Educating Alex

DEAR READER ===========

Just a quick note for anyone reading this who is also following any of my other stories (New to this State in the Gay/High School Section and Copier Guy in Gay/Beginnings), I have not abandoned you! Quite the contrary, the next chapter of NttS will be posted shortly, but I had the idea for this story, and wanted to write it down before I forgot it. This is less of a romance than my previous efforts, but I hope you like it. As always, comments are gratefully received at ardveche@hotmail.com.

DISCLAIMER ==========

This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2000 - ardveche@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:

• if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.

Now, if everyone who is still here is meant to be here, let's get on with it. All comments are welcome and gratefully received (email them to ardveche@hotmail.com or look me up on MSN Messenger).

EDUCATING ALEX ==============

It still amazes me, six weeks into the semester that I ended up living with Alex. We'd kinda known each other since the start of freshman year, had been in the same dorm; we even studied together for a Spanish class we both took. Well, I say we studied together, more like I wrote his assignments for him. But we pretty much moved in different circles and had never really been what you'd call friends, nodding acquaintances if anything. Don't get me wrong, our relationship was cordial, even friendly, but we hung out with different crowds, he's a jock and I'm the vice-president of the campus' gay and lesbian group! I'm from the big city and he's from some one horse town way down south, so we were never all that likely to be friends.

I moved into this place after first semester of freshman year, it was that or kill my insufferably homophobic roomie. Besides which, I had started seeing my boyfriend, John, on a more or less steady basis by that time and needed my own space. We split the rent, but only used one of the bedrooms! Everything was going great, we were the model of domesticity and the envy of every fag on campus right up to the point he dumped me. Seems he decided he wasn't gay after all, that it was all just a phase and he'd found a girlfriend! Would you believe that? Needless to say, I threw the bastard out and swallowed the lost rent for a couple of weeks. I advertised, but it was already summer vacation and everyone was settled for the coming year, or so I thought.

So, you can imagine my surprise when the doorbell rang one day and I opened it to find a nervous looking Alex standing there. I've had a bit of a crush on Alex since the first time we met. He's not Hollywood good-looking, but he's seriously cute. He stands about six foot two, which is maybe three inches taller than me, and has light brownish-blond hair and the most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen on anything that wasn't a spaniel. He had some freckles across the bridge of his nose and the most adorably lopsided smile imaginable. What most people comment on, though, is his build. Mensa material he is not, but he's a superb athlete, swimming and track are his life, and it shows.

"Alex? Hi." I said, removing my glasses and slipping them into my shirt pocket. They're a very weak prescription, but I think they make me look sexy, so I stick with them over contacts. Hey, image is everything!

"Um, hey, Ryan. You busy?" He has the most delicious southern drawl, I could listen to his voice all day, but he was always a man of few words, so that wasn't going to happen. "I mean, I can come back if you are."

"No. No, not at all, come on in." I stood back to let him into the apartment. I Followed him through to the main room and gestured for him to take a seat.

"Thanks."

"Would you like a drink or something?" I asked, eager to be the good host, but still thrown by the presence of my fantasy guy in my home. I couldn't count the number of times I've jacked-off thinking about him since I spilt up with John. And maybe a few times before that too, but I'm only human!

"No thanks."

"So, what can I do for you, Alex?" I asked sitting in the chair opposite him. The papers spread out on the coffee table between us were for a talk I was giving to a local gay group, so I hastily closed the books and pushed everything to one side. I'm very open about my sexuality, but I never considered it my defining feature so I don't make a big deal of it. The words 'private life' mean a great deal to me, and I'd no more introduce myself as 'Hi, I'm Ryan, I'm gay' than he would 'Hi, I'm Alex, and I'm straight', I just don't feel it should be an issue.

"Well, I saw your advertisement..." He trailed off.

"Uhuh?"

"And, well, I kinda fucked up my accommodation for next semester. Left it too late to get back into dorms too." Another pause.

"I see." God, he looked good sitting there, legs apart, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Good enough to eat.

"So, I wondered if maybe the room was still available?" Okay, so I knew this was where he was going, but it still seemed somehow unreal. Alex Hayes wanted to move into my spare room. "I mean, it's okay if it's not."

"No. It's free." I replied, maybe a bit too hastily, but I repeat, I'm only human! "Well, I say free..." I gave a little chuckle at my own weak joke and instantly regretted it as it came out sounding hollow even to me. Suddenly my throat had gone dry. He looked up at me and smiled broadly.

"Cool. So, you think maybe I could have it?"

"Um, Alex, are you sure you want to share with me, man?" Shut up, shut up, shut up, part of my brain screamed, but I knew I had to ask these questions now rather than face the problems later on when he moved in.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You know, I'm gay, right?" Alex was not the most perceptive of individuals, so there was the possibility that this widely known tidbit had escaped him.

"Sure. I'm not totally dumb."

"And you don't mind?"

"It's your life, buddy." He smiled again. "Doesn't matter a damn what I think about it. But, as you asked, I'm totally cool with it."

"You are?" This surprised me. I admit I haven't talked to him all that much, but I figured he'd be as homophobic as all his jock buddies.

"Sure. I mean if you're cool with me and Julie I don't see why I wouldn't be cool with you and, um, is it Jack?"

"John." I answered absently, surprised that he knew my boyfriend's name. My ex- boyfriend's name, rather. "But we broke up." And, come to that, I wasn't sure I was all that cool with him and Julie.

"That's too bad, Ryan." He seemed sincere, and his eyes conveyed no sign of duplicity. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." I needed to change the subject. "So you know how much the rent is, right? And that doesn't include utilities and stuff?"

"Yup." We talked for a little while longer about the apartment, when rent was due, how we'd handle the bills, general stuff, and we steered clear of personal matters. I was still in two minds, half of me couldn't wait for him to move in, the other half was worried that I'd be in perpetual torment if he did. I was starting to come down in favor of the former, sure he'd be a distraction, but I was an adult and I could control myself. Ha!

"Well, I guess that's everything, huh? When do you want to move in?"

"I'm crashing at a buddy's place now, got a summer job in town so I'm staying here for the whole vacation. So, pretty much anytime. Next week?"

"Yeah, that's great!" That let me off the hook as far as rent was concerned, there seemed nothing more to say. We shook on it then and there and the next thing I knew I was on my own again with the assurance that Alex and his stuff would be arriving on Saturday. He called a cheerful goodbye from the steps, and I closed the door.

So that's how it happened. True to his word, he showed up on Saturday with a car full of his junk and quickly moved into the empty room. I offered to help him with his unpacking, but there wasn't that much to do, still he seemed grateful for the company and I sorted his CDs into alphabetical order while he hung up his clothes. We ate together that first night, and it was kinda cool having someone around the place again. I love to cook, but can never be bothered to cook for just myself, so it was a great excuse to cook up a storm and really push the boat out. He was effusive with his praise, and I was tingling all over by the time we finished coffee. Everything he said and did was driving me crazy, he was just too sexy and I was too damn lucky having him as a roommate.

"Hey, you wanna go grab a beer?" He asked as we finished washing and drying the dishes. He leaned back against the counter, hands thrust into his pockets and looked at me with his head on one side.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" I responded after only a second or two.

"So where do you like?"

"Nowhere you'd like, I imagine." The idea of Alex in any of my usual hangouts almost made me burst out laughing - not to say that the idea of showing up with someone as gorgeous as he is didn't appeal to me. Don't get me wrong, I'm no slouch in the looks department myself, but I think I already mentioned that he had the single most beautiful body I've ever seen. It was the simple fact that he was on the team that made me such a fervent and loyal supporter of the college swimming squad.

"Ha! Yeah, I guess not." He grinned at me. "Though not being hit on by girls all night'd be kinda cool." Was he really this dumb? I couldn't decide, what little conversation I'd had with him during the day hadn't revealed any evidence of retardation.

"You're not worried you might get hit on by guys instead?" I asked, keeping my tone light and my expression as close to amused as I could manage.

"Oh, yeah." He smiled sheepishly as though only just then realizing I was right. "I guess I didn't think of that."

"I guess you didn't."

"But, hey, I'm spoken for. We need to get you a man!" His smile broadened and my stomach lurched as he said it, God I love his accent, the way he said 'may-an' was just so incredibly arousing.

"If it's all the same to you," I said, surprising myself with the evenness of my tone, "when I go 'man-hunting' I'll do it alone. Competition like you I can do without!" He blushed, and I mentally marked up a point to me.

"So where are we going to go?" He changed the subject, obviously discomfited by my reference to his good-looks.

"Hmm, somewhere non-threatening and hetero?" I had to tease him a little more, "How about Kipner's?"

"Cool. I'll just grab my coat, 'kay?" And so saying he pushed himself upright with a grunt and bounded from the room. One thing I had noticed in the short time he'd been in the apartment was that Alex never walked anywhere if he could run.

It was a lovely night, and we walked in silence to the bar. The town was so quiet now that the vacation had started and it seemed like we were the only two people in the world. Bad luck for the species, but great luck for me! Kipner's was deserted, there were three other people there when we arrived, two playing pool and one propping up the bar. I got the first drinks and we sat near the pool table - as though there was any doubt we would get the next game! About halfway through our beers the guys playing finished up and left.

Now maybe it's a sign of a misspent youth, but I beat the crap out of him at pool. As we played we traded insults back and forth and little by little as we had a few more beers we both seemed to relax more in one another's company and were soon chatting like old friends. I found out so much about his life that night, all about his relationship with Julie. From the way he talked, he was really in love with her, even going so far as to mention the possibility of marriage. Part of me wanted to kill her, but mostly I was really happy for him that he had managed to find someone so special (especially after my own crappy love life!), and maybe I was just a little jealous. After three beers and four straight wins, I decided it was time to call it a night.

"Jeez, Alex, you play like a cart-horse, man!" I said as I sank the eight ball with a flourish. I picked up my beer and emptied the last of it down my throat.

"Okay, great one, guess I'll have to practice a bit before we do this again."

"Just think yourself lucky we weren't playing for money!"

"I do." He slapped me on the back as we headed for the door. A companionable gesture, which seemed somehow out of place. I was acutely conscious of the fact that this was the first time he'd ever touched me. How obsessive is that? But don't try to tell me you don't keep the same kind of mental tallies! That night I drifted off to sleep with the faint sound of Alex's stereo coming through my wall. Too quiet to identify the song, but too loud to ignore completely. I didn't mind at all.

Summer pretty much flew by. We were both working and out of the apartment for most of the time. When we were there, we mostly did our own thing - there were a few TV shows we watched together and we usually ate together too, I cooked most of the time but often we just ordered take-out. Alex worked out obsessively, and the faint clank of his weight equipment soon became a familiar background to my evenings spent reading. Sometimes, he'd ask me to spot him and I was happy to oblige, and sometimes he'd return the favor. My body improved, and his pool game did likewise as we continued to drink together at least once a week. Basically, we settled into a routine and life went on.

There were things he did which annoyed me, but I'm sure I did things that annoyed him. After the first couple of weeks, Julie started to be a fixture around the place too, and I found myself utterly unable to hate her. She was a really nice girl and the two of them seemed so right for one another. They were never demonstrative in front of me, which was odd as Alex seemed like a pretty affectionate guy, instead they always withdrew to his room. I have to admit that I was grateful for that, him walking around without a shirt on I had just about got used to and by using deep-breathing techniques I could maintain my cool as he did so. But if he had started making out with Julie on the couch, I'm not sure how I would have coped. The only fly in the ointment was at night, the walls were pretty thin and I soon got into the habit of sleeping with a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of sex from his room. I never said anything to him about it, as I didn't know how to raise the subject. Meanwhile, I remained resolutely single.

Then, about three weeks before the end of the vacation, disaster struck. I came back from working late one evening to find Alex's door closed and seriously loud music playing beyond it. On the coffee table there was an empty Jack Daniels' bottle and no glass, there had been about half a bottle left. I realized at once that something was wrong as I tentatively knocked on his door.

"Alex?" I called. There was no answer, so I knocked more loudly and called his name again. Still nothing. "Alex?" I called more loudly still.

"Fuck off!" A muffled voice came from the other side. This was not right at all, I had never known Alex drink particularly heavy (his body was a temple - well, it had at least one worshipper!), and I had never heard him swear.

"Alex? What's wrong?" I asked.

"I said, fuck off." The words were punctuated by faint grunts. I tried the handle of his door and it opened, guess he forgot to lock it. Either that, or he wanted me to be able to get in. He was lying on his back on his weight bench, fully clothed, pumping the weights up and down rapidly. As I entered the room he placed the bar back on the rests and swung himself into a sitting position. "Which part of 'fuck off' didn't you understand?" He demanded with a snarl. I was really worried now, as I had never seen hi like this, he never got angry about anything.

"I was worried." I said simply. "I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Well I am. Now get out."

"Alex, what's wrong?" I took a step towards him, flicking the CD player off as I did so.

"Get out!" He shouted, his knuckles were white from clenching his fists so hard and he would not look at me. I took another step towards him and laid my hand on his shoulder.

"Please. Talk to me." I said quietly. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying on the floor, stunned, my head on the bottom shelf of his bookcase, blood streaming from my lip. He was standing over me, looking in horror at his hand. I tried to get up, and he dropped to his knees beside me.

"Oh my god!" He put his hand over his mouth and reached out as thought to help me, but stopped before his hand came into contact with me as I flinched back afraid he was going to hit me again. "Oh my god." His eyes were moist with tears as I struggled into a sitting position.

"Alex..." I started to speak.

"Jesus, Ryan, I'm so sorry. I, I..." He opened and closed his mouth a few times. "I never... I just don't know... I'm sorry." He seemed unable to finish a sentence, but the pain on his face almost made me forget the pain in mine, I swabbed at my lip with my sleeve wiping the blood away. The bitter, coppery taste stayed in my mouth.

"What's wrong, Alex?" I finally managed, wincing a little as I spoke.

"Julie." He put his head in both his hands, stretching the skin around his eyes downwards as he looked up at me again. "I'm so sorry, Ryan, I'm just so sorry."

"Forget about it, it's just a scratch." I smiled ruefully at him and touched my jaw gently. "Just tell me what's wrong, buddy."

"We broke up. We had a fight, and she broke up with me." His voice was flat and lifeless. He rocked back on his haunches and hung his head.

"What? No! In the morning..." I tried to reassure him.

"No. It's over." He cut me off before I could finish my intended platitude, and his tone brooked no repeat from me. Then, as suddenly as he had hit me, he was crying like a baby with his head on my shoulder and his arms around me. Oh, that this could have happened in other circumstances! But I was exactly what he needed me to be at that moment, exactly what I had become over the past weeks. A friend. I held him back and stroked his hair and murmured quietly that everything would work out. Finally, the tears subsided, but he stayed where he was for a minute or two longer, sniffing occasionally.

"Alex?" I whispered to the side of his head, my jaw ached, my head had begun to throb and my throat was parched.

"Thank you." He whispered back as he disentangled himself from my embrace. He remained kneeling beside me for a moment, then wiped his arm across his face and, using the bookcase for support, pushed himself shakily to his feet. He held out both hands to me, still not meeting my gaze, and pulled me to my feet also. "You should put ice on that."

"Yeah." I agreed.

"I'm really sorry, Ryan."

"I said forget about it."

"I can't. If you want me to leave, I'll understand." His voice was so desolate, it tugged at my heart and I placed my hand on his arm lightly.

"Don't be stupid."

"But that's just what I am, isn't it? Stupid." He shook my hand off and walked out of the room.

"No you're not." I caught up with him in the kitchen. "If anyone's stupid, it's Julie for not realizing how lucky she is to have someone like you." I was aware that this line of argument might well earn me another few bruises, but I'd said it before I could stop myself. He opened the freezer and began emptying ice into a cloth beside the sink, making no response.

"Here." He handed the makeshift ice-pack to me. "It'll stop the swelling."

"Thanks. Remind me never to get you mad." I attempted a smile.

"I'm sorry, Ryan. I don't know what to say. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course I can. You were upset, I don't hold it against you. I could wish you'd punched a wall or something instead..." I gave a little chuckle.

"That's just it. I was waiting for you to get back, I, I guess I wanted to hurt someone." He hung his head, and I stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Um. Well, it worked." And I clapped him on the shoulder in what I hoped was a hale and hearty manner.

"I'm so sorry." How could I stay mad at him, as he fixed me with a stare from those big brown eyes of his?

"So you keep saying. Let's just drop it, okay?"

"I guess."

"Hey, if it makes you feel better, I'll send you the dentist's bill!" I joked. This has always been a failing of mine, a tendency to crack bad jokes at exactly the wrong time. This time, though, it appeared to work as he let out a short laugh and gave me a rough, awkward hug. Awkward though it was, it still made me weak at the knees and when he let go I thought I might fall over. Hopefully my slight swaying could be put down to the incredible force with which he'd hit me.

"You're a great guy, Ryan. You know that?"

"Sure, everyone tells me that, mostly to get me into bed." I kicked myself mentally. "Oops, maybe shouldn't have said that, huh?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, buddy, but I really mean it." He smiled a little.

"So," I said cautiously, "You want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to say. But thanks, I appreciate it."

"Well, you know that if you do, I'm here, right?"

"I know." He took my arm. "Let's sit down, before you fall down. I hit you pretty hard."

"I hadn't noticed." I murmured sarcastically, well aware that my face was going to be sporting some pretty nasty bruising by the morning. He refused to talk any more about what had happened that night. Or the following morning, though he was at pains to apologize to me again and even brought me breakfast in bed to make up for hitting me. The next few weeks were torment for me, he closed up completely, spending all his time in his room we stopped hanging out altogether and barely said more than ten words to one another on any day. He threw himself into an exercise program and into his job, taking all the extra hours he could get. I worried about him, but I didn't try to make him talk. I had the bruises to prove that Alex would talk when Alex was good and ready to talk, not before.

On the last Friday of vacation, and the last day of my job (yes!), I came home to find Alex waiting for me. The kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it, and there was an open bottle of wine sitting on the counter.

"Hey. What's going on?" I asked dumping my coat across a chair.

"I'm cooking dinner." He announced with a grin.

"What's the occasion?" I asked, as Alex had never cooked anything more adventurous than microwave pizza in the weeks we had shared the apartment. Maybe my tone was a little too sarcastic as a slightly hurt expression crossed his face, but it was soon chased away by the familiar old grin that I had missed so much.

"Last day of slavery, buddy. We have two whole days to chill before classes start."

"I guess. So what are you making?" I poured two glasses of wine and moved to a stool in the chaos that was the kitchen.

"Um. It started out as cannelloni, but I had a bit of trouble with the pasta, so it's more of a lumpy lasagna now." He looked slightly embarrassed by this.

"I'm sure it'll be great." I favored him with a big grin and raised my glass to him.

"Yeah, right." He took the other glass from me. "Shouldn't be much longer."

"Well, to the chef!" I said and we clinked our glasses together. "It's good to see you back in the land of the living, buddy."

"Yeah. Sorry I've been such an asshole lately."

"Don't worry about it. I know how it is. When I broke up with John I was such a misery for weeks, you would not believe it." That wasn't quite true in fact, but I wanted to try to make him feel better and I figured that one little white lie wouldn't hurt.

"Yeah. Relationships suck." He said with feeling.

"True." I agreed.

"I'm through with girls."

"Really?" I said lasciviously and raised an eyebrow at him. A huge grin spread across his face and he laughed out loud for the first time in weeks.

"You wish!"

"Hey, a guy can dream, right?"

"About me?" He was suddenly serious, and I decided a change in tack was called for.

"Sure. Although I wake up screaming every time."

"Very funny."

"I try."

"Oh, shit, the pie!" And as he busied himself rescuing the remains of an apple pie from the oven the moment came to an end. We eventually sat down to eat and I opened another bottle of wine as the occasion seemed to demand it. All in all, it wasn't such a bad meal either, although the pie was a little burnt and the 'cannelloni' took a lot of imagination to believe it had ever been any such thing. I was pleasantly drunk as we finished up desert and retired to the couch with a third bottle. Neither of us was in the mood for coffee, or for the washing up, and we were both at that pleasantly drunk stage where stopping drinking has ceased to be an option. We sat side by side and talked about nothing in particular, stuff like what classes we were taking, how good it was not to have to work, how amazingly bad he was at cooking!

"So why anthropology?" He slurred at me, finishing his wine and turning slightly to one side so the side of his head was against the back of the couch and he could face me.

"The professor is cute." Was my flippant response.

"As cute as Jack?" It took me a moment to realize who he was talking about, and when I did I had to laugh.

"John? Way cuter than him." There was a long silence.

"As cute as me?" I looked at him for a long time before I answered.

"Nah." I drained my glass. "And I think we should call it a night. I think I'm drunk, and I know you are. Now, good night." And then I did something I had always dreamt of doing but never imagined for a moment I would really do. I leant forward and kissed him gently on the forehead and then sat up straight, suddenly embarrassed by my drunken action.

"Good night." He whispered, reaching out to push my hair out of my eyes, he leant towards me and kissed me. Then he lurched unsteadily to his feet and towards his room. "And thanks again, Ryan. For everything." He said, as he closed the door, leaving me sitting there with a dazed look on my face and a strange numbness in my entire body. I raised my hand, which felt like it was someone else's, to my lips and breathed out slowly.

I woke the following morning, well more like afternoon, curled in a fetal position on the couch still in my clothes and with the hangover from hell. I always get the worst hangovers from red wine and my god had I drunk a lot of it the night before. As I lay there, trying not to move and willing the pain in my head to go away the events of the previous night came back to me with unusual clarity. Everything was a blur from the end of dinner right up to the kiss and then everything came into focus, but as though viewed by a third person and from the other side of the room. Peculiarly distant, yet at the same time achingly real.

About an hour (and several aspirin and pints of water) later, Alex sloped into the room looking about how I felt. Well, actually looking good enough to eat again, in rumpled shorts and T-shirt, but you get my point.

"Aspirin." He croaked and I indicated the bottle on the table in front of me. He shook a few from the bottle and then took a big gulp from my water glass. "Never again." He groaned leaning back and putting his hand across his eyes.

"Yeah. Until the next time." I murmured, unable and unwilling to speak more loudly.

"I can't remember anything, when did I go to bed?" He kept his hand over his eyes, and something told me that he'd prefer me to believe he couldn't remember what had happened. I sighed inside and allowed myself to go along with the game.

"Not sure, my memory's pretty hazy. I slept out here. My back's killing me."

"I bet." His tone was less tense now, and I knew that he remembered what happened perfectly well and had been fishing to see if I did. Well, if it made him feel better to believe that I had forgotten too, I guess I could just about live with it.

The rest of the weekend pretty much passed in a blur as everything geared up for the start of classes and all the attendant activities on Monday. The semester started without a hitch and I got enrolled in all the classes I wanted without any problems, sadly I was no longer sharing any with Alex. We went out for a few beers to a now crowded Kipner's, our habitual summer hang-out, on the Saturday evening having barely seen each other all week. But we couldn't get a game of pool, so we called it a night earlier than usual and wandered back to the apartment. Alex stopped outside our old dorm on the way back and stood staring at the bleak building for a while. I decided not to interrupt his reverie and took a seat on a low wall to wait for him.

"See that window? Third floor, second one over from the left?" He pointed at it and turned to see if I was paying attention. Which, oddly enough, I was, my eyes had been traveling up and down his back while I waited. Thankfully it was probably too dark for him to really see where I was looking.

"Yeah? What about it?" I asked, impatient to get going again. That building held no happy memories for me and I could think of better ways to spend an evening than in staring up at its windows.

"That's your old room." He stated calmly. Now that I thought about it, I guess he was right, the next window over was the stairs. God, I'd hated being next to the stairs, the door banged every time someone staggered back late at night drunk out of their skull. But why did he know that was my room?

"Oh yeah, so it is."

"Mine was up a floor and over three."

"Three twenty-two." I said automatically. I had never been in Alex's room, but I knew the number and though I had never called it, I also knew his telephone extension. His roomie, Derek, was one of the worst homophobes on campus.

"Yup. And you were two eleven." He was, of course, absolutely right, and he seemed not to think there was anything unusual in my knowing his room number, though I was surprised he knew mine.

"How do you know that?" I asked, finally unable to hold back.

"After you moved out, a buddy of mine moved in to share with Steve." Steve was my old and much detested roommate. "Brian Gallagher? Did you know him?"

"No." I guess there was a perfectly innocent reason why he knew my room number and could pick out the window. Damn!

"I guess you guys probably moved in different circles. He plays baseball?" I was none the wiser, and my expression must've shown it. "Total asshole."

"I thought you said he was your buddy."

"Doesn't stop him being an asshole." He stopped and offered me a shy little smile. "Most of the guys I used to hang out with were assholes. Sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because I guess some of those guys probably made your life pretty difficult?" He phrased it almost as a question, but it was clear he knew that it was a fact.

"I'm big enough and ugly enough to handle myself." I answered lightly. But he had hit the nail on the head, those guys had made my life very tough at times; but I had survived and was a pretty popular guy on campus.

"You're not ugly." He shot back. I was nonplused, completely at a loss for words, which could not be less like me.

"I didn't mean it like that." I answered cautiously, keen to see what he'd say next, yet at the same time dreading it.

"I know." Was his simple answer. "Still, I'm sorry there were so dumb. And I'm sorry that I didn't do anything about it either."

"What could you have done?"

"I could have stood up for you." Suddenly, and for no good reason that I could think of, I was angry with him. I am a pretty independent person and spent a long time coming to terms with my sexuality. I was not always the confident, proud gay man I am today. I came out at a pretty early age and it was without help from anyone, not family or friends, that I came to terms with who I am. I was affronted by the idea that had he been more obviously on my side my life would've been any easier.

"I managed on my own. I don't need your help." I said shortly, and perhaps a little more harshly than I needed to. He put his head slightly on one side and regarded me for a long time. I tried to meet his even stare, but eventually looked away.

"I think everyone needs help from their friends some times." He finally said.

"Maybe." I answered grudgingly.

"Even if they don't want to believe it." Where was this coming from? This was possibly the deepest thing ever to pass Alex's lips in all the time I'd known him. "And I know I wasn't exactly your best friend, but that's what we are now, right? Friends?" He sounded slightly unsure of this.

"Of course we are." I answered immediately.

"Cool." There followed a long silence as he sat on the wall beside me and tilted his head back. I was about to break it when he spoke again. "You never see the stars here." He paused, and I looked up at the muddy canopy. "Back home, the skies are so clear you can see forever. It's humbling, you know? There are so many stars, and they're all so bright and clear you feel you could just reach up and touch them. Pick one out and keep it in a jar or something."

"I'd like to see that."

"About last Friday night, Ryan." He bowed his head and became suddenly deeply interested in his fingernails.

"What about it?" Another long pause, this conversation was like getting blood out of a stone. Finally he glanced up at my face, and in a small voice answered.

"I'm sorry."

"For getting drunk? Hey, buddy, you weren't the only one." I gave what I hoped was a light-hearted chuckle."

"No. For, you know, leading you on. There, I said it."

"Leading me on? What are you talking about?" This was unexpected.

"Don't play dumb. I'm sorry for kissing you, okay?"

"Don't be. It was nice. Friendly." Now that I thought about it, it had been just that, there was no real sexual overtones to it, just a simple kiss from a friend. "Besides, I should be the one apologizing, I started it."

"I guess." He sounded unsure.

"Let's just forget about it, okay? We were both drunk, stuff happens." I was determined to make light of the whole incident. Alex and I had been getting on so well as friends I didn't want some damn fool thing I'd done one drunken evening to ruin that.

"So you don't think less of me?" I think I ought to go see a doctor, I could have sworn he just asked if I thought less of him for kissing me.

"No. Not at all."

"Good." There was something about his body language that made it clear he had more to say. "'Cause I like living with you, Ryan. It's fun, you're so much smarter than the guys I used to hang out with." There was that 'used to' again, but before I could ponder it's meaning he went on, more quietly. "Did you know I used to be in, like, total awe of you?"

"Of me? Why?" I was incredulous. I was the one in awe of him.

"You're so in control. You know?"

"No. Not really. What are you talking about, Alex?"

"You know, coming to terms with who you are. I still don't know who I am. I know who people think I am, but that's not the same. My family, my friends, girls, the faculty even, they all see me as this dumb guy who can run fast. So I get, like, this easy ride. But what good is it? I mean, at the end of the day?"

"You're not dumb." I was emphatic about this. The me who knew Alex casually a year ago would have said unhesitatingly that he was just that, but living with him and talking to him every day had shown me that there was intelligence and curiosity in there too, and a real willingness to listen and to learn.

"If I'm not dumb, why'd I have to get you to do my Spanish assignments?" He shot right back.

"Because you never went to class!" I was ready for that one. For someone with such limitless energy he seemed utterly unable to channel it into academic pursuits.

"Yeah, okay, but you know what I mean. I'm this image that everyone sees and thinks they understand and can easily put in a box. But sometimes I wonder who Alex Hayes really is; inside. And I just don't know. Who do you think he is?" I looked at him for a moment, ordering my thoughts before answering what I knew was to him a very important question.

"Alex Hayes is a smart, funny, sensitive, hard-working, decent human being who worries way too much about what other people think of him." I was quite pleased with that answer, but I saw he was about to comment on it, so I cut him off and continued in a lighter vein. "He's also a lot of fun to live with, a great athlete and team player, has a winning personality, is really well built, cute and wildly popular."

"Not all that popular." I had expected him to pick up on the reference to his physical attractiveness, but he seemed inclined to ignore it.

"Yes you are."

"Not any more." He sounded quite cheerful about this. I was utterly confused, there were very few people who were more popular than he was. "Why do you think I moved in with you?"

"Because you screwed up your accommodation plans?" I was hesitant, not sure I liked where this was going. I was particularly unhappy with his implied relationship between his allegedly declining popularity and his moving in with me.

"Yeah, something like that. I had a fight with Derek and he and Brian decided they didn't want to share with me after all."

"A fight? About what?"

"You."

"Me?" Why on earth was he fighting with Derek about me? I didn't want to be the cause of his problems, or to be dragged into any fight he was having with his jock buddies, I had enough woes of my own. But, I realized that was a pretty selfish point of view and waited patiently for his response.

"You remember that rally you guys had a few weeks before the vacation?"

"Sure." I had been involved in organizing a protest against some of the college's policies on equal opportunities.

"Well Derek and a few of the others were going to sabotage it and 'teach the queers a lesson'. You in particular. They wanted me to be involved, but I told them if they did anything I'd go straight to the Dean and turn them all in."

"You did that?" I was astonished, it would have been far easier for him just to ignore it and not get involved.

"Yeah." He answered quietly.

"Why?"

"Because what they wanted to do was wrong." He said this with such conviction, and turned to look squarely at me, as though challenging me to disagree.

"And you had to ask me who Alex Hayes was? I want to add courageous and humane to my list of your qualities."

"Ha. Right." He looked away. "Let's go home." He stood and dusted off the seat of his jeans, I got up too and we resumed our journey.

"So, how did they react?" I asked as we walked.

"Like I said, they found someone else to share with. Said they wanted nothing to do with someone who didn't understand friendship. Called me a faggot." He shrugged.

"Don't let it get to you." I offered, trying to make him feel better about it.

"I'm not. To me, it's not an insult. It's almost like a badge, you know?"

"I don't understand."

"Well, if standing up for what's right makes me a faggot, then fine, I am one."

"Interesting philosophy, Alex, but trust me, it takes more than that to be a faggot!" I clapped him on the shoulder and we both laughed. We walked in silence for a while. "Listen, Alex, I'm sorry I snapped earlier. I guess we do all need help, even if we don't know it at the time. I'm only sorry you lost your friends to help me out."

"Screw them. Who needs friends like that?" His tone was firm, but he had a smile on his face.

"Ha! Someone once said 'you can judge a man by his enemies', I think he was pretty much on the money with that." He laughed again. "But you know, if you ever need someone to talk to, or if I can help you in any way, just ask, okay?"

"You don't owe me anything."

"I know. But that's what friends are for. And you'd already won my friendship before you told me any of this."

"Thanks, Ryan. You're all right, you know that?"

"For a faggot?" I joked.

"No. For a person. And a friend." He put his arm companionably around my shoulders as we walked.

"High praise!" I laughed as my stomach lurched and my heart pounded. I never wanted this moment to end, but realized that it had to. "Maybe you should move your arm, if anyone sees us, people will talk."

"Let them." And his arm stayed exactly where it was the rest of the way home. "I don't care any more. It was just lucky for me you had a spare room, huh?"

Once inside the apartment, I made myself busy in the kitchen making some coffee. I certainly needed it to steady my nerves. I poured a cup for Alex too and went through to the living room where he was flicking through my CDs. We have radically different tastes in music, or more accurately our collections represent radically different tastes. He was always borrowing my discs, and it was one of his more annoying habits as he consistently failed to put them back in the right place. But I had resigned myself to it, if that was the price I had to pay to have Alex living in my apartment it was one I was more than willing to pay!

"Any requests?" He asked without looking round.

"Something light." I replied slumping into the couch, I wasn't thinking clearly enough to pick anything.

"So not the Requiem?" He turned slightly towards me as he selected a disc and slid it into my stereo. The soothing notes of a Chopin nocturne drifted out and I let out a contented sigh as I sipped my coffee. He turned the volume down slightly and came to sit next to me.

"I'm glad we talked tonight, Alex."

"Me too. It's good to get stuff off your chest, you know?"

"God, yes!" I said with feeling. He picked up his coffee and turned so one leg was folded under him on the couch and he was facing me.

"So talk. Tell me what happened with you and John." That was the first time he'd got my ex's name right, which made me think, uncharitably perhaps, that every time he'd called him 'Jack' had been an act.

"What's to tell?"

"Why you two broke up, you seemed so good together." I was surprised he'd noticed.

"He cheated on me. What more is there to say? I found him with another guy in my bed, wouldn't you have dumped him?"

"That was pretty dumb."

"What? You'd have forgiven him, huh?" I was pretty sarcastic, as far as I was concerned what John had done was utterly unforgivable.

"No. I meant cheating on you was dumb."

"Getting caught was dumb." I replied ruefully.

"No cheating on you was. Guys like you don't come along every day." He blushed slightly as he said that and looked into the depths of his coffee cup.

"Are you flirting with me, Mr. Hayes?" I asked jokingly.

"No. Just telling the truth."

"Truthful too, huh? Well, while you're in the mood for the truth, why don't you tell me what happened with you and Julie?" His posture became tense and he swung round so he was sitting face forward again, placing his cup carefully on the coffee table he rose to his feet.

"I think I should turn in." His eyes didn't meet mine.

"Oh, that's fair. I told you why I split up with John." A tiny voice in my head reminded me that I hadn't been entirely truthful, and that my lust for Alex had been a contributing factor in screwing up my relationship.

"Ryan..." He started to say.

"No. That's okay, I'm sorry. I understand, it's personal and my timing is lousy, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." I attempted to be placatory.

"Maybe I need to tell someone."

"Well, I'll listen, but only if you want to tell me."

"I don't think you're the right person to tell."

"Why? Because I won't understand the intricacies of a boy-girl relationship?"

"It's not that." He sat down again, but still didn't face me.

"What then?"

"When you asked if I was flirting with you?"

"Yeah?" I was worried now, was he going to call me on my attraction to him, and cite that as a reason for not opening up to me more as a friend? I sincerely hoped not.

"Would you have wanted me to be?"

"Um, Alex..." I prevaricated. "I like you a lot, man..."

"So that's a 'yes', then." I guess he really wasn't as dumb as everyone thought.

"Look, you're a really good-looking guy, and you have a great personality and in other circumstances I'd go for someone like you in a second." I paused for a moment while I sorted out what I wanted to say that could leave him still wanting to be my friend. "But I'm a realist, and you're straight, so I'm happy only to be your friend. Not that 'only' really applies to friendship, you know? My friends are really important to me, really special, and I don't mean to demean that. And you are too, I have a lot of respect for you, and I wouldn't want to cheapen that, or for you to think less of me and, look, does this make any sense at all?." I realized I was babbling, so I stopped.

"You know what?" He was grinning wickedly.

"What?"

"You're cute when you're nervous." And so saying he leant over and kissed me on the cheek. Kissed me for the second time, only this time he was sober.

"You kissed me." I said, my voice utterly flat.

"I'm glad you noticed."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I wanted to, and because it felt good." He smiled at me again, but couldn't hold my gaze and turned away blushing slightly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm leading you on, you're going to read all sorts of things into that, things I can't deliver on."

"Like what?"

"Like relationships and stuff. And that I'm, like, secretly gay or whatever."

"I'm not going to read that into a kiss on the cheek, Alex."

"Oh."

"I might read it into you calling me cute, though. Are you secretly gay?" I had to ask, he wasn't getting off that easily.

"No!"

"No?" I raised an eyebrow.

"No. I don't think so. I like girls."

"But..." I prompted. There was an agonizing silence as he wrestled with himself mentally, but finally he spoke again in a soft, almost inaudible, achingly childlike voice.

"But... But, I like you too." He looked up, and I could see his eyes were slightly moist, this conversation, and that admission, was a real struggle for him, and I hated myself for pushing him, but I had to see this through to the end now or hate myself forever for not finding out. What I did and said next was of the greatest importance, he was so open and vulnerable right then, I had to tread carefully.

"And you told Julie this, huh?"

"Yes." He whispered.

"I see. So where do we go from here?" I reasoned that anything that happened now had to be his decision, and done of his own free will.

"I don't know. I've never felt like this before."

"I understand. This can't be easy for you." I kept my voice soft and level, although I was shaking all over. It took a great effort of will to raise my coffee cup steadily to my lips and empty it. "Do you want some more coffee?"

"Yes! Yes please." He looked up at me, his face the picture of relief. I rose and walked through to the kitchen to refill our cups. As I was standing with my forehead resting against the cool, tiled wall, my hands over my face, hyperventilating I felt a pair of hands on my waist. My entire body stiffened, and I do mean my entire body! I could feel his breath on the back of my neck as I lowered my hands and placed them gently on top of his. I straightened up and Alex, who was a few inches taller, let his head rest on my shoulder. We stood like that for a few minutes and then I slowly turned and slipped my arms around him, he buried his face against the fabric of my shirt and sighed deeply, his hands never leaving my waist. I stroked his hair gently with one hand as his body shuddered against me. I realized that he was crying.

"Shh." I whispered to the top of his head. "It's all right, I'm here."

"I'm so confused, Ryan. I don't know what I want." I could barely hear him.

"I know, Alex. It's okay, really it is."

"Be patient with me, okay?" His muffled voice replied.

"Of course." I murmured back. "I would never hurt you." I'd rather cut off my own arm than ruin this moment, or do anything to scare him off. And that wasn't just my lust talking, I really cared very deeply about this sweet, innocent guy and I wanted to do anything I could to make him happy. After a while his breathing returned to something like normal, but I could feel his heart thumping in his chest, echoing mine.

"Thanks, Ryan." He pushed himself away from me gently. He seemed to be thanking me an awful lot lately, and all I was doing was standing there. "I think I should maybe sleep on this stuff, okay?"

"Okay." I was so disappointed, my spirits came hurtling back to earth, I had wanted to go on holding him all night. He took my hand and kissed the tips of my fingers and then turned to leave the room, he kept his grip until his arm was almost straight then he let go of my hand and left. Moments later I heard the door to his room closing and with a deep sigh I headed for my own room. My mind was in a turmoil, I didn't know what to think and I went through the motions of getting ready for bed more or less mechanically. I lay staring into the darkness, running through the night's events in my head and thinking about whether I could have said or done anything that would have made things turn out differently.

After what seemed like hours, I finally drifted off to a sleep troubled by dreams in which Alex danced around me, always just out of reach. Prophetic or what? When I awoke the following morning, I performed my usual mental boot-up, checking that I knew my name and where I was, that all my limbs were present and so on. Slowly, as things came into focus, I became aware that I was not alone in my room. I sat up quickly. Alex was sitting in a chair looking at me, one leg pulled up so his foot was on the chair and his chin was resting on his knees. Oh, 'why couldn't he be wearing shorts?' was my first thought, followed rapidly by, 'what is he doing in here?'

"Alex?"

"Yup. It's me." He was helpful as ever. "Morning."

"Good morning. What are you doing in here?" I wanted to know, but I didn't want to chase him out. "Not that I mind."

"I wanted to talk to you, and I was going to wake you." He indicated with a nod of his head a mug of tea on the nightstand. "But you looked so peaceful I didn't want to disturb you, so I just sat here for a bit, thinking."

"Thinking what."

"About what I wanted to say to you."

"This is getting circular." I wanted to be sympathetic, but I had no patience for games like this first thing on a Sunday morning.

"I guess. Can I get in?" He asked straightening his legs and clasping his hands together. This was not what I expected him to say next, this was turning into as much a voyage of discovery for me as for him.

"Yes. If you're sure you want to."

"I am. It was getting cold sitting here." He grinned at me and lifted the corner of the covers, slipping in alongside me. I scooted over to the left-hand side to allow him more space, not wanting to crowd him.

"Well keep your cold feet on your own side then." I smiled back at him. Cold feet are my pet hate.

"I'm going to keep everything on my side." He said very seriously, and I was about to apologize for my joke. "For now."

"You seem a lot friskier than last night."

"I've been thinking a lot."

"And?"

"And I still don't know. But I know I like you."

"Like me how?" I wanted to hear him say whatever he had to say, I wasn't willing to let him just allude to it in case I reached the wrong conclusions.

"As a friend."

"I see." Damn!

"And also, um, sexually?" It sounded like a question, but it was hard to tell, his hair had fallen over his face so I couldn't see his eyes and he spoke so quietly that it was impossible to judge his tone. I could understand why he was so hesitant, this was a big step for him.

"You don't sound sure."

"I'm not. But I am sure I want to try. I think."

"With me?" I wanted to be certain he knew what he was doing, I couldn't take the recriminations later if he didn't.

"Yes. But I don't want you to think I'm using you, Ryan. I mean, I don't think I'm ready for a boyfriend or anything. And I only want to do this if you do too. D'you see?"

"I think so. You only want me for my body, right?" Okay, maybe not the best time for another joke, but I couldn't resist. Here was the man of my dreams telling me he wanted me sexually, but didn't want all the emotional baggage. I could live with that.

"No! It's not like that." He protested vociferously.

"I know. I was kidding, you big lug. Now come over here and kiss me." And he did. The feelings that coursed through me as Alex's strong arms closed around me and his lips pressed tentatively against mine are indescribable. My stomach went into freefall as I allowed my mouth to open slightly, commands from my brain seemed to be moving more slowly than normal and my limbs were not responding. His tongue entered my mouth, making short, shallow forays into unexplored territory and then slowly gaining confidence as his first kiss from a man drew out into the pleasurable experience he had, apparently, been dreaming it would be. And the thought that those dreams had involved me was, frankly, the most arousing thing I could possibly imagine.

"That was nice." He said as he pulled gently away from me, his hands continued to rest on my upper body and he must have been able to feel me shaking as I regained control of myself.

"Nice? It was sensational, Alex." We repeated the whole thing, this time holding it for a little longer as our tongues dueled lazily with one another.

"Can we keep going?" He asked with a shyness that belied his enthusiastic kisses when we broke for the second time.

"God, yes!" How could he ask such a stupid question? His gentle hands were moving in slow, lazy circles on my body and one drifted to the waistband of my shorts and hesitated there. He looked up at me with those big, brown eyes that melted my heart every time.

"Can I see you, um, naked?"

"Yes." I lifted up a little and allowed him to slip my shorts down, they caught on my erection, but we soon negotiated that hurdle and I was lying naked alongside him clad, as he was, in full length pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. I felt strangely exposed, not least because my body, though far from unimpressive, was nothing like as well defined as his.

"It's big." He said a little apprehensively, holding the covers up to allow light in the better to survey my nakedness.

"About average." I replied with uncharacteristic, and perhaps unnecessary, honesty.

"Can I touch it?"

"I sincerely hope so!" So maybe pedantry wasn't called for, but it was the first thought that popped into my head. He smiled at me, and with the hand not holding up the covers, traced his fingers down my bare chest, and tremblingly encircled my shaft. The sensation was electric and it coursed through my entire body, I could scarcely believe that I had in fact woken up. I let out a low groan and, startled, he let go obviously afraid he's hurt me. I burst out laughing at him and a confused look appeared on his face.

"What?"

"Alex, if we're going to do this you're going to have to learn the difference between a moan of pain and one of pleasure!" I leaned forward and kissed him lightly, his expression softened and I ruffled his hair gently. "Now come closer and do that again." He snuggled against me, his arm between our two bodies and he renewed his grip, his lips pressing insistently against mine, allowing the covers to drop back over us. What bliss as his hand worked slowly up and down, stimulating me just enough to make my breathing ragged, but not enough to break the quiet eroticism of the moment.

"Is that okay?" He quietly sought validation for his actions.

"Yes. You must've done this before."

"Only to myself." He replied and his eyes danced with amusement. I wanted to hold him to me and never let him get away. Careful not to move suddenly, I rolled him onto his back and instructed him to relax as I peeled his T-shirt up and off. I wanted Alex's first time to be the best he'd ever had, I was determined to give him my all. He lay still, looking up at me, his eyes wide as I knelt astride his recumbent body. "Go slowly." He whispered.

"I will. And if I do anything you don't like, just tell me to stop."

He nodded and bit his lower lip as I lowered my lips to his beautiful chest. I had admired his body for so long, now here I was naked and straddling him, my lips brushing across the hard little nubs of his nipples. Under my buttocks, I could feel his arousal, and felt him twitch as my teeth grazed the sensitive buds. He was like a Greek god, everything was perfectly in proportion and knowing how hard he had worked to get that body I treated it with all due reverence. His breathing was ragged as I kissed my way down to the waistband of his pajamas and paused there for a moment to look up at his handsome face which was flushed red.

"Don't stop." He whispered, his voice catching.

"Lift up." I instructed and he complied wordlessly. At last, I was going to see what I had only imagined up until now. I slid the pajamas down his long, muscular legs, fixing my eyes on the descending waistband until they were off completely. Then, and only then, did I allow myself an upward glance, and I was not disappointed. When I say everything was perfectly in proportion, I really mean everything was, just as I imagined it would be. "Oh, God, you're so beautiful." I murmured as my attention focused on his groin. I kissed his inner thighs gently making my way up to my ultimate goal. Taking him in my hand, I mimicked the movement he had use don me as I slid up to kiss him some more. His strong arms were around me instantly, his mouth was dry but I soon dealt with that.

"That feels so good." He moaned as I continued to stroke.

"This will feel better." I replied and headed back down, running my tongue from root to crown as though licking an ice cream. He tensed all over and his fingers clawed at the sheet. "You like that?" I looked up at him, he was biting his lower lip again and his eyes were closed.

"Oh yes!" He grunted.

"Want me to do it again?"

"Yes."

"You're sure about this?" There could be no doubt of his answer, but I wanted to tease him a little more, let anticipation work its magic.

"For God's sake, Ryan, shut up and suck me!" He finally snapped.

"Your wish is my command." This time I took the head into my mouth and worked my tongue around the sensitive underside and from the way his body twitched, I can only assume he enjoyed it.

"Wait!" He gasped.

"What?" I stopped what I was doing.

"Turn so I can reach you." He blushed as he looked at me. "I want us to come together."

"You old romantic." I replied sardonically, but obliged him, moving so our bodies formed a T shape with my legs stretching towards his head and my head still level with his groin. I resumed my task, and as I did so he sat up a little, laying one hand on my shoulder, regulating the pace of my up and down movements. His other hand sought out my shaft and began a rhythmic motion of its own which was soon driving me crazy and making it hard to concentrate on my own task. I wrapped my left hand round the base of his shaft and my right stroked his back and thigh. The room was silent except for the soft slurping noises, occasional whimpering and the sound of labored breathing.

As I felt myself nearing orgasm from his ministrations I remembered what he had said about coming together and played my final trump. I swallowed his member all the way to the base and this new sensation made him suck in his breath sharply and completely lose his rhythm. He quickly recovered though and I felt my balls tighten in their sack and knew that I was very near. I redoubled my efforts to bring him off at the same time, swallowing him again and again and working hard with my tongue and lips to give him pleasure. His grunting became more erratic and I knew it was working, suddenly I felt him tense and my mouth was flooded with his semen. Bare moments later, I exploded too spending myself all over the bed sheets and his hand.

As I sat up he sagged back against the pillows and closed his eyes. One hand rested on my thigh and a beatific smile was on his lips. He lay still for a few moments, and I adjusted my position so I was lying alongside him, my hand making out little patterns on his smooth skin. I lay in silence, enjoying the warm glow and the fantastic feeling of having given such pleasure to Alex. He seemed to have dozed off, as his breathing became deeper and more regular, but I didn't mind I was happy just to be able to lie and look at him. I pulled the covers up over both of us and lay on my side to watch him. At length, maybe forty minutes or so later, his eyes opened and he gave me a wonderfully goofy, lop-sided grin.

"That was amazing, Ryan."

"Thanks. You were fantastic."

"I want you to teach me how to do that." He paused and took a deep breath before going on. "So I can do it to you."

"I'd like that." I replied, and not a word of a lie! So there was to be a next time, I had passed the test.

That was the first of many times Alex and I have had sex together and now, six weeks into the semester we sleep together every night. He hasn't had a girlfriend since he split up with Julie. Though he continues to maintain that he finds women attractive as he did before and that he feels nothing for any man other than me. This is a distinction that I feel I can live with. Whether he'll ever be able to be open about our relationship remains to be seen, but he has grown a lot as a person since I met him and I am confident that things will work out for the best. The bond between us is stronger than ever and although to the outside world we are only roommates and good friends I know that really we are so much more.