by A. J. Truman
“The education department and I have that in common,” Ethan shot out. His filter was shutting itself off more and more around Greg. He figured he couldn’t say anything more outrageous or ridiculous than what they were doing, and he realized that he didn’t care about impressing him. He was getting Greg off on a regular basis; he was already in his good graces. And Greg never seemed to mind, never seemed to judge what came out of his mouth.
Quite the opposite, he was laughing right now. His cheeks bunched up to his eyes as he shook his head at Ethan. “You are…an interesting specimen, Folly.”
“Um, okay?” Ethan didn’t know how to interpret that choice of words, but it made him feel dinged.
“Relax. It’s a compliment.”
Ethan thought it over. He’d never been called interesting, but he also had never tried to be interesting. Interesting made people stand out, not blend in.
“So I’m curious,” Ethan said, the words catching in his throat. “Why do you enjoy this? Fooling around in public.”
“You’re not having a good time yourself?”
Ethan blushed. That was not an untrue statement.
“I’m trying to shake things up. Browerton can make people rigid. This place… Well, it needs a big ol’ ‘fuck you’ from time to time.”
“You don’t like it here?”
“I do, but it still needs a ‘fuck you.’”
Ethan wasn’t sure he agreed. Compared to his hometown, where everyone seemed to have a preordained path to the suburbs and Corporate America, Browerton allowed for more freedom.
Greg glanced over at the smartboard, all shiny and unscuffed. “I’ll give you a grand tour of the place later. You think this is cool? You haven’t seen the main lecture hall.”
“How do you know so much about Carver? I thought you only had a distro here.”
Greg waited a moment before answering, and his eyes squinted into an introspective stare. He seemed to think over his answer to what Ethan thought was a straightforward question. “It’s a cool place. I gave myself the grand tour at the start of the semester.”
Ethan nodded. There were times during their rendezvous when Ethan wondered if things between them were more than sex. A strange thought had come over him two days before when they’d fooled around in a chemistry lab.
Are Greg and I friends?
They were friendly at least, but Ethan enjoyed spending time with him, and not just for the sex. He felt a unique type of comfort with him that he didn’t have with his friends. Having secrets bonded people, the yin to friendship’s yang. But right as Ethan would internally declare to himself that yes, he and Greg were friends, Greg would withhold information, putting up an invisible wall between them. Ethan would watch his eyes squint as he rejiggered his story or changed the subject altogether.
Like he did now.
And Ethan was okay with that. Because they were friendly, just not friends, and that was fine.
Ethan brushed his fingers along the smartboard as he headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Greg asked.
“I thought you were giving me the grand tour?”
“I said later.” Greg ambled up to him, so close that Ethan could smell the unique, Greg-boy scent. He scraped a finger along Ethan’s belt buckle. “We’re not finished here yet.”
Greg undid his belt, then his fly, then reached in and grabbed Ethan with his firm hand. He pushed Ethan against a poster with a cheesy inspirational slogan and jerked him off. No slobs, though. Never slobs. That was one step too far. They weren’t that friendly.
Φ
Friday night, Ethan and his friends went to an Ethiopian restaurant a few towns over. It was his first time at such a place. They sat on what seemed like oversized bongo drums around a low table, and the server brought out a serving dish of different clumps of food atop a spongy bread used for scooping. The food didn’t look appetizing; to Ethan, it looked already eaten.
“Just try it,” Jessica said. She flashed him a smile and took a bite herself. “See? I’m still alive. And it’s good! I promise!”
“I’m gonna need about a thousand moist towelettes after this,” Blake said, licking the remnants of some chicken dish off his hands.
“Please don’t say moist. I hate that word,” Anna said. She tucked her napkin into her T-shirt, which had “Not Everything in Kansas is Flat” written over her boobs.
“Moist!” Blake yelled, and Preston looked away in embarrassment. He covered it up with a smile at his boyfriend, but Ethan sensed that Preston was slightly annoyed with his not-so-better half.
“Eat!” Jessica prodded Ethan. He held the food inches from his face.
Ethan counted to three and shoved the food into his mouth. A warm, savory flavor flooded his mouth. He scooped up some more in his spongy bread and gobbled it down.
“Good, right?”
He nodded. By his count, this was the fourth new cuisine Jessica had introduced him to over their friendship. First had been sushi, then Mediterranean, then Cuban. Her taste buds were fearless, and Ethan was glad he could be along for the ride.
“I loved going out for Ethiopian with my aunt and uncle. There’s so many different flavors on one plate. It’s like your mouth can’t get enough,” she said.
Ethan laughed. Or more like giggled. The same giggle he broke into whenever he thought about Greg around his friends. It was his extremely secret inside joke. It’s like your mouth just can’t get enough. He liked it better when Greg said it to him.
Am I really blowing some frat guy in buildings across campus? What happens when we run out? Ethan shook it off. Yes, Greg was hot and sexy and funny, but he was also straight. Although he had been with a guy… Not to mention that he only wanted Ethan as a willing participant for his public sex hobby. Ethan was basically picked at random. Greg could’ve used any guy. He just knew Ethan would be so mortified he wouldn’t tell anyone. Ethan wondered if he was the only person Greg was doing this with, and the thought made his stomach churn. For safety, STD-related reasons only.
He would have talked to Jessica about it, but he knew instantly what she would say: Disgusting.
“What’s so funny?” Jessica asked in her scrunched-up face.
“Nothing.”
“Why were you hysterically laughing then?” Her clipped tone stung Ethan. Was she offended?
“No, no. I wasn’t laughing at you. Just…” He searched for the right answer—well, an appropriate answer. Not the truth. Not here. That would bring dinner to a screeching halt. He could feel his eyes squinting with a thought. “I don’t know. I’m stupid. I can’t believe I was such a baby about eating this food. It’s delicious!”
Was that enough of an answer or too much? He tried to gauge her reaction. She pulled her lips into a smile that didn’t make Ethan feel much better.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Φ
Greg seeped further into Ethan’s thoughts. He couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without connecting the experience to Greg. And he hated himself each time. Doing laundry? Greg’s clothes always had a fresh smell of detergent mixed in with his natural boy scent. (Ethan was impressed that Greg’s clothes were kept clean.) Walking around campus? Ethan passed by a trio of guys wearing the Greek letters of Greg’s frat. Doing reading for Constitutional Law? That one was a given. Ethan heard Greg’s snarky commentary throughout the entire chapter. Greg had probably never cracked open the textbook.
“This has to be one-sided,” Ethan said to himself in his empty dorm room on Sunday night. That only made it worse. There was no way Greg was into him at all, which made Ethan seem pathetic for having what amounted to a schoolgirl crush. With a lot of sex included. But still, a schoolgirl crush.
How did this happen? Ethan asked himself while he reviewed his schedule for the week. It was just hooking up in public. Greg was still the obnoxious kid from class, only now Ethan had seen all sides of him. But he was still Greg. His friends would hate him.
Thankfull
y, classes brought Ethan back into the swing of things on Monday. His attention was now distracted by learning and schoolwork and grades and getting into law school and all of the wonderful things that Ethan focused on pre-Greg. Maybe he just needed to keep this side of his brain stimulated at all times in order to avoid being stimulated by Greg.
Ten minutes before his world literature class ended, Ethan received a text message. He’d forgotten to silence his phone, but then again, he never received texts on Monday mornings.
What are you up to this afternoon?
It was from Greg! Ethan meant, Oh, it was from Greg.
“Please put cell phones away until the end of class,” his professor said. Ethan sat in the front row. This was unavoidable.
There were only eight minutes left, but they went by staggeringly slow. Ethan literally watched the secondhand tick away on the classroom clock as his mind scrambled with excitement. He felt that familiar buzz circulating in his system, and of course, he had an erection not too long after.
Once class was over, Ethan stayed seated until, ahem, everything was under control. Then he dashed out and responded to Greg.
Nothing. I’m wide open.
Are you now ;)
That one was too easy.
You typed it.
Did you want—
Ethan stopped himself. Was he supposed to propose a plan? Greg had willingly taken the reins of their arrangement so far. What was the rule in this situation? Ethan didn’t even know the rules in a normal dating setup. This was completely foreign turf.
Luckily, Greg replied back. Let’s catch a movie.
CHAPTER fifteen
The town had a large multiplex that played a nice variety of blockbusters and art house films. One of the benefits of Duncannon was the better selection of movies than Ethan’s hometown. Greg scanned the list while a bored employee waited in the box office.
“The New Wonderfuls is supposed to be really quirky, like a Wes Anderson film,” Ethan said.
Greg wasn’t impressed.
“It’s gotten great reviews.”
“I don’t care about reviews. When did it come out?” Greg asked. He wore a polo and green shorts with flip-flops. It was the first day of fall. Ethan was already in a light sweater.
“I think it just came out this weekend.”
“Pass.” Greg continued scanning the board. Ethan wondered if he actually wanted to see a movie, and the possibility made his heart beat even faster.
“What about Liberated?” Greg asked.
That was a movie Ethan and his friends had seen opening weekend. Not his choice. It was about some imprisoned journalists in the Sudan. That was all Ethan remembered before he had dozed off.
“It starts in twenty minutes. How long has it been out?”
“At least since school started.”
“Perfect.” Greg slapped Ethan on the back. His brown eyes made his smile seem even warmer.
Greg paid for his ticket.
“Thank you so much!” Ethan sounded overly grateful, but it had been a long time since anybody had paid for his ticket.
“Don’t worry about it. You can cover snacks.”
“I don’t know if we’ll be eating.” Ethan nudged his side. Then he realized they were still in front of the bored employee, and he looked down. So much for being smooth.
“Get some popcorn,” Greg instructed and headed into the theater.
“With butter?”
He shrugged. It seemed to be the last thing on his mind. Ethan decided against it. What if butter on his hands caused irritation to certain body parts? He also got a Coke, just in case they got thirsty.
Greg sat in the back row, and Ethan’s nerves stood on-edge. The anticipation and excitement consumed him. Knowing his skin would be making contact with Greg’s tight, tanned flesh momentarily, all while in public view, made him dizzy and caused his knees to clack together. Climbing those stairs felt like their own form of foreplay, getting his engine revved.
“Hey,” Greg said. He tossed popcorn into his mouth. “Sweet. You got soda, too.”
“I got Coke.”
“That’s fine.”
“What do you usually drink when you go to the movies?”
“This.” Greg pulled out a flask from his pocket.
“Seriously?”
“Trust me, it makes movie-watching that much better.” He poured the contents into the Coke.
“Maybe I should get another,” Ethan said. Either that or he’d have to add public intoxication to his list of illicit activities on a Monday afternoon.
“It’s not that much. It’ll calm you.”
“I am calm.”
Greg shot him a disbelieving look. And he was right—Ethan would never be calm. He seemed destined to always have thirty thoughts running through his head at once.
Suddenly, a thirty-first thought occurred to him: this is totally illegal.
“Are you sure this is okay? What if we get arrested for like indecent exposure?”
Fooling around in a public place off-campus was a whole new ballgame. They didn’t run the risk of getting caught by their college rent-a-cop. They could be apprehended by real police. Ethan shriveled up, and his leg shook with a new kind of nervousness.
“We’ll be careful,” Greg said. “C’mon, Folly. We need to step up our game, keep things interesting.”
Ethan wanted to stay interesting. He took a sip of the soda and felt the faint alcohol sting hit the back of his throat. “That’s all I’m having. I’m not getting drunk.”
“Just promise not to shove your feet in my face.”
He remembered! Ethan’s heart fluttered, but he quickly put it in its place. So he was listening outside the coffee shop; that did not mean anything except that he wasn’t a complete asshole.
Just before the lights went down, Ethan heard a familiar voice, and it set off a panic alarm.
“Let’s go! The movie’s starting,” Jessica whispered loudly. Her orders carried up to the top of the theater, and she would be rounding the corner into the auditorium any second.
Ethan gasped. He pointed to the entrance. “My friends.”
“Get down,” Greg whispered.
Ethan kneeled on the floor next to Greg’s knees and made a mental note of his tree-trunk legs and strong calf muscles.
“I like sitting here so I can put my feet up on the railing,” Jessica said.
“Is that too close?” That was Dave, who was about to be overruled.
Ethan tapped on Greg’s knee. “Who’s down there?”
“I count five. Three guys, two girls.” Greg offered the popcorn bag to Ethan. He refused.
“Five?”
The whole gang was here. Ethan reached into his pocket, which was no easy task in this position, and felt for his phone. No messages. Full cell reception.
The theater went dark, and the trailers started. Ethan got back into his seat and glared down at his friends. Hurt bruised his insides. Blake leaned his head against Preston’s shoulder.
Greg leaned in. “We’re going to have so much more fun than they are.”
He proceeded to massage Ethan’s thigh, his calloused hand rubbing the muscle with a firm grip. Ethan watched his fingers guide their way around his thigh and into a more sensitive area.
Ethan pushed him away. The mood was gone, down in front with his friends. Once again, he was the odd man out.
“Relax,” Greg whispered in his ear. “Fuck ‘em.”
Nerves ate at him. Mega-public place. Friends a few rows away. The movie was a quiet drama, not an action blockbuster, so they couldn’t be loud.
Greg massaged Ethan’s shoulder—thorough rubs that calmed him down. He tried to reciprocate, but Greg pushed his hand away.
“My turn,” Greg whispered into Ethan’s ear, his stubble chafing against his ear lobe. Passion rumbled within Ethan and made him rise to the occasion.
Greg ran his hand down Ethan’s arm and grabbed his erection through his jeans. A wave of
excitement slammed Ethan’s body.
“Hold this.” Greg gave him the popcorn, and Ethan held it at his knees. Greg lifted up the armrest and unzipped Ethan, and his cock sprung out of his underwear, empowered by the cooled air of the very open theater. Their legs were touching, which, in spite of what was happening, was what drove Ethan craziest of all.
Greg wrapped his hand around Ethan’s hard-on and stroked it with deep, forceful movements. Ethan’s hips rose to meet Greg’s hand. They had a system down, but this never got old. Ethan tried to act as lookout, but those dark brown eyes drilled into him, down to his core. Greg leaned down and took him in his mouth.
Whoa! Ethan struggled for breath as his heart seemed determined to pole-vault out of his chest. He dug his nails into Greg’s back as the ecstasy of this moment possessed him. His whole body was on the best part of pins-and-needles, when things just tingled.
To Ethan’s surprise, Greg knew his way around a dick. Ethan wondered if he’d had much practice or if he’d learned by watching others. He ran his fingers through the prickly hairs at the back of Greg’s neck.
Greg went even faster. Ethan loved entering his warm mouth, having his tongue slobber all over Ethan’s hardness. (Now he got why they called it slobs.) He couldn’t moan, so he took in a deeper breath of air. He looked down and was turned on by the sight of his dick out in a place he’d been tons of times. And there was Greg, fully into the blowjob. This was the very definition of living on the edge.
His nervousness and the forced silence made the pleasure rocking his body all the more intense. The popcorn bag shook in his trembling hand. A stray kernel landed on Greg’s bobbing head. Ethan could feel his orgasm throughout his body, spiraling from the tips of his toes, heating up his chest, making his eyesight fuzzy. He wanted to warn Greg, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t speak. His motor functions were on a delay. At the last second, he yanked Greg away and shot his load into the bag of popcorn.
Once Ethan’s body returned to stasis levels, he looked over at Greg, who sat back in his chair and smirked. His lips were wet with saliva, and it made his mouth glisten in the darkness.
