You know that feeling where you wake up somewhere unfamiliar, and for just a few confused seconds, you think you're still at home?
Yeah. That didn't happen to me. I woke up face-to-face with Alex as he clenched my shoulders tightly, my hearing racing. Definitely still at school.
"Dude. It's ten and I'm starving. Please, please come with me to find some eggs or something." His eyes still had that just-woken feeling and I felt my heart swell in my chest as a tired grin spread across my face. In an effort to keep up the straight-dorm-mate appearance, I stopped my eyes from wandering down his slick unclothed chest.
"Sure. Give me a minute to wake up first." He pounced off of me and over to his cheap Ikea set of drawers. With his back turned, I could let my eyes linger... and linger they did. Alex was tall and long - his body was full, but you could still trace the rigid outline of bone beneath skin. Maybe 6'" or so, the epitome of lanky college boy. His shirtless back practically gleamed in the morning light that spilled through our single dorm window, the kind of gleam that makes you just want to run your hands over it like freshly laundered linen or polished wood. Spectacularly flawless cream colored skin.
With boxers, t-shirt, and khaki shorts in hand, he turned to face me and for a quarter of a second, he might have caught me staring with the slightest smirk on my face. In the swathes of his gym shorts from the night before, I was certain I caught a hint of his dic— "Be right back" he said, and with that, he was gone and trotted down the hall to the showers.
My morning wood stirred underneath my sheets, and with a firm grip of resolve around the shaft I decided it would have to wait until later. Snatching my phone from the bedside table, I settled in to stalk highschool friends until Alex returned.
For my first full day, I opted for the "classic unshowered college boy" look and opted to clean myself up later. I stumbled over to the dining hall with Alex, him in shorts, a baseball cap, and flip-flops and me in some sweats from my highschool swim team and a loose tee. I think we definitely looked the part.
The dining hall was everything you'd expect, all wood, very Victorian old-America - accompanied with a passable breakfast buffet. Alex opted for some oatmeal, and I grinned as I watched him meticulously measure out brown sugar over the steaming bowl. Somewhere in his head, I could see a method and pattern forming to everything. Wake up, shower, a bowl of oatmeal - he was a planner. I settled for some Fruit Loops and we both turned from the buffet to find somewhere to sit.
"So, do we go for the lone-wolf thing or try and be sociable?" Alex said over his shoulder to me as he led us down rows of tables. September morning light illuminated the hall, reflecting on the white tile and into his green eyes. I love the way late-summer mornings look.
We settled for a spot on the small outdoor patio at a rough wicker table in the sun, just the two of us. But, and I had already seen it when he turned heads all over campus, Alex was magnetic, almost electric. A few other boys quickly sat down to get to know him... and, by proxy, me too.
There were actually two guys from our floor, Holden and Christopher. Yeah - Christopher, not Chris, a lacrosse bro from New Hampshire. Holden was a ginger of the attractive variety, with short wavy hair and freckles and despite the average stereotype, he went on over bacon and eggs about joining a frat and all the welcome week parties he was hitting.
Christopher and I got along immediately, he was quiet, intense, and devoted to his sport, and I was happy to listen to him go on about his "sick lax days" in highschool and how bad the freshman team at Harvard was in comparison. He had short brown hair and a sharp jawline, he held his head down when he talked and glanced up from a stack of waffles occasionally to smile when a reminiscing about a particularly good game.
"Did you play anything in highschool?" He asked me quietly while Holden and Alex chatted about an advanced calculus class they shared the next morning.
"A little tennis in the spring, swimming in the winter. Not a superstar but I did alright." I responded, and he nodded and seemed content that I was just `sporty' enough to get along with him too.
"You like Xbox?" This was one of those rare moments that he would look up from his food, running his fingers through his hair and waiting for me to answer.
"Oh yeah, definitely." I said quickly, but in reality, I was pretty bad at videogames.
"Me and my roomie have a pretty sweet setup, you should come check it out." He leaned back in his chair and slid his plate away from him. He stretched his muscular arms behind his head and locked his fingers there, pressed against his hair. The table shook as his Nike's collided with a leg, his gym shorts riding up to reveal an untanned thigh with a just a few tiny hairs. The sight of a jock stretched out this early in the morning was a little too much, and I felt my dick struggle against my boxer-briefs, buried in my sweats.
I regained my composure just before the silence had gone on too long, "Oh for sure, I'll have to swing by sometime."
With that, breakfast was over. Holden and Christopher parted ways with Alex and I and we puttered over the lawns, back to the relative safety of our dorm.