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5

 

April was here. I almost thought about counting days instead of weeks, but there was still a lot to do.

 

April 1

We practiced at Mike's school today. I wanted to go see him in his room. It killed me to know he was right there, and we couldn't see each other. That was tough.

I have to admit my eyes teared up in the car.

 

Our game was an hour and a half out of town on Saturday. We had to be ready to get on the bus at 4:30 that day. We had another practice Monday. I loved basketball, but the schedule was killing me on my classes. I had no idea how I fit Mike in those three weeks. We connected so fast. It was all intense, but also so caring. It just felt right, but it went by in a blur. It's no wonder he thought we rushed it. But stepping back, we still seem good. A little lonely, but good.

During practice Thursday afternoon, Lance came up to me on one of the breaks.

"Hey," he said softly. "Just FYI, I heard Rich and Avery talking earlier today. They were talking about you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It seemed very nice at first, then they lowered their voices. All I could hear was your name and the word `gay,'" he whispered to me.

"Great," I said solemnly.

"Just wanted you to know."

"Thanks."

Would anything become of that? I don't want one other weird thing on my plate. Fuck. At least we only had two weeks left. Unless we made playoffs.

 

—

 

Friday was brutal. I scored horribly on my morning quiz; I thought I was better prepared. I had no time for a good lunch and inhaled a fast-food burrito that was completely mediocre. I got the impression others in my Psychology class were further along on their research papers than I was on mine. I was just discouraged. I tried to shake it off to get in a better mindset for practice. I was belching the burrito all afternoon. I would have done anything for a mint.

I would have attempted to study during part of the drive on Saturday, but it was the weekend. Why bother? I sat with Avery during the drive. I let him do most of the talking. I was more in the mood to listen rather than talk. Avery didn't usually spend a lot of time with me during practice. It was good to talk with him. Lance said he and Rich had been talking about me the day before, but I didn't get the impression that anything was wrong.

When the discussion turned toward graduation, I told him I couldn't wait. When asked why, I fumbled for a good answer. Of course, the real answer was so that Mike and I could spend time together again, but I didn't want to say that. I just rambled on about being finished — no more tests, no papers — it would all be behind us.

"Will you move back home? Or do you plan to be on your own?" Avery asked me.

"You know, I haven't really made any type of commitment." I pondered it. "I would guess I'll be back home for a short while. Who wants to live with their parents though? And you?"

"I want to move. I've sent some resumes to some places in Phoenix. I just feel like I want to start fresh. Plus, I'm a Suns fan."

"Wow, that's pretty far. But good luck though. If you land something, that will be exciting," I said.

"It can't get here fast enough."

"I hear ya," I said, staring out the window.

But what was I going to do? How did I have no plan? It was only weeks way. I've focused so hard on doing well in college that I had hardly looked past it.

We got fed a simple dinner and then it was time to warm up. If we won tonight, we had a solid shot at the playoffs.

The game was a nail biter. We had the lead, then they did. It went back and forth a lot. I wasn't as on point as I was last week. I still played well but was by no means the star tonight. The crowd got a good fight, but we slipped a couple times in the last minutes and they took a lead by six points. We lost.

The mood in the locker room was a bit glum. We had a slim chance for playoffs next week if the closest competition loses and we pull it out. Lots of pressure.

I was pretty distracted in the shower. I didn't even think about guys at all, even though they were all undressed around me. I pulled my briefs up over my crotch near the lockers. I reached down for my shirt. Rich walked up to me. He was completely naked and dripping wet from the shower.

"So, Trent. Do you want this?" he said, shaking his cock at me.

"Wha — ?" I was stunned. "Rich what are you talking about?"

"Rich!" Avery called out.

"He wants it." Rich grabbed his dick and moved it toward my face. "Right, fag? You love dick."

"Get the hell away from me," I said.

Lance and Avery came over and pulled Rich back.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Lance barked at Rich.

"You weren't quite the stud tonight on the court, were you?" Rich yelled back at me.

"Hey, he played well. He scored more than you still," Avery rebuked him.

"Fag!" Rich said as he moved away.

The coach had heard the shouting and stepped in. Everyone shut up. The tension was awkward. Everyone got dressed in silence. We packed our bags and loaded on the bus. I moved toward the back. Avery came back to sit with me. Rich was about five rows up. He sat alone.

It was quieter on the drive back. Some conversation eventually started up.

"Are you okay?" Avery asked.

"I guess." I didn't know what to say. "I didn't expect this from my teammates."

"Hey, it's only Rich. No one else is going to trouble you."

"I suppose everyone knows. They do now, anyway."

"So? It's still you. You're still Trent," Avery said. "We're your friends."

"Thanks. It's nice for you to say that."

"Hey, don't let an asshole get to you," he said.

Avery asked for my cell phone. He entered his cell into my contacts.

"If you ever need ... just anyone ... to talk to. Call me. All your friends are here for you."

"Thanks," I said emotionless.

We didn't say much the rest of the drive.

 

April 4

Today sucked. It was my first "friend" that turned on me for being gay. I guess it was too good to last. I don't particularly like myself right now. And I have no idea why. Which sucks. I didn't do anything. Hateful people suck.

 

I returned a diligent focus to my studies on Sunday. I made great strides on my paper, which was good. Other classes were going to ramp up, so knocking a lot of that task out of the way was great.

The work helped get my mind off the night before. Rich and I had always gotten along fine. We weren't like close friends, but there was never anything between us. I couldn't believe he put me down like that.

That evening I texted Mike.

"Something happened last night. Can I call?"

He didn't reply. Damn. I waited for about 15 minutes. No response. I decided to suck it up and go for a run.

All alone with my thoughts during the jog, my mind raced all over the place. I wondered if this was what Mike went through before the panic attack. I cleared my thoughts and tried to just take in my surroundings — the sky, trees, landscaping, historic buildings. That was my focus.

Forty minutes later I got back to the apartment. That did wonders. I felt I had worked off a lot of tension.

I hadn't showered all day, so this was a good time to do so. Both roommates were out so I had the apartment to myself. I started the shower running and then took off my clothes. I glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror. A bit sweaty, but I still felt good about my looks.

My luck with people walking in was lousy, so I made sure the door was shut. Then I climbed in.

The hot water pouring down my back was heaven. Shampoo and suds helped rinse away every bit of sweat and grime. I felt clean but didn't feel like getting out of the shower. My hands worked their way to my crotch as I let the hot spray continue to pour over my shoulders. I pulled on my cock a bit. That felt nice. I gripped it in my right hand and let my left one massage my chest. I imagined Mike's hairy chest. I stroked my package some more and soon I was fully hard.

My cock felt on fire in the hot downpour. It looked flaming red. I pulled on it harder and harder. As I stared at my cock, I pictured Mike's wonderful dick in my mind. My erection felt harder, stronger, longer. I stroked it with a tighter grip.

I had no intention of masturbating in the shower — at least to completion — but the stroking felt really good. I lathered up my rod and balls and allowed my crotch to become more slippery. My grip slid up and down my long erection. Oh yeah. That felt good. But I didn't need to come. This was all I needed.

And yet I didn't stop. I serviced my cock like a machine. I told myself that the shower wasn't the place to come, but I still yanked harder. I moaned a little bit in the spray. I created more lather to make my rod slippery again. I closed my eyes and pictured my stiff organ sliding into Mike's ass. Oh yeah. My breathing was heavy now. I pictured thrusting my hips forcing my hard-on in and out of his waiting hole.

"Ooooooohhh. Yeaaaaaahhhhhh." My moaning was light, but I needed to express it.

I imagined Mike saying all kinds of things to me as I pounded his ass. Images of my crotch slamming into his butt shoving my stiff cock far into him increased my pleasure. I moaned louder, longing to drive my shaft as deep as I could send it inside him. It was bringing me close to orgasm. I got just a bit more shower gel and lathered my mast up again for the final strokes. I could hear Mike begging me to never stop fucking him. I pulled and pulled on my steel cannon, now breathing so heavily it was louder than the shower spray. My fantasy was dramatically increasing the sensations of masturbation. My cock throbbed as it longed to explode. Thoughts of me ramming Mike from behind finally drove me to the edge.

"I'm coming, Mike," I whispered.

I watched the cum shoot from my cock. It shot several feet to the back of the tub. Suds continued to form as I slid my fist up and down my pole. Each spurt of cum came with an audible groan of ecstasy. I watched it all fall to the white porcelain. I had stopped coming, but I continued to pull on my dick. Then I exhaled a huge breath and allowed my breathing to slowly return to normal. I grabbed the shower head to make sure all the cum would rinse down the drain.

The apartment door slammed.

Well, at least my timing was better this time around.

Paul knocked on the door. I turned off the water.

"Trent, is that you?"

"Uh. Yeah?"

"I gotta pee like crazy. I've been holding for a half hour to get here! Can I come in?"

"Um. Sure."

The door opened.

"First, throw me the towel on the sink."

Paul grabbed the towel and threw it over the shower curtain. I began drying off while I heard him unzip his pants. His piss stream seemed powerful. It was evident that he had desperately been needing to go. I continued to dry. He could probably tell by the movements seen through the translucent curtain. I was finished drying, but he was still peeing. I looked at my crotch. I wasn't hard anymore, but my dick still looked longer than normal. He flushed.

After Rich last night, I didn't want the whole gay thing to be an issue. I wrapped the towel around my waist to shield my privates. I pulled the curtain open.

I walked behind Paul over to the sinks. He was telling me what he had been doing that night. I'm glad me being undressed around him wasn't freaking him out. I deviously felt playful. I pulled the towel off and laid it on the counter, reaching for my hairbrush. My long dick hung for Paul to see.

He paused in the middle of his story.

"Damn, Trent. Are all gay men hung like that?"

"You've seen me undressed before," I said.

"No. No, I haven't. Not completely."

"Oh, I'm sorry." I grabbed the towel and bunched it up in front of my crotch. I walked into the bedroom.

"Hey man. I didn't offend you somehow, did I?" Paul asked.

"No. Of course not. I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Please. We've been roommates for almost two semesters. I ... I guess I haven't talked to a lot of gay guys before. I just don't want to say the wrong thing."

"Thanks, Paul," I said. "You didn't. That would have been one of my teammates last night. He really berated me after the game."

"You're kidding! Because you're gay?"

"Yeah."

"Trent, I'm sorry. Not every guy on campus thinks that way. Your true friends will always be your friends."

"Thanks," I said, pulling some briefs up my legs.

"And ... I'm jealous. Damn!"

I gave him a smirk, which turned more into a smile.

 

—

 

A couple of hours later, I was about to turn in for the night. My phone rang. It was Mike. I answered.

"Are you okay!!?? What happened?" Mike asked frantically.

"Hold on. Yeah. I'm okay."

I went through last night's ordeal as best as I could remember. A full day had passed so the wound was not quite as fresh, but it was still painful. I wanted Mike to know.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he said to me.

"I know. I wasn't sure if I should tell you."

"Why?"

"I ... I don't know. I didn't want you to think I would need to run to you every time something bad happens."

Mike was silent a moment.

"Trent, I'm sorry. Just because I think we need to be on hold temporarily doesn't mean I've stopped caring. If you need me, call me. If you want to talk, I'm here. I am so sorry I was out tonight without my phone. That rarely happens. I feel bad I wasn't here earlier."

"Thanks, I'm okay," I said. "It just threw me last night. I guess I should expect that from time to time, huh?"

"The world is getting better, but ... yeah. You might run into that every now and then. I am sorry, babe."

"I'm a big boy. I can move on."

Gah! Did I just call myself a boy? I don't want Mike thinking of me as some kid.

"I'm glad you told me. I love you," he said.

"Love you too. Good night, hon'."

I thought about Mike's words: "I'm here." That sounded nice, but ... here was actually "there." The two of us seemed "okay" apart, but ... he was missing. I missed being with him. We needed to make love. I needed sex. It was odd that it suddenly seemed important to me now and didn't months ago. Lance and Jay had propositioned me. I could find sex here, but that wouldn't be right. I'm being faithful to Mike.

As long as I could hold on.