Josh and Nate

Disclaimer: All the usual disclaimers apply. Do not read if you are not of age (18, 21 in some places). Do not read if homosexual activities offend you. And lastly I want to say that none of the following actually happened nor are any of the characters real. Now on with the show! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part I

I hate walking. I swore that when I turned 16 I would never walk anywhere again. Well, that worked for about five years or so, at least until my car broke down. So, for now, I have to rely on my feet to get me where I want to go. Perhaps if I had taken better care of my baby, she wouldn't have broken down, but then again I wouldn't have this story to tell.

I transferred to this rural hick college after a horrible marriage (there should be laws against nineteen year olds getting married, but we live and learn I guess). I don't know what I was thinking. I knew I loved her and I thought she loved me. After about six months of her abuse, both mental and physical, I told her that I had had enough. I got a court order against her and after a very long year I was granted the house, the furniture, the debt, and my baby (a 1985 Mercedes 300, black with leather interior, 5 cd player and a sunroof). I know what you are thinking, but no I am not rich. I got the dilapidated house and furniture when my grandmother passed away. I bought the car after three summers of flipping hamburgers and selling my grandmother's '79 Dodge Diplomat.

After the divorce, I found myself heavily in debt and without friends (those that didn't move away I lost during my six months in hell). So I sold everything except for my car, clothes and a very few momentos, and headed east. After spending a rather chilly winter on the road, I found myself in a small town in eastern WV.

I enrolled in a local college in the spring and by the next fall I had some acquaintances but not many. That fall is when all hell broke loose. First it was my car. I guess a little over 300,000 miles on a car does wear it out, but I never thought about it until I found out I was gonna need a new transmission. Only $1,200 I was quoted. Well, I didn't have that kind of money (the lawyers took most of the money from when I sold the house and the credit card companies took the rest), but luckily I lived on campus so I didn't have to walk far for my classes. But when I lost my transportation, I lost my job. I was working at a mall which was about 20 minutes away by car on the highway, no way in hell was I going to be able to walk, so I was "let go of." Well, that was ok I guess. more time to work on my studies right? And then something happened that changed my life.

One night I was walking back from the dining hall, contemplating ways to get my car fixed, when I saw through an open window that the television in the study room was tuned into a movie I rather fancy (Walking Across Egypt).

Since it was chilly and I was tired of walking I popped in to watch. The room was empty except for a guy hunched over some books at the other end of the room. I didn't really pay attention to him as my eyes were glued to the TV. (well, actually I wasn't paying attention what was going on in the movie I was thinking about the actor on the screen.) I had already seen the movie about a zillion times so when it got to a slow part I took notice of the guy.

He was hot and as I took more notice, he was stroking himself under the table. He was kinda small, about 160lbs or so. He had the kind of black short & spiky hair and big brown doe eyes that make me melt. He even had the type of skin that tanned easily and was always a shade darker than anyone else's. I found out later he was only 5'4", a whole foot shorter than me. He was wearing a bright read sweater that sort of hugged his skin and a pair of baggie khaki cutt-offs that had seen better days. I couldn't tell how big his package was since he was sitting at a table, but I was sure he was at least average (6") if not more.

I guess this is where I could introduce me. I have blonde hair that is usually a little on the shaggy side. My eyes are usually blue although they sometimes change depending on my mood or what clothes I am wearing. I was wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a bulky emerald-green sweater. I had on my favorite, well worn pair of Vans. I am 21 years old, stand at 6'4" and weigh in at about 200#s, mostly muscle but I do think my hips are a little too wide.

So here I am sitting here staring at him when what does he do? He looks up at me!! Dammit, can this day get worse? Of all the times for me to be getting a woodie, I have to do it in front of this guy. All I needed at this point was for word to get out that there was a queer on campus. You see, when you live in a small backwoods sort of town, there isn't a lot of open-mindedness. So before the proverbial shit hit the fan, I decided to do something.

"Weren't you in my Astronomy class last semester?" I asked, know fully well that he wasn't.

"Uhm. noo.. this is my first semester."

"Oh well, sorry to disturb you. I noticed that you were studying."

"Yeah I got a big test coming up. But," he said while looking at his watch, "it is about time I had a break."

With that he closed his books and came over and sat on the other end of the couch. We got to talking. I found out his name was Josh and he was a Business Ed major (I was Science Ed). He lived here in Shaw Hall and I lived next door in Thatcher. We talked a little about classes and I gave him some pointers on what professors he should take. He mentioned my accent and I told him about my divorce and all that baloney that went with it. It seems we ran out of things to say, because at that point we sort of stopped talking. After a few minutes Josh got back up, said something about going to his room and left.

Being as self-conscious as I am, I knew I had to have said or done something to screw things up. But going over our conversation I couldn't think of anything. I wanted to talk to him some more so I could ask if I did anything wrong, but all I knew was his first name and that he lived in this building. That is when I saw that in his haste to leave he had left his books behind. Being the perfect gentleman I am (ok.. quit laughing) I looked through his stuff and found out his last name. I looked it up in the directory and found out he lived in 306. I went up to his room and knocked, but there was no answer. I took a sheet of paper out of his notebook and was writing a note telling him I brought up his books and was going to leave my phone number in case he wanted to talk some more when he walked out of the bathroom. (you see these dorms have three wings with about 20 rooms on each wing, all sharing the same bathroom)

He opened his door as I was explaining why I brought the books up (you know someone could steal them). And he invited me in. GOD ALMIGHTY he had a SINGLE!!! How was it that this first semester student had a single and I, who is in my seventh semester, still had a roomie?? I commented on it and he gave a vague answer about medical problems or something like that not really answering the question. We talked a little more, ok actually I talked, he mostly listened. Again I was starting to get self conscious, this time about doing all the talking, so I gave him my number and told him to call me if he wanted to hang out sometime.

I wish I could say that something magical happened that night, but that was it. I went back to my room, talked with my roomie and eventually fell asleep. The next day was Monday (again??!! I hate Mondays I wish they would just get rid of them) and I fell back into my routine of going to classes, pretending to study, and looking for a job. I really wasn't successful in the first two. I kinda overslept a couple of days and missed a few of my classes and I never was good at studying, but I did find a job. It was being a teacher's assistant to a CIS professor.

It wasn't too bad. I only had one class he needed my help with (on Monday nights no less!) and since it was Wednesday when I was hired I didn't really have to start until the next week. I was allotted 25 work hours a week from financial aid, and the professor didn't care that I lied about the other 22 hours as long as I showed up at class (after all he wasn't paying for it). Pretty sweet... do three hours of work and get paid for 25.

Anyhow that week went by rather boringly. Monday came again (I am going to kill whoever invented the 5 day work week) and I showed up for the class. My first duty was to take roll. Let's see, Jaime Armbruster. here. Nick Berger. here. Josh Longfellow? My Josh from the other night? Well, he wasn't here so on to Amanda Dillion. and on and on and on. A total of 43 students. Took me fifteen minutes to do the role as the teacher started on the lesson.

"Running a little late, Longfellow?" the professor asked as Josh walked in the door. It was him. I knew it. now I am screwed. how could I work with the object of my desire in the same room? It really wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. He ignored me and I went about my duties grading assignments and helping out when there got to be too many problems for the professor to handle at once.

All in all I was kept busy and the three hours seemed to fly by. There were some attractive people in the room, Jaime with her too short skirt, and Nick with his tight ribbed tee-shirt (oh in case you haven't noticed I am attracted to both sexes.) So I was able to concentrate on other people when I was awaiting my next duty.

Well a few weeks went by and I finally had enough to pay part cash, part credit on the repairs of my car. Woo hoo. just in time for Thanksgiving break!! At least I won't be stuck on campus all week.

Josh didn't show up for the next two classes and I eventually quit thinking about him. That weekend I had my car back and I was out enjoying the hum of my motor and the squeal of my tires. when goddamit I blew one... a tire that is. Seeing as how I never bothered to check the spare, I wasn't too surprised to find it flat too, just pissed off. So here I am out in the middle of nowhere with a flat.

So guess what, I have walk again. dammit dammit dammit. First, as you know, I hate walking. Second, I really hate to leave my car out here... vandals and all. But I can't just stay here. So I begin my long trek into town. I am maybe about two miles from my car when the best thing I have seen pulls up behind me. It is an old beat up Jaguar XKE (you know from the song, Deadman's Curve). OMG.. there is only one thing I love better than a Mercedes and that is a Jag. Well, anyways the window is rolled down and I am asked if I could use a ride. That is when I see him... Josh... he is driving this car. I almost literally piss my pants. I mean here is the person of my dreams driving the car of my dreams.

So of course I hop in. I notice that the back seat is filled with clothing and books and stuff and I told Josh that it looks like he is moving.

"Well. I decided that college isn't worth it and I am going to move in with a cousin until I get enough money to move out of here."

WHAT?? Josh is leaving?? I know I quit consciously thinking about him but sub-consciously this boy never left my thoughts.

"Why?"

"It's a long story and I don't want to bore you with it."

"Well, we have a long drive ahead, go ahead and tell me."

"What the hell, it's not like I am gonna see you again." and Josh goes on to explain that he is gay and that was the reason why he didn't have a roommate and no one was nice to him and all the usual whininess about gays being banished from the earth and whatnot.

"Josh you are crazy, that is no reason to quit college. Besides I know there are people that like you and would be your friend if you let them."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"Me."

Oh that was the wrong thing to say. Josh turned to me stunned and was about to say something when the car skidded off the road and into a ditch. I must be bad luck or something.

"Fuck... now what am I supposed to do?"

"I guess we walk," I reluctantly said. Thinking how funny it would seem to someone to see both a Mercedes and a Jaguar broke down on the same stretch of road.

"No not about the car... about you."

"What?" WHAT?? What does he mean what is he supposed to do about me? Oh god is he a sociopath who is gonna kill me now or something??

"I can't be your friend Nate. Your part of the reason why I am leaving."

"Whoah, wait a minute, what are you talking about? What did I do to you?"

"It's not what you did to me, exactly. It's what I want you to do to me. Why do you think I have been avoiding you? I can't stand to be in the same room with you. To see you and know you are there and yet you are so out of reach for me."

"Out of reach?? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I am the one who gave you my telephone number, remember? You're the one who never called. And what do you mean what you want me to do to you?"

"NATE! I told you I am gay!"

"So you want me to fuck you? Is that what this is all about?"

"What else is there? I mean I would like to have more than just a fuck, but you are straight, so even asking for that would be too much."

"Josh, I never told you I was straight. I told you I was divorced. Yes, I was married to a woman. Yes, I loved a woman. But that does not mean I can't love a man. See, that is one thing you took for granted. You and everyone else. I don't go into relationships for sex. I go into relationships to have a relationship. I don't care if it is man or woman. The sex of the person does not matter."

"You mean your..."

"Yes Josh, I'm bi. You would have found that out if you would have talked to me some more."

And with that I began to storm off, leaving Josh standing there staring. It could have been the stupidest thing I had ever done, but then again maybe it was the smartest.