CHAPTER 30 — College
Since I’d had my class lineup for some time, Mom had been able to schedule me for a follow up with my doctor during the first week back at school. I left my last class on Thursday and drove to the medical center.
The doctor wasn’t pleased. According to him, I shouldn’t be feeling as much pain in my knee as I was. I was afraid he would say what he did. “You might need another operation.”
The bottom dropped out of my stomach. I wondered if I’d ever heal; if I’d ever be able to run again. The doctor saw the disappointment in my face. “Let’s try more aggressive therapy. I promised your coach at Trinity that I’d work with him, and he’s got a trainer he’s pretty proud of. I’ll call him first thing tomorrow. Let’s give your knee a few more weeks.”
He detailed some exercises that I could do by myself, or with the help of a friend. I knew what friend I had in mind.
. . . . .
I had only been away from Daniel since early Wednesday, but it already seemed like ages. On Friday, I went directly from my last class to the Bronco and headed for Austin. My longing for him wasn’t entirely emotional; we had agreed to not even jerk off until we were together again. I was horny as hell.
The Motel 6 wasn’t hard to find. I parked in the drive and limped on my cane into the lobby. “My cousin’s already checked in,” I told the clerk. I was a little nervous about the subterfuge, but the clerk only looked bored as he handed me a key to the room.
Leaving my books and bag in the car, I found the room and let myself in. Daniel was lying on the bed watching TV in only his briefs and new necklace.
With a wide grin, he rose and came to me, smiling approvingly at my neck chain. He wrapped his arms around me, and nuzzled into my neck, and I wrapped my arms around his bare back. “Hey, Seany,” he said, softly.
“Hey, Danny,” I said, thickly, my cock growing hard against his.
. . . . .
We showered after making love. As Daniel finished drying off, he turned on the TV. Then he climbed onto the bed, stacking the pillows, and laid back to watch. I tossed my towel onto a chair and crawled onto the bed, laying my head on his stomach to watch TV with him.
With one hand, he stroked my hair; the other he rested on my side.
He smelled clean, and his skin was cool under my cheek. I combed my fingers through his tight patch of pubic hair. “So,” I said. “If you’re going to be calling me Seany now, I need to think of a name for you.”
“Stud is fine,” he said.
“I thought of ‘pretty butt’ or ‘honey buns,’” I said. “They are one of your outstanding features.”
“Pretty butt?” he asked.
“Or ‘smart mouth’ or… ‘soft skin,’” I said, kissing his stomach. “Or flat belly.”
“Why not just Danny?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I said. Then I lifted his flaccid cock and laid it up his belly, close to my mouth. “I sure love ‘Little Danny,’” I said, and then kissed his foreskin. I left my lips on the tip of his cock, and slowly sucked him in like a string of spaghetti, pushing back the foreskin with my lips. I loved sucking him when he was soft, though he usually didn’t stay that way long.
He’d only come once, so I wasn’t surprised when he quickly grew hard, his crown extending far past his foreskin. I moved up on him better, opening my throat; sliding a hand under his butt, while I stroked inside his thighs and under his balls with the other hand.
Daniel stopped stroking my hair, resting his hand there. With his other hand, he gently gripped my side. He sighed contentedly at the same time I did.
I sucked gently, casually, enjoying the feel of him in my mouth and the light, sexual scent coming up from between his legs. I really did think his cock was absolutely beautiful.
Intermittently, Daniel stroked my hair and back. I purred, sucking happily. I tickled his balls and played with them. His hips began to rock, mildly. We took our time, enjoying the sensations.
Daniel had always had perfect legs. Slender, but muscled; long for his body. I rubbed his thighs, squeezing them. He squeezed my shoulders and my arm, and combed his fingers through my hair.
Slowly, the movements of his hips increased. I relaxed my throat and let him pump into my mouth. His thrusts became stronger, more definite. He clutched my side and gripped my hair, rocking faster.
I liked doing more of the work, but Daniel was obviously getting close, and just as obviously, he liked it.
Strangely, I wasn’t that hard, not until he was close to coming and his scent grew stronger. His scent could always make me hard. His scent when he was aroused always aroused me.
When he came, I swallowed all that he gave me, and I let him move in my mouth until he was done; then held him there while he softened. He shuddered. And I let him slide from my mouth, and I kissed his belly.
I would have rested there and been happy, even though I was hard. But Daniel pulled on my shoulders, pulling me back and up beside him. He smiled and kissed me. I opened my mouth to him so he could taste. He lingered in the kiss.
Then he smiled and stroked my cheek. “That was nice,” he said.
“I thought so,” I said, stroking his side.
He rubbed the back of my neck. “Now we need to take care of you,” he said.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “I had fun.”
He pushed me on to my back, moving on to me,
dropping a leg between mine. He stroked my hair back from my face and held it
there, his nose touching mine, and he frowned down at me.
“I love sucking your cock, you know that,” I said with a quiet chuckle.
He brushed his lips on mine. “And I love taking care of you,” he said. He kissed me hard, and our bodies melded together. He pressed his cheek against mine. “I love you very much,” he whispered. “Let me take care of you, too.”
I stroked his back with my fingertips. “OK, take care of me,” I whispered.
He kissed the side of my neck and rolled from me to his side. Smiling, laying there on his side, he pulled his knees up to his chest. “Do me this way,” he said.
I knew what he wanted; we’d done it before, and he knew I liked it. It was an intimate, tender way to make love. It fitted our mood. I leaned back and grabbed up the lube we had set on the nightstand. Then I rolled back toward him and lubed his butt and my cock.
Daniel rested on his side, waiting. Lying on my side, facing him at an angle, I moved forward and held my cock at his entrance. Then I pushed in smoothly, all the way, snuggling up to him. I took his top leg over my hip and put his other leg, on the bed, under my side.
I pressed myself into him, and we reached for each other, pulling each other close enough for him to stroke my face, neck, and shoulders. I cradled his cheek with my hand and slid my other hand to his butt, holding him to me; and I smiled at him. “You feel good,” I said.
He ran a finger over my lips. “I missed you this week.” He kissed my palm. “Silly, huh? Just three days.”
I shook my head, kissing his fingertip. “I couldn’t stop thinking of you,” I told him, and moved my hips back slowly, and then in slowly, pressing in. I watched his face as I did.
He smiled, heavy lidded. “It feels good,” he said.
I moved again, slowly, very slowly. He rested a hand on my side and kissed my palm again. I caressed his cheek. “It just keeps getting better,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he said.
Taking my hand from his butt, I reached between us to fondle him. He was still semi-hard, or maybe he was growing hard again. I rested my arm over his leg and played with him.
He moved his hand from my side and joined mine, and the two of us stroked his cock and fondled his balls.
We talked about classes and how much homework we had. We talked about plans for the next two days. And I kept moving in him, enjoying him, enjoying his body.
It seemed all too soon, that I had to clutch his ass and slow down. “I’m almost ready to come,” I told him.
“Go for it,” he said, reaching for my shoulders, pulling me closer.
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer too. “Danny,” I whispered, kissing his neck. “No matter what nicknames I have for you, you know what I’ll always call you when we’re like this?”
“Beloved,” he whispered.
“I can’t believe you’re still into Saturday morning cartoons,” I told him. “Not when there are a couple of perfectly good college football pre-game shows on.
I was on my stomach, and Daniel was sitting on my butt, facing backwards. He had insisted on learning how to help with my therapy while we were both still naked. Reaching down, he grabbed my ankle and carefully pulled my foot upwards, toward him. “Some of the best contemporary drama is on Saturday morning TV, he said.”
“Be careful,” I warned as he pulled my foot farther, “or you’ll have plenty of Saturday morning drama, right here.”
“I’m going slow,” he said. “It’s not hurting is it?”
“Just a little,” I said. “But the way your balls feel lying on my butt more than makes up for it.”
“Hey, we’re being professional here. Behave yourself.”
Later, he flipped me to my back, lifting my leg on his shoulder, and as he leaned forward, his cock and balls came against my butt. “I might like this,” he said.
“If I let you ‘put it in,’” I answered, “you’d give me therapy all day.”
He smiled down at me and leaned even farther forward. His cock against my butt, felt like it was hardening. But then, so was I. But that was partly because of the stretching. Much of the therapy was manipulation, and it felt wonderful to be manipulated.
“Come to think of it,” I said, “you keep doing that all day, and I don’t care where you put it.”
. . . . .
“So what do you think of Eric… your roommate?” Daniel asked as I took a bite of my Egg McMuffin.
I gave a thumbs-up while I chewed.
“Gay, huh?” Daniel said.
“Not hardly,” I said, swallowing. “But he’s cool. He’s a really nice guy. I was afraid he’d be college-jock-stud-asshole, but he’s just a good guy; really friendly.”
“Uh-huh,” Daniel said, eyeing me skeptically. “Just how friendly?”
“He’s not gay, Dan. He’s got a girlfriend… a very, very pretty girlfriend.”
“That’s no guarantee.”
“Trust me,” I said. “He’s straight. I can tell these things.” I winked.
“I did give him a back rub,” I said, and casually looked out the front window of the McDonalds”
“You what?” he asked, kicking me under the table.
“Hey!” I rubbed my shin. “The guy’s a football player. He came in almost dead after practice Thursday evening, and he was sore and all banged up. It was an act of mercy.”
“Dan,” I said with a sigh, “he’s the size of a horse.”
“Yeah, well you like ‘em big. You like Aaron. And you liked Cowboy Bob.”
“Look,” I said, putting down my Egg McMuffin. “I did give him a rub down, but I only told you because it was harmless and I wanted to tease a little. But honest, Dan, Eric is way straight and he’s much bigger than Aaron. And who the hell said I liked Cowboy Bob?”
Daniel leaned back and eyed me suspiciously. “So is he fat?”
“No,” I shook my head. “He’s built like Hercules.”
“Did he like the back rub?”
I leaned back and frowned at Dan. “I think it helped him.”
He nodded. “Did you enjoy it?”
“It was like giving a massage to a rock,” I said.
“Yeah, but did you like it?” Dan asked.
“I didn’t get turned on, if that’s what you mean.”
“Well if he needs rescuing, we do it together,” Dan said.
“Won’t happen,” I assured him. “You know what’s funny, though?”
“Eric says the coach told him that they gave him a brain for a roommate so he could get help with his studies.” I smiled. “I’m a brain.”
Daniel shook his head. “The poor guy’s doomed.”
. . . . .
Matthew and I had met earlier in the week, before I returned to Trinity. Matthew was Daniel’s roommate. And Matthew was a nerd, long before nerds were that common. Guys who were nerdable hadn’t been exposed to computers much yet. But with Matthew, being a nerd was systemic. And he was using advanced education to get better at it.
You could tell where he was in their room by the localized personality vacuum. Physically, he wasn’t unattractive, if he’d just smile. I hadn’t seen him smile. He had black hair, pale skin, and hairy legs. I decided I could get off to hairy legs… on someone else.
At least Matthew hadn’t given Daniel any trouble over the picture he’d hung of him and me. It was the one of us sitting naked on his bed. From the angle the photo was taken, though, he couldn’t be sure we were naked.
Daniel’s dorm was older than mine, though the suite arrangement was similar, with two rooms sharing a bath. Daniel’s suite mates were upperclassmen including one grad student, Lad. Lad was intelligent, argumentative, and one of those guys who was so sold on himself that you felt like there must be something superior to him because he was so convinced of it. I liked him, though. He tried so hard to be a cool intellectual.
There were two other guys rooming with Lad. Jessie and Loren were typical sophomores and frat wannabes. They were nice enough guys, but indistinguishable from thousands of others at UT.
Sam was the one who Daniel wanted me to meet. “He’s been wagging his butt at me since Wednesday,” Daniel told me. “And it’s a cute butt. I’m thinking we might need to do a rescue.”
Sam was a dorm advisor and had his own room. We checked it several times, but Sam was away that weekend. When I frowned at Dan’s persistence, he put an arm over my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll save him for dessert sometime. Just bring your Hill Country Rescue shirt with you.”
“There’s no rush,” I told him, as we left the dorm.
“No,” he said, mussing my hair. “No rush. Just a hell of a long time between weekends… but we’ll manage.”
“Makes for great weekends,” I said.
. . . . .
Daniel joined me in the dressing room. Part of my prescribed “therapy” included hydrotherapy, and my running coach had arranged for a swim coach to supervise me directly. I needed a couple of new swimsuits.
“You should just wear that baggy thing you’ve got,” Daniel had told me.
“Sure, you just want me ugly and frumpy,” I said.
“Only when I’m not around,” he answered.
But he brought only speedos into the dressing room for me and watched with a critical eye while I tried each one on. I was trying for a modest look, and it took a while to get him to agree to one suit that had at least a couple of inches of side seam. Even then, I suspected that he only agreed to that one because the front of it, specifically the pouch, had rainbows of color radiating up over the pouch. The second suit he let me pick was solid black, and had only about an inch of side seam. I just hoped the coach wouldn’t kick me out for nude swimming.
I made Daniel try on a new suit as well, personally adjusting the crotch for him. Technically, it was against the law to try on the swimsuits without underwear, but there was no way these would fit over briefs. And when we both stood in only our swimsuits, we tested them and found that when we moved together, the pouches always touched first, especially the longer we tested them.
. . . . .
Daniel took me on a tour of the campus that afternoon and we had an early supper since we’d skipped lunch. And then we returned to the motel, not because we were horny, but to study.
“It seems a shame,” I said, “to spend money on a motel and then just study.”
Daniel unbuttoned his shirt. “At least we can study naked. And you can suck my cock while you study biology.”
“I’m not taking biology,” I said, pulling off my shirt.
“I know,” he said. “I am.”
I growled and pulled him into my arms, bare chest to bare chest. “Forget that,” I said, “besides, I’m not ready to study.”
Daniel smiled and rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s been a long day.”
. . . . .
That night, I dreamed that Daniel and I ran on the beach, naked, in broad daylight. And the wind blew his hair out behind him. His muscles worked under his skin, which was shiny with a layer of sweat. He smiled as he ran and we watched only each other, while everyone else watched us. We were gods, hair blowing, cocks swinging, running with fluid grace.
I woke to find myself draped over Daniel’s back. We were beginning to sleep together much more than we ever had. But then things had been changing between us; and I liked the changes.
Kissing the back of his neck, I wrapped my arm under his chest and snuggled on.
. . . . .
Driving back to San Antonio the next afternoon, I thought of Linda when I drove through San Marcos. She had called and left her school phone number and address with Colin. So had Ryan. And Colin had faithfully passed them on to me, and given mine to them.
That night, I called Linda, and then I called Ry. It was hard to talk to either very well with Eric in the room, but I needed to keep the calls short anyway. Long distance was expensive.
Afterwards, I helped Eric with Algebra. It was all pretty basic and I worried for him if he needed help this early. But I gave him some pointers. And then Daniel called.
“I miss you already,” he said. “This is going to be such a long, fucking week.”
“Yeah,” I said, turning my back on Eric and lowering my voice. “But it was a great weekend.”
“It was, wasn’t it? And I liked our reading arrangement.”
We had studied while lying naked in opposite directions and used the position to rub and stroke each other.
“Yeah, well I’m not sure how much I’ll retain from my reading,” I said.
“Actually,” Daniel said, “I thought it went pretty good. I like studying that way.”
“Yeah, well I have a few other ways to try,” I said. But then worried about Eric wondering what we were talking about, so I changed the subject. “Still think you can get a ticket for me to go with you to the game next week?”
“Yep,” he said. “Matt is going to be away this weekend and said I could use his, though I doubt he goes to many games anyway.”
“Matt’s going to be away this weekend?” I asked.
“Yep, but he says you can’t use his bed. You’ll just have to sleep with me.”
“I can handle it,” I said, “though I’d be tempted to do that when he’s there.”
Daniel chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
. . . . .
My Monday classes ended at the outdoor pool. Coach Bauerman was a short, curmudgeon of a man with bushy eyebrows and bowlegs. But by all accounts, he was a hell of a coach.
I arrived in my more modest swimsuit (the one
with the colored pouch) and warm-ups at the time the coach told me to be there.
It was just as the swim team was leaving the pool and the divers were arriving.
I stole glances at the swimmers’ bodies. I always liked swimmers’ bodies.
There were only three male divers and I couldn’t tell much about how they were built because they wore warm-ups, too. But one caught my attention, or at least his hair did, thick, jet-black, silky, down to his shoulders. I saw him first from behind, and what I saw was a tall, slender form and a nice butt.
When I joined them, they eyed my cane, obviously wondering how I could be a diver. While they looked at my cane, I looked to see who had the black hair. He was Asian, with a pale complexion. He had dark eyebrows, red lips, and a thin face; an attractive face.
He looked up to find me looking right at him. He smiled. I smiled. Sometimes you meet someone and know instantly that you’ll like each other.
Coach arrived. “You Sean?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Go ahead and get off the warm-ups, and you guys,” he said to the three male and four female divers, “start warming up.”
They all seemed to know what that meant and started stretching. I noticed my possible new friend steal glances at me as I undressed.
The coach was distracted, first by an assistant, and then by reading his clipboard, so I waited, hands on hips.
He looked up at me and frowned. “Well? You can warm up, too. Do what they’re doing,” he said, nodding toward the others.
They were stretching, so I stretched. And though the suit was more modest than the other one Daniel had me buy, it was still rather… formfitting. The girl divers smiled at me. The guy with black hair seemed to be concentrating on his stretching, but he did look my way at least once.
That first day, I waded, back and forth across the shallow end, which was fine with me because then I was free to watch the divers. I’d never really been around divers before; at least not competitive divers. I decided that I liked their bodies far better than swimmers. They were tight, with good definition, more like gymnasts. I enjoyed watching as they progressed to harder and harder dives.
Coach sent me to the showers at the same time he sent the divers, but I moved slower with my cane. One of the divers was already leaving the showers by the time I came in, but the guy with the black hair was there. I stepped to the shower next to him, pulled off my suit and rinsed it under the shower.
The black-haired guy had an elegant body, long and lean like Colin, but with broader shoulders and a flatter chest. Thin black leg hair climbed up to mid thigh, but above that, his only body hair was a wide patch of pubic hair and a few black hairs in the middle of his chest.
We checked each other out, like even straight guys do. He looked nicely hung. “I enjoyed watching you guys dive,” I told him.
“Thanks,” he said. “What’d you do to your leg?”
“Knee surgery,” I said.
He nodded, knowingly, and then extended a soapy hand. “Ken Kawamoto,” he said. “I’m a freshman like you.”
“Sean Sullivan,” I said, taking his hand. “How’d you know I was a freshman?”
“I saw you at orientation.”
“Oh,” I said. “I was sorta out of it that day.”
“Weren’t we all,” he said. “My eyes glazed over by the second hour.”
He stayed in the shower with me, talking about classes and the school. We dried off together and headed for our lockers, but only after I learned that we had a Tuesday, Thursday physics class and Thursday lab together
. . . . .
I had missed the Trinity game that first weekend, because I was in Austin. They lost. And even though the next week was an off-week for the team, the coach worked them hard on Monday. Eric dragged himself into the room after supper.
I watched from where I sat at the desk, studying in my underwear, as he collapsed onto his bed.
“Rough practice?” I asked.
His answer was a deep groan.
“How did algebra go?” I asked.
He waved a tired hand at me. “Great. I even helped one of the other guys in class with what you told me. Thanks for the help.” He covered his eyes with his forearm. “But now I’ve got to study Early Civ for tomorrow and I don’t think I can make it. I’m beat.”
“I can get some ice water,” I said.
“I’m not thirsty any more,” he said.
“I wasn’t going to give it to you to drink,” I said, cocking an eyebrow.
He groaned again. “What? As in throw it at me?” He peeked at me from under his forearm. “My roommate’s a masochist.”
“Just trying to be helpful,” I said.
“OK,” he said, sitting up. “What’d be helpful would be if you gave me another rubdown? I’m really sore.”
Remembering high school football practices, I believed him. I put down my English Comp book and stood up, stretching. “You aren’t going to make a habit of this, right?” I asked.
“I’m in pain, Sean… please?”
I sighed. “Roll over.”
Eric sat up, pulled off his shirt and rolled onto his stomach. “Oh, man, I really appreciate this.”
I thought about putting on my shorts, just in case I sprouted wood, but I felt pretty safe. Eric really wasn’t my type. The door was already closed, so I climbed onto his butt without bothering to put on pants. Straddling him, and using lotion I kept around (for other reasons), I began to work on his shoulders.
Eric sighed and relaxed, but even relaxed, his muscles were hard as a rock. “I can’t help but feel sorry for whatever guys you made sore today, Eric.”
His eyes were closed and he didn’t answer. “Don’t fall asleep,” I warned him. “You said you needed to study.”
He groaned. “Yeah, well. I don’t know why,” he said. “I thought I was going to get some help. You know. I figured that because of my scholarship, the coaches would grease my way through classes, but they aren’t gonna do shit. And there’s no fucking way I can pass my classes it if they don’t help.”
“Well,” I said, digging the heels of my hands into the thick muscles between his shoulder blades, “Trinity has a rep for being a hard school. I would almost expect that. Why’d you choose Trinity anyway?”
He shrugged under my hands. “That’s just it; it’s got a good rep. I figured a degree here would be worth something, especially if I don’t make the pros. And besides, Trinity was the only school to offer a full scholarship. Linebackers don’t usually get those.”
“You aren’t dumb, Eric,” I told him. “You just gotta study.”
“Easy for you to say,” he mumbled. “You’re a brain.”
“Like I said, you aren’t dumb, Eric.”
“Well,” he acknowledged. “There are plenty of dumber guys around alright, but I’ve always had a hell of a time studying. I don’t remember much of what I read.”
I kneaded the long muscles of his back with my knuckles. “I guess I always have had an easy time remembering what I’ve read. But it isn’t just reading, Dude. Like, do you take notes in class? Do you talk about what you’re studying with anyone else? Do you think about what you’re studying outside of class? Do you use tricks like mnemonic devices to remember things?”
He frowned. “I think about football or Tracy when I’m not in class.”
“Get Tracy to help you study,” I suggested.
“Yeah, right. She’s almost as bad as I am.”
“You’re an awfully big guy to be such a crybaby,” I said and felt like I was bearding the lion. But he didn’t get angry. He just sighed again.
“Come on,” I encouraged. “Open your book or I’ll quit giving you this back rub.”
With a final groan, he reached for the dresser next to the bed and pulled his book off the top. I kept working while he opened it, and I watched him open the book to the fourth chapter. From the angle of his head, it looked to me like he was skipping the introduction on the left page and starting with the chapter proper.
“Don’t you read the chapter introduction?” I asked.
“What, this?” he asked, pointing to the left page.
I scooted forward off his butt to get at his shoulders better, and to better see the book. “Yeah, that page.”
“Why? They just cover it again in the chapter.”
“Whoa! Stop!” I said, biffing his head. “I bet you skipped the introduction to the book too, didn’t you?”
“I bet,” I said, “that you were assigned the introduction to read right off.”
Eric shrugged. “Maybe.”
“OK, turn back to the intro to the book.”
He grumbled, but did it. And then, sitting astride his back and rubbing his shoulders, I scanned the introduction with him, and pointed out how the authors gave their strategy for the book and what overall themes they would stress. “You see how they point out that mankind always advanced the most when there was an absence of conflict? That’s going to be a theme of the book, and for your professor too, I’ll bet. Just start echoing that back whenever you can and he’ll think you’ve got it. Now go to the first chapter intro.”
I lead him through the chapter overviews for the first three chapters, and then the fourth, showing him how the book tried to weave it’s themes through a review of early history. Then I started him reading the fourth chapter and climbed off his back.
“I’m going to call home,” I said. “I met a guy today that sorta reminded me of my brother… made me homesick. I’m gonna call him.”
Colin was excited; he’d been chosen to start for the varsity in the first district game. When we finished, and I hung up the phone, Eric looked up from the book. “So your brother plays football?”
“Yep,” I said. “He’s a junior this year and they’re starting him at quarterback.”
Eric sat up. “That’s cool. So how come you never played?”
“Who said I never played? I was a defensive back. I just didn’t play the last year because I had other things going on. But I did run. That’s why the coaches here are working with me. I used to run cross-country and did pretty good; I finished second at state.”
Eric nodded, impressed. “So when are you going to be able to run again?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” I said, leaning back in my chair at the desk. “I’m not even sure I can run.” I looked off out the window to where I could see the lights of the city. “I dream about it, though, all the time. I dream I’m running, usually at the beach,” then I smiled. “Usually naked.” I didn’t say, however, that it was usually with Daniel or Jorge, or sometimes with Aaron, but almost always with someone.
Eric laughed. “Did you used to run naked at the beach?”
I glanced at him. “Yeah, a few times. Swam naked too.”
He nodded and sat forward. “We used to run naked on the golf course back home, at night, you know… feeling the wind and all.”
I didn’t know what size his friends were, but could imagine a herd of giants running naked in the dark; had to be scary.
“Finish studying,” I told him. “So you can get some sleep.”
“Yes, Mommy,” he grumbled, laying back on his bed and lifting the book. “But it seems to me that these guys are wrong. I think people advance because of conflict… like wars… I mean, guys think up new weapons and new strategies.”
“And the conflict doesn’t have to be with other men,” I pointed out. “It can be a struggle with nature, or other pressures; men thinking up ways to survive.”
“Yeah!” Eric said, enthusiastically. “These guys have it backwards.”
“Well, not knowing your professor, I wouldn’t say it that way in class, but I would ask questions like that. Show the professor you’re thinking.”
Eric smiled. I guess he was visualizing himself asking questions in class.
That night, after I turned off the light and we were lying in our beds, I heard Eric clear his throat. “Sean?”
“Thanks for helping me with Early Civ.”
“Maybe tomorrow night, I’ll let you play that stupid classical music shit.”
“Well it beats the hell out of that my-dog-died country and western cry-in-your-beer shit of yours. Especially to study to.”
He was quiet a moment. “I’m not going to beat the shit out of you,” he said with mock decisiveness.
“Because of the back rubs and because you help me study.”
“Yeah, as if you could beat the shit out of me. A guy your size has to be so fucking slow that even on my cane, I could walk away.”
“Uh, huh. Sure,” he said. “You still have to sleep sometime.”
“Um, hmm,” I answered. “So do you.”
He was quiet another moment, then… “Good night, Sean. Go to sleep, now.”
I chuckled. And then I thought again of Colin. I missed him. I missed my roommate.
. . . . .
I sat by Ken in the class we shared the next day and managed to get him as a lab partner. We studied together after class and then walked to the pool together.
Coach started me on lap swimming, as well as water walking. It was harder to watch the divers, but I managed, and afterward, in the showers, told Ken how great I thought his diving was.
He tried to play it down and told me about all the things wrong with his dives. But then I told him specific things I liked, and could tell he was pleased that I’d paid such close attention.
It might have been my imagination, but my leg felt more limber as I returned to my dorm for supper.
That night, Linda called just after I made Eric buckle down with his Life Sciences book.
“I’ve got a new cassette you just have to hear,” she said. “Next time you go to Austin, stop by and bring a book. We can study together while you listen to it.”
“What kind of cassette?” I asked. “Not opera, right? I mean, a man has his limits. I’ve got a roommate into country and western and my limits are pretty low right now.”
Eric shot me the finger from his bed.
I shot one back.
“Well, not really opera,” she said. “But great arias; just the good stuff.”
I sighed, loud enough for her to hear. “It’d sure be hard to study with all that screaming and yelling.”
“Well,” she said. “We don’t have to study.”
Ignoring the more obvious connotations of that statement, I asked her about her classes.
. . . . .
I was sitting at my desk, in my underwear, minding my own business on Thursday night when it happened.
Eric had taken to studying in his underwear as well, which gave me a certain amount of mentor’s satisfaction. Ferg, a friend of Eric’s from down the hall was sitting on my bed studying in shorts and singlet. If he hadn’t been such a chunky lineman, I would have encouraged him to strip as well.
Instead, I was minding my own business, and studying quite happily to a Mozart symphony when Eric cranked up Tammy Wynette on his cassette player.
They’d had a light workout that day, and coach was actually giving them Friday off, leaving Eric with way too much energy and no reason to get to bed early.
Well, I couldn’t hear my Mozart, so I turned it up.
Ferg put his book down and crossed his arms to watch, smiling.
Eric cranked his up, and it sounded like Tammy howled.
What could I do? A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. I cranked mine up all the way.
Ferg, smiling, covered his ears as Eric spun his volume all the way.
The walls vibrated and my ears hurt. But I glared at Eric who glared back.
“Why don’t you get earphones?” I yelled.
“Why don’t you?” he yelled back.
“Because my music is soothing.”
“Yeah… if your NINETY YEARS OLD!” he yelled.
I shot him the finger and lifted my book to study, prepared to wait him out, proud that stubbornness ran in my family.
It didn’t run in his. Eric got up, strode to my desk, turned off my cassette, and returned to his bed.
So, grabbing my cane, which was handy, I sorta strode to his dresser, and holding him at bay on his bed by pointing my cane at him, I unplugged his cassette and carried it back to my desk, where I set it down. I turned back toward him, intending a satisfied smile, only to find him right there, in front of me.
He buried his shoulder in my gut and lifted me over it; butt high, like a light sack of potatoes.
I yelled and slapped his butt hard. It had absolutely no effect.
“What are you going to do with him?” Ferg asked, standing up from my bed.
I grabbed the back of Eric’s waistband and jerked up on it, giving him the best wedgie I could without tearing his briefs. “He’s going to put me the fuck down,” I said, and then gasped as Eric tossed me higher on his shoulder.
“I’m putting him outside,” Eric said. “Any guy with no appreciation for Tammy Wynette is not worthy of this room.
Ferg slapped my ass. “You ought to belt-line him,” Ferg suggested. “Run him down the hall first and let everybody take a shot.”
“Like hell you will,” I growled and popped Eric’s waistband. Not much action there.
“Yeah,” Eric said. “Let’s do it. Then I’ll put him outside and since it’s after hours, the door will lock, and I’ll have a peaceful night.”
“You’ll never have another peaceful night again,” I warned while Ferg ran up and down the hall announcing a belt-line. “You are going to be soooo sorry about this,” I warned.
“No,” Eric said, slapping my ass. “I think I’m going to be soooo happy about this.”
“You’ll get one for every one I get,” I warned.
“As if you had any muscles,” he said. “I’m sooo scared!”
I slapped his butt hard, and my hand stung.
Though my head was down and the world was upside down, from all the cheering I could tell that all the doors to the hall had opened, and jocks had lined up on both sides. I peeked around Eric. “Holy shit!” I said. “Some of them really have belts!”
“Yep,” Eric said, and then began walking, way too slowly, down the hall.
At first, I tried to match whacks on my butt with whacks on Eric’s butt. But the ones I was getting smarted like hell whereas my slaps to his butt seemed to have no effect at all. I pushed up on his back, tensing my butt against the whacks. And that’s when some of the more enthusiastic jocks began taking shots at Eric’s butt.
He picked up speed. Ferg, following us with a huge grin, picked up speed as well. By the time we reached the end of the hall, Eric was taking as many whacks as I was.
He opened the door to the outside and I grabbed the waistband of his underwear tightly; there was no way I was going to let him lock me outside. I would give him the granddaddy of all wedgies first.
He stepped out through the door to put me down, and two things happened, almost simultaneously. Ferg gave him a shove from behind and closed the door on both of us, and my wedgie attempt failed because the waistband of Eric’s briefs tore and I wound up with a huge patch of cotton from his backside in my hands.
We stood there, under a light on the outside stairs, appraising the situation. And then Eric grabbed the side of my briefs and gave a huge tug that almost pulled me off my feet, and tore out the side of my briefs.
“Oh, shit!” I gasped, jerking up and clutching my knee.
“Oh Sean, man, I’m sorry,” Eric cried, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Are you OK?”
The pain from my knee passed quickly, but my butt still stung. I straightened back up and frowned at him. “See what country and western does to a person? It’s evil, Eric,” I said, boring into his eyes with mine. “Give it up before it’s too late!”
He grinned. “Fuck you!” And then he looked around. It was late. The campus was quiet. We could ring the bell at the front entrance and get in that way, but the RA would give us hell.
He started down the stairs and I had to smile at his fully exposed butt crack. “You are not leaving me here,” I called and started to limp after him.
He came back to me and pulled my arm over his shoulder. He was tall enough, I felt like he was pulling my arm off. “What about the alarm?” I asked. “I thought the door had an alarm that would go off.”
“Are you kidding?” Eric said. “That got disabled like the first night.”
We came to the ground floor and approached the corner of the building. There, in the dark, a breeze came past and blew through the tatters of my underwear, soothing my burning butt.
“What do you want to do?” Eric asked.
I looked up at the night sky, and toward the lights of the city. “I wish I could run,” I said wistfully.
He looked down at me a moment, and then said, “Climb on.”
“Climb on my back,” he said. “We’ll run.”
I half-laughed; he had to be joking.
He shrugged. “I feel like running, too. Let’s streak the campus.” He pulled the remains of his underwear off. “Come on. It’ll be cool.”
I looked around. I sure didn’t see anyone. So I took my briefs off too. “Sorta like a Lady Godiva kind of streak, huh? Except that I’m no lady.”
“And I’m no horse,” Eric said, turning his back to me.
“Yeah, well, we can talk about that later,” I said, grabbing his shoulders and hopping up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried not to think about my cock and balls dangling on his butt.
He grabbed under my legs, careful of my knee, took a few steps adjusting, and then began to trot.
Initially, I had taken it as a joke, but with the wind in my hair and over my body, and using my leg muscles to stay properly mounted; it almost felt good.
Eric trotted across the parking lot and then around the baseball field. “How’s your leg?” he asked.
“Not bad. You don’t have to keep running if you’re tired,” I said.
“I like running,” he said. “At least running naked. As long as you’re OK.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, gripping his shoulders and tightening my legs around his waist. “It’s almost better than running myself since you’re doing all the work.”
He trotted down almost to Mulberry, and then along, parallel to the road, and then back up toward the track and football field. Despite the sensuality of being naked in the night breeze and having my legs around a naked guy, I didn’t get hard. It wasn’t erotic.
My thighs were just beginning to get sore when Eric ran onto the turf at the end of the field and stopped, setting me down. “I need to rest a second,” he said.
I stretched. “Yeah, well just don’t leave me out here.”
A wicked grin spread on his face.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned. “Or you’ll never sleep safely again.”
He laughed and sat down on the fine grass. I sat down beside him, and when he lay back, hands behind his head, I joined him, looking up into the stars.
“That was sorta fun,” he said.
“Yeah, it was. Even though my butt still burns from your fuckin’ belt-line.”
“Mine, too,” he said. They got me too.
“Yeah, well you deserved it.”
“We need revenge,” he said.
His breathing slowed as he caught his breath. The breeze was almost cool, coming up from the southeast, from the Gulf of Mexico. A jet flew low overhead, on a final approach to the airport.
“Sean,” he asked. “Are you gay?”
Suddenly, the evening wasn’t so peaceful anymore. I weighed my options. No matter how I answered his question, life might not be easy afterward. Trying to hide being gay would be a pain. But being out could be painful in other ways. I wondered how he had guessed. I didn’t consider myself at all effeminate. And I had tried to never be caught staring at guy’s butts.
“Are you pissed that I asked?” he said. “Because if you aren’t gay, I’m really sorry I asked that.”
“I’m gay,” I said. “How’d you know?”
“Well, let’s see. You’ve been to Austin twice already to see Daniel. And you’re going again this weekend. And he calls almost every other night or you call him. And you try to hide it, but I hear how you talk to him; you sound like me talking to Tracy.”
“So, does everybody know?” I asked.
“Shit no,” he said. “If everyone knew you were gay, they might think I was.”
“Are you going to move out?” I asked. “Or do you want me to?”
“No,” he said, immediately. “I mean, like I thought about it, you know... “ he glanced at me. “You would’ve if you were me.” Then he looked back up to the sky. “But you don’t act gay. You’re a nice guy, Sean. And I appreciate that you’ve helped me study. I really appreciate that. And I appreciate the backrubs.” He paused, and then glanced at me again. “You’re not doing the backrubs because I turn you on or anything, are you?”
“Asshole,” I said. “I’ve given you backrubs because I felt sorry for you and hoped they’d help.”
A puff of breeze blew over us, carrying the scents of trees up from the Olmos Basin.
“Do you mind being my roommate?” Eric asked quietly.
“I like being your roommate,” I told him sincerely. “I like it so much, I may just crawl in to bed with you some night and give you a big kiss.”
“Shit!” he said, and flopped the back of his fist over onto my stomach.
“Oh, geez,” I said, tightening my gut.
He left the back of his hand there, resting on my gut. It wasn’t a sexual contact, but a friend thing.
He sighed. “Just don’t go acting all queer in front of other guys, OK?”
“I don’t know. You keep playing Tammy Wynette and I might just feel like dancing out into the hall, floating like a butterfly.”
He rapped the back of his hand on my belly and I flinched. “There are things that can happen in your sleep, too, prick,” he said.
Another plane flew overhead and I was surprised that there were flights so late at night.
“If you ever want to… you know… if you ever want to suck my cock, it’s OK.”
“I don’t do anything I don’t expect to get returned,” I said. “I do you only if you do me.”
I glanced down our bodies, trying to see if he looked like he was getting an erection. He wasn’t my type; nevertheless, it was a great night with a nice breeze over our naked bodies, but from what I could see, he hadn’t sprouted wood.
“Any idea how to get back in?” he asked.
“Not a clue.”
We walked back, me on his back. And we expected that we’d have to knock on a window. But looking up the stairs, we could tell that someone had wedged open the door on our floor. We learned later that we’d taken so long to come back that Ferg figured Eric would be pissed as hell.
Having Hercules for a roommate had advantages.
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