Originally I had intended this series to be a brief "Slam-Bam-Thank-You-Man" story, but I'm becoming rather curious about the characters myself now. I want to know more about them, and I've received a couple of e-mails from people telling me that they've enjoyed the building romance. I hope the rest of you guys do too!
Private School Roommate - Part 3
Blake told me he loved me. It seemed so ridiculous. My majestic white knight. He rescued me. He loved me.
I untangled myself from the sheets and got out of the bed, leaving Blake's large muscled form asleep under the covers. His hair was all mussed and stubble had grown in overnight. He looked so peaceful, he was so beautiful. I couldn't believe that anybody so beautiful could ever have wanted me. I was so skinny. I was so plain. The invisible man.
"Blake has a girlfriend," I told myself. He couldn't possibly want me. Beautiful Laura. Cheerleader Laura. The two of them are a perfect match.
I quickly put on my school uniform grabbed my book bag, and left the room quietly so I wouldn't wake Blake. The residence was still quiet as I padded down the hall to the washroom. A couple of early birds were also up. I'll admit that I looked back at the shower through the mirror as I brushed my teeth. I hadn't realised how much I enjoyed looking at the other boys before the night before. Now, I was becoming rather curious. I watched Ben, the boy who lived in the room next door, shower. He had a normal adolescent body. He was no Blake, but still, I found it oddly exciting to look at him.
I finished brushing and put my toothbrush in my backpack and headed to the dining hall. As usual, I went and ate by myself in the corner of the large room. I hurried through the meal, because I hated to be seen by myself. Usually I would eat quickly and then tuck myself into the library where I would do homework or read. This way there was less chance that anybody would notice me, that I might get picked on.
I had finished my breakfast and was putting my dishes on the dolly next to the kitchen when I saw Blake walk in. My stomach caught, and a lump formed in my throat. He was looking around the dining hall, and I saw him go up to some of his friends to ask them something. I quickly slipped out of the hall under the cover of a group of other students.
I hid in the library until classes started, and managed to avoid Blake for the rest of the day. My mind was in turmoil. I lived and relived each wonderful moment of the night before, but accompanying it came a feeling of utter dread. What did it all mean? What kind of person was I? What did it all mean to Blake?
In many ways while I longed to see him again, I was angry at Blake. I had been so safe in my little world, alone, isolated. Then he came, with a promise to take me away, to free me of my self-imposed prison. Where he might lead me though was a frightening, terrifying place. I didn't know that I would want to go there. And how could I trust him? How could I let somebody into my life when I had spent so much of it being shit on by people, being looked down on. How was I sure that he wouldn't eventually become like Frank and his pack, that I wouldn't be alone again, and that it would be all the worse because I had thought of Blake as a friend.
I managed to avoid Blake all day, and since he didn't have the same lunch period as me, it wasn't until dinner that he managed corner me in the dining hall.
"Is this seat taken?"
I looked up and saw the green eyes that I had looked into so deeply the night before. The sun was setting through the windows of the dining hall, and the other residence students had filed in for the evening meal. It was a buffet-style meal tonight, so I was able to choose my table. As usual I sat alone. "Uh...no. No it isn't," I replied.
"You weren't in bed when I woke up this morning," Blake said softly as he sat down, placing his dinner tray down in front of him. A note of regret coloured his words.
"I had to go to the library."
"Is that where you go every morning? 'Cuz I normally never see you at breakfast either."
I didn't answer him. I looked at my tray, at the half eaten meal. He used his fork to push the food around on his plate. Silence fell between us for a short time, while at the other tables, the students were joking and laughing and eating their food. We sat uncomfortably together, staring at our meals and fidgeting in our seats. "I won't tell anybody about what happened last night, if that's what you're worried about," I said as I got up. "Just don't you tell anybody either, okay?" I picked up my unfinished dinner and went to put the tray away. As I left, I glanced over my shoulder. The sunlight came in the window behind Blake. It shone through his blonde hair like a halo, and I will never forget the look of hurt that I had left on his face.
I retreated once again to the library where I opened books that I didn't read. I sat quietly staring at the words, unable to string them together to understand a sentence. Guilt and hurt churned in my stomach as I fought back tears, remembering Blake's expression when I left him in the dining hall. I looked out the window next to me at the sun as it set over the snow covered town. Streamers of smoke curled upward from a couple of houses in the distance, while underneath the window in front of the school, I saw Blake's friends laughing and playing in the snow. They were all people who would probably never associate with me. The beautiful athletic kids who I could never have the opportunity to know.
I turned my gaze back to scan the library and the other studying students when I saw Blake watching me from the doorway. When he saw that I had seen him, he quickly turned and left.
The librarian made an announcement that the library would be closing soon, and I packed up my books and left. I walked down the staircase to get to the boys' residence when I saw Frank and his friends. I chuckled when I saw that his friend had a black eye from the when Blake hit him the night before and that Frank himself was favouring a shoulder I assumed he'd hurt when Blake threw him to the ground.
I managed to avoid them by going down a back hallway. Why was I so afraid of Blake? Why couldn't I just believe him? He wasn't like everybody else. He never ignored me. Whenever we were in the room together he always tried to start conversations which I would quickly finish for him. I didn't want to be patronised, I didn't want pity. I wanted to be strong, to be independent. I refused to be a charity case for some jock who only wanted to add a merit badge... or maybe all he really wanted was a hole to plug. Girls were always complaining about how men take advantage of them, that they only want one thing. How sure was I that Blake wasn't one of those guys as well? Couldn't he be the same, only he liked guys?
This last thought filled me with anger, resentment. Had he taken advantage of the situation? I was exhausted and emotionally weak from Frank's attack the night before, perhaps he saw an opportunity. Blake was probably one of those dirty fags who took advantage of young guys like myself and then threw us away as if we were nothing.
I carried this thought with me through the school, and the anger stayed with me as I climbed the stairs of the boys' residence. It smouldered in my head until I opened the door to my room and looked inside. Blake was sitting at his desk and turned around when he heard me come in. The look on his face washed away every angry thought I had been formulating in my head and replaced it with the heavy weight of shame.
I gathered my things for the bathroom and left the room, my face burning. I showered and brushed my teeth, trying to hold onto the anger I had before, trying to make myself strong with it, but it slipped away from me like so much sand through the fingers. When I got back to the room Blake was already in bed. I got into my own, trying my hardest not to look at him, but feeling his sad lonely eyes on me the whole time.
I turned off the light plunging the room into darkness. The routine of the night continued as normal. The sounds of the building died down as the residence students found their bedrooms and the proctor knocked on our door and poked his head in briefly to be certain we were there. The building shut down and silence filled in, emptying the residence of its scurrying life.
I don't know how long Blake and I lay there in silence. I tried to sleep, but the tense quiet lay over us like a blanket, smothering me. I wanted to break it so badly, but was afraid to do so. Each time I came close to saying something, a part of me would catch it and the words would evaporate in the air between us. I felt ridiculous. I did not think anything I could say would be able to bridge the gulf that now lay between us.
Finally, inevitably, Blake spoke. A shocking whisper in the dead swollen silence of the room. "I wasn't lying, John. Last night. I really do... feel that way about you."
I answered him with silence.
"Please say something," he whispered, his voice strained. "I've never wanted to be with anybody before I met you. I always thought that I could just live my life the way I'm supposed to, but I can't anymore. I can't, and it's because of you."
"I don't believe you," I said. My voice was clear and confident, and that surprised me. How could I believe him? How could I take that kind of risk? After everything I've ever gone through, how could I risk believing him? "Why would you want me?"
I heard Blake turn in his bed to face me. He was silent for a moment, processing what I had just said. "How can I not?" he replied. "I don't know why John, to be honest. I... I love you." He got out of his bed, and I watched as he revealed his beautiful body from under the covers. I sat up and retreated to the other side of the bed, backed against the wall. He sat down on the edge. "I always wanted to be your friend, but you wouldn't let me. I... when the other guys treated you the way they did, it hurt me, but I was so scared to say anything because... because I didn't want anybody to know I'm..." His head hung low, a deep sadness filled his voice. "It doesn't matter anymore. Last night... I meant everything I said. I still feel the same way about you as I did then. I was looking for you today at breakfast, and then when I saw you at dinner... I..."
I watched Blake's hunched back. He looked so fragile. This strong powerful body was only a shell, a mask. Though beautiful in its strength it held something so delicate, so tender. I hadn't broken it, but I had certainly damaged it. It was soft and warm, and it hurt, and it hurt because it was afraid that it couldn't have me.
I reached out my hand and touched Blake's hair. I stroked it with my fingers. I reached over to wipe away the tears on his cheeks, but he pulled away, ashamed, ashamed that his masculine strength had failed him, that I could see his human frailty. He didn't realise that that frailty was what made him so beautiful to me in the moonlight. I moved next to him on my bed and put my arm over his shoulders. I continued to stroke his hair, uncertain of how I was supposed to be acting. It was all so new to me. He kept his back to me, and I felt such guilt for how I had treated him. I didn't want to have this responsibility, I didn't want to care how I was making somebody else feel. I had been alone so long, I had forgotten what that kind of responsibility felt like.
Right at that moment, I needed him as much as he needed me. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I wanted to be with him to fill that gaping emptiness that slept inside of me. I hugged him from behind, my arms draped over his shoulders, I pressed my lips to the back of his neck and kissed him. I didn't want to be alone.
Blake turned to me, and I saw the tears in his eyes and I kissed them off his cheeks. He sat passive, uncertain I think, afraid that I would turn and reject him again. I found his lips and touched them with my own. I kissed him tenderly, his stubble scraping my lips. I kissed him again, this time lingering and lightly holding him in the tenderness of that small, gentle touch. He parted his lips slightly, and I tilted my head to the side, and opened my mouth to his. I caressed him and tentatively probed his mouth with my tongue and his tongue came to meet mine, gently touching, holding, feeling. Our kissing had a different quality that night, all tenderness and affection.
Still kissing him, I put my hands on his strong, muscled chest and pushed him gently down onto my bed. I slowly made my way down his neck, laying kiss after kiss on him. I worked my way down and tongued and kissed his chest, worshipping its strength and beauty. I massaged his pecs with my hands and then groped his stomach, enthralled by how firm and flat it was. I noticed that when my fingers brushed past his nipples, he twitched from the sensitivity. I bent down and licked them, and he moaned softly into the cool air of our room. I continued to work them, and revelled in the reaction that I got out of him, I tongued them repeatedly, working one and then the other. He lifted his naked legs up and wrapped them around me, pulling me into him as he caressed my back and stroked my hair as I worked on the nubs of his nipples.
As he pulled me close to him with his legs, I felt his hard cock against my stomach. It was so hard against me, but the skin was so smooth. I could feel that it was wet, the tip dripping with precum. I parted Blake's legs to release myself. I looked into his eyes, I saw that his cheeks were still wet from tears. It seemed almost incongruous that such a strong face, that such a strong man could have tears in his eyes.
I took his cock in my mouth, and all the breath left him. He lifted his hips off the bed and shoved his manhood deep into my throat. I worked on him for a while as he stroked my hair. He murmured to me constantly as I went down on him.
I released him, and moved up over his body to kiss him again. I looked deep into his eyes as I reached back and took his cock in my hand and positioned its wet head against my hole. I held his eyes as I pushed back against it, slowly taking it inside me. I watched as his eyes glazed over with joy as I took him into my body. His mouth opened and a silent moan played on his lips as I took him. I sat down completely on him, but we still held each others' gaze. I leaned down and kissed him gently.
We slowly made love like that, myself on top, him underneath. We didn't reach the same heights of ecstasy that we had the night before. This time was very different. We weren't as passionate, but we were far more loving. As I moved up and down on him, he held my arms and we watched each other's faces, simply enjoying the intimate sharing that was taking place between us, within us. We enjoyed the sense that we were no longer alone, Blake filled that emptiness within me through this intimacy, through this sharing of our bodies.
Neither of us reached a climax that night. We didn't feel the need for it. We made love for hours, never stopping. It wasn't the physical pleasure that we worked for, it was the sense that we weren't alone so long as we made love, and deep within us we were afraid that a climax would mean an end to that.
When our lovemaking slowed and eventually stopped, we still held each other into the night. We whispered secret promises to one another, as new lovers always do. We touched each other in delicate and tender places and claimed those places as our own. All night we extolled affection on one another, loving each other in the darkness.
"I love you," Blake said as he fell asleep. His heavy arm lay across my chest, his head on my shoulder. I lay on my back and held his heavy form to my small lithe body and closed my eyes.
In the silence of his sleep, I felt the shame come back. We had made love again that night. All night, he so fervently insisted how he loved me. He repeated it over and over to me, as we lay tangled on my bed. He swore to me that he would love me for as long as he lived. But I remained silent.
I didn't know if I loved him.
To be continued...