Dream Boy

Luke is at his desk, only the lamp on illuminating the textbook before him. He swivels around and heads to the corridor. With the door open he can hear the normal sounds of life in the dorm. Music, video gaming and movies in progress. There are voices, some sounding excited, yelling out, others so low as to be a white noise. Indistinguishable utterances. He steps into the corridor and no one else is in it. Just light spilling out from open doors. He looks to his left, toward the elevators, then back to his right and begins to walk in that direction.

Twelve doors down, on the right, is room 439, this destination. He has put it off far too long. For weeks he has thought of going to that room, pulling the door closed behind him as he entered, and facing its occupant. The guy who is slightly taller than his five foot ten, just as muscular in his own way, although in a leaner build. He pictures him as he walks slowly to the door. How light reflects red from his reddish-brown hair, which is thick and wavy, and always in need of combing. The light freckles across the cheeks. The thin arched eyebrows over green eyes. Green eyes that are vivid, lustrous, like an emerald. The perfect teeth exposed when he smiles, and the dimples framing them. And the way he tilts his head back and to one side when he laughs aloud.

Cory. That is his name, and Luke utters it aloud as he passes another door.

A paper plane sails from left to right, from an open door into the one opposite. As Luke walks past, he looks left and sees the guys huddled around a television in the middle of a video game. He does not look right.

Passing two more doors, then two more, then two more, Luke remembers the subtle comments, the linger stares, the opportunities provided by Cory. Missed opportunities. Times he should have been brave, spoken up, let Cory know how he feels.

Room 439, and the door is pushed to but not latched. Light cuts through the gap, putting a line across the corridor floor. Luke breaks it, and knocks.

“Come in,” Cory calls out from within, and Luke feels excited to hear the husky voice. It sounds of smoky jazz bars and actresses of the black and white movie era, smoking cigarettes one after the next, the smoke curling around their long fingers as they defy norms.

Luke is here to defy norms.

“Hey, what’s up?” Cory asked, spinning around to face him.

Cory is down to his boxers and Luke surveys the muscular body again. He sees the bulging biceps, the well-defined pecs with their nipples riding high with the center hard, sticking out. He sees the abs, their undulating form that disappears into the blue boxers. And he sees the unmistakable bulge.

“I was wondering,” Luke begins, hesitating, unsure of himself. What if he is wrong? What if Cory is straight and he only imagined the signals, misread all the little gestures? What if he saw what he wanted to see and failed to see the aspects that would say otherwise? “Please don’t freak out. I could be wrong, and if so, I promise to leave you alone, but…”

“Come on, Luke. Ask me.”

“Would you like to go out with me? Dinner or something?”

“Like a date?” Cory asked, looking up with a serious expression.

“Yeah, like a date.”

Cory stares at Luke, face unreadable for what seems like an enormously long time. Then he grins, nodding his head.

“Yes. I was wondering if you were…you know…willing to go out,” Cory replies, leaning back in the chair. It stretches his body out before Luke who feels a strong desire to touch it. He knows the possibility now exist, and he smiles at Cory.

“I’m finished with my assignments. You want to go this evening? I could come down around seven and we could go to that Italian place on Hill Street.”

“That sounds good; I’ve only been once, but I did enjoy it,” Cory replies.

“I’ll see you at seven.”

The restaurant is not high ceilinged with a slick décor. It is very traditional, with low ceilings and a dining area divided up into small rooms. They are seated in the Greenhouse, the dining area that faces the courtyard that runs along the side of the building. The room has glass walls and roof, and at night it seems to be a part of the courtyard with its low-level lighting and the tables inside illuminated by a single candle. The table clothes are red and white checkerboard, the napkins are cloth, and the wait staff are dressed in black with white shirts.

Luke sits opposite Cory at a small two-top table, both dressed in white shirts and jeans. They look like a couple who have been together for a long time, not two guys on a first date. They whisper to each other, giggle or laugh, and lightly clink wine glasses.

Luke and Cory are alone in a dorm room. The door is closed and locked. They kiss. Touch each other. They feel what their eyes have looked upon before. Smooth skin, firm to the touch with the muscle beneath. The soft circle of a nipple; undulating stomach as the rate of breathing increases; the pulsing beat of blood coursing through veins. They feel alive, and with every touch more tangible than before.

Luke is nervous. He feels anxious, this his first time with another guy. But his desire and urges are overpowering. They let him push past his fears. He takes Cory by the hand and leads him to the bed. He lays back, guiding Cory to move on top. He feels the weight of him, the heat of his body against his own. It’s alive with breath and pulse and a charge that he can feel. Cory kisses him and he feels the softness of each, then the wet slickness of the mouth, the smooth surface of teeth, then the play of tongues.

Luke slides a hand down Cory’s back, over a round ass cheek, then around to the side where he slips it between them. Fingertips touch it, the hard cock, and he rakes them along its length. He slips fingers around it, feeling its girth within his grasp, then he works his hand along the length until the head is in his palm. He squeezes. He moves his hand. Cory moans into his mouth and shudders.

“Put it in me,” Luke utters, and he thinks of the old fear he once possessed, of this penetration, and he remembers the first time he fingered himself and how it made his orgasm more intense. He wants to feel that intensity again. The pleasure of it. He guides Cory to his opening and feels his tight resistance. He wants what his body is not sure of, and he whispers in Cory’s ear.

“Fuck me.”

Head thrown back, Luke stretches open for Cory, feels every inch penetrate his hole. He shivers with the initial pain, then clings to him as cock begins to piston inside his hole. The slow push inward, then the tug outward, he feels every inch move through his tightness. He releases Cory and watches him push up on hands and begin to fuck harder. He looks down and sees the thick cock being pumped inside him. With arms spread out, he clutches at the bed as Cory hammers his insides. Each push inward seems to touch something inside him. He moans and grunts, body undulating with every plunge of cock into his depths.

Arms come underneath each leg behind the knee and Luke folds in half, ass turned up and he watches Cory plunge back into his depths, all the way, hips smacking against ass. He stretches his arms overhead, pushing against the headboard. He stretches out and he sees Cory’s eyes look at him. Up and down his exposed body. It increases his arousal.

“Fuck me…harder,” Luke utters, and Cory moves down pushing his thighs against his chest. He is pinned to the bed, as cock hammers his insides. He feels every thrust, each deep penetration. Then he feels an emptiness.

“Sit on my cock,” Cory utters falling over next to Luke on his back. He holds up his cock, the thick shaft shiny wet, then strokes it. Luke watches the fist, as it moves up and down every inch.

Luke moves over Cory and eases down until the flared head breaches his opening. He keeps easing down until seated on it. He feels complete again, this connection between them. Hard thick cock buried inside his hole, locking their bodies together. He moves on it, up, then down, slowly at first, letting Cory watch his cock come into view, then disappear.

After a few minutes, unable to control himself, Luke leans back on his hands and works his hips faster. He sees the stare at his ass, knowing Cory is watching. The exertion of his body as he works his ass up and down. It does not take long, for he is far too aroused and he begins to masturbate while working his ass up and down. He needs to feel it. The hardness of his own arousal. He strokes to his rhythm, fast, furiously slamming his fist down to the base as his ass smacks down on Cory’s abdomen. Over and over, the bed rocking beneath them, until he comes. Thick wads erupt from his cock, hitting him in the face, the neck and a thick wad ropes up the middle of his chest. He shudders with his release, then feels hands grip his thighs as cock is thrust upward into his depths.

“OH FUCK,” Cory cries out, and Luke feels the cock flex inside him.

The date leads to more dates, then a relationship. They admit to some of the guys they are boyfriends. When going into town, they walk side by side, bumping shoulders and touching hands, and hold hands under bar or restaurant tables as they hang out with them.

Spring break finds them at a beach with a few of the guys. They watch the guys flirt with girls at the beach. There is flexing of biceps and sly smiles meant to lure them to the hotel room. They stay in the room when the guys head to the beach and fuck. They hang out at bars with the guys, then sneak off to some concealed place and suck each other off, giggling like mischievous boys at their antics. At night, when the guys go to a club or another bar, they stroll down the beach for a mile or longer, and fuck on the wet sand with waves lapping around the naked bodies.

The semester resumes and so does their life in the dorm. Lazy afternoons when it storms outside. Late nights that seem to last forever, until bodies are sweaty with muscles burning from their exertions. Early mornings after waking in each other’s arms. The sex does not end, for it never seems enough.

Summer and they are to be separated for weeks. The only respite to this separation, ten days in the mountains at a cabin Luke’s grandparents own. It is primitive, with a wood stove and exposed roof framing that allows the sound of rain on the tin roof to be overwhelming at times. They fuck in the old queen bed, on the screen porch, and down at the stream, Luke on his hands and knees in the cold water as Cory thrust into his depths. They use the hammock like a sling, Luke laying sideways in it, and Cory swinging him back and forth, impaling ass on thick cock.

Another year, and a deepening of their relationship. It continues through the year, the next summer, a trip overseas, the two of them backpacking from one small village to the next, then fucking late into the night. Eventually the senior year comes to an end, and they graduate. They move to Atlanta, set up an apartment and pursue their careers while their relationship matures. They travel. They visit family. They take part in protests and festivals for pride.

Someone yells, the voice echoing in the dark. Luke stirs, fumbles for his cellphone, confused about the time. Is it night or day, and what year? He sits up in the dark, flips on his lamp and sees his roommate is still not back from a late night in his studio. He looks around the dimly lit room, a moment of confusion still lingers, then he remembers the dream. The fantasy that was so embedded in his mind it bloomed into a dream that seemed far too real. Cory was down the hall, no doubt still studying. It was only six in the evening. Luke considered the dream, the way it played out in a way he so desperately wanted to be real. To be a truth. He had been thinking about Cory for four weeks, ever since the semester started and he first laid eyes on him. It was becoming an obsession, but the unknown aspects scared him. Was Cory gay? Would he be receptive to any advances Luke tried to will himself to do? There had been hints, looks casual and flustered, and stammered replies to his questions that sought some understanding of him. But it was all superficial, periphery aspects that circled the core characteristics.

Luke stood from his desk, washed his face, then stared in the mirror. He saw the person who had sworn college would be different from high school. That he would not be as introverted, shy about speaking up first, taking the initiative if that were necessary. A deep breath and he built up his courage. With keys in hand, he walks out into the corridor and toward Room 439.