Marcus stepped into my tiny dorm room, closing the door behind him. He crossed over to the loveseat and sat down. I turned my desk chair to face him, sat down, and waited for him to talk. After just a moment, he took a deep breath, and spoke.
"I broke up with Julie over break."
"What?" I almost didn't believe it. In fact, if it hadn't been for the serious, focused look on his face, I might've thought he was playing some sort of practical joke.
"Yeah."
"I thought you had decided to stay together back over Thanksgiving."
"We did," he said, "but about a week into Christmas Break, I realized that it wasn't right. That I didn't want to be with her anymore. So, I went over to her house one night and told her how I felt: I wanted it to be over. I really think it hurt her. I felt awful."
We both sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.
"How did you come to the conclusion to break it off? That is, if you don't mind me asking."
"Well," he started, "that's what I need to talk to you about."
Before he could go on, I had the strangest moment of clarity; it was a moment of pure intuition. You might even call it a moment of precognition. Now, I'm not one to believe in things like that, but I had experienced this same sense on two separate occasions. Each time I seemed to know exactly what was about to happen. Looking back on it, I count what happened next as my third experience with this feeling of intuition.
"I broke up with her because of you."
"What?" I said it carefully, with so much calculation. I had my moment of intuition; would it turn out to be correct? Could this actually be about to happen?
"I just need to say some things. You can say or do whatever you want when I'm finished, but just let me get all this out."
He spoke the words with such raw passion, such vulnerability. I felt like I was in the presence of something holy. When he spoke again, I could see tears forming in his eyes.
"I like you."
He paused.
"You are the closest, best friend I've ever had. You know me so well. But I realized that I want more than friendship. I don't know why I feel this way, and I can't explain any of this. All I know is, when I was at home with Julie, being with her didn't feel right, so I ended it. After we split up, I was lonely for a while, and all I could think about was talking to you. I started to realize that I wanted to be with you, to hold you, and kiss you, and...."
He paused yet again. I don't think he could bring himself to say the next thing. I didn't say a word. I could tell he wasn't finished talking yet.
"I've never felt this way about a guy before, but when I picture us together in my head it seems right. I thought about fighting it, ignoring these feelings, but then I remembered your advice: clarify my feelings and do what makes me happy. I hope you can at least appreciate that. I guess this means I'm gay. You might think I'm a freak. You might never want to talk to me or see me again. I would understand if you did. Anyway, that's what I needed to say."
A tear ran down his beautiful cheek as I slowly stood up, crossed the room and sat down next to him. He seemed intent on not looking at me.
"Marcus," I said, "look at me."
He turned his head and looked me in the eyes again. That was all I needed. Slowly, purposefully, I moved in and kissed him. His lips were so soft. After what seemed like a million years had passed, or maybe it was a split-second, we broke apart.
"Marcus, you're a braver man than I am."
A look of understanding dawned on his face and he smiled.
Once again, I leaned in and kissed him. This time he turned his upper body to meet me. I ran my hands over his chest, feeling my way up to the back of his neck and into his soft dark hair while he slipped his tongue into my mouth. Now, I love having sex (what guy doesn't?) but a good kiss, I mean a really fuck-awesome kiss can be in a world of its own. This was one of those.
We were thoroughly rapped around each other, making out, when I slid my hands under his shirt. His skin was so smooth and warm. I ran my hands over his abs and up to his chest as he let out a soft purr. Both of our shirts were off moments later. Fuck, he was so hot. I couldn't take it anymore; I had to have him. I began undoing his belt when I felt him tense up and moan softly as he came.
"Shit." He looked really embarrassed. "I'm really sorry about..."
I cut him off with a kiss.
"You're adorable. Don't worry, we'll come back to that part later," I whispered into his ear. "In the mean time, what do you say we get some dinner?"
He smiled.
"Sounds good to me."
"Well, you should go get cleaned up," I said playfully. "I'll meet you at your room in a few minutes."
A few minutes later, after he'd changed his boxers and jeans, we were walking out into the cold night air. It was so great to talk to him, to tell him how much I'd wanted this to happen.
We were both very hungry and ate quickly, eager to get back to my room and pick up where we left off.