Off Campus

by Amy Jo Cousins

  He tried to picture himself, golden Tom of two years ago, holding hands with a guy in the dark and asking—no, begging—the guy to let Tom blow him and almost sent himself into a panic. How the fuck handling his own shit and trying to operate at a base level of not being a total asshole had led here, he didn’t know. His hands clenched on Reese’s until he knew he was crushing bones painfully tight, but he couldn’t let go. Reese had his own need for control, but so did Tom. He’d been broken, broken and shattered in a million pieces, and the man he’d managed to reassemble out of the wreck of his past life didn’t know much, but he knew this one thing.

  “I can’t be that guy. Don’t make me be that guy.”

  Tom waited.

  It felt like meditating, breathing in and out in time with the man who stood in front of him, waiting to know what would happen next. To find out which scary alternative would be offered to him. Never doing this again, because he couldn’t, he just couldn’t be the guy who took advantage, not anymore. Or, almost more scary and the thing that might leave Tom the one trembling with nerves…in another minute or an hour or the next day, Tom would be on his knees, unsure of himself and so, so vulnerable.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  The shift in Reese’s body that let him know they were going to be okay, at least for this, was invisible in the dark, but he felt it with his hands as the tension in Reese’s wrist slipped away. A tiny thing, but enough to let him know it was okay to reach a hand out and feel for the buckle of Reese’s belt and tug him closer with it.

  His hands were shaking, the clatter of the belt buckle as it slipped out of his fingers and hit the floor loud enough to make them jerk. He’d felt less spotlit when the lights were on and Reese was watching him stroke himself. It didn’t help that he knew Reese’s eyes had to have adjusted to the dark too, that he knew Reese could see him clearly enough, head bowed before him.

  But maybe Reese could tell how freaked out he was, because a moment later his hands were bracketing Tom’s face and lifting it up while he bent down and laid his mouth against Tom’s, who opened to him like coming home. Reese’s lips were soft and shifting against his, pressing and letting go, his tongue a slow stroke for a moment that slid back to shared breathing and then drifting kisses that landed all over Tom’s face until he closed his eyes as they fell on his eyelids. The tension he didn’t know he’d been holding in his shoulders and chest melted away.

  Reese lifted his mouth to speak.

  “It’s kind of weird for both of us, okay? Don’t stress.”

  He nodded, eyes stinging a little, and held still for one last kiss. His breathing steadied as he pulled his face away from Reese’s and tugged again on the waistband he held in curled fingers. Reese shifted forward a step until he stood between Tom’s knees and sucked in his stomach as Tom opened his jeans and pushed them down his thighs, taking his briefs with them because he didn’t think he could do this in slow steps.

  “Tickles.”

  Reese’s whisper made him smile and press a kiss to the newly bared skin of his stomach. While he was there, he stopped to lick a line from the bump of one hip bone to the other. Too skinny, his boy was. Needed to eat more. But the taste of him, clean and warm under Tom’s tongue kicked off a slow burn in his gut that he’d thought was done for the night. He rested his teeth against the edge of Reese’s hip and resisted giving him a bite. Warm skin under his mouth quivered and he smiled, hyperaware of the cock inches from his face. From his mouth.

  “Don’t you dare.” Reese tried to sound stern but failed as the giggles broke out when Tom let his teeth close a microscopic amount, the gentlest of nips. The skin of Reese’s flat stomach quaked with silent laughter as Tom sucked on it.

  The lightness saved him, made it okay to push his face forward and down, pressing his nose into the scruff of pubes and inhale, the rich earthy smell of Reese clicking with something deep in his belly. He felt the muscles of Reese’s stomach move before he heard the words.

  “Sorry. I’m normally pretty well-groomed, but I haven’t been, you know…” Reese’s voice was tight, “…using the equipment, so maintenance has fallen way off plan.” His laugh sounded brittle.

  Tom stroked a hand down Reese’s flank, steadying them both. When he nudged Reese a step back and slid off the bed to land his knees on the pillow, he felt the tension ratchet up in the sudden tensing of Reese’s quad. But the more nervous Reese got, the further Tom’s calm took hold.

  “Just saying, if you end up picking pubes out of your teeth, sorry ’bout that.”

  He gave Reese’s hip a squeeze with one hand, slipping the other between his thighs and sliding it up until he cupped Reese’s balls in his hand, holding still.

  “Shh. Only one of us gets to be nervous about giving a first blowjob,” he teased, stroking a finger along the skin farther back but careful not to approach anything near ass territory, until Reese had to put a hand on his shoulder as he inhaled on a hiss.

  He was only joking now, nerves evaporating in the thrill of hearing the noises escape from Reese with his every touch. To make him gasp was as easy as leaning forward and taking the tip of his dick in Tom’s mouth, curling his tongue around the head and sucking softly until the tang of pre-come leaked into his mouth. To make him moan, a hand slicking that mix of spit and come down the length of Reese’s dick with a tight grip.

  The pillow under his knees was cheap as shit and the linoleum floor made his bones ache, but he didn’t give a damn. The heady surge of giving pleasure to this man rose in him like a cresting wave and he felt himself getting hard again. He would play his boy like a fucking instrument and let the music wash him clean.

  But Reese was hung up on his joke maybe, because he pushed a hand down between Tom’s face, blocking him, and spoke in between panting breaths.

  “Wait. You don’t have to.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Tom licked at the hand in his way, wriggling his tongue in between the vee of two fingers and glancing the tip against the hot smooth skin of Reese’s dick.

  Reese’s hand in his hair jerked him back. “No. Don’t. If you aren’t into it—”

  “Will you shut up?” Tom lifted his head and hoped Reese’s night vision was good enough to see that his eyes were wide open. “I’m so fucking into this you’re gonna have to blow me all over again when I’m done, okay? Now get your hands out of the fucking way and let me suck your dick.”

  Reese snorted with laughter but his fingers trembled when he rested them on Tom’s shoulders.

  He turned his head and pressed a kiss into Reese’s knuckles until Reese’s other hand landed on his head, feathering lightly against his hair. But after a moment, he pulled himself away until Reese let go. Then he leaned in again.

  Enough fucking around. Time to get serious.

  Reese’s dick had only been half-committed to the event at hand, but Tom wrapped his lips around his teeth, his hand around the base, and focused on getting its full attention. The feeling of Reese’s dick, swelling, hardening, against his tongue was like a reward for good behavior. He discovered that Reese had told the truth. Everything was easier when he let some more spit leak out of his mouth and the entire endeavor got sloppy and wet. The sudden uptick in volume of Reese’s moans and occasional muttered curses was clear feedback that he approved.

  Tom’s jaw was aching and his respect for everyone, male or female, who’d ever blown him was going through the roof, but he ignored the dull pain radiating in his face and concentrated on experimenting, determined to figure out all of the things that made Reese catch his breath and groan fuuuck while his hands flexed in Tom’s hair. Once, he skimmed a hand up Reese’s chest to find his nipple, pinching hard right as he sucked tightly up his length, only to gag as Reese’s hips snapped and his dick pressed in on Tom’s throat.

  “Sorry,” Reese gasped, pulling back.

  Tom shook his head and pressed forward, han
ds pulling Reese’s hips in smooth pulses as he swallowed and tried not to gag. He trusted Reese not to go too far and concentrated on the press of dick against the roof of his mouth, applying the flat of his tongue as a lever, with satisfying results.

  Soon enough, Reese was pushing him back, gasping out a warning.

  “Tom. I’m gonna come.”

  He knew there was risk. God, with Reese’s behavior, the risk might even be real. But this thing he was doing, this blowjob—something Reese used for control, for revenge almost, against the past—felt to Tom like a gift that he could give. When he’d had nothing for so long to give to anyone at all. So he ignored the push and the warning and continued sucking.

  He needed to give something. He could give this.

  He hadn’t thought Reese’s dick could get any harder, but it did, the thin skin stretched so tight it felt like marble right as Reese’s breath caught, held, his entire body locked in place as he came silently, his dick spilling hot and slippery in Tom’s mouth, come slipping past his lips.

  Shit. Swallowing was harder than it looked.

  He knew what he liked, so Tom sucked on Reese until he stopped coming and softened. He let his roommate’s penis slip free of his mouth and coughed a little. He was out of breath and his own dick hung heavy and hard, needing only a moment’s attention to have him coming again, but Tom ignored it to wallow in the moment, pretty sure he’d given the best first blowjob ever.

  He rested his head against Reese’s thigh, grinning to himself, feeling Reese’s weight pushing back on him as his boy slumped against him. After a minute, Reese tugged him up and pulled him across the room to his own bed, pushing Tom down onto it before straddling his thighs. Looked like he hadn’t forgotten what Tom had told him pre-blowjob. His hand on Tom’s aching dick was strong and sure and in less than thirty seconds Tom was arching his back and shooting come across his own belly again.

  Reese wiped them both off with a sheet before kicking it to the foot of the bed and pushing Tom onto his side, facing the room. He snuggled up behind Tom and wrapped his arm around him. Tom let go of his worry and trusted Reese to know that he was okay with them together in his bed.

  “Holy shit,” Reese whispered and stroked Tom’s chest, making him shiver when he skimmed over one hypersensitive nipple.

  “Totally.” His front was cool with evaporating sweat but Reese radiated heat at his back and he was too fucking tired to move an arm in search of a blanket. He felt flattened, as if a steamroller had smashed him to a pulp and laid him out in a stripe on a road. There was probably some more articulate thing he should say to Reese, but Tom couldn’t figure it out as a wave of sleep swept over him.

  Holy shit indeed.

  Every muscle in his body ached.

  He woke up slowly, becoming aware of each body part as it complained, hands gripping tight to the edge of the mattress, curled up on his side with his top leg flung back over Reese’s legs in a tangle that helped him balance on the bed instead of landing in a painful heap on the floor. Reese might not hog the covers, not that it was cool enough for them to need much, but he sure didn’t give up more than about six inches of mattress.

  Tom rolled off the bed and dug a pair of track pants out of his dresser. The need to brush his teeth before Reese woke up prodded at him. Spending the night with someone was weird.

  By the time he got back, Reese was awake. Not up. Lying there on the bed with a little smile as if he knew a fantastic secret, watching him walk in the door.

  “Scoot over.”

  Reese backed up until his spine was pressed against the wall. Tom climbed on the bed and laid down, both of them on their sides, facing each other, which on the skinny ass twin bed left about ten inches of space between their faces.

  “Morning.” He was still working out if and when and how the whole touching thing worked with Reese. Definitely a different set of rules than the hookups, but the idea of getting it wrong gave him a chill that was not the good kind of shivery. Letting Reese make the first move seemed like a permanently good idea.

  “Morning.”

  Tom knew the grin on his face was goofy, more fit for a teenager playing Ding Dong Ditch maybe, but he let his freak flag fly. Fuck it.

  Reese shifted forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Tom closed his eyes for a second then opened them again to find his roommate watching him, no matching grin in sight.

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Holy shit. Already? It’s been two nights?”

  “Ha ha. Seriously.”

  “Okay. I can do serious. Sorry. Ignore the grinning.”

  “You’re such a dork.”

  He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue until Reese laughed at him.

  But he settled down quickly enough when the laughter faded off Reese’s lips. Energy was zinging through his veins until he felt as if he could shoot lightning bolts out of his fingertips, but he could lock it down to listen.

  “I’m out.”

  Zap.

  Two words that sucked the zippiness right out of him. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew this conversation was coming. Just hadn’t thought it would be now.

  Reese looked at him.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Even if I wanted to, which I don’t, the closet is no longer an option for me.”

  Tom nodded. He understood.

  Understanding didn’t make it easier, though.

  “I’m not in the same place.”

  “Not out obviously. And not planning on it?”

  “It’s not like that. I don’t want people to know this, ’cause I don’t want them to know jack shit about me. Everything that gets out there about me is gonna end up in a fucking gossip column. No question.”

  Reese nodded. Maybe the giant neon sign reading “Okay, but…” was only visible to Tom.

  The pause dragged on. He saw Reese lining up the words in his head, getting everything in proper order. Trying to find the right words that would tell Tom he was full of shit and could go play in traffic. With a blindfold.

  Reese didn’t blink when he spoke.

  “I understand. I really do.”

  “But.”

  A sad smile on a face he only wanted to make happy.

  “But, I already have one secret thing I don’t talk about with hardly anyone. I can’t have another secret thing, you know? I just can’t.”

  “I get it. I…don’t know what to say.” He stared at the wrinkled sheet between them. “I’m doing my best this year to stay off everyone’s radar. The dean basically told me that I’m gone if my being here causes a fucking press circus.”

  “Are you sure? I heard she was pretty great.”

  “There’s a shitload of deans. Maybe that was one of the other ones. I’m sure. I got it in writing.” The urge to touch was overwhelming. He traced the edge of Reese’s eyebrow with one finger. Such an elegant curve. “Imagine the headlines. Jailbird’s Son Turns Gay in Despair. Criminal or Cocksucker, News at Nine. Pretty sure a shot of me with my new boyfriend would bring the paparazzi running.”

  Reese rolled his eyes and laughed out loud.

  “You know they can’t say cocksucker on television, right?”

  “They’ll make an exception for me.”

  “Not even for you, hot stuff.”

  Reese had a smile on his face but it looked like a battered postcard pinned to a dorm door with one bent thumbtack, perilously close to falling to the floor.

  “So what do we do?” He didn’t have a solution. Hoped Reese was chock full of good ideas about how to make this not suck. He smoothed a hand over the wrinkled sheet, pressing it flat and smooth, only to watch the creases pop back up after his hand passed over them.

  “Not sure. This can’t be a thing where we hide in our room—”

  “Like we’ve been doi
ng all semester.”

  “—like we’ve been doing all semester—”

  “Except with more fucking.”

  “—and avoiding the world. I don’t need a frigging therapist to know that’s a bad idea. Neither of us need another reason to do that.”

  “Yeah, that’s kind of my entire plan for this year, you know?”

  “I know. But I think that’s a sucky plan, Tom. You’re not a criminal. You don’t have to shut yourself up in a prison.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you? Because it feels like you think you deserve to be punished.”

  He stared at the sharp line of Reese’s collarbone, avoiding his gaze.

  “Maybe I do.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because I was kind of an asshole, Reese.” He struggled to articulate the thing that had been a driving need in him the night before. “I thought I walked on fucking water and everybody worshipped me and that they should because there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do, you know?” His voice sank like a pebble in an inky black well until it was a whisper that wouldn’t even echo in the depths. “You wouldn’t have liked me very much then.”

  “Were you an asshole like…you know, those guys?”

  “Fuck, no. I was a jerk. Not a fucking rapist.”

  “Okay. So you were a jerk. Don’t be a jerk anymore, right?”

  “It’s not that easy. It’s like, everyone knows all of this stuff about me, but—”

  “But none of it’s true about you now.”

  “Jesus, this is fucking torture. Talking about all this.”

  “And you want me to go to therapy?”

  “Ha ha. Very funny. Fuck. Yes, okay? None of it’s true anymore. Or at least, most of it isn’t, but I can see it in their eyes when people look at me and I can’t walk around with a fucking sign. Tom Worthington, changed man. Promise.” He flashed two thumbs up and a politician’s shit-eating grin at Reese for a second before letting it all fade.