The past week has been tolerable. Lionel and I have talked a lot but the incident is now the elephant in the room. We don't talk about it, but I think we both need it this way. I'm scared that rubbing his nose in to who I am will only push him away and that is the last thing I want to do. I've talked to my mother a few times since Lionel and I made up and she's still bitter because I didn't tell her what was going on right away. Sometimes she can be really needy. She's so afraid of being a bad mother, or having me lose touch with her, that she fails to distinguish between my personal business and her motherly rights. I don't understand why she's so desperate to be needed. I know my father needs her enough for the both of us.
I have so much work to do this week. I have a paper due in two of my classes, I just started a work study job, and as if that isn't enough, I workout in the morning with Lionel. We usually go for a morning run and then hit the gym to lift a few weights. I tend to play around in the weight room, but Lionel is always serious and makes sure he gets a good workout. I keep telling Lionel that we don't need to workout before the first practice. We never did that in high school. Back then, we played pick up games of basketball year round so we were always ready to go. College is different though. I don't hang out with same type of crowd. Lionel, however, is surrounded by basketball types and seems to always be talking about some pickup game he played. It's no longer us, it's just Lionel, just Lucas. We've both made adjustments to college, I just wish we were making them together.
I have talked to Michael everyday this week. He has been such a good friend to me and his advice has been good as well. I think I would have driven myself crazy by now if he wasn't around to keep me sane. I want to tell him he's my best friend, but I don't want to hurt his feelings. Calling him my best friend is just as good as castrating him. At least that's how he will see it. He has issues of his own to work through, mostly with friendships gone awry. Things and people were so much simpler in high school. But I wouldn't go back there to save my life.
Lionel in to the room wearing only a towel and my attention is immediately focused on the here and now. I try not to stare at him. I pretend to read my book, but I keep glancing up as he walks between his bed and his closet. He's looking for something to wear and depressing me at the same time. Watching him walk back and forth makes me feel sad because I know I will never have him the way I want him. I am in the process of studying his back with my eyes and appreciating the nice contrast between the white towel and his chocolate skin. His butt looks perfect in his towel. I just want to walk over and grab his ass, but I know that is the worse thing I can do. He moves to turn around and I stare back at the book.
"Yo Lucas." I look up at him with his upper body exposed. I have to remind myself to keep looking up. I find his eyes and try to keep my gaze above his neck. He hadn't pranced around half naked since the incident, and now he is basically parading his body for me to see. He had to know he was eye candy. The thought of how badly I want him, reminds me that I am sad. I look away from Lionel and glance towards the door. I hope he hasn't noticed the look in my eyes. "Lucas!" I look up at him without thinking. He notices the and I can see the question developing in his head. "What's wrong man?"
"Nothing." My voice is a little shaky.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, man. This book just reminded me of something." I knew it was a bad lie the second the words left my lips.
"Really? Is math that bad?" He gives a half laugh.
Shit. I'm an idiot. I'm sitting here with my nose buried in a math book talking about the book reminded me of something. "I was just thinking that I might actually fail Calculus II. I don't know what possessed me to sign up for it." I feel a tear drop and I donn't know what to say, so I babble some more. "If I fail, I won't be on the basketball team, and I'd rather die." I know that wasn't true. My other grades would easily cover up an F, plus I was doing okay in math. I would at least get a B. I was really having a meltdown. Lionel and I hadn't talked about my being gay since he came back. He didn't even try to delve in to why I was saying Lionel when the guy's name was Michael. He dropped the discussion and that was it, and I let him drop it. Now I was stuck wondering what he thought of me, and constantly reminding myself that there was no hope for us. I was talking about math, but my tears were for him, for us.
He came over to me and pulled me in to a hug. I dropped the book and hugged him back. My nose was crushed against his chest and the tears began to fall even faster. "Relax man, you won't fail math, and even if you do, you'll still be on the team." His voice sounded fatherly as he tried to soothe me. I wasn't thinking about his voice though. I was distracted by the feel of his bare flesh under my hands. I rubbed my hands up and down his back a few times before I stopped myself. I turned my face to the side so that my ear was now pressed firmly against his chest. I could hear his heart beat, but all I was thinking about was how good he smelled. I wanted to stick out my tongue and lick his beautiful skin, but I would never do that.
"I can't do this," I said. "I've made a mess of everything."
"Just relax. Everything will be okay." I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to tell him that nothing would ever be okay again. I wanted to tell him that he's not the one secretly in love with his roommate. There were so many things I wanted to say, but only my sniffles could be heard. "Come on man. Stop that! You can get a tutor and everything will be fine." He lifted one of his hands and rubbed it through my hair. "Come on. Get a grip." I love you,' I thought, How's that for a grip?' Suddenly, I heard Lionel speaking in a playful and almost devilish voice, "I know what will make you stop crying." He started tickling me and I could not help but laugh. I crumpled down on my bed and tried to use my arms to protect myself, but his assault was relentless. I didn't stop laughing until his fingers stopped attacking my body. I felt much better, and not just because Lionel was touching me and playing with me, but because I finally had a good cry. My mother always told me nothing lifts the spirits from the dumps like a good cry. Each tear is a small piece of the pain falling away. Eventually so many pieces fall away that the pain hurts a little less, and then one day, so many pieces have fallen that there are no more pieces left for that pain. I wondered when I would finally be all cried out over Lionel.
I realized that I had been sitting there for a few seconds, so I looked up and unexpectedly made eye contact with Lionel. The look in his eyes told me he was waiting for me to say something. I wiped my tear-stained face on my shirt. "Sorry about that. I guess I was having a gay moment." I wanted to shoot myself the second the sentence was floated out in to the air for him to hear. Why was I putting my foot in my mouth so many times today?
To my surprise, he smiled and said, "Yeah, I guess you were." He walked back to his bed and picked up two jerseys. He turned around and held them up for me to see. "Now back to my original question, which one should I wear tonight?"
I wanted to say, `Gee thanks for caring. I have an emotional meltdown and you ask me which shirt you should wear.' But all I said was, "The white one, it looks nice with your complexion." I grabbed my dick through my shorts as I said it, and gave it a squeeze. I was hoping to relieve some tension between us. This was something I would have done without question 2 weeks ago, but here I was, thinking about it.
Lionel's smile got wider. "Fuck you!" That was just the
response I was looking for. He reached to grab his package
through the towel to return the gesture, but his towel fell
down instead. His gorgeous body was a flash of brown as he
bent down quickly to pick up the towel and put it back
around his waist. I wish I could have seen something, but
maybe next time.
"So where are you off to this evening?"
"Hot date."
"Oh. Do I know her?"
"Probably not."
"Oh." I picked up my math book and tried to find the next lesson. I wanted to appear busy so that when the awkward pause occurred I would have an excuse. Just as I suspected, the pause stretched out for minutes. Lionel put on his clothes and I sat on my bed pretending to work, but really stealing glances at him. The silence wasn't broken until 20 minutes later when he said goodbye.
I was left in my room, alone as usual, with nothing but time to think. I call Michael and tell him about my meltdown. He tries to tell me its okay, but we both know it isn't. After a few minutes of talking, I decide to go over to his place. I pack up a few things and leave a note for Lionel telling him that I'll be gone for the night.
I get to Michael's house and a few of our friends are over there. We all sit down and talk about the mess I'm in. Everyone has an opinion: don't mess with your roommate; leave friends alone; everyone is fair game; if you really love him, you should go after him; you need to have the talk with him. I am happy when they all leave. I just want to be alone with Michael. We take off our clothes and cuddle in his bed. We haven't had sex since the incident and I'm starting to think we'll never have sex again. He doesn't bring it up and whenever I try to get a conversation going about it, he always says I'm not ready. He's right, though. I don't really want to have sex with him, I want to have sex with Lionel. It's always been Lionel, and it wasn't fair to Michael to pretend like he was Lionel. Michael says I didn't use him because he enjoyed being with me, but we both know that I did use him. Until I can get my head straight about Lionel, I'm not going to mess with any guys. Well, I'm going to try not to mess with any guys. Michael has given me all the comfort and companionship I could ever ask for from a friend. We fall asleep with me snuggled up in his arms.
I open my eyes in the middle of the night and I am not sure what woke me up. I feel a finger poke my arm. "Wake up Lucas and get your damn phone!"
I am only faintly aware of a ringing sound, "Huh? It'll stop in a minute." I sluggishly roll over trying to go back to sleep, but I feel the same poking sensation on my arm. "What?" I growl at Michael.
"It must be important. It's been ringing for at least ten minutes. Whoever it is keeps hanging up and calling back."
"Okay, okay. I'll get it." My eyes are only partly open when I roll out of the bed and try to find my phone in the dark. There appears to be a little bit of light coming from my pants pocket so I bend down and pick up the phone. I look at my caller id, but there is no name there. I pick up the phone and my voice cracks as I say hello.
"You're with him, aren't you?" The voice sounds familiar, but it is somehow different. The voice is hostile, sad, and drunk all at the same time. My eyes shoot open and I am fully alert. "Of course you would be. What the hell am I thinking? I'm in bad shape. I need you, and you know we need to talk, but I don't want to talk, I'm scared to talk about it. Something's wrong with me. Will you come get me?" The words were slurred but I think I understood most of them correctly.
"Where are you at?"
"I'm in our room. Where are you? No don't tell me." I can hear that something is wrong with him. This intense feeling of needing to be there for him takes over. I jump in my clothes. I give Michael the concise version, omitting the fact that something was definitely wrong because Lionel doesn't usually drink enough to get drunk. Michael offers to drive me, but I decide to go by myself. I have to face this alone.
c Lustyville 2005 Please send comments to lustyville@yahoo.com and check out my yahoo group at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lustyville.