Educating Alex

INTRO

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Well, as a reward for waiting forever for Part 2, here finally is Part 3. I hope you enjoy it too, it's a tad less linear than the last two, but I think it still works. If you haven't yet, have a look at my website http://www.ardveche.com where you can find all my stories in (I think) a nicer layout. Most of them can also be found under Ardveche at both www.eroticstories.com and in the prolific authors' section of www.nifty.org.

DISCLAIMER

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This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2001 - www.ardveche.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between adult males:

• if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.

Now, if everyone who is still here is meant to be here or at least aware they shouldn't be, let's get on with it. All comments are welcome and gratefully received (email them to ardveche@ardveche.com).

EDUCATING ALEX III

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Alex was nursing a cold. Like so many big, strong men I know, this most common of ailments had rendered him as helpless as a child. He had been moping around the house for days, skipping classes since the Monday after our 'date', bundled in sweat pants and T-shirt with thick socks on and a blanket wrapped round his shoulders. When I got back from class he was cross-legged in front of the TV amid a drift of used tissues; a pathetic sight, but still a sight for sore eyes.

"Hey, handsome," I said tousling his untidy hair, he had obviously not been out of bed for long. Even unshaven, bleary-eyed and slightly grubby looking as he was, he was still beautiful, to me at least. He batted my hand away weakly, like a kitten with a ball of yarn. "How was your day?" He shrugged by way of an answer without turning round.

"Hey. How was yours?" He flicked off the TV (cartoons, of course!) and turned slightly so he could see me, his voice made thick by the congestion of his sinuses, his southern accent more pronounced than usual.

"It sucked," I replied, dumping my books on the table.

"How did it suck?" He asked and I decided to ignore him.

"You need anything? I'm gonna make some coffee."

"Smooth. So? How did it suck?"

"It just did. And anyway, I asked you first."

"Is there any soup left?" He said softly, almost apologetically, those big dopey brown eyes looking up at my face. There was soup left as it happened, but even if there hadn't been, I'd have seen to it that Alex got some soup! How could I not?

"Yup. I'll get it, you just stay there." I held my hand up as though to ward him off, although he had made no attempt to move. He smiled at my attempt at humor. I grinned back at him and wandered through to the kitchen to heat up some of the soup I had made for him the day before. Annoying as he could be, I was feeling vaguely paternal and rather enjoyed looking after him. Alex shuffled into the kitchen after a few minutes and came up behind me, putting his hands on my waist and his forehead on my shoulder. Trademark Alex.

"Missed you. Thought about you all day." He mumbled to my shoulder.

"Is that what all those tissues were for?" I joked. I was trying hard to keep my mind on the task in hand, the soup, and ignore the sensations that his touch was producing.

"Nope. I saved that for you." He retorted. I didn't turn round, but I could picture the evil grin he'd have on his lips all too easily.

"Oh, God! Straight boys are SO gross!" I laughed.

"But you love me anyway."

"Don't flatter yourself, Billy!" I had to make a joke, and deliberately employed my nickname for him (short for hillbilly) because I knew it annoyed him. I had no idea what to say to Alex whenever the 'Big L' came up. He always sounded as though he was joking, but there was an undercurrent. I was damned if I was going to be the first to say it though, not while he was doing his straight and confused routine. It would make me look too needy.

"Hey! Be nice, I'm sick."

"We've already established that, a sick puppy." I turned off the gas and gave the soup one more quick stir. Quickly changing the subject before the canine question could resurface. "Get a bowl." His hands left my waist and he shuffled off to get a bowl and a spoon which he placed on the counter next to me.

"Would you carry it through for me?" I looked round, a retort about what his last slave died of forming but I was stopped short by the pleading look on his face. "I can't keep it steady and hold on to the blanket. I can manage the spoon though." He explained, holding it up triumphantly and smiling at me. I sighed theatrically and did as he asked, then I went back to the kitchen to make my coffee. When I returned, he was nearly finished eating, so his appetite must have been returning. That had to be a good sign, he'd been off food at the weekend and only really picked at it since.

"Anything else? Or can I sit down?" I tried to be acerbic.

"Maybe just a glass of OJ?" Again I was about to snap at him, but he must have seen my expression and thought better of his joke, he held his hands up in a placatory gesture. "Sorry! It's here, I got it earlier." He produced the carton from the floor beside the couch and I could only smile ruefully and shake my head at him.

"What am I going to do with you?" I asked rhetorically; but he answered me anyway, with a raised eyebrow and a grin which made me laugh aloud. There was something very amusing about a man looking quite as seedy as he did trying to be alluring.

"What? What's so funny?" He nearly whined.

"So what did you do all day?" I decided to change the subject.

"Slept mostly. Watched some TV, I tried to read but I couldn't focus, and it hurt my head." He shrugged and huddled down further into his blanket. "That's about it." I barely managed to bite back a retort about his choice of reading material, low grade pulp that would hurt any intelligent person's head.

"You poor thing." I got the feeling there was something I wasn't being told, but past experience told me Alex would talk when ready and not before.

"I get no sympathy."

"Sympathy? It's not the Black Death, Alex!"

"But I feel awful."

"You look awful!"

"See? No sympathy." He sighed heavily. Okay, so maybe he had a point and I could be a little bit more sympathetic, but it was only a cold! Take some aspirin and hot drinks. Get over it! Right? Right?

"Okay." I conceded. "How about a back rub? Would that make you feel any better?" He gave me his most brilliant smile, the one he reserved for when he was getting things entirely his own way! I dragged myself to my feet and went to sit behind him on the couch, my legs either side of him, pushing the blanket aside and helping him out of his T-shirt as he shifted to allow me to get more comfortable. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his broad shoulders which I dried with his shirt before I started to knead at the sore muscles. He let his breath out and sagged as I worked my fingers across his back and shoulders, easing the tension.

"Mm. Great hands. Great head. You could make a fortune, Ryan." He muttered, and I slapped his bare shoulder to punish him, making him yelp satisfyingly. "Ouch."

"You deserved it."

"I was going to say; 'you could made a fortune, if you weren't all mine'." There was that possessiveness again, but not backed up by a commitment. I decided to ignore him.

"No talking." I chided as I continued the massage for a while, until eventually he reached back and pulled both my arms round his waist, leaning into me with a soft, contented sound as he did so. Sick or healthy, it always felt so good to hold him, and now his head was on my shoulder again I kissed his stubbly cheek gently. He sniffled once and settled back against my chest with his eyes closed and a small, happy smile on his lips. I reached for the blanket and pulled it over the two of us.

"Can we stay like this for a while?" He asked shyly. It never ceased to amaze me that after weeks of real intimacy, he could still be so unsure in these situations. As though having sex with a guy was one thing, but demonstrating affection another entirely. Which, I guess to him it was. I think it was partly his innocence that made me care about him as much as I did.

"Of course we can." We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Ryan? Can I ask you to do something?"

"I'm sure you can." This was a favorite jibe of mine, and he really ought to have known better after all these weeks.

"Okay, pedant. 'May' I ask you?"

"Depends what it is." I replied with a laugh, though in truth there were precious few things I wouldn't have been willing to do for him.

"It's pretty dumb, forget it."

"Tell me." I insisted, there was a long pause.

"I was wondering if, maybe, you'd read to me?" I looked at him for a moment and then, after a struggle not to, I laughed. "I told you it was dumb." He sounded so miserable that I stopped laughing.

"It's not dumb. But why?"

"Because it hurts my eyes."

"Oh, yeah. You said."

"And because I like listening to your voice."

"Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?" How can I refuse you anything? I almost added, but didn't. I disentangled one of my arms and reached for his book which was lying on the coffee table. "Pass me my glasses, would you?"

He leant forward with some effort and snagged the leg of my glasses, pulling them towards himself and off the pile of books where I had dumped them. Handing them to me with a gentle half-smile he snuggled back against me, adjusting both the blanket and my arms to his satisfaction.

"You should wear them more often." He informed me.

"Oh?"

"They make you look smart."

"Gee, thanks!" I laughed at this faintly insulting but intended compliment.

"You know what I mean. Smarter. Real Smart. And sexy. I mean, you are both already, but you really 'look' it with your glasses on." He was babbling now, and I was enjoying watching him squirm. He stopped abruptly, sat forward, took a few deep indrawn breaths and sneezed loudly. "Ohh, God." He groaned quietly and snuffled some more.

"Okay, you, shut up."

"'kay." Was the mumbled response.

"Sitting comfortably?" I asked as he again nuzzled against me like a kitten.

"Yes, mommy."

"Good, then I'll begin." I slid my glasses on and looked at the spine of the slender volume for the first time, I was faintly surprised to see that it wasn't the usual pulp that seemed to be all he read. It was 'Of Mice and Men' (which was oddly appropriate), my copy as it happened, I opened the book to the scrap of TV Guide he was using as a bookmark and feeling more than a little self-conscious I started to read aloud. "The bunk house was a long, rectangular building..."

Twenty minutes later it was obvious that I was reading to myself. Alex was asleep. Not for the first time, I found myself sympathizing with his professors. The boy was cute as hell, but he had the attention span of a goldfish. Still, I wasn't going to complain, and adjusted my position slightly to make myself more comfortable. There was the slightest whiff of menthol from him and a wheezing as his chest rose and fell rhythmically, his breath catching each time he breathed out. I sat still, enjoying both the feeling of my boyfriend's body and the quiet after a hectic day. After a while he shuffled slightly, so his body was more side on to mine and his face pressed into my neck and shoulder. I cradled the back of his neck and allowed my own eyes to slide closed.

I was brought sharply back to wakefulness by the sound and shock of Alex sneezing, his body convulsed in my grip three times before collapsing back against me.

"Oh God." He groaned as he got his breath back.

"Poor baby." I muttered thickly, I was sympathetic of course, but still half asleep. "Maybe you should go back to bed, huh?"

"Maybe." He agreed sadly. "Might have a bath first."

"Well don't drown." I eased myself upright, there was no feeling in my left leg which had been supporting much of his weight.

"You are not a nice person." He muttered, kicking my shin weakly.

"So why do you sleep with me?"

"We've been over this; because you give great head."

"You're not so bad yourself." I grinned broadly at him, knowing that that answer would throw him. He flushed and dropped his eyes from mine. True to his word that first time, he had been applying himself to learning how to do to me what I had done to him, but was still ill at ease with any discussion of his role in our sex life - or of his own prowess.

"Asshole." He muttered, but only halfheartedly. Picking up a cushion from one of the chairs and throwing it weakly at me, he headed for the bathroom.

"What? What did I say?" I called after him. "It was a compliment!" I stayed where I was, and listened to the sound of the bath running, mentally debating whether to go through and join him. I ought to go, if only to make sure he didn't conduct any more experiments in creating life by combining my toiletries. The last bath he had taken unsupervised had featured about twenty distinct ingredients and smelled like a French whore house (as my dear, delightful father would say). He was always doing stuff like that, which was why he wasn't allowed to cook!

As I sat in thought, my mind drifted back to how Alex and I had met and ended up living together. And ultimately, though I still found it hard to believe, how he had ended up as my lover and closest friend. Inevitably, like a needle to a magnet, my thoughts turned to that night in the movie theater. By unspoken agreement, neither of us had talked about the confrontation with Derek on the way home. We had gone straight back to the apartment that night, more than a week earlier, and something in his eyes had kept me silent on the journey. He had thrown his (my) jacket across the back of the couch and flopped down with a sigh, his eyes closed. I stood behind him and put my hands on his shoulders and squeezed gently.

"You okay?" I had asked him.

"You dropped the popcorn." Alex muttered and emitted a strange snorting sound. He leant his head back and looked up at me. "And the coke!" And suddenly he was laughing, laughing so hard he couldn't breathe and had to clutch at his belly to ease the pain of it. For a while I stood staring, wondering if maybe I should call a doctor - or a psychiatrist - but his laughter quickly proved infectious and I joined in, coming round to sit beside him and hug him tightly. He clung to me until I thought my ribs might crack, laughing all the while with tears running down his cheeks, more than a hint of hysteria in his voice.

"Alex?"

"Oh God, Ryan!" He released me and sat back, his hands finding mine. "What have I done?"

"I think you just came out, Alex."

"I guess I did." There was a long silence as we continued to hold hands and look at one another. "Oh God." He sagged back into the upholstery and closed his eyes again.

"Are you okay?"

"This isn't how I planned it, Ryan. Not at all how I planned it." He sounded dazed.

"We don't always get to choose how it happens."

"But, oh, God!"

"Alex, I'm so sorry..." I began to try comforting him.

"Wow! What a relief."

"Huh?" That was not what I had expected him to say, not even close in fact. "A relief?"

"Well, you know me. If it had been up to me to choose the time and place it'd never have happened." He opened his eyes and grinned, well grimaced at least, at me. "I feel all light headed, I mean, I did it And spectacularly, too. People know. And I honestly don't care what anyone else thinks. But, oh god! What will people think?" His eyes were wide with the realization of what he had done.

"Calm down, Alex. I'm sure everything will work out." Even to me that didn't sound convincing, life was going to be pretty tough for him for a while. I only hoped he'd be able to get through it all, and that I would be able to help him.

"Sure. Listen, I think I need a drink." And so saying he rose and poured himself a huge glass of Jack Daniels. Obviously unconvinced. "Want one?"

"Is there any left?"

"Ha ha." He downed the whisky in one gulp.

"Maybe we should have an early night tonight, huh?" I asked rising and crossing the room to him. I put my hand on his arm and he nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, you're right." He gave me a decisive nod and visibly pulled himself together. "Let's tackle tomorrow when it comes." That night I had fallen asleep first, wrapped in Alex's arms, he barely slept all night but rather than tossing and turning he had simply lain there holding me and thinking his own thoughts.

The following day he was feeling a little seedy but he didn't shy away from anything he had to do and set about the day as though nothing had happened going to classes as usual. It was a Friday though so Alex only had one class that morning and practice at the pool all afternoon. My day was a lot more busy than his, so I got home later than him and found him sprawled on his back on the living room rug with a pot of coffee and the stereo remote just in reach. His shoes were by the couch, his backpack in a corner, and he lay with his eyes closed and his hands crossed behind his head. He looked better to me then than at any time I could recall, but I put sex from my mind and tried to be as supportive as possibly could. Durufle's Requiem was playing, which did not bode well.

"So? What happened." I switched the stereo off.

"Nothing." He actually sounded pretty cheerful.

"Yeah? And I'm the Pope. What happened." I kicked his outstretched leg.

"Nothing." He raised his head a little opened his big, brown eyes and grinned at me. "Your Holiness. Why are you so late back anyway?"

"I got dragged off for coffee by Ben after work."

"Oh? And, why, pray, was that, suh?" He drawled the question in a priceless Scarlett O'Hara imitation.

"Why do you think. He wanted to know all about you."

"Well I hope you were kind to my ego." Another grin. "And the rest of me!"

"You're in a good mood, why?" I kicked his leg again.

"Why shouldn't I be? I have the love of a good man." He chuckled.

"Seriously." Exasperation creeping into my voice.

"I'm in a good mood, because nothing happened. I wasn't lynched, nobody threw eggs at me or came at me with an ax. Aside from a few abruptly stopped conversations, nothing happened." He gave what I assumed was meant to be a shrug, though prostrate as he was it was hard to tell.

"Well lucky you, I was given the third degree by everyone I met."

"That's because most of your friends are gossipy queens."

"Hey! Don't use that word." I kicked him for a third time and this time he kicked back.

"I'm allowed, I'm one too."

"Hardly!" I laughed aloud at that assertion.

"So what did you and Ben talk about?"

"I told you already. He wanted to know about you, but I didn't tell him anything other than that we were together and the rumors he heard about you throwing me over the counter and taking me right there in the movie theater weren't entirely true." I slid off the couch and joined him on the floor.

"People are saying that?"

"No, idiot. So are you going to tell me what happened at practice or do I have to beat it out of you?"

"Ha! I'd like to see you try."

"Fair enough, maybe I should tickle it out of you?"

"No fair! I've had a hard day! You're meant to come home and look after me, cook me grits, fetch my slippers, that kinda thing."

"I don't even know what a 'grit' is, and I don't 'fetch'." And, anyway, he didn't have a pair of slippers to fetch if I had been inclined to.

"Maybe I should trade you in? What's Ben's number?" He pushed himself up onto his elbows and then his hands, making as though to stand.

"Do you want someone to wield an ax? Because if you do, you're going the right way about it." I put my hand flat on his chest and pushed him back down only to be yanked along with him and hugged tightly to him.

"I don't want anyone or anything but you." He told my hair.

"That's so sweet, Alex." I whispered back.

"And maybe some more coffee. This has gone cold." And that was all he would say on the subject, no matter how much I questioned him. And I was pretty insistent; eventually he simply snapped and told me to lay off because he wasn't feeling well. Saturday, he spent the entire day in bed and by evening had developed a pretty impressive bronchial sounding cough. I swung instantly into Nurse mode and looked after my 'bwave wittle man', bringing him soup and mopping his fevered brow. Well, maybe not quite. For the next few days things had been much the same, when I hadn't been out at class or whatever I had hung around with Alex, trying to keep his spirits up and monitoring his health. I knew him well enough to know he'd have eaten all the wrong things and failed to take any medicine without my supervision anyway.

With another heavy sigh, which I was getting pretty good at lately (almost as good as my mother), I got up and made my way through to the bathroom. Alex was perched on the edge of the bath, stripped now to shorts and socks, with the look of a refugee about him. Water cascaded into the tub and he was trailing his fingers lazily through the rapidly forming bubbles, checking the temperature. I felt a strange urge to topple him into the water, and had he been feeling better I would have. Instead I stood in the doorway and observed him silently, admiring the firmness and definition of his muscular legs, shaved smooth for better swimming speed. I stifled a chuckle at a memory of buying him a leg waxing kit a few weeks earlier and the way he had squawked as I pulled the first strip off for him. He'd returned to shaving straight after, and sworn off leg wax forever.

"Enjoying the view?" He asked without turning round to face me. His voice was quiet, almost inaudible over the crash of the water. 'Uh, oh', I thought, 'Alex is getting pensive again'.

"Very much."

"I'm glad. Have to be good for something."

"What?" I took a few steps towards him. "What are you talking about?"

"Just what I say. It's all I'm good for. Eye candy." He shut off the water.

"Alex! Don't be ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous. I'm dumb, Ryan. You know it, I know it. Everyone knows it."

"You are not dumb." I crossed the remaining distance as he leant down to pull off his socks. "You are a really smart, sharp, guy."

"Bullshit. But thanks for trying." He shucked his shorts and stepped over the side of the tub, lowering himself into the water with a gasp.

"I can't talk to you when you're in this mood."

"I'm not in a mood." He leant back and closed his eyes. "Got a letter today. My GPA is through the floor, I'm to shape up or ship out."

"What? How could that happen? Why didn't you tell me?" I sat on the edge of the bath and looked down at him. I wanted to grab hold of him and shake him and curse him for being so goddamn stupid.

"And just when things were starting to get good." He opened his eyes and smiled up at me.

"Alex, please. There must be something we can do."

"Sure, get my GPA back up or I lose my scholarship and my place on the squad. No swim, no run, no school." He splashed some water from the bath into my face with a grin. "No Alex."

"Is that what you want?" I was in no mood to play.

"Ironic isn't it? I mean they didn't let me in for my academic brilliance. It was because I can swim and run fast. I still do those, but my grades are going to get me thrown out. Crazy." He tapped the side of his head twice with his index finger.

"And you're going to allow that?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course you do. You always have a choice." I was adamant about it, I didn't want him to go, not when things were, as he said, getting good.

"Sure. I could become a genius overnight. Maybe I should listen to Mozart rather than Durufle, huh? Build my IQ." A snort of laughter and a wheezing sound. He submerged and blew a stream of bubbles before erupting again sending water splashing all over the bathroom floor. "We talked about this before, everyone knows I'm dumb."

"No! Some people 'think' you're dumb, but they don't know you.

"You know me, and even you call me stupid."

"Not seriously, Alex. Come on, you know I don't mean it."

"I know. But they're still right."

"They are not, Alex, you know you can do it, you just have to focus."

"You sound like the coach. Wasn't there a duck in here?" There had been until recently, it was a stupid yellow plastic thing John had one at a fair and I had thrown it out. I couldn't see what the relevance of the duck could possibly be and I was annoyed with him for so blatantly changing the subject. I know Alex likes to be self reliant, but he had me worried and I wanted to help him.

"Alex!" I slapped his shoulder sharply, splashing myself again in the process.

"Ow. What?" He scowled at me. "You're meant to be being nice to me."

"Screw nice. That's exactly what I'm talking about. You can't just ignore stuff and hope it goes away."

"I'm not. I'm accepting the situation."

"No. You're rolling over and playing dead." I snapped at him.

"So what happened to the duck?" He turned away from me.

"Fuck the duck! Listen to me." I shouted at him and for the longest time he just looked at me and then burst out laughing, right in my face. I allowed myself a small smile.

"Fuck the duck!"

"Alex, shut up!"

"You're funny when you're mad, Ryan." He touched me on the nose with his finger, leaving bubbles there.

"Screw you. Listen, there's nothing wrong with your brain, when you're interested in stuff you take everything in. And I know your memory is superb, you never let me forget anything. You can do this." The fact that he even knew who Durufle was proved that, he had no interest in classical music when he moved in, now he knew my (impressive if I say so myself) collection better than I did and had even been doing some reading to supplement his knowledge.

"Maybe."

"Alex, I'll do everything I can to help you."

"I know you will. But you don't need to worry."

"But I do. I can't watch you just give up. You're better than that." I was as insistent as I could manage to be without raising my voice.

"I have an appointment Wednesday to see Rogers."

"Oh." Matt Rogers, was the man to see about academic issues, a really nice guy and the best member of the faculty to approach, I was impressed. The fact that he was gay couldn't hurt either.

"Think I should wear shorts?" He winked at me, reading my mind.

"No." I allowed the corner of my mouth to curl slightly, but fought to keep a straight face.

"He wants to help me go over my options. I figure there's no point stressing until after that, right?"

"I guess. But you know I meant it, anything I can do to help. Anything, that's what I'm here for." I put my hand on his shoulder to try to convey as much sincerity as I could.

"Well, that amongst other things!" He splashed me again and this time I fought back, I had the upper hand, having both height and better traction. I soon had him squirming wildly in the bath as I tickled him, water slopping everywhere. Then the tables were abruptly turned as I found myself yanked, fully clothed into the water with him. That is to say there was water in the bath up until then, most of it left as I splashed down.

"You bastard!" I spluttered shaking water off myself.

"You're all wet." He observed with a wide smile, lying back again in what little water was left.

"You're meant to be sick! Look at this mess." I hauled myself to my feet, water pouring from my soaked clothing.

"Well none of this would've happened if you'd helped me find the duck, so it's kinda your own fault." I made a mental note to buy the first plastic duck I saw. I couldn't be mad at him really, as I had considered dunking him - and at least he was back to his usual bouncy, upbeat self. He hauled himself upright, cascading water and treating me to a view that was, for all the world, the gay answer to Boticelli's 'Birth of Venus'. Now I may not know much about art, but I know what I like! And it was standing naked in front of me toweling its hair, now name me a picture that can do that.

"Get out, let me clean this mess up."

"Yes, Sir!" He complied at once, lest I expect him to help. When I had finished mopping up the lake on the bathroom floor I returned to the living room to find Alex sprawled on the couch again. This time, however, his hair was brushed, he had shaved and he was dressed. Albeit still more scruffy looking than usual in an old pair of jeans and a team sweatshirt. I shot him a black look and went to change out of my own wet clothes before I joined him. I was still in the bedroom when I heard the doorbell ring and the sound of voices as Alex answered it.

"Ryan, you remember Blair, right?" Alex asked me as I came into the living room. He took a seat on the couch and indicated that Blair should sit too. Blair could not have looked more nervous.

"Um, hi, Ryan." He said and sort of nearly smiled at me, he was having trouble meeting anyone's gaze. He ran his fingers distractedly through his shirt blond hair, messing it up in the process.

"Blair." I nodded a greeting. "Would you like a coffee or something?" I tried to be the good host despite the palpable tension in the room.

"Blair isn't staying that long." Alex answered for him, his tone sharp. "Or am I wrong?" He fixed his stare on his teammate and waited for a response.

"Um. No. No coffee, thanks, Ryan. I can't stay."

"Blair's here on behalf of the track team, Ryan." He informed me without looking in my direction or taking his eyes off Blair for so much as a second. "So, say what you have to say." Alex was never usually this abrupt with anyone. His tone was cold and his voice low and measured. I had a feeling that I could guess what Blair's mission was, and if not for the fact that he was about to screw my boyfriend I might have pitied him. Clearly he'd drawn the short straw and did not relish being the team's spokesmuppet.

"Um. It's about last Friday." From the way he kept swallowing I got the feeling Blair could really use a drink after all. 'Tough', I thought.

"Figured it might be." Alex snorted. I remained quiet, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall to see how this would develop.

"Um, that is, the guys heard about what happened." For the first time he looked up, glancing at me before settling his gaze on Alex. "And a few of us, we talked about it. And I'm sort of here to find out if it's true."

"If what's true?" Alex apparently had decided not to make this any easier for him. There was a long, awkward pause.

"So you wanna tell me what happened in the theater? There are some pretty wild rumors flying about and I think I'd rather get the real story from you."

"What's to tell? I punched Derek, he was hassling me. And my boyfriend." Alex shrugged, his air of studied nonchalance might have fooled some people, but I could tell he was every bit as nervous as Blair.

"Are you and Ryan, well, are you like an item?"

"We're not 'like' anything. Ryan and I are together." My heart swelled with pride to hear Alex saying that, and the boyfriend thing, out loud and to another person. I almost wanted to hug Blair for making hm do it.

"Okay." Blair nodded slowly and licked his lips before going on. "So, like I said, a few of us talked about it and decided we needed to hear from you what happened."

"So now you've heard."

"I had no idea, Alex!" Blair suddenly blurted. "I mean, you and Julie..." He trailed off under Alex's cold stare and then did the most surprising thing, he smiled at me. "Sorry, Ryan, I guess that was pretty tactless of me."

"Huh?" I managed, adding my distinctive dash of intelligence and wit to the conversation.

"Talking about Julie like that, that was pretty disrespectful to you guys."

"What?" Alex added, so at least I wasn't the only one acting like he only had a passing acquaintance with language.

"Well, you know, I'm guessing Ryan here is why you broke up with her?" What was going on here? Suddenly Blair, who had been nervous as hell, was the only one in the room who seemed to be in control of himself.

"Um, yes." Alex finally answered having gaped open mouthed for a few seconds and flicked a quick glance at me. He recovered well though, very well. "Yes, that's right. Ryan is exactly what I need."

"Listen, Alex, you should know that me and the guys? We don't care. Derek was asking for it anyway, those football assholes are all the same." He grinned, but by the whiteness of his knuckles where his fingers were entwined it was clear that he was still uncomfortable.

"You don't care?"

"Nope. Look, man, I'm your friend, right? And I think I know you pretty well, and you've been different, so much happier, this semester. So, I don't know, alive?" Blair was having problems putting his thoughts into words, and was looking from one of us to the other, whether for assistance or to assure us he was genuine I know not. "So, I guess what I'm saying is, if you're happy then that's all that matters."

"And everyone thinks this?"

"Not everyone. No. But people'll get used to it, you just surprised them." For the first time he smiled broadly. "You have to admit, guys, it was a pretty dramatic way to tell people!" Alex, to my great relief, smiled back and laughed along with him, and I couldn't prevent a little grin myself. Sure, I knew that not everyone was going to be this cool about it, but I thought Alex deserved some good news, so I kept my mouth shut.

"So how about that coffee now, Blair?" I asked, pushing myself away from the wall, posing the warm beverage as a kind of peace offering.

"That'd be cool, Ryan. Thanks." He smiled again, and I left the two of them to talk some more and went through to the kitchen to make the coffee. I could still make out the low rumble of their voices from the other room, but it was hard to pick out words. I heard my own name from time to time, but in what context it was impossible to tell. I took a little longer about it than was really necessary, but eventually I was done and returned to the living room with a tray bearing mugs of coffee and some cookies.

The three of us drank our coffee and chatted about nothing in particular, not going back to the subject of Alex and me even once. It was a pretty casual conversation, but I was surprised by how articulate he was and was actually starting to like him. It turned out that one of Blair's cousins was gay too and had had a hard time coping with it, which explained to an extent why he was so accepting of Alex's relationship with me. I was glad Alex had such good friends, and relieved to learn that being with me wasn't going to cost him their friendship. He had said once before that the people who couldn't deal with it couldn't really have been his friends anyway, that if they weren't willing to take him as he was that was their loss. We've all said it, and I knew that it was mostly bravado and that he'd have been really hurt if his teammates had rejected him.

"Well, guys. I should get going." Blair finally said, pushing himself to his feet with a grunt.

"Okay." Alex answered first, not rising himself although I did. "Thanks for stopping by, dude."

"No problem. I hope you feel better soon. We're missing you at practice, man. Without you, Jeff's taking control." Blair leant forward and grasped Alex's hand with a grin.

"Aargh!" Alex laughed again, back to his old self. "Okay, I'll be back soon!" I had only the vaguest idea who Jeff was, but I guess he wasn't the easy going guy that Alex is.

"Good." Blair replied as I walked him to the door.

"Blair? Thanks, man. You coming over meant a lot to him."

"No problem. Alex is one of the good ones. But I guess you know that!" He clapped me on the back as he left the apartment. "Look after him, Ryan. Or I'll kick your ass." And with those words and a big grin, he headed down the steps.

"I'll keep it in mind. See ya, Blair!" I called after him.

"Oh, hey, Ryan?" He shouted back up the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"You two make a lovely couple!" I blushed bright red, anyone nearby would have heard him loud and clear he was so loud. I shook my head at him, with what must have been a big dopey grin on my face, and closed the door.

"Well that was weird." Alex said as I came back into the living room.

"You've got a good friend there, Alex." I leant over the back of the couch and draped my arms round his neck, my nostrils filled with the smell of his shampoo. God, how I love this man!

"Yup. So it seems." He leant his head back, allowing me to nuzzle against his neck. "I've got a pretty good one here too."

"You hungry?" I asked, kissing him again.

"Only for you, stud." He growled.

"I think I might cook some pasta." I said, ignoring him and heading for the kitchen once more, stopping to pick up the empty cups.

"Hey! What about me?"

"The anticipation will do you good."

"Okay. You need any help?"

"Not really, but I wouldn't mind the company." We joined me in the kitchen and got delightfully underfoot as I prepared the sauce for the pasta. His hands were on my waist and his lips on my neck the whole time I was chopping vegetables, every time I went to the fridge I had to squeeze past him and every time I turned round I found myself in his arms. It was lovely, and I didn't care it took twice as long to make as it should have! He could distract me like that any time he liked. As we ate, we chatted about the guys on the team and tried to work out who was in the pro-Alex camp and who wasn't, from what we could figure out Blair was in the majority. Alex seemed so pleased.

"You know," I volunteered, "I think the way you did it made a difference."

"In what way?"

"Well you know, it was pretty unequivocal wasn't it? Not like, 'um, excuse me but I think I might be gay', more 'I'm gay, what're you going to do about it?'"

"Yeah, I guess. What can I say, I'm an animal! Grrrr." He made a claw with one hand and raked it through the air, making me laugh again. I stood yo clear the table and tousled his hair, suddenly finding myself sitting in his lap, being kissed deeply.

"Wow." I managed to gasp as he let me take a breath.

"Leave the dishes. I'll do them later. You cleaned up the bathroom after all."

"It was hardly worth you getting dressed, was it?"

"Ha ha. Maybe I don't want to have sex with you after all." He pushed me to my feet. "If you're going to be mean to me."

"Oh, I can be just as mean as you want me to, beautiful."

"I bet! But 'I can't be tied down with a man who wants me tied up'."

"Huh?"

"Bloodhound Gang, sort of, not exactly Marvell, but it fits the bill." He reached out and dug his fingers into my ribs making me squirm and squeal and wriggle out of his grasp. "After all, you're the intellectual, not me!"

"Oh, shut up!"

"Make me."

"Okay." And I did the only thing I could think of that would make him shut up, I kissed him. A long, slow, thoroughly enjoyable kiss, before taking his hand and leading him back to the living room. Alex threw himself full length onto the sofa, rolling onto his side and holding both arms out to me. I quickly lay down on my back alongside him, savoring the feeling of his muscular arm as I pulled him a little closer, so he was half atop me.

"You mind if we don't do anything, Ryan? Just lie here?" He looked down into my eyes a fond smile on his lips and rested his hand on my chest.

"No. I could stay like this quite happily."

"Good. 'Cause I'm still feeling kinda icky." His voice was quiet and still a little choked, although the warm bath and a meal seemed to have done him some good.

"Really? You feel pretty good to me."

"Ah, a comedian." He sighed and trailed his fingers through my hair.

"Seriously though, whatever you want." I pulled him toward me and kissed his cheek, chastely, to show I was serious.

"Can I hold you to that?"

"Take a raincheck?"

"Yeah, you don't mind?" He gazed into my eyes, as though searching for something. He seemed about to continue speaking, but instead shook his head and lowered it again to rest it on my shoulder.

"Alex, of course I don't! I'm not completely sex mad. If you just want to lie here that's what we'll do."

"Thanks." We lay together for a time, Alex occasionally leaning in to kiss me gently. Finally, with a sigh he began to speak again. "You know, I'm incredibly lucky? Not many people would be as patient with me as you are. I've been so 'stop-start' with you, Ryan. You deserve more commitment than that."

"I know how difficult this is, Alex, I've been there."

"No. It's not difficult at all. I'm making it difficult by not admitting to myself how I feel. We have the only thing that matters." There was a pause, which I got the feeling I was meant to fill from the look in his wonderfully expressive eyes.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"I care about you a lot, Ryan. I mean you're sweet and funny and wonderful. And, you're so good to me and so caring and you always go out of your way for me..." He stopped talking and scrunched his face up as though struggling to find the right words. "Aw hell, just say it Hayes, for God's sake."

"Say what?" I asked quietly, half afraid of the answer.

Alex took a deep breath. "I've been saying this over and over in my head, Ryan, trying to get it right. Ryan, I think I love you." I was silent for a long time, running the words round and round in my head, marveling at how good they sounded and how great they made me feel. "That was dumb, I shouldn't have said that."

"Why not?" I recovered my voice.

"Because you obviously don't feel the same." He pushed himself up on his elbow away from me.

"No!" I grabbed him and pulled him down, unable to not laugh, though there were tears forming in the corners of my eyes. "No, Alex, you couldn't be more wrong." I swabbed at my face with my forearm, trying to wipe away my tears before they got started. I sat up too and threw both arms around his back, hugging him as tightly as possible.

"Wow. I didn't expect this." Alex murmured.

"You have no idea how happy you've just made me. I love you so much, Alex."

"You do?" He pushed me away a little so he could look into my eyes again. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't want to scare you off or confuse you." I answered simply, but between gasps as the tears were now flowing freely down my face.

"Now who's the idiot?" He whispered and kissed me on the lips.