Queer Tension
[Memory, Junior Year, November]
The weather was getting colder and colder, Lyn thought as he pulled his coat tighter around himself. His mom’s affairs with the widower were going quite well, which had landed him a new coat, one that fit a lot better and also looked up to snuff. Even when wearing hand-me-downs, the Calloways had to look like they were breathing the rarified air of the rich and bored.
A smile crept to his lips. That was something Brad would say. Lyn’s best friend was of the belief that people like Lyn and Alexander needed to learn how to have fun because they were incorrectly taught to ditch everything remotely entertaining in life for the sake of looking fashionably jaded.
There was only so much beer he could stomach while hanging out with Brad. Hence the reason his bestie thought Lyn was a lightweight, which was far from being the truth. He was just better with hard liquors.
The sound of laughter reached his ears, as he moved quickly through the quad. He cringed while trying to pay no attention to the annoying noise. The college had imported two meatheads from who knew where, and they behaved like brats. For reasons Lyn couldn’t fathom, they seemed to take great delight in putting on a performance whenever they happened to be in his proximity. As far as he could tell, they did the same only when the most attractive female students were involved. What Lyn had in common with that crowd, he had no idea.
Right now, they were pushing each other, neighing like horses and causing a ruckus loud enough to attract everyone’s attention within a one-mile radius.
At first, Lyn had thought he was being stupid or crazy to think that the two jocks were even aware of his existence. But after one too many times finding himself making eye contact with the shorter of the two – a shameless confident stare that most likely promised violence – Lyn was beginning to feel a tad paranoid.
What the hell was their deal? They were tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and always up to no good. And they were so similar with their blond hair, blue eyes and all-American boy looks that people easily mistook them for brothers. According to the local rumor mill, no, they weren’t siblings, but they were joined at the hip and did everything together.
They were an instant hit, of course. Who didn’t like a walking stereotype? Lyn thought, clenching his fists in the pockets of his coat and hastening his steps.
“Hey,” one of them called, loud enough to make Lyn understand that he was the target. Although the other few students milling about the quad at that evening hour showed interest, it was evident that the jock in question had someone specific in mind for his – whatever those were – purposes. “You, cute guy.”
Cute guy. Lyn shook his head. He could tell that the two troublemakers were following him, which only made the situation unbearable. If he happened to be with Brad or Alexander, they resumed their act at pushing each other and guffawing like schoolkids, but when Lyn was alone, they were like beasts sniffing after their prey.
Lyn stopped abruptly. It was ridiculous to run. He turned and faced his would-be opponents, his hands still in his pockets. “Are you talking to me?”
The shorter of the two gasped for show and patted his friend on the chest. “Senpai noticed me.”
“Speak,” Lyn ordered. “And you’re juniors, the same as I am. I’m not your senpai.”
A wide grin spread on the jock’s face. “I know your name is Lyn. Cute name, just like you. I’m Quinn, and this is Joe.”
“Queen?” Lyn mispronounced the jock’s name on purpose. “You boys think you can mess with me, don’t you?”
What was that rule governing wildlife? Some animals developed special skills to project danger and force they didn’t possess to disabuse their predators of the notion that they qualified as prey. Lyn hoped his ruse would hold.
His efforts to keep a cool face and a stern tone fell flat. Quinn – was that really his name? – found them funny, because he was laughing out loud now.
“I’d love to mess with you,” Quinn drawled, moving closer.
Lyn rolled his eyes and pretended to barely keep in a yawn. “This isn’t high school. Quit while you’re ahead. It’s good advice. I promise it will take you far in life.”
The jock was now so close, Lyn had to tip his head slightly back to maintain eye contact. This asshole wouldn’t go as far as to rough him up out in the open, would he? Well, he didn’t plan to go down without a fight. All he needed to start ‘pumping iron’ as Brad kept pestering him to do was the proper motivation.
He didn’t flinch as Quinn leaned over to whisper in his ear. “We made a bet, me and my buddy. He says you’re batting for both teams, but I don’t think so. I think that, underneath your preppy clothes, you’re a party boy. The kind that goes hard.”
Lyn scoffed, as his hands turned clammy. “Your euphemisms are so obscure, they would confuse the most dedicated linguists.”
He could feel Quinn’s warm breath on his cheek now. “Fuck, you’re such a nerd. But it’s okay. You’re just my type.”
It took Lyn all his power of will to turn his head and stare the jock in the eye. “You must be delusional. I’m no one’s type.”
Quinn blinked in confusion. Then he seemed to have processed Lyn’s words to his satisfaction. “Who told you that? Tell me who hurt you, baby, and I’ll set that asshole straight.”
Lyn shook his head in bored disbelief and was about to turn, when Quinn caught his arm. The tension thrummed inside him, turning him into a spring stretched to the max.
“Come on, dude. I’m trying to confess here.”
Lyn tried to shake his arm free, but there was no need. Quinn let go and disappeared from his field of view so quickly he looked like a cartoon character swatted by a freight train, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
The name of the freight train was Brad, who was holding Quinn by the front of his varsity jacket and pushing him away as if he wanted to throw him out of the campus.
“Hey, dude, chill,” Joe intervened, trying to pull Brad away, with little success.
Quinn wasn’t fighting Brad, which seemed odd to Lyn, who hurried to defuse the situation. He should’ve just continued his walk instead of provoking the two jocks.
“What?” Quinn challenged Brad. He didn’t look smart, that one. “Did I just hit on your girlfriend or something?”
“Brad,” Lyn said in a low voice, grabbing one of Brad’s arms.
His friend didn’t budge. He seemed forged out of steel right now. On occasion, lately, he seemed to be falling prey to angry fits, but they usually were triggered by inanimate objects getting on his nerves, not people.
“Girlfriend?” Brad laughed, but it came out a harsh sound that made Lyn’s hair stand on end. “My girlfriend’s not nice like my pal here. She’d beat your ass in a second and then sit on your face and you’d love it.”
Quinn appeared to continue to be incapable of reading the room. “She sounds like a riot. Okay, then. Are you the dad? Excuse me, sir, can I date the apple of your eye?”
Brad shook the guy so hard Quinn’s head snapped back and forth.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Joe said, pulling Brad away from his friend. “Quinn, chill. The guy’s not interested. Just drop it.”
Finally, Quinn’s smile faded for good. He brushed by Brad’s shoulder in an effort to save face.
“Don’t ever go near my friend again,” Brad warned him. “And rest fucking assured. If he were gay, he’d have better taste than your ugly ass face.”
“Like you?” Quinn challenged Brad.
Brad smirked. “Yeah. Too bad he’s so straight he thinks queer tension is the name of a band.”
Lyn hid his face to cover his smile. It was so like Brad to drop a joke even under the direst circumstances – even when he was the one who had created the aforementioned circumstances.
Quinn snickered. “Fine, whatever. Let’s go, Joe. There’s plenty of fish in the sea.”
“Hello, we’re on land,” Brad called after the two jocks, gesturing at their retreating backs as if he was still in the mood to get into a fight. The others, to Lyn’s relief, didn’t react.
“Brad, you’re so nuts,” Lyn scolded his friend affectionately, wrapping his arm around him. Whatever tension had been there before had already evaporated.
And Brad had the same goofy smile on his face as always. “Did I scare those guys or what?”
“You managed to scare me, let alone them,” Lyn replied. “I mean, there were two of them.”
“And we were two, as well,” Brad pointed out.
“Oh, you’re counting me? You’re such a funny guy. Anyway, thanks. I mean, it was my mistake to stop and talk to them when I should’ve known better.”
“So, how does it feel to be confessed to?” Brad nudged Lyn playfully as they walked away.
“Was that what that was? They were just trying to make fun of me.”
Brad gave him a look and seemed about to say something. Then his face relaxed into a smile. “No one makes fun of my best friend.”
“It looks like it. One of these days, you’ll get a cool nickname. Like Hurricane.”
“I like it. But who’s going to give it to me?”
“I will. And I’ll make sure that it spreads organically.” Lyn laughed, comfortable as he usually was when Brad walked by his side. “It’s for selfish reasons, of course. Everyone will know that I have a pit-bull as my personal bodyguard.”
“Pit-bull, huh? Yeah.” Brad guffawed, pleased with himself. “Just for the record, though. I didn’t interrupt something you wanted to happen, did I?”
Lyn snorted in disbelief. “Do you think I want random people to mess with me? No way.”
“Okay, cool. Just checking,” Brad said. “Hey, what do you say we distract His Majesty from his deep studies and hang out?”
“I wouldn’t dare do that,” Lyn replied. “He’s neck deep in things we, mere mortals, can’t even begin to understand. The road ahead of him is long.” He wanted to hang out with Brad alone, if possible. On the other hand, he knew Alexander had a lot on his plate and would feel obliged to honor Brad’s invitation, no matter how much he had to study.
“Yeah. I heard what he wants is like the hardest stuff. Brain doctor and all that.”
“Surgeon,” Lyn felt the need to add. “It’s like him to pursue next to impossible things, including a high-pressure career path.”
“Then it’s just going to be just the two of us. And don’t pay those assholes any attention. I’m sure they’re not going to pick on you again.”
“You scared them all right,” Lyn agreed, although the two jocks hadn’t seemed overly impressed, in his opinion. “I should treat you this time. My bodyguard needs his nourishment.”
“He sure does,” Brad agreed. “But don’t drag me to one of those posh places where people eat snails. I might puke in French.”
“I was only talking about takeout,” Lyn protested.
“Don’t worry, my guy. I got you covered.”
He had indeed, because he threw one arm around Lyn and held him like that as if Brad truly thought of himself as a shield between Lyn and the world.
TBC
Thank you for reading!
@Derek - I told you that Brad would still surprise you... I know how it feels now for Lyn and Alexander to take the extra step, but the story is titled the way it is for a reason...
@Buchanan - you're welcome!
@Bjc Johan - oh, Luke really wanted to do that...
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
