Out in the Open

by A. J. Truman

Greg’s tongue pried open his teeth; his hot breath swirled around in Ethan’s mouth. Ethan shivered with delight. His ravenous self broke free, and he started unbuttoning Greg’s shirt. Greg got the hint and worked from the top. He caressed Ethan’s fingers when they met at the center before ripping his shirt off. Ethan dragged his hands down that chiseled chest and hard abs.

  Greg steadied himself on his elbows, hovering above Ethan. His flared biceps framed Ethan’s face.

  “You’re really cute,” Ethan said.

  “You stole my line.” There was that smirk. That dimple. Old friends for Ethan.

  Greg’s large-and-in-charge hands traveled under Ethan’s hoodie. He faced a button-down shirt and a white undershirt tucked into his pants. “How many layers do you have on? It’s only October.”

  “Here.” Ethan sat up and whipped off all layers like a live gif.

  Greg pressed his bare chest against him, the warmth of his skin soothing Ethan like soup. His fingers couldn’t get enough of those ridged muscles—a Braille novel he never wanted to end.

  He mashed his hips against Ethan, and his cock dug into Ethan’s stomach. Greg reached between them and unsheathed both of their blunt instruments. He held their dicks in his hand, rolled them against each other. Like he’d done in the library, back when Ethan couldn’t believe what he was doing. Now he couldn’t stop.

  Greg stroked both of them in his greedy palm. Ethan’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. He arched his back. Each stroke, each touch from Greg’s strong, calloused hand sent Ethan spasming in pleasure.

  Greg removed Ethan’s pants. The chilled air sent goosebumps crawling across his thighs. He was completely naked on his bed. His cock got harder from the freedom. Greg stripped off his own pants, and Ethan slapped his ass.

  Because he could. He was ravenous, and there was no going back.

  Ethan’s teeth chattered, emotion overwhelming him, and Greg ran a thumb along his jawline.

  “Folly, what is it?”

  “I think I’m falling for you, Greg.” A set of tears fell from Ethan’s eyes. He never thought he’d get the chance to say that to someone and have it come out so easily.

  “You think?” Greg brushed away his tears and bore into him with those deep brown eyes. “I think, too.”

  They moved onto their sides, cocks circling each other. Ethan never wanted to blink again. He didn’t want to miss one nanosecond of this moment.

  “I think we should…”

  “Are you sure?” Greg asked. No smirk. This meant something to him, Ethan thought. Ethan hoped.

  Ethan knew.

  “Yes.” He wanted Greg body and soul, and in that moment, he truly believed Greg felt the same. He wasn’t the player. He was the guy who snuck into Ethan’s dorm room to apologize. He was the guy who wanted to watch a movie with him. He was the guy who’d christened him Folly.

  Ethan retrieved a condom and trial-size pouch of lube that he gotten at a LGBT group kickoff meeting. Safe sex: always be prepared.

  He handed Greg the condom, figuring he’d want to be in control and, in fact, wanting Greg to take over him. That’s what Ethan loved about him—that he always had a plan. Plus, he wanted to feel Greg’s thick cock inside of him, planting his flag.

  Greg got them all set up and positioned Ethan’s legs on his shoulders. His thumb smoothed away a stray hair falling into Ethan’s face, and he plunged two slicked-up fingers inside him, opening him up in more ways than one. Ethan took deep calming breaths to stymie the pain, but soon the pleasure and anticipation brought a smile to his lips.

  “Let me know if it hurts. I want both of us to enjoy this.”

  Ethan sucked in a deep breath as Greg inserted himself. He gasped and grabbed the bedspread.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now’s not the time to lie to me.”

  “It’s just…new. New is good.”

  Greg slid out, then back in slowly. It was a weird sensation for Ethan. He was being filled up, but after the initial shock, it made him extra-sensitive. It enveloped him. Every inch of his skin tingled at Greg’s touch.

  “Keep going,” Ethan said.

  Greg thrust into him, and Ethan was just as turned on by watching Greg’s reaction as he was by what Greg was doing. He went a little faster. Then slower. Then faster again. His triceps bulged above Ethan. Sweat beaded at his forehead and dripped onto Ethan’s chest.

  “You feel so good,” Greg breathed out. He spat onto his hand and slicked up Ethan’s dick.

  Ecstasy rushed through Ethan, levitating him off the bed. He went numb, not knowing what to do except enjoy the ride. Greg took his hands and threw them over his head. They held onto the bedpost together as Greg pumped harder. Their comingled sweat glued their chests together.

  Greg had full control of his body, pushing his hands harder against Ethan’s, pumping deeper inside him. Ethan would probably be sore tomorrow, but he thought of it as having a really (really) good workout.

  Greg flicked wet hair out of his face. Those dark eyes tore through every layer of him, shoving him closer to the edge. He stroked Ethan with his free hand. Every grunt Greg uttered, that call of desire brought Ethan closer to coming.

  Greg sped up his hips and his hand. Everything went at full speed, and he was on the verge of erupting. Ethan knew that about him. It made him excited as all hell.

  “Fuck. I’m coming,” Greg mumbled. He used both hands to hold Ethan’s against the bedpost. Their chests glided against each other’s, Greg’s face mere breaths from his. The angle let him shove his pulsing dick deeper into Ethan’s warm opening.

  Ethan’s own orgasm rumbled through his body, too. His dick wasn’t being touched, but it was the moment and Greg’s arms over his and his panting breath on his neck and his skin slick with sweat sliding atop Ethan and the thought of Greg exploding. It was too much and not enough. The orgasm was a lit fuse at the end of a cannon.

  “Yes, yes,” Ethan whispered.

  He shot his hot load all over his stomach. Seconds later, Greg pulled out and came all over Ethan as well.

  They caught their breaths. Ethan couldn’t move. He would need a parachute to get down from this stupendous high. Greg passed him a box of tissues to wipe off his stomach.

  “I figured you didn’t want me making a mess on your comforter,” Greg said.

  He knew him so well.

  Φ

  After they toweled themselves off, they spooned in Ethan’s bed. Evening settled over Browerton. Ethan forgot there was a tomorrow. Life could’ve ended right then. Greg ran his fingers down his forearm. If he’d had more supplies, Ethan might’ve made Greg go for another round.

  “Can I ask a question?”

  Greg pointed like a teacher in class. “Yes, you in the back row, giving your classmate a hand job.”

  Ethan blushed. Yes, he had done that. “So, for the record, you’re not straight?”

  He shook his head. “I wish I came as hard with girls as I do with you.”

  That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to Ethan, despite the graphicness. A warm feeling spread through him.

  “I’m sorry about the party, Ethan. I liked your pose, for the record.”

  Ethan gave a hearty laugh. At the time, his drunken self thought had it was sexy.

  “It’s going to take some time,” Greg said. He turned Ethan to face him. “This is all really new for me. It’s going to be a huge change. I have a reputation for being a bit of a ladies’ man. And it’s not even true.”

  Ethan sat up. “It’s not?”

  Greg wavered. “Before you, I was a virgin.”

  “What?!” Ethan’s eyes nearly fell out of his head. “But you’re a fraternislut. You had a threesome your freshman year.”

  “I got a little wild when I got to school. I tried to suppress being gay, thought if I screwed around with girls, I’d forget about it. And what can I say? Girls like me.” Ethan smacked his chest. “I got drunk with these senior girls, a
nd they both gave me slobs. So not a threesome technically.”

  “Technically.” That was still two more girls than Ethan had hooked up with ever.

  “But see, everyone thinks that I’m a player, even though I haven’t gotten with any girls since then.” Greg quickly added, “By choice. I could’ve gotten with lots of girls. As stated previously, girls like me.”

  Ethan smacked his chest again. “Why are they still calling you a player?”

  “Because it stuck freshman year. That’s my reputation, whether I like it or not. And honestly, I liked it. It gave me this air of coolness whenever I walked into a party or into my frat house. I already had this built-in public persona. So I never corrected anyone.”

  “And you still don’t.”

  Greg had no comment.

  Ethan tangled his fingers in Greg’s hair and traced the outline of that famous smirk. “Sahil isn’t your roommate. You lied.”

  Greg gave him a puppy-dog look. “I didn’t want to fool around in the house. It’s too risky.”

  Ethan’s fingers traveled down to Greg’s broad, mountain-range shoulders. “I think your brothers will be cooler with this, with us, than you think. Sahil was really accepting when I told him I was gay. He high-fived me.”

  “It’s different. You’re not his frat brother. It’s a different culture up there.”

  “Things are changing. They won’t all react like your big brother, the one who…you know.”

  Greg’s shoulders tensed up. Ethan knew not to push, but he had just given himself to Greg. He believed he had a right to the truth.

  “You really liked him, didn’t you?”

  Greg nodded at the blankets. “His name was Mason. It wasn’t some out-of-nowhere event. There was buildup. I know he felt it.” He heaved out a sigh. Ethan could tell unearthing this memory was tough. “I don’t know what I expected the next morning, but it wasn’t being told to shut the fuck up. I didn’t expect to get cut out of his life. Maybe he was right, though. Maybe some stuff should stay private.”

  Ethan heart fell a few notches. “Like us?”

  “I don’t know, Folly. I’m still figuring this shit out.” Greg tried to spoon him, but Ethan pulled away.

  He sat up. “Aren’t you tired of being two different Gregs?”

  “Are you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Greg leaned against the wall. “Have you told your friends about us? About our fun activities?”

  “I told Lorna.”

  “I’m not talking about Lorna. Your other friends. The ones we saw at the movies. Do they know? Or are you hiding me from them?”

  Frustration stifled Ethan’s chest. Their perfect moment had evaporated. “That’s different.”

  “Is it now?” For someone opposed to being a lawyer, Greg knew how to shift into interrogation mode all too easily. “Are you the same person around them and Lorna and me, or are there different Ethans?”

  The crystal clear truth struck Ethan. He was hiding a part of himself to fit in. He was no different. Greg just did a better job of it. He wondered if that’s why he always felt distant with his friends. He caused it. Ethan worked so hard to blend in that he became invisible.

  Greg enjoyed the moral victory. “Looks like we’re each other’s dirty little secrets.”

  “So what’s your plan?” Ethan asked. “Are you going to keep me your dirty little secret forever?”

  “Are you? Just give me time, okay?” Greg massaged Ethan’s shoulder. His rough hands knew how to work. “Let’s not ruin this.”

  Ethan tried to enjoy it. He tried to keep the unease seeping into his mind at bay, but he got the scary feeling that this was their new status quo. Ethan thought he would be ecstatic when they began hooking up in private. He never realized that now, this made their relationship even more of a secret.

  CHAPTER twenty-seven

  In Con Law, Greg rubbed Ethan’s leg and stroked his forearm. When he smiled at him, a thoughtful stare laid just beneath his smirk. The spark of their relationship crackled between them.

  Until somebody turned around.

  The annoying girl in front craned her neck, probably curious why things were so quiet. The second her hair swished, Greg flinched back and tucked his hands in his lap. Things had changed, yet they’d also stayed the same. To Ethan, their relationship still reminded him a lot of their arrangement. Which wasn’t horrible, but it didn’t make him jump anymore.

  A few nights later, Lorna invited Ethan to have dinner with her at her sorority house.

  “Are you sure?” Ethan asked. “It’s okay that I’m not a member?”

  “Well, there’s a reason you’re not a member of my sorority,” Lorna deadpanned. “I’m allowed to bring friends to meals. Tonight is fish tacos.”

  Ethan’s grin stretched across his face. Not because of the fish taco part. Lorna calling him a friend. He supposed they’d been friends this whole time, with or without alcohol.

  Lorna’s sorority was nestled in the corner of the sorority quad, which had a wall around it. A vast difference from the frat quad, which was an open space. Naturally, when the quads were built in the 1800s, the school built the wall to better protect chaste, innocent sorority girls from the ravenous, boner-centric fraternity boys.

  She led Ethan through a living room still decorated as if it was in the 1950s. Ornate, old furniture. Flowery wallpaper. A girl reading on a fainting couch by the fireplace. It was funny to Ethan to think of Lorna fitting in here. Downstairs, the dining area was a step up from the regular dining hall. Silver serving trays held fresh food, and the real silverware was just as classic and well-maintained as the décor.

  “Thanks again for inviting me,” Ethan said.

  “Of course!”

  “Has Jessica said anything to you about me?”

  “That would require her to talk to me. So no.”

  Ethan went up to grab some food. He quickly realized that he had the biggest appetite in this room. His plate was twice as full as those of his tablemates. Some of the girls giggled at his dinner pile.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “Don’t be. This always happens whenever a guy eats with us,” Lorna said. She picked at her taco and poured salsa over it.

  Ethan had a great time at dinner. Besides the delicious food, he really enjoyed spending time with Lorna and her sisters sober. They remembered him from the tailgate and praised his flip cup skills. The table discussed potential Halloween costumes for that weekend. He had never met people over the age of eight who put so much thought into a costume. He talked so much that he couldn’t finish his food. It ached a little to know he had wasted so much time being quiet and not making waves with Jessica and his friends. He wondered how many of these great conversations he’d missed out on in the past.

  Soon enough, Halloween discussion turned to parties. One of Lorna’s sisters, who had cleavage that pulled you in like a tractor beam, turned to Ethan and bit her lip.

  “So, Ethan, I have to ask. Do you have Halloween plans?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Because there’s this off-campus party, and my friend Henry is going to be there. I think you two would really hit it off.”

  Ethan stumbled for an answer. “Um, cool.”

  He locked eyes with Lorna, who seemed to understand immediately. “June, stop trying to play pimp.”

  “Matchmaker!”

  “When you do it, you’re a pimp. Big hat and all.” Lorna held out her hand to June. “I love you dearly, but you have the worst track record when it comes to setting people up.”

  “Fine. I won’t set them up. Ethan, you should still come to the party.”

  Ethan nodded, but it didn’t sit right with him. Technically—very technically—he had a boyfriend. Maybe. Or not. He and Greg had never made anything official, but they’d said they were falling for each other and they’d had sex. Not dirty, drunk, party, fucking sex. Soul-connecting, making-love sex, which had to count for somethi
ng. They were something resembling a potential couple. Only they couldn’t be together in public without a friend buffer. He didn’t know how to explain it to June, to Lorna, to himself.

  What are we?

  He had what he wanted—Greg. He should be happy and stop caring how others perceived him. Still, as he looked down at his one fish taco left, it hit him that he and Greg had never eaten a meal together. How could they be considered a couple? Relationship drama and complications were like Rubik’s Cubes to him.

  Later, Ethan and Lorna were the only ones left at the table, sharing an ice cream sundae. Ethan swirled his spoon in the melted soup at the bottom.

  “What’s wrong?” Lorna asked.

  “Should I stay Greg’s secret?”

  “Do you want my opinion, or do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?” Lorna savored a spoonful of vanilla.

  “He said he needs time. And I get it. You know, coming out isn’t something that happens overnight. So if I have to wait, then I’ll wait, okay?”

  Lorna shot him a look that cut through all of Ethan’s rationalizing.

  “That all makes sense,” she said. “If he had any intention of coming out.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? He doesn’t want to stay in closet. It’s difficult.”

  “Is it for him?” She threw her spoon onto the table. He had never seen her angry. The red in her face seemed to make the red in her hair glow even brighter. “He has everything he wants just the way he wants it. His bros, his double major, his secret boyfriend. Why would he want to rock the status quo?”

  The comment cut Ethan to the quick. Lorna didn’t pull punches, which was great until you found yourself in her crosshairs.

  “Look, I understand coming out is a hard process. I can’t imagine what it’s like, and I don’t believe anyone should be pushed.” Her eyes softened, and she reached out for his hand. “But is he making an effort? Is he trying to work through this? If not for himself, then for you. He can’t expect you to keep quiet forever.”

  Ethan scraped the last bits of chocolate sauce out of the bowl. He liked the excitement of the secrecy, but perhaps that was just a temporary high. It was temporary, not forever. His daydreams about being Greg’s boyfriend never involved him hiding.