***
Simon sat at the edge of their couch, nervously chewing his fingers, careful not to do any real damage. For what seemed like the fifth time that afternoon, he carefully arranged the magazines and repositioned the flower pots in anticipation of Ian’s arrival. It had been an hour since he had sent that text. What was keeping him?
Simon nearly jumped up from his chair as he heard the doorbell. Olivia peeked around the corner from her bedroom, and gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, frantically motioning him to the door. She mimicked zipping up her lips, placed her index finger in front of her mouth, and with a final wink, she gently closed her bedroom door to give them some privacy. Simon smiled at the show of support and realized she gave him a little boost in confidence. Just the right amount that he needed.
Simon stood by the front door, and looked through the peephole. To Simon’s surprise, Ian was supported by crutches. But despite his compromised state, he still looked as adorable as ever. Sporting light stubble, Ian was wearing a tight-fitting pair of light blue jeans and a Ridge U t-shirt tightly hugging his broad shoulders and chiseled pecs. Simon felt his legs slightly buckle under the strong physiological reaction he was having to seeing Ian. He took a deep breath, and opened the door, wondering if he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.
“Simon! Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I’d give you a hug, but I don’t know how you feel about getting intimate with crutches.” Simon laughed, grateful at Ian’s attempt to make the awkwardness a little bit lighter between the two of them. Simon felt a bit more confident.
“That’s no problem. A pat on the back will do.” Simon smiled at Ian, and helped him into the living room, where Ian, with a little bit of trouble, managed to seat himself on the living room couch.
“So hey, Simon. Listen. That text you sent me. It was kind of out of the blue, but not really unwelcome at all. I’m just curious, what brought it up? Is there anything you want to tell me?” Ian’s voice quivered ever so slightly. It would have been clearly audible to anyone else, but Simon, suddenly finding himself caught up in a whirl of self-consciousness and uncertainty, found himself doing what he thought was damage control. Nerves overcame him, and he felt himself slip back into his comfort zone to protect himself.
“Oh, that text? It’s a funny story, Ian, but I sent that to you by mistake. It was meant for somebody else, whose name also begins with ‘I’. Total slip-up. You must have been freaked out, right?” Simon found himself babbling, but paused nearing the end of his speech to see if Ian took the bait.
“No, actually. Not at all. I would not have minded if that text was meant for me.” Ian stared Simon down, challenging him to stick by his bogus story.
Simon, feeling overwhelmed, found himself copping out again.
“Was there any reason besides that text that you came over to see me?” Simon decided that he didn’t have the nerve to lie to Ian’s face twice.
Ian let out a nearly imperceptible sigh, his eyes momentarily betraying the shadow of disappointment, and then, squaring his jaw, he looked Simon straight in the eye.
“It’s been brought to my attention that Zuko Mavuso recently left the uni, with no explanation. I heard some rumors that he has been experiencing some trouble with some of his roommates, and that concerns me. Ridgemont University can’t afford to let students from less advantaged communities slip through the cracks. And after I poked around a bit, it seems like things aren’t adding up. I know I’m on my way out at the paper, but Zuko was a bright, talented kid, with lots of potential, and the piece he wrote for the online edition was excellent. I want to leave a legacy behind that I’m proud of. I know you and he are close. Do you know anything? Is there any way the Weekly could help with figuring this out?”
Simon was a bit startled by Ian’s sudden turnaround, assuming his position of authority over Simon again, but he resolved not to let Ian’s businesslike attitude get to him.
“I’m glad this has been brought to your attention. Yes, Zuko did disappear from campus. And you’re right, we are close. I’m concerned as well and tried to do some research. You remember the case I tried investigating last year that sounded similar to this? I think it might be a pattern. In fact, I didn’t come up with much when researching earlier, but something did catch my eye. Why don’t I help you up and we can go to my computer in my room?”
Simon approached Ian, pulled him up by his big, commanding hand, and draped his arm around his shoulder. Ian let out a wince of pain, and Simon readjusted his hold to minimize discomfort. Simon ached to be this close to Ian at all times. Why had he been so afraid of acknowledging that he meant to send that text? Why was Ian’s confidence so overwhelming for him? He felt the heat emanating from Ian’s body, he could feel Ian’s heartbeat, and the warm comfort of Ian’s strong body resting tightly against his own. To Simon’s disappointment, they reached his bedroom door too quickly, and he reached over to turn the doorknob.
And there it was. Ian’s spitting image, adorning his wall. Only this time, Simon felt that the model’s facial expression was one of a sneering taunt. Not only did faux Ian help him send that text, now he was happily revealing himself as Simon’s object of affection.
“Well, lookie here. I guess we all need to keep our juices flowing somehow, right?” Ian let out his characteristic casual, laid-back laugh.
“Uh, yeah. What, that poster over there? Just an actor I like.” Simon let out a forced, awkward belt of laughter, and his cheeks reddened with humiliation.
“I hear you.” Ian winked at him, and Simon gratefully noted that he didn’t seem to question the glaring similarities in appearance between the model and Ian. Until…
“Hmmm. He looks ever so slightly familiar. But hey, I’m sure it’s just my imagination.” Ian nudged Simon playfully in the ribs with his elbow. Simon feigned ignorance and approached his desk, where his PC was readily awaiting his attention.
Ian was cognizant of Simon’s face-saving tactics, and decided to let him get away with it just for a little bit longer.
“So hey, let me have a look to see what you found. I want us to jump on this and make it happen. I want to go out with a bang and I want you to do this story with me.”
Simon smiled shyly, and opened up a few of the news articles that he had stored on his browser’s tabs.
“In the case last year, one gay student was harassed at a male residence, and you know we were granted an interview with him to hear his side of the story, and then a few days later he disappeared without a trace. I mean, doesn’t this sound familiar to you?” Simon looked at Ian hopefully, and found himself wishing that he wasn’t so desperate for Ian’s approval.
“Definitely. I remember how hard you worked to win his trust and to schedule the interview. And I remember you were so crushed when you didn’t hear from him and the story fell flat. Poor tiger.” Ian smiled lightly, and placed his hand carefully on Simon’s shoulder, giving it a firm, yet gentle squeeze. Tiger?
The mood suddenly became very heavy, and Ian’s voice was soft and warm as he stared at Simon intensely: “Simon, I want to ask you something. Before we continue with the story. When was the last time that you felt your heart tugging at you, pushing you to do something crazy, willing you ahead, but your mind, your rationality, holds you back? I mean, it’s so tempting, you just want to reach out, but you stop yourself, you know?” Ian was looking at Simon with an urgency, and even Simon couldn’t deny at this point that there was genuine desire and longing for... something.
And then Simon saw black.
Chapter 10
Hot Off the Press (Ridgemont University Book 1) Page 11