Date: Mon, 20 Feb 2006 14:54:19 -0800 From: Ryan Miller Subject: Bonding Energy: Opportunity Cost Ch. 6 Consider this the second edition of my story. I looked back at my early works and saw how much I have improved as a writer and thought it only behooved me to polish up what I had written. So, I went through and edited the story stylistically and structurally. The story is still the same, just shinier. Disclaimer: This is a homoerotic story I have written, so if you aren't allowed legally, morally or ethically to read it, then don't. And don't post this anywhere else without my expressed permission. Feedback is very much encouraged, so hit me up at bluedragon314@gmail.com Ch. 6 We never did go clubbing that night. We waited outside the dancer's door for about half an hour (me and Aaron huddling around Brian for warmth) but no one came back out. Instead of clubbing, we went to this theater downtown that shows movies that have been out for a while and we saw Revenge of the Sith. It was about 4 a.m. when we got back home. I was really tired and had bad indigestion from the second-rate hotdog I'd eaten at the theater. I went up to my bedroom in a trance and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. If it had been up to me, I would have stayed in bed at least until noon. Instead, it was up to Peter. "Kyle, phone's for you," said James. I looked at my clock and it was 10 a.m. I didn't feel at all like getting up at all, so I tried to feign sleep. But James couldn't be fooled, at least not by me. In one swift motion, he tore the covers off of my aching body and I recoiled from the world I was not ready to greet. I felt terrible, having only had 6 hours of restless sleep. "Leave me alone," I said. "I had a rough night." "You spent the night watching Star Wars with Brian and Aaron," he said. "Sure sounds like you had it rough." "Just take a message," I said. "Come on, it's Peter," he said. "What the hell does he want?" I asked. "I don't know, you ask him," said James as he set the cordless on top of my dresser. As he walked out of the room, I cursed him for making me get up. I threw myself out of bed, despite my aching head, and picked up the phone. "You'd better have a good excuse for getting me out of bed like that," I said to Peter. "You were still in bed?" he asked. "Yeah, Brian and Aaron tried to take me clubbing last night and I got home pretty late," I said. "You went clubbing?" said Peter in exaggerated horror. "Not really," I said. "We couldn't get in so we watched a movie instead." I pinched the phone between my shoulder and my chin and bounced around as I tried to put some pants on. "I bet you had fun anyway," said Peter. "So, I was just wondering: do you want to come over to my house today and work on the project for Moony?" "Peter, I'm not your partner," I said. "I know, smartass," he said. "I wanted to know if you and your partner wanted to work with me and my partner." I buttoned my pants and headed downstairs. "I don't think William would be up for that," I said. "Oh, that's right," said Peter. "He is your partner. Damn. Well, can you come over without him?" "Hell no!" I said. "There's no way I am doing any work without him." Downstairs, James was doing tai-chi in the living room. I could only assume that Brian and Aaron were still in bed. I went into the kitchen and sat at the table. "Why not?" asked Peter. "Because I'm not doing another project where I do all the work so slackers can share the credit," I said. "Then just call him and make sure he's not slacking," he said. "I don't even have his phone number," I said. "And I don't really want to go, anyway." "Why not?" he asked. He was starting to sound desperate. "Because," I said, "I was looking forward to having nothing to do today. Besides, what do you need me for?" "Look, will you just come over?" he asked. "What for?" I asked. "I don't see what the big deal is." "I'd tell you," he said. "But I can't talk about it in present company." "Why not?" I asked. "I just told you, I can't talk about it," he said. "But if you come over, I can tell you all about it." "Fine, I'll have James drop me off in about an hour," I said. "No, that's too soon. Could you come around 1:00?" he asked. "Ok," I said. "Cool," he said. "And be sure to call Willy and make sure he is holding up his end of the project." "Will do," I said, and hung up. 'That was retarded,' I thought. 'Why wouldn't he tell me what was up? Peter's not one to keep secrets.' I let my head fall on the table and thought about the leisurely day I wasn't going to have. I still felt groggy from being woken up against my will and wasn't in the mood to go over to Peter's house (supposedly to study.) He was never much for studying, anyway. I wondered why he hadn't asked Chris, but then remembered that Chris didn't believe in study partners. He was of the firm belief that he studied best on his own. I didn't mind studying with others, as long as they did their own work. And I sure hoped that William would. After last night, I wasn't so sure he was as interested in school as he was in dancing. But learning about his job certainly did answer some questions. Since I didn't have his number, I picked up the phone book, heaved it onto the table and started scouring the pages for "Brewer." Luckily, there were only six Brewers in the area and just one with a zip code in my school district. I dialed the number and hoped for the best. "Hello?" answered a young woman. "Is William there?" I asked. "Yeah, but he's still in bed," she said. I was relieved I had found the right number. And it didn't surprise me that William was still sleeping, now that I knew how he spent his nights. "Wait," she said. "Here's Will now." I heard the phone changes hands and then a groggy William said, "Hello?" "Uh, hey," I said. "This is Kyle Wilson." There was a long pause. I thought he might hang up, then he said, "What do you want?" "I was wondering if you had been working on the project for political science," I said. "Are you serious?" he asked. "You saw me last night. Does it look like I have time for homework?" "Sorry I asked," I said. "Just wanted to make sure my partner was doing his part of the work." "I didn't mean it like that," he said. "I just meant that I haven't had time to work on it since Friday. I was going to start on Tuesday when I got a night off. Did you want to work on it with me?" "Isn't that the point of a group project?" I said. "If Tuesday night is free for you, we can work on it then." "Cool," said William. If I wasn't mistaken, he sounded just a little excited, and I hadn't seen William get excited about anything. "Well, that's all I wanted to talk about," I said. "You can go back to sleeping or whatever." "Hey Kyle, about last night," he said. "I'm sorry if I was short with you. It's just that Club Chico isn't a good place for guys like you to hang out at." "What?" I asked. "Would you be embarrassed if I saw you dancing?" "No! That's not it at all," he said. "Just stay away from there. It's for your own good." He hung up the phone and left me wondering what his problem was, again. One moment he was civil and even sounded like a nice guy, then he got all agitated and hung up on me. 'He must be pretty embarrassed about dancing,' I thought. 'His parents probably don't even know about it.' In the back of my mind, I saw him in the skimpy, black outfit he wore in the alley and couldn't help but think that he was pretty cute. Then I remembered the hoodie and the attitude and asked myself what I was thinking. When 1:00 rolled around, me and James got in his truck and he took me over to Peter's house. Peter was waiting upstairs in his bedroom playing City of Villains on his PC. His room was adorned with posters and paraphernalia of X-Men. He was an X-Men nut and loved to talk about how hot Halle Berry was in the movie. In the corner next to his closet was an old electric guitar that had been employed as a used-sock holder. I dropped my backpack on the floor next to his and asked, "What's so important that you can't tell me over the phone?" "Close the door and I'll tell you," he said. I did as instructed and sat on the bed across from him. "Jenny Piers is my partner, remember?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. "Well, she can't keep her hands off me. Every time we're alone, she's trying to make out with me and get into my pants." "Umm, Peter, I'm no expert on straight relationships, but isn't that a good thing?" "Not with Jenny. She isn't that hot to begin with, and she's dumb as a brick. Now, if she were Halle Berry, it would be a different story. But no, I don't want to get it on with Jenny Piers." "I still don't see what the problem is. You have a pseudo-attractive girl who obviously likes you and wants to get into your pants. Where's the downside?" "Come on, Kyle. I can't undo my fly for just anyone. I have standards." "Standards?" "Yes, standards. I'm Peter Dawkins, thus I get hit on all the time by both girls and guys. I could have gone all the way by now, but I don't want to." "You don't want to have sex." "Of course I do, nimrod! I'm breathing, aren't I? I just don't want to have sex with any of them. It's too easy." "Too easy? You've got to be kidding me." "No, I'm not. Anybody can get jiggy when they have people coming up to them all the time with offers. I want someone that I have to approach, some one that I have to woo. I want a challenge, like in Taming of the Shrew. I bet Kathirina's a wild animal in the sack." "You can't be serious." "Yes, I am. And I wouldn't talk if I were you. You've never even been on a date before." That last comment cut deeper than Peter had expected. I was suddenly reminded of sleepless nights I'd spend wondering why I didn't have someone like Brian or Aaron to whisk me away for a romantic and raunchy evening. I felt cold and forgotten, like a puppy lost in the rain. Peter must have noticed because then he said, "I'm sorry, Kyle. I didn't mean it like that. I'm sure you'll find a boyfriend eventually." "Eventually? When will that be?" I asked. "I don't know," he said. "This is going to sound really queer, but you're a great guy. You're smart and handsome and, I'd better stop. This is already sounding way too gay." "But it helps, Peter," I said. "Thanks." "Any time," he said. "And seriously, if you had boobs, I'd consider dating you. But they'd have to be really nice boobs." "Thanks, but no thanks," I said. "I prefer pecs to jugs any day. And besides, you're not my type." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" asked Peter as he jumped out of his chair and tackled me onto the bed. When I first told Peter I was gay, he asked me if I thought he was hot. I said he was (and he was) and he liked to tease me about it. And he had few social inhibitions, so his teasings were usually intense. "What do you mean, not your type?" he said, grinding his hips into mine. All I could do was laugh. "You know you want me," he said. Just then, the door was opened by Jenny Piers. Peter pulled my wallet out of my pants, took out five dollars and said, "That's what happens when you don't pay me back on time. Oh, hey, Jenny." "Hi, guys," she said. "Am I interrupting something?" "Nope. Just getting the five bucks that Kyle owes me," he said, hopping off the bed and stuffing the money into his pocket. I was impressed by Peter's impromptu cover-up, but made a mental to get my money back before I left. Jenny was just as bad as Peter had said. Downstairs in the dining room, I was looking up the history of Tokugawa Japan while Peter was trying to stave off Jenny's not-so-subtle advances. She never let him sit more than half an inch from her, no matter how much he moved over. And she really was dumb as a brick. She suggested that Peter and her give their presentations to Moony through interpretive dance. I thought she just had a terrible sense of humor until she commented on how hot Peter would be in tights. She must have been pretty dense to think she had to go through such lengths to check out Peter. I usually employed the timeless method of standing outside the door of the weight room and waiting for a bunch of pumped, sweaty jocks to go shuffling by. Not that I would ever ogle one of my best friends, though. And Peter would not let me leave him alone. If he went into the kitchen for something to drink, he invited me to join him. If Jenny got up (taking extra effort to let Peter see up her skirt) Peter insisted on staying with me. And if I had to go to the bathroom, Peter would join me. He was treating Jenny like The Plague and I was his pocket full of posies. And it was working. Jenny, who wasn't astute enough to hide any of her feelings, was getting increasingly frustrated with my intervention and kept whining like a debutante who wasn't getting enough attention. "Petey," she'd say, even thought Peter hated that name. "Petey, I think Kyle should leave. All he does is keep talking about Okinawa, or whatever, and it's giving me a headache." Peter would try to ignore her, but it was hard when she was leaning all over him and tugging at his shirt. Peter would keep moving over and she would lean harder. Finally, she leaned over so much she fell out of her chair in an avalanche of blonde hair and pink tank top, much to Peter's and my delight. She staggered to her feet, with as much grace as she could muster, and said, "I think I need to go. Kyle's reading gave me such a headache I must have become dizzy. Make sure he doesn't come over next time, ok Petey?" Peter played it safe and didn't say anything as Jenny glared at me, got her things together and left. After she closed the door, I exclaimed, "Holy crap! How can anybody be that stupid? She must be faking it. I don't think any girl is really that ditzy." "If she's faking it, she's really good at it," said Peter. "Thanks for staying, though. I thought you were about to leave a few times." "I was ready to," I said. "And now you see what I mean about needing a challenge, right?" asked Peter. "Kind of," I said. "I mean, it would creep me out if some guy was that desperate for attention and he was all over me, even if he was hot. But I don't think I'd turn him down if he was that insistent." "You never know until you have some weirdo all over you," said Peter. "I guess you're right," I said. "And I still don't get how you deal with it." "What's to get?" said Peter. "I just remind myself that the girl I woo is going to be 100 times better than any of the people who throw themselves at me. That, and I jerk off a whole lot." "Well, if you ever need any help, let me know," I said. "If you ever grow boobs, let me know," said Peter. Me and Peter hung out until about 6:00 when his parents came back home. Peter's dad was kind enough to offer me a ride home. Peter and I agreed to meet again on Wednesday afternoon so I could help him keep a safe distance from Jenny, and I also managed to get my five bucks back, along with $3.50 (the contents of Peter's pockets) as a tip for me helping him that night. When I got home, James was sitting on his couch watching bonus footage from his CSI DVD. I didn't see Brian or Aaron anywhere. "Are Brian and Aaron upstairs?" I asked. "No," said James. "They left two hours ago. They wanted to wait for you, but they had to get back in time to meet with their deans." I grabbed the cordless and ran up to my room. There was no way I was going to let them leave without saying goodbye. (Well, they had already left, but you get the idea.) I jumped onto my bed, dialed the number for their dorm and hoped they were there. "Yo," answered Aaron. "Hey, you guys just left without saying anything," I said. "Yeah, sorry about that. We were in a hurry. Brian had an appointment with his dean tonight at 5:30. The students are being interviewed to see which programs to cut and stuff. It's really retarded." "Is he there now?" "No, sorry. Not sure when he'll be back, either." "Well, I can call back later." "What? You don't want to talk to me." "Oh, sorry. I just--" "No, it's cool. I know you like Brian more. I do, too. And thanks for sharing him this weekend." "'Sharing him?' Last I checked he belongs to you." "Only in the sack. Everywhere else, he's all yours." "But why? If I mean so much to him, why can't we be boyfriends?" I had been thinking out loud, not realizing I had made such a comment to Brian's significant other. But Aaron was always a cool guy and took it better than most. "Kyle, do you really want to put yourself through this again? I thought we had cleared this up." "Sorry. I just can't help thinking that there might be the smallest chance we could be together." "Dude, you are together. You're the closest friends I know. And someday, you're going to meet a boy that makes you say, 'Brian who?'" "I highly doubt that." "Oh, it'll happen." "Did Brian make you forget about other guys?" "Yeah, at least the ones that don't matter. James is still pretty hot and Marky Mark still makes me drool, but the other guys I had been with don't matter at all." "'Other guys?' I didn't know you dated before Brian." "Well, they weren't really dates. If dating a guy means you care about him and do nice stuff for him, then they definitely weren't dates." "Then what were they?" "I don't know. Whatever they were, they hurt." "What happened?" "I got used. Abused, really. I was looking for a soul mate, they were looking for a cum rag. But Brain was different. He wasn't interested in sex. I mean, he was, but he never even talked about it until I brought it up. When I looked at him, I saw a beautiful boy who was hurt, and I wanted to protect him. I just wanted to hold him and keep him away from his father and the people who hurt him." "Well, you're doing a good job. He's always really laid back whenever he's around you." "Thanks. And one day, you'll find a boy who will protect you." "You know, it really frustrates me when people go on like that. 'Oh, you'll find a man eventually.' 'You just have to wait until you're ready.'" "What do you expect me to say? 'You will find love on Flag Day.'" "No. I know no one can just tell me who I will fall in love with or when I will meet him, but they don't all have to be so vague about it." "It can't be helped. Love is vague. Two years ago, I thought love was when a guy would let me suck him off. Now, I know that love is . . . is . . . you know, I've never really thought about it. I mean, I know I love Brian, but I don't know why. It's an interesting question: why do I love Brian? When I find out, I'll let you know." "Yeah, well, you do that." "I will. Talk to you later." "Bye." I thought about Aaron's inadvertent point as I hung up the phone. It was a good question. I knew why I loved Brian, or at least why I loved him at first. I found out that I was loving him for the wrong reasons. But I didn't know what the reasons were now. 'I know I love him,' I thought. 'I love him because . . . he's a nice guy, because he is fun to hang out with. But so is James, and I have no desire to jump him.' I threw my head back on my pillow and stared at the ceiling, pondering the enigmatic nature of love. I thought about Romeo and Juliet and their take on love, and how they would rather die than be without it. I thought about John Lennon and wondered if love really is all you need. It was obviously important and some people spend their entire lives searching for it. I decided love was a bigger issue than a 16-year-old boy could tackle in one night and I left it alone. "I love Brian," I told myself. "That's all I need to know for now." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ That's all until chapter 7. Remember to tell me what you thought at bluedragon314@gmail.com And for those who want to help, I am trying to get my stories posted on www.awesomedude.com and it's taking a while to get a responce. So, if you want to encourage the boys at AD to post my story, send an e-mail to Tragic Rabbit at story-editor@awesomedude.com and tell him what you think of BE and OC.