Just one of the guys

Spring

Dylan drove toward town to grab lunch. He had come home from college for the weekend. He wanted to service his Jeep; oil, filter, and grease the fittings on the suspension, for he was slightly over three thousand miles. He knew if he waited until after the spring semester ended, he would be way over on mileage. Or maybe that was just an excuse if he were honest with himself. The semester was tough, having to study harder than in any of the previous three semesters. It was Physics that was giving him the most difficulty, and his long hours of study for it seemed to plague him on an advanced writing course.

It was a warm clear day, spring ready to transition into summer, and he drove down 91 with the top down and doors off, letting the wind swirl around the open Jeep. He drove leisurely, for he had the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon to himself. His parents had taken off for Raleigh to go shopping and if his dad could talk his mother into it, stop at a couple of car dealerships to look at a new truck.

He passed Greene Central High School, where he had graduated two years prior. Only two years and the place seemed alien to him, like it was another place altogether. He wondered what Keith, Andy, and Bobby were doing, knowing Keith and Andy had gone off to college, one in South Carolina and one to Virginia. Bobby had stayed to take up farming with his dad and Dylan could not stop himself from thinking it was a mistake. That Bobby was letting an opportunity for an easier life slip past, but he also knew Bobby had struggled with his grades and if the truth be known, loved farming.

At the crazy intersection, first crossing Beaman Old Creek Road, then the major intersection where 91, 13, 903, and 258 all came together. Dylan wondered who named and laid out the roads for them to have such a convoluted layout. If he went straight, he would be on 258 heading south. Instead, he turned left, the turn sharp, taking him on a northeastern direction, on the road that was 258. And 903. He accelerated, shifting through the gears until at speed, not wanting to be a hindrance to the other traffic.

It was a little over twelve miles to Farmville, the nearest town, but a short distance to the east was Greenville, a small city. But all he wanted was a burger and there was a fast-food place on the south side of Farmville on Alt 264. He drove up 258, keeping with the traffic until he could see the gas station on the right and signs for Alt 264, and he slowed, then turned right, then after about two hundred feet, turned left. The fast-food place was busy with a long line around the building, but he was pleased to see the parking lot wasn’t full. He pulled around until in the parking lot and pulled in next to another Jeep, this one dark blue, instead of yellow like his own.

Dylan strolled in, made his way through the line, picked up his order and took a seat near the front to one side. He sat with his back to the front wall for he liked to people watch. What he really like to do was scope out other guys. Since leaving for college, he had become more confident in himself making him bolder in scoping out other guys. When he had left fall before last to start his freshman year, he had been timid about coming out, and in the community, he still had not done so. He had told his parents that Christmas, and after months of tough phone calls, they finally came around. But former classmates, even those that were his friends, he held his secret. It was at college that he felt a sense of freedom that allowed him to come out to the guys on his floor. It was liberating how those that accepted him, or just didn’t care, far outweighed those that had an issue with him being gay.

It wasn’t long and a group of young people came in. Dylan watched them get in line, sizing up the three guys. He quickly discerned the two girls were friends and one was the girlfriend of one of the guys. The other two guys were alone, but one seemed interested in the other girl. And the other guy seemed content to stay at the periphery, following them through the line, then to a table in the middle of the dining room, only ten feet away from him.

It was too easy. To eavesdrop on the group’s conversation. They were talking loud as teenagers are prone to do. The gossip of classmates, the reference to a teacher and their unfair quiz of last Wednesday, then mention of their prom. He heard the couple tell of getting a limousine, and a jab at the guy who liked the other girl, asking if he was going to ask someone to the prom, and he gave the girl he liked a sideways look. It was all there, the circling around each other without making the connection. Then the girlfriend looked at the guy who was alone, the one off to the side, literally sitting at the table across the aisle from them.

Keenan, are you going to ask someone to the prom? You didn’t even try last year. It’s our senior year. You just have to ask someone.

Keenan’s reply was too low, the words spoken to the floor, not to the girl, but Dylan didn’t need to hear his reply to know it.

He had the guy’s name: Keenan. It wasn’t a popular name. He had not heard it before. But it seemed to fit the shy, introverted senior who was going to skip another prom.

Dylan kept finding himself looking at Keenan, studying the physical aspects while noting the mannerisms, the way he looked away right after answering a question he didn’t want to answer. Dylan replayed the group’s entry, considering each guy’s build. Keenan had been between the other two in height, and guessing, Dylan figured Keenan was about five ten or so. He looked at how the clothes hung on him. The shirt that was loose and the pants that seemed baggy and sitting down it was obvious Keenan was lean to the point of being skinny. It was obvious in the exposed arms and how the pant legs draped over the legs when he was seated.

Dylan looked at the face framed in thick wavy black hair that Keenan was constantly pushing out of his eyes, eyes that appeared dark, almost black, so they had to be dark brown. Keenan was pale and fair, a babyface, and Dylan wondered if that was something that added to his shyness. The sense he was still a kid, not a teenager on the cusp of manhood.

Keenan, what do you think your parents will get you for your birthday?

It was the boyfriend, and Dylan could see sincere interest in the answer.

I’m getting a car or SUV, but dad won’t tell me what it is.

What did you ask for?

A Jeep.

Dylan suppressed the desire to smile, taking a drink to push past the temptation. He hoped Keenan got a Jeep too. A guy as shy as Keenan could use it to break the ice with someone. He hadn’t been shy but riding with the Jeep open exposed him to the stares and comments of others, and around campus, it had led to one date with a guy. But what Keenan was getting on this birthday wasn’t what really interested him. What he wanted to know was who was Keenan attracted to: male or female. He desperately wanted to know, despite come Sunday afternoon he was headed back to Chapel Hill and would probably never see Keenan again. He didn’t even know if the guy was from Farmville, or one of the communities nearby. Dylan wanted there to be other guys like himself, guys who grew up in this small town or rural area surrounding it that were into guys. It would help kill off that lingering notion he had been the only one. The only gay guy in his school, in his community, or even around Farmville. He wanted there to be others, and for the sake of guys like Keenan, a lot of them.

Dylan kept looking at the partial concealed face. The small slightly upturned nose, the thin curved eyebrows over each dark eye, the thin lips and high cheek bones and strong line of the jaw. Keenan was beautiful, not model good looks like in American ads, but he was attractive, like guys in ads he saw from Europe or Great Britain, where there wasn’t such a fantasy of perfection. Dylan saw in Keenan a guy that was intriguing, one who would no doubt grow into his body over time.

The group began to stand up, gathering up empty wrappers, cardboard containers, and cups. For a few seconds the three guys stood next to each other, and Dylan realized he had been wrong. Keenan had appeared shorter by the way he carried himself. But next to the other two, Dylan saw he was clearly the tallest of the three, six foot or taller. It added to the allure, his attraction toward him.

Dylan watched them leave, tossing their trash as they went out. He sat up so he could see them cross the parking lot. There was an older Tahoe with aftermarket wheels and stickers covering the tailgate. The boyfriend got behind wheel and his girlfriend got in the passenger seat, with the other three climbing in the backseat. Keenan was in the seat behind the driver, and once the doors were closed, the Tahoe was soon pulling away.

Thirty minutes or less. That is all it took for Dylan to see a guy he felt an attraction, then watch him leave just as easy and quick as he arrived, never to see him again.

Fall

Dylan arrived on campus ready for his junior year. He was excited by the fact he was over halfway through his college courses for a degree, and the classes were more focused on his major. He pulled into the dorm parking lot and into a space near the back side. Heading toward the dorms, backpack and a duffel bag over one shoulder and pulling a large suitcase. He scanned the vehicles in the lot looking to see if he recognized any of them, wondering if any of his friends were on campus. He found himself looking at some of the Jeeps in the lot, comparing them to his own. There were a few similar, and there were other models, like old Cherokees, scattered through the parking lot.

He neared the main sidewalk that led to the dorms, falling in with a few other guys, each dragging a suitcase or carrying just purchased items. Movement to his left and he turned to see a white four-door Jeep going down the road then turning into a parking lot on the other side of it.

In the dorm, Dylan went to the second floor and strolled down the corridor, stopping frequently to chat with one of the other guys. At room 231, he came in to find Matthew already set up on the left side of the room.

Matthew and he had spent a lot of time together last spring helping each other with one course or another. Matthew was straight but had no issues with Dylan being gay, treating him like any other guy in the dorm. It was comforting, the normal nature of their friendship, and when they set up housing for the fall, they decided to room together since they were good study partners.

Over the next two days before classes began, Dylan got settled in, catching up with friends and making a few new ones. They played video games late into the night, hung out at the microbrewery or the sports bar on West Franklin Street, or just walked around downtown. When classes began, Dylan found himself struggling to get into the routine of getting up early and to his first class, but by the beginning of the second week he no longer had to check his schedule for room numbers or what class was next.

Three days a week, he had two classes back-to-back, thankful they were in the same building, then an hour break before his third class, that was across campus. He used the hour to go to the café on campus for a cup of coffee, then would ride his bike to his next class. The following Friday, rain threatening to fall any minute, he skipped the café stop, and headed on to his next class. He would sit somewhere inside the building and check his messages, maybe even read a bit before the class started. He was pedaling a little harder than usual, worried about getting caught in the rain that was approaching from the southwest. He swung out wide around students on foot, took walks less crowded even if it added a little extra distance. He swung around the corner of a building and stood on the pedals when someone came racing out of the building in front of him. They turned in the same direction he was headed so all he could see was fast moving legs, a backpack hanging from both shoulders and wavy black hair blowing in the increasing wind. He swung out wide to not startle them and coasted for an easy pass. He glanced at the guy, yes, to check them out, and lost control. He recognized the guy and it surprised him to see them on campus. He ran off the sidewalk and when he tried to turn back on it, the tire caught the edge, throwing him off-balance. He fell, luckily in the grass, with the bicycle caught up in his legs. Sitting on his ass, more embarrassed than hurt, Dylan looked up at Keenan standing over him.

“Hey man, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Hurt my pride more than my ass,” Dylan joked.

Keenan helped him get free of the bicycle, and Dylan climbed to his feet.

“Thanks Keenan,” Dylan uttered as he looked over his bike.

“H-how do you know my name?”

“I, huh…” Dylan stammered, aware of his mistake. He looked at the surprised expression and knew he had to say something. “You’re from Farmville, right? I think…one of my friends from high school knew some of you guys,” he lied.

“You’re from Farmville too? I don’t remember you.”

“No, I’m from south of town. Went to Greene.”

“Oh, I see.”

Rain began to fall, a few large drops, and they looked up at the darkening sky.

“I’ve got to get to class. See you around…” said Keenan, stumbling on how to address Dylan.

“Oh, sorry, I’m Dylan.”

“Dylan; see you around,” Keenan replied, hooking his thumbs behind the straps of his backpack, and taking off in a fast walk.

Dylan watched him for a second, until the rain increased, and he jumped on his bicycle and took off knowing he was going to have to sit through his next class wet

Dylan got back to his dorm room, soaked to his skin. Outside the dorm, the rains had slowed to a drizzle. Matthew was still at classes, so he had the room to himself. He stripped off his wet clothes, debating whether, or not to take a hot shower. Just removing the wet clothes made him feel better, so he toweled off. With skin feeling clean and soft, he stood naked. He thought of Keenan, standing over him. He pictured the face with its concerned expression and the wavy black hair. He pictured the dark brown eyes imaging them seeing him as a gay man. He imagined it, Keenan coming to his dorm room, the two of them alone. He wondered if he would have to make the first move, knowing Keenan probably would not do it. What would Keenan want to do? They would suck each other, of course, as he toyed with his growing erection, picturing himself down on his knees in front of Keenan. Then they would get on his bed, and he imagined Keenan moving over him, pushing his legs back while spreading them. He would open up to Keenan, let him bury cock inside his hole. He imagined the feel of it, a full deep penetration as he stroked his hard cock.

Dylan didn’t hear the noise of two guys running down the hall. He didn’t notice the sun breaking through the clouds and shining in. He stood with eyes closed, imagining he was now on his stomach with Keenan on top. Keenan against his back undulating with their fuck. He imagined how cock would pump deep into his hole and hot exhales would caress his neck and shoulder. Or maybe, Keenan would grab him by the hair, pulling his head back as cock bore into his depths. He shuddered with the image of him held submissively by Keenan, cock pumping into his ass. Then he came, cum spewing from his cock as he imagined Keenan pumping his ass full of cum.

Dylan opened his eyes and saw the puddles of cum on the floor. He smiled, then jerked around to look at the door. Someone could have walked in, and he felt his face flush hot with embarrassment. He grabbed up his wet boxers and wiped the floor, grabbed up his toiletry case and clean boxers and went into the bathroom to shower.

Saturday morning arrived bright and sunny. Matthew lay on his bed half asleep when Dylan came out of the bathroom. He looked at Matthew, shaking his head, then out the window at the bright sky.

“Let’s go to Seaforth Beach,” said Dylan, referring to one of the parks on Lake Jordan south of the university.

“I don’t know,” Matthew uttered as he rolled to his side so he could look out the window.

“Come on, it’ll help with that hangover you’re suffering from this morning.”

“Shut up,” Matthew jokingly replied, then he rolled up, feet on the floor. “Maybe the air will help. Can we grab something to eat on the way?”

“Sure.”

Dylan turned off the main road into the park, heading south into the park. The road curved and angled across the peninsula, passing one parking lot where the boat ramps were located, until cutting down the middle of it. They were close to the end of the road that came to a long narrow parking lot, when they came upon a bicyclist. It was a road bike, and the rider was dressed casually instead of the usual skintight clothing most wore when riding. Khaki shorts and a t-shirt that billowed around the waist.

“We should have ridden our bikes,” said Matthew.

“Yeah, right. As hungover as you are, you think you could have ridden all the way down here?” Dylan replied.

“Fair point.”

Dylan eased into the other lane to pass. He sped up, and as they moved around the bicyclist, he saw it was Keenan. He couldn’t stop himself, and he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” asked Matthew.

“I know that guy?”

“A past trick?”

“No, no, just someone from back in Farmville.”

Matthew was quiet for a few seconds as they pulled away from Keenan. Dylan kept looking in the mirror until he lost site of him at a curve.

“You’d like to know him, wouldn’t you?” asked Matthew, looking over with a grin.

Dylan smiled back, nodding his head.

“You do like the tall geeky looking bastards,” said Matthew shaking his head.

“Hey, Taylor wasn’t tall; the one from last spring.”

“Taylor…Taylor? Oh, that short guy who looked all of fourteen. I was worried you were messing with jailbait.”

“He was nineteen, a year older than us!” Dylan replied.

“Sure didn’t look it. So, what’s the story with…Kevin was it?”

“Keenan, and there is no story. I’ve seen him back in Farmville and I admit, I find him attractive.”

“With that tall, skinny, geeky boy look,” said Matthew, chuckling at how predictable Dylan could be. “Do you remember Justin?”

“Justin? No.”

“The guy who looked like he should be on the football team. Tall, muscular, and so attractive girls and guys at that huge party last fall were throwing themselves at him. And he wanted you, who couldn’t care less.”

“I don’t remember.”

“Of course not. He wasn’t what you find attractive.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dylan replied as he pulled into a parking space near the sand volleyball court.

They cut across the grass to the strip of sand that made up the beach along the lake’s shore. There were groups of people all along the stretch of beach, and it was obvious to Dylan and Matthew, most were college students, like themselves.

“There’s Ryan and Cynthia,” said Matthew pointing down the beach.

Dylan saw Ryan and Cynthia were with four other people, one of which was April, someone Matthew was interested in. They walked to the group and after greeting each other, tossed their towels down on the sand close to them, pulled off their shirts, and sat down. It wasn’t long and Matthew had April pulled into a conversation about music and what local bands she liked. The others continued to talk among themselves, and it let Dylan focus his attention down the beach. He saw Keenan come out just below them, having walked next to the group of trees between the parking lot and beach just below the volleyball court.

Keenan came out carrying his backpack loosely in one hand and stopped at the edge of the sand. A look north, then south.

“Come on, over here,” whispered Dylan. But he was disappointed, for Keenan went down to where the beach wasn’t as crowded.

“Hey guys, I’m going for a walk,” said Dylan climbing to his feet.

“Going to look for that boy?” asked Matthew.

Dylan saw the looks, some smiling but two shocked that Matthew would so openly suggest it.

“Yes, I’m going to go say hello,” Dylan replied with more confidence in his voice than he felt. He felt a bit foolish running off like a schoolgirl with a crush, but he saw an opportunity, Keenan sitting alone.

Walking down the beach, Dylan kept his eyes on Keenan. The spreading of a towel, taking out a water and drinking long and hard from the bottle, then looking out over the lake. Keenan seemed to hesitate, looking up and down the beach, then he tugged his t-shirt off revealing the skinny white skin beneath. It was obvious to Dylan Keenan wasn’t one to go without a shirt very often by how his arms were slightly tanned against the rest of his upper body.

Keenan tossed the shirt down and headed to the water. Dylan angled closer to the shoreline, determined to catch up with him. Keenan waded out until water was just below his shorts and he stopped, looking over at those further out.

“Hey Keenan, how’s the water?” Dylan called out, standing at the water’s edge behind him.

Keenan turned and looked surprised to see him.

“Dylan?”

“Hey, we saw you riding in on your bicycle.”

“I’m trying to get more exercise,” Keenan replied, lowering his voice.

“I ride too, but I usually stay in town and around campus.”

Keenan just stood still, acting as if he wasn’t sure what to say. He looked out over the lake, then back at Dylan.

“Are you going to swim?” asked Keenan.

“I, huh, I wasn’t…” Dylan stammered in a low voice, then louder, “yeah, I’ll wade out here if that is okay?”

“Sure,” Keenan replied.

“Can I put my wallet and keys with your stuff?”

“Yeah, its that blanket and backpack over there,” Keenan replied pointing straight up the beach.

Dylan almost jogged up to Keenan’s stuff, tossing his keys and wallet down, then thinking better of it, and moved the backpack over them. He jogged back to the water, not slowing until in knee deep water, where he slowed as he waded out to Keenan.

“It’s colder than I remember it being,” said Dylan.

“After my bike ride, it feels good,” Keenan replied, then turned and started wading out.

Dylan saw it. Some self-consciousness about his body. The way he held his arms in front of his chest, or how he quickly turned and started out without waiting. Then there was earlier, standing on the beach looking around before taking off the t-shirt.

Keenan was lean to the point of being skinny, but Dylan still saw the masculine nature of his body. The long torso, one he tried to imagine undulating on top of him. The imagine of Keenan fucking him was exaggerated, the body undulating like a serpent, with hips thrusting cock into his depths. He imagined the cock banging his insides making him see stars while hands moved over his upper body and lips touched his neck, ran along his jaw, then pressed passionately against his own. He felt his cock stir at his imaginings as he waded out behind him.

“How’s classes? You getting into the routine?” asked Dylan.

“They’re good. Not nearly as hard as I feared,” Keenan replied as he came to a stop where the water was up to his waist. “This should be deep enough,” and without another word, Keenan dove, his long body arching into the water barely disturbing its surface.

Dylan dove too, just to the side of where Keenan went in, hoping to catch up with him.

They swam around each other, made comments about the beach, the park, and life on campus. Dylan circled around the topic of hooking up, of meeting people, but Keenan never commented on it. Eventually they waded back toward shore and when the water was only knee deep, Dylan struggled not to stare at Keenan. The khaki shorts were not swim trunks that could be tied off tightly. Instead, they were hanging low on the hips, real low, and Dylan kept stealing looks at how much abdomen was exposed. How pubic hair wasn’t exposed at the waistband he didn’t know. Dylan slowed so he could see Keenan from the back and how the top of his ass was visible and he wondered what Keenan would do if he slipped his finger down in it…or no, his tongue, yeah, his tongue worming its way down into that dark crevice.

Keenan sat on the wet sand close enough to the water’s edge his feet were in it. Dylan sat next to him, closer than normal for two guys. A shift of the right foot, or a short reach over, and he could be touching Keenan.

“Why didn’t you get someone to ride down with you?” asked Dylan after a minute of silence, the two of them just watching the others in the water.

“I don’t know,” said Keenan, then he held his head down while making lines in the sand with his index finger. “I don’t really know anyone. My roommate is gone a lot and I…”

“So, you’re a little introverted. But you know others are too. Why didn’t you just walk up to someone on your floor that rides and ask if they wanted to go?”

“I don’t know. It does seem silly, doesn’t it?”

“Hell, if you had asked me, I would have ridden with you,” Dylan replied.

“Really?”

“Sure. Hey, you want to grab your stuff and come over to where we’re spread out. I don’t really know everyone over there, so…what do you say?”

“They won’t mind?”

“Oh, hell no, come on.

It was late, the sky darkening, as Dylan drove back toward campus. He smiled and chuckled, feeling excited by the possibilities. He looked in the rearview mirror at Ryan following him knowing Matthew was riding shotgun for in his passenger seat was Keenan, his bike laying in the back. A glance to his right and he saw Keenan tapping his knee and bouncing it up and down to the rhythm of the song playing. He also saw how Keenan never looked his way. Was he just oblivious or was he too shy to look at him? He wanted to know.

“Hey, when we get back, you want to get cleaned up and go grab something to eat? I’m starving,” Dylan asked, looking from the road to Keenan, back and forth, wanting to see if Keenan would face him.

“Yeah, sure; if you don’t have other plans with your friends,” Keenan replied, looking over with a smile.

“Nah. I’ll drop you off in front of your dorm then park. I’ll run to my dorm, clean up and come back over and we can walk into town.”

Dylan found himself jogging to his dorm excited about the prospects of getting Keenan alone, even in some public restaurant. He initially thought of burgers at the sports bar but knew some of his friends would no doubt be there and as late as it was, already have two or three drinks in them. They would be loud and intrusive. Then he considered the small pizza place down the street and knew it would be crowded. Then he remembered a place he had found last Spring, a small café that catered more to the residents and faculty of the town than to students. It was on the opposite side of town from campus, and it was quiet, low key, and by the time they arrived, the dinner crowd would be thinning down.

Keenan was waiting for him on the steps of his dorm, and it made Dylan smile at how he was waiting for him.

“Hey, ready to go eat?”

“Yes,” Keenan replied climbing to his feet.

They walked side by side across campus and into town. As they strolled down the sidewalk of West Franklin Street, they kept looking into the places crowded with other students. After several blocks they came to the curve where the street changed to East Main Street and a block further up, Dylan led Keenan into the small café. It was as expected, mostly older adults in a quieter atmosphere. Soft Jazz played over the sound system and the dining room had three empty tables and a booth along the far wall.

“Welcome to The Red Leaf, is it just two?” asked a waitress as she swung by going to a table along the front window.

“Yes,” Dylan replied.

“Just sit wherever and one of us will be with you shortly.”

“Come on, let’s take the booth,” said Dylan to Keenan, leading him across the dining room.

The backs of the booths were over their heads, giving them a sense of enclosure, privacy from the other diners. A waiter came to their table dropping menus on the table and getting their drink order.

“My treat tonight so, get what you want,” said Dylan.

“What? No, I can pay-“

“It’s late and you’re keeping me company for a nice quiet dinner. If I had gotten one of the guys in my dorm it would have been a burger at the sports bar and having to yell to hear each other.”

“What do you recommend?”

“I like the blacken chicken over pasta, or the chicken piccata, but they say the small steak over mash is good.”

Dylan considered it perfect. Once their food arrived Keenan opened-up about himself. Living in Farmville with an admittance of being an outsider. Dylan didn’t push it, but he circled around why Keenan felt that way. There were stammering replies of not being athletic, avoiding sports and hating gym class, then there were the cliques, none of which he felt a part. Dylan sympathized, admitted he sometimes felt that way despite playing in some sports and fitting in with his classmates. He knew there was no other way but to be the first to admit what made him feel different. It was the only way he was going to find out if there was any possible chance with Keenan.

“You know, there is something I’ve not told you about myself.”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“You promise not to freak out about it?”

“Freak out? Why, are you a serial killer or something?” Keenan smiled and Dylan had to look away.

“Or something. You see…I’m gay.”

“OH.”

“Do you have a problem with it?”

“No.”

Dylan was hoping for more than a short answer. He was hoping for a confession of being the same, but he saw a nervousness, a look away as if afraid of being caught, and he recognized it. He had been that way in high school.

“The guys in my dorm know and I thought you should know since we’re hanging out together.”

“They know, even Matthew and Ryan?”

“Yeah, is that so surprising?”

“No, I guess not.”

“This place is not like home. It is progressive, open to things so many still can’t accept, and it is liberating for me. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t think you can understand it, but I hope it doesn’t bother you.”

Keenan was quiet for too long, but eventually there was the leaning forward, the lowering of his voice and the stare of someone wanting to connect.

“I do understand and wonder what it would be like to be able to just be myself.”

Dylan looked up and smiled.

“Are you gay?”

The question hung between them, Keenan looking like he could flee the table, then he sat back and nodded.

“Yes.”

Dylan opened the door to his room knowing Matthew was out. He went into the dark room, dimly illuminated by the security lighting outside the window. Keenan followed him into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Lock the door,” said Dylan as he went to turn on a lamp.

“Okay, and Dylan.”

“Yes?”

“Leave the light off…okay?”

Dylan pulled his hand away from the lamp and turned to see Keenan standing in the middle of his room. He moved to him, slowly, until he could reach out and touch his cheek.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. Okay?”

Keenan nodded.

Dylan moved to him and saw the eyes close just before he brought their lips together. It was a gentle kiss, simple in its contact, then he kissed with greater passion and Keenan began to kiss back.

Dylan felt the touch. A brush of a hand against his stomach, then the hand moved to his chest pressing against it. It was tentative, unsure what to do, and he reached out and touched Keenan on the chest. He rubbed across it, knowing he raked his hand over both nipples hoping they were sensitive to touch and by the way Keenan moaned he knew they were. He ran his hand downward, over the flat torso until his fingers touch the waistband of the jeans, and he didn’t stop until he was feeling the crotch for the cock. He felt it, still flaccid, and he toyed with it until he felt it thicken, grow longer. It spurred Keenan to act, and Dylan felt a hand move down his chest, over his stomach and down to his own cock. He moaned in Keenan’s mouth as he pushed his hips forward increasing the feel of the fingers toying with him.

Dylan stepped back and began to work the buttons free on Keenan’s shirt. The silvery light made Keenan’s face glow, but the eyes were dark, mysterious, hiding what was within. He meant to discover Keenan’s secrets. The things that aroused him, made him feel his sex; made him sense the pleasures two men could share. The shirt fell open and he pushed it off the shoulders. Keenan held his arms down letting it drop on the floor.

Dylan touched the bare chest, rubbed over the nipples feeling the hard nubs. He leaned over and tongued the right one, then dragged his tongue across the flat chest and tongued the other. He felt a shiver and heard a soft grunt. He nipped at the left one, lightly, just enough to make Keenan push against him. He kissed his way upward, over the small indention at the base of the neck, along the long neck to the right ear. He tugged on the lob then traced its curving form with his tongue. He felt Keenan move away, then push back against his tongue. With Keenan distracted by his oral manipulations, Dylan reached for Keenan’s jeans. He pulled the button free, tugged the zipper down, desperate to get them loose and off. Keenan didn’t try to stop him or slow him down. He pushed them over the ass until they fell freely to Keenan’s feet. White boxers glowed in the dim light, the front tenting outward. He reached for the cock within. He felt its hardening length, toyed with head until Keenan was pumping his hips.

Keenan went to his knees and mouthed the cock through the fabric. He felt the shape of the flared head, then the hard shaft. He moved his lips along its length surprised at its thickness. He held Keenan by the waist and took the head of the cock in his mouth. He sucked, hard, until Keenan was pushing with his hips.

“Dylan,” Keenan whispered.

Dylan heard the desperate need. He knew he was Keenan’s first. The first to give him permission to be himself. To be gay, to feel his sexuality as he responded to the ministrations of another. He slipped his fingers over the waistband of the boxers and worked them down, over the ass and the cock trying to stick straight out. He captured the cock with his mouth as he let the boxers drop freely to Keenan’s feet. He tongued the head, then pushed forward as far as he could. He worked his lips along the thick shaft and over the flared head. He tongued the head, pushed the tip into he slit and circled it before sinking the cock back into his mouth. Then he held the head in his mouth and used his hands to guide Keenan to pump with his hips, to drive the cock into his mouth. To fuck it. Soon, he was gagging as cock slide to the back of his throat and cut off his air. Over and over, that thick cock filled his mouth until he couldn’t breathe. His own cock grew harder. He undid his jeans until able to free it, and he stroked it as Keenan fucked his mouth.

“I’m close,” Keenan uttered and tried to pull out of Dylan’s mouth.

Dylan took Keenan by the waist and encouraged him to keep going. To fuck his mouth until unable to hold back. Keenan began to fuck again. To push cock into his throat. Faster and faster, until suddenly he pulled back, only the head on Dylan’s tongue and he shuddered, then jerked, pushing forward, hard. Dylan felt the cock swell thicker on his tongue, then it flexed against the roof of his mouth, then it flooded his mouth to overflowing with cum. He swallowed and swallowed as some dripped down his chin.

Dylan stood and kissed Keenan, letting him taste his own cum. When he pulled back, Keenan cupped the back of his neck and closed the distance between them again. He thought Keenan meant to kiss him, but he felt Keenan lick his chin capturing the cum dripping from it. Then lips pressed against his own and he tasted the bitter sweetness again.

Keenan hugged his naked body against Dylan. “Thanks Dylan” came a soft whisper.

“We’re not done yet,” Dylan replied pushing Keenan to step back. He tugged his t-shirt off, then worked his jeans down. He didn’t stop until stripped, standing before Keenan naked, hard, and desperate for more.

Dylan went to his knees and sucked the half-hard cock into his mouth. He sucked on it until it was once again hard as rock, filling his mouth until he had to pull back. Then he guided Keenan to his bed. He lay on his back and pulled Keenan to move between his legs.

“I want you to fuck me,” Dylan whispered as he reached between them and took Keenan in hand. He guided the spit slick cock to his hole. “Do it. Do it, Keenan, put it in me.”

Dylan felt the first tentative push, then another. He held the waist and pulled down, encouraging Keenan to breach his tight opening and push that cock inside him. Keenan pushed harder and Dylan threw his head back and moaned as cock stretched him open and penetrated him. Keenan pushed inward, painfully, slowly, and he held the narrow waist as he shivered with the feeling of fullness. Keenan seemed to be deep inside his hole holding still, then Dylan felt Keenan push again, going deeper and deeper and he didn’t know when it would stop, or if he wanted it to stop.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Keenan uttered as he pressed against Dylan’s upturned ass.

“You’re thick…” Dylan uttered, then he raised his head and looked at the dark silhouette hovering over him. “Come on Keenan, fuck me, fuck me until I’m loose.”

Keenan tugged outward, then pushed back in, slowly at first, and Dylan could sense every goddamn inch tugging and pushing through his tight opening. He grabbed at the bed as Keenan finally began to increase his pace. Faster and faster, until moving in a good hard fuck. Keenan pumped cock into Dylan’s depths, his long lean body undulating over him.

Dylan loosened to the thrusting cock, took it easily as it plunged into his depths. He reached up and pinched Keenan’s nipples causing him to shove into his depths with a roughness that excited him. Over and over, he pinched down and took the hammering cock. Keenan began to breath hard and sweat rained down on Dylan.

“Keenan, let me on top. I’ll ride you,” Dylan uttered as he used his hands on Keenan’s waist to bring him to a stop.

They shifted positions, Keenan on his back with Dylan straddling his waist. Dylan didn’t waste a second in sitting on Keenan’s cock. He lowered himself down until fully seated, savoring the fullness of the penetration. Then he began to move on it. Up, then down, over and over, until fucking his ass on the thick cock. He felt a hand on his thigh, moving up until it roughly stroked his own cock. The hand moved slickly along his shaft and he knew his cock was drooling with his arousal. Leaning forward, he moved his ass faster and faster, feeling the thick cock piston in his hole while the hand stayed on his cock, pushing him closer and closer.

“Fuck…Keenan…” Dylan uttered as he sat up, then leaned back resting on his hands. He pumped his ass up and down with a brutal pace. Looking down his glistening wet chest and stomach, he watched his cock move through Keenan’s fist. It spurred him to keep moving, to work his ass up and down, until the surge of release made him cry out.

Cum spurt from Dylan’s cock, thick wads shooting upward then raining down on his chest and stomach. Each ejaculation made him shudder and struggle to keep moving on Keenan’s cock, but he kept pushing until he felt Keenan pushing upward. The fist around his cock tightened and Keenan cried out, shoved upward, and shuddered with release. The thick cock in his hole flexed with each ejaculation as he kept moving his ass up and down.

Then Keenan was begging him to stop.

Laying in a heap of heaving sweating bodies they remained silent for a long time. Their breathing finally settled to a normal rate and their hearts no longer were racing in their chest. Dylan moved to lay next to Keenan as he felt cum trickle down his thigh and down his chest and stomach with the smell of it filling the room. He kissed Keenan, then whispered into the right ear.

“Thanks for coming home with me. Will you stay with me tonight?”

There was a silence that seemed to drag on forever, but then a soft whispered reply.

“Yes.”

“Let’s shower and turn in,” said Dylan, climbing to his feet and holding out a hand to help him up.

Keenan jerked awake. Dylan lay next to him dead to the world breathing heavily. Something woke him, and he lay quiet listening. A voice in the corridor, then a key in the lock, and the door swung open. He saw Matthew come into the room, and he lay silent not sure if he should pretend to be asleep or if it was time for him to go back to his dorm.

Matthew crossed the room and went to his desk turning on a lamp. He turned and saw Dylan, then Keenan, then he saw Keenan was looking back at him.

“Oh, hey, I see you guys had fun.”

“Yeah,” Keenan whispered, thinking Matthew was talking far too loud.

“You know this idiot has been wanting you since he saw you on campus.”

“What?!”

“Yep,” Matthew replied, and Keenan realized he was slightly drunk. “Did you know he saw you last spring back in Hicksville?”

“Farmville,” said Keenan, never liking the derogatory reference.

“Whatever,” Matthew giggled, then he moved closer to their bed. “You have to promise to treat him right…okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Well, I need a shower.”

Matthew picked up a toiletry case and pulled clean boxers from a plastic drawer, then he headed to the bathroom. At the door he stopped and looked back.

“And Keenan, you don’t have to leave because I’m back. Get some sleep and if you guys want, let’s have breakfast in the morning.”

“Okay,” Keenan replied, and he saw Matthew nod once, then go into the bathroom.

So, this is what it should be like, Keenan thought.

Dylan stirred, pulled Keenan closer.

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” Dylan uttered without opening his eyes.

It was a Saturday evening in Farmville, and the town was settling into a quiet night, except at the fast-food joints and the parking lot of the shopping center where high schoolers were cruising around and hanging out.

Inside one fast-food restaurant, Keenan came to the table carrying a tray where Dylan waited. Dylan set his cellphone down and took his drink, then his sandwich. Keenan sat opposite of him, and they smiled at each other. A knowing smile that spoke volumes to anyone paying attention. But no one noticed.

“Do you think your parents are going to be okay?” asked Dylan.

“What about your parents? Do they like me?”

“Of course, they like you. You saw how mom kept including you.”

“I think dad will come around faster than mom.”

“Really? I think she will adjust faster.”

“At least they didn’t freak out,” Keenan whispered as he opened his sandwich. He looked up, smiling mischievously, watching Dylan stuff his mouth with fries.

“Keenan? You’re home from college?”

Keenan and Dylan looked up at the same time. Dylan recognized the girl, one from last spring. The guy with her was new, someone different from before.

“Hey, Samantha, and Greg?” said Keenan.

“Hey, Keenan,” Greg replied, and he looked at Dylan. “I’ve seen you around.”

“I’m Dylan. I’m from south of town. Out in the sticks,” Dylan joked.

“So, are at the university too?” asked Samantha.

“Yep,” Dylan replied.

“Must be fun, to be at the university,” said Samantha, looking at Keenan.

“Yeah, it’s great. I feel like I can really be myself,” Keenan replied.

“What do you mean by that? You could be yourself here,” said Samantha.

“Really? You think so?”

“---”

“Samantha, what if I told you Dylan is my boyfriend. We’re dating, have been for over a month. We came home this weekend to tell my parents I’m gay and to meet his parents.”

“No, seriously,” Samantha replied, and Keenan and Dylan could see the surprise on her face. Greg smiled, shaking his head. Samantha looked around at Greg who shrugged, then she turned back to Keenan. “This is why you never…this explains a lot.

“Are you happy, I mean, you look happy and…” Samantha asked after a short awkward silence.

“I’m happy, Samantha.”

“I’m glad,” Samantha replied, then she took Greg by the hand and stepped back, “we’re just grabbing some sodas and heading over to the parking lot to hang out. It’s good to see you, and…Keenan?”

“Yes, Sam.”

“I’m glad to see you, and meet your boyfriend,” Samantha replied, smiling.