Date: Thu, 19 Jan 2006 01:32:44 EST From: RitchChristopher@cs.com Subject: briarwood:briarwood-u-58 All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language, please exit now. "BRIARWOOD" Copyright Ritchris, 2005 aka "Whence Cometh My Help" Copyright Ritchris, 2003 Revised Version A dramatic saga by Ritch Christopher <><><><><>> BOOK SIX "BRIARWOOD U" Chapter-Fifty-eight <><><><><><><><><><><><><><> Don Ridgeway, the sports announcer for the local radio station MAN-780, was calling the play-by-play for Friday night's game. "Ladies and gentlemen, there's only three minutes and fifteen seconds of play left in the game, but that doesn't matter. This game was decided at the end of the first quarter as BU led the score thirty-five to zip! The Briarwood team has been fired up all night since Coach Kerr surprised everyone with the new quarterback, Tom Summerfield. I don't know where the coach found him, but folks with the time remaining in the game, BU. has driven up the score to sixty-three to ten, with Summerfield throwing four touchdown passes and running another one into the end zone by himself. Tom has revitalized this team to look like champions. He is certainly what the team's needed all year. I just can't wait to see what he does next week when BU has to face Gladstone, who is currently the league leader in its division." During the last two minutes of play, BU scored again and with the kick conversion, the score ran up to seventy points which was an all time high record for any team within the conference. Cheerleaders and girl groupies gathered outside the locker room entrance to cheer but mostly swoon as the handsome new hero of the team emerged. Tom could've had his pick of any girl in the group for a quick fuck or blow job. What none of the ladies' chorus knew was that the only fucking and sucking Tom had seen all week was in the dorm with the center, Harm. It was too bad that Sandy Cummings, a sophomore cheerleader, didn't know about Tom's sexual preference, because from the first time she saw him throw a touchdown pass, she aimed her sights on the new quarterback. Sandy was not a cheap slut, but it was not beneath her to give any guy head on a first date. This was just a trait of her natural curiosity. Whenever she looked at a male, her eyes always first fixed on his crotch, even before she noticed his face. Yep, she was a crotchwatcher from the word "go", if only her inquisitiveness stopped there, but it didn't. Sandy wanted to see the 'jewels' in the flesh. She taught herself how to weigh the guy's scrotum in grams as she held it while gorging the shaft deeply in her mouth. She could care less about fucking. That involved too much physical displeasure and usually a mess cleaning up her vaginal emissions, not to mention the discomfort she felt while she was being humped. Giving a blow job was her specialty and she knew she was an expert. She had enough experience to know exactly where to lick, how much pressure to apply to the shaft, and usually how many strokes it would take to get her victim off. She had perfected her methods down to a science. On some unsuspecting males, she had made them climax in less than ten seconds. She'd learned how to hold her breath and flick the semen deposit to the back of her throat with her tongue and swallow the whole load in one gulp. Her professionalism had made more than one guy question his virility on so short an episode. Most guys were more embarrassed and angry, while she was pleased that the ordeal was over so quickly and her curiosity had been satisfied until she eyed the next guy she was curious about. She decided she WOULD have Tom Summerfield, and that's all there was to it! There was a team victory party planned at the Lion's Roar Pub after the game. Since it was the team's biggest win ever, the revelry of the party had to match it. This type celebration was not to Tom's liking. He knew he would be expected to attend and since Jim and Harm would both be there, the affair would be more tolerable. Tom's nightly sexual jaunts with Harm were top secret from everyone, including Jim, at that time. Tom hadn't fallen for Harm emotionally, but the sex was good. That was enough for now. No romantic entanglement or third-party jealousy to cope with and that's the way Tom wanted to keep it. Tom had his own curiosity about whom Harm had sex with before he arrived at Briarwood U. to become Harm's partner. Were there more guys on the team besides Harm that liked to fool around. Tom's thoughts went back to that day in the shower with Phil, Wylie, and Howie. The three of them seemed all too familiar with one another as they stood there covering Harm's prone body with their male fluid. If none of the three were gay or were experienced in gay activities, Tom didn't want to take the chance of revealing his own sexuality or Harm's, for that matter. But still...it might be challenging to find out, provided he did it discretely. The Lion's Roar was jam-packed to the hilt with fans, parents, and teammates. Sounds from U2 and Matchbox Twenty could be heard a block away. As soon as Tom entered the door, following Harm, the team broke out in a rousing rendition of "Hail to the Chief", with each guy placing his hand to his mouth imitating trumpet sounds. The guys all bowed to Tom, while the gals curtsied. They had had nothing this big to cheer about all year and everyone took full advantage of the moment. Tom was modestly embarrassed and tried to get them to rise out of their bows and curtseys. The townspeople and fans began singing, "For he's a jolly good fellow" at full voice. Jim walked toward Tom and gave him a big hug. It was the first time the two of them had embraced since spending the night together in the Jim's guest room. "Thanks, big guy", Jim said. "Call it, 'e pluribus unum', Coach," Tom replied. "I know you're right!" Jim answered. "Is this male bonding or can a cheerleader pay homage to the champion?" asked Sandy, as she watched Tom and Jim embrace. "Come on in, Sandy, there's enough to go around for everybody," Jim said to her. "Hi, I'm Sandy," she said to Tom as she approached him. "Glad to meet you, Sandy. I'm Tom." he replied, but barely got the words out before she had her arms around him and planted a humongous kiss on Tom's lips. Tom's mouth was open as he was prepared to say something else, but Sandy took advantage of the situation and rammed her tongue into Tom's mouth. Tom managed to pull his head back just a little, but Sandy tightened her embrace and moved her lips to Tom's left ear and whispered, "Tell me, Tom, just how big is your dick?" Tom was a gentleman and didn't want to make a scene but his first impulse was to pry Sandy's arms from his body and push her backward. Instead he eased back with enough force, though not noticeable to any observers, to free himself. "I don't kiss and tell," was all he said to her. "I guess I'll just have to find out for myself." she said. Harm and Jim looked at each other, knowing that Tom was in a small quandary. It was Harm who saved the moment. "Hey, Tom, where's my hug? I think you see enough of my backside when I snap the ball to you." Harm politely pushed Sandy out of the way to put his arms around his quarterback. "Thanks, buddy." Tom said to Harm in a low inaudible voice. "My, my, what a display of sportsman-like bonding! " Sandy said, almost smirking, "...makes a girl wish she could join the team! Must be a lot of fun in the showers...huh, guys?" Phil spoke up loud enough for everyone to hear, "Sandy, you can come shower with us any time you like. Just make sure you have your own soap hanging securely on a rope around your neck!" This remark prompted a huge laugh from all the teammates. "Yeah, Sandy," Wylie chimed in, "I need someone to wash my back! There's this one spot I can't seem to reach, so it never gets washed." "Is that where that foul odor's coming from during practice?" Howie asked. "Nah, that's that clot of snot you keep in your sinuses from the last time you had a real date." Wylie retorted. "If the old Doc Foster ever checked it, he'd find out your carrying a dose of Chlamydia or worse!" "God, you're gross!" Howie said. "No, I'm just careful where I put my mouth!" Wylie answered. "Shit, I don't put my mouth where you put yours without a bun covered in mustard and relish!" "I'd use a bun, but they don't make 'em long enough!" "Sure they do! Just open a can of biscuits! They're called pigs-in-a-blanket." "Oh, yeah? You still believe you get a yeast infection from drinking beer!" None of the team took these good-humored remarks seriously and everyone had a good laugh...all except Sandy. She wasn't sure if they were kidding or not, but she, sure as hell, was gonna find out. Dean Connelly was beaming with joy as he brought Tom's Uncle Ted over to congratulate Tom over the victory. Ted was even more pleased to see the drastic change for the better Tom had made in only one week. Richard Connelly had given most of the credit to Jim, which in its own way made him a hero of sorts. Jim was pleased as punch to see Father Cliff and Roger as they entered the pub. He made his way through the crowd to greet them. "Hey, Coach!" Cliff yelled, beaming. "Cheers to the conquering hero!" Roger, quickly added "Hiya, Father! Roger!" Jim replied back, over the noise of the crowd and music. "Here he is, your biggest fan!" Cliff said, pushing Roger closer to Ed. "Great game, Coach." Roger said, extending his hand to shake Jim's. "That had to be the greatest game I've ever seen BU play!" "Thanks, Roger. When the season started, we kept losing and I was ready to come to your Institute to see if I could recruit some of your dischargees!" Roger was not only one of the richest and nicest men in the world, he was one of the best looking. Roger had more charisma than all of the Kennedy's and half of the Hollywood hunks. No wonder Cliff wasn't ashamed to admit he was gay. Who wouldn't have fallen for Roger? Of course, Cliff's good looks were not to be dismissed by anyone. Together Roger and Cliff were like fragrant pollen to a swarm of bees. Everyone wanted to gather around them. Any lifelong resident of Briarwood would easily say that Roger and Cliff were responsible for making Briarwood what it was. Roger's Institute had all but conquered HIV and AIDS. The medical facility was world-renowned. Cliff's popularity in the gay world had quadrupled the capacity of St. Genesius since he arrived there to become rector. They were celebrities wherever they went and everyone just HAD to a glimpse of them or a handshake. Their beauty and masculinity complemented each other, and yet, they were openly gay. Neither of them were afraid to face the world with their relationship. "You wanna see if I can get us a table in the corner, where it's quieter and we might sit and talk?" Cliff asked. "That would be great, Father!" Cliff elbowed his way through the mob and like some holy or unholy phenomenon, an empty table seemed to appear in the far corner of the pub. It was like the table had been reserved for him and no one had dared to sit at it, in spite of the huge crowd. Roger followed Cliff and soon Jim saw Cliff's hand beckoning him to join them. For some strange reason, it WAS quieter at the table. Jim had brought his drink with him. Roger went to the bar to get drinks for Cliff and him which gave Jim a few moments 'alone' with Cliff. "How ARE things?" Cliff asked. "Not as well as I'd like." Jim confessed. "Between you and Nina or you and your new friend?" "Oh, Nina and I are fine. She's a bit more reticent about encouraging my affair than when it first started." "Maybe she thought you were getting too serious and the new relationship might take you away from her." "That's a possibility, Cliff. I thought about that...but then, something else happened and now I don't know where I stand with either of them." "Wanna talk about it or wait and come by my office tomorrow or later in the week?" "Cliff, I didn't want to cheat on Nina! It was practically her idea that made me do it in the first place. I thought it might be a test she was putting me through to see how strong hers and my relationship is...or was. But, then, I must've gone to the extremes with my feelings over the guy. I was even ready to tell him I loved him and see how I felt about Nina and loving two people as I discussed with you." "What happened, Jim?" "The kid turned the cards on me and cheated on me. I caught him in bed with another guy." "Jesus! How do you feel about him now?" Cliff asked, concerned. "I don't know. I guess I'm lucky. If I'd told him how I felt and then broke the same news to Nina...and THEN he cheated, I'd've been a goddamned fool. I wouldn't have HIM or Nina." "This guy whom your friend cheated with. Do you think they're serious about each other?" "Hell, I don't know. The other guy is NOT even his type. Shit, that's a laugh, thinking that I was his type! The fickleness of misguided youth! But I was misguided as well." "I'm sorry, Jim." Cliff said. "What are you going to do? Do you want him back, knowing he might hurt you again...also, knowing you might harm your marriage to Nina irreparably?" "Fuck! How should I know? I've opened up all these strange feelings for someone and now that they're out, I don't know where to put them or what to do with them." "Jim, would it help if I talked to your young friend?" "I don't know." "You're not in a confessional and I'm not bound by my oath of confidentiality, but as a friend, would you mind telling me who he is? I can assume he's a member of your team...and since Roger and I are your number one supporters, maybe we know him and know things about him that you don't." "I doubt that, Cliff. He's only been in Briarwood a couple of weeks." "You mean...?" "Yes, I do, Cliff," "Holy Christ," Cliff sighed. "Couldn't you have fallen for a teammate a little less handsome, less talented, and less popular?" "No, it took a star for me to hang my hopeless wish on." "Jesus! Whom did he cheat on you with?" Jim paused. He was revealing more than he ever should, but if he couldn't trust his own priest, then who could he trust? "I caught him with...Harm." "You can't be serious!" "I wish I weren't!" Jim stated. "Jim, get real! Look at the two of them! What could Tom possibly see in Harm that he couldn't see in you?" "Youth, perhaps!" "I don't buy that!" "I don't either." Roger returned to the table with two mugs of beer and Cliff's and Jim's conversation came to a halt. "Your new quarterback is quite exciting to watch," Roger said. "Yeah, on and off the field!" Jim uttered, without thinking. "Pardon?" Roger said. "I mean, he's brought new life to the team and the whole student body at BU. He's the new hero." Jim quickly added, trying to cover the faux pas he had just made. "It's a good thing you found him and also that he delivered what the team needed. Hell, I was ready to buy you a quarterback, silently," Roger said. "Roger, NFL quarterbacks don't play on college teams!" Cliff told him wryly. "Who said anything about the NFL. I was ready to produce a television show kinda like 'American Idol' and have quarterbacks compete for a full ride scholarship...ONLY if they played for BU. I can see now I don't need to do that now. What's his name...Tom?" "Tom Summerfield." "Any relation to Ted Summerfield, the attorney?" "Ted is Tom's uncle." "Well, I'll be damned! I'll have to get Walter, my attorney, to throw a few accounts Ted's way." "I...I don't think Tom and Ted get along all that well together." "Then what can I do to see that Tom stays here? You find out what he wants and I'll see to it that he gets it. Jim, I haven't been this excited about a game in years." "Well, Roger, you know he can't accept gifts due to the NCAA ruling." "Then, if he stays and graduates from BU, I'll see he gets what he wants AFTER he wins the next few seasons. That kid is REALLY something!" "Roger, that's real hero worship!" Cliff said to him. "How about it if I get Jim to get you an autographed jersey signed by Tom?" "Mark my words, Cliff, that kid is gonna be famous. Get me the jersey and when he's drafted by the NFL, we'll put it on EBay and auction if off for the Institute. You know, I'd love to see him come by Cole and meet some of the patients. It would give them a big thrill." Jim was relieved to see that Roger knew nothing about his secret crush on Tom. "I'll get you both one, different team colors, and you can put one on two walls at your estate." "That's a deal!" Cliff said. "Jim, don't let us keep you from your team and celebration, so why don't you go join them and leave us old folks here in the 'amen' corner?" "I'm awfully glad that you both came to the game." Jim said, "We haven't missed one yet!" Cliff replied. "I believe that you and I made a bargain, Jim." "We did?" "Roger and I came to the game and I think I'm supposed to see you at mass Sunday." "That's right, I did promise." "Why don't you bring your quarterback?" Roger asked. "I mean, he's new in town and maybe doesn't have a church to go to. I'm sure you'd be the first to agree that Tom would make a fine Anglican." "Rog, are you trying to tell me that you have designs on the star of the team?" Cliff joked. "My God! Who wouldn't...male or female? Just look at him!" Roger joked back. Jim knew Roger wasn't serious but it was fun to hear Cliff and him having fun. The two of them were the most attractive men in the place and their love was obviously solid between them. Jim said his goodbyes to them and thanked them, especially Cliff, for the private chat, and left them to join the members of the team at the bar. Jim didn't look back, but he knew Cliff was watching with interest on every move that Jim made. Jim had to be careful about every look that he gave Tom. Cliff knew how Jim felt about Tom, but Jim couldn't let anyone else suspect anything. As for Nina and Jim, neither of them had spoken of the night that Jim spent with Tom since it happened. Jim and Nina both were under the assumption that it was a one-time thing and there was no reason to discuss it unless the occasion arose for a repeat performance between Tom and Jim or any other male he might be attracted to, which was highly unlikely. Jim suspected that Tom was being physically or sexually satisfied by Harm and if that's what it took to keep Tom happy in school AND on the football field, that's all that concerned him at present. Jim was still amazed he had never noticed any sexual deviation from the norm in Harm. But then, why should he? Jim wasn't looking for any. However, it did make him look askance at the rest of the team and wondered if there were any more like him. Phil? Wylie? Howie? No way!! Hell, if there was any chance and the student body found out about it, BU would have to change the team mascot...maybe to a duckbill platypus or a horned-bill pollywog or something else as strange.. Jim hadn't forgotten what happened between Tom and him as Jim was still using Tom as his daily masturbatory fantasy when he showered at the house every morning. The sex had been good, exciting, and tremendously satisfying, but it wasn't worth losing his marriage, his job, or his reputation over. Jim just wanted Tom to keep his escapades discreet because if the wrong party ever found out, there was no telling what he would do or what would happen to the team if they should find out. The victory party ended around 1:30 AM and everyone went home to sleep off the celebration. As a bonus, the Saturday practice was cancelled, so no one had to get up early. On the way back to the dorm, Harm and Tom made plans to spend at least the early part of the night together in Tom's room. They had been able to sneak four cans of beer past Harry, the dorm monitor, who was halfway dozing, considering the hour. Harm was still filled with excitement over the win and the chief part he had played in Tom's making the victory possible. To Harm, Tom was equally his teammate, his hero, and his bed partner. Their sex was not serious but it was fun. They had tried everything in every possible position at least they thought, but somehow during the day, one or the other of them managed to think of something new to try. It had become a game after 'game' practice to see who could think of the most impossible new ways to have sex. What was even more fun was making up names for the different acts and positions. There was the "Penis Flytrap", "Bombs Away Over Tokyo" which involved a tiny Japanese toy. "The Sliding Whistle", complete with sound effects, "Bowling Balls" needing a lot of oil and ten maraschino cherries, "Live Grenade in the Foxhole" which only worked after they had eaten a pot of white beans, and their favorite which they called "The Three B's---"Boomerang", "Bonsai" and "Bazooka", the bubble gum, not the weapon. None of these events came close to actual love making but they were great to try with your best butt buddy. Two-thirty AM found Harm and Tom sitting on the side of Tom's bed, downing the beers and watching some old Three Stooges movie on TV with the sound turned down low. They had completely undressed as soon as they got into the room and were resting a bit before beginning their nightly frolicking or as they preferred to call it, "The Other Olympic Games". Each of them sat there wondering what the other one had in store for him with great anticipation. "Whose turn is it to start?" Harm asked, as they downed the last of the beers. "Yours," Tom said, "I went first last time." "OK. I want to try something completely different tonight." Harm said. "Go to it, buddy! You make the rules and I'll play your game. Just remember, when you're finished, I can get even with you if I have to." Tom replied. "What do you want me to do?" "Lie down on your back while I turn off the lights and make sure the door is locked." "OK, I'm ready! Now what?" "Just lie still and don't say a word." Harm said to him. Slowly, Harm lay down on top of Tom, completely covering Tom's body with his own. No one moved for a minute while they felt their penises touching and reaching erections at the same time. It was Harm's turn to try something he had dreamt of, but had always been too afraid of to try on Tom. He gently placed his mouth on Tom's lips and kissed him for the first time. This tender gesture caught Tom off guard. This was something he had never expected. Harm pried Tom's lips apart with his tongue and kissed him passionately, exploring the inside of Tom's mouth. Tom kept waiting for the joke to break up the seriousness of the moment. But Harm was relentless. He continued to kiss Tom in a way that suddenly made their game take on a whole new meaning. Harm wasn't playing a game anymore. He wanted to make love as a lover. Tom still kept thinking this was the warm-up to a funny payoff...but Tom also felt if this is what Harm wanted to do, why not? There was no harm in trying. God knows, they had done practically everything else except this. Harm's serious lovemaking was making Tom more aroused that he'd ever been before...at least with Harm. It was a bit scary. Was Harm falling in love with him? And what was Tom feeling? Harm sensed a reluctance on Tom's part by his lack of participation. At that moment, Harm stopped and looked in Tom's eyes, the best he could due to the darkness of the room with the only light coming from the television. "What's the matter? You don't wanna play my game?" Harm asked. "Sure, if I know you are playing." "What do you mean?" "You're getting kinda serious, aren't you? Or is this part of the act?" Tom asked. "I'm not quite sure...It's something I've been doing a lot of thinking about. I guess I wanted to see how you would react if our actions had some real meaning." Harm replied. "Then you're putting me to some kind of test?" "Maybe. You know some guys actually DO fall in love." "Is that what you're trying to tell me? You're falling in love with me?" "I don't know the answer to that either. I thought if I tried to go a bit beyond our normal limitations, maybe you'd give me some kind of indication of how you felt about me." "We're buddies, pals, teammates, friends. I've never thought about us becoming anything more serious. I don't know how it would work out if we actually became lovers. That puts a different perspective on our sexual wing-dings." "Does it scare you?", Harm asked hesitantly. "A bit. We both know the chance we're taking just by doing what we usually do, but after we finish, either you go to your room or I come back to mine and that's the end of it until we're both ready to get our rocks off again, the next night...But, falling in love...not with just you...but anyone. Shit man! We'd spend most of the day thinking about one another...then there's always the chance one of us would get jealous or stray and have sex with another partner...Then we'd have to face all that crap of arguing or making up and begging for forgiveness. I've always thought that that part of a relationship was bullshit and that's why I've never entered into a relationship." "What would you say if I told you I've been having strong feelings about you?" Harm asked. "I'd say you've had too much to drink tonight and it's the beer talking, not you. Why don't you wait until you're sober in a night or two and see if you can still say that!" "Jesus! You make me feel like a fucking asshole." "Why? We're buddies! We can say anything we want to each other without having regrets. Very frankly, I'm flattered that you think you feel that way about me!" Tom assured him. "But you don't feel that way about me and I'm embarrassed as hell." "Don't be! Shit, man! We suck each other's dicks, we swallow each other's cream, we fuck each other's brains out, so what's the big deal if we kiss and you stick your tongue in my mouth? God knows, we've done everything else!" "I know, but we've never kissed before and I wanted that to mean something special...not only to me, but to you, too." "It did mean something special! Here, let me show you I have no hard feelings about it! Well, that's not exactly the truth, I did get one hard feeling...between my legs. Come here, buddy, I'll kiss you." "No! I don't want you to kiss me. I'd rather wait until you want to for the same reason that I did." "All right, if that's the way you want it...I'll wait. Maybe, some time, some night, I MIGHT feel that way." Tom said. "I guess, I've spoiled the whole night for both of us." "Not entirely, neither of us has shot off yet. After all your romanticizing, if we don't get off now, we'll be walking stiff-legged all next week suffering from blue balls." Neither of them said a word for a couple of seconds. The room was still...almost, but the two of them heard a thump from beneath the bed. "What was that?" Harm said, suddenly. "I think someone's in the room with us." Tom said in a loud whisper. "You're kidding!" They looked at each other and Tom made a motion that someone or something was hiding under the bed. Tom looked at Harm and mouthed the words, "On three." The two of them jumped up stark naked and turned the bed over on its end. The two of them almost died from embarrassment when they discovered that Sandy Cummings had been hiding under the bed and had heard every word the two had spoken. "Surprise!" she said, coyly. "Did I interrupt something, boys?...Or should I say...'girls'?" "You fucking bitch!" Harm yelled at her. "How did you get in here and why the fuck were you hiding?" "I just came by to give Tom a present for his victory, but apparently, you took care of that for me, Harm. I didn't know that the two big muscular jock heroes had their own way of celebrating, but I should have known. Tell me, Harm, how does it feel to be rejected? Did it hurt when you found out Tom wasn't in love with you?" "I'll kill you, you cunt!" Harm said, yanking her arm to make her stand up. "Ow! That hurt!" she said. "What should we do, Tom?" Harm asked. "We could forget the whole thing if you wanted to make it a threesome." Sandy said. "Fuck that!" Harm said, "The only part of my body that's going into your mouth is my fist." "Harm, calm down!" Tom said. "The three of us have to talk. We've got a serious situation here that we have to solve." "Well, we're not going to solve it the way she suggested!" Harm yelled. "Goddammit, bitch, you're about an inch short from my beating you to a pulp!" "I would love to beat your three and a half hard inches to a pulp!" Sandy replied, in jest. Harm could take it no longer. He slapped Sandy across her face with his open hand, hard enough for her to hit the floor. Tom took a large leap and stood between them to keep Harm from continuing his physical attack on her. When she fell, her head hit the radiator and knocked her unconscious. Tom knelt to feel her pulse in her neck and pulled one of her eyelids back. "She's out like a light." Tom said. "Think we should take her to the hospital?" "Hell, no. Let the bitch lie there and hemorrhage to death!" "Harm, we can't do that!" Tom said. "Why not? By the time she spreads her gossip about us all over the campus, WE might as well be dead." "Well, I'm not going to be a part of a murder!" Tom exclaimed. "Shit, she ain't gonna die. She just hit her head. She can't damage her brain 'cause she ain't got one! Let me get dressed and you help me take her to my car and I'll take her back to her dorm and dump her there. One of her sorority sisters or someone'll see her and put her to bed. She'll be all right in the morning except for a huge headache." Harm said. "Are you sure?" "Trust me. You and I have to figure out how to defend ourselves if she decides to reveal what she heard while she was under the bed. First of all, it's our word against hers...that's two against one and I doubt if anyone would believe her. Everyone knows she carves notches every time she sucks a new dick. If word got out that she'd failed to score with you, it would crush her reputation, not to mention what it would do to her ego." "All I know is she sure got us in a mess." Tom said. "Don't worry, I told you I'd take care of it. Nothing'll happen. You won't even be involved. After all, I'm the one who smacked her. You didn't do anything except be the innocent victim of a groupie intrusion." "OK, but are you sure she doesn't need medical attention?" "Positive. I've been knocked out worse during football practice. She'll come around. With luck, she might not remember being here." Tom wasn't convinced, but he had no alternative than to go along with Harm's plan. He slipped on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt while Harm got fully dressed. They peeked out the door until they thought it was time for Larry, the dorm monitor, to go on his break. He usually went for coffee and a pee every morning about 3:30 AM. This would be the best time to carry Sandy out the door and lay her in the back seat of Harm's car. At 3:35AM, all went according to plan and Tom and Harm carried her out the door unnoticed by anyone. "You sure you can manage getting her out of your car by yourself?" Tom asked. "Piece of cake. I may drop her on her head a couple more times for good measure, but this cunt is so fuckin' dumb, it wouldn't do her any more harm." Once Sandy was placed in the car, Harm drove off, letting Tom sneak back to his room. Tom had no idea how angry Harm actually was. Harm wished he had really killed her. He was tired of girls who preyed on guys with open mouths and twats, racking up points as if they were playing billiards. He suddenly wished he had placed Sandy in the front passenger seat. That way, he could open the door and push her out at 60 MPH. But there was no way he could do that now with her sprawled in the back. One thing Harm did noticed was the smell of alcohol on Sandy's breath. She had drunk an awful lot of booze at the party and if it appeared she had fallen on the sidewalk or slipped on the concrete steps leading into her dorm. it could look like an accident... provided no one saw him and he had the chance to stage it and get away with the devious plot. Hell, it was 4:00AM, who would be up at that hour to see him? He just might be able to pull it off with no one noticing. It was worth a shot, anyway. A block from Sandy's dorm, Harm turned off his headlights and slowly coasted to rest next to a large tree in the swale near the curb. There was a morning fog masking most of the street and sidewalk. Visibility was less than thirty feet. This was also to Harm's advantage. He quietly opened his door, not shutting it to cause any unneeded sound and did the same with the back door of his car. He estimated Sandy to weigh about 110 lbs. This was nothing for a varsity center to lift. He pulled on her arms and slid her body off the back seat onto the ground. She moaned a bit as he tugged on her. At least she wasn't dead. Dammit! It would solve things better if she was. He managed to get her into a sitting position while he got beneath the bulk of her torso and heaved her body over his right shoulder. Hell, she was dead-weight, but not as heavy as he thought. Harm looked both ways, as far into the fog as he could see. All was quiet. Another fortunate thing for him was that the light over the dorm entrance was not lit, so the landing up the four steps where Harm carried her was almost in total darkness. He bent over enough for her feet to touch the pavement, steadying her into a standing position. Then, against his better judgment, he released his hold on her and she fell backward down the four concrete stairs, hitting her head a number of times before landing on the main sidewalk. Harm had only one more thing to do...run like hell to his car and get away as fast and quietly as he could. As he turned the next corner in his car, he marveled at the fact he wasn't trembling or even feeling any kind of remorse. He had just committed an "accidental" murder and had no qualms about what he had just done. Did he hate Sandy that much or was this how much he loved Tom? Whatever he had done was not for himself for he knew that no one would have believed Sandy no matter whom she told that he and Tom were having sex. However, Tom was the pretty one. There would be a certain percentage of the student body who'd like to believe things like that about him, because few people knew anything about his personal life as he had only been a student for one week and a hero for one night. Harm made it back to the dorm and didn't bother going back to see Tom. Let Tom sleep and forget what had happened. That's what Harm planned to do after he had showered and jerked off a couple of times. Tom had gotten to sleep around 5:00AM and slept right through Saturday, not waking until sometime late in the afternoon. It seemed strange that he had slept so soundly for such a long period. He wondered if Harm had come by to see him and he hadn't heard Harm's knock. He left his room around six to get something to eat. The dorm was practically empty since it was everyone's dinner hour. Instead of going to the cafeteria, Tom walked north of the campus toward the highway to go to Shoney's. He wasn't hungry for breakfast food, he wanted two Big Boy's, some fries, and a vanilla shake. A new kid waited on him. His name was Ray...great body, blonde hair, and Brad Pitt blue eyes. Tom was smitten by Ray's looks on first glance. Ray had communicated the same attraction toward Tom. Ray made several unnecessary trips to Tom's table with water, napkins, ketchup, a clean fork, and an order for Shoney's hot fudge cake with ice cream. Their unspoken dialogue was formulating a date for later that night. They both recognized the "gay" look in one another's eyes. All it took to confirm the deal was for Tom to ask what time Ray got off from work. Thirty minutes? Was that all? Tom would wait. It was worth it for this hunk! It just so happened that Ray had a car and lived by himself in a small apartment and if things worked out right, Tom would be spending the entire weekend at Ray's. As Tom got into Ray's car to leave, he wasn't aware of Harm's car parked across the street. Harm had scrunched down in the seat so no one could see or notice him. However Harm had noticed Tom leaving with this raving beautiful blonde guy to some unknown destination. Harm gave them a block head start before he started his engine to follow them. Jealousy was building into a rage the farther Harm drove. Was Tom that easy a lay? To meet some waiter and go to bed with him so quickly? Ray called in sick at Shoney's on Sunday after Tom had called the dorm, saying he was staying with friends and wouldn't return until late Sunday evening. The two of them had hit it off quite well, becoming close friends and great bed partners. The had sex every conceivable way and each had lost count on the number of times they had reached climaxes. Little did Tom know that Harm had been parked all night a half block down the street from Ray's apartment. He had masturbated six or eight times while sitting behind the steering wheel, imagining what Tom and Ray must've been doing inside. The masturbation had curtailed some of Harm's rage and anxiety, but every hour Tom spent inside Ray's apartment made Harm more and more jealous. Yep, there was no doubt in his mind. He had totally and completely fallen in love with his quarterback and if Tom wouldn't or couldn't reciprocate the feeling, Harm didn't know what to do. He made his mind up about one thing, Tom wouldn't spend any more weekends with the Shoney's waiter, not if he had anything to do with it! He'd stop that romance before it started. Finally, after almost twenty-six hours of non-stop sex, Tom emerged from Ray's apartment. Ray was going to drive him back to his dorm. Again, Harm started his car and followed them from a distance. Harm watched as Tom got out of Ray's car in front of the dorm. Tom leaned over and gave Ray a kiss...just a peck, but nonetheless, it was a kiss...something Tom wouldn't afford himself to give Harm. Harm was furious. Tom went inside the dorm as Ray drove off. Harm continued to follow Ray. Ray didn't head toward his apartment, he apparently wanted to go to the grocery store to restock for the next week. At the first traffic light, Ray stopped and Harm pulled up right behind him, almost touching bumper to bumper. As the light turned green, before Ray could put his foot on the accelerator, Harm slammed his foot on his gas pedal and pushed Ray's car with a vengeance. Ray tried to see in his rear view mirror who was forcing his car uncontrollably to speed down the street. He tried to brake his car, but the thrust of Harm's car was too powerful for Ray to come to a stop. He looked at the speedometer and it was reading 65 mph which made steering next to impossible. Ray was scared for his life. Who was this maniac and why was he doing this? Ray did the best he could to stay in the middle of the road until he saw a car approaching from the opposite direction. Ray sensed he would hit the car head-on and pulled his steering wheel a bit to the right to avoid the inevitable collision. A little to the right was all it took to plunge the front of his car into a tall, wide oak tree. A few seconds before his car hit the tree, Harm slammed on his brakes so that he would avoid rear-ending Ray's car and avoid the impact. Ray's car hit the tree with such a force that the tree pushed Ray's motor into the front seat, crushing Ray's body and causing the steering wheel to break every bone in Ray's rib cage. He died instantly. Harm swerved his car before the crash and sped down the road, not even looking back to see what damage he'd done. "That's one guy that won't be spending time with Tom anymore," Harm said to himself as he turned at the next two corners and headed back toward the dorm to see Tom. Tom learned of Ray's wreck the next morning, shortly after he found out that Sandy Cummings was in a coma for six hours at the hospital before dying, from falling down the stairs backwards in front of the girls dorm. Tom immediately wondered if Harm had had anything to do with Sandy's fall, but he didn't suspect Harm was the cause of Ray's accident either, although it did seem more than a coincidence that two people he had been involved with encountered a tragedy within a few hours of each other. Tom didn't mention Ray's name to anyone for fear he might be a suspect in the incident. After all, he was probably the last person to see either of them alive. <><><><><><><><><><><> On hearing of Sandy's death, Dean Connelly issued an edict to all the fraternities and sororities about the usual danger and evil of excessive drinking...never travel alone if you've been drinking...don't drive...blah, blah, blah...the same old rhetoric when accidents occurred while 'under the influence'. He really didn't know Sandy but he made a big hoopla out of it to cover his ass. He doubted that any girl, or guy for that matter, was totally sober after the Friday night victory. Accidents happen and that was that! Nothing more was made of it...no investigation or coroner's inquest. The only person that was alarmed was Tom. He didn't know what had happened after he and Harm had put Sandy in Harm's back seat. Tom maintained an attitude of total innocence, but at the same time, he was dying to talk to Harm privately to find out what happened. The biggest mystery of all was where WAS Harm? No one had seen him in the dorm all day Sunday and he was absent from his classes on Monday. Tom thought that Harm would surely be at Monday afternoon's practice, but when he failed to show up or even call him, Tom became very concerned. Sandy was dead, Ray was dead, and now, Harm was missing. Jerry Brickell, the back-up center, took Harm's place at practice. The team members were still pumped up by the victory...all but Tom. Tom was having an off day. He couldn't seem to complete a pass. He was sacked several times just standing in the pocket without trying to throw the ball. His mind was preoccupied on Harm and he was battling with himself mentally whether to tell Jim about his and Harm's sexual tryst and their episode involving Sandy. Jim could see that the practice was a disaster, so he gave them a little pep talk with a warning about resting on their laurels and not to believe that winning was going to be that easy from now on. Jim rushed them off to the showers in order to have a private chat with Tom. He called Tom into his office and asked him to shut the door. "OK, What gives?" Jim asked Tom, pointedly. "Nothing. What do you mean?" Tom asked. "Do you have a hangover or have you been doing drugs?" "God, no!" Tom replied. "Then why were you fucking up so bad on the field? Does it have something to do with Harm's absence? Do you know where he is?" "Coach, I haven't seen him since we got back to the dorm after the party Friday night." Tom said, avoiding telling the whole truth. "You two have been getting it on, haven't you?" "What's that supposed to mean?" "Shit, Tom. I'm not blind, I don't live in a cave on the side of a mountain. You two have been having sex! Don't deny it! You're doing your best to keep it a secret but Harm doesn't have sociopathic skills. It's written all over his face every time he looked at you last week." "Aw, we might've fooled around a little. You know, like all the guys did in the shower when you saw us, but that's about all." Tom said, not looking at Jim. "You mean there were more than two of you?" "No, just Harm and me." "Did it get serious?" Jim asked. "Not on my part." "What about Harm? Are you saying he got serious about you, but you didn't return the favor?" "Something like that!" "That's what I figured. Maybe you gave him the shaft and he's off somewhere brooding. Tom, you've got to be more careful with other people's feelings." "Are you including yourself when you mention 'other people's feelings'?" "We're not discussing me or my feelings, I'm trying to find out what went on between you and Harm." "OK. We had sex! A lot of it! Are you satisfied?" "The question is...were YOU satisfied?" "As far as it went." "But Harm wanted to go further, huh?" "Maybe." "Do you think he fell in love with you and you mistook it for something else?" "It's possible." "Can you talk in sentences and not in short phrases?" "What do you want me to say? You want to hear blow by blow details how we sucked each other and how if felt when we fucked each other?" "I'm not looking for graphic descriptions. Tell me what you talked about the last time you saw him. That'll do for starters." Tom sat silently looking down at the floor for a few minutes before Jim noticed a tear coming out of Tom's right eye. "Coach, I've got to talk to someone. What I have to say is not pleasant and it's hard for me to find the words." "I hope after the things we did together in bed, you could trust me enough to tell me anything." "You're the one person I can talk to, but..." Tom stopped. "But, what?" "Coach, I think Harm killed Sandy Cummings!" Tom blurted out. "Jesus Christ, Tom! Do you know what you're saying!?" "I know what I'm saying but I don't want to believe it." Tom said, breaking into a sob. Jim knew how troubled Tom was and he went to Tom and put his arms around him. It seemed so natural. That same wonderful thrill that Jim had experienced holding him naked in bed returned to Jim and he couldn't hold Tom tight enough. "Come on, little guy, start at the beginning and tell me everything," Jim said, not wanting to interrupt their embrace. Tom didn't look at Jim. He stayed in Jim's arms with his face almost buried in Jim's shoulder while he related everything that had happened after the game Friday night. He left out no details, which helped confirm Jim's suspicion of Harm's loving Tom. Jim was relieved that Tom was no more involved than it appeared. But then Tom continued with his narrative by telling Jim about the weekend with Ray and Ray's ensuing auto accident. That's when Jim really became alarmed. Had Harm caused two deaths in the jealous rage of a spurned lover? Jesus Christ!, what would Harm do if he knew about Tom's and Jim's interlude? What if he were to walk in and catch the two of them embracing just now? Would he make the same attempt on Jim's life? Would he try to hurt Tom? There was no proof of Harm's guilt, only narrowed speculation, but there was a cause for definite concern. Jim realized the dilemma they were all in. If Dean Connelly, the police, or anybody knew of Tom and Harm's affair, Tom's reputation would be ruined. Also, he could be arrested as an accessory to Sandy's death. Jim couldn't let his feelings for Tom be known for fear of losing his job and creating a school scandal. The best thing to do would be to find Harm before he hurt himself or anyone else. Jim also couldn't decide if Tom would be safer staying at his house instead of the dorm or if it would raise more suspicion as to why the quarterback had moved in with the coach and his wife. After much deliberation, Jim decided the best plan would be to keep Tom's revelation to him a secret for a couple of days and see if Harm showed up at school, in the dorm, or at practice. Maybe Harm was totally innocent of wrong-doing and played no part in Ray's accident. Maybe Sandy had revived in the car and had fallen down the stairs accidentally and Harm felt trapped and was afraid he would be implicated in her death. What ever the answer was, depended on what Harm had to say. That is, unless he was guilty and had planned revenge on a third victim. Jim told Tom to go to his house and tell Nina that Jim had invited him for dinner and to stay over, but NOT to tell her anything about what had happened. Jim had a lot of thinking to do and decisions that he shouldn't make on his own. He realized he had someone he needed to confide in. Jim picked up the phone and pushed "*7". "Hello?" "Cliff?" "Jim?" "Yeah. I need to talk with you." "Your voice sounds so serious, Jim," Cliff said, "Is something wrong?" "Yeah, and then some." "Where do you want to meet?" "How about your study at St. Genesius?" "Better still, you know where Roger and I live. Meet me there." "Fine...see you in a few..." Jim replaced the receiver and made a dash to his car and headed toward the Cole Estate. An hour later he had spilled everything he knew, or at least, everything Tom had related to him, to Cliff. About halfway through Jim's monologue, Cliff asked Jim if he could include Roger in the conversation to which Jim agreed. "My God, Jim," Cliff exclaimed, "you've got to call the police!" "I know it, Cliff, but I don't have all the facts and I'm afraid anything that I told the police would only incriminate Tom." "Jim's right, Cliff," Roger said. "What we're dealing with here is speculation not facts. As Jim said, Harm might be totally innocent of wrong doing and once you tear a tiny hole in a beehive, everything gets stirred up and dangerous for everybody and there's no way to turn back and patch everything up. Jim's, Tom's, and even Harm's future and reputation are at risk and until we know everything there IS to know from Harm himself, we could be ruining several lives without just cause." "Yes, but if the story comes out in the worst way, Roger, Jim might be indicted for concealment of facts pertaining to a homicide or obstruction of justice!" Cliff replied. "But what if Harm DIDN'T do it? Jim just told us that Tom has a police record of very minor offences, but if it comes out publicly that he's been having a sexual relationship with ANY man, you know the damage that can do to him...not to mention Jim's one-night involvement with Tom. You know the paparazzi, once they print a story, they wouldn't take back one word if I gave them all of MY money. Once a lie has been printed, they'll stick by it at all costs." "What's your suggestion, then?" "Let me call in my cavalry of private detectives and find Harm before the police do. Let him sit down with the three of us...even include Tom if you like, and the three or four of us can see through Harm's lies if he's telling any." "Where's Tom?" Cliff asked Jim. "I told him to go to my house but NOT to tell Nina anything about the events." "You're kinda pushing the envelope a bit, aren't you, Jim? I mean, you and I both know that Nina is no dummy. It she sees Tom acting the least bit suspicious, then she have her own suspicions. You should be there right now, assessing the situation between the two of them," Cliff replied. "Then, what, Cliff?" "Do you think that Tom is safe? Do you think Harm will come after him?" "How the hell should I know? I'm not even sure that Harm is guilty of anything malicious. Wherever he is, he's probably more scared than thinking of how to cope with Tom." "You can't be sure." "I know." "Let me give you some advice, Jim," Roger said. "Please!" "Take Tom back to the dorm. Don't let him spend the night at your house! If he becomes a suspect then the police or anyone seeing the two of you together might make it look bad for either or both of you." "But what if he comes after Tom?" "Tell Tom to make up some kind of excuse for spending the night with one of the other guys. Then get Phil, Howie, Wylie, Randy, Bobby, and as many other teammates Tom can find and surround himself with all of them like a human fortress. Tom will be safe with them. There's no way that Harm could take all of them on at one time." "That's a great idea, Roger." "Keep checking on Harm tonight and give him until noon tomorrow, also let my private scouts see what they can do. Then tomorrow, if we still don't know the real truth and if Harm hasn't been found, I'll have Walter, my attorney to meet with you and Tom, then Cliff and I will join the three of you and we'll all go to the police together and tell them what we DO know for sure...not what we speculate.." "All right, Roger." Jim said, giving in. "Why did this have to happen...and NOW?" Cliff spoke up. "Jim, I know how upset you are. You're their coach! They love you, but Roger and I are just as disturbed about this as you. If you hear ANYTHING, call us day or night and one of us or both will meet you no matter when or where." "You two are always there for us, aren't you...no matter what?" "No matter what," Cliff reassured. "Now go home, get some rest, clear your head, and the two of us will come up with something." "Cliff, Roger, thanks!" "Just remember," Cliff added, "Nina needs you. Tom needs you. The whole team needs you. And right now, wherever he is, Harm needs you, too." "You know sometimes I amazed at how the both of you can take on everyone else's problems and still find time to retain the loving relationship the two of you exude to the rest of us." "I used to get angry with God, Jim," Cliff said, "Quite often I felt that He had created Roger and me handicapped...as if we had been born half a person since we depended on the other for everything. Then when Roger moved here and we saw how our two halves joined together could accomplish anything we tried, we both saw God's plan for making us one unified person. That's the way it's been with us ever since." "Thanks, sweetheart, that was nice..." Roger said. "God, how I wish..." "Don't say it, Jim. Be grateful that so many people love you and look up to you." "I looked at you two together at the Pub after the game and I became so goddamned envious." "I'd rather you saw us as something to hope for, whether it's with Nina or Tom. You have it all, right before your eyes, it's just up to you to decide what you really want." "Can it be that simple?" "You tell me," Cliff replied. "Cliff, I know you're my priest and Roger's almost like being my priest, but can I tell you that you are one of the best friends I have in this world?" "You can tell us, but only if you realize that we feel the same way about you." "Thank you...thank you both!" "Now, scoot!...And don't forget to call me!" Roger said. Jim left the church, still a bit discouraged, but with a newly found hope. Once Jim had gone, Cliff looked at Roger and said, "Do you think things will work out right for him?" "My love, when you enter into anyone's life...things ALWAYS seem to work out." "Only because you're here to guide me." "Cliff, I've never guided you. You don't need a guide, we're like a two-man defense, we just plow through the next line of trouble, knowing that as long as we stick together, we'll be victorious!" "Let me go see what Jay is up to in the kitchen while you go put some show tunes on the CD player." "Deal!" Cliff went into the kitchen and thirty seconds later, the entire Cole Estate was rumbling with the fanfare of the "Gypsy" overture..."Everything's Coming Up Roses". Cliff laughed out loud. <><><><><><> (To be continued in "Briarwood"--BOOK SIX--chapter-fifty-nine.)