was naked on the floor with Kyle.
I wish there was a way I could show you what he looks like when he forgets who he thinks he’s supposed to be and just goes with it. The way his eyes become piercing and full of passion, the way he doesn’t slump his shoulders forward because he
thinks being tall just makes him stand out. The firmness in his hands as he grips my waist and pulls me down to him… I mean, it’s like he’s a whole other person.
To me he’s the guy I’m head over heels in love with.
I’m just saying, if you think you know Kyle, you don’t know shit until you see him fuck. I just wish he could be this guy all the time: confident, aggressive, taking charge and not afraid to hurt someone. He spent so much time being afraid of being noticed that his first instinct is to just shrink down and be quiet… except when we’re having sex. Only then does he give himself permission to take the kid gloves off and go for it.
And it drives me crazy.
I mean, sure, I act it up a bit because I know he loves watching me react, and that’s cool ’cause I love the way he watches me squirm, but frankly the boy is amazing in bed, and I don’t think he knows it.
When we were finished, we both needed a shower, which of course led to a little rubbing and some more kissing, which might have led to another round if I hadn’t said, “So I got keys to the gym.”
And he gave me a weird look.
“On your first day?”
“Well, kinda my second.” I replied quickly.
“They gave you keys to unlock the place by yourself on the second day?” He pulled away from me a little.
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“You don’t think that’s weird?” he asked, the water rolling down our bodies in no way making him look any less pissed.
“No, why should it?”
“Because he doesn’t know you from Adam. What if you’re a criminal or a crackhead and just take everything? Why would he trust you so quickly?”
Crackhead?
“Maybe he can tell I’m trustworthy,” I said a little defensively.
He scoffed and turned the water off. “Right.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked as he got out of the shower.
“Nothing,” he said from under the towel.
I grabbed one and began to dry off. “Nothing my ass. You have something to say, come out with it, Stilleno.”