Soft & Stone Pt. 02

Part Three

Stone had wrapped up his shower a minute or two later, keeping his back to me before slinging a towel around his waist and cheerily saying he'd see me back at the room. I couldn't believe it, until all of a sudden I could. Of course that's how it had ended. I'd known Stone was straight as an arrowhead, having heard about his high school sexcapades with a bevy of girls before being born again his freshman year here, convicted about his fornicating proclivities and re-committed to abstaining till marriage despite a steady stream of options. Once he'd mentioned that he'd even given up jerking off for the most part. Why did I think I, of all people, would lure him from his years of disciplined asceticism? I'd wished I was at least in my usual stalled shower downstairs and able to conclude my fantasy, but wrapped up and headed back to the room instead, passing windows bombarded with angry pellets of rain on the way.

Stone shouted at me as I walked through the common room where he'd commandeered the TV, saying to get dressed and meet him out there. Technically, he wasn't supposed to be on campus, but I knew my supervisor would be out late celebrating the end of training anyway. We watched a movie as the storm raged on outside, both drifting towards sleep at the end and waking up to the credits ready for sleep.

He got to the room first and I heard him exclaim from the hall, "Damnit, Luz, we left the window wide open!" I didn't understand until I followed his gaze to the futon directly underneath the window, its right half sopping wet from the storm. I took a few steps over and placed my hand against the pillowy cushion, so soaked it dripped from the pressure.

"Well, shit."

"Shit indeed. That's gonna take until morning to dry, at least." Stone paused, then let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm so freaking tired, man. What makes sense?"

I felt my throat constrict, remembering our tangle of bodies in my bed for an accidental few moments last night, the twin mattress barely able to hold us both. And yet, it felt like the only option available to us, unable to imagine him sleeping on the hard tiled floor. I looked sheepishly up at my lofted bed, then back to him.

He scratched the back of his head, a bashful grin spread across his face. "I'm the literal worse. Show up early even after you warned me not to, crash at your place, and now you're sharing your own bed! You're a saint, Luz. The saint of...Baptists don't really do saints, but you're the saint of keeping my ass from sleeping on linoleum." He peeled off his shirt and shorts while speaking, wearing only a light blue pair of tight fitting briefs now. "Seriously, thank you," he said earnestly. "This is above and beyond."

"Are you kidding? I'm the one who arranged my room so that my couch would get soaked anytime it rained," I said, feeling the blood begin to rush to my dick anticipating a night of proximity to Stone, hurrying up onto my bed with an awkward leap to cover my lap with a blanket before I reached full mast. Stone followed suit, careful to avoid slipping this time, though our bodies only had a few more inches of distance than the night before.

I curled against the cement wall, trying to make room for the width of his upper body which felt comically expansive in the narrow shared space. Nearly naked, he lay uncovered beside me with his hands pinned behind his head, his biceps bulging slightly. Long, pale legs matted with dark hair stretched out to the very foot of the bed. He let out a laugh at the absurdity of the moment. "Well, this is gonna suck, but I guess it sucks less than trying to make do down there! Are you...I mean, this isn't exactly comfortable, but you good? Aren't you on fire in a shirt and under a blanket?"

The room had gotten noticeably warmer in the ten minutes since we'd shut the window, sealing in the humid late summer air. That, coupled with the innate warmth radiating off of Stone mere inches from me did have me feeling the heat. "Well I didn't think about what it'd be like sleeping next to a human furnace," I joked, tossing the blanket aside and reaching down to hit the light switch, then shyly removing my shirt, thankful for the cover of dark. I'd never have done even that, but figuring Stone had just seen a lot more than my bare torso, I figured why not.

He laughed again, running an unexpected finger lightly up my arm and then down his side. "We clearly needed to get out more this summer. We're practically glowing in the dark!" He was right, our nearly matching paleness luminescent under the moon's glow.

For the first hour or so, we tossed and turned carefully, avoiding but the briefest of touches. Sleep felt far off, my cock pressing uncomfortably into me, hidden as I slept on my stomach. The fresh, clean scent of our recently soaped bodies intermingled in the looming heat, perfuming the air between and above us. There was a moment when he bent his leg, thigh bumping against my own. For three thudding heartbeats, he left it there, his skin sending electric shocks to my own, before shyly pulling it away.

I stole glances at Stone laying on his back in the moonlight, savoring the striations across his body that were visible up-close, his marbled muscles glowing. Eventually, it seemed like his breath slowed, and his arm dropped from behind his head, falling sidled against my own. I could feel the hairs of this thick forearm, the smoothness of his skin against mine, and just enjoyed being so close to him as I drifted to sleep.

I woke a little later, noticing the sensation of more smooth skin. Stone had turned to face me in his sleep, and my forearms brushed against the tautness of his chest. His legs had drifted over towards me, one hairy calf nestled between mine, a foot resting atop my own. I inhaled the persisting soapy scent of him, close enough that I could basically lick him if I wanted to. And, so badly, I wanted to. I was so turned on by his fleshy presence, the maleness of his fine-tuned body.

I laid there, enjoying every centimeter of skin sharing contact with his. Blood surged to my cock and a dark thought began thudding in my mind. Eventually, I my perverse curiosity getting the best of me, I gently raised a knee, enjoying the way his leg felt moving against my own, until I settled onto his groin. I felt his hardness straining against me, a bout of morning wood striking early, filling the pouch of his briefs. I gave a ginger push against it, only to see a shockwave move through his body, muscles briefly bulging as his abs contracted. A surprisingly high-pitched moan escaped his throat and then I felt a shuddering beneath my knee, his cock spasming one, two, three, four times, a sudden moistness bleeding through the fabric.

I was immediately embarrassed ---- for him? for me? I had only wanted to cop a cheeky feel, with my knee for God's sake. I hadn't meant to ignite an ejaculation. But then, I realized when a strapping young man swimming in testosterone at his sexual prime forgoes release, he's bound to be ready to bust. I swiftly turned away from him to face the wall. As I expected from my own firsthand experience, it took him little bit to emerge from the tantalizing dreamscape of a nocturnal emission. As I remembered my own confusing experiences of hazily noticing a sticky wetness, I could hear him suddenly come to, his breath lurching to a start, then stopping. Then, whispered under his breath, "Shit! Shit."

A moment later, Stone had risen beside me to hoist himself off the bed. Straining my ears, I heard him whisper "Fuck!" to himself before rifling through his backpack then yanking his briefs down and padding softly out the door. My heart was thudding at what had unfolded so quickly.

I figured he was taking a quick shower to clean his messed tangle of pubes off, and darkly considered that I had a few minutes.

Almost without thinking, I was on the ground, shining my phone's flashlight onto the light blue soiled briefs. The front pouch was completely covered in creamy, gooey spunk, some of it still milky white. On instinct, I brought it up to my face, smelling his bleachy jizz, remembering the four thrums under my knee as it made its way through his slit. I scooped up a coin-sized dollop, felt its sticky slickness between my fingers, then flicked my tongue to find a salty shock. My chest pounding, I imagined him returning to find me, and immediately dropped them to the ground, lurching back into bed. I was disappointed but not surprised when Stone returned, tested the mostly-dry futon, and laid down there instead of returning. I hoped it was a sign of his considerateness in not wanting to wake me, and not something else.

Part Four

The next day had been, well, a little weird. Stone was gone again when I woke up, no sticky note this time but I realized it was Sunday morning and he was probably at church, his first time back after a summer away. His cum-stained underpants had been tucked away somewhere discreet. I texted him after breakfast to see what he was up to, and he let me know he was spending the afternoon with some people from his Bible study but would be back that evening. I tried not to think much of it, passing the time at my small studio in the art building, unable to halt the loop of last night playing through my mind. Stone in all his glory glistening across from me under the showerhead, his bulbous ass and perfect cock. Stone much nearer, his nakedness echoing mine, fingers sudsing the tendrils of my hair, open palms massaging my scalp. Stone glowing under the lunar light, stretched out so close beside me for hours through the night, my skin brushing against his. Stone moaning, the tight coil of his body sprung as his hardness spasmed to release round after round of hot white spunk as he slept. Unsurprisingly, my canvas revealed an abstract array of pale figures ---- spheres, pillars, organic watery puddles.

Around 5, my phone buzzed with an offer to meet him for dinner in town in an hour. When we met up, there was his usual easiness, but I felt like I could sense a crouching tension beneath it. We chatted, mostly staying at the surface, and he suggested we check out his friend's open mic performance after dinner. The band was pretty awful, and I couldn't help but wonder if he'd just wanted to find something to do out in public, away from the room. Eventually, though, it was the only place to return to, and I noticed a considerable uptick in his nervous energy as we settled in.

/

"Hey, Luz. Uh. Hey, I gotta tell you something," he said a few minutes later, sitting down on the futon.

I grabbed the desk chair across from him, unsure of what to expect. A confrontation? An excommunication? "Oh. Sure Stone, what's up?"

Normally a bastion of easygoing confidence, he could hardly look up from the floor. He took a deep breath, then began: "So, before I start, I know this is fucking weird. I've debated all day telling you, because it would be easy not to, but I dunno...that feels wrong. And I think this is just gonna eat away at me otherwise." Another pause, his face warming crimson. "Anyway, I had a wet dream last night. When I was sleeping next to you."

I let out my own quiet sigh, simultaneously surprised and relieved by his confession. Not to mention a little confused. "Oh? I mean, that's okay man. I don't even think God can hold that one against you, right? Sorta seems like they wired us for that to happen eventually."

He laughed, softening briefly before another sharp intake that left him stiff once again. I could tell he was forcing himself to hold my gaze now. "Yeah, no. That's not the weird part. Which is sorta crazy, because me telling you that is already really fucking weird. But...yeah. Yeah. The thing is, the dream was...you were in it. I mean, the dream was about you."

I swallowed hard, unsure of how to make sense of what he'd just shared. Was it some weird physiological trick ---- his psyche knowing I was beside him and subconsciously assuming something? my nearby pheromones infiltrating his system and conjuring up a dream of me? "Well..."I began before trailing off, then laughing if only to try to break the ice. "Sure, definitely didn't expect that, but it's just a dream, Stone. Not like you chose it or anything."

"No, but I feel like I did." A beat passed, but I had no clue what he meant, or how to respond. Suddenly, he sprung up off the couch, energy igniting him as he paced around. "Luz! I don't fucking know what's going on! My entire life I've been surrounded by dicks swinging every which way around me, never once gave any of them or their owners a second thought. You know? I've told you about my high school days. I couldn't get enough of the girls there, and I loved loving them. And even though I stopped sleeping around a few years back, it's not like the desire went away. I've dreamt about so many of the women here, often trying hard as I could not to. I never, ever thought I'd suddenly be dreaming of...you."

I knew he didn't mean offense. In fact, I was maybe even more confused than he was. Sure, I had longed for this very revelation all summer, but it had always felt as plausible as winning the lottery. I hadn't ever expected it to come true.

"At first, I was just noticing how nice it was to be around you. How well you listened to me, how seriously you took me. The way you made me feel, like I could just be who I really am. Like you could see that even better than I could. And then I was noticing how much I'd missed you, you know, over the summer. I didn't think it'd be so hard, being away. And now, being back, it's like...holy shit dude. I'm sorry, I know this is too much. I just gotta get it off my chest." He let out a long breath, a smile breaking through. "You look so good, Luz. The hair! That goofy big ass smile! I was like, 'What the fuck's going on?' Cause I know you're not a guy, but you're sure as shit not a woman. So I'm thinking to myself, 'Why's my dick getting hard thinking about somebody who's got their own dick?' You know?"

I could feel the queer theory 101 from class rising instinctively. "Well, our sexuality's on a spectrum," was my knee-jerk response, registering canned and hollow in light of what Stone had just shared. But I could hardly keep my heart from breaking through my chest, let alone think of something better.

"No, yeah, I know. It's just that my spectrum has always been more like, blonde to brunette, you know? Never...someone with the same anatomy as me. Do you think, I dunno, could there be something inside of me that knows you're nonbinary?"

Later in life, I'd look back on this comment as one of the most gender-affirming experiences I'd ever have. Maybe he could sense it? Maybe it did make a difference? I replied softly, "I mean, stranger things have happened." Like this conversation, for instance.

"So, anyway. I felt like I had to get it off my chest, you know, that I've been feeling all of that. And...fuck. I'm sorry, I'm not proud of this, but that's sort of what last night was about. In the showers. The shampoo. I just, like, I mean," he stammered, blushing again. "I think your hair looks really good? I dunno. It's not like I planned it or anything. But I had all these suds and I saw you there and it was like, 'I have to feel what it's like.' And then I got fucking hard, and I felt so guilty. Because I know you're deal. I know you're asexual and stuff, and like that stuff's not really what you're into. Or I guess there's nothing you're really into."

Before I could even process what he'd said, I shot back, "Wait, Stone, wait. No. I was...I was fucking into it. I was hard as hell. You didn't see me?"

He responded quickly, "No, dude! I wasn't checking out your junk and shit. You gotta keep it eye-level in the showers." I immediately cringed at my own bold-faced lust last night, practically drooling taking in every inch of Stone's body in the shower, unable to restrain my curiosity when I pressed my knee against his hardness as he slept. And to think, an attraction had been coursing through him too. Surely not as intense as mine, but there all the same. I was struck by his purity, how much better a person he was than me. "Wait, what?" he asked suddenly, as if finally processing what I'd said.

It was my turn to grow sheepish. "Uh, yeah. So about that. Yes, that's generally been my experience, my attraction to people fading faster than I know what to do with it. But for some reason, with you...with you it never went away." I let my admission float a moment, then quipped, "Congrats, man! You're genuinely so sexy that even I can't resist."

I expected him to join me in laughter, but instead he'd turned serious again, almost more so than before. "Oh fuck," he said before a long pause. "Shit. Shit. Luz, shit. I didn't know that. I was telling you all this because I thought, you know, for sure that wouldn't be the case. I was trying to get it off my chest." His eyes, drooping with sadness, met mine. "This isn't something I can like, go for. You know? You get that, right?"

Of course I did. Stone had set aside his affections for women for years. And, beyond that, I could connect the dots. He'd never batted an eye about my gender, I guess taking a "God's business, not mine" approach, but I knew a Baptist boy like him couldn't square away same-sex love or anything of the sort within his own moral code. All the same, a white rage fireworked inside me, so fucking frustrated at the disciplined goodness I'd just appreciated moments ago. I could understand Stone's reluctance, but I couldn't bring myself to aid it.

"Yeah, I get it. It's not like I thought we'd ever date or anything." Hadn't I? It had all happened so suddenly and so fast, I hadn't ever really imagined one direction or the other. Mostly, I had fantasized about his body, unsure of what would follow from there. Darkly, I decided to say one more piece: "But you've gotta say, what are the odds, right? You've never liked anyone but women, and I've never liked, well, anyone at all really. I guess the stars aligned for naught, huh?"

Stone raised his eyebrows, surprised into speechlessness by my final observation. I looked at his handsome, befuddled face, and ached at his chiseled beauty. My chest constricted. I'd gone 19 years without a want like this, let alone the possibility of achieving it. I didn't know if it was all I'd get, or if it'd ever leave, a spectral desire fallen short, haunting me from here on out. What a joke! The cards taken from the table as soon as they were laid down, and a full fucking house no less. I was still shocked, but invigorated, by the recognition that somehow Stone wanted me too, the reality of it crashing over me one wave after another. I didn't need a lifetime, but I wanted a night.

I ran my hands through my hair, part genuine exasperation, part strategic seduction. Who would've thought this dark tangled mess of waves would make such a difference? "Look, Stone. I really don't want to push you. I respect your faith, your morals. But the way things worked out...this is crazy! You see it, right?" Desperately, impulsively, I reached out for his hand, pulled it against my booming heart. "Right?"

"Luz..." he said, sad watery eyes looking down into mine. It felt like the room was caving in.

"Okay," And then, finally, "We should get to bed, I guess? And maybe the futon is still wet?" I said, my voice quivering. "And maybe you want to sleep this last night up there...with me?"

I watched Stone as he looked away. A pensive expression weighing across his face. His heavy, protruding chest lifting and falling with breath. He removed his shirt with his back to me, then stepped out of his shorts. He gestured towards the lightswitch and I nodded, taking off my shirt and stepping out of my jeans as the room went dark. Then, slowly, he passed me and the dresser, settling on the futon with a sigh. I was unsure if I'd be able to stifle the sob rising through my ribcage as I made my way up to the bed. Laying there, I bit my lip, glowering at the cruelty of it all.