Class Reunion Ch. 03

Newly revised version copyright 2006 by the author.

PART FIVE

Lucas awoke late the next morning. He had no idea what time it was until he looked at his clock, which said half-past nine. He had missed breakfast and half his Shakespeare class. Despite the long hours he had slept, he felt unutterably tired and sad. After a moment he remembered why.

During the succeeding days, which gradually stretched to a week, then two, Lucas wondered if he were physically ill. He was so fatigued he could barely drag himself out of bed in the morning, yet at night he would spend hours tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. He stopped going to the pool, stopped exercising altogether. He thought that he might gain weight as a result, but he didn't, because he also had no appetite.

For the first time he also lost interest in his classes. He skipped sessions for no particular reason, and sat silent, not participating, when he did go. He missed the deadline for turning in a paper for the Shakespeare class, and didn't really care.

Josephine, his editor at the Banner, asked to meet with him one day. Lucas was sure that she was going to nag him about an article he hadn't turned in, but instead she asked, "Lucas, have you been sick?"

He shook his head.

"You look really awful," Josephine said. Lucas noted with a distant amusement how strained her voice sounded, as if sympathy were not an emotion it was used to conveying.

"I know you want that article. I'll get it done," he said, every word a great effort.

"Lucas, if you're not up to it, I can get Eric," his editor said, referring to another reporter on the Banner staff.

"No!" Lucas said, momentarily goaded into energy by the thought of Eric, whom he considered a hack, getting his hands on his story. "Look, thanks for your concern, but it'll get done." He sank again into lethargy, staring at his hands in his lap.

Josephine looked doubtful. "Okay. You need to have it in by tomorrow morning to get it in this week's edition."

Lucas nodded, and left. As he walked out of the Student Union, he saw his Shakespeare professor, Dr. Jonathan Evans, coming toward him. He had skipped the class that morning as well. Just his luck he should run into his instructor now, but he didn't have the energy to avoid the encounter.

"Mr. Boatright? I missed you in class this morning." Lucas liked Dr. Evans, a tall, dark-haired man with an angular, striking face and sharply intelligent brown eyes.

Lucas sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I wasn't sick or anything. I just didn't feel up to it."

His professor looked thoughtful. "This is not a usual attitude with you, Lucas. You also haven't turned in the paper that was due last week."

"I don't have any excuse for that either. I know it's too late, I'll just take the F on it."

By now his instructor looked genuinely concerned. "Lucas," he said, "Could I talk with you a moment?"

They sat in the large foyer just inside the main entrance. "Lucas," Evans said, "I don't make it a habit to pry into the private lives of my students. But I'm worried about you. Has something happened?"

Lucas discovered at that moment he could still feel emotion, because a surge of grief welled in him, and he blinked back tears. As much as he liked his instructor, he felt unable to confide the secret sorrow that was tormenting him. After a moment, he said, "It's not important, really. I'll get over it. I'm sorry about the way I've been acting lately. Thanks for your concern, Dr. Evans."

Jonathan Evans persisted. "I also don't make it a habit to compare students in a class, but I will say this. You're one of the best in there. Actually, you're one of the best I've had in quite a while. That's why I'm worried. I don't want to see you go down because of whatever's bothering you. Is there any way I can help?"

Lucas said, "Can I still try and do the paper?"

"If you feel you can. It's Wednesday, and the paper's a week late. I could give you until Monday, but no longer. Is that fair?"

Lucas nodded.

"And try and make it to class, okay? Remember, class participation is factored into your grade too."

He forced a smile as the professor fell into his customary didactic manner. "Got it, sir. And thanks for your understanding."

Evans rose, and laid a friendly hand on Lucas' shoulder. "Lucas, feel free to call or stop by if you need to talk."

Lucas nodded. "Thanks, Dr. Evans."

He sat back, staring into space. His spirits, lifted briefly by Evans' concern, relapsed into the black hopelessness that now marked his existence. Another student walked by. He smiled and nodded without speaking. Lucas barely returned the greeting. He recognized the boy who occupied the other single room in his hall--what was his name? Kevin, that was it. He recalled that Kevin was a campus activist of some sort. Lucas had seen him mentioned in Banner articles, though he had never himself had any contact with him.

That night, he sat in front of the computer in his room. With a start, he realized that he had not written or done anything else for twenty minutes, and it was now almost midnight. He had somehow managed to finish the Banner article, though even in his current apathy he cringed at the perfunctory way he had accomplished the task. Still, it was done, and he e-mailed it to Josephine. But the essay for the Shakespeare class had stymied him. Reading the texts, with their flowery, eloquent meditations on the subject of love, simply brought memories of Will flooding back.

Whoever had said that stuff about how it was better to have loved and lost was full of shit. Better that he had never seen Will's smile, never argued and laughed with him while they hammered out his writing assignments. Better that he had never known Will's strength, never seen the tenderness on his face as the handsome athlete had taken both his body and his peace of mind.

"You should be writing this crap down," Lucas said out loud. He felt a helpless rage at the funk he was in, from such an unworthy cause. Why the hell couldn't he snap out of it? Suddenly the small room was stifling. He pushed his chair back and walked out into the hall.

He headed for the stairs, but his feet somehow carried him up rather than down. At the top, after ascending one floor, a metal door opened out to the roof. A stern sign warned against using it, but students had long ago discovered that there was no alarm, and the door could be propped open for re-entry. Consequently, the roof had become a favorite hangout on pleasant nights for a quick smoke, whether of tobacco or other substances. Other, less solitary activities also took place there, most often up against the walls of a square concrete block which housed electrical and cooling systems.

The door opened readily when Lucas pushed on it. He carefully propped it ajar with the cinder block someone had thoughtfully provided for that purpose, then stepped out onto the rough, unfinished surface of the roof. There was justification for the warning given, as there was no guardrail around most of the perimeter. But yet another attraction was the spectacular view of the campus, especially when lit at night. The illuminated buildings, surrounded by dark masses of trees, connected by the luminous threads of concrete walkways edged with lamps, drew Lucas' attention, as morose as he was. He walked close to the edge and gazed across at the tall tower of the campus chapel.

He tried to clear his mind, breathe in the night air and take in the sight. Lucas wondered what Will would have thought of this view, if he had ever had the chance to bring him up here. They had done so little together, beyond the interview, studying and the one trip to the lake, and...

The image of the chapel tower blurred in his field of vision. Will's wicked grin, his graceful form slicing through the water, his voice whispering encouragement, his caressing hand, his thrusting hips--the images crowded in and overwhelmed his defenses. Lucas wiped away the tears, but they continued to fall. He stared again at the chapel, ablaze with light in ironic contrast to his grief. He stepped to the very edge of the roof and looked down at the ground four stories below. What if he just stepped off? Would the pain stop? His right foot slid forward as he watched it, fascinated. He lifted it into the air, over the edge.

Suddenly running footsteps sounded behind him. As Lucas started to turn, a pair of arms circled his chest from behind and dragged him back. Whoever had taken hold of him overbalanced and fell heavily backward, taking Lucas with him. His unknown rescuer's body cushioned his fall, but Lucas heard a cry of pain as the person underneath him hit the hard surface. They lay there for a moment, gasping for air.

Lucas struggled to his feet and turned around to see who had grabbed him. He had to peer closely in the dim light to make out the other person's features. "What did you do that for?" he demanded.

"What were you doing so close to the edge?" a masculine voice retorted. "One slip and you would have gone over, idiot." Lucas finally recognized Kevin, who lived across the hall and whom he had seen earlier that day.

The other boy sat up and began brushing himself off. "Are you hurt?" Lucas said, his mind momentarily taken off his own problems.

"Actually, I don't think so, thanks," Kevin said, "Maybe a scrape or two. Don't worry, I'm not going to sue you," he added, with a wry grin.

Lucas said, "I guess I was a little reckless there."

Kevin snorted. "A little?" He peered at Lucas. "Hey, man, it's none of my business, but--you look kind of crazed. What's going on?"

For a moment Lucas stared. Then he laughed. "Crazed? Guess I am."

By now Kevin was on his feet. "Listen, Lucas--it's Lucas, right? You don't look good. I don't think I should let you stay out here."

Momentarily defiant, Lucas said, "So what are you going to do, drag me back inside?"

"Well," Kevin said with a slight smile, "I got a pretty good start. But why don't we just walk the rest of the way? I got some beer back in the room. I don't know about you, but I need a drink."

They walked down the steps in silence. When they got to his door, Kevin turned to Lucas and said, "Seriously, come on in for a minute and chill out."

Lucas opened his mouth to refuse, but then thought of the long sleepless night that lay ahead. He shrugged and said, "Okay."

He refused the beer Kevin offered. Kevin opened a Guinness for himself and they sat, not speaking. Lucas looked at his new acquaintance more closely. He was slightly shorter than Lucas and slender, with straight blond hair and a pleasant, open face. His large, slate-gray eyes were his best feature. Kevin noticed his scrutiny.

"So do I pass inspection?" he said.

"You don't look like a football tackle," Lucas observed.

Kevin grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. Kind of surprised myself there. I saw the situation and reacted. And," he said, more soberly, "I read it right, didn't I?"

Lucas dropped his gaze, unable to answer. He wondered himself at the momentary delirium that had gripped him back on the roof.

Kevin continued, "Look, I don't really know you, but...Lucas, this is a dorm, you know? It's hard not to hear things, especially if you're trying to sleep, and people are arguing across the hall."

Lucas felt his cheeks burning. He was overcome with shame at the thought that someone had overheard that painful confrontation.

"And, I have a lot of nerve saying this, but, well, I might be in a better position than some people to know what you're going through."

Lucas raised his head. His gaze fell on a poster on the wall behind Kevin. It was a blowup of an ad for Abercrombie and Fitch, showing two muscular, shirtless, cavorting young men. Lucas remembered the exact nature of Kevin's activism. He had given a speech one day the previous year on the front steps of the Union building, about tolerance, dignity and being gay.

He looked at Kevin again, and nodded slowly.

Kevin said quietly, "This is going to sound so corny, Lucas. But trust me, things will get better. Jumping off Rainer Hall won't solve anything. It'll just make a big mess and the school will send your folks a bill to clean it up."

Lucas gaped, shocked at Kevin's audacious humor. Kevin stared back, deadpan. Ragged laughter burst from Lucas, and increased in pitch until he was hysterical, tears running down his cheeks. Suddenly he began to cry in earnest. Kevin came to him, knelt by his chair, and held him as his grief spilled out in long, rending sobs.

He began to quiet down, still shaken with sniffles and hiccups. Lucas took off his wet glasses and tried to wipe his tears. He managed to say to Kevin, "I hope that's an old shirt."

Kevin chuckled. "It is. Here, blow your nose on it," and took it off and handed it to Lucas.

Lucas found himself laughing yet again. Careening between extremes of emotion was making him dizzy. "You are something else," he said.

"I'll take that as a compliment too," Kevin said. "And I'm serious about the shirt."

Obediently Lucas folded the brown polo shirt and held it to his face. It was warm and had a discreet, pleasant hint of cologne. As he put it down in his lap, he saw Kevin kneeling in front of him, bare-chested, in khaki shorts. His body was compact and toned, not rippled with muscle like Will's, a line of hair highlighting the central ridge of his abdomen.

Lucas met Kevin's gaze, the gray eyes warm and somber. The intimacy of the situation suddenly struck him--his face buried in the clothing of another man, an attractive one, who had just undressed and handed it to him. For the first time in weeks a wave of sensual feeling rose in him. Kevin raised a hand and gently began to stroke Lucas' left cheek and ear. "Is this all right?" he asked.

Lucas nodded, turning toward the caressing hand and kissing it. Kevin grasped his head, pulling his face forward. Their lips met, and parted.

"You're very handsome," Kevin said.

The warmth in Lucas' body hardened into lust. He kissed Kevin again, pressing forward urgently until he tumbled off the chair on which he was sitting. His weight pushed Kevin back onto the floor beneath him. Lucas stretched out on top of the other boy, his mouth still ardently exploring Kevin's.

When they broke apart, Kevin said, "This is great, but my back's cold. Want to get in bed?"

They lay on the small bed and kissed some more. Lucas fumbled with Kevin's shorts. He felt hands loosening his own clothes, sliding his underwear off and releasing his erection. Abruptly Kevin's head was in his crotch, his mouth engulfing his cock. Lucas gasped and closed his eyes, running his hands through the blond hair. He was afraid he would cum too quickly, so after a few moments he urged Kevin off with his hands.

"What's the matter?" his partner asked, "Am I hurting you?"

"No," Lucas replied, "It feels great. It's just that it's my first time."

"You've never done it with a guy before?"

"You're the second one," Lucas confessed, "and the other guy didn't suck me."

"Well, he was a fool," Kevin grinned. "You have a great cock. I'll go slower." He bent down and resumed his labors, moving more slowly, using plenty of spit, teasing the head with his tongue until Lucas cried out with pleasure.

Kevin looked up at him. "Getting close again? I'll quit. I want this baby somewhere else." He kept stroking Lucas lightly with his hand. "I suppose you've never fucked a guy either?"

Lucas shook his head, and Kevin said, leering slightly, "Well, it's not hard for the one doing the fucking. Just lie there a moment while I get the stuff." He got up and opened a drawer in a nearby desk and took out a condom and a small bottle. Kevin turned and came toward the bed again, his own cock jutting stiffly in front of him. He leaned down and kissed Lucas again before tearing open the foil package and unrolling the rubber over his cock. He slickened Lucas' hooded cock, then held the bottle out toward Lucas, who took it, not quite sure what to do.

"I'd love it if you'd lube me up, guy," Kevin said. He got down on all fours next to Lucas on the narrow bed, facing away from him. Lucas squeezed some of the thick, cold gel onto his fingers and tentatively touched them to the cleft between Kevin's cheeks. He heard the other boy's intake of breath. His index finger found the opening and pushed in. Kevin's head snapped upward. "Nice," he breathed. Emboldened, Lucas wormed his way in with two fingers, marveling at the softness of the flesh inside. Kevin reached under his body and began to masturbate himself. "Do it to me, buddy," he urged.

Lucas rose and turned so that he was kneeling behind Kevin. He gazed at his muscled back and shoulders, tapering down to the small, shapely butt being offered to him. He placed his cock against Kevin's asshole. One push of his hips and the head slid in, too fast. "Ow!" Kevin cried.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Lucas said, pulling out, mortified at having hurt him.

Kevin turned, smiling despite the pain. "Not to worry, guy. It just went in a little fast, that's all. Let me rest a minute and we'll try it again. Take it slow, okay?"

Lucas got into position again, pressing forward more carefully. Kevin gasped as he entered this time but did not cry out. Lucas watched his latex-covered shaft disappear between the spread cheeks, felt the smooth heat of Kevin's rectum. His partner moaned softly. "Are you okay?" Lucas asked.

"Great," Kevin replied. "Don't stop. Make me take it all."

Lucas pushed until his pubic bone was pressed against Kevin's cheeks and he could go no further.

"Christ," Kevin breathed, "That is fine." He began to stroke himself again. "Fuck me now, buddy." Lucas obediently began to move his cock in and out. "How does it look?" Kevin asked.

Lucas grasped Kevin's hips and gazed downward at his dick disappearing between the cheeks. The sight of it sliding in and out was undeniably hot. He began to step up the pace of his thrusts.

"Oh yes," Kevin's voice came from underneath him. "That's it, do it harder, man. Fuck that ass. Your big dick feels good in me."

Lucas leaned down until his head was just behind Kevin's and began to pump even faster.

"Uh huh," Kevin said. "Fuck that ass. Pump those hips. Ram it in. Use my hole, hot stud." The dirty talk excited Lucas past all restraint. He was now hammering Kevin's hole, shoving him forward on the bed with each pounding thrust. His breath began to come in ragged gasps. "I'm going to shoot," he said, next to Kevin's ear.

"Do it guy, I'll cum with you," Kevin said, his hand moving faster and faster on his own dick. "Oh yes-getting there-oh yeah, gonna blow my load, OH YEAH!" His words dissolved into shouts. Lucas felt the ring of sphincter muscles clutch his cock, throbbing as the orgasm shook Kevin's body. The sensation sent him over the edge. He gasped out air in loud grunts as he in turn emptied himself into the rubber, finally collapsing onto Kevin's back.

They stayed joined together for long moments. Lucas raised himself and looked at the man he had conquered, head bowed in submission, and dimly understood the triumph and contempt Will must have felt as he took him. Depression threatened him again at the thought. He pulled out of Kevin's body and lay back on the bed.

Kevin turned, smiling back at Lucas. He reached down to the floor, grabbing the shirt that he had offered to Lucas, and used it to blot up the cum on the bedspread. He grimaced. "I may have to throw this thing in the trash."

Lucas smiled weakly.

Kevin said, "I think I'll finish my beer." He dropped the shirt and padded naked over to where he had left the bottle, took a swig, then returned to the bed. He sat on the edge and offered it to Lucas. "Want some now? You've got to be thirsty after all that exercise."