Senior Year: The Masculine Type

It was a typical Tuesday morning at my high school. It was only 2nd period calculus and my brain was already fried. As my teacher continued to go on about his love for derivatives, I thought of other things. At first, it was little things like my weekend plans or projects coming up, but all of that dropped as soon as he walked into the room.

Of course, the “he” I was referring to was Nick. He was a fellow senior and always came into Calc class 15 minutes late with a coffee held in his firm grip. The teacher just shook his head as Nick sat down three seats in front of me. He was the most gorgeous human being on earth. A football player, of course, he stood a little over 6 feet and had enough muscle that his shirts always seemed to be begging to rip free. I wanted to fuck him so bad, but I would even take being able to just rub my hands on his bare body. His physique was a living work of art.

I remember last year when I went into the locker room for my first day of gym class. I always sat in the back to avoid the straight assholes that changed in the center. To my surprise, Nick did not change in the center as he had done in previous years. Rather, he chose a spot on the bench that was directly in my line of sight. Every day that term, I stared at him intently as he pulled his tight muscle shirts over his beefy frame. Day after day, I would relish in that bliss period of 3 or 4 seconds when his face was completely covered in his shirt. Then, I could stare at that chest with full force without any fear of judgment.

Those were the moments when I first realized how beautiful his body was. Those thick beefy pecs that always glistened with sweat after an intense game of basketball. And his bulging biceps that caressed his face as he wiped the sweat from his brow; revealing thick patches of black hair that sprouted from his arm pits. I would give nothing more than to bury my face in them.

As the year had progressed, he seemed to take longer and longer to take his clothes off; giving me more and more time to look without fear of him seeing. At one point, I felt he was showing off his body, bending his plump ass toward me or rubbing his chest for a long time before putting his shirt back on. It was like he knew how bad I wanted his body, and he got pleasure in teasing me with that desire.

This year, however, we did not have gym together so I only ever saw him in Calc, which meant he was always fully clothed. As my teacher went on about this lesson that everyone had checked out of already, I stared at the back of Nick’s head for several minutes, imagining myself rubbing my hands up his back on down his meaty chest. I sometimes wished he would just have sex with me voluntarily, but I tried to cut those thoughts as short as possible for I knew it would never happen. He is the straightest guy on the planet. And even if he was an extremely masculine gay man, he would not want anything to do with me. I was a little over 5’5 and slightly muscular. But I was in no way as defined as Nick or any of the other male athletes were. I was just a short beefy boy that no guy would give the time of day.

“I feel like none of you are paying attention to me.”

No one responded to the teacher.

“Well I’m glad you all find my lessons so boring. That way we can skip right to the quiz.”

Loud sighs began to echo in the room.

“But, I will assign each of you a partner to make the task slightly less daunting.”

Considering the fact that I hadn’t been paying attention for the last week, I was banking on being paired with a smart person. But, as usual, the smart kids were all paired together by the teacher.

“Ok, how about Nick and.... Max?” I almost passed out. I felt paralyzed as Nick stood up and began to shift his thick body in my direction. I smiled as I stared at his handsome face. He had just gotten new glasses which had made him all the more attractive. They were the big black ones that had a geeky vibe to them. They took away from his rigid masculine exterior, which is why I liked them so much.

Slowly, he sat down in the desk next to me and began sliding it toward me so that we could have one level work space. My body went numb as his arm brushed up against mine.

“Hi Max.” Nick looked up at me with his big brown eyes. His voice was smoother than the thickest syrup, and it made me melt further into my chair. I choked out a greeting and immediately began working on the quiz. I didn’t know how I was going to get through it. We didn’t talk aside from comparing an answer here or there.

After spending several vigorous minutes working on a difficult problem, I noticed in the corner of my eye that Nick’s pencil had stopped moving. Tilting my head just slightly, I froze when I realized that he was staring at me.

“What is it?” I whispered in a sort of panic.

With a sultry giggle, he picked up his pencil. “Nothing. It’s just, your cute when you’re thinking hard.” He looked back down at his paper.

I sat there in complete shock.