Disclaimer: Story characters belong to the author, any resemblances to real people are entirely coincidental.
Content Advisory: Adult situations, language, sexual references
Copyright, 2010, Anyta Sunday
I hope you enjoy it. Please comment to: anytasunday@gmail.com
This story will continue to be posted on Nifty. It is COMPLETED, however, and can be found also at http://www.gayauthors.org/story/anytasunday/shaneandtrey
Also, St-st-stuffed (following Karl and Paul from this story is just completed and can be found at http://www.gayauthors.org/story/anytasunday/st-st-stuffed )
Chapter Thirteen
I clapped the phone shut, Dad's first words still ringing in my ears. How's my son? Living up Saturday night, drunk and partying? And then his laugh. Raucous. Like a freaking bad omen. I shivered--couldn't help it, and sat on the end of my bed where I'd wandered during the two minutes and twenty-nine seconds we'd spoken.
Trey stared at me, brows furrowed together, his mouth a straight line. Was he waiting for me to say something? And what? Yeah, that was my dad, we don't get on, but you probably heard that in my tone, anyway, let's not talk about it. I reached over and slammed the cell on my bedside table. Stupid phone. Stupid me for not having looked at the caller ID. Damn, what a way to ruin the mood.
Trey sighed and propped himself on one elbow on his side. "You can't choose 'em. Eh?"
I mirrored his sigh, but just the way he'd said that--that touch of humor to lighten things up--it was like he knew exactly how to calm me down. The corner of my lips twitched. "If only."
His eyes softened before his lips corresponded in a smile. "But you know who you can choose." He beckoned me over. (Which was hardly necessary, as soon as the words had slipped from his tongue, I was on my way).
Like I'd wanted to do for soooo long, I pounced onto the mass of pillows next to Trey. He looked startled a moment before cracking up. "Fuck, for a second I thought you were doing some type of wrestling move."
I grinned. "I was, but to the pillows. Be pretty stupid of me to do it to you. I may not be great at math, but I know my chances at survival."
That had him laughing louder. How wonderful it was to hear: boisterous, unrestrained, hearty. Quite fulfilling--quite? No, more than that, incredibly. And just like that Dad drowned from my mind. Everything, except for Trey simply vanished. Didn't matter.
Lightly, I touched his chest and felt his laugh as it bubbled underneath my hand. It spread through me, highly infectious, until I was laughing too. We didn't stop, even when we'd forgotten what was funny and stomach muscles hurt and limbs convulsed. It just felt so good. Every bout seemed to reflect our excitement and nervousness, and cracked through any awkwardness we had being together.
So. Fucking. Fine.
Only when someone banged on the wall next to us, did we try--yes, emphasis on try--to calm down. It took us a bit, and we used the pillows to quell the sounds. By the time the last chuckles left us, we were drained of energy.
Trey pulled at the blankets until he'd ripped them from under us. "Get those jeans off, babe. I wanna sleep, but I want you right where you are."
I woke up early the next morning. Well, early for a Sunday. (It was seven). I stretched, carefully moving so as not to wake Trey. Almost the entire night he'd spooned me--a cacoon of warmth. Until a half an hour before, when he'd mumbled something and switched sides. Maybe the loss was what had woken me.
I stared at a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, and couldn't help but think sticky. Sticky in a good sense--like being entangled in Trey's arms and not wanting the chance to escape, like being so high on thoughts I couldn't make beginning or ends of them, and--yeah--sticky like how I felt after thinking of him and jacking off.
Then there was the other sticky--I had to tell June, and I didn't want to hurt her.
Lifting the corner of the blanket, I shimmied out of bed, and crept out of the room to the bathroom. After I'd relieved myself and began to head back, a sudden thought halted me. Today was Sunday. No classes. No plans. Just a whole day, me and Trey. What would we do? Should we plan something together? Or should I surprise him somehow? Was this like the first official date? What were we meant to do together? And shit, whatever it was, let it start now!
I paced the hall a few times, coming up with a `to do' list. It might not have been necessary to have the day planned out. But it sure made me feel less nervous knowing what would happen next.
Inside the room, Trey sat in his bed, a bit put-out, if I read his expression correctly.
"You alright?" I asked.
Trey swept a hand across the side of the bed I'd slept in. "It's not the way I wanted to wake up. I was sort of hoping for a repeat of yesterday." He cocked his head. "That was fun."
"Well," I said, pulling out some running shorts and a t-shirt. "I've got plenty of other fun things we could do. But first, get outta bed and get ready to go for a run."
"Ohhh, that does sound good, especially the part where we shower together after."
I threw the t-shirt I was about to put on at him. "Like to see you handle that temptation. `cause remember, no touching." Yet. Not until after I spoke with June. Tomorrow.
"So long as we can make out, I'll be fine."
Ha-ha, yeah right. After the run, we attempted to shower together, but twenty seconds in, it was obvious the plan was flawed. Like seriously. "Okay, Shane, you win." With a tight jaw and tight something else, he moved into the next cubicle.
Finally I got out of the shower (I was warm-water hog, given the chance, I'd stay in one until I was wrinkly.) With towels wrapped around our waists we headed back to the room, me walking slightly behind Trey. I mean, help the view was hot.
Trey--on purpose, I was positive--stopped suddenly. I banged into him. The impact pleasant, the tease agonizing, but--ahhhh--my towel was slipping. And in the middle of the freaking hall, thank God most people still slept at this hour. Trey chuckled as I fumbled for a grip.
Once inside our room, I ripped it off completely, and whipped Trey's way-too-hot-to-be-real-ass.
"Oh, so that's your form of punishment? I just might have to be naughty more often!"
Naughty? Too cute! We both dressed quickly, grinning something stupid. I loved it. Once we were done, I grabbed my car keys and tugged Trey out the door.
We drove for about ten minutes, before arriving at an abandoned warehouse parking lot. Trey had tried to get me to tell him where we were going, but--ha!--this was my surprise. I stopped the car in the middle of the huge concrete expanse, got out and opened Trey's door. His face was hilarious, a combination of what the fuck are we doing here? and is it gonna be kinky?
I shook my head, biting back a laugh. "Get out." He did, and I jailed him--as much as I could (obviously he could get away)--one arm either side clutching the car roof. Then on the tip of my toes I leaned into him until he gasped. A hairs breadth of kissing him, I ran a tongue over my bottom lip, ever-so-slightly touching his at the same time.
I reached into my pocket jammed between us, knowing what the pressure was doing to him, and loving it.
"Oh, fuck me," he groaned.
"Not today." I withdrew the keys, and pressed them into his chest. "First date--driving lesson."
Once we were both in the car I explained--although theoretically he knew--the mechanics of a stick. Easy on the clutch, slow release, light pressure on the gas. He stalled the first couple of tries at starting. "Wish you had an automatic about now," Trey muttered, trying (and succeeding) again.
"Yeah, well, when I bought my car, Dad only chipped in on the condition I got a manual. Said if I can drive this, I can drive anything."
Trey, nervous to look from the barren lot we were crawling across, glanced in my direction. "Did he teach you?"
"Yup, but don't worry. I'm not going to use his methods."
I cringed, remembering...What? Are you a complete idiot? Do it again. We're not leaving here, till you do. Hours it took me to get it right, hours of holding back my tears, knowing they'd only make it worse.
The clucking of Trey's tongue zapped me back to the moment. I placed a hand atop of his on the stick. More for my own comfort than the demonstration. "Now, when you press the clutch again, you're going to pull this into second. Smoothly does it, yeah. Good. Now just take your time coming off."
The transition was pretty good, and before long Trey seemed pretty comfortable rolling around the parking lot in large circles.
"Wish I'd gone to your high school. Might have had more reason to learn this earlier if it wasn't a two minute walk from my house."
His face had been flushed most of the drive now, and I sensed his embarrassment. Ignoring it (because I thought that nicest) I urged him to try third gear. The parking lot adjoined two others, so we had enough space to move at street speed. After an hour, I had Trey using the gears to brake, and certain landmarks we used as traffic lights, where he'd come to a complete stop before starting again.
"You're a quick learner," I said, impressed at Trey's growing confidence.
"Huh! Here it's okay. But out there," he shook a finger toward the street, "that's going to be another story."
"Well, I wish I could help you out there, but it'd be against the law. First you need to get your learner's permit--"
"Already got one. I've done the theoretical test. I just haven't had any practical lessons," he grinned, "until now that is."
"What stopped you from doing it earlier?"
Trey slowed down, changing gears smoothly. "James left for Europe. Only one willing, and over twenty-one that wanted to do it. As I said, I should have learned as soon as I turned seventeen."
I wanted to know why his parents hadn't taught him, but the edge in his voice warned me not to. Instead I studied his profile, wondering if I closed my eyes I could recreate it. Abruptly, Trey stopped the car, the belts tightened against us. Bit of a rough one, definitely need more practice there. Trey swiveled in the chair, unbuckling his belt.
"Had enough?" I asked. Certainly wasn't going to push him. Not like... Anyway, we'd been at it long enough.
"Not exactly," he said, expertly moving his giant limbs over to my side. "But if I don't kiss you right now, I think I might, I dunno, implode or something." Wow! That'd been unexpected and my-oh-my could he surprise me like this any time! "I enjoyed that," he said, in-between kisses, "really enjoyed that. It" kiss "ah...means" another kiss "a lot to me" deeper kiss "that you brought me here," soft kiss, and leaning back "and showed me this."
You are welcome, oh-so-so welcome.
He opened the passenger door and clambered out awkwardly.
"Now let's head back. I want to get us some lunch."
After a wonderful lunch of chicken burgers, onion rings, and salad--yeah, Trey insisted on that last one--we spent a lazy afternoon playing video games and watching, much to my delight, the Princess Bride! With a very promising french kiss, I even bribed him into letting me read his review. It's a swash-buckler. Go Westley! Go Buttercup! Cheeky and fun, this romance, action, fantasy is a must see. Five stars.
Once it was over we rhymed silly sentences until dinner (the rest of the salad from lunch). The remainder of the evening we blobbed out watching star wars, of which we managed four, before falling asleep in each other's arms.
Monday morning met me with a bit more than a seed of anticipation. The weekend had been a dream, but today was back to reality. We both had classes to attend, study to do, and--I drew a deep breath--there was June to talk to.
I was dressed and ready to leave for my first class when Trey's alarm went off. He slapped a palm over it. I chuckled that sound waking him more effectively it seemed.
"Hey, you off already?"
"Yup. Linguistics. Have a busy day."
He yawned. "Me too. When will I see you again, babe?"
"I finish at four. I promised to meet June at six."
"Blah, I have classes until then."
I walked over to him. "Well, tonight, I guess."
He stayed quiet a moment, then, almost as if he didn't want me to hear it, said under his breath, "hopefully."
I didn't like how that sounded, the way I felt cold inside. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Yanking off the covers, he got up, searching for clothes to put on. "Look. We've avoided talking about the issue all weekend, but I'm sure it's been on both our minds." He met my gaze for a brief moment before pulling on a t-shirt. "I know I come second--ah--well, after June. So if it comes to her asking you to make a choice, I know--and it should be her. But, man, just thinking about that sucks. Bad." Hurriedly, he yanked down his boxer-briefs and stepped into fresh ones. "I can't say I'm going to accept that so well." He came up to me, digging fingers into my arms. "It sort of makes me want to keep you from seeing her," he said in my ear. Then sighed, and moved to put on his jeans. "I--I just like this bubble we have right now."
I gulped. Me too. And it wasn't only Trey with insecurities about tonight. I had my own, and bad. Because, although rationally I knew I'd done nothing wrong, I still felt terrible for my sister. And like Trey, I really, really didn't want her asking me to choose between them.
Six o'clock sharp, I knocked on June's door. With a yank it opened, and a whoosh of air greeted me. Roommate Sara braced herself against the frame chewing loudly on a piece of gum. "You June's bro?"
I didn't like the way her gaze wandered--inched? over me. A touch more subtlety and I wouldn't have minded. Quickly nodding, I peered into the room looking for any sign of rescue. "Ah, where's June?"
"Here," came my sister's voice from behind me. Thank God. "Let me just dump this." She pointed to her fat bag, seams almost bursting, and sidled into the room.
Sara leaned toward me. Would it be rude to step back? Trailing a finger over my arm she flashed her pearly teeth. "You're hot."
Ahhhh. I glanced at June, standing behind her, obviously ready to leave, but giggling instead. So nice it was to see her smiling, it made me less uncomfortable under Sara's heated gaze, and more appreciative.
Thankfully though, June snuck between Sara and I, just as her chewing mouth moved closer.
"See you!" I said over my shoulder, relieved to be free.
June shook her head and her lips quirked, as I shuddered. "She's not that bad. A bit direct maybe, but nice enough."
"A bit direct?"
"Okay, a lot, but she's alright." Her smile widened, and with it my belly flipped. Remember what tonight's about. A queasy feeling rose and fell between my stomach and throat. I slowed my step, as if that would miraculously make it better.
I could only imagine I'd gone pale and sickly looking, which would explain why June's smile now dwindled. She opened the main doors and we cut through the crisp fall air to a Chinese takeaway joint around the corner.
"Strange thing," June zipped up her top, "Dad rang this weekend." Her voice was cautious, and soft, as if nervous of my reaction.
I shivered. "Called me, too. I don't understand it. He usually only rings on birthdays or Christmas." I kicked a chunk of red and amber leaves in front of me. "At least then I'm prepared for it. But this was so out of the blue. He didn't have to remind me we'd be meeting this weekend. Hardly could forget that." I wished there were more leaves to kick, instead I settled on quickening my pace. "Don't see why he didn't just call Mom to double check."
June linked her arm through mine, slowing me slightly. "I don't know why he rang. But... well..." A thoughtful expression set on her face. What was she thinking?
"But, what?" I asked.
"Well, I've thought about it a bit, and--what if he misses us, Shane?"
I laughed dryly. "You're not serious."
"I am. I'm not saying he hasn't been a prick"--I almost tripped hearing that word fly out of my sister's mouth, it was totally unexpected, and yet to a tee accurate--"But this whole wanting to give us money thing. Maybe he realizes we're not kids anymore. That soon we'll have no obligation to see him or even talk to him. It could be it makes him sad."
I shook my head. "I don't believe that."
"You are very harsh on him sometimes."
I stopped mid-step, pulling away from her. Me? I was the harsh one? How could she say that?
June sighed. "It's just, he's not all bad. He has issues, sure--"
"You didn't get treated the way I did." I heard the hurt in my voice, and tried (but failed) to mask it. "It was easier for you. You did everything right."
She shuffled from foot to foot, and after a moment shrugged. "You're right of course. I just--what if he's sorry? If he wants to change? Would you forgive him and move on?"
Change? Would he want to? More to the point, could he? Even in the last conversation he'd had a way to make me feel bad. No. This wasn't about him wanting a second chance with us. Absolutely not. And even if it were, forgive him? Hell, no.
"Just think about it," June finished, and continued walking toward the bright neon sign ahead.
Once we'd ordered and got our food, we found a bench in front of the campus clock tower. Iron wrought lampposts shed a warm light over us as we unpacked our dinner.
"Darn it," June said, scowling at two sets of chopsticks. "They forgot to give us plastic forks."
Setting our fried noodles between us, I pushed back June's earlier words and concentrated on the reason we were meeting. And what had hovered over me for days. Where should I start? How? What should I--How did I say I'd fallen for her ex-boyfriend? How could I limit her hurt, her anger? Did I even have a right to? Shiiiit.
The chopsticks slipped between my sweaty, nervous, fingers. I wasn't the only one having trouble. One of June's landed on the ground. I picked it up and handed her one of mine.
Noodles slid down my throat, but although they were warm and filled with msg's, I couldn't enjoy it. Eating was just a way to prolong--to procrastinate. Just tell her!
June carefully brought a noodle wound around her sticks toward her mouth, but it was fast uncurling and--splat--it landed on the bench. She picked it up and threw it into the bin on her other side.
"If you hold them just a little lower," I said, showing her my grip on the chopsticks, "you'll have more control."
She copied my hold and tried again. It wasn't perfect but it was better. We ate in silence for a bit. I kept taking in large amounts of air, readying myself to say something, but each time my nerve deflated.
"We need to talk--" we said it at the same time. A bizarre moment. Like we had twin telepathy or something. Any other time we might--probably would have laughed, but this time it was as if we both knew the seriousness of what we'd say next.
"Go ahead," June said, her hand shakily lifting food to her mouth.
I couldn't do this--couldn't say it, hear the words, see her face. But I had to, and I would. I ground my jaw together and focused just past her right shoulder. "June, I--" Just tell her. She deserves the truth. "It's about Trey."
She leaned back against the bench, twisting her torso--squirming. Uncomfortable or nervous? Both was my bet. "I think I know," she said quietly. "But I'm ready to hear it now, tell me."
A glance at her sad face almost shattered me completely. How could I have done this?
"Tell me, Shane."
After a short hesitation where I felt as if I'd been hollowed out, I spoke. Low. "I like him. A lot. We--ah--like each other." Silence. Had she even heard me?
"How long?" Her voice wavered, but she quickly got it under control. "How long have you felt like this?"
"Since rooming with him." Defensiveness sucked onto me, I was worried she'd hate me. I couldn't keep a level head. "I tried to get over it, I did. But it wouldn't go away. My feelings just got stronger. I didn't do anything, not a thing I swear, until well after you'd broken up. And I'm so sorry it hurts you June, I know this is fucked up, and--"
She halted me, raising a hand. I knew the gesture so well. Just stop a second, it said. Slowly, she picked up her chopsticks again, pinching food between them. I could almost see her thoughts tumbling around, knew from the way her lip shook she was hurting. "Have you two done anything?" The strained words, her uncertainty at asking at all--I wanted to melt, to disappear.
"Nothing, really."
Her noodles slipped again. She threw her sticks down. "Nothing, really? What does that mean?"
"We've kissed. That's--" all. A sob erupted from her and before I could see it happen, she'd picked up the rest of our dinner and dumped it over my head. In shock I sat there a moment as she leapt from the bench.
Then, things clicking into place, I grabbed the packet and scooped the majority of noodles off my hair, chucking them into the bin. I caught up to her. She was sobbing so hard I instinctively pulled her into an embrace, smooshing noodles between us. "I'm so sorry, June, I--I'm just so sorry."
She cried a bit longer against my shoulder and then wiped her runny nose on my sleeve. "I'm sorry too. I thought I'd handle it better than that. I just--I guess I wasn't prepared for it. Even though I knew Trey liked you."
I picked the larger chunks of food off her, not knowing what else to say. Fear clawed into me, so strong I wasn't sure I wouldn't throw up. June meant everything to me. She'd always been there. Came to all my hockey games and cheered me on. Helped me study for chemistry and physics--my worst subjects by far. Never laughed at me when I made a fool of myself--yeah, she always showed her compassion. Was never swayed by other's judgments. She accepted me for who I was. Was there after Ryan for the weeks when I'd felt down.
And then there was Trey. How his thick brown lashes and deep eyes looked into mine, caring, curious, protective. Just being around him was better than touching music. Surreal. Wonderful. What I'd have wished for everyday, if I'd have known such a thing--an amazing thing--existed. Around him my heart beat a million miles a minute.
Don't ask me to stop this thing with Trey. Don't ask me to do that. I didn't want to have to make that decision--because it might, no, it would--be the one thing I couldn't do for her.
She began walking, and I remained at her side, every step I felt more numb, waiting for what she'd say next.
"There were clues you know," she said, fiddling with her zipper. "I don't know why I didn't pick up on them sooner. Ever since the day you came out at the pool he'd been different. Hadn't--couldn't really touch me. And when we broke up, he said he'd had thoughts about a guy. He kept apologizing for it, but that he couldn't help it. When I asked him if you were the type of guy he would be interested in..." June shut her eyes, a sad smile cornering her lips. "That's when I knew. Knew it was you he'd been had been apologizing for thinking about. It was the way he said "Yes". His eyes glazed over, he smiled--beamed. There was something in his expression he'd never had with me before. It hurt so bad to see it."
Her voice cracked, I wished to comfort her. Do--say something to make her better. How could I, though, when I was the cause of her pain? I didn't want to rub it in, make it worse for her. I wanted to show her how much I loved her, but knew in this moment it'd only make it worse. She needed to hate me right now. Needed to be allowed--have reason to be upset. And that was fine. Just please don't ask me to end it.
I widened the distance between us, hoping it helped--gave her room to be angry. I braced myself for what would come next. But she surprised me. "Shane, I'm sorry for covering you in noodles."
Help! What? And why on Earth was she sorry for that?
"I hate my reactions right now. Hate feeling like this."
I stopped her from moving and faced her. "How do you feel, June? Let it out." Even though it was at my request, I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer. My stomach tightened.
"Like I want to hurt you back," she said--cried? slapping her hand against my chest. "Like I want to, I don't know--yell at you, and take away something important from you so you know how it feels." She looked up at me, tears training down her flushed cheeks. "But I hate feeling like that. I hate that the desire to do that crossed my mind. I'm sorry."
"Hey, hey, you don't have to be sorry. You're allowed to feel this way. It's me that should be sorry. Me." Which was the honest truth. And I did feel sorry things had gotten so complicated, that my feelings for Trey were now so deep inside me I wouldn't be able to extract them without getting sick. Just the thought made me shake, made me cold, made me start to cry.
Bowing her head, she sighed. "It's not anyone's fault, really. Feelings are feelings--you can't apologize for liking him."
A tiny bit of relief--hope lined my black fears silver. I suppressed a sob, and tried for humor, though it came out flat, tired. "Hypocrite. Then you can't be sorry for yours either."
Her head snapped up and she frowned. "Huh. Right." She picked a noodle or piece of broccoli off my shoulder and flicked it onto the path. "There is something that I can apologize for. Something definitely my fault." She wrapped her hands around herself.
Her fault? There she went again. I shook my head. "You've got to stop thinking that any of this is your fault. It's not. Don't blame yourself--"
"It wasn't a coincidence you're roomies," she said over me.
Slow, confused, I didn't immediately click onto what she was suggest--what?
She continued before I could speak, even though I had no idea what to say. "I opened up both your applications and put in a request to dorm with each other. I--I'm sorry, but I really wanted you to room together."
Finally, I found my voice. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She scuffed the side of her shoe over the path, studying it hard. "Well originally I knew you two didn't get on so well, I knew you wouldn't warm to the idea." She was right. Back then there was absolutely no way--"But I figured you'd get on alright once you lived together. I mean, I couldn't understand why you didn't like him. He was--is the sweetest guy."
She paused. A chilly breeze blew my sticky hair into my eyes and I wiped it away. "I thought about owning up to it that morning we received the post, confirming things. But your face whitened so bad, I--I just couldn't do it."
I swallowed. How did I feel about her confession? Shocked, yes. And if I'd been in normal mood, maybe a touch of sneaky!--I wasn't mad, far from it, just--just surprised she could have done something like that. And I didn't understand--"Why?" I cleared my throat. "Why did you want us to room together so bad?"
Without hesitation she answered. "Because I didn't want to miss us. I didn't want us to drift apart in college. Didn't want to lose what we had. At home it was easy to maintain, we were around each other all the time. I thought this way--thinking Trey and I would be together--I'd see you a lot. That there would be no room for excuses." She let the rest of her breath go. "I never thought we'd break up. Now we see each other even less."
I picked up her hand and squeezed it and then came in for a hug. A big, giant, all-consuming hug. We stayed that way for until both of us were so cold we began to shiver.
While we held each other, June reminisced. Reminding me of all the fun times and laughs we had together. "And after graduation? Sitting by the riverbank, singing, laughing. How you snuck us some booze, but doled it out to me, afraid I'd get drunk? You make me laugh. I love that you care."
I heard the silent plea that came with these stories: please don't let things change between us. Let us have things the way they were. Always.
I squeezed her with all I had. I want that too, you doofus. I love you. And perhaps not so clear to her, but it could be that way anyway. Don't ask me to choose between the two of you. When I let go, we said nothing for a moment. But the way June searched my face, I wonder if she hadn't understood me completely.
She gripped my arm. "I want you to know that I'll need time, but I'll be alright. About you and him, I mean. I--I just love you both. Want the best for you both. If each other is what makes that happen, then...I would never ask you to decide between us." She flashed me a shaky smile, and I could see the beginnings of tears rimming her eyes, but she held them back. "Be a good brother, walk me to my room?"
Elated. Sad. I hiccupped, and with it came a large uncontrolled sob. One pent up too long. Thank you. I tried to say the words, but they came out mangled. Their meaning, though, came through. I knew by the way she rubbed my back; by the way she cooed and said everything was going to be all right. We'll be fine!
Wiping my eyes with the back of my hands and breathing deeply, I sunk into an eerie calm. In it, I walked June back to her dorm.
She drew out her key, and attempted to lighten the mood. "Now get out of here, before Sara decides you coming back here means you're interested."
I responded to her efforts, exaggerating a step back away from the door, making her grin. I want us to be fine too. Have you always grinning. You're my beautiful sis.
She flicked her hand toward the exit. "Now scram."
I did. And then I went for a good long walk around campus, processing the evening. It was past midnight by the time I got back to the room. The lights were out and Trey's regular breaths told me he was asleep. Silently as I could--I didn't want to wake him up--I found a towel, my bathroom bag, and a clean pair of boxers.
I didn't know how long I stood under the streaming warm water (I did have a lot of noodles to deal with), but by the time I was out, dry and back in the room, I was even more overwhelmed, sad and happy, hollow and yet filled with butterflies. The contradiction didn't make sense. But that was just how it was. And the way they conflicted, well, my head was spinning faster than a spin top. Beat, I pulled back the bed sheets and was about to slip under them when--
"All good?" asked a sleepy Trey.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's going to be fine."
He lazily beckoned me with his hand flopped out of the bed. "Come in my bed." Just hearing his voice hit a spark inside me. It felt warm and comforting, even if demanding. Made me feel wanted--needed. And curling into him, sleeping beside him--my body itched to cover the few feet that separated us. Like a magnet pulled me. Only my head shouted a loud No! June was so upset that we'd just kissed--how would she react, knowing we would be so much closer? I paused, looking away from him to my empty bed.
But hadn't she also accepted my feelings for Trey? Though she spoke of hurt, she'd also spoken of wanting us to be happy. And right now, I wanted to be next to Trey. It was a feeling that no matter how hard I'd tried to rationalize, I couldn't. It just...was. And it makes me happy. Happier than happy. Happiest.
"Ass...here...now," Trey mumbled again. I smiled, and as I walked towards him, felt an easing of my spirit.
He shuffled back toward the wall to give me room, and once I was in he--eyes shut, and half asleep still--turned around, nestling his broad back and tight butt into me.
He pawed for my arm, and once he found it, tied it with his around his waist. My forehead between his shoulder blades, the pressure soothed me. Lightly, I kissed his back, and felt his miniscule hairs rise.
Needing to touch him more, I ran my fingers over his back and side. I just wanted him to feel--nice. He hmmmed a bit, but soon sleep robbed me of that sweetness. I shut my eyes wishing to float away too, but it didn't happen for the longest time. And when it finally did, I woke up too soon.
Trey wriggled--or maybe jerked. He felt all clammy, and he was sleep talking, mumbling something. I gripped his arm so he wouldn't elbow me again. "Hey, Trey. It's okay. It's just a dream."
But he didn't hear me, only thrashed harder. I climbed on top of him to pin him down, gently telling him over and over it was just a dream. Soon he calmed. Enough that I could let go and continue holding him. It was as I entwined my foot around his, that he whimpered something that had me holding my breath. "Didn't mean...push her."