King of Campus

He shakes his head. “I like it. It’s… nice.”

“It is.” I can’t believe just how comfortable I feel with him. And I like knowing he feels the same way.

Softly he admits, “I knew right away you were different.”

“Different?” I’m not sure how to take that.

“Different in a good way,” he assures me. “I’ve never felt like you just wanted a piece of me. Or that you’re with me because I can do something for you.”

“I can’t imagine what that feels like.”

I really can’t. I suppose, on a very small scale, it’s like when the photos were posted online and suddenly I was inundated with friend requests on Facebook. Or random people were calling my cell or saying hi to me on the way to class. I didn’t really know any of them but suddenly they all wanted to befriend me because they thought I was close to Roan.

How could you ever let your guard down if that was your life all the time? How would you know if someone genuinely cared about you or was just using you? That would really suck. And it would make it all but impossible to start up a relationship.

It has me wondering if Roan has anyone in his life he can actually trust.

“It can be difficult. You don’t make a lot of new friends. Not good ones unless they’re in the same situation as you are. And you keep the ones you have close and hope they don’t end up letting you down.” Then, surprising me, he starts chuckling. “I still can’t believe you tried dumping me as your partner.”

Biting my lip, I stifle the soft giggles that are trying to escape. I’m still embarrassed about that. “Hey, I’ve already apologized. I just assumed you would be some meathead jock and I’d get stuck doing the entire project myself.” I peek up at him before adding quietly, “Obviously I don’t think that anymore.”

He sounds oddly contented when he finally says, “Good.”

Lying against him like this, I want nothing more than to touch him, to smooth my fingers over his skin. To learn the map of his muscular body. Unable to resist, I finally allow my shaking fingers to lightly stroke their way over the wide expanse of his chest. In the thick silence of my room, I hear his breath catch as I slowly continue meandering my way over the hard powerful contours of him.

Even though I’m in absolute heaven, I whisper into the darkness, “Do you want me to stop?”

He shakes his head just once. It’s almost as if he’s holding his breath, not daring to suck in any oxygen. Only when my fingers flutter over one hardened nipple does a low groan escape.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as my fingers continue dancing over him. Roan is so hard and chiseled. I bet his entire body is completely and utterly beautiful. As tempted as I am to explore further and find out first hand, I know it would be a mistake.

I want to mean more than some middle of the night hook up. A no-strings attached, easy lay. As difficult as it is, I still my fingers over his rigidly held abs. When I don’t move them, his hand rises to gently cover mine.

For just a few moments we lay there silently, our bodies entwined.

Picking up the thread of our previous conversation, he says, “I mentioned that my parents divorced when I was fourteen…”

“Um hmm.” The fact he’s bringing up this topic again surprises me but I want to hear what he has to say. It means more than I’m willing to admit that he’s opening himself up to me like this.

“I never knew. Never suspected he was gay. He just never seemed…” he trails off and for just a moment he seems at a loss for the words he’s trying to grasp on to, “like that… you know?” His brow crinkles as he moistens his lips. “All the stereotypes, he didn’t fit them.”

I’m trying to imagine what it would have been like for him. To find out one of your parents wasn’t who you thought they were. That there were facets you had been shielded from. Being a fourteen year old boy, it would have been hard to deal with. Not to mention confusing. And probably embarrassing.

Tensing besides me, he admits in a low voice that is strung whipcord tight, “When people at school found out, I got a lot of shit for it. They started asking me if I was a homo like my dad. There were guys in my gym class and on the football team who refused to change in front of me in the locker room.”

My heart constricts as he continues talking. Being that age is hard enough without heaping questions about your sexuality on top of it. And it’s certainly no secret that kids can be cruel to one another. Especially at that age. No one wants to be pegged as different. And if they are, they certainly don’t want to be teased and ostracized for it. Unfortunately, those kids are the easiest ones to target and the ones who usually get tormented the most.