Boston Boys [01] - A Life Without You (8 page)

Only football season is over.

“What the hell is going on?” growls Jesse. He has been bent over an assignment for hours. “They’ve been at it for ten minutes.”

“Wanna check it out?” I ask after hours of
pretending
to be studying. I can’t get Jesse off my mind. It’s a good thing Eric’s been dragging me off to the library every day, so I’m up to speed with everything, but Eric went to town to see his friends today.

I brush against Jesse as we go out the door. He glances at me very quickly, but I’m too slow to catch his eyes. My fingers twitch as we stride down the corridor side by side. I have this sudden urge to grab his hand, but I know he wouldn’t let me. I might be able to guilt him into letting me hold it back in the room, because he’s being extra considerate of me, but he’d never allow it in public.

It’s not like he’s let me kiss him or touch him since the bathroom incident two weeks ago, but he’s tried to be very open with me and allows me to ogle him without raising a complaint.

Well, he sometimes teases me, but it’s all good natured. The only time we’ve spoken of the bathroom thing was after I finally stood up and exited the bathroom. I apologized to him, saying that I really didn’t know what I was doing until I was doing it. He said that it was his fault really, for following me into the bathroom knowing full well how aroused both of us were.

I don’t know if the beast within me scared him, but he hasn’t risked any deep questions about male sex again. Maybe something general while we shoot hoops or shop at the mall, but
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never anything about my own experiences like he did back then.

We walk down the stairs and see a group of guys standing in a circle. They are guys from our dorm as well as a few from other dorms. In the middle is a scrawny, mousy-haired, pimply faced kid with glasses who looks too young to be in college. I know he’s attending, though, because I’ve seen him around.

There’s nothing serious going on. The kid is sitting on the floor with cartons of tomato juice scattered about, some empty, some still unopened. The guys are chanting “chug, chug, chug,” and hoot when he rips open another carton.

This is not uncommon. They’re taking bets on how much he can drink. Seriously, the guys in this dorm will bet on anything.

Eric once said he could stand barefooted on ice for three minutes, after a heated argument with Chester, and before he had finished the sentence someone had produced a clump of ice for him to stand on. Eric was stubborn enough to hold out, but we had to rush him to the ER to be treated for first degree frostbite after. Since Eric’s vain as hell he worried that his feet would get permanent marks, but his feet were fine after a couple of days.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jesse shouts over the crowd below. When the scrawny kid in the middle looks up, his eyes widen at the sight of Jesse.

“Betting,” Chester says. “You in? Be quick though because he looks like he’s about to barf.”

The kid is already green in the face, but he tears his eyes away from Jesse and opens another carton. There’s a big, empty bucket next to him. I’m already searching my pockets for dollars when Jesse shouts again.

“Stop it. This is stupid.” He jumps down the last few steps and pushes through, but just as he reaches the middle the kid hunches over and pukes into the bucket.

Roughly half of the guys groan and the other half cheers, but everyone backs away when a second wave of puke forces its way out of the kid’s gut, almost filling the bucket with red liquid.

Jesse bends down and puts his hand on the kid’s back, but A Life Without You
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the kid shakes Jesse off. Jesse’s eyebrows pull together and his fists clench. I don’t understand why he’s upset. He’s taken part in these bets. He’s even been the object of a bet once after claiming that he knew the names of every Boston Celtics basketball player since 1946.

“Come on, Zeke, I’ll help you to the bathroom,” Jesse says and tries to get the kid to stand up, but Zeke shakes Jesse off again.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles just before heaving over the bucket again.

Chester brings him another bucket, but doesn’t go near the almost-full one.

“Come on,” Jesse repeats, but Zeke stands up and stumbles past the Box towards the exit.

“Never eating tomatoes again,” Zeke mumbles and burps.

“Got homework.”

“Zeke,” Jesse calls after him. “Zeke!” Jesse stares at the door for a long time after Zeke leaves. No one notices since the rest of the guys are exchanging wrinkled bills and paper-rock-scissoring who gets to take care of the bucket full of vomit.

My voice is low when I speak. “Jesse.” I’m standing next to him, but he doesn’t seem to know I’m here. “Jesse,” I whisper into his ear and slide my hand to the small of his back.

Jesse jerks and looks at me, face so close that I’d only have to lean down a little… He gazes into my eyes, but I can’t make out what he’s thinking. He looks almost pained. The warmth from his skin has my palm smoldering where it still lingers on the small of his back.

“Aww maaaan,” Josh, Chester’s roommate, groans and thereby breaks our quiet gaze.

Jesse jumps four feet away from me and looks from one guy to the next, obviously wondering if they saw us standing so intimately close. I don’t think they did. At least, no one is looking
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at us funny. They’re just laughing and nudging Josh towards the sick-bucket.

“Um, I’m gonna go shoot some hoops,” says Jesse, his hands tucked into the back pockets of his pants, his eyes focused on the exit.

I reach out a hand to touch his shoulder, but he moves away.

“Are you okay? Want me to come with you?”

“I’m fine, I just need to be alone for a minute, okay?” He doesn’t look up; he just turns and leaves me behind with a head full of questions. I don’t know whether I should follow. I’m worried and a little hurt that he pushed me away, because I want to be there for him if there’s something weighing on his mind.

I’m curious about his relationship with that Zeke kid. Maybe he’s someone Jesse knew from back home?

§ § § §

Two days later I still haven’t asked Jesse about Zeke. It’s as if he can sense whenever I’m about to bring it up, so he’ll start talking about something out of the blue. But I corner him on the evening of the second day and when he knows what I’m about to ask, he turns and tries to open the bathroom door. I push my hand against the wood so that it won’t open.

“Adam, what are you doing?” Jesse asks, his back against my front, his head firmly turned away from me.

“Jesse, talk to me,” I say in a low voice. His body is so close that I want to wrap my arms around his narrow torso and sexy hips. He’s wearing blue jeans and I haven’t been able to take my eyes off the curve of his ass all day. Instead of jumping his body, though, I allow myself to lower my head until my forehead is rested against his soft hair. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.” Jesse doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push me away either.

I slide my free hand around his waist and pull his warm body against mine. It’s a daring move, but as long as he’s not stopping me I feel confident. I drop my other hand to loop around his upper body, my palm resting over his rapidly beating heart. I pull A Life Without You
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him into a tight hug, my crotch connecting with his lower back.

His low, ragged breath rattles in my ears when I brush my lips against the back of his head and plant a kiss right in the curve where his neck meets his sounder.

Jesse shudders under my touch. He exposes his neck and I press my lips against it, slowly, deeply, expressing my love for him with every single kiss. I glance up and see that his eyes are closed, his lips slack and half parted, his body slowly relaxing against mine. I want to ram him against the wall and possess his body with mine, instead I rest my forehead against his jaw and squeeze my eyes shut.

My hand over his heart travels downwards and under his shirt.

The soft, hot skin on his stomach makes me writhe with desire.

He leans against me, the back of his head against my shoulder.

He yearns for it: my touch, my kiss, my body. It makes my head sing. My lips work their way up to his jaw and he turns his head a little so that our lips meet, hot, wet, and trembling. I kiss him deeply before sliding my tongue into his mouth.

Jesse turns around in my arms and I pull him as close as I can with both my hands under his shirt, sliding over his soft skin. I don’t know which is pounding harder, the erection in my pants or my bursting heart. I don’t care about that Zeke kid anymore and I don’t care about Jesse’s girlfriend, because at this very moment, Jesse is mine.

“Adam,” he whispers against my lips between kisses. That sweet, gentle sound of my name arouses me even more and breaks what little restraint I had. I fumble with the buttons on his jeans and rip them apart. Jesse pulls my t-shirt over my head and I moan when I feel his soft hands clutch my back. I abandon his unbuttoned pants and pull his shirt off, too. I want to feel his smooth skin against mine.

Jesse pushes his chest against me and wraps his arms around my neck. I force my thigh between his legs and lift him off the ground with my fingers spread wide over his ass cheeks. I grope and rub the denim with a low growl. His heavy breathing fills the air when I lick and bite his neck and his thighs press firmly
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against my hips.

“Adam! Come on now, I know you’re in there,” someone calls from the other side of the door. It’s Eric. He must have been knocking for a while now. Jesse’s eyes lose their soft, cloudy haze, and widen with reality. His face flushes while he frees himself, wrenching open the bathroom door and slamming it shut in my face.

“Adam! We have exams to study for. What the hell are you doing in there? If you’re sleeping again, I swear I’ll –”

“I’m coming,” I growl. God damn Eric. Of all the times to interrupt…

I yank my shirt on, adjust the erection in my jeans, and grab my books. I know Jesse’s embarrassed. He’s probably sitting in the bathroom beating himself up over what almost happened.

There’s no use in me trying to get him to let me in.

I know he won’t. He’s remembered that he’s straight, that I’m a guy, and that he has a girlfriend.

Who, as if on cue, is calling his cell phone this very minute. I quickly snatch up the phone and bark at her to call later before I wrench the door open.

“What are you glaring at?” Eric asks me when I meet him in the hallway. “You’re supposed to be studying, exams are in a week you know.”

I can’t tell him about Jesse for Jesse’s sake. Besides, it’s really none of Eric’s business. Instead I swallow down my fury because Eric can never know just what it was he interrupted.

Jesse’s already in bed when I come back. It’s almost midnight and my head is crammed with information on 19th century British literature. It’s Saturday, but Eric insists that we use every spare minute to study. It’s been like this since the semester started; Eric is nervous about the exams, so he takes it out on me by having
me
study harder. But I can’t deny that it would be foolish not to let him push me, because our grades are among the highest in our year.

A Life Without You
61

He’s kept me so busy tonight that I haven’t had much time to think about Jesse. But now that I’m here, standing on the very spot where I’d kissed Jesse some hours earlier, it all comes rushing back. As much as my mind and body was infused with Jesse before, all that is left now is the prickling sensation in my chest as I wonder how this will affect our friendship. He’s been so quiet the past few weeks that I’m beginning to worry. He might even go back to avoiding me altogether. Worst-case scenario he might leave.

I peel off my clothes for a shower and let the freezing water soothe my piercing head. I can’t be bothered to find clean boxers, so I drop down on my bed and pull up the cover. Only when I’m lying in the quiet darkness do I realize that Jesse’s breathing suggests that he’s awake.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” I ask.

Jesse lies still for a moment, back turned to me, but then he seems to decide that it’s no use pretending to be asleep. “No, I’ve been trying to fall asleep.”

I get the hint, so I lie quietly on my stomach, staring at the beautiful curve of his bare shoulder. I bet he wishes he could take back everything that’s happened between us, but he can’t.

His body wanted mine. He whispered my name. He wanted me like I wanted him. Every single detail of it is etched in my mind. I wonder if straight guys can desire another guy like that or if this means that Jesse really is bi.

God, I want him. I want all of him – mind, body and soul. He occupies my mind every single minute of every single day when Eric isn’t cramming texts down my throat. I think about him so much that I can’t fall asleep at night.

I have to stay off my bed during the day or risk losing consciousness until someone comes along and wakes me up. I think about him so much that food no longer has taste, and the area around me goes grey and blurry.

Jesse sighs. “Will you stop looking at me like that?” I still lie on my stomach, my cheek pressed against my pillow.

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“Like what?”

“Like a panther about to jump its prey.”

“What, you grew eyes in the back of your head?”

“I can
feel
you staring at me.”

“I can’t help it,” I say, only to feel my heart lurch. I’ve done enough damage for one day.

Jesse sighs again and turns his body towards mine. “Look, what happened today… it shouldn’t have, okay?”

“Okay,” I answer. I could tease him. I could argue. I could defend the moment we shared, but I’m not going to because I would die if Jesse left me.

He looks at me for a long time in the blue moonlight that pours through the window.

“Look,” he says and sits up, the white sheet pooling down around his slim waist. The moon casts a prismatic sheen on his dark body. “It’s not…easy sharing a room with you.” He’s going to leave. My stomach clenches, my throat tightens, my chest aches. What can I say to make him stay?