I sat in the cafeteria, watching Patrick Hughes talking to John Charleston. John had his hand on Pat's thigh. He suddenly moved his hand and ruffled Pat's cottony soft black hair. I've rubbed my hands through his hair like that before, but only as his associate, never as his close friend, never as his lover. I'm so jealous of John. Why does he get to be so close to Patrick? At first, I thought Drew was the real threat, but after seeing the way Pat interacts with the two of them, I know its John that I have to look out for. And here he is, in the middle of the cafeteria flirting with my man. Of course Pat doesn't know he's my man yet, but I've been planning my seduction of him for over a year now, and I think senior year is my time, no, scratch that, senior year is our time. Pat and Kyle, together at last. Ahhh. I can't help but sigh from the images of him and me.
I looked at Pat's table and it was a who's who of Clairmont High. Pat was the captain of the hockey team. John was the student council president. Drew was the captain of the football team. Laurie was the head cheerleader. Valerie was the soccer queen, and Jessica and Rachel were cheerleaders and two of the most sought after girls at Clairmont. The only person missing was Chris, the co-captain of the basketball team, and Jessica's on again, off again boyfriend. I think Chris and Pat would make a cute couple. They would be like tall, dark and handsome squared or something. Chris had black, curly hair that he would sometimes slick back. His facial features were striking and his eyes were scary yet captivating. At first glance, his eyes were like a bottomless black pit, but upon closer inspection, you could see a hint of brown that contrasted perfectly with his dark hair and slightly brooding features. He was 6'2" tall and the star guard on the basketball team. He had a yummy basketball player build, which means he was lean, yet muscular and tone and sexy. Pat just had rugged boyish good looks. He was 5'11" but he always said he was 6 feet. He had jet black hair that was sort of wavy and just reached the nape of his neck. His eyes were an odd looking light hazel color. The color didn't seem right on him, and yet the color was perfect for him. I always feared that he could see my thoughts with those piercing eyes of his. His body was that perfect combination of definition and softness. He looked like a sculpture by a famous artist, perfectly chiseled and smooth to the touch. I couldn't wait to rub my fingers over the contours of his body.
Thinking of Pat was getting me a little excited. I reached down and adjusted my package. I tried to think of things that would take my mind off him. I looked at his table again and I wondered why the breathtakingly beautiful people always seem to find each other. I wish I looked like any of those guys. I wished I had Pat's confidence. I heard he had a party to announce he was gay.
I've never talked to Pat about him being gay but that's because I rarely talked to him outside the hockey locker room, so our conversations were generally pretty manly. I knew it was a stupid thought, but nothing about him was gay. He looked straight and he acted straight. I can't count how many fights he's gotten in to on the ice, or how many times he's been hit really hard and just got back up. I mean this guy had his nose broken once during a game, and he didn't cry. His face turned red and there was a lot of blood, but he remained calm. I, however, love hockey but I run whenever someone charges at me. What can I say, even with all that padding on, I'm still afraid of being hit. My teammates often compliment me on how swift I am on the ice. I don't have the heart to tell them that it's not finesse, its fear. I have to be faster, swifter, and more nimble than the other players so that I don't get hit that much.
Pat once told me Drew was a man's man, well Pat's a man's man too, maybe that's why he gets along so well with Drew. I mean Pat is so much of a man, that there was no hesitation about picking him as the captain, even though everyone knew that he was gay. I don't know how Pat does it. This guy will get in the shower with the rest of the team and not get hard once. I take one look at him and I'm instantly hard. I never shower after practice or games anymore. I am forced to wear my funk home.
Pat contradicted just about every stereotype there was about gay men. You could tell by the way people treated him, that they didn't see him as a gay guy, but rather as a guy who happened to be gay. I know it doesn't sound like much of a difference when it's put in to words, but trust me, you can really see the difference when it's put in to actions.
"Stop drooling Loverboy." I looked up and there was Nick, my best friend. He knew I was gay and he knew I had the biggest crush on Pat. He also knew that I wasn't even on Pat's radar. Nick and I were the only two people from our group who had lunch during this band. A few girls had tried to infiltrate our table, but we made it clear that we didn't want company. I could have a lot of friends if I wanted to, but I preferred quality when it came to friends, not quantity. Nick was definitely quality. We used to jerk off together and we still do occasionally, when Nick doesn't have a girlfriend. Last year, in the middle of a jerk off session, he told me I was gay and that it was fine with him. Talk about ruining the moment. I sat there for what felt like eternity, with my now soft dick in my hand trying to figure out what I should say to him. He came over to me and began to stroke my dick the way we did when we were younger, before touching each other made us "gay." I quickly lost my nervousness and hardened under his gentle touch. He only had to stroke me for a few minutes before I shot in his hand and on his thigh. He grabbed his towel and cleaned up the mess. Once I came down from the excitement, the horror of what just happened and what might happen next set in. Nick laughed at the change in my face and as if he was reading my mind he said, "Relax, Stud. I'm not gay. I don't want to fuck your brains out tonight." I gave him a nervous smile. He continued, "I just wanted to show you that I am completely okay with every part of you. You're my best friend and I never want you to keep any secrets from me. I love you, man." He put his left hand, the completely clean hand, on my cheek. "Besides, how could anyone not realize that you're in love with Patrick Hughes?"
My lungs emptied themselves and I tried to stay perfectly still hoping that somehow not moving would make the entire situation just go away. I think I was trying to disappear. By not breathing I would cease to be. I would fade in to the chair and vanish before his eyes. Unfortunately I am not a magician. Nick said, "Man, it's okay. Calm down. Breathe." I got up and put on my clothes. I felt confused and dirty and disgusting and perverted and just physically ill. Nick grabbed my arm to stop me as I tried to make a run for the door.
"Nick, leave me alone! I just need to be alone!" I could feel the tears fill up my eyes with their bitter wetness. I ripped my arm out of his grip and ran down the stairs. I ran out of his house as fast as I could. I know I didn't take a full breath until I was outside. The fresh air filled my lungs with such intensity that I feared I would collapse. I made it to my car and I got inside. I closed the door and locked it as the first tear stung my cheek. I quickly wiped the tear away. Real men don't cry. I heard my passenger door being unlocked. I looked over just in time to watch Nick, clad only in plaid boxers, slide into the passenger seat. Why did I ever give him a key to my car? I know we basically shared the car and so it was convenient to give him a key. It was smart to give him a key. This way I didn't have to give it to him every time he drove and then remember to get it back from him later. I didn't have to walk the four houses down to his house in the winter, just to get my key and walk back to my house. The idiot was always putting my key in his pocket and walking home without giving me my key back. I was smart to give him a key. I was! But now I didn't feel so smart. How do you run away from someone who has a key to every place you might hide? I looked over at him and he was crying.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Kyle. I was just trying to help. I had this stupid idea that we would get this out in the open and I would help you get Pat just like you helped me get Britney last year. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I did or said that offended you, but whatever it was, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me." I pulled him over to me and embraced him. That was the way it was suppose to be. I was his protector, his comforter, his buddy in crime, I was all of these things. I was his shoulder to lean on, and his shirt to cry on when his father died in 6th grade, and when Britney dumped him for a jock over the summer, I was the only person he would talk to for a week. It was my job to be there for him and I think him taking charge like that in the bedroom threatened my position in the dynamic of our friendship. He was usurping a role reserved for me and I think his ability to read my mind and understand me on such an intimate level shocked and frightened. Of course I say that now in retrospect and after a year of thinking about it, but I understand now that I didn't flip out because he knew I was gay and I had a crush on Pat, I flipped out because I assumed that me being gay would forever alter the friendship that we had. Fortunately, nothing changed about our friendship except that now I talked about how hot Pat was instead of pretending to be in to some girl.
"Loverboy, why don't you just go over there and tell Pat you need to talk to him? I can't watch you pine over him anymore. I mean you know he's gay. What's the problem?"
"Just because he's gay does not mean he likes me. Gay guys are just like straight guys, they're not attracted to everybody. Have you learned nothing from me over the past year?" Nick crumpled up a napkin and threw it at me. "Besides, I know I'm not his type. I mean look at them. They're all so gorgeous. And look at him and John, sitting all close to each other, how can I compete with a guy who looks like that?"
"Don't sell yourself short Kyle. You're a handsome guy."
"You're my best friend, you have to say that."
"No, I don't. I would tell you if you were ugly, but you're not. Do you want to know what the girls say about you?"
"Not really."
"Yes, you do. Britney's friend Kathy was always asking me to hook her up with you. `Kyle is so cute. Kyle is so perfect. Kyle is so nice. I love his body. He's got like a swimmer's body, but he plays hockey, and he's the perfect height for me."
"Notice, she never said I was hot."
"Yes, she did. She said, and I quote "Kyle doesn't know how hot he really is. I'd let him tap this ass all night."
"She didn't say that."
He laughed. "Okay, she didn't. But if I was in to guys, I'd let you tap my ass."
"Shut up."
"I would!" He couldn't even keep a straight face when he said it. "I mean you're sweet and charming. You're quirky, but just the right combination of quirkiness and normality. You're stupidly complicated. I mean you would beat a guy down for hassling me, but you'd run away from the same guy if he was hassling you." I laughed because it was true, and that had happened before. "You're a pleasure to be around. You work out just like those guys over there and your body is just as good if not better. You're intelligent. You're creative. You're supportive. You're the best friend a guy could ask for." He leaned across the table and whispered, "And if I remember correctly, you're a great kisser too." I blushed. "And your cheeks get so rosy when you blush and you're just so cute. How could a guy not want you?"
"Okay, shut up already!"
"What? Can't a straight guy let his gay friend know that he has it going on?"
"Shut up, Nick. Really!"
The hint of mischievous in his eyes told me he wasn't
done yet. "See that's your problem. You need to learn how to
take compliments better. What if Pat walked up to you and
told you that he loved your eyes because they betray the
fragility of your soul and the purity of your heart? You
would probably tell him to shut up."
"Well I guess we'll never know."
"We'll see about that."
"What?"
With a devilish grin, he said, "Let's just say I've been working on the `Manual to Seduce Patrick Hughes' and by Thanksgiving you may be sucking on."
"Don't say it!"
"I was going to say sucking on those sexy lips of his, but I see your mind is already in the gutter. Why are gay guys such pervs?" He laughed at himself, probably because he's the biggest pervert I know.
I just smiled at him and changed the subject. Making sure to look over his shoulder every few minutes to see what John was doing to my man. I could feel that things were going to change between us. It was time to make a move.
Thanks for the commentary. Next, the seduction begins. Feel free to send comments to lustyville@yahoo.com