**Standard disclaimer applies. This is purely fiction (if based only slightly on actual events). Don't read if you shouldn't because you're under 18 or live in a backwards area. I appreciate any and all feedback, so please email me at jwolf24450@gmail.com. Enjoy the story!
Chapter 22: Mitchell
Specimen's Name: Mitchell
Height: 6'0''
Build: 180 (Muscular)
Occupation: Faculty
Age: 28
Dimensions: 7'' uncut
I woke up the next day feeling groggy. My tongue was incredibly dry and all I wanted to do was drink water. I would have lapped it out of the toilet if I could have.
"He wakes," I heard a female voice say. I looked to the left to see Devon sitting on the chair in my infirmary room. She was dressed in shorts and a tank top and somehow looked better than she did last night when she was all dolled up.
"What..." I coughed. "What the hell happened?"
"You were a mess last night," she replied. "And you got into a fight with a couple of Sigmas. You have a pretty intense shiner on your face."
I sat up, unaware that my robe was completely backless. With my ass hanging out, I dragged my IV to the bathroom and studied my reflection. I had an intense black eye and a welt on the side of my shoulder. Part of my hair was shaved and I had a couple of butterfly bandages just above my ear. The moment I saw myself, everything started to sink in and my head started throbbing.
"How do you feel?" Devon asked as I walked slowly back to my hospital bed.
"As good as I can," I replied. "I'm thirsty as a bitch."
"Some guy is out getting you breakfast and coffee," she responded. "He figured you could use some good non-hospital food this morning."
Some guy? For some reason, my first thought was that Spencer and Kyle had been here with me all night. I shook that thought off. Maybe it was Sebastian, but if it was, Devon would have known his name.
"Who?"
"He said he was your boyfriend. You insisted on me calling him after the fight last night and he stayed here with you all night long. You'll forgive me for going home and changing."
"Did you by chance get this guy's name?"
She shook her head. "But he's a keeper, I swear he's hot. And here I thought I had a shot last night."
I suddenly remembered making out with her and I flushed with embarrassment. If Sebastian hadn't told her I was gay before the set-up, she certainly knew now.
"I'm sorry about that," I said.
"No worries at all," she said. "You're not the first gay guy I've kissed, I assure you that. I used to be somewhat of a Fiji groupie." She smiled at me, referring to the overly ambiguous Phi Gammas, whose house was populated by more wrestlers than was appropriate. The house once had a herpes outbreak that had the entire campus talking about what they really did in their basement.
"Knock, knock," I heard from the door in the corner. I looked up to see Chase standing there, hair combed back and sunglasses on, holding a McDonald's bag and two coffee cops. He took his shades off and flip-flopped into my room.
I knew it was him. I knew it was him that I'd called last night and wanted with me post tragedy. Even if part of me thought maybe it would be Kyle walking through the door, I knew it was Chase and when I smiled at him, I knew it was him.
"Hey sexy," I whispered. He crossed the floor to my bed in one stride and planted a warm kiss on my forehead.
"So, I have no idea what your fast food breakfast of choice is, so I have McDonald's in here. There's also hash browns from Burger King and an egg wrap from Wendy's. And of course, Starbucks."
I smiled at him as he beamed at me cutely. He'd run all over the U collecting whatever he thought I'd want to munch on. I thanked him, dug into the spread and had a great breakfast with Devon and Chase.
At 11, the doctor came by to explain what had happened. He asked Devon to leave, but Chase was allowed to stick around.
"I'm his older brother," he said with a straight face. It wasn't a farfetched assertion. We both had dark hair and blue eyes, solid builds and classically cute faces, if I'm forced to judge myself. We easily could have passed for The Hardy Boys.
The doctor gave him a curt, knowing smile when she pulled out my chart and started going through it.
"Okay, you were brought in last night initially because of the fight. We gave you two butterfly stitches above your ear to close the contusion. Luckily, you weren't concussed. The reason we kept you, Mr. Carpenter, is because your BAC was abnormally high. It was almost a .22 when we first got you here, and the gentleman who dropped you off said you hadn't been drinking for approximately two hours."
The guy who dropped me off? Two hours? Where did I go for two hours between the formal and landing in the hospital? I had a feeling who the guy was, but with no memory of last night to speak of, I couldn't begin to verify it.
"Now, any time we see something like that, we have to take pause. Luckily, you were able to answer some questions, give us your emergency contact, and we didn't have to send you to the county hospital and alert the police."
I cringed at hearing the words county hospital and police. Everyone knew that SMU had a private health center for students, a safe haven where the law couldn't touch you. But the policy was to ship you off to Baylor in Dallas if you were too far gone. At that point, underage drinking laws were put into play, parents were called, and shit really hit the fan.
"As for treatment, we've decided it's best to enroll in an alcohol education program." Her face was stoic. I didn't think it was that serious. I'd had a couple too many drinks last night, gotten in a fight with some Sigmas and ended up at the Health Center. I didn't think it was something an AA program required, but apparently it was.
"So with that, we'll monitor your condition for a little while longer; if everything looks good we'll get you to sign some discharge papers and you'll be on your way. There are two ways this can go, young man. Sometimes I see people who take this as a wakeup call. They realize that alcohol can be social without being dangerous and I never have to see them again. I'm hoping you're one of those guys."
She got me to sign some papers, took out my IV, and said she'd be back in a few hours to get my final blood levels and I could be gone. I asked her if I could change clothes and she said I could.
"I almost forgot." She left the room and returned with a pair of hair trimmers. "I'm sure your brother here can help you even it out."
I looked up at Chase as he took the trimmers. I hated my hair short, and over the last six months, it had grown into a soft frat flip that was fun to run my fingers through. It didn't seem like I had much of a choice; with half my head already shaved down, it would look weird if I didn't go ahead and trim the rest.
Chase, like the gem he was, helped me get into my clothes from last night. When I was dressed, we settled in the bathroom for the hair cutting.
"Alright Delilah, let's get this over with," I sighed, fingering my hair for the last time.
"It'll grow back, Samson, I promise."
The first cut was definitely the deepest. After that, it got easier. I could learn to be cute without my hair. I consoled myself with the fact that my chocolate locks would grow back.
"How much did you have to drink last night?" he asked me, sounding somewhat concerned. I guess they didn't give him the details when he came over as my `brother' last night.
"Three or four free poured cocktails that I can remember. The Redbull was my undoing, I think."
"Devon said you finished one of her drinks," he said sounding even more concerned. "It could have been roofied, maybe?"
I tried to remember, but couldn't. By the time Devon and I were dancing, I was already drunk and crazy. It could have been that, but to be honest with myself, I was out of control regardless. I shrugged it off.
"So... you said some really interesting things last night," Chase said, lightening the mood. It must not have been too damning. He was still here. But still, I wondered what I had yapped about when I was blackout. "You said, for one, that you could see yourself falling in love with me."
Shit, I thought. My face got extremely hot as he spoke, nonchalantly telling me about myself. I hated feeling like I was out of control. I had to be reminded of what I had done, and I didn't like that. Maybe the alcohol class was a good idea.
"And you said that you were still hung up on the other guy. The one from the fight."
"Kyle?" I asked. Chase nodded. "Chase..."
"Hold on. I know that he meant a lot to you, and I'm not trying to replace him. And I'm not trying to rush you. I just want to let you know that I'm here for the ride. And... I could maybe fall in love with you too. Possibly."
"Just possibly?"
"I'll go with probably," he said with a smile and a kiss. "You scared the hell out of me last night, gamin."
"Gamin?"
"Little boy in French," he said with a knowing smile. I loved it when he spoke to me in French.
It was weird that just a few weeks earlier, Chase had been the pushy, cocky, and gorgeous guy I couldn't help but want to bone. Now he was a bona fide boyfriend, and a pretty spectacular one at that.
Ten minutes and a head of hair later, I was ready to go home. I still didn't have the details of last night and I knew where I had to go to get them. I got the doctor's okay to leave and Chase drove me to the freshman quad.
"I'll call you tonight," I said getting out of his car. I felt the urge to say `I love you' but I knew that was a terrible idea. I knew that I could, but I wasn't quite sure that I did.
The plan was to go back to my room, get some rest, hope that my eye healed quickly and get ready for my Thursday classes the next day. Calling Tye and saying I was missing practice that night was also on the to-do list. Finally, I wanted to stop in on Sebastian and apologize for getting overserved the night before.
Instead of going to my room and doing any of those things, however, I crossed the quad to the middle building and rode the elevator straight up to Kyle's bedroom. He opened the door after a minute, and I knew immediately that he was with Spencer. I was relieved it wasn't Rusty, but it was still awkward.
"Hey," he said, his face stoic and icy.
"Can I come in?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders but didn't get out of the way. "You know why I'm here, Kyle."
"If this is about last night, I had nothing to do with that," he retorted more defensively than was necessary. I didn't have a clear cut memory of what had happened, but Devon's description about Sigmas starting a fight left little to the imagination. I wanted the details to fill in the lines.
"But you know what happened?"
"Of course I do, Cooper," he said reluctantly.
"So tell me what happened." He glared at me for a second, assessing just how much I remembered.
"You were pretty gone, weren't you?"
"I was very drunk, yes."
He opened the door wider for me and let me come in. Spencer sat on the bed listening to his iPod—part of me doubted he had any music on. He nodded at me, but made no other sign of acknowledging my presence. Kyle and I sat on Mark's bed.
"Look, I'm sorry about what went down."
"How nice of you."
"Rusty was incredibly drunk," Kyle began. Spencer's face shot up and confirmed my theory that he was listening to us rather than any music. "And I asked him not to start anything. But he saw you and he was still pissed about last time ya'll ran into each other. He told me that he needed to show you that no one says no to the Sigmas."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"They've done worse to people, Coop. And he might have."
"If you didn't stop him?" Kyle's silence made it clear that I was right. "Why are you with him? Why do you want in there so badly?"
"I'm sorry, did I miss a step where you started caring again?"
"Kyle," I said sternly. My head was throbbing, but I ignored it. "The guy attacked me last night. He wouldn't have stopped, you just said so. That kind of guy is dangerous."
"Exactly," he said to me softly. "He's not the kind of guy you just walk away from."
And I suddenly understood. Kyle hadn't chosen to go back to the Sigmas. It wasn't his choice to make. The guys had chosen him a long time ago and he had to give in to that destiny. It was easier to just embrace it and move on than fight it and get hurt. It reminded me of my favorite line from Doubt, which I'd just read for Theater History.
It's just till June.
If Kyle could last until Rusty graduated, he'd slide right into the Sigmas and be able to make of it what he wanted. He just had to last until June.
For a second, I felt extremely sorry for him. The kind of pressure he must have been under was immense. I wanted so badly to be there for him, but I knew I couldn't. I wasn't what he needed.
"Can I talk to you without Spencer here?" I asked quietly.
"You have to forgive him eventually," Kyle said, looking over at my ex-roommate.
"Last I checked today was Wednesday, not eventually," I said tartly.
Kyle sighed. "Spence, can you give us a minute?"
Spencer stood up reluctantly. He looked me square in the eye. "There's a ton of your stuff still in the room," he said quietly. He threw his notebook and iPod down and then left the room.
As soon as the door clicked behind Spencer, I leaned in and planted a passionate kiss on Kyle's lips. My tongue slid through his lips and traveled halfway down his throat. I could tell he was taken aback for a split second, but he recovered quickly. Within a second, his hands were pulling my head closer to his.
The heat was unmistakable. The chemistry between us was undeniable. The kiss reminded me of everything I'd had half a year ago and everything I'd lost since then. It also reminded me of why I'd given it all up. The reasons I broke up with Kyle were still very much reasons and the fact that he didn't push me away and kick me out of his room proved it. He was the guy I'd never get over, but I knew I'd spend my life trying.
"What was that for?" Kyle asked, wiping his mouth.
"I just had to see," I replied. "I told a great guy that I was still hung up on you last night and I had to see why I did that."
"And?"
"And when I told him that I could see myself loving him one day, it was enough for him." I was about to deliver the second reason I'd come up to see Kyle. I'd gotten my information. I knew who had beaten me up and why, and I knew that Kyle would go to his grave making excuses for it. "I miss you a lot Kyle, sometimes too much. But I'm officially getting over you. Right now, I'm washing you out of my hair. If we can be friends after this, I'd like that, but I don't blame you if we can't."
I said the words as if I was reading them from a script. It was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do to date, but also the most honest. I needed to get over Kyle and the way I felt about Chase this morning told me that I could do just that.
I saw Kyle's face register the fact that we probably would never get back together. I saw his eyes show an ounce of vulnerability and for a second I thought I was making a mistake.
But deep down I knew I wasn't. I wanted to be with the guy that picked me up after the fight, not run from it. The guy who brought me breakfast, not the guy who defended his asshole boyfriend. I wanted the guy who let me move at my pace and didn't force me to jump to his. I wanted Chase and I had to let Kyle go for good, no matter how hard it was.
Something magical happened when I hugged Kyle goodbye and walked back to my room. My anger towards him and Spencer completely melted. It was like them sleeping together had no effect on me anymore. The reason it had bothered me before was because I viewed Kyle as mine. And honestly, for a while, I thought he would be again. That was over.
I knew I had to see Spencer at some point and I'd apologize for giving him such a hard time, but I decided to put that off until later. There was a laundry list of things I needed to do before then.
I got home and knocked on Sebastian's door before I even went to my room to change.
"Cooper," he said, looking at my black eye. His face looked pained, like he'd been worried for a long time. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"I'm sorry about what happened last night; I tried to get that stupid Sigma idiot to stop," he said letting me in to the room behind him. His room was cold.
"Thank you," I replied. I sat down on his bed, probably the closest I'd ever get to being inside it.
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Yeah," I responded. "I'm fine. I just wish I knew what had happened."
"What do you remember?"
"Making out with Devon," I said. Sebastian gave me the look of an embarrassed older brother. "And you pulling me aside about it. After that, it goes black."
"After the band stopped and the bar closed, we were leaving the house and three guys called after you. You knew them, so I wasn't worried when you stumbled over. The next thing I know, there's a hit and you go flying. It was the scariest thing I've ever seen."
"The three guys," I said. "One was a big brawny white guy?"
"Yeah."
"And the other was Kyle," he said before I had a chance to describe him. "You kept calling him a mother fucker while I was hauling you away."
"What did I say about him?"
"In the cab you said you couldn't understand why you still loved him. You kept saying `I don't know why I still love that mother fucker.'"
I glared at Sebastian wishing that I could remember just what had gone down last night. From the sound of it, Rusty drew first blood, Sebastian pulled me away and Kyle stood there like the puppet he was. Still, there was another side to the story and Kyle had hinted at it. I'd pause before I judged him anymore.
I thanked Sebastian for filling me in. I assured him that I was fine and that I would take it easy for the next few days. Instead of going home and resting, however, I trekked across campus to the gymnasium.
I navigated the labyrinth that was the assistant coach's room until I found Tye's cubicle.
"Hey Carpent- whoa... what happened to you, buddy?" he asked. I took a seat and explained what had happened at the Kappa formal.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm going to be just fine."
"That's all that's important," he responded. "Take tonight's practice off and I'll see you in class tomorrow?"
"If you don't mind a black eye on your setter."
"It'll be fine," he said. He explained that he was going to be dividing teams tomorrow. It was really neat; he showed me who would be on my tournament team. Avery was the defensive specialist on my team.
"Coop, do you mind if I ask something," Tye said after our chat. I was standing to leave, but I sat back down. I nodded and he continued. "This fight... it wasn't a gay thing, was it?"
The question took me aback. Not only was I unaware that he knew I was into guys, but I didn't know he cared that much. Was he this into the know with his other players?
"It wasn't a gay thing," I said quietly.
"I'm glad," he said, relaxing and sitting back. "If you ever need to talk about anything, I'm here alright, buddy?"
It felt good to know.
My last stop, naturally, was at Backstroke. When I got there, everyone except the roommate who had been kicked off the team were at their evening practice. They were nearing the grind of the season and so practices were longer and more intense. I thought about leaving and catching a cab back home, but Andy assured me Chase and the others would be back soon. He said I could wait around until they did.
"So you and Chase, huh?" he asked when I took him up on his offer. I had planned to wait it out in Chase's room, but Andy insisted I hung around and had a beer with him. At first I agreed until I realized I was A. on medication and B. in recovery. I opted for chocolate milk instead.
"Yeah," I said with a smile I couldn't help.
"Is that getting pretty serious?"
"What makes you ask that?" I asked somewhat defensively.
"It's just. Okay, this is going to sound kind of weird. You're the first person that I've ever seen Chase get serious about," he said. He sounded unsure of whether he was allowed to tell me such an intimate detail. No wonder Chase said he wasn't sure he'd make a good boyfriend.
"Cool," I responded. "I'm not going to hurt him if that's what you're afraid of."
He gave me a sideways head tilt and a shrug as if to say he believed me for now. I wasn't going to hurt Chase. I was a different kind of boyfriend than I was half a year ago. Chase was the real deal and this past weekend had shown me that.
Twenty minutes of tentative conversation later, Chase and everyone else came home.
"Look who it is," Chase said, hugging me and filling my lungs with a whiff of chlorine.
"It's Rocky!" Mike, the guy who'd let me borrow a Speedo, responded.
Before we had a chance to get teased further, we escaped upstairs. Chase needed to shower the pool off of his body.
"Want to join me?" he asked seductively peeling off his lycra uniform. I stood with a smile of my own.
"I was hoping you'd ask."
We made out as we undressed slowly. Chase only had one body towel in his room, so we both wrapped up in it, him in front and me behind. He opened the door, checked the hallway and waddled to the bathroom down the hall.
"If you're determined to fuck in the shower, you know I have a private one," I whispered while we waited for the water to temper.
"This is way more fun," he said. He planted a wet kiss on my lips. We slid into the shower when the steam started rising, but truth be told, both Chase and I were already hot.
We made out passionately, pulling each other's faces close, taking turns under the stream of water. The first time the water hit my eye, I cringed. I was careful to keep it from grazing my head and compromising my mini-stitches. In a less than subtle maneuver, Chase turned his back to me, craning his neck backwards so that we didn't have to cut off our kiss.
I moaned deeply into his mouth and ground my cock into the crack of his ass. He slithered backwards into me, directing me right into his sweet spot. The feeling of entering him raw, our muscles relaxed from the heat, was amazing. It was like we were communicating perfectly with our bodies.
Having been lectured by Kyle before and committed to taking safe sex seriously since then, I did take a second's pause before pushing deep into Chase's ass. My hesitation was melted by my desire to connect with him. For a second, I considered that Chase could be the last guy I would ever fuck.
Chase ground backwards into me, enveloping my cock with his tight ass. He leaned against the back wall of the shower so that he could dig backwards into me harder and harder. Before I knew what was happening, I was fucking Chase against a steamy wall and loving it.
As I slid in and out of his hole effortlessly, everything else in my life melted away. Chase was all that mattered. Making his body feel as good as I felt being inside of him was my only motivation.
"Come inside me, babe," Chase whispered. His neck arched and his lips blindly found my mouth. With no further encouragement necessary, I shot my load deep inside my fabulous boyfriend.
"Fuck," he moaned loudly, grinding backwards and swallowing my cock as far as it could go. I felt my cum coat his insides and spew out sexily over my cock and balls. Chase's body vibrated in front of me and I felt his cock contract in my hand as he spewed rope after rope of cum onto the bathroom wall. It took me a second to come down from my orgasm and realize that Chase was soaping me up.
"So rumor has it, I'm your first relationship," I said as he massaged my back with a warm towel.
"Who's spreading rumors about me?" he asked. I couldn't see his face, but there was definitely a sense of humor to his tone.
"Andy."
"He's getting an ass kicking, then," he said, kissing the back of my neck. This much affection had to be illegal. "You are indeed my first official relationship."
"That's a deal breaker then," I joked. "I should probably pack up and leave."
"Oh yeah?" Chase asked, scooting in on me and grinding his semi-hard dick on my ass. "I dare you to try walking away from this, homeboy."
Knowing that I was Chase's first real steady relationship should have been a red flag, I decided. But everyone has a first love. Some people stop there. I had the experience of finding someone and losing them and I wasn't afraid of it. Breaking up with Kyle had made me realize I could survive a break up. But if I ran for the hills now just because Chase hadn't experienced that before, there'd be no break up to survive because there'd be no relationship to be had. I decided it didn't matter. I was taking a leap, and my leap, I hoped, would lead me to Chase's chiseled arms.
We toweled off and waddled back to Chase's room where homework was forgotten in lieu of round two. After feeling Chase reciprocate my passionate loving with a fuck session of his own, we settled into our most comfortable position: me spooned inside of Chase's powerful, rock solid nook.
"So, monsieur," he whispered after a deep breath like a nervous school kid. "I have a huge meet coming up this weekend in Waco."
"I really thought you were going to say you had a huge meat right now," I chuckled. Chase laughed deep and hard, his abs expanding into my back.
"Is it never going to be enough for you?"
"Never," I replied. "I will use you till you dry up, my friend."
"Damn," he said with a laugh. "My balls hurt already."
We laughed again. "Meet this weekend. On Friday?"
"It's all day Saturday. If I advance, finals are Sunday at some point," he said. "I would love it if you came."
"Again?" I smiled. He couldn't see it, but it was a joyous smile that only a lover could evoke. I was completely and utterly taken by Chase now that I'd let my baggage with Kyle go. I could appreciate him for all that he was, and I realized he made me happy from head to toe.
"You're a sicko."
"You love it," I chided. "I'll be there, sir."
We fell asleep joking around about how horny the two of us combined were. Instead of separating to get actual work done, Chase gave me a beginner's French lesson that ended with me knowing the word for kiss and a demonstration on how to do so properly. He said teaching me the words was better than him doing his French homework. I fell asleep with the words `bonsoir mon amour' ringing in my head with no idea what they meant.
I woke up on Thursday, dressed in a pair of Chase's sweats and a t-shirt and limped through the motions of my day. I looked forward to seeing him swim, and nothing my professor's said could have put a damper on that anticipation.
I went home to my room after my classes to change for dinner with Sebastian, when I got an email notification on my laptop. I checked the email and found it was from the Dean of Freshman by way of the student health center.
From Doctor McKenzie (CC Dean Bishop and Sebastian Kennedy): Mr. Carpenter, in light of your recent admission to the Student Health Services Center, it has been deemed that necessary that you seek counseling for your abuse of alcohol. You have been enrolled in a mandatory drug and alcohol education course scheduled for Saturday, February 18, at the student health services pavilion. Failure to attend this session and complete the course to the satisfaction of the instructor will result in disciplinary action through the Student Faculty Hearing Committee.
Apparently Doctor McKenzie had meant serious business the previous morning. So serious, in fact, that she scheduled me for the first available course. I was kind of annoyed that my name was now on the radar with Bishop, the Dean of Freshman, but I was even more annoyed that they had to CC my dorm counselor about the whole thing. I was most annoyed that my Saturday was now spoken for. Chase would be bummed that I couldn't go to his meet, but at the risk of further disciplinary action, he'd have to get over it.
I was less than shocked when Sebastian brought it up at dinner.
"Yeah, I got the email," I answered.
"So it looks like your Saturday is going to be spent with Old Man Lyles, probably the most boring human on this planet."
"You've had to take the course?" I asked.
"Every DC has to take it. It's torture, I'm warning you."
"I guess I'll have to tell Chase it's a no go on his meet this weekend. I was looking forward to it," I said sadly.
"You two are getting serious, aren't you?" Sebastian asked with his mouth full of Lezzaria's famous spaghetti and meat balls. It was the third time the words serious had been thrown around.
"Yeah, I guess we are," I said, fiddling with my salad. "I mean, he asked me to be his boyfriend and I said yes. And I'm treating it differently, you know? I made a lot of mistakes when I was with Kyle that I don't see happening this time around."
"You two have only known each other for a couple of months. There's nothing wrong with slowing down." It was a valid advice.
After dinner, plagued with the task of telling Chase I wouldn't be there to watch him swim over the weekend, I decided to try my luck first. I looked up Lyles in the faculty handbook, wrote down his office number and sent him an email asking for a 9:00 a.m. appointment.
By the time I left for Backstroke with an overnight bag, I still hadn't heard back, so I decided to simply show up and plead my case for moving my session back a week. I wasn't a raging alcoholic. My situation wasn't nearly as dire as Doctor McKenzie made it out to be.
Chase and I were pretty good that night and studied for at least an hour before we collapsed into his bed, intertwined in a complicated but penetrative sexual position. We took another study break an hour later, and finally, gave up trying to get work done altogether for load number three. We collapsed in our position and I fell asleep fiddling with his fingers while he purred contentedly behind me.
I woke up at the crack of dawn, showered and changed all before nine in the morning. By the time the first school bell chimed at the Methodist Chapel in the center of campus on Friday morning, I was knocking on Counselor Lyle's office door.
"Come on in," a tall, blonde, blue eyed man with a crazy sexy English accent said, opening the door and ushering me in. There was no way this was the `Old Man Lyles' that Sebastian had described. There was nothing boring or old about this man. He was gorgeous, and that alone would have made the alcohol class worth it.
"How can I help you?" the guy asked after offering me a seat.
"Hi, I'm Cooper Carpenter," I said, extending a hand. I coughed to get the strength back in my voice. "I'm looking for Mr. Lyles."
"Mr. Lyles is unfortunately on leave," the sexy Brit explained. "Heart problems, lung problems. I'm not quite sure, but I'm filling in for him. I'm Mitchell Parker."
"Mr. Parker," I started.
"Mitchell will do just fine."
"Mitchell," I began. I went right into my rehearsed monologue. "Mitchell, I'm scheduled to attend your alcohol education class on Saturday. And I just wanted to see if there was any way I could get it changed. I mean, I could do the class today if you would let me. It's just I have a very important engagement tomorrow and I would really appreciate it if we could reschedule."
The thought that he would agree was farfetched at best. I was asking for a favor I didn't deserve. I was the one who'd fucked up and gotten sent to the hospital. That wasn't his problem.
With a swift movement, Parker dug into a filing cabinet to his left and rifled through a file.
"Carpenter?" he asked, looking up at me. I nodded. He pulled up a manila envelope that had my file in it and set it on his desk.
"Tell me about your prior engagement," he said, sitting back. He fingered his pen in his hands, putting it in between his straight, porcelain teeth every so often.
"Oh," I replied, taken aback by the question. "I um, my good friend is having a swim meet and I promised I would go."
"That hardly seems like a reason to let you skip the course," he replied. "A swim meet for a friend is highly elective. This course is mandatory."
"I understand that," I replied. "But he's a really good friend and he was kind of there for me when I got into this whole mess to begin with."
Mitchell looked me square in the eye as if he read exactly what I was saying. Chase is my fucking boyfriend. I'm falling in love with him and I would do anything to get to see his meet.
The counselor's expression softened as he opened my file and grazed through it. Luckily for me, it was pretty thin.
"This friend, he was there for you when you were sent to the health center for alcohol?"
"Yes sir," I said.
"No sir, just Mitchell." I nodded. "It says here your brother stayed with you over night in the health center. Is this the same `friend'?"
"Umm... yeah," I said with a sheepish grin.
"And I'm assuming he means a lot to you, then."
"He does, Mitchell," I replied. Mitchell flipped my file shut, stood up and walked around his desk so that he was on the same side as me. He leaned against the edge in a pose that could have easily been misinterpreted. I didn't think I was giving off any flirty vibes, so I wondered what this goal was.
"What do you have on your plate tonight?" he asked me. I told him I had volleyball until nine.
"I'd rather not set a precedent of letting students push back their counseling sessions, so let's move it up instead, shall we?"
"You mean to meet tonight at nine?" I asked. I swallowed a lump in my throat. The late night session coupled with the unmistakable pose and the fact that my very detailed file eluded to the fact that Chase, who no one believed was actually my brother, had spent the night with me in the health center made me think this wasn't going to be a normal counseling session.
"If that's alright with you. Otherwise, I'll have to require you to come in on Saturday and miss your little boyfriend's swim meet."
The tone was unmistakable. I should have pulled the plug right then and there. But part of me didn't want to disappoint Chase. He'd gone all the way to Austin to see me. Plus he'd ruined his own weekend to make sure I was okay. I owed him the support. I resolved to go to the cute Brit's counseling session with a clear line that I wouldn't cross, no matter what. If the choice came between cheating and missing the meet, I'd miss it. I wasn't going to screw my new relationship up this early. I didn't have plans to screw it up at all.
I had dinner with Sebastian that night before practice. I debated telling him about getting propositioned by the new alcohol counselor, but decided against it. Instead, I listened to him prattle off.
"Devon wanted to know if you're okay," he said.
"I'm fine. The black eye will fade."
"She sort of feels responsible, you know."
"She isn't," I assured, pecking at my salad. The subject of Devon was sort of weird to me. I was attracted to her in a way I hadn't been attracted to a girl in almost a year. "I dunno. I feel like I've been on a slippery slope, you know? And my life was finally looking up with the whole Chase thing and having you as a good friend. I was bound to screw it up."
"You're not a natural screw up, Coop."
"Tell that to Kyle and Spencer."
"Who, I still think, you need to talk to. Especially before you run into him at the meet tomorrow."
He had a good point. If I was dating Chase, Spencer and I were bound to cross paths. Fuck, I'd even made amends with Kyle. I had to reach down and find a way to see things from Spencer's point of view. Even if I wasn't going to forgive him, I needed to clear the tension.
After dinner, I called Chase on my way to the Rec Center and told him I wasn't sure when I would get out of my counseling session.
"Isn't it weird that this guy wants you to meet him at his apartment at night for your session?" he asked suspiciously. I brushed off the question with a joke about last minute switch ups. He told me to come to Backstroke after, no matter what time it was. He wasn't allowed to fuck around the night before a meet, but he did say, in the cutest way: "I won't get a good night's sleep unless you're here."
Truthfully, the anticipation of what was going to happen with Mitchell weighed heavily on me during practice.
"Focus on your sets!" Tye screamed at me after my second botched hut to Jim. I shook it off, focused on the next pass and passed a successful slide to Casey as he ran behind me. "That's more like it."
After practice, Tye pulled me aside to explain that he wanted me to start at nationals.
"Lucky's ankle will be hit or miss at that point. I'll keep him on standby."
"What about Penny?" I asked, realizing I hadn't seen Penny that night. In all of my own anticipation for my post-practice plans, I hadn't even noticed that Penny was missing in a big way.
"Penny is going through some issues," Tye explained. "He thinks I'm replacing him before his time is up and he's opted not to go to nationals with us. Now's your time to take the reigns."
I nodded my head, suddenly feeling the pressure. I was the setter for the first team. I couldn't have any more practices like I had tonight, I decided. Lucky was gone and now I needed to step up.
I took my time showering and changing. At about 8:45, I hopped in my Camry and drove to the address Mitchell Parker had given me. His apartment was in uptown Dallas, just off of Cedar Springs Blvd. As I drove down Cedar Springs, I knew without a doubt that I was in the gay district of Dallas. Rainbows flew on flags on every corner. There were a few clubs, underwear shops and tattoo parlors peppering the streets. I turned off Cedar and found Mitchell's apartment complex exactly where my GPS described.
When he opened the door, the smell of pastries filled my nostrils. Mitchell stood before me in a pair of khaki shorts and a wife beater. It would have been a complete and total lie to say that his strong frame, hairy chest and chiseled face weren't attractive. Had I been single, I might have even considered him sexy in an aristocratic, Prince Harry sort of way. That night, however, I just wanted to get in, hear about alcohol, and get out.
The biggest surprise when I walked in, stripped my jacket and took a seat in his under decorated living room, was the presence of a bottle of wine and two glasses. A plate of cookies sat in the middle of the coffee table as well.
"I wasn't expecting this," I said with a raised eyebrow.
"Make yourself comfortable," he said with a smile. "I figure a two hour lecture on responsible drinking. We may as well make the most of it, no?"
I nodded. Without much introduction, Mitchell poured two glasses of wine, explained that a glass of wine was equivalent to a shot of liquor and a can of beer. He went on to summarize healthy drinking practices.
"The goal of this isn't to make you say no to alcohol. It's to make you say yes for the right reasons."
He gave me a quick survey on why I drink. He concluded that my main problem was that I was stuck in `Drink to get drunk' mode.
"Change your relationship with drinking and you won't have missteps like last weekend," he said at the end of the lecture. He stood up and refilled both of our glasses. This time, however, he sat down on the couch next to me instead of across. It was an hour and half into the session and three glasses of wine when the come-on escalated.
"Do you have any questions?" Mitchell asked. I swallowed hard.
"None," I replied. "I guess I should head out then."
"You can stay for a little while," he said in a soft accent laden voice. "I won't bite you."
"That's not what I was afraid of," I responded.
A second later, in a less than surprising turn, Mitchell kissed me square on the lips. At first, I sat back and let him kiss me. It was actually a good kiss. As much as I had anticipated him to hit on me, the kiss was still jarring.
"I'm sorry," I said pushing Mitchell back a little bit. I pushed his shoulders back, surprised at how muscular they were. I found myself, instead of pushing against them like I should have, feeling the muscles on his shoulder and chest.
"I'm sorry too," he replied. "I didn't mean to put you in an awkward position. I just thought you'd be up for it."
As soon as he said that, he grabbed my crotch and gave it a squeeze. My body reacted without consulting my mind, and my cock sprang up in my jeans. My cock hardening was all the encouragement that Mitchell needed. He returned to my lips and kissed me while he massaged my dick through my jeans. I stretched out a little, giving him better access and before I knew it, Mitchell had my yard stick out and was pumping it up and down while he sucked on my tongue.
I moaned softly into his mouth the minute my cock was out, a bead of precum dripping down. Mitchell's grasp was firm and strong and felt insanely good. Whatever technique he'd brought across the pond was working.
In an instant of clarity, I pulled away from Mitchell and stood up quickly. I had already crossed the line I'd set for myself before I set out. The look of Chase's perfect face flashed in my mind and I realized I couldn't be there anymore.
"I have to go," I said, pulling my pants up and zipping them cautiously. "I'm sorry, I have to go."
I slid my shoes on and fled down the stairs of Mitchell's apartment building while he looked after me from his doorway. I must have looked like Cinderella fleeing the castle as I ran for my Camry and drove straight to Backstroke.
"Hey babe," Chase said, letting me in. I could tell he'd been in bed already. I bound upstairs behind him, going back and forth between whether or not I should tell him.
When we finally got to Chase's room, I decided to go ahead and explain it to him and then apologize like crazy after.
"I'm glad you came," he said, stretching and crawl into bed behind me. He was ready to doze off, but I was wide awake.
"Of course," I whispered. I kissed him goodnight and turned away.
"I have something I need to tell you," I said when he had his arms firmly wrapped around me and I was playing with this fingers.
"Now that I'm vulnerable and in bed? Crafty, Monsieur."
I took a deep breath and said it. "The alcohol counselor kissed me tonight."
I'm not sure what I expected out of Chase. If I had been in Kyle's arms, I know he would have stiffened immediately. He would have asked me a bunch of questions about it, each sentence dripping with attitude.
"Yeah? Do you want me to beat him up for you?" was all Chase said. I couldn't help but smile.
"I think we should let him go with just a warning. He seemed lonely," I replied.
"He must have been to kiss you."
"Rude," I responded, smiling wide.
"You're in my house, bitch," Chase said. He kissed me on the neck. "Let's try not letting that happen again, yeah?"
Overcome with feelings for him, I snuggled in close, and fiddled with his fingers until he fell asleep. I felt his breathing deepen and slow down, and when I knew he was knocked out behind me, I said it in just above a whisper.
"I love you."
**Feeling titillated? I'd like to hear about it! Like I said, I appreciate all feedback, so please drop me a line at jwolf24450@gmail.com.