Disclaimer: Story characters belong to the author, any resemblances to real people are entirely coincidental.
Content Advisory: Adult situations, language, sexual references
Copyright, 2010, Anyta Sunday
I hope you enjoy it. Please comment to: anytasunday@gmail.com
This story will continue to be posted on Nifty. It is COMPLETED, however, and can be found also at http://www.gayauthors.org/story/anytasunday/shaneandtrey
Also, St-st-stuffed (following Karl and Paul from this story is just completed and can be found at http://www.gayauthors.org/story/anytasunday/st-st-stuffed )
Chapter Ten
It was just past ten by the time I arrived back to my dorm room. It'd ended up being a much shorter evening out than I'd anticipated, but after what happened with Syd, it felt right to go home. And I could tell Lucas was itching to get him back to his place, worried for his darlin'.
Trey wasn't in, and I felt the urge to go for a run. I chucked on some gear, and jogged through the campus, avoiding the drunken crowds. I still couldn't shake how bad I felt about Syd. It disgusted me hearing what had happened to him. I certainly hoped Lucas was doing all he could to make him better. But of course he would be. I'd seen the love in his gaze, heard it in his voice.
I passed the cafeteria and rounded the humanities building. My thoughts swirled and collided with each other, and they were annoying as hell--like a sort of, um, itch I could reach. I mean, how was it so obvious I'd fallen for Trey? And if Syd noticed, who else had?
Following the stream winding through the college, I soon ended up at the road leading to the dorms. I wasn't ready to go back though, so I turned around. Still my thoughts tagged along. What was up with Trey and I really? June had told me he'd come out as gay, and while he had yet to say anything about it himself, I wasn't stupid enough to think there wasn't something going on. If not, there wouldn't be any reason to ignore me. Not to mention what had happened with Mom. Fuck, I wanted to know what was in his head. I increased my pace, as if the frustration would sweat out. If only.
My foot caught on something and I crashed hard to the ground, knocking my face. "Fucking, eh!" I pushed myself up, tasting blood. Great. Split lip. I checked around, scanning for witnesses to my embarrassment. Thank God most people out were too drunk to notice. I kicked at the loose brick, jutting out further than the rest. I couldn't explain it, but the whole evening, in combination with my general bothered-ness, had my eyes prickling with tears. And right now, I didn't care to hide them.
I continued running, but had to stop after a few minutes. Something dribbled in my eye making it blurry, and it wasn't sweat or tears. Or it wasn't just that. As I wiped the blood off with the back of my hand, I heard a familiar and very sweet voice calling my name. I twisted to see my sister with a fat bag hanging from her shoulder, and a carton holding two coffees. Wasn't it a bit late for caffeine? And where did she get it?
With hardly a glance at me, she gasped. "Shoot, Shane, what's happened?"
Oh fantastic, it was that bad? "Hey June." My voice sounded funny, because my nose was blocked from crying.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just fell over."
Of course she noted more in my tone than I'd intended to give away; she stepped closer, studying my face like she did all the years at home. With a concerned frown, she touched my arm, and I had to steady her coffees before they tipped over me. "You can tell me the truth you know."
Dammit, why did I have to cry? Stupid blotchy eyes. "No. I was just beat up by a path," I said, pointing behind me. "I was...ah--tired and not properly paying attention."
"You seem to be `tired and not paying attention' a lot lately. Is there something else on your mind? Are you anxious about, you know?"
You know, what?
"Because if it's making you like this," she said, slowly, watching me, "you don't have to visit Dad. I could make up an excuse for you."
"Oh, Dad," I said out loud like a dummy. Why couldn't I just pretend that'd been what this was? It would save any inquisition. "Nah, I'll be fine."
Biting her lip, she looked away from me, and in a light voice said, "Um, do you need me right now? We could get you patched up and go someplace to chat?"
I pointed to the coffees. "Looks like you are on the way to meet someone."
"But you need me more, and I--"
"June, sweets, I'll be fine. I'm going to head back and clean this up, okay? You go meet your--"
Before I could raise a brow, she answered. "Ah, study date."
"So late?"
"Ahh, well he's my lab partner, and he's going away for the weekend. Our hypotheses and plan outlines have to be in by Monday." She squeaked a little, trying to laugh, but it sounded fake. "Um...so if you are sure you don't need me right now, will you promise to meet me tomorrow? There's something I need to talk to you about."
I nodded. "Sure. I've got hockey practice in the afternoon, so how about we meet for dinner?"
"Okay," June said over her shoulder as she walked away. "Come to my room at seven."
My head felt a little light, so I walked to the dorms, cutting through the car park. Music leaked through the dorm walls. Oh for Friday night dorm fun. Scanning the side of the building, I slowed. Thanks to our room facing the parking lot, from where I stood I could see right into it. Contrasting to the darkness outside, the warm light glowed, as did Trey, pacing the length of the room, holding a cell to his ear.
Drawn to the room like a--yeah, a moth to a flame, I noticed the windows were tilted open. If I just got a little closer... My shoes crunched over the gravel lining the building. I froze as if I'd been caught doing something wrong. Well, what I was doing wasn't exactly right, either, but Trey had listened to my phone calls, so--well, this was payback.
"I'll do whatever I can..." He ran a hand through his dark hair. What would it feel like if it were mine doing that?
"Of course I understand the severity...Yup." A frown dominated his face, and I wished I could erase it. Then he glanced in my direction, and I ducked. I'd been close to the window, but not enough for him to be able to see me easily. At least I hoped.
"I'll be up again as soon as I can to see you. I'll catch a bus up, tomorrow morning, okay? I'll help. You know I'm always here if you need me. I love you--Ma? Ma?" He looked at his cell like there must have been a technical difficulty. But his face screwed up and he threw it on my bed. "And how are you, Trey?... I'm feeling fucking awful, but thanks for asking."
I heard him half sob-half grunt, before he collapsed onto my bed. A mixture of emotions ran through me parallel. Like feeling sad, and worried, and--um, was it bad that I was sort of excited he was on my bed? Fuck watching this! I was going in there to comfort him. I had promised to keep an eye on him, to look out for him. That's what I'd be doing.
As I strode down our hall, a guy I recognized, but couldn't place a name to, jumped out in front of me.
"Hey, Shane."
"Ah, hey." How did he know my name?
"You and Trey joining in on this floor party?" Probably not. I shrugged, and shuffled to pass him. "Leave your door open if you want to supply a room, or you can just take part." I nodded, waving a hand to say, got it, now gotta go. "Start by going to the room with a big `one' on it," he called after me as I charged the rest of the way to my room.
I quickly covered my cut head with my hair, and inserted the key into the lock. Frigging, eh, why'd it have to make so much noise? Maybe I was lucky and he wouldn't hear it over the music pumping through the halls. I opened the door, and--damn, Trey'd already moved from my bed. He stood with his back turned to me, but reflected in the window I could see him wiping tears from his face.
At that moment he looked up, staring at my reflection. The way our eyes connected, made my heart pound so hard I could hear it in my ears. Although we weren't looking directly at each other, it was the most vulnerable, open look we'd shared. Barriers crashed down between us, and I was very aware as I stepped forward he was letting me closer. To the real him.
Not taking my gaze off his, I came up behind him, slipped my arms around his waist and hugged him. Our eye-contact broke, as I rested my good cheek in the middle of his shoulder blades (I was trying to avoid splotching him with blood). Feeling the way he shook under me, I held him tighter. Though it seemed that made it harder for him to get his breathing under control.
Wanting to say something, but having no idea what, I breathed heavily into his t-shirt and watched as goosebumps formed on his neck. Gods his body felt fine, hard and warm--so, so comfortable. Trey sniffed, and then turned around, quickly nudging my arms to his neck as he wrapped his around my middle and we continued to hold each other. I forced myself not to give in to the urge to link my legs around him, and kept the tips of my shoes the floor.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I said, and felt him shiver, but I wasn't sure if it was at my suggestion, or at the way the words came out so close to his ear.
All too abruptly, he stepped away from me, and I saw properly his puffy red eyes. It made me want to grab him again and not let go, but--
"Shit man, you look awful." Almost as soon as he'd said it, he'd grabbed a towel from his drawers and wet it with his water bottle.
"I'm fine, it's just a scratch. And you're not looking so great yourself."
"What?" he said in mock offense. "Me, not look good? Liar. Now, sit down and tilt your head."
When I didn't move right away, he grabbed my hand and led me to his bed. Firmly, but without hurting, he lifted my chin and dabbed the towel across my cut lip and forehead. I tried to grab it off him to do it myself, but he jerked his hand out of reach, and gave me a look that said don't even think of trying that again. "Seriously, it's just a scratch. I can clean it up myself."
"It's a bit more than a scratch; I can see that for myself. This is more an incision, a cut, a slash even." He wiped more blood off my face, the hardness in his face had gone, replaced by--I gulped--could it be care? Worry? "Now, how the hell did you do this? I certainly hope, Uhhlirich didn't allow this to happen."
What was he on abou--oh. "Um... yeah, about that."
I could have sworn Trey's lips quivered on the verge of a grin, but he schooled his expression.
Du bist ein furchtbarer Lügner. "Okay, you know I lied. I was with Syd. Whatever, move on."
A smile arched across his face, but soon dropped. He pressed the towel to my lip once more, although I was sure the blood had all been wiped off. "So how did this happen?"
"It's no big deal. I just fell over a stupid brick."
I expected him to laugh at me for that, or at least supply a small smile. It was stupid after all. Instead, his jaw hardened and I was pretty sure he shuddered. He chucked the towel to the floor. "You should be more careful!"
He lifted me from the bed and, with a quick thrust of one hand, turned me round. Huh?--what was this? Within the space of a few seconds I was back to facing him. "Other than your head," he said, "you're not hurt."
"I could have told you that."
He reddened, like the thought to ask me hadn't crossed his mind. "Now, do you need a plaster on that?" He brushed the pad of his thumb under the cut on my forehead.
Before I could decline, Trey's cell rang.
"Hello?...Oh, hey... yeah, sure, of course I will--am actually...Maybe see you next week?...I'd like that too. Ciao."
He placed the phone on his side table and looked my injuries over once more. "That was June, calling to make sure I take care of you."
"Didn't know you two were talking again." Why hadn't she mentioned that?
"We have been. For the last week or so."
Right. Trey sunk into the pillows next to me on his bed. "Actually, she asked me to do the same with you."
He smiled, sweet and somewhat sad. "Oh, she did, did she?"
"Yeah."
"Is that why you held me just before?"
Partly. "What was wrong, Trey?"
He flicked at a corner of a pillow, putting more and more energy behind it. "My aunt is depressed. She's been in a wheelchair for years, but hates her life. And it's just getting worse. Ma--it's her sister--does a lot for her, but the constant work and stress is wearing her down." He pummeled his fist into the bed. "I just feel useless, and responsible. I'll have to see a way of helping out more."
His use of the word `responsible' in that sentence jarred me. I looked at him, at the hurt present in the planes of his face. "I'm very sorry for you and your family."
"Thanks, man," he said, jumping up from his bed. "Just gonna nip to the bathroom."
What the...? The sudden end to the--what was it, opening up?--confused me. But then, maybe it was too hard to talk about? And, although what he'd mentioned was a big part in what was troubling him, I knew there was more to it. I'd heard that through the window. I'm feeling fucking awful, but thanks for asking. Yup, there were more issues than just his aunt. His mother and her reaction being one--what was that on about? Did everyone have family issues? And, let's hazard a guess, two--his breakup with June and other...um, feelings around that.
Before I was aware of it, I'd taken off my shoes and grabbed my `blue baby', feeling a new tune coming on. Words jumped at me and I dove for a pen and paper to write them down, stuffing them into my beside table drawer before Trey got back.
When he did, I was oh-so-innocently twiddling my thumbs and staring at the ceiling from my bed. Those pieces of lyrics just might have been R-rated. (Okay they definitely were).
"Were you playing?" he asked, and picked up the guitar I'd nestled between my legs. Then he handed it to me. "Play something to cheer me up?" His brow lifted slightly and with it a thrill zapped me all the way to my dick.
I sat up and took the guitar. The last song I'd played tonight only served to bum out big time. I didn't feel like trying again. "What else would cheer you up?" Usually when I was down, I liked to curl up in bed and read, or put on a CD and turn it up loud and let the music feel for me.
Trey shrugged. "I don't know. I'm jittery. I need to do something just to"--he sighed--"not think about things. Like go out dancing, or, I don't know..."
An idea sparked in my head, half of me liked it because I knew Trey would like it, the other half insisted I not say anything. The first half won. "Well, how about the dorm-party thing? I could go offer our room?"
His face lit up like I'd bought him a puppy for his birthday or something. "Dude, you rock."
I got up and placed the guitar on its stand. Man I hated that `dude'. I wanted the babe back. Where'd it go? Come back for me!
"But," Trey said, coming from right behind me, "let's not offer our room."
"Why n--"
"Because I know how much you'd hate that," he answered, and spun me around to his grinning face. "Instead, we are going to visit all the other rooms. And you are not to leave my side, got it?"
Well, the only reason I was going to any party was to cheer him up, so why would I run off? Okay, unless it was--ahhh--"I got it. I won't come back to the room unless you've Okayed it."
"Great. Now that we have that settled, let's go."
"Hold on a tick, I need to shower first. Give me twenty, yeah?"
Forty minutes later, ah, yeah--the water was just so warm!--Trey led us to the room with a number `one' on it. Seemed he knew exactly how these parties worked. The guy that'd talked to me before waved us over to him in the corner of the very cramped and sweaty room. There must have been close to fifty people, talking or shouting to one another. Trey cuffed my wrist and, as crowds melted to the side to accommodate his size and gorgeousness, pulled me through to the corner with ease. People kept hey man-ing him, and he replied to everyone by name.
"Hey Dave," Trey said. "What's the program?"
"Okay. There are four rooms. Take one or two or however many people you're comfortable with to each room. You have five minutes a room. A bell goes off signaling for the change. We're staggering, which is why it's cramped in here. But the wait's worth it. And at the other end there's a room for dancing. You'll know it by the strobe lighting."
Trey nodded like he knew what the guy was on about. As Trey found out what was going on, a petite girl with fiery red hair and funky glasses came up to me. "Oh, you're a hottie. Would you like to go a round with me?"
A round of what? And, no.
After I managed to show enough lack of interest, she disappeared, and I focused back on Dave. "And if you have any problems. I can take you through the rooms myself and demonstrate, if you'd like?" Dave flashed Trey a warm smile and touched his arm. Hey, wait a--Get your hands off! Like, fuck, why couldn't others be straight when you need them to be? I jerked Trey in my direction as Dave leaned even closer to him. I knew he wasn't mine, and he could flirt with anyone he chose, but--but I'd be damned if anyone else got him!
Trey had a sneaky grin on his face, and pointedly moved in toward Dave and whispered in his ear. The blood drained from my face, and I felt sick. I didn't want to witness this. I pushed my way (awkwardly) through the crowd and out of the room. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm that iron hot prod of jealousy and hurt in my stomach. Yet how could I claim hurt? We didn't have anything together. He'd done nothing wrong. I still wanted to kick something though. I eyed the wall; it looked solid enough not to cause any damage, but then doing that in my flip-flops might hurt.
I started to storm off down the hall, when Trey's voice stopped me. "Where the hell are you going? Get your ass back here."
I flipped him off and continued toward my room. A few steps later, a hand landed heavily on my shoulder. "Stop with this crap." Trey handed me something. "Drink this. I scored it from Dave."
Stupid Dave. I scowled and shook my head.
"Fine, your loss."
I made to leave again, but he tightened his grip. "Don't. Just go one round with me, okay?"
I gave in. For half an hour we sat leaning against the wall, watching as couples and groups moved from room to room when the bell sounded through the hall. Finally, it was our turn. I was glad because an end to this party was in sight. "So what is the deal with each room anyway?" I asked as Trey pushed me toward the first of the rooms which had a huge balloon attached to the door.
"Each room has a rule. You have to obey the rule when you're in there."
Inside, a large placard had been placed on a chair. `The Plank' it'd been titled. I scanned the rule--actually it was more like directions, and shook my head. Trey was laughing.
"Great. You're going to get soaked!" he said.
I perked up at that. Did he think he'd be able to hit me with more water balloons? "What? Hell no." We both turned to the two opened windows (at opposite ends of a large room) with a thick plank of wood extending outside from them. Climbing up at the same time we each (unsteadily) made our way to the other end of plank--although, the thing reminded me more of a gymnasts beam, supported at the other end by the top of a truck. Who'd volunteered for that?
In the middle of each truck roof was a hose and a box of balloons. I grabbed a hose and filled up a balloon. Although Trey had moved slower over the plank, he had the advantage of being able to tie the damn things up. I gave up trying, just kept it pinched shut. I needed to move back into the middle of the plank and ready myself to dodge while keeping my balance and throw.
I eyed up the fifteen foot distance between us. This wouldn't be so eas--Trey's first balloon caught my ear, splashing water all down my side. Shit he had good aim. I tried whirling my balloon at him, praying it twisted enough so the water wouldn't come out before it hit him. Massive failure. So, yeah, within the five minutes we had there, Trey managed to land four balloons (I avoided two--that was something, right?), and I hadn't wet him a drop. All because I couldn't freaking tie them up. Worse than getting half-soaked, though, was Trey's bounding laugh, echoing off all the cars just to mock me more. Arghhhh! Just you wait, Trey Brennan. I'm soooo getting you for this.
The bell sounded, and we made our way to the next room, Trey chuckling at me as I tried to squeeze the water from my t-shirt. I rammed into his side trying to knock him off balance, but he barely budged. It just made him laugh louder again. I pushed my way past him and entered the second room.
Anything commanded in this room, must be acted out.
Trey sat on one of the beds, and I moved to the other so we were practically a room apart. He watched me, shaking his head, and once I'd seated, came over to me. "What's with the distance?"
I shrugged. "No reason."
He crouched to my level (he was in front of me) and cocked his head. "Good. Now take off your shirt."
My mouth dropped open in surprise. "What? And nuh-uh, you have to go first. This whole thing is your idea."
"Actually," he said with a grin so delicious I wanted to lick it off, "it was your idea to come to the party. To cheer me up, remember?"
I was so glad we hadn't turned on the lights in the room, because my face felt pretty hot. "And why my t-shirt?"
"Because," he said, closing the gap between us to an inch, and placing his hands--large, warm ones--onto my sides. "I don't want you to catch a cold." With that he slid his hands to the edge of the t-shirt, and tugged. I lifted my arms for him, sucking in a breath as his knuckles grazed over my skin.
As soon as it was off, he stepped back, breaking the static that at least I had felt in the last few seconds. I shivered. "Well, I don't know how that's going to keep me much warmer."
"So command me to give you mine. That way you'll be snug as a bug."
Snug as a bug? Too cute! "Hmmm, I think not." (Although the idea of him without his shirt was appealing.) "I've still to get you back for drenching me. I'm going to make you do something--uh--belittling. I mean, you really do need to be taken down a notch."
Trey grinned. "Who me? Why? You're just a sore loser, is all."
I narrowed my eyes at him, holding back my urge to cackle--yes cackle--I felt a real evil laugh coming on. I kicked of my flip flops and pointed to my feet. "Kiss my fat toes!" Muahahaha--I could hear it almost as if there were another presence in the room. Because, c'mon, how gross was that! And like--
Trey grabbed my foot and pressed my big toe (they were all fat, but I meant the big fat toe) to his lips. The cackle completely died. I'd never been surrounded by such quiet before. All my thoughts must have stopped or something. I mean it wasn't quiet-quiet, just weird. I could still hear things, just that they seemed magnified ten times--at least. Like Trey's hand skidding over the carpet, or the ticking of my watch, or the clucking of his tongue--
Trey's lips opened and his tongue flicked out against the tip of my toe. I jerked my foot, but he captured it in two hands, holding me more firmly. He grazed his teeth over the skin--oh-my-fucking-goodness that felt amazing. Then pressing tight around the base he circled his tongue and started sucking my toe. Sucking my toe! Like, what the hell? And, don't ever stop!
I bit my lip, and stifled a moan, and that's when Trey looked up at me. His large eyes soft and, and warm. Yeah, really warm.
"Stop." I managed to say, and when he didn't I motioned toward the placard, all the while holding his gaze. He released my toe. "Why'd you do that?" I asked, my voice husky.
He raised himself on his knees, and rested his hands either side of me. "You feel self-conscious of your toes. I don't want you to be."
His mouth glistened where he'd licked his lips and I found myself leaning closer to him, but he turned away suddenly, and got to his feet. "Did the bell just go off?"
I stared at him. This fucking elephant couldn't get much bigger; the room wouldn't be able to fit us soon.
Then the bell actually went off. Trey moved so fast toward the door, I was afraid he'd go through it.
"If you want to call it quits, we can," I said, sure that's what he wanted after that, uh--moment? Although I did not at all. Not after that.
He frowned. "No." Did he sound a little nervous? "Get into the next room."
I pushed my way in. One glance at the placard made me nervous as well.
All questions asked in this room, must be answered truthfully.
Interesting. I peeked at Trey out the corner of my eye. He'd sat himself in the middle of the room, hugging his legs. "Did you know this would be the next room?"
He nodded. "Unlike you, I was listening when Dave told me about them."
Hmmm--"Then you've had plenty of time to think about what you'd like to know." I sat in the middle of the mat in front of him, and more bravely than I felt met his gaze. "So ask me."
His adams apple jutted out as he swallowed. "Why'd you run out back there?"
When I took a sec to gather my thoughts, Trey pointed to the placard with the rule on it. "Um..."
He repositioned himself, so he too sat cross legged. His knees touched mine, and even though two sets of jeans separated us, freaking-eh did the contact send shivers through me.
"Yeah?" He raised a brow, his gaze flickering over my bare chest. Could he see my goosebumps?
"He was flirting with you." I looked around me for some distraction, something I could grab or fiddle with.
"So?"
So I think you're gorgeous and that guy wanted in your fucking pants. Do the math! "I just didn't need to be around for that."
"Jealous some?" Clever boy.
There was a short silence. Why couldn't I just say yes? Stupid nerves. He started to raise his hand toward the placard and I hit it away. "Ha-ha you wish. You into him?"
"Hell no, and you know it."
I was silent a moment. Did that mean, what I thought it meant? Or did I just want it to mean that? Shit, the whole way we acted around each other sort of felt like a dance I didn't know the moves to. Letting out a shuddering breath, I looked at him. "Actually, yes. I was jealous." And because I'd let open that honest door, I might as well step all the way through it. "Because, if you haven't already figured it out yet, I like you." There was a moment of silence, which I broke. "I think we have a connection, true?"
In the time it took before he answered, I felt sick. My stomach flipped something so bad that I quietly burped. What was taking him so long to answer? I was sweating now, could he see that?
He sort of nodded. At least I thought so. Please just say it.
"Shane," he said softly, "can we get out of here? I know this is the truth room, but I don't want to do this in here. I thought I did, thought this room would help me to express myself. But how can I do that in a few minutes? It just feels wrong. I--"
I was already up. "Come on then." I was happy to move the location. But I wasn't going to let this go. "Let's go for a drive, but Trey, you are going to tell me."