Legal: Don't read this if it offends you, or there are laws in your area that prohibit reading/viewing homosexually explicit material. This story is mostly fiction, and the likeliness of a character to a real person is strictly coincidence.
Do not copy/reproduce without the author's permission.
The Lacrosse Player
Chap. II
After Trevor had left my room, I set off on a run along the coast. He had told me to come over whenever I was ready, so I decided to mentally prepare by running. That does sound a bit weird:'mentally prepare', but I was working up confidence to either get my feelings out to him, or to find out where he stood.
The coastline was a great place to think. The Atlantic ocean was vast, and the horizon was uniterrupted. The waves crashed against the rocks, and the wind whistled through the grass. In the distance, from the northeast, a stormfront was brewing, and the sun reflecting against the clouds colored the whole region with a spray of oranges and reds. At my three mile turn around point, I could see Jack's cabin high on a hill side across the cape and wondered what he and Jacoby were doing. What the hell do straight men think about when they spent the night with each other? Is there any reason for straight men to spend the night together?
By the time I arrived back at the campus, dinner was about to be served for all those who chose to eat there. I ran upstairs and quickly changed into something nice, but not too nice to give away the idea I was trying to impress Trev. I walked across the hall, and walked through his unlocked door. Trev was leaning out the window, yelling to somebody walking down below. I crept up behind him and grabbed him by the legs.
"Dammit!" He yelled, smacking his head on the window jamb. "Hey man." He said, rubbing his head and turning around to me with a smile. "You ready to go to dinner?"
"Starving as usual."
We jumped into his Liberty and rode off to the coastline, to Meyler's, which was a lobster joint/bar that had a glassed in deck off the front. Pulling in, we saw there was a line that extended out the door.
"Shit." Trev said. "You want to wait or go into town to eat?"
"No, here's fine. What else are we gonna do?"
"True." He said, shutting off the car. We both jumped out, and he went in and put his name down on the waiting list. I jumped on a bench near the beach walkway after Smith, party of 2 had been seated. He came out and trotted over. "About 20 minutes."
"Good." We sat in silence for several seconds, before he started talking about FST math. Lightly listening to him, I slouched down a bit in my seat and brought my knee sevearl inches closer to him. Every couple seconds I moved closer, until finally, my knee lightly touched his. He paused for the slightest second, and kept on talking, keeping his knee in place. I looked up to the sky and sighed relief.
As he stopped, and the silence began to kill me, I noticed the sun shining on his jeep. "That's a great car, Trev."
"Yeah it is. My parents got it for me after we did so well last season."
"They must care a hell of a lot for you."
"Oh I know they do. They care. They know I'm a fine athlete, an even better student, and I've got lots of friends, but there's so much they just can't know that if they did, I probably wouldn't have that car. You following me?" He said, deeply exhaling.
"I follow you. But come on man, there can't be that much that I don't already know. I found out you put a picture of your grandpa, 'Rugby champion of the British Empire' under your heel, and keeps you moving on the field."
He laughed. "Could you imagine how dull a person I would be if that was my deepest secret?"
I chuckled with him. "Yeah, but you've got to admit, that is pretty damn cool."
"It's enough for me." He said, leaning back and pressing his knee into my leg.
"Corczynski, party of two." The PA system sounded.
'Damn,' I thought, 'that sounds good.'
We walked inside and were greeted by the giddiest waitress of all of the giddy waitresses, and she seated us on the deck.
Our deck table was in the corner, and we both faced the ocean, perpendicular to each other, and soon, we ordered our lobster. We chatted for a while, talking of school and home, but luckily, the conversation was void of the topic of girls.
"Your season is going real well man," I said, picking oyster crackers from the cup in the center of the table.
"Yeah it is. Coach is on my ass all the time though. He keeps saying I'm not putting in all my effort..but yet I come back to my room after practice and totally collapse. I haven't had time for homework, and haven't jacked off in a couple weeks."
I arched an eyebrow. "That's not healthy man. Not healthy at all. You know it's supposed to flush all the toxins out of your reproductive system?"
"You lie like a dog."
"Just reporting what I've heard."
"How are you able to do it? I can't use the school's computers, and the few TVs available only get what the antennae picks up."
"Oh, I've got my ways, I said, watching the waitress walk through the dining room with our food."
"Well one of these days, I'm going to have to borrow one of these 'ways'."
As he finished his sentence, I nearly choked on the oyster crackers, and downed half my coke to clear my throat. Had he seen the magazine?
As we watched the storm roll in, and our food was served, several key words caught my attention, and the television in the bar seemed to grow louder than the music playing through the sound system.
"Gay marriage....New issues..legal system.."
I looked up slowly, and his head came up several seconds later.
"What do you think about that stuff?" He asked me. "You big Republican you."
I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "Well...I guess my parents brought me to the academy not on religous terms, but more of the idea of searching for a better education in a school with morals...so religion hasn't had an impact on my view of gays..since that is what is fueling the issue. I say let them have it. Sancity of marriage my ass." I cringed on the word 'them', feeling the harshness of alienating myself from that group. "What do you think?"
He looked out the window and sipped on his Coke. "It doesn't matter to me."
"No opinions about it?" I asked leaning across the table.
"Not really. I know my parents hate the idea...I just try to play it off like I do too, but really, I don't care." Well, at least he felt that way about it. Little sublties like that here and there was exactly what I needed. "Are the city courts still open?" He asked.
"Tennis courts??" I asked.
"Yeah..I thought you could teach me a little bit before we went back to the dorm."
"Sure..I've got the code for the lockers..and two or three tennis rackets in there."
"What do you say?" He asked, breaking out his wallet as the waitress came with our check.
"Why not man. Like I said before, what in the hell else are we going to do?"
We paid for dinner and drove farther down the coast to the community tennis courts. The place was getting ready to close as we walked in, but the attendant was a friend of mine, and he knew I'd lock the doors when I left.
Luckily, I had a pair of tennis shoes for him to replace his sandals. We still didn't look ready to play...but we did...oxfords, chinos and all.
We strolled out onto the court as the thunderheads boomed in the distance. I eased through all the positions of playing, forehand, backhand, and volley. We did slow and easy play for a half hour. He struggled through them. He complained it was because I was a lefty..and of course I generously agreed, nodding my head in knowing.
We volleyed back and forth, our grunts bouncing off the chain link fences, the screeches of our shoes echoing through the air. We played until our faces were drenched with sweat, and our eyes stung with salt. I was dead tired...and the lobster in our stomachs was not helping at all.
As we were close to ending, a monsoon started. The rain poured, and poured, and drenched our clothes with sea water. We stopped moving, and the tennis ball bounced off to the edge of the court. We looked straight at each other, our eyes locking once again, and his face broke into a smile, and he began to laugh. He laughed so hard, his tears pushed away the sweat.
His short hair was falling on his forehead and his eyes were gleaming like Bermuda water. We slowly walked toward the net and put our heads together, grabbing each other by the back of the neck. We jogged inside, stil laughing, and as uncomfortable as we were, managed to change back into our regular shoes.
With the storm drawing even closer, we drove back up to the campus, hoping that we could make it before they called curfew. All the way there, he ranted about how much damn fun we were having, and how sorry we looked on the court. I couldn't help but laugh. It was good too see him in this mood...it got his mind off how much lacrosse seemingly 'meant'to him. He even turned his 'XM' radio that he listened to constantly (his idea: if he's going to pay for it, he's going to damn well use it) just for the sake of us chatting. Did I see what I thought I saw in this kid? If I was going to guess..I definitely needed to be a little more sure of myself first.
As we arrived back on campus, the rain had increased to an incredible tempo, and we took on a mad dash toward the door. We quietly climbed the stairs and entered his dorm. After settling in, we walked around the building for a while, and stopped to talk to a few guys who had just got done swimming in the pool that evening. Needless to say, these guys kept up all the talking, and I just looked on..I noticed that Trev didn't say a lot either. There's definitely something about wet guys..their hair in messy forms, their leg hairs plastered to their legs, their muscles tightly clenching to their bodies. I could stare at it all day.
After having that chat, we went back up to his room, and in less than an hour, we were both laid out, and Trevor was dead asleep.
Trev's dorm was in a different configuration than mine, and instead of having a bunk bed, the upper bed was dismounted, and the two sat side by side, with the window between them. He had grabbed several blankets for me, and I slept on Jack's comforter, not knowing what lay in the sheets...although....it wouldn't have bothered me.
I laid awake for an hour, listening to the rain patter on the roof. Trev's comforter had fallen off, revealing his smooth body outlined with the thin sheets. I stared at him for the longest time, taking his beautiful body in, my hands moving farther down my chest with every minute I viewed him. I decided I couldn't take just looking anymore, and taking the extreme risk of him waking, I jumped out of bed and shuffled across the cold floor. I stood above him, and then kneeled on one knee, running my hands less than a centimeter from his outline. Carefully, I grabbed the outline of his sheets, and pulled them as slowly as I could across his body, the fabric gliding across his smooth, bare skin. I set my hand down on his waist, and moved across his chest, carefully feeling out every bump and ridge, every ab and every bit of the muscle in between.
We had seen each other naked several times before, and I tried to refrain from gawking, but did it anyway. He, like me, had managed to remain smooth, and without hair, the muscles shone beautifully underneath his copper skin. Yes, we knew what one another looked like underneath...but never had the chance to feel what it was like, never had the chance to experience what it was like to hold and have someone so close.
The whole concept of phsyical sex was new to me. Of course, I'd been with at least one girl before, but those relationships never extended any farther than midnight make-out sessions on the pier. I guess I did it for them, because I never welcomed the experiences.
Suddenly, I jumped back. What the hell was I doing? I was in a Catholic boys school. I could be smited to hell if he awoke, or someone was to crash through the door.
But then again....God decided I was to be this way didn't he? It would be wrong not to follow his plan.
With this thought reassuring me, I continued moving across his chest, and even propped myself up on the bed. Suddenly, he stirred, and flipped himself over, continued his heavy breathing. There, in front of me, was possibly the best ass I'd ever seen. Everyone knows what the perfect ass looks like. It's got the perfect curves, doesn't hang, and has the ability to make clothing form perfectly to it. His boxers were already partially off from his movement, and I brought my hand down his back, making sure to cover every curve as if it was a vital key. The tips of my fingers ran along the crest of his boxers, and my hand slowly slipped in, feeling the rock hard muscles that produced this perfect ass. That almost sent me over the edge. Feeling the sensation riddle through my body, I brought my hand down and lightly ran down the tip of my shaft. That's all it took, and I shot onto the side of his bed, burying my face in his side as I did. I slowly raised myself up, and cleaned up a bit of my mess that was dripping from the bedframe. As I was doing so, He slowly turned over and sat up. I fell to the floor, and pushed myself as far as I could under his bed. His feet hit the floor, and he leaned over to the window, and slammed it shut. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He pulled himself back into bed and pulled his covers back over.
"Evan?" He asked...probably noticing there was no one in my bed.
I contemplated saying something, but waited, and soon, he fell back asleep.
I slowly climbed up, and stood over him again. I ran my hand once through his hair, and shuffled back over to my bed.
As I climbed in and laid there, I watched him toss and turn. 'Someday' I thought.
I slowly fell back asleep and listened to the rain. I thought of what I could do to finally close the mystery between Trev and I. Suddenly, the thought of Jacoby and Jack game to my mind...and I thought of my parent's beach house in Maine. As I drifted asleep, I mentally began to clear next weekend's schedule.
To be continued
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