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 Eleven
I chucked on a fresh t-shirt, found my car keys, and stuffed my wallet into my pocket. Without a word we got into my car and started driving. I didn't really have a destination in mind, so I surprised the both of us when I hit the highway toward home. But actually, it didn't seem such a bad idea. Trey had said to his mother he'd head up there in the morning, and since we both had hockey practice tomorrow afternoon, I could drive the both of us back. Besides, I could grab more of my hockey gear. "I hope you have a house key this time."
Trey was quick to get the plan. "Uh-huh. After the last time, I taped one under the ledge of my window."
A moment passed and then with a convulsing stomach (damn nerves!), I said, "Um, so... did you, uh, want to tell me something?"
In my peripheral vision I saw Trey look at me, but I kept my eyes on the road. I could have glanced up at him, but in all honesty, I was just too nervous. Already my palms sweated and I subtly wiped each on my jeans.
"Actually, it's more than one thing, Shane. But, I'd, ahh--" He scratched the back of his head like it would give him his next words. "Can you come--I mean, would you feel alright if we did this in my room?" Quickly he added, "It just feels so impersonal in the car, and I want your full attention."
In his room? Freaking eh, just the thought alone excited me. I gave him a weak smile. "Okay. But there's no more putting it off." For both of our sakes. Surely he was as anxious as I was, and who wanted this to continue? Each passing minute just got more and more awkward. At one point I was so aware of our breathing, I couldn't do it normally again until I switched on the radio. Oh thank God for classic rock.
Finally we arrived at his house, and we got inside without a problem. Although it was past midnight, a light was on in the large kitchen-dining area.
"Hello Ma?" Trey called softly into the room. A chair scraped over the wooden floorboards in the adjacent room, and out came a tall, thin woman with the same dark eyes and thick lashes as Trey. It was strange to me how they pulled them off each so differently. No matter what look Trey gave, his always looked beautiful. On his mom, though, they looked heavy, tired and cold.
"Why didn't you call to say you were coming around?" she asked, giving me an annoyed glance. "At least you could have told me you'd be bringing someone over!"
"Sorry, Ma. It was late. I didn't want to disturb you all. Shane was ah--nice enough, to give me a lift. So tomorrow we can go visit Aunt--"
She interrupted. "I had to pick Patricia up and bring her here this evening. The neighbors called, and said either we did, or the police would. I've put her in the guest room. She's sleeping at the moment."
I watched as Trey's posture curved and he kept his eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry, Ma. Is there something I can do?"
She looked at me. "Just keep quiet. I want her sleeping as long as possible. I'm not ready to deal with her yet." For a brief moment she shut her eyes. "Oh, and if you have any alcohol hidden in that room of yours, get rid of it. She'll be scouring the house trying to find some, no bets about that. Just drain or drink it, I don't care. So long as she won't get to any." With that she looked over us once more and left.
Trey remained still a few seconds, and then twisted abruptly. In a gruff voice he told me to follow him.
"I'm sorry about my ma," he said, still not daring to look at me. Was he afraid I was judging him--his mom? "She's just a bit stressed at the moment."
I wasn't quite sure what to say. I'd felt awkward standing next to them while they discussed personal family stuff. But I also didn't want Trey feeling embarrassed by it.
"Maybe in the morning we can cheer her up with pancakes?" I said--a flippant feel good comment. Only a moment after the words came out, I froze on the stairs, as did Trey. Had I just suggested I'd be staying over? How presumptuous, and had I really expected that? Surely not, my house was five minutes away. Of course, I'd be going back there. "I mean," I said, knowing I should just shut up. But I couldn't stop myself. You're making this worse! "On my way to pick you up tomorrow."
Trey quickly smothered a grin, briskly tugging me up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. He turned on the light, and I looked around. I'd been curious (ever since he'd mentioned talking here) about what his room would be like. In my mind, I'd pictured it similar to the dorms. But it was so much nicer. King bed--hmmhmm, it was not the first thing I noticed--that would have been the huge black and white rug stretched out at the end of said bed. It was, from what I could tell, a print of a tree with raccoons or squirrels on it. In combination with the wood, dark eggplant walls and black and white prints, it sort of looked like something out of a catalogue.
Trey pulled off his shoes and left them sprawled on the rug. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and pick them up. Yeah, actually, I'd been doing that lately. If I saw something obviously out of place in our room, I'd move it. Trey didn't seem to have noticed. It was like he was happy to hunt for things every day.
"You wanna sit down, man?"
"Sure. Nice room, by the way. I can actually see the floor." Trey snorted as I slipped off my flip flops (placing them by the closed door). I searched the room for seating. His desk and swing chair, by the side of his bed looked like the best choice. I moved over and sat down. Trey sat on the bed opposite me, and because it was lower than the chair, our eyes were level.
He rubbed his thighs, and at the risk of looking like a copy cat, I did the same--my hands were just so clammy! He laid his big, brown eyes on me, and my stomach flipped.
"Ahh, I wish I did have some alcohol stashed away," he said quietly, and with a strained laugh. "It might loosen me up." He swallowed and grabbed a pillow from his bed (yes, this bed was covered with them too).
Jumping to his feet, he raced to the door. For a second I thought he was going to bolt, but he stopped. With the flick of his finger, he switched off the light, plunging the room in darkness. "Um, I know this is weird, but it's just so much easier to talk this way."
The curtains were opened, so soon my eyes adjusted. It wasn't too dark; I could still make out Trey's large figure moving toward me. "If you don't want to see me," I didn't like the thought at all, "I can just do this." I spun on the chair and stared at the desk.
Trey grabbed the back and twisted me to him. He'd even pulled it forward a bit, so when he sat on his bed our legs almost, but not quite, touched. "It's not that I don't want to see you, Shane, I'm just," his voice lowered to a whisper, "embarrassed about you seeing me. But maybe... you'd prefer it if I had the light on, so..." He made to get up, but I stopped him, placing a hand just above his knee. His eyes met mine and an electric static flowed between us.
"I can see you well enough," I said, breaking the contact, "and this darker lighting makes me feel more comfortable too."
He fiddled with the corner of his pillow, and then chucked it away. "Fuck. I don't know where to start." He shook his head, and I heard him breathe deeply. Should I encourage him somehow? Say it's all right? "Okay, here goes. This will probably come out all muddled, bear with me. And don't interrupt. Just don't say anything. Ahh, until I'm through.
"The thing is--fuck!" He wiped his hands again. His next words came out soft and sincere, albeit with an edge of confusion. "Yeah, I like you, Shane. That way."
Relief hit me in such strong waves, I thought I'd sob. "So, you're gay?"
He kept his gaze on his jeans. "June's told you that already. And I said no interruptions."
"Okay, no more, but I want to hear you say it. Are you?"
"Yes." He breathed out, lifting his legs to the bed and hugging his knees. "I'm gay. But it's weird, and I feel guilty about it. Not the gay bit. The other bit. That by liking you, I'm hurting June and you too because of how close you are. I really didn't want to get in the way. But at the same time I really, really did. Why else do you think I've tried so hard to avoid you these past couple of weeks? And then tonight,"--his eyes closed briefly as he swallowed--"you were there for me when I felt so vulnerable. And you--cared."
I inched the chair forward so I sat directly before him. He reached for my hand and squeezed it. Tight. Really tight. "I'm going to be honest with you," he continued, "but I'm really ashamed by this next bit..." He loosened his grip. "See, I've thought about you before. Do you remember the hockey final in Sophomore year?"
I frowned, and let go of his hand. How could I have forgotten?
"Shit man, you were amazing. The way you scored. Your speed, your drive. Fuck. I was turned on in that game. It was the first real time getting that hard by a guy. And I--I was excited, but mostly frightened. I thought--I don't know what I thought. But my idea was if I hurt or embarrassed you in some way, those feelings would go away with it. I was a complete fucker. But I'd started dating June, and I couldn't let that happen again. It worked too, because you avoided me whenever I came around after that."
I was speechless. Hurt at what he'd done, but maybe...thankful he'd apologized? It was a weird mix of feelings really--a heap of ingredients to a recipe I didn't know: a sprinkle of anger, a large dose of embarrassment, and a bigger dollop of relief. Was it the making of closure? Or was it that understanding his reasons was a beginning to get rid of that little block of fear I'd had of him? "I--I--"
He shifted his legs either side of my chair and pinched my lips shut. "You have every right to yell, shout and curse me for that, but please, let me finish first."
His gaze remained on mine and I shook my head. He dropped his fingers. "Go on then."
"You can't expect me not to say something now. What you did to me...that was--well, fuck, I've been angry at that a long time. For years I used to pray my sister would drop you. You frightened me for so long thanks to what you did--I saw you as a big bully. The reason I avoided you was because I didn't want anything like that to happen again." I hit my palms against the arms of the chair, trying to hold back tears.
Trey breathed out slowly. "I don't know how it is you even like me. It was a--I'm so ashamed of what I did. I wish I could take it back. But all I can do is tell you I'm sorry. I know you haven't heard it, but I've been saying that to you for years. Whenever I saw you I remembered, and was--am sorry."
Hearing his words, the earnestness in them, I softened. "At first I wondered the same thing," I said, quietly. "I couldn't understand how I could find you attractive considering what you'd done. Considering I was partly afraid of you. But--there were things you did that contradicted my impressions. Since we've been rooming, I've seen another side of you altogether. And after a while, I--I just couldn't believe that you'd hurt me anymore. I guess, even before this apology, I'd begun to forgive you for it. The fact you've just apologized right now is, uh--well, I guess it's another thing to contradict those first impressions."
I saw his relief, in the way his shoulders relaxed. "Now, continue with what you wanted to tell me," I gripped the chair, and flashed him a small smile, "I won't interrupt again. Promise."
He took a moment to collect his thoughts, or to get comfortable, but he sounded every bit as nervous as I felt when he spoke. "Well...ah--about my being gay... I've suppressed my thoughts--my--ah--feelings about guys for ages. And I loved June, so it wasn't too hard to do, but then" he glanced toward his window, "then that day in the pool. When you stood up to Ryan, proudly accepting--actually yelling--that you were gay... something just clicked in me. Like a huge rush of feelings hitting all at once. And suddenly all those things I'd been holding back were shoved to the surface. It confused me, Shane."
Tentatively, I laid a hand on his mid thigh and sort of patted him--I still had the urge to communicate. By touching him, I wanted to say I understood the confusion--that it was okay.
"Remember that day we found out we'd be rooming together? And you came over? I knew you were there the entire time. I'd seen your car pull up. I took my shirt off just because I knew you were there watching. Fuck--even then I hardly knew you, and I couldn't help but want to be nearer. Those library books weren't due back. I'd only read half of them. I just--had to come up with an excuse..." He flickered his gaze over me. I wasn't sure because of the dark, but I thought he was blushing. "Ahh, I sort of, may have, um--touched you in the parking lot. I didn't think about it really, it was like my hand had a mind of its own."
So the bird landing on my sweet tushie was Trey. I was semi-hard already just being so close to him, but that little truth turned me to rock. His openness, the fact he liked me--hurry up and finish so I can say--scrap that do something! But at the same time keep going. What else has been going through your mind?
"But I have to apologize to you again, man. I--I've been flirting with you in any which way I could for weeks, both wanting and absolutely not wanting something to happen. And I've known you were--um--at least interested in me for a while. I was so cruel to you. I teased you. I got thrills from the fact I could get you worked up." He shut his eyes, almost as if he were cringing. "Like with the chips. Fuck, it was all planned! I purposely dropped one in your lap. I knew before you'd jizzed in your pants. And I loved that." After a quick intake of air, he continued, his eyes still shut, "You have no idea just how turned on I am by you."
Listening to him tell me all this had an enormous physical effect on me--and not just down there!--It was as if all my blood had been carbonated; the fizz rushing through my body. I was hyper-sensitive; the hairs on my arms static, and I was sure goosebumps trailed every inch of me.
I lifted Trey's chin, my fingers on him startling his eyes open. He reached his hand to my face and swept my hair to the side. I shivered under his touch and moved forward on the chair.
"I don't want to deny it, or yo-yo as I have with you anymore," he whispered, leaning closer. "Ever since I saw you with those kids--Paul especially, I--I knew I didn't just find you hot." I felt his breath tickle my cheek. "I was--am attracted to you."
I thought we'd kiss. I wanted us to, but Trey snapped back. "So, I'm sorry, man."
"Am I allowed to say something now?" I asked, and yeah, I was somewhat frustrated he'd moved away so quickly--rrrrrrr.
"Of course." He looked nervously at me, like he was preparing for me to be mad at him. But I wasn't. In fact, in the last twenty minutes, my feelings for him had only sky-rocketed. Everything, from his honesty to the fact he still cared for June, made me like him more.
I tossed up what I should say--how I should respond to everything he'd said, but really, what were words when--
Awkwardly, I placed a hand on Trey's t-shirt, pulling him closer again. My heart thumped so hard against my rib cage, I was sure he could hear it. He swallowed and I was suddenly so shy; I couldn't hold his gaze, and concentrated on his dark lips instead. My mouth felt dry and stale, and my other arm shook as I reached it behind the back of his head to draw him to me. Butterfly wings scraped my insides, painful but more-ish--good.
My nose bumped into his. How did I manage that? I was moving so slow. His lips are right there, kiss him!
Gently and somewhat unsure, my lips brushed his. They were much softer than I'd expected, and warm. Parting his mouth ever so slightly, Trey welcomed me. I encased his bottom lip between both of mine. He tasted sweet like plum juice. I inhaled his scent, his aftershave and behind it, him. It still reminded me of roasted chestnut. So delicious.
I licked his bottom lip, eliciting a groan from Trey that dissolved my shyness. I looked into his eyes. "Show me how much you like me. Kiss me back, Trey."
With a firm arm around my waist, he yanked me off the chair onto him--perhaps a bit too hard, but I didn't care. His kiss came strong and I could feel the myriad of emotions we shared. Surprise and fear at what we were doing, mixed with vulnerability and--best of all--happiness. Our tongues slipped between each other's lips, twisted, and fought together. This felt so right--so fucking amazing! He pushed me harder against him. He had to feel how hard I was for him, and--more butterflies, both wicked and lovely--I could feel him too.
He leaned back on the bed, taking me with him as we continued to kiss. I rubbed my cheek over his ever-so-slight stubble and sent open mouth kisses down his neck. I became bolder, nipping at his ear, licking it and sucking on his soft skin. "Oh, that's good," Trey said, fishing under my t-shirt and exploring the contours of my stomach with his fingertips.
"MmmmMmm." Was the only way I could respond at the tingle flowing through me from his touch.
He began pull at my t-shirt to get it off, and I really wanted him to, but--"Trey. Let's not, yeah?"
His hand stopped moving, and he kissed my cheek. No questions, no hassles, just--"Okay, babe. We'll do this at your pace." Respect.
I melted into his arms, resting on his hard chest. His use of the word `babe' was like, like, I don't know, like I'd been given a shot of pure joy. I almost wanted to forget my reasons for not wanting to take this any further. Almost, but not quite. See, while this was without a doubt the best kiss I'd ever had, and the, well maybe just the happiest I've ever been, guilt lingered around me. Before this could go anywhere else, I had to talk to June, like Mom had suggested.
A piercing scream ripped through the house, and both Trey and I jumped up. I looked at him in fright and confusion to see him hang his head and sigh. He moved to the door, and glanced at me. "Promise you'll stay? I'm gonna help Ma with Aunt Patricia."
I heard cursing, screaming and heavy steps down the hall as Trey left. For almost a half hour, Patricia yelled and I heard things smashing. Soon Trey's voice rose. Loud and firm he told his Aunt to stop what she was doing, to talk to instead.
I felt bad and weird about being here while this was going on, but at the same time I was curious--and worried. Was this Trey's home life? Was it always so hard and stressed? The thought made me want to hold and comfort him.
Standing right next to his open door, I listened as Patricia shouted again. "...your fault...no good piece of shite, boy. You come in here to hurt me more, have you?"
It quietened. What the hell? What was going on--what had happened? There was no way I believed Trey had hurt his Aunt. She was probably delusional from all the alcohol.
After that I didn't hear anything more. I curled up on my side on Trey's bed and waited for him. It took another twenty or so minutes before he lumbered back in.
"I'm sorry about that," he said once he'd sat on the bed.
I moved over to him and held him from behind. "Are you all okay?"
"It's fine now."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Trey shook his head. "Nah. I'm too tired. I just want to sleep."
"Okay," I said, and slipped off the bed. "What time would you like me to get you tomorrow?"
Trey's brows furrowed together, and he grabbed my wrist. "Where do you think you're going?" He stood up, stepping into me, and kissed me softly. "Stay."
"Okay," I croaked--I really wasn't that hard to convince. I hadn't wanted to go anyway, had just thought perhaps he needed some space.
Trey began stripping down to his boxers and I turned around to do the same. "What side of the bed should I...?"
"The middle," he answered with a ring of nervousness, "with me, babe. I want you to hold me, yeah?"
I yawned--I couldn't help it, it was so late. "Sure thing." I smiled as I nestled under the blankets next to him. I really could get used to him calling me babe.
"What's with all the pillows?" I asked, rearranging the two under my head and watching as this time Trey yawned.
He stretched his arms over his head, and giggled--yeah, giggled. "I like cuddling into things when I sleep."
"Oh you do, do you?" I grinned, and wondered if he could see it. Well, if not, he certainly read my mind. He linked his arms around my waist and crushed me against him.
I sighed onto his warm chest, and listened to his breathing until he'd fallen asleep, and my lids were drooping too. It felt so right and comfortable here, but that didn't stop the worry lacing these good feelings.
I jammed my eyes shut and breathed in Trey's scent. Please, please, please just let this work out.
Let her understand.