Part XII
Duke stole my Cookie Monster Pajamas.
"What am I supposed to wear?" I groaned.
"I don't know. Why don't you prance around in your underwear like a queer?"
"That's not funny Duke. I'm getting tired of you ragging on me for not being as masculine as you. You are an outlier, not some kind of standard. But anyway, there's nothing wrong with girls. And there is nothing wrong with being similar to whatever your stereotypical notion of a girl is."
Duke snorted. "God, get off your high horse. Do you really think I don't like girly things? Vaginas are cool. I like cocksuckers too." He rubbed my hair. "Don't take things too seriously."
"Can you stop being ostentatious for two seconds?"
"How about you stop trying to change me, and I stop trying to change you, and we just enjoy the ride?"
I mumbled something, but even I wasn't sure what I was saying. He looked out the window and yawned, raising his arms into the air. The pajamas looked good on him, albeit a little short. Everything seemed to look good on him.
"Aren't you worried about Roy?" I asked. "He seemed a little shaken."
"He'll be okay, I think," Duke said. "Just let me talk to him a little."
I rinsed off in the shower, and then knotted up on the bed until my phone started buzzing.
<Come by Clarie's room. We're in a dogpile on her bed.>
<Gross.>
<Not like that, smutbrains. Anyway, Roy says he doesn't care about what he saw.>
I wasn't sure how much I trusted the words of either of them, but I figured it would be unproductive to tell them that.
So instead I sighed, flopped out of bed, and got dressed.
I didn't know which room was "Clarie's"—but it became obvious from the raucous laughter. I lingered in the doorway. I wasn't quite used to the grungy, flirty situations Duke so often put himself in, like when he was dancing in nothing but his boxer-briefs on the bar counter. I had just stood on the dance-floor gaping till I had the good sense to buy a coke. I preferred a more cultured setting; fine-dining was easy and enjoyable, and I was always a hit with Joey's parents.
I just didn't know what I was supposed to say if I was in a—dogpile—on some girl's bed.
"Get over here, pretty boy," Roy said. He raised his eyebrows.
I couldn't see much in his eyes, but I got the feeling that he was the kind of person who could tell a story and learn more from the reactions of those around him than anyone did about him. I wanted to keep an eye on him, but feared what he might see in me if I did.
I looked down instead.
"You sure you are not sick of me?" I asked.
"Shut up and get over here," Duke said.
I walked like I was floating; then, Duke pulled me in. My knees sunk into the bed and I crawled forward.
"We're all in our pajamas. It was awkward enough on the ride here with you in your fancy clothes and us in tank tops, but now it's just silly."
"I didn't bring any pajamas," I said, with a prickle of annoyance.
"So strip to your boxers then."
"I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable," I mumbled.
Roy rolled his eyes. "The time for humility has long passed."
"Here, let me help," Duke said, tugging on my shirt. I fell forward onto the matress. "You should get those fancy pants off him. They make me nauseous."
Despite taunting Duke when it suited him, Roy seemed light on objections for the moment. He tugged on my pants with a deep chuckle. The force of them hauling me both ways made me flop between them. I lay limp on my stomach. I feared if I rolled over it would expose my hardening dick. I tried not to let the tension show in my ass as it strained against my briefs.
Clarissa snorted. "Take it easy on him, you clowns; you look like a couple of gangbangers."
She was altogether too lax about what was happening--clearly oblivious to the gravity of the dynamic between Duke and myself. Maybe her cool was preferable to getting freaked out or offended. But then again, maybe it would have been nice to have someone take things seriously, and let Duke know he could be more respectful of boundaries.
As she busied herself fiddling with the movie player, Duke reached under my boxers and massaged my ass. I looked into his eyes, pleading, but he wouldn't turn away from the blank screen.
Roy flipped off the lights. Duke brushed my pucker with his middle finger and I shivered.
He withdrew his hand just as Clarissa started to turn around.
He had gotten so bold.
Did the thrill overshadow his fears?
I adjusted my boxers so that they covered me better as the movie started.
It was some horror about people getting rabies and eating each other.
I didn't really understand it.
It was hard to stay focused anyway. Clarissa was on Duke's left, and he had an arm around her, which made my hairs stand on end. I was sandwiched between Duke and Roy for the second time today, except this time, none of us had shirts, and I was in only my boxers. If I was afraid about Roy noticing my hard-on before, it was entirely hopeless now.
Duke draped his arm over me and flexed, drawing me into him. I leaned against him. He kept shifting his arm, making me slip around, until my face was flat against his armpit and I couldn't see at all. He tightened his biceps, letting me know there was no escape. I kissed his pit silently, leaning back, but he wouldn't let go.
I felt a grip on the back of my head, wrenching me free.
I was confused at first; then, I saw Roy's eyes flicker in the dark.
"Don't let him push you around," Roy whispered into my ear. "He'll take advantage of you."
I turned such a deep shade of red I feared he could see it through the shadows. At that moment, a particularly feral human started to simultaneously chew on and dry-hump a tree, while emitting a trilling wail, and Roy forgot about me.
When the movie ended, Duke's jaw made a little cracking noise. "We should get some sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow."
Clarissa grazed his arm as she let go of him. "Alrighty. See you bright and early?"
"Sure thing," Duke said.
I picked up my clothes off the floor, sliding back into my pants before Clarissa blinded us by flipping on the lights. When we stumbled down the hallway, she waved to us with a bemused expression before pulling the door shut.
"So now that the cat's out of the bag," Duke said, "want to sleep on a bed in our room?"
"I think I'll pass," Roy said. "I don't want to see any more of that shit."
"The couch has to be uncomfortable."
"I think I know what makes me uncomfortable. No offense."
Duke shrugged. "Suit yourself."
It wasn't long till we were naked, snuggled into the bed, with Duke's arms wrapped around me. He breathed slowly into my ear. "You owe me," he said.
"For what?"
"For that kiss you stole a few days back. Don't think I don't remember. You can't just put your cocksuckin' lips where they don't belong."
"You are such a douche—"
He covered my mouth with the pillow.
"You owe me," he said again. "And my friend—he's a bit shaken. Do you think you might make things up to me—by helping out my buddy Roy? We used to tag-team our marks, back in the good ol' days."
He let the pillow drop.
"I'm not your `mark' Duke. I'm fine with you calling me names and being a bit of an asshole, but it makes me nervous that I feel so seriously about you, and you seem so cavalier about me."
I started to feel on edge, and went as far as to wonder if, at some level, Duke wanted to be caught. Maybe he was sick of hiding it.
Duke definitely had a monster orgasm earlier, gushing in my throat.
Was it some round-about way of coddling his pride?
"You shouldn't assume Roy would want to anyway," I added.
"Every guy wants their cock sucked," Duke said, messing up my hair. "Except fags like you."
Duke nibbled on my ear, sliding up against me, and I briefly wondered if he was going to initiate another round, but then his body went soft, and his breathing changed seconds later. Begrudgingly, I followed him into the haze.
Drifting, floating, flying...
BARM! BARM! BARM!
I peeled one eye open, and felt the lance of sunlight cutting into my cheek.
Was it morning already? I felt I had been asleep for mere minutes.
"Wake up you homos!" Roy yelled.
Duke moaned, his eyes clenched shut, the space around them a little too wrinkly for him to feign sleep any longer. He groped in the dark, finding my head, and pulling it into his chest.
"We're gonna miss half the day if you don't get your asses out of bed! Stop screwing around and get up!"
Duke pushed my head around his abs and jabbed my chin with his morning wood. I went for it, catching the head in my mouth and slurping, but he batted me away.
"We'll be there in a second!" He yelled. Then he turned back to me. "No time, boy. You'll just have to wait."
He kneed my balls playfully, but it hurt more than I think he meant it to, and I gasped. Then he slid out of bed, leaving me alone in my fog.
Grogginess consumed me as I rummaged through my bags and found my snow-gear. I had these poofy nylon pants that made me look like I had elephantiasis.
Duke snorted at me when I put them on.
"What? They are waterproof," I said. "They'll keep the snow and ice out. Yours won't."
"How about you never fall instead?"
"Because snowboarders are too cool for ski poles, but not too cool to fall on their ass any time they have to stop for anything. And because you made me snowboard when I have no idea how—"
Duke covered my mouth with his palm. "You are supposed to say, `Sure, Duke. I'll do whatever you say. I'm your good little boy.'"
My eyes flashed. I chewed on his hand and he laughed.
The ride to the slopes was subdued. Clarissa handed out granola bars, but the winding road made me carsick, so I pocketed mine instead of eating it. Clarissa put on Jason Mraz, and Duke and Roy exchanged eye rolls as the radio sang about tongues and misty mirrors.
When we finally made it to the slopes, I tried not to blush as Duke showed me how to strap into and out of the board. The combination of having no idea what I was doing and being babied by Duke in front of everyone made me feel vulnerable, yet—
"Hurry up!" Roy yelled.
I shook my head, trying to wake up as the icy wind seemed to tug at my cheeks and clothes.
Once we got in line, Duke made sure I was in the middle, suggesting it was the easiest way to get onto the chair. The crowds weren't too bad, and we made it to the front soon enough. A worker yelled at us to stop, then go, and soon, the chair was swinging around the bend, sweeping us off our feet...
My legs felt tingly as they hung from the seat; I felt like a little kid in a high chair, whose feet couldn't reach the ground; I leaned my board back and forth, feeling the weight seem to bubble up through me; I relaxed, resting between the warmth of Duke and Roy again. I was beginning to get used to it. At first, I had been embarrassed by the constant hard-on I had, but now, with these big poofy snow-pants—at least it was hidden.
"Should we go on the bunny hill?" I asked.
"This is the wrong chairlift for that," Roy said. "You are a big boy. I'm sure you can handle it."
I wrinkled my mouth.
It turned out, once we got onto the slope, I couldn't handle it very well. I kept falling down every few seconds, and at one point, I careened through a clump of trees and Duke had to chase after me.
FUCK.
I couldn't stop. Ice nicked my face, kicked up by my board, obscuring my vision. I had to hop to avoid a tree, and fear gripped me as the reality of the danger settled in.
I leaned sharp, coiling around a tree and teetering.
My board clipped a rock and I fell flat on my face.
For a few moments, my thoughts and vision were black.
Then, I felt something soft under me.
My head was in Duke's lap, and I gazed up at him dreamily. "Duke—I suck at this."
"That's okay," he said.
"It's not the end of the world if I screw up your day. I can make it up to you. But what about Roy? I don't want him waiting up on me, frustrated that I'm such a lame-ass."
Duke ran his hand through my hair. "I told him to go ahead. We'll meet up with him for lunch. I'll go slow with you, okay? I should have let you ski; I was being dumb."
I just looked at him for a while; I gazed into his dimpled face, his porcelain teeth, and his sky blue eyes. He had on this turquoise woven hat that made me wonder if Duke had a nice, old, blind grandma who liked to knit.
He wrinkled his mouth, waiting for a minute. "What is it?" he asked at last.
"Kiss me," I said.
"What?"
"Kiss me," I said again. "It'll make it all better."
Duke pushed me off of him. "I don't think you are hurt that bad."
We were so deep into the trees that we decided it would be easier to just slide over to the adjacent trail instead of going back where we came from. We found ourselves alone on a series of jumps, bars, and a half-pipe. There was no one else to be seen.
I tried going on a small jump, but fell down again.
Duke weaved his way toward me, turning as he approached and looking back up the hill.
"It's deserted. I'm not even sure this run is supposed to be open."
He flexed, the filled out mounds of his cargo pants inches from my face.
I wasn't sure what got into me—but I leaned into him, and stole a kiss to his back pocket. I liked the way the cloth felt against my lips as he flexed; the way he seemed to go hard and soft at the same time--although I could do without the fabric.
"Did you just kiss my ass?" Duke asked, swiveling around.
I chuckled.
Duke hopped around on his board, and then pulled my face into his crotch. I could feel the warmth of his straining cock. "You are such a suck-up. I should make you get me off right now."
I looked up into his eyes. "I'd do it, Duke."
He squeezed my shoulders, and I closed my eyes.
Then, he pulled me up to my feet. "I like seeing you like this," he muttered. "You are gonna want it so bad by the time we get back to the cabin tonight."
We made it down the hill, rushing past a worker who yelled at us for being on the wrong trail, and taking refuge at the lodge.
"So," Duke said, "We got one whole run in before lunch. Sorry again for making you learn to snowboard."
I shrugged. "Everything is fun when you are around."
Duke tousled my hair. "I'm gonna remember that, y'know. `Everything is fun when Duke is around.' It should be my personal motto."
He slapped my ass.
We found Roy sitting by the fireplace. Static spindled his hair. He had successfully scared everyone else away, so we had the spot to ourselves.
"I got us some hamburgers," he said, gesturing toward a tray covered with napkins. "What was the hold-up?"
"The hold-up is that Holden sucks at snowboarding."
"Shut up already."
"Don't make me put you in your place, Holden."
"Yeah? What are you going to do?"
"I'm gonna pound you so hard you'll have to learn how to snowboard."
Roy rolled his eyes, hitting his head against the pillar rhythmically as we spoke.
"That doesn't even make sense," I said.
"It makes sense," Duke said. "Because you sure as hell won't be able to walk."
Roy pouted. "Forget I asked. Is Holden really that bad?"
"He falls every two seconds. `Oops, I fell on your crotch. Oops, I fell your ass. Oops, I fell on your dick.' It's like he keeps inventing new and exciting ways to touch me."
"Forget I asked that, too. Is there something else we can talk about?"
"I'm still a little worried about my final exam scores," I said. "When exactly is it correct to use the Divergence Theorem?"
"For God's sake!" Roy said, throwing his hands in the air. "I think I'm still hungry. I'm gonna get a candy bar. You guys want one?"
"Still got my granola bar," I said, fishing it out of my pocket.
Roy nodded at us as he walked away, his cool brown eyes shimmering until he turned the corner.
"You think he's alright?" Duke asked.
"He's fine. I think I get why you guys are friends."
"How—fine--do you think he is?" Duke asked, tracing out his chest and abdominal muscles through his shirt.
"Don't be like this."
"You still wanna kiss me?"
"Of course," I said, feeling myself go flush.
"How about—if you kiss Roy--wherever I want--I'll let you kiss me--wherever you want."
I looked into his crystalline eyes. Perhaps—he did want to kiss me. Perhaps this was just his way of saving face. Like how he had to be drunk (or pretend drunk) to be intimate with me at first.
God, did most people have this much trouble with their manpike?
I reminded myself that most gay guys get boyfriends', not manpikes'. In the spirit of compound words, that probably made me a `fuckup'.
"Yes," I said softly.
"What?" Duke asked.
"Yes," I said, evening my voice. "I'll do it for you. Just don't see how you can expect him to want it."
"Who--to want what?" Roy said. He had bought each of us a candy bar anyway, and flipped them towards us casually.
"Jason Mraz," I said. "Does he really want to feel music--like he said in his song?"
Duke and Roy exchanged looks again.
I was able to mostly keep up with them for the rest of the day. Despite being warned that if we were found on the closed slope again, they would cut our lift tickets, we decided to sneak back on the last run—since the threat was empty at that point anyway.
Roy grinded his board on the rail, and Duke followed suit, but I swerved around it, afraid to fall again.
Duke had turned to watch me, and catcalled when he saw me chicken out.
"I just didn't want to fall flat on my face again," I said.
"If you never fall—you aren't taking enough risks," Duke said.
I grinned at him.
"Wipe that sloppy smile off your face," he added. "You look like a clown."
I puckered my lips at him—then I took off.
A jump loomed ahead, and I was gathering speed.
I still had time to swerve around it; snow kicked up all around me, wrapping me in a tunnel of ice; my heartbeat raced—it was now or never.
I went straight for it—and then, with a wave of authority, flew high into the air.
I hadn't meant to sail so high; the tingles grew back into my legs, like the first moment on the chairlift; I felt like a little kid again, wishing I could ride to the stars. I froze the fear inside me, knowing I could crash, knowing it could hurt, but deciding that for the moment, I could enjoy being in the air, ungrounded and defiant and even a little bit wild.
It was how life was meant to be.
The ground came up at me; I bent my knees, but still, the impact shook me.
I slid down the hill, teetering, waving my arms; then, I crashed into Roy and we tangled up in one another. He cradled me, and I fell into him—he absorbed the brunt of the impact. He lay motionless for a moment, his eyes closed, as I called his name.
"Roy!"
Duke sliced towards us, shredding snow all over us, before collapsing next to us. "Buddy," he said, slapping Roy's cheek. "Hey, buddy."
Roy lay motionless still.
Then, suddenly, Roy started shaking his head. "God, stop slapping me. That hurts more than my back."
"What, you don't like getting slapped?" Duke asked. I noticed he still hadn't stopped.
"Remind me not to buy you any more candy bars, you brat," he spat. But when he opened his eyes they were glimmering.
As we got to the bottom of the run, I looked around to see if we would get yelled at, but the personnel had packed in for the day. Besides—we were moving too fast.
Duke pointed out a ditch in the parking lot we could cut through without getting off our boards, so we carved our way right back to the car.
Victoria and Clarissa were already there waiting for us, reading from a book and phone respectively.
"Took you guys long enough," Victoria said. "We had our fill about an hour ago."
"Had to get our money's worth," Duke said, grinning. "You shoulda seen how much Holden improved."
"So I don't suck now?" I asked.
"Don't push it," Duke said.
We met the rest of the group at Carson's Ashford House.
Chicken Strips had never sounded so good in all my life. The breading was golden-brown and crispy, with tangy honey mustard and garlic mashed potatoes on the side, and I knew after the first bite I would devour it all. The group shared some Coconut Shrimp too, but with Duke and Roy on our side of the table, I was lucky I even got a bite of it, really.
They ate like monsters.
Afterwards, we headed back to the cabin, and made better use of the backyard than we had the night before.
We changed into our swimsuits, but hadn't quite made it to the hottub when Clarissa nailed Duke with a snowball again.
Duke grumbled, flinging a lump of snow back her way. Clarissa ducked; the chunk of snow sailed by; then, with a deadening flopping noise, it hit Victoria square in the forehead. She teetered backwards with an expression of pure revulsion etched across her face.
She fell near a pile of pinecones, and we soon learned she wasn't too picky about weaponry.
When Roy pushed Duke into the projectile pinecone assault, everything became a chaotic mess. Clarissa made sure I was involved by plastering a chunk of snow right into the back of my neck, and soon, I lost track of what was going on. Duke tripped us all up, making us into a big flesh-pile in the middle of the snow.
Even Victoria was in the mood to laugh a little.
We nursed our chilled bodies in the hot tub for a long while after.
Duke batted his hand and foam sliced up at me, shaking me out of my trance.
"Holden—how do you feel...now that our first semester of college is under our belts?" Victoria asked. It must have been at least the second time she asked.
I shook my head. "For a bit, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to make new friends," I confided. "But then I met you guys."
"Well, you live next door to Duke, right? You were bound to run into him." Clarissa said.
"He doesn't exactly count."
"Hey!" Duke said, pushing me slightly, causing a hunk of water to splash out of the tub. "How do I not count?"
"I know what Holden means," Victoria said, nodding. "I'm not sure I would count Duke either. Under the pomp, he's a bit insignificant. I mean—would your semester really be that different, had you never met him?"
Duke frowned, but light still played in his eyes.
Afterwards, our gang monopolized the bathrooms for a while, taking turns showering and brushing our teeth.
Clarissa convinced us to play a few games of Mafia with the big group, but I snuck off to the room after a couple of rounds.
I hadn't realized how tired I was. Once my head hit the pillow, my mind replayed launching into the air and falling into the snow in a vertigo-inducing cycle.
Then, everything faded—except my smile.
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