Zack and Jay

Zack and Jay

Author: Lone Wolf

Chapter 1

Author's note: This is a work of fiction, all the characters are made up, and any similarity to an actual person is strictly coincidental.

"Do you have everything, Honey" says my mom.

"Yeah, I think so" I say.

"Zack, I can't believe my baby is going off to college, Harvard none the less. I will really miss you" she says.

I lovingly tell her, "Mom, it's not like you won't see me again. It's just a couple of months until Thanksgiving, and then only a few weeks later, I get a month off for Christmas and New Years. Don't worry about me, I'm a 'big boy' now, and can take care of myself."

"I know. I'm just being a mother. It seems like just yesterday, you were only six years old, and your father and I were teaching you how to ride your bike with out training wheels" Mom responds.

I stood up from the box I'd just finished taping shut, and give my mother a hug, and whisper in her ear, "I love you, and will miss you, too." I pull back and see a lone tear run down my mom's cheek. "Mom you promised you wouldn't cry."

"I just can't help it" she replies.

"Everything alright in here?" my father asks, walking into my bedroom for another load of boxes to take down to my car.

"Yeah, Mom is just getting misty eyed" I lovingly tease.

"What else, needs to go?" Dad asks.

"These two are the last" I respond.

My father laughs and says, "Good I'm not sure if you could get much more in your car if you had to."

We head down the stairs and out to the driveway, were my car sits packed with everything I should need for my freshman year of college. We put the last two boxes in the back seat, and I turn to my parents. "Well it's a long drive and I really should get going."

I hug them, and tell them both that I love them.

"Be safe and take care of yourself," my father tells me "and if you feel you're getting tired, don't hesitate to pull over and take a break."

"I know Dad. I love you, bye."

"Don't forget to right, and call, and if you're running a little low on minutes on your phone, you can always call collect." Mom tells me.

"I know Mom, I will email as often as I can, and I will try to call at least once a week. Even if it's just a quick hi, and I love you." I tell my mom.

I hug my parents again and kiss them both on the cheek, walk around the car and get in.

My parents look in the passenger's side open window and Mom reminds me, "Don't forget you have an appointment Monday morning with the counselor at the school. Dr. Meyers has sent him all your records, and is expecting you." She notices I'm now crying. "Honey, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up."

"It's alright Mom. It's getting easier. I know it's only been a few months, but it's starting to get easier to talk about. And I won't forget the appointment, I promise. Now I've got to go. I love you both. Bye." I wave to my parents, start the car and pull out of the driveway.

I know that my parents are standing at the end of the driveway, watching my car as I drive away. I look up into the rear view mirror, and see them standing there side by side; Dad has his arm around Mom's waist. "I love you guys," I say to the empty car.

I think to myself, why did Mom have to bring that up? We've talked about that probably a hundred times over the last few weeks. I know about the appointment. It's not like I even want to forget it. I've been a wreck sense Josh committed suicide, and I blame myself for that. I think back to all the times he and I had been together, first as best friends growing up, and then in our junior year of High School, becoming lovers. Who would ever have thought that the High School Football Team Quarterback and Team Captain would wind up hanging himself in his families basement after outing himself trying to protect me.

I remember back to when I was first starting out with photography and painting. Taking pictures of family and friends, and nature scenes and the like. But my most favorite subject was my best friend, Josh. I loved taking pictures of him, anywhere and anytime. I would take pictures during football practice and games. And when we were hanging out, or doing homework together.

In tenth grade I told my parents I was gay. My parents were fine with it, nothing changed. I could not tell my best friend though; I didn't want to loose that friendship. As I matured so did my photography and painting. I asked Josh one day, if I could photograph him naked. Josh told me of course, I could. It's not like we've never seen each other naked before. He either spent one or two nights a week at my house, or I, his, since forever, sleeping next to each other in the same beds. Both of our parents had bought us queen sized beds when we got too big for the twins we had when we were little.

I had a small studio in the spare bedroom of our house. So we went upstairs and went to the studio. I closed and locked the door. Turned on the lights and adjusted my equipment, while Josh stripped. He asked me were I wanted him. In my bed I thought, but responded for him to sit on the stool in the middle of the room. I told him how I wanted him to sit, with his left foot on the upper wrung of the stool and his right on the lower. I had him turn slightly to the left, and to turn his head to the right so he was looking at the camera. I had him place his right hand on his hip, and put his left one on his left thigh. I looked through the view finder at his gorgeous body. I was already getting hard. I pulled my shirt out of the waist band of my jeans, trying to hide my condition; I took a few pictures of him sitting there and then moved in to get some close-ups for more detail so I could use them to paint his naked portrait.

I wanted to capture the shadows his muscles and fine body hair cast across his body. I took a couple of his five inch long soft cock really close, and looked up between his knees to see if this bothered him. He just looked down at me and smiled. After about a half hour, I told him I was done, and that I should have enough pictures to paint his portrait. He said he couldn't wait to see it.

It took over a year to finish it, with school and Karate classes and tournaments. But, when it was finally done, I called Josh and asked if he could come over, I wanted to show him something. I hadn't let him see his portrait the whole time I worked on it. When he got there, I had set it up on an easel in the living room with a piece of drop cloth over it. I told him to stand in front of the painting and asked if he was ready. He nodded his head and I slowly lowered the cloth. I was standing next to the painting facing him, as I lowered the it, watching his face for his reaction.

"Oh, my God, you really have one hell of a talent there." He told me. "This is awesome. What are you going to do with it?" he asked.

"I want to give it to you." I responded.

"I can't accept it. You've worked so hard on it. I know you've already sold some paintings and have had many pictures published, why don't you try and sell it? You could get a lot of money for that." he said.

"I could never sell it!" I cried.

"Why?" he asked, coming to my side and putting his arm around me.

"Josh, sit down, I have something to tell you," I said through my tears. "Josh, this is not easy to say. My parents have known for over a year, but I could not bring myself to tell you, because I didn't want to loose you as a friend." I paused and looked at my feet, thinking of a way to continue.

"Zack, what's the matter? We're best friends and that will never change, you can tell me anything." He said hugging me.

I took a deep breath, and said, "Josh, I'm gay. And I'm in love with you." I looked into his eyes and tried to read the reaction there, but couldn't.

He just sat there for a couple of minutes looking into my eyes and saying nothing. Then he slowly moved closer to me and leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

I thought I was in heaven and felt confused at the same time. "Why did you just do that?" I asked.

"I think... No! I know, I'm gay, too. I'm not ready to come out yet. You're the first person I've told, and I can't imagine telling anybody else, but I'm glad I've told you" Josh said.

We kissed again, more passionately, and explored each others mouths with our tongues. We were not ready to go any further right then, but over the next few months we did more and more. Over the next year I took more pictures of him, naked. In some of them he was obviously turned on.

I got special permission from my photography teacher to do nudes of Josh for my final project my senior year, as long as he promised that no one would see them, as Josh still had not come out, except to his parents. They had talked about it. He wanted to continue in football, and had gotten a full ride scholarship for college and thought it best if he ever wanted to go pro, that he should not come out. We were careful in our relationship. He found a girl that he could take out on occasions so nobody would suspect anything.

Then one day in the middle of May, I was in the computer lab, doing some touchups on the digital photos I was going to turn in for my project. When a couple of Josh's teammates entered the room quietly and walked up behind me. I was so intently proofing the pics that I didn't hear them until; they were standing directly behind me and could see what I was doing.

"Zack, why do you have naked pictures of Josh?" one of them asked.

"What the fuck, are you gay or something, sitting there looking at naked pictures of a guy?" another said.

As I never hid the fact I was gay, I said, "Yes, I'm gay. What difference does it make?"

They started teasing me calling me faggot, homo, fudge packer, etc., pushing me around. I didn't fight back. After ten years of taking karate I was a black belt and knew I could easily defend myself if it came to that. Just then, Josh walked by. Saw and heard what was going on and came to my defense. "What the fuck are you three doing? Why are you saying those things to him, and pushing him around?"

"That faggot was sitting there looking at naked pictures of you. And when we asked if he was gay or something he said he was." one of them said.

"And that gives you the right to treat him like that? And besides I know he is gay, and I'm fine with that." Josh yelled at them.

"Josh stop!" I pleaded.

"No." he said to me. "I won't stand here and let them treat you like that. You're my best friend and I love you, I won't let them talk to you like that."

"Josh don't, you're going to say something you're going to regret." I pleaded again.

"I don't care." he said very angrily. "I won't stand here and let these three assholes treat the guy I LOVE like he's a piece of shit just because he's gay."

The three gawked at Josh with open mouths. "Oh, my God, you're gay, too!" one of them said.

"Yes, I am. What the fuck is it to you?" Josh retorted.

The three grabbed their bags and turned and were walking out the door, when one of them turned back and looking at Josh said, "I'm going to talk to coach and get you thrown off the team. And I hope he calls the college that gave you the scholarship and they pull it."

"Josh, we need to get out of here. You just outed yourself to your teammates." I caringly told him.

We left school and went to my house, not saying anything to each other during the short drive. When we were in the confines of my room, I turned to him, drawing him into a hug and lovingly kissed him. We sat down on my bed and I asked him if he wanted to talk. He said that he just wanted to make love to me and that he was sorry for the way I was treated by those assholes.

"Josh, you know damn well, that I'm a black belt in karate, and they would have stood no chance if they started something." I told him.

"I know. I just couldn't help it. I didn't like the way they were talking to you, and pushing you around." he said through the tears that were now flowing down his cheeks.

"The things, they were saying, are just words. Words can't hurt you. That is something that our Mom's told use when we were little. 'Sticks and stones may break my bones...' They're just words." I said. Then I leaned in and gave him another kiss and wiped the tears from his face.

I wanted him so bad for standing up for me. I slid off the bed onto me knees and got between his legs. He lay back on the bed as I reached up and undid the button and lowered the zipper of his jeans. He rose up a little as I pulled them off. I could see the outline of his cock through the cotton material of his underwear. He was starting to get hard. I placed my mouth over his cock and blow the warm air from my lungs onto it through the cotton. He moaned slightly. I placed a finger in each side of his underwear and pulled them off as he lifted again. I took his now hard eight inch cock in my mouth and sucked it down to the hilt. I don't know why, but I've never had a problem sucking him all the way down, I don't have a gag reflex. I continued working his cock in my mouth sucking it all the way in, then as I pull off of it I turn my head either to the right or left. He was moaning regularly now. I went to work on his balls, knowing he liked this, licking them and sucking each one into my mouth. He moaned more and reached down and gently pulled me back up to his cock. I really went to work on it, sucking harder and faster, each time sucking him to the hilt. His balls slowly started pulling up into his groin and I knew he was getting close. I picked the pace up more, bobbing my head on his dick as fast as I could.

He gasped, then drew in a deep breath through his clenched teeth and held it in his lungs. "I'm gonna cum" he moaned. I tightened my lips around his cock increasing the pressure, and slid up and down his cock one more time, when he shot his first spurt of cum down my throat. I slowly pulled up the length of his cock and held the head of it between my lips drinking in his man juice. I then slowly descended his cock one more time and then back up, sucking every drop of cum out of his thick dick.

When he had recovered from the orgasm he sat up and looked down at me and said, with more tears in his eyes, "That was awesome, I think that was your best blow job ever."

"Josh, are you going to be alright?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I think so." he said. "I'm sorry; I really won't to suck you off too. But, I should get home and let my parents know what's going on."

"I understand." I told him. "I Love you."

"Zack, I love you, too." He leaned over and gave me a kiss. Then stood, redressed, and headed for the door. "I love you, and will call later."

"Bye!" I said.

That was the last time I saw him alive. He went home, found a piece of rope, and hung himself in his family's basement. His mother found him, a couple hours later when she went down to do a load of laundry.

I was now on the Interstate heading to Harvard and had to stop. I notice a sign that says rest stop two miles ahead, and move over to the right lane and prepare to exit the highway. I'm crying a river of tears and have to get a grip on myself, before I kill myself in a wreck, or worse yet, kill some one else. I pull into the rest area and just sit there leaning on the steering wheel, crying. After a while, I'm able to get myself under control. Look at the clock in the dash and notice it is 2:30. Crap, I have to get going or I will miss my 4:00 check in for the dorms. I realize I have to piss, so I get out of the car, and walk to the restroom. I go into the men's room and to my relief it is empty. I walk up to one of the urinals and empty my bladder. I zip up while turning around, walk over to the sink and look at my reflection in the mirror. Holy crap, I really look like shit, I think to myself. I wash my hands and then turn the hot water off and splash cold water onto my face. Grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser, dry up, and drop the towels in the trash on my way out the door. I get back in my car, and head back out onto the highway.

It takes about another hour to get to the reception area set up for freshman. As it was a nice day out, they had set up a bunch of tables outside. There were four letters taped to each table. I find out that you have to get inline in front of the table with the first letter of your last name. There are people everywhere. I find the line for M, N, O, and P, and wait my turn. When I finally get to the head of the line, the guy sitting at the table asks, "What Department?"

"Department of Visual and Environmental Studies" I reply.

"Name?" he asks.

"Zack Miller" I say.

He hands me a folder of papers, my dorm assignment, and a schedule for classes. I thank him, and he finally looks up at me. God he's gorgeous I think to myself. Those eyes, I've never seen eyes so blue.

"You're welcome" he says. "And welcome to Harvard University."

"Thank you" I reply turn and head back to my car.

I find a map of the campus in the folder and look it over trying to locate my dorm. I finally find it on the map and head there. As the freshman are the only ones that have to be here today, it is easy finding a parking spot in the lot right in front of my dorm. I grab the papers that the guy at the reception area had given me and my backpack and get out of my car. I look around, and take in the beauty of the area around my dorm. This year is going to be amazing. I walk over to the dorms and go inside to find my room. I look down at the dorm assignment I have in my hand and notice my room was on the top floor. I go over to the elevator and hit the up button, the doors open and I get in, and hit the button for the fourth floor. When the elevator reaches my floor, I get out and turn to the right and start looking for my room. I notice by the numbers on the doors that I am heading in the wrong direction, so I turn around and go the other way. I find my room; it is the last one in the hall, on the left side. I open the door and walk in. I didn't think my roommate would be here yet, but was surprised when a guy was sitting in front of a computer on the left side of the room.

He looks up from his computer as I enter, smiles, and says, "Hi! I'm John, your roommate. You must be Zack."

I'm so shocked, how did he know my name? I must have a questioning look on my face, because he smiles and adds, "You didn't look at the back of your room assignment, did you?"

"No?" I say, questioning him.

"Turn yours over and read it" he responds.

I turn the room assignment sheet over and notice a short bio of my roommate. It gives his name, where he's from, and a few interests.

"So, is that all you brought with you, or would you like a hand with the rest of your stuff? My parents got permission for me to come to school early, because they had to be out of town for a few weeks. I'm all ready unpacked and wouldn't mind giving you a hand with your stuff." he says.

"That would be great" I reply to him. "Thank you."

We spend the next hour bringing my things up to our room. It is now about five thirty and I release I am starving, and ask, "John, would you like to go get something to eat? I'm starving. I sort of forget to stop and get something to eat on the drive over."

He smiles and says that sounds good. As he has been here for over a week already, he knows where everything is, so I follow him to the commons. We get into line and I pick out some things that look good, not really thinking about what I am getting. Just picking up things I know I would like. He keeps watching me as we make our way through the line and go over to the cashier to pay. He pays for his with cash, and I slide my ID card through the machine.

We sit at a table, and he says," I see you didn't have to pay for your meal, full ride scholarship?"

"Yeah," I answer, embarrassed "I got it on academics, and because of the paintings I've sold and the pictures I've had published, already."

"Painter and photographer, amazing, photography is my most loved past time" he says.

"Past time," I question him "You don't think you could make a living at it?"

"It's not that, it's just that my folks don't think it's a real job. That's why I'm minoring in photography" he says.

"So what's your major?" I ask.

"I haven't picked one yet" he replies. "What about you?"

"Actually, I have a double major, one in photography and one in painting. I started painting when I was about ten, and then got into photography to help my painting" I say.

"What do you mean by, "help your painting'?" he asks.

"Well, when you're painting someone's portrait they have to sit for hours on end and that can be very tiresome. So I started taking pictures of people to use instead of making them sit for the portrait. They only have to sit for a few pictures, instead of hours while I paint them. Also, I love doing landscapes, but the lighting changes as the sun moves across the sky, changing the whole look. It's just easier to take a picture of what I want to paint, and then when I'm ready to paint the scene I've got the picture or pictures to look at. I always use my digital camera, so I can zoom in on certain areas to get the textures just right" I tell him.

"Zack, can I ask you something?" he asks. I have a mouthful of food, so I nod my head. "I noticed that all the food you picked out while going through the line is healthy, no junk. Are you a health freak or something?"

"No, I just don't like putting garbage into my body. You know the old saying, `Garbage in, garbage out'? Well I sort of take that to heart. I don't know if it's something my parents taught me, or if it's from my karate instructor, but I just like to eat healthy. And to tell you truth, when I was picking out my food, I really wasn't thinking about what I was getting. I was thinking, that looks good, or I want to try that" I say.

We continue getting to know each other while we eat. When I'm done, I tell him that if I plan on getting any sleep tonight I had better go unpack. He says he will leave me alone in the room for a while and will be up later. I finish up, and head back to the dorm. I decide I better call Mom and Dad and let them know I'm hear, safe and sound. I dig through my backpack and find my cell, and hit speed dial.

The phone is picked up on the first ring, "Hi, Zack" Mom says. "Everything alright, you made it there safely?"

"Yes Mom, everything is alright and yes, I made it here safely. I was just calling to let you know I'm here and you can stop worrying about me" I tease her.

"I wasn't worrying. I was just... It's getting so late and we haven't heard from you. That's all" she says.

"Mom, I got here about quarter to four, got my room assignment, found my dorm. My roommate, John, help me unload my car, afterwards we were starving, and so we went and got something to eat in the commons. I'm sorry I worried you, I should have called earlier."

"It's alright, Zack. I was just being a mother again. I guess I'll have to try and stop doing that as you're now a college freshman" she replies.

"Mom, you never have to stop being a mother to me. I love that there is somebody out there worrying and thinking about me. Well, I really need to unpack, I'll let you go. I love you, and tell Dad I love him, too."

"We love you too, Zack. Bye!" she says.

"Bye!" I say and hang up.

I spend the next few hours unpacking and putting everything away. I finally have a chance to look around the room. There is two queen sized beds, one on each side of the room against the outside wall with a small bedside table in each corner with matching lamps on them. At the foot of each bed, on the opposite wall, is a computer desk. The door to the hallway opens between them. Across from the door to the hallway is a French door that leads out to a balcony. On each side wall is a large closet, and on John's side of the room, in the corner is a door that leads to a small lavatory, just a toilet and a sink. In the opposite corner, on my side of the room, is a small kitchenette.

There is a knock on the door, I open it, and there is a guy standing there. He looks just a little older than I am. He says, "Hi, I'm Dan, the Junior RA for this floor." We shake hands, and he continues, "I just wanted to check in with you and to see if you need anything."

"Hi, I'm Zack Miller" I tell him. "No. I don't need anything. I just finished unpacking and think I'm OK with everything. What's a Junior RA?" I ask.

"The school has so many guys in each dorm that we have a junior that helps out each floor, and a senior for the whole dorm. If you need anything, just let me know and if I can't help, I will talk to the Senior RA" he responds. "Boy, you really should count your blessings with getting this room. A lot of guys here would kill for it."

"Why?" I ask.

"The stairwell," he turns and points at the door on his right, "heads down to the right, towards the front of the dorm. That leaves about eight extra feet in the back corners and when they built this dorm they just made the rooms on the back two corners eight feet wider than the rest. Usually they are assigned to RAs or guys whose family has some pull with the college."

"That's pretty awesome. I was shown a couple of the dorms when my parents and I were here on a tour last year, but we didn't get to see any of the rooms. Anything else?" I ask him.

"No, just wanted to introduce myself, and if you need anything, I'm in the room at the opposite end of the hall same side as your room. And because I'm a Junior RA, I don't have a roommate" he laughs.

"Crap, you get a room that is eight feet bigger than the rest and you don't have to share it? I can't wait until I'm a junior. Nice meeting you. Well, I should get pack to putting away my things." I shake his hand again, and as he's turning to leave I close the door.

I turn back to my bed where I have a small display shelf I brought to set a few of my karate trophies on that I just had to bring with me. There are small slats hanging below the shelf were I attach my old karate belts. Then I hang the shelf over my computer desk and set the trophies on it. Just then the door opens and John walks in.

"Well, it didn't take you long to make yourself at home. Need a hand?" he asks.

"Nope, I just finished!" I say. "You know, you didn't have to let me come back by myself, just so I could unpack. I wouldn't have minded if you were here."

"I just wanted to give you a little time to get your stuff the way you wanted it without me sitting here like a bump on log, watching you. So, you said you were in karate but you left out the fact you're a, black belt? By the looks of the belts you've got hanging there."

"Yeah, I'm a black belt. Are you in karate, too?" I ask.

"No. I did take it for a year or so when I was little, but just lost interest in it. Those trophies look nice, what are they from?" he asks.

"The one on the left is from winning a small tournament a few years ago. The one on the right is for coming in second in the state wide championship two years ago. And the big one in the middle is for winning the same one last year." I tell him.

"Wow, you must be really good?" he asks.

"Well, I don't like to brag, but yeah, I guess I am." I reply.

He notices my schedule on my desk and looks at me questioningly. I nod my head, and he picks it up and reads it. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you have an appointment scheduled for every Monday morning with Phil the school counselor?"

"My best friend, Josh, committed suicide in May and my psychologist at home thought it best I have someone here to talk to." I respond. I'm not sure why, but I leave the fact that Josh was also my boyfriend out on purpose. I'm not ready to trust this guy with the whole story about Josh so I change the subject and ask about him. We continue talking until about midnight when I'm so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open. "Well, I'm exhausted, and I have to meat with my professors tomorrow, I'm going to bed."

"Me, too!" he replies. I grab a clean pair of underwear and a pair of shorts, and my shaving kit and head into the bathroom to get ready for bed. After changing, shaving and brushing my teeth, I go back into the room and find John in his bed lightly snoring. I think to myself, God I wish I could fall asleep that quick. I lock the door and turn off the lamp on my computer desk and the overhead light, throw my dirty clothes in my hamper in the closet. Climb into bed and reach over and turn off the lamp on my bedside table. About a half hour later I finally fall asleep.

I spend Friday getting the feel of my part of the campus, and meeting with my professors. My painting professor, Professor Richards, asks me, "So Zack, I see from your transcript that you have sold a number of paintings. What do you like to paint with; oils or pastels?"

"Oils mostly" I respond. "I have used water colors and pastels, but prefer oil. I've even gone as far as doing some sketches with chalk and charcoal. But, I don't like the fact that you have to seal them with something, because it always changes the colors slightly."

"Interesting, I wish all my students had your insight and talent. It would make my job so much easier. I was wondering; did you by chance bring any of your paintings with you? I would love to see what you've done so far?" he asks.

"No, I didn't. There is one that I wish I had brought, but I didn't think it would have been a good idea to bring it." He looks at me questioningly, so I add, "You know that I have been scheduled to meet with Phil, one of the school counselors, every Monday morning. But do you know why?"

"No, the School doesn't tell us the whys just that you are going to the counselor. And Zack, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to" he says.

"It's alright. My boyfriend committed suicide in May after outing himself trying to defend me. The painting I wanted to bring with me is a naked portrait of him, sitting on a stool in my studio at home." I tell him.

"Zack, that sounds like something I would love to see some day, when you are in the right place to share it."

I respond, "Someday I may just bring it here with me after a vacation or something. Or who knows, I may have my parents ship it to me. But, not right now. I have to try and forget what happened and get on with my life."

"Zack, that is something you will never forget, and I don't think you want to forget it. Do you, honestly?" he asks.

"Forget...? No! But get over...? Yes!"

"Well just take one day at a time, and remember to keep those appointments with Phil. He's a great guy, and I think he can help you through this. Well, I need to let you go now, as it is almost time for my next appointment. I just wanted to say I look forward to this semester, and welcome to Harvard University."

"Thank you, Professor Richards; I really appreciate the chance to talk to you and to get to know you a little before class begins." I stand, shake his hand and leave his office.

I have about twenty minutes before I have to meet with my photography professor. So I start heading towards the photography building. I find Professor Avery's office, and notice a note on the door, that reads. If door is closed, please wait outside. I'll be right with you. A few minutes later, the door opens and a very young looking guy and a tall pretty older woman walk out. He looks at me and nods and walks away.

The women looks at me, smiles and says, "You must be the famous, Zack Miller. I've seen some of the work you have had published." She sticks out her hand and I gently shake it. "I hope you can live up to the high standard you've set for yourself." She turns back into her office and motions for me to follow. She points to a chair and tells me to have a seat, while she moves around behind her desk. "Well Zack, I take the time of these little one on one meetings, so I can see where my students are in their interest of photography and what they want to do with it after leaving school. As I already said I've seen some of your work and know the caliber you're capable of, so I guess the only question I have for you is; where do you want to go from here?"

"Well, I really haven't given that much thought. The reason I got into photography was to assist in my other interest, painting. I started taking pictures of people because; it is so hard to sit for a painted portrait. My parents were getting sick and tired of me asking them to pose so I could paint them that they bought me a digital camera. I just have them pose the way I want to paint them, and when I'm painting I just have to look at the pictures. Also, when you paint landscapes or anything outside, the light is always changing. So when I see something outside to paint I wait for the sun to move so the lighting looks right to me, take a few pictures, and then paint it at my leisure. I don't have to worry about the light changing."

"Well, that sounds nice. But, you make it sound like painting is your love and photography is just a hobby." She says.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. That is just how I started taking pictures. I love both photography and painting." I say.

She nods, "I understand. Ok, now a little about the class. We will be photographing a lot of different items and themes, to include nudes. You don't have a problem with that do you?"

"No. Actually, I've already done some nudes of a friend in high school and actually used them as my final project." I respond.

"Really? Very mature of you, most of my students have never taken a picture of someone in the nude until they step foot into my class. You wouldn't by chance have any of your stuff with you now, would you? I would like to see what you've accomplished on your own up to now."

"Yes, I do. I put together a small portfolio just incase." I reach down and get my backpack from the floor and open it. I pull out a medium sized, black leather book and hand it across the desk to her. I sit and watch her as she opens it and looks at each picture as if she is grading them.

When she's done, she hands my portfolio back to me and says, "Some of those pictures are really good. I can see why you've been published at such a young age. This is going to be a great semester." She stands and walks back around her desk. "Well, thank you Zack, it was nice chatting with you."

I stand and shake her hand again as we walk to the door of her office. "I've got one question, if we have a minute?"

"Of course, ask away" she replies.

"I was wondering, can I find someone around campus that will be willing to model for me, or do I have to use the models that sign up through the department?"

"If you can find someone, then yes, by all means, go right ahead. There are a limited number of people that sign up to be models, so if you want a lot of one on one time, then it probably would be better if you could find someone by yourself."

"Thank you for your time. I really should get going, so you don't fall behind in your meetings." We shake hands again, and she opens the door, holding it for me then comes out and greets her next appointment.

It's almost five thirty by this time so I head over to the commons and eat dinner. I haven't had much time to meet anyone, so I get my food and find an empty table in a quite corner. While eating I think to myself, that tomorrow I will go over to the sports area of campus and talk to the football teams head coach, to get permission to talk to his team and see if anyone would be interested in modeling for me. I finish up, through away my trash and drop my tray in the bin. I spend a little time just walking around, taking in the sights and sounds of my section of the campus. I head back to the dorm, and take the stairs at the opposite end of the building from where my room is, to the fourth floor. I exit the stairwell and knock on Dan's door.

He opens it right away. "Hi!" he says. "It's Zack, right?"

"Yeah, I was just wondering; do you know of a Dojo around here that I could check out and possibly join?" I ask. "My parents and I didn't think of that when we were here last spring."

"Actually, there is a couple right off campus. I'm not into that sort of thing. But I have seen them, and I know of a couple of guys that have joined one, and really like it. Let me introduce you to one of them. I saw him arrive this morning."

"Thanks, that would be great."

I step out of the way to follow him, and he turns and heads down the stairs I just came up. We go down one flight of stairs and enter the hall at the third floor. About halfway down the hall, he stops and knocks on a door. A tall guy opens the door, sees Dan standing there, smiles and gives him a bear hug, saying "Hi, buddy, long time no see. How've you been?"

"Great! Look Gary, I'd like you to meet Zack Miller, he's into karate and was asking about a Dojo and I thought that maybe you could show him the one you belong to and see if it suits him?"

Gary turns to me for the first time, sticks out his hand and we shake. "Nice to meet you, Zack. Why don't you guys come in so we can sit down and talk?"

Dan says, "I really should get back upstairs, it was nice seeing you, and we'll catch up soon."

"Good seeing you again, talk to you soon. So Zack, come on in and have a seat." He pulls out his computer chair for me and he sits on his bed. "So you're into karate?"

"Yeah, I'm a black belt. I've been in a couple of state tournaments, one of which I won first place. At home my instructor had me working with some of the younger kids and older ones that were just starting out, and I thought that I would like to continue doing that here, if possible."

"Well, that sounds nice; I don't think Jack will have a problem with you helping out. He may just like that idea. Wow, a black belt, and winning a state championship to boot. You must be really proud of yourself?"

I start to blush a little and respond, "Yeah, but I don't like to brag."

Gary responds, "I don't consider what you said as bragging. I would be very proud if I accomplished have of that."

"Thanks, Gary that really means a lot coming from someone I just met. So when do you think you will have time to show me your Dojo and introduce me to, what was his name, Jack?" I ask.

"Yep, his name is Jack. I was actually going over there in the morning. How's nine o'clock sound to you?"

"Sounds good, as long as were back by lunch, I wanted to go over to the football field and talk to the coach about seeing if I could talk to his team about getting a model for myself. You know, a little one on one, private sessions?"

"Yeah, I know how hard it can be to get that, just using the models that the school gets. But, I never even considered doing something like that" he replies.

"Well, it can't hurt, and who knows, somebody over there just might need the extra money."

"Damn, straight there, well then I will see you right here tomorrow morning at nine then?" he asks.

I reply, "Yep, and I can see why Dan told me why some guys would kill for my roommates and my room. God is it crowded in here."

"You got one of the back corner rooms, your freshman year? How the hell did you pull that off?"

"I didn't pull anything off, that's the room they assigned to John and me. Well it's getting late; I better get out of your hair. I'll see you down here at nine in the morning."

"Great," he says, "see you then."

I let myself out of his room and head towards the stairs at the opposite end of the hall and back up to my floor. I try to turn the door knob, but it's locked. I dig around in the front pocket of my backpack and find my key that was left for me on my computer desk when I first got here. Unlock the door and walk in. As soon as I opened the door I could hear low moaning. The door opens into the room and with John's bed on the left side of it, I could see he was having sex with somebody. John turns toward the now open door, sees me standing there and asks, "Do you want to join us, she won't mind?"

"No!" I respond in horror, turn and close the door, and walk down stairs to the lounge. I find a book in my backpack, that I started reading and never finished. So, I find my place where I had left off, and read for about an hour. When I here John say, "There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere. I'm sorry about that. That was my girl friend, Diane, she just got here today, and we were making up for lost time. We really should figure out a way to signal each other, when we have a girl in the room. Like, I don't know, hang something on the door, like maybe, a note or something."

"Yeah, that would be a good idea, I would hate to keep walking in on you two, like that" I reply.

"Come on, let's get back up stairs, and go to bed, I'm exhausted. We've been fucking like rabbits all evening" he says with a big grin on his face.

I want to puke, but say nothing. We go back upstairs and get ready for bed, climb in, and within two minutes John is snoring softly again. A little while later I finally fall asleep, too.

My alarm wakes me up Saturday morning at quarter to eight. I take off the shorts I wore to bed, put on my robe, grab my shaving kit, shampoo and conditioner, and a towel and head down the hall to the showers. I find the showers empty this early on a Saturday. I shower, then shave and brush my teeth, and head back to my room. John is still snoring softly, and don't want to wake him, there is still something about him I don't trust, but can't put my finger on it. I quietly get dressed and grab my gym bag with my karate gee in it, and leave the room, and head down to the commons for breakfast. I eat by myself, again. Look down at my watch and see it's ten to nine, so head back up to Gary's room. I knock on his door and he opens it after a few seconds.

"Morning Zack, how are you today?" he asks.

"Good, looking forward to this. Are you ready to go?" I ask.

"Yeah, let's go. It's about a ten minutes drive from here; you want to ride with me? No sense taking two cars. Do you even have a car?"

I reply, "Yeah, I have my car here. It doesn't matter to me whose car we take."

"OK, I know the way, so I'll drive" he says. We head down to the parking lot and get in his car and leave the lot.

"Gary, I hope this won't be a problem, I really didn't think it mattered last night, but I want to be completely truthful with you, and don't want to hide anything. I'm gay, and I hope that Jack won't hold that against me and not let me join his dojo." I tell him.

"Zack, that won't be a problem. Jack and his `partner' run the dojo together. And they kind of cater to guys from campus that are having difficulty with other guys harassing or bullying them after they have come out." he responds.

The way he said partner, I could almost see the quotes around it. I say, "Good, I really hoped this would work out. I really want to keep up with my training and didn't want to have to do it on my own." We pull up in front of a nice sized brick building with large plate glass windows so you can see the entire dojo. We head into the dojo and Gary takes me over to a guy that looks like he's about six and a half feet tall. Dark hair, almost black, dark eyes, and is wearing a black gee, with a black belt.

Gary says to him, "Jack, I'd like you to meet Zack Miller. He's a freshman at school and wanted to know if you could take on another student?"

He looks down at me, sticks out his hand, while shaking mine says, "Hi, Zack, nice to meet you. So, are you just starting out in karate or have you been doing it for a while?"

"I've been in karate at home for over ten years, and I'm a black belt" I tell him. "I've competed in a lot of tournaments. The most memorable were three years ago, I came in second place at the all state tournament. Two years ago, I won a smaller tournament. And last year, the most memorable, was winning the all state."

"Holy cow, you must be proud of yourself." he says. Noticing I'm now blushing adds, "Zack that is nothing to be embarrassed about. You should be proud of yourself. I know the hard work that accomplishing something like that takes. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, you were not bragging, you were just letting me know were you are in karate."

"Thanks!" I say. "Can you take on another student?"

"One of your caliber, of course, we can take you on." He smiles down at me. "So, when would you like to get started?"

"Well, Gary brought me, and I guess he has a class today. So if you don't mind, how about now?"

"Fine with me, Gary could you show Zack the changing room, and everything. Then take him to the office so Rich can get him signed up?"

"Sure thing Jack, I'll give him the penny tour!" We walk around a screen wall at the back of the dojo and into another room filled with lockers and benches, "This of course is the changing room. When you get here just grab an empty locker and put your stuff in it, and if you have a lock, I would suggest locking it. Even though Jack and Rich both say that if anyone is ever caught stealing they'll be out on their ass. I just don't trust some of the people that come here. So let's get changed and I'll take you to the office and introduce you to Rich."

We quickly change and head back out to the dojo. He leads me around the outside as to not disturb the class that has just started. We walk over to the office and he introduces me to Rich. Rich and I fill out the paperwork, and we negotiate a membership fee for me, much cheaper than I thought it would be, because of the fact that while I'm here I'll be helping out with the kids and others with lower belts.

I head back out to the dojo and go over to Jack. We bow to each other as is custom in karate and we turn to the class and he introduces me. I tell him that Rich and I came to an agreement on a reduced membership fee, because I wanted to help out with those with lower belts. He tells the class that I was to be treated as an instructor and to listen to me as they listen to him. We all bow to each other and the class resumes.

After class we change back into our clothes and head back to the campus. It's almost eleven thirty so I thank Gary and grab a bite to eat before heading over to the football complex. At the football complex I find the head coaches office with the help of one of the players, and knock on his door.

"Enter!" I hear a very deep male voice say. I open the door and enter. The coach is sitting at his desk looking through a pile of papers sitting there. With out looking up he says, "What?"

"Coach, my name is Zack Miller, I'm in the Visual and Environmental Department, and was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?"

He finally looks up from the papers he's been looking at and looks me over from head to toe. I think I notice him linger on my crouch for a second, but can't be sure. He nods his head and tells me to have a seat, pointing at the chair near his desk. "So, what can I do for you?" he asks.

I explain that I wanted permission to talk to his team hopefully to find a model for both my photography and painting classes. He nods his head again and says, "I think that won't be a problem as long as it doesn't interfere with practice."

I assure him that it won't and that the sessions will take place during open classes that we may have at the same time, and if needed I'll talk to my professors about rearranging my schedule if it came to that.

"Well, we are just about to start afternoon practice, come on. We can talk to the whole team right now." he replies.

"Great" I say. We head out to the field were the whole team is gathering awaiting the start of practice. Coach introduces me to his team and tells them why I'm there. There were a few boos and a get out of here, but for the most part I think everyone just ignored the fact I was there.

As it didn't look like I was going to get any takers, I turn and start to leave when I hear, "Zack, wait up."

I stop and turn back and notice a guy running towards me in full equipment. When he gets to me, he sticks out his hand and we shake. He says, "Nice to see you again Zack, I'm Jason Ferguson."

I look at him questioningly, and respond "I'm sorry, but have we met?"

Taking off his helmet, he says "Yes, I signed you in on freshman orientation." I now recognize him, those piercing blue eyes. He adds "So, you're looking for a model?"

"Yes, I'm willing to pay $50 an hour" I tell him.

"Holy shit, that's a lot of money! What would somebody have to do for you?" he asks.

"Well, just pose for some pictures... in the nude." I tell him.

"Sounds like fun, put I wouldn't want it to interfere with practice or my classes, though"

I say, "No, it won't. I've already told your coach that I'll make any arrangements so it doesn't interfere with the team's schedule, or anyone's classes. If you're interested, why don't we get together and discuss it more. I'll give you my cell phone number and you can just give me a call when and if you want to meet and discuss it further."

"Sounds good, I'm interested. I would like to get together and see what you have in mind, and I could really use the money. I'll give you a call later and we can set up a time to meet?"

"Thank you," I say "I look forward to hearing from you." I give him my cell number and watch him run back to his team. Thinking to myself, I hope he looks as good out of his clothes.

I head back to my side of the campus and dorm. I take the stairs up, when I get to the top and open the door to the hall I can hear screaming coming from my room. The hall is deserted. I walk over to my door and try the knob, it's locked again. I grab my key from my pack and unlock it, and fling the door open. I see John, punch a girl in the face and split her lip wide open. I didn't even think. I just reacted. He's out cold in about fifteen seconds.

"Are you alright?" I ask the dazed girl.

Through her tears she manages to say, "Yeah, I don't know what happened, he just flipped."

"Diane, that's your name, right?" I ask. "I'm calling campus security and you're not leaving here until you press charges against him. Has he done this sort of thing before?"

"No! He's never hit me before."

I grab my cell phone and call campus security. Within about five minutes, there are two officers in my room, and the state police are on their way. Dan, the Junior RA, has informed the Senior RA of what's going on, and he's on his way, too.

By the time the state police get there, John is sitting on his bed in handcuffs and the campus security are talking to him. The officers inform the police what happened, one comes to talk to me, and the other goes to talk to Diane. I tell him what I saw, and what I did, and answer a few questions.

About this time, the Senior DA shows up with the Dean of Students. The state police inform him that John is being arrested for domestic violence, and will be spending the rest of the weekend and probably most of Monday in jail. The Senior DA takes Diane to the campus nurse, and one of the state policemen takes John down to their patrol car. The other stays back and says to Dan, "Can I have I minute alone with him?" nodding towards me.

"Sure, I'll be right outside if you need anything else" he says.

To Dan he says, "That won't be necessary. We have all the information we need. You can go back to your room now." To me, "That was a really good thing you did. Most people would just have turned their heads and looked the other way."

"I only did what I thought was the right thing. I couldn't stand back and let her be treated like that. He could have really hurt her."

"I know, and that's why I'm telling you, you did the right thing, and should be proud of yourself. Well, I better get that asshole to jail, before he tries anything with my partner" he says. He sticks out his hand and as I grab it to shake he adds, "This world could use more people like you, Zack."

"Thanks, that means a lot. Bye and thanks!" I say.

"No, Thank you!" he says as he leaves my room.

It's now about six o'clock so I grab my cell phone and my keys and head down to the commons to get something to eat. As I'm sitting eating my dinner, my cell phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and don't recognize the caller id number. "Hello, this is Zack." I say answering the phone.

"Hi, Zack, it's Jason Ferguson. I was wondering if you we could get together in about a half hour, and discuss me modeling for you?" he says.

"Sure, that would be great. Where do you want to meet?" I ask him.

"Well, how about your dorm room, that way we can have a little privacy, and if you have pictures with you, you can show them to me and I can get a better idea of what you have in mind."

"Sounds good!" I tell him where my dorm is and give him my room number. We say our goodbyes and see you in a little while, and I hang up. This day may just turn back into a good day after all, I think. I remember how he looked the other day when he checked me in, and again in his football gear, his chiseled features, beautiful blonde shoulder length hair, and those blue, blue eyes. I grin as I recall the size of the bulge in his pants, and hope it wasn't all cup.

I continue going over the features of his body that I could remember from our two brief meetings, and trying to imagine the rest. I wasn't paying much attention of what was going on around me until I got to the door at the top of the stairs and opened it, almost walking into someone's back.

"Oh, excuse me" I said, stopping about two inches from someone's back. The person turns around and I realize it's the Dean of Students.

He turns to me and says, "You're Zack Miller, aren't you? I need to talk to you, right now."

"Of course, Sir, where would you like to talk?" I ask him.

"Let's use your room, as your roommate want be back tonight, and we can have some privacy."

I open my door, and let him in. He looks around the room and smiles at the display shelf over my computer, saying "I see why your ex-roommate didn't stand a chance."

"Ex-roommate?" I question him.

"Yes, he will be notified, as soon as we can get a message to him, that he has been expelled from Harvard. We will have his things packed and stored for him until he can make arrangements to have them picked up. I wanted to talk to you, and see if you wanted us to find you another roommate?"

"Well, actually Sir, if someone needs the room, I guess I don't have a choice. But, if not, then I would like to have the room to myself, if that is possible."

"Yes, that's possible. We have already made all room assignments as I'm sure you know, and actually after what you did for that young girl, I can pretty much assure you, you can have, this room, every year by yourself." he says smiling at me. "Take that as a little reward for what you did earlier."

"Thank you, Sir, but as I told the police officer, I only did what I hope anyone would do, if they were in the same situation." I respond embarrassedly.

"Well, I'm going to put it in your file that you are to remain in this room, without a roommate, for however long you remain at this school." he says.

Standing, he sticks out his hand for me to shake, I grasp it and say, "Thank you Sir. That is very kind of you."

"No, what you did was kind. I feel like this school owes you and this is about the only way I can think of to repay you. Well, I'll leave you be, now. And I'll make sure that there are a couple of people here tomorrow to pack up John's things, and get them out of your way. I think we can get rid of the extra furniture, too."

"Thank you Sir and good night." I say.

He smiles at me, says "Good night young man, and Thank You!" He turns and leaves my room.

About thirty seconds after the door closes, there is a knock on it. I open it and Jason is standing there in shorts, a t-shirt and sandals. I quickly look him up and down, and realize that I couldn't tell if he still had on his cup or not, the bulge in the front of his shorts was huge.

"What's up?" he asks. Not waiting for my response, adds, "Dan, your JDA, stopped me just before I knocked on your door a couple of minutes ago. Saying that the dean was in there with you and I should wait until he left. What's going on?"

"Come in, I'll explain everything." I explain what happened earlier, and what the Dean had said. We spend the next couple hours talking and getting to know each other. I show him the pictures I have with me that I had taken, and what I had in mind for him. I also told him that that depended on assignments, too.

"So, now what, do you want to see what you have to work with?" he asks.

"I'd love to" I tell him.

He stands, and strips right there. Holding his arms up out at shoulder height, turns and asks, "Do I measure up to your past models?"

As he finishes his turn, facing me, I think, Oh! Boy! Do you ever! His cock is hanging down between his thighs about eight inches long and about two and a half inches thick. But say, "Yes, you have a nice body and can't wait to get my first assignment so we can start working together. There is one more thing that I think I should tell you, before you commit to anything, though."

"What's that?" he asks.

"I'm gay. If you have a problem with that, let me know now, and I'll try to find someone else" I tell him.

He hesitates for a second, and then says, "I don't have a problem with you being gay, and I hope you don't have a problem with me being straight?" He laughs.

Laughing I say, "Nope, no problems here. So now I guess we just need to find a time that we're both able to do this."

"Well, with football practice in the evenings, and weekends, and games will be starting soon. I guess that only leaves any open periods we may have at the same time." he says, grabbing his clothes and redresses.

"Well, I've got a free second period on Wednesday, and another, Friday afternoon." I inform him.

"Boy, I wish everything here worked out as easy for me as it seems to for you. Wednesday second period is good for me. So where do you want to do this?" he asks.

"How about right here in my room? John's things and the extra furniture will be removed tomorrow, so we will have that whole side of the room to do the shoots" I explain. "I think I'll call my parents after you leave and see if they can bring some of my stuff from my studio and I can set up something right here."

"That sounds cool. Yes, I'm in." He says, smiling at me.

"Jason, thank you, you won't regret this." I tell him.

"Well, if you don't start calling me Jay, the deals off. Besides you just saw me naked, you can start considering me as a friend. And my friends call me Jay." he says, almost reprimanding me.

"Alright, Jay, it is then." We shake hands and I thank him again, and walk him out to his car. "I'll see you Wednesday morning." I say.

He responds, "Yep, see you then." He gets in his car and drives off.

I go back up to my room and grab my phone and hit the speed dial button for home. Mom answers it on the second ring. "Zack, is everything alright? Why are you calling so late?" she asks, I could here the panic in her voice.

I look over at the clock on my night stand and see it's almost eleven thirty. "I didn't realize how late it was Mom, I'm sorry." I tell her of everything that had happened today, leaving out the fact that I really loved Jay's body, and I hope I can keep my hands to myself while working with him. I ask her, if she and Dad could bring over some of the stuff from my studio, tomorrow. She says, yes, they didn't have anything planned. I tell her what I'll need from my studio then add, "Mom, can you bring Josh's portrait with you, too. I miss not having with me."

"Of course, Honey, I couldn't believe it when you left it hanging in your room. Josh's parent's dropped of a letter for you and asked that when we saw you, to give it to you, they couldn't bring themselves to mail it and said that they wanted us with you when you read it. Zach, I think it's Josh's handwriting on the envelope."

"Oh, no, it's a suicide note from him, isn't it?" I ask.

"I don't know, but don't jump to conclusions until you read it, OK?" she says. I could almost hear the tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Ok, Mom, I won't. Hey, I was just thinking, can you guys bring my bike up to? With the price of gas it would be a lot cheaper to ride that around instead of driving my car."

"Hang on, let me ask you Dad." She says. I can here her talking to him, but can't make out what he is saying. She comes back on the phone and says, "Your father says, that he should be able to get everything in the truck and be there around two or so. Is that alright, Honey?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I love you guys and I'll see you tomorrow" I say.

"We love you, too, and we'll see you tomorrow. Bye" she says.

"Bye, Mom." I say, and hang up the phone. I start wondering what the letter from Josh could possibly be, if not a suicide note. Why had his parents waited three months to give it to me? I start to cry, and think what he could have said in the letter. Did he regret our relationship? Did he truly love me? Why did he kill himself? I eventually cry myself to sleep.

I sleep badly the whole night; images flash through my over loaded eighteen year old mind. I see Josh hanging in his basement; John hitting Diane in our room; glimpses of Jay's naked body. I wake up around seven and unable to go back to sleep, I get up and go for a run. I can't think of anything except the flashes of images and imaginings that had overtaken me in my sleep. I think, God, am I going insane? Overridden with emotion, I continue to run until my legs feel like they are going to give out. But, still, I refuse to stop; I push on, not thinking of where I'm going. It feels like the ghosts of my past are chasing me.

I hear a car horn blare, and come back to my senses. I realize I had just run out into the crosswalk without looking. The driver yells out his open window, "Watch where you're going kid! Do you want to get yourself killed?"

I move out of the road, and look around to try and figure out where I am. The area looks familiar, but at first I can't place it. I walk around for a few minutes trying to get my bearings, when I here "Zack, are you alright?"

I turn around and see Jack standing there, I say, "Yeah, I was just going for a run, and I wasn't thinking about where I was going."

"Come on, let's go into the dojo. Get you some water and get you cooled down." We walk a few blocks further down and come to Jack's dojo. He unlocks the door and holds it open for me. We enter and he locks the door from the inside. "Come on, I've got some water in the office." He leads me to the office, makes me sit in one of the chairs, and gets me a bottle of water from a small fridge. I drink it as if I haven't had anything to drink in days. "Zack, what's wrong?" he asks me.

"Nothing, I'll be fine." I respond to him. I want to tell him everything, but don't want to burden him with my problems. "Do you know what time it is, I forgot to grab my watch when I left my dorm?" I ask.

He looks down at his watch and says, "It's almost nine thirty. Zack are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, but I had better get back to school. I'm sorry I worried you, and thanks for the water. I'll be alright." I can't believe I've been running blind for two and a half hours. I really must be going crazy.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride back to the school. You look like you've run through hell and back." I accept the ride without argument. I can't imagine having to walk the five miles back to school. I wonder where I had run in my emotional state. I couldn't remember anything, except, the images that had flashed in my minds eye.

Once there, I head back to my room, grab my shower stuff, and head down the hall to the showers. There are a few guys in different states of dress. I try to check out a couple of the god looking ones, but can't seem to get my mind into it. I shower and head back to my room, collapse on my bed and fall asleep almost instantly.

I awake, later, to a knock on my door. I look over at the alarm clock and see it's a little after noon. I get out of bed and open the door. There are three guys standing there with boxes and utility carts. They're dressed in school maintenance uniforms. The oldest of the three says, "We're here to pack up your roommates personal belongings and to remove the extra furniture from the room. If you would please show us which side of the room was his? We will be out of your hair as soon as possible."

I open the door all the way for him and tell him, "That is John's side of the room." I point towards his bed. They quickly and efficiently pack all of John's belongings into the boxes and take them down stairs to their waiting truck. I sit at my computer not really thinking or doing anything, just staring at the screen. They disassemble the bed and take it away. Then the small dresser; that was in the closet, the night stand, and computer desk disappear down the stairs, too.

The older gentleman that had addressed me comes back to my room, and double checks they have everything. He says to me, which I barely hear, "It looks like we have everything. We'll be leaving now." I mumble thanks to him, without looking away from the computer screen, and he leaves closing my door.

"Get a grip on yourself, Zack!" I say to the now empty room. I feel like I'm emotionally drained. I can't wait for my parents to get here, but then again I'm dreading it at the same time. At about quarter to two there is another knock on my door. I get up, open it, and see my parents standing there. I start crying as soon as I see them. They come into my room, set the boxes down they are carrying and pull me into a hug together; Mom holding me to her and Dad with his arms around both of us. We stand in the open door for a few minutes, and then Mom slowly moves me to my bed while Dad closes the door.

"Zack, what's wrong? Did something else happen?" Mom asks me.

I can hear the love in her voice and start to calm a little. I shake my head.

"Then what's wrong?" Dad asks.

I look up at him and then over at Mom and say slowly, "I had a really bad dream last night. I guess I let my imagination get away from me."

Mom says, "A bad dream about what?" I tell them about my dreams, the run, and how I'm dreading reading Josh's note. Mom says, "I shouldn't have told you about that. I should have waited until we got here and then just given it to you." she reaches into her purse and pulls out an envelope and hands it to me. "Tim and Lisa couldn't bring themselves to clean out his room until last week. That has been lying, unnoticed, on his dresser since he died." Mom tells me.

I look down at the envelope and see my name written in Josh's typical jock hand writing. I take a deep breath and open it; take out the letter and unfold it. Look back at both of my parents for reassurance and read:

Zack,

You have always been my most beloved friend, and then my lover. You kept my secret and for that I am deeply grateful. There is no way to put how I feel about you into words except that I love you with my whole heart. I know what I'm about to do will hurt you, and break your heart. But, please don't blame yourself. I thought I was going to be ok with what happened at school today, but when I got home there was a message from Coach on the answering machine. He asked if it was true that I am gay. He also said that if it was, even though the season was over, I was off the team. And he was going to call my coach at college and inform him. He said they will probably pull my scholarship and my football career would be over before it even started. Football has been my dream since before I can remember.

Zack, please don't blame yourself for this; it's not your fault. I know in time you will get over what I'm about to do, but don't let it ruin your life. You're so good looking I know, in time, you will find someone to fill the whole I'll leave in your heart. But, please do me a favor, never forget me.

Zack, I Love You! And Goodbye my love, Josh.

Unable to speak I hand the note to Mom; she reads it and hands it to Dad. After Dad reads it, he comes over to my bed and sits down on the other side of me and puts his arm around me and says, "Zack, you understand what Josh is trying to say, don't you? He's telling you to mourn him and then move on with your life. He's trying to tell you, not to end up in the same place he did. It's like he's giving you his permission to find someone that can help you get over what he did to you."

"Zack, are you alright?" Mom asks.

Some how I find my voice, and say, "Yeah, I will be, some day" For some reason I realize I do feel a little better. I wipe the tears from my face and look at my parents on either side of me. "I hope" I add.

We continue to sit on my bed holding each other for a while. Then Dad says to me, "Come on, we had better go down and get your stuff out of the truck." We head down to the parking lot and get the things I had asked Mom and Dad to bring for me; most of it in boxes in the back. Mom opens the door to the truck and removes something from the back seat. I know even from the back its Josh's portrait. We take my things back up to my room. Mom stays there, while Dad and I go back down to unload my motorcycle. He lowers the tailgate of the truck and we place the wide ramp on it, I climb up, undo the tie down straps, and lower the machine down the ramp.

"We brought your extra helmet, too. Just incase you want to take someone for a ride with you." He says to me getting them from the back seat. I find an empty slot for my bike in the lot. Dad fishes in a toolbox in the back of the truck and pulls out a hammer and hook, "For your painting" he says. And we head back up stairs.

Mom is already unpacking the things they had brought, setting up my lights and easel, putting my other things in John's now empty closet. Dad asks "Where do you want your painting."

I think for a minute and then ask, "Where do you think it will look the best?"

"How about, over your bed, that's where you had it at home?" Mom says.

I think about that for a minute or two then agree that would be the best place for it. Dad hangs it over the center of my bed and I stand back to get a better look. "That looks perfect. I'm not sure why, but I'm actually feeling better having it here."

"Well, that's good. Zack are you going to be alright? We can spend the night at a hotel close by if you want us to?" Mom asks.

"No, Mom, I'll be alright. You guys don't have to stay here just because I got a little emotional. I'll be fine. I'm already feeling a lot better, just seeing you guys, reading Josh's note, and seeing his picture. I can't explain it, but I feel better."

"Ok, Honey, if you're sure, we had better get going. I don't want to be to late getting back home." Mom says.

"I'll walk you down." I say to them. We head down stairs and over to Dad's truck. "Thank you for bringing me my stuff, I really appreciate it. You guys mean the whole world to me. And yes, Mom, I'm alright."

We hug and say goodbye, and I kiss them both. They get in the truck and I stand there watching them drive away. I really do feel better. I realize I'm starving as I haven't eaten all day, so head over to the commons and get something to eat. After eating, I feel even better and head up to my room.

I sit in my chair at my computer, looking at Josh's painting hanging over my bed. Think to myself, I forgive you, and I will love you until the day I die and we are reunited. Physically and emotionally drained from the day, I strip naked, crawl into bed naked, and for the first time since Josh died, I reach down and start stroking my aching cock. I feel the rest of the tension leave as I slowly jack off. I manipulate my dick with my hand until I shoot cum all over my chest and stomach. I grab a towel from the bathroom to clean up with, climb back into bed and fall soundly asleep.

Author's note: I know there is not much sex in this chapter, but I wanted to get the back story done, and set the stage for the rest of the story. I would like to also apologize for the length. I know it's long, but please bear with me. Any comments or feed back can be sent to: kk.LoneWolf.37@gmail.com