This story is more or less true, we argue sometimes on the way things happened, but after a short discussion, we decided that I should be the one to tell it. So, here it is, maybe a little romanticized, but all the main events are true. Comments and questions to vintage1985@gmail.com
Forgive Me
I remember like it was yesterday even though two years have passed.
The party was crazy, and I knew that it would be the first really out of control night in my college experience. I was a freshman, and everything was new and exciting to me. Emma and I were doing jello shots, and I should have realized how past my tolerance I was. But, she was persuasive and determined to get me drunk and I was sufficiently past my limit and in no position to complain.
"Jake!" She was looking down at me with one eye slightly closed. I could feel the music pulsing in the background. "You don't look so great." Well, there's a keen observation.
I nodded and got up, wobbling a little. "I think I spilled beer on me."
She laughed and pointed over toward her room. "There's probably something in my room that would fit you, aren't you and James the same size?" James was her boyfriend who had unashamedly taken her out of my life and made her unavailable to me at any point after 8pm. I was a little bitter, but he was a genuinely great guy.
"Yeah, probably." At this point, I was unable to really make decisions for myself, so I pushed through the crowd. The music was so loud and the voices around me had become a dull roar. I reached the door and pushed it closed behind me, relaxing into the relative silence of her bedroom. I lay down on her bed, just for a moment, and closed my eyes.
I woke up to the door opening and the sound of low voices. I was still pretty blitzed and I could hear the pounding of the music outside and the slam of the screen door as people came and went. I sat up briefly as a shaft of light swung over the bed as someone left and the door shut.
"Faggot."
I froze, my muddled mind momentarily realizing what I was hearing. I tried to sit up, but a hand shoved me back onto the bed. Drunk as I was, I struggled, but my coordination was somewhat lacking and I ended up pinned to the bed.
"I've seen you and your faggot friends on the quad doing your little rallies, you queers shouldn't even be allowed in this school."
The voice was low, and hard to recognize, and my breathing was labored as the hand on my neck tightened.
I started to say something but a hand went over my mouth and I struggled again, trying to push him away from me, but his grip was strong. I felt a cold wave of panic and adrenaline wash over me. Shit, he's going to kill me.
His hand moved down to my belt buckle, pulling it off and unbuttoning my pants. I could smell a strong wave of alcohol from his breath and the masculine scent of cologne. I kicked my legs, but within seconds my pants were off. I pushed on his shoulders, but he was too strong and he had a firm hand over my mouth.
"Teach you stupid faggot how a man does it." His voice was low and his breath was warm on my neck. I felt the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as he pulled my boxers down. I tried sitting up, anything to get away, but he pushed me back against the pillow. I turned my head to the side to try to say something, but he wrenched my head back with such a force I thought he'd break my neck.
And in an instant, I realized how hard I was. For some uncontrollable reason, I was hard. Harder than I'd ever been before. His hand on my mouth, I suddenly felt his hardness push against me. And then he was inside. Pain like I'd never known coursed through me and tears came to my eyes. I writhed, but he was on top of me, holding me down. I arched my back, trying in anyway to push him away, but with a single powerful thrust he was completely inside. The hand pushing on his shoulder dug into his skin and I heard him grunt, his hand moving from my mouth to my chest, holding me down painfully.
I closed my eyes, in too much pain to even scream, and I felt him move inside me again. "Hold on queer it's going to be a bumpy ride." I took a deep breath as he pulled out and slowly pushed back in. The pain subsided, and a car turning the corner outside threw light again into the room. In an instant, I saw wide blue eyes, a square jaw, powerful shoulders and it was dark again. I blinked back some tears as he pushed back in, and I gripped the side of the bed knotting the sheets in my hands.
His pace grew faster, and suddenly I realized my hands were around his neck, pulling him into me. His hand moved under me, holding me against him, and I felt his skin, smooth and moist with sweat against my body. I couldn't help it, I was leaking pre cum against both of our chests as his rhythm grew more regular. I locked my legs around his torso, and I felt his lips against my neck. His hand against my shoulder again, he pulled me into him, deeper and deeper. I was so angry, yet so turned on as I felt his thickness inside me.
His breathing grew irregular, and I could tell he was close. My hand found my cock and I pumped up and down as he pulled out even further, pushing himself fully inside me. I could feel the tears sliding down my cheek but I bit my lip, urging myself to orgasm. And then I felt his lips touch mine tentatively, almost like a question. They were warm and smooth, and I felt his tongue slip inside my mouth. I moaned and pushed myself into his thrusts, my hand on the back of his neck pushing our mouths together. He tasted clean and masculine, and I had never felt so incredibly aroused before. I felt my hand pushed away, and he began the rhythmic stroking, bringing me so close to the edge. And then he grunted, kissing my neck as I felt wave after wave explode inside me. I arched my back and came, spraying the small space in between our bodies with my load. His teeth grated across my neck as our bodes slid against each other. His broad shoulders came down against me as he collapsed on the bed and I turned my head to the side.
It was silent, and I felt the tears come again. My ass hurt like a bulldozer had reamed it out, and I felt him get up. I heard some rustling and brief light flooded the room as he left, the door quietly shutting behind him. I felt angry, and dirty- so dirty. At some point during the experience I had managed to sober up, and the whole enormity of what had happened dawned on me.
"Where did you go? Jake?" Emma was waving her hand in front of my face. I smiled a small half smile at her and looked down at my book. Somehow, concentrating on Philosophy and History of Southeastern Europe had escaped me. "What's wrong with you? I can barely get you to say two words today." She was genuinely concerned, but I didn't want to talk about it, much less think about it.
"I'm fine." It didn't even sound convincing to me, but it was worth a try. Emma frowned, and I knew that she knew better, but also knew better than to say anything.
We got up and left the library, the freezing air a sudden shock as we emerged onto the quad. The snow was falling in a frenzy, the sharp wind whipping it around stinging my cheeks and sticking to my eyelashes. The sky was an angry gray, and I felt the same inside. We walked quietly, the only sound was the soft padding of our shoes on the freshly fallen snow.
And then we passed him. He was taller in real life, but I remember the piercing blue eyes and the strong angular jaw. He was holding her hand, but she was immaterial to me. He averted his eyes, and as he passed I felt the faint smell of his cologne. I took in a sharp breath and Emma looked at me again, perplexed.
"Jake?"
I felt the tears come again but I shoved them back down inside me. "Nothing. I just have a lot to do today." She frowned again and we continued to walk. I turned my head to look back at him, watching his figure recede into the snow.
I found out his name was Bryson- one of the few at our school who seemed to have everything. Wealthy, well-know parents, captain of the baseball team, a great swimmer and shocking good looks. His girlfriend was Alexa, and they had dated since high school, opting to go to college together. My friends had some odd hero-worship complex about him which made me ill. I felt like I was harboring a horrible secret, and at the same time suffering quietly at my own choosing.
The next few days passed slowly, and I fell back into my routine of going to class, doing my homework, trying so hard to concentrate on my work and forget what had happened. At night, in a guilty fit of loneliness, I felt my mind wander back to the night in Emma's bedroom, his intoxicating smell and power, the way he held me against him as he came inside me. It was sickening, but I was fascinated.
And he had kissed me. That's something the average rapist doesn't do. Rapist. The word sounded so harsh in my mind, so hurtful and scathing that I had avoided thinking about it altogether.
"Jake."
I was jolted back to reality.
"Uh?" I was the king of articulate speech the past few days it seemed.
"I was asking you if you were free to tutor. You know, since you're almost a graduate student anyway." I could hear the professor talking to me but my mind had seemed to have left the building and was wandering away somewhere else.
"Yeah, I guess." Spoken like someone who should definitely be helping others with their class work.
"Great. You can go down to the learning lab after class, we're doing walk-ins for people on the danger list."
I nodded, and for the rest of class I stared down at the book, unaware that the page I was on wasn't even in the correct chapter.
I walked down the stairs toward the lab in the basement, the students passing me and milling around the halls had completely escaped my conscious awareness. I was lost, and I had taken to going over the whole scenario in my head in every spare moment I had. Great idea, I know.
"You must be a tutor." The office attendant greeted me with a big smile. Some people are just too damn happy. How can someone people smile all the damn time?
"Yeah, I'm tutoring for English 420. Professor Diel sent me down here."
She nodded. "You have one walk in today, he's in the cubicle over there."
I picked up my bag and walked over to the table and froze.
He turned around and I could tell we both knew, but had no idea what to say.
"I'm Jake," I said mechanically, offering him my hand. He took it, and I remembered once again how warm and smooth his hands were. Damnit, that's not the point.
I sat down. "So, English 420 huh? I know second semester always kills people." I was determined to stay professional.
He nodded. "It's chapter 4 that gets me, identifying sentence components."
I opened my book, but the words appeared to run together, like a blur. I looked back up at him, at his wide blue eyes, and anger suddenly welled back up inside me.
"Why." I was trying to stay calm, but something had just snapped.
"Why what?"
How could he, how could he sit there and insult me by denying it. "Why did you do it, that night."
He looked away, but my patience had run out. I wanted answers. Now.
"I was drunk." His voice was so tentative, and it sounded like a question.
"Drunk?" My voice was much louder than I had anticipated, and a few students looked up from their books at us.
He kept his head turned, and I could tell how uncomfortable he was.
I lowered my voice. "How is that a fucking excuse? Drunkenness is an excuse for passing out, for acting like a fool, not for raping someone."
He looked at me, and his blue eyes seemed so sad. I was overwhelmed with emotion and I could feel the hurt coming up inside me. "How could you." I could barely finish the sentence.
Before I knew it, he had gotten up and left. I sat at the table for a few minutes, and looked out the window. The snow had stopped from the previous day, and the campus was blanketed in white.
"So, x equals eight. Right Jake? Jake?" Emma was sitting on my bed and I was once again staring intelligently at my textbook thinking about everything except my homework.
"Right."
"Uh, no, x equals thirty three forty fifths." She had a triumphant look on her face. "See? I knew you weren't even paying attention to me."
I sighed. "Fine, don't ask me to help you with your math then."
She shot me a disapproving glance. "Don't say you will then."
It was snowing again, and the white powder had accumulated on my windowsill frosting my view of the rest of the quad. The trees outside looked gaunt and sickly, weighed down with snow and ice. A few dark shapes trudged across the frozen landscape. Welcome to winter in Illinois right.
The clank of the radiator brought me back to reality. Emma was laying down on my bed doodling on her book.
"Emma, when something is wrong, so wrong that it feels right, is it still wrong?"
She looked at me with her head cocked to one side. "Jakey, I don't think I've ever heard you make so little sense in your whole life."
I rocked my chair back on to its back legs and considered her from across the room. "You know, like stealing. It's wrong, but it's like a rush."
"You're not a klepto, are you?"
I couldn't help but laugh. I knew discussing it wasn't an option so I looked back at my book. "Never mind."
We studied in silence for awhile.
"Gotta pee." I said matter of factly, and I got up. Opening the door, I almost walked into him.
He was standing there, and it was shocking, I must admit. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then thought better of it.
"Uh, Jake?" Emma was looking curiously over at me.
"Do you want something?" I considered him closely. He looked pale, but his cheeks were bright red like he had been running. There was snow freshly fallen in his hair and he was wearing just a tee shirt. It must have been six degrees outside.
"Can I talk to you?"
I nodded. "Emma, can you give me a few minutes?"
She winked at me. "Anything for you." I shot her a glance, and she looked quizzically at Bryson. "Do you know him?"
"Just go Emma."
She gave me another strange look and left.
"So?"
He stood there, his sneakers soaked, and his hair now wet from the melting snow. "I just wanted to talk to you." His voice was so soft and low. He sounded so innocent, but I knew better.
I sat back down in my chair and motioned to the bed. "Have a seat."
He sat down slowly, examining the floor very carefully, never once making eye contact with me. Even I had to admit, he really was beautiful. His boyish face exuded a confidence, but a weakness at the same time. The tee shirt, now wet, stuck to his broad torso emphasizing his wide shoulders and well-honed physique. It was hard to tell whether he was crying or melting snow had run onto his face. "Jake." His voice trembled.
The pang of hurt rose inside me, and now I couldn't tell if it was for me or for him. Wait, why was I feeling sorry for him? He was the one who had taken advantage of me, made my life a living hell for the last few weeks. I hardened my glare and rocked back on my chair again. "Yes?"
"I don't know what to say."
I stayed silent.
"Have you told anyone?"
I was instantly incensed. I thought he was coming here to apologize to me, but he was really just trying to save his own ass. I stood up, but he seemed to understand what I was thinking and cut in.
"No, not like that. If you have, I understand." He paused. "Jake I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."
I considered him, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. "So, Alexa wasn't quite exciting enough for you huh." I knew now was not the time for humor, but it had become so awkward.
"No, she never was. But not like that." He was obviously struggling. He looked up for the first time that night and his eyes seemed to burn through me. "I didn't know how else to tell you."
"Tell me what?" He turned away, looking out the window.
"I knew you would be at that party. I remember seeing you on campus, you looked so comfortable, just wearing it on your sleeve, I hated you for that."
"Hated me?"
He stared at the floor again. "For being so brave, I could never be that brave." He swallowed nervously. "Hell, I can't even admit it to myself. I just wanted to break you, you just seemed so confident and I was so jealous."
"You're gay?" I asked flatly.
He shook his head adamantly. "No, I like girls."
"But?"
He seemed very intent on studying the floor. "I like guys, sometimes. You know."
I nodded. "So, why me? Why take advantage of me?"
"I don't know Jake, I don't know why I did it. I just, was out to prove something to myself."
"Did you?" I was bitter again, and my voice grated against the silence. He looked back at me, and his eyes shined with unshed tears.
"No."
"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't be of any help." I got up and opened the door. "Is that it?"
"I guess." I felt half-guilty about throwing him out, but I was emotionally drained, and I was so conflicted inside. Half of me wanted him to take me on my bed twice as long and twice as hard as he had that night, and the other half wanted to throw him out the window.
He almost ran over Emma as he left, standing at the door. She had obviously put two and two together as she immediately hugged me. I would never ask for emotional support from someone, but if given, I wouldn't complain.
I cried for the first time since it had happened. Big wracking sobs, and Emma was forced to spend the night that night. I fell asleep exhausted and no less confused than the day before.
The next day I walked across the nearly deserted campus to the fountain. The sky was still overcast and it was bitterly cold. The wind had stopped and the trees hung inanimate, criss-crossing the sky with their angular stripped branches. It was deathly quiet, and only a lone plane droned its way across the sky.
"Jake?"
And there he was again, impossibly rising from the shadows to haunt me again. This time he seemed taller, wearing real clothes- dark khakis, a cream sweater and a navy pea coat. He looked so handsome.
I said nothing, sitting on the cold stone staring at the motionless fountain. The snow crunched as he walked over and sat down next to me. My body was so cold, and I ached for him to move closer. At the same time, I still resented him. I was confused, he was confused, but in the process he had violated me.
But I had liked it.
I obviously wasn't getting anywhere mulling it over in my mind.
"You're beautiful, you know." He said it so softly it was barely a whisper. I looked over at him and his face was so open, so vulnerable. His breath rose in wisps above his head and he looked angelic.
I fixed my gaze forward and still said nothing.
"I've never felt this way about a guy before." He let out a deep breath. "It's so electric, when I look at you. I know it's not an excuse for the way I acted, but I had to say it."
I felt a shiver run through my body. I wanted nothing more than to have his arms around me.
"You can't just see something you want and take it Bryson." I looked over at him. "That's not how it works."
"I know."
"What about Alexa?"
I saw him tense, and he stood up, walking back and forth in front of the fountain. "I told her."
I took in a sharp breath. "Told her?"
"About us. About what happened."
"That must have taken courage." I didn't know what else to say. I still sat motionless. "Shouldn't you be at swim team practice?"
He shook his head dismissing the question. "Please Jake, just hear me out."
I nodded and he came back to sit down.
"I think I'm in love with you."
I was angry again. "In love? Do you even know what love is?" I stood up, trying to gain the height advantage for once. "That isn't how love works, that's not how you treat someone you love."
My voice had upset a few crows picking at the rotten seeds beneath the snow, and they fluttered up in a frenzy, their loud cawing echoing, piercing the silent winter air. His eyes were tearing up again, as were mine. I felt so vulnerable.
"There's nothing I can say. Please, just understand. I told her because I've never felt the way I feel about you for anyone before. I risked my relationship because I know that what I feel for you is different." He spoke pleadingly, and I couldn't help but lower part of my defenses.
"Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut." I started to walk away, but I felt his arms on mine, and he spun me around. I felt the same rush of fear that I had that night, and immediately pulled away. But he pulled me close again, against him. I felt the warmth of his body and his sweet smell, and a warmth rushed over me.
"I can see in your eyes, you feel it too." His voice was low again, hushed, and his arms slipped around my waist. His mouth was inches from mine, and I shivered. The air in comparison had become so cold and I moved closer to him. His lips grazed mine, and I closed my eyes.
We stood like that for what seemed like hours, unaware of the people passing around us.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
He took my head in his hands, kissing me, drawing me to him in a way I had never felt before. I realized that tears were running down my cheeks, and I laid my head against his coat, feeling the thump of his heart through the thick fabric.
"Forgive me, please." His voice was throaty as I was hearing it through his chest. I nodded against him, and I felt him trembling.
Two years later, he's still apologizing.
I let him, even though he knows its all been forgiven.