Date: Sat, 17 Oct 2009 02:29:53 -0400
From: Keiren Connors <keiren.connors@gmail.com>
Subject: Brae Chapter 1

WARNING: This story contains portrayals of homosexual acts and lifestyles.
There may be references to, or explicit descriptions of sex between
consenting adults.


If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or if
reading material that contains these topics violates any law or personal or
religious beliefs, please leave now without reading any further.


If you are under 18 years of age, you may not read this story because it is
against the law.


This story is entirely fictional and any resemblances to actual persons or
events are completely coincidental.


INTRODUCTION: I've been a nifty reader for a long time, but this is my first
go at actually writing something for the archive. I feel as thought I should
warn (potential) readers that this is first and foremost a love story and it
gets off to a bit of a slow start. Sorry, I'm a first timer and I'm still
working on my pacing. So if you're only interested in gratuitous sex, this
probably isn't the story for you. That's not to say that this story won't
feature sexual situations. It will. Eventually. Hope you all enjoy. Your
feedback is welcome.


Brae - Chapter 1


I groaned aloud as the first rays of morning sun blasted through the window
harassing my heavy eyelids and making a sticky, smoldering, mess of my bed.
My sweat drenched legs threatened to become tangled in the already damp and
dirty feeling sheets and despite numerous position changes I was unable to
find any cover from the daylight's assault on my senses.

      "It just figures my room would fucking face east." I groaned inwardly
as I teased one eye open into a squint to re-orient myself to the unfamiliar
room. The empty bed across the room taunted me from its shady corner, a
tempting prospect, one that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

      "Oh fuck it!" I grunted as I threw back the top sheet and extricated
my legs from their entanglement. I took a quick inventory of the state of
the room, trying to determine if the benefits of moving my stuff to the
other side would outweigh the inconvenience. While the majority of my
clothes were unpacked, I hadn't made any real progress unpacking beyond
that, and I figured five minutes of shuffling clothes across the room was
preferable to a year or sleep deprivation. I decided to undertake the chore
immediately as my roommate's arrival was presumably imminent.

      I stripped the sheets off of my bed and threw them onto the other one,
officially marking my territory incase I should be invaded upon by my future
roommate. I proceeded to the dresser and seized an armful of socks and
underwear and transported them across the room to the far dresser, leaving a
trail of white cotton droppings behind me. The room was old and lacked air
conditioning, but it was a decent size with charismatic wood paneling and
cabinetry, high ceilings and lots of windows, mostly clustered around the
newly abandoned bed. The first thing I'd noticed upon entering the room was
the phenomenal view it had over the central square of campus. The almost
fluorescent green of the lawn and its perfectly manicured shrubberies,
enclosed by the old, majestic, stone buildings of campus was a truly breath
taking sight. Somehow, upon seeing that view for the first time, the reality
that I was now a college student had finally hit me.

      As I carried an armful of Speedos across the room I caught a glimpse
of myself in the mirror above the dresser. I paused a moment to make a face
at myself.

      `Good god I'm really here, what am I going to do now? I guess it's too
late to back out at this point.'

      My cerulean blue eyes stared back at me from the glass, the morning
sunshine making them almost alarmingly bright. I studied over my reflection
as thoughts raced through my mind. My mother always teased me about vanity
when she'd catch me spacing out into the mirror, but I've always found it
therapeutic, calming even, sort of like having a private conversation with
myself, a way to collect and process my thoughts. Of course the reflection
that stared back at me was exceptional. A perfect face for a perfect life.

I'd had a charmed upbringing on the Upper East Side complete with a
Hampton's "cottage", private schooling at the illustrious Vance Academy, an
exclusive country club membership in Westchester and, finally, a place on
the varsity swim team at Carrington College, one of the oldest and most
illustrious of the Ivy's. My father is CEO at one of the top consulting
firms in the country and yet he never let anything get in the way of
enjoying his family and it was always clear that we were his top priority.
My mother was a NY socialite, turned fashion model, turned NY socialite, who
lived for nothing more than doting upon her only child.

Yet beneath the perfect façade of my Park Avenue existence, underneath the
perfectly coiffed dirty blond hair, the rich bronze tan, the strong square
jaw line complimenting my rather delicate features and large blue eyes, I've
hidden a torturous secret that threatens my idyllic life.

`You, Braeden Christopher Davenport are a fag. A cock-sucker. Homo.'

"Gay." I said aloud. No matter how much I went over it in my mind, said it
to myself, it somehow just didn't seem real. Up to this point in my life it
hadn't really meant that much. My experimentation hadn't ever gone beyond a
little fooling around with my Hampton's neighbor, Rhett, and we'd never
discussed the ramifications of our dalliances. What did seem real were the
possible ramifications if my secret were ever to get out. Despite growing up
in socially liberal New York, my fear of exposure had always kept me from
acting upon my feelings. What would this year behold for me? While
Carrington provided a safety buffer from home, the fear of ostracization and
taunting was still palpable, especially being a varsity swimmer.

I continued to ponder what the year might have in store for me as I finished
moving my stuff to the shadier side of the room. My day dreaming was
interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. I jumped at the disturbance and
was surprised upon looking at the clock on the wall, to see that it was
almost ten o'clock.

"Coming" I yelled as I put another stack of jeans into a drawer and made my
way over to the door expecting to find my parents waiting to take me
shopping outside. I pulled the door open to reveal a gorgeous strawberry
blond man, almost bowled over by the weight of the duffle bags he was
supporting.

"Oh, umm, hi," I managed, barely able to disguise my surprise.

"Hey, roomie" he grunted as he struggled to push into the room with his
bags.

I watched him, transfixed for a second, before I regained control of my
faculties enough to help him support one of his bags.

"Here let me help you."

"Thanks, but I've got it. I managed to lug these suckers all the way from
the airport, here, so I think I've got it."

He dropped his bags on his side of the room and took a second to assess
their condition. I took his moment of distraction to do a little assessing
of my own. He was tall with a lean muscular body and a deep golden tan. His
short strawberry blond hair was childishly cut and carelessly arranged yet
it complimented his childlike face and sparkling pale green eyes. I was
transfixed, it was all I could do not to drool at the stunning man before
me. He turned towards me extending a hand, his grin bearing a perfect white
smile.

"Hey, I'm Skip. Skip Henderson. Great to finally meet ya, roomie" he
offered.

It took me a second to spit out my words. "Braeden. But everyone just calls
me Brae" I stumbled, taking his hand.

His handshake was warm and welcoming and I immediately felt a stirring, like
a jolt of electricity, in my groin.

"Oh, uhh..." I stammered, suddenly realizing that I was standing in just my
briefs, "Sorry, I guess I should put on some clothes."

"Hey, don't feel like you have to do it on my account."

I immediately perked up, confused and exhilarated by his comment. I
stammered, again, for a moment before he jumped in, seemingly sensing my
discomfort.

"I mean we are going to be teammates and roommates, I'm sure I'll be seeing
you in less. I may as well get used to it now. Besides it's not like you've
got anything to be ashamed of."

"Oh, uh, thanks. My parents should be here any minute though so I should
probably pull myself together," I managed, thoughts racing through my mind.
`Is he coming on to me?! What does this mean?' Uncomfortable, I tried to
steer the conversation towards less arousing topics. "So, what event do you
swim? Where are you from, where are your parents? I couldn't find you on
Facebook" I gushed embarrassingly, wishing I could recall the endless stream
of questions that seemed to spill out of my mouth beyond my control.

Skip laughed, "And people usually say *I'm *chatty. Umm, I swim the 1000 and
the mile. I'm from Kentucky, and I don't have a computer which is why I'm
not on Facebook."

"You don't have a computer?!" I choked in total disbelief.

"Nope. There were a few I could use at school when I needed one, but there
wasn't really money for one at home. Besides, I'm usually pretty busy with
swimming and then my chores around the farm. I'm getting one now though, my
scholarship covers it."

"Wow, you live on a farm?" I was shell shocked. I don't think I'd realized
that people still farmed; I'd certainly never given it any thought.

"Yeah. Tomatoes mostly, some fruit and a little dairy."

"Oh wow, that's really... interesting" I managed, as I groped for some topic
of conversation. "So, where are your parents?"

"They're at home. They couldn't really get away from the farm and my
siblings. Plus the plane tickets would have probably been too expensive."

"Oh." I had never encountered anyone like Skip in my privileged life, and as
much as I desperately wanted to befriend this gorgeous man, I kept drawing
blanks. He was smiling at me again with those dazzling teeth, clearly
waiting for me to actually contribute to the conversation, to offer
something of myself, and here I was dumbstruck.

"So, where are you from?" Skip finally asked, throwing me a bone.

"Manhattan, uh, New York." I stuttered, feeling myself reddening from the
embarrassment of my tongue tied warbling.

"Oh awesome! No way! I've always wanted to visit New York! So, you're from
like the city?"

"Yeah. Upper East Side." His face drew a blank. "Yeah, I'm from the city.
It's pretty awesome. I dunno how I'm going to survive up here, this is
practically the wilderness compared with what I'm used to."

Skip chuckled, flashing a winning smile and bringing his childlike dimples
to my notice. My heart fluttered and I felt another twitch from beneath my
briefs. I picked up a pair of shorts and began pulling them on while Skip
continued questioning me.

"So, do you have siblings?" he asked.

"Nope, it's just me. You've got a spoilt only child for a roommate. I don't
share and always expect to get my way. And first dibs on the bathroom."

Skip chuckled god naturedly at my crack. "Well having six siblings... let's
just say I'm used to having to wait for the bathroom."

"Six! Fuck, I don't know what I'd do with myself! I think I'd go nuts from
lack of privacy or something."

"You get used to it," he smiled, "plus it gets to be fun. You're never
lonely and I think having a lot of kids makes your family more closely knit.
Everyone sorta knows everything about everyone. It's cool. Usually."

"I can't even imagine it." I said, pulling a white polo shirt on. I took a
quick glance at myself in the mirror, liking the way that the snug shirt
hugged my chest, and broad shoulders, and the way the gleaming white offset
my deep summer tan. When I returned my gaze to Skip, our eyes locked and I
shuddered, knowing that he had caught me inspecting my inflection. I felt
another blush rise to my cheeks, `God, why can't I keep it together around
this guy? How am I going to get through a year like this? Was he checking me
out? Maybe?'

"I like your shirt. It's mighty fancy." He said eagerly. "Are you going
somewhere nice?"

"Fancy? I wear polos almost everyday. Although I guess they wouldn't really
be proper attire on a farm." I said, suddenly feeling sheepish and sort of
entitled.

"Nah, they wouldn't at all."

"I'm not going anywhere special. My parents were just going to take me over
to Target to buy a few things for the room. Like some extra shelves and bins
for my stuff, and a TV, fridge, and air conditioner."

"Oh geez, that sounds really expensive." He said, looking a little panicked.
I was immediately panged by a tinge of guilt and jumped in to try and calm
his nerves.

"No, no, not really. Besides, I'm an only child, my parents would consider
it a favor if you let them splurge on me and our room." I offered to his
disbelieving gaze.

"Really? No, I couldn't let them do that. I'd have to pay for half of the
stuff." He said willfully.

"Skip, seriously, my dad can afford it, it's really not a big deal." I hated
the words as soon as they left my lips, and I hated Skip's stunned reaction
even more. After a second he turned towards his bags on the bed and began to
open them, leaving my comment unaddressed. I didn't know what to say. I
hesitated there for a moment then I moved slowly towards him, extending an
arm towards his shoulder.

      "Listen Skip, I'm sorry. That was a really rude and unnecessary and
insensitive thing to say and I'm very sorry. I guess my privileged
upbringing has gone to my head a bit." I said softly, hopefully.

      Skip turned with a small and hesitant smile on his lips. "It's ok
Brae, I guess if that's all you know and are used to, I can't expect you to
know what to do with a poor country yocal like me."

His grin widened, setting my mind at ease and melting my heart. `God," I
thought, `I could really love this guy.' Although I'd only known him for a
quarter of an hour there was something about his presence that was already
warm and reassuring. College and swimming suddenly seemed a little less
daunting now that I knew I'd be sharing the experience with Skip. I sat down
on the edge of my bed and watched as Skip moved around his side of the room,
quickly and efficiently unpacking his duffle.

The morning sun reflected brilliantly off of his fair hair and the lean
muscles that rippled beneath his deep summer tan. I smiled to myself at the
thought of what Skip's tanline situation might be, amused at the possibility
he might have a red neck farmers tan. He caught me smirking and shot me a
devilish grin.

"Do I amuse you, Sir Davenport?" he queried, mockingly, a playful, almost
flirtacious, glint in his eyes.

"Oh, uh, no..." I stuttered, caught off guard once again. "I was just thinking
about something else..." `This guy is going to think I am functionally
retarded with a stutter' I moaned to myself, lamenting my dismal lack of
social poise and confidence in his presence.

Skip smiled forgivingly. "Well why don't you make yourself useful city boy
and come over here and help me unpack my things."

"Ok!" I yelped, despite myself, painfully over eager. Skip laughed and I
felt the humiliating warm tingle of blood rushing to my cheeks for the
umpteenth time that morning. `Ok, this has gone far enough. I'm a grown man
capable of expressing myself in an eloquent manner and this needs to stop.'
"Listen, Skip," I started as I moved over next to him.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I've been such a spaz this morning. You probably think I'm a
total nut job at this point, but I promise that I'm generally an OK guy,
capable of intelligent conversation. I'm just really nervous about this
whole college thing and I really just wanted to make a good impression with
you. I've never shared a room before so this is an entirely new experience
for me. And, yeah, hopefully you won't write me off as a lunatic just yet,
although this speech probably isn't helping... I'd just really like it if we
could be friends." My words trailed off and the relief I'd expected to feel
at laying my cards on the table didn't come, in fact, the sting of
humiliation crept upon me stronger than ever. I was ready to all but sprint
out of the room when Skip put a hand on my shoulder and sat me down on the
bed next to him.

"Brae," he said, flashing a comforting smile, "I am just as, if not more,
nervous than you are. I mean look at me. I'm a country farm boy, I've only
been out of my home state twice before, for swim meets. This is just about
the biggest thing I've ever done in my life, and on top of that I'm rooming
with Carrington's newest swimming star?"

"Oh , please." I groaned.

"Hey, I did a little snooping on you. I know you're one of the hot recruits
this year and that Carrington expects big things from you. I was sorta
convinced in coming here that I was going to be stuck in your shadow and
nobody was really going to notice me. And, I sort of expected you to be a
total asshole" he grinned.

"Hope I haven't disappointed!" I said sarcastically. Nudging him hard with
my shoulder.

"Not at all," he shot back. We erupted into a fit of laughter, and as his
shoulder leaned in to brace himself against me, everything felt perfect.

As our laughter subsided into a comfortable silence, Skip leaned back to
look at me and our eyes locked in a moment of exhilarating bliss and nerves
and confusion. I was captivated by this man and couldn't bear the thought of
breaking from his captivating gaze, and yet the more I grew to like him, the
more I became terrified of how he might react if he knew about the truth
about me. We held the stare a few moments longer when suddenly my phone went
off in my pocket. Actually, `erupted' would be the better term, as Skip and
I both bolted upright and then smiled at each other over our startled
reactions. I looked down at the screen on my phone. `Mom' flashed across the
LCD, with a photo of my mom from her 40th birthday, her elegant form bent
over a birthday cake, holding back her long blond hair, the reflection of
the candles glistening in her eyes.

"It's my parents, they're probably downstairs. Wanna come shopping with us?"


Skip smiled and shook his head, "Nah, I'm going to hang out here and unpack
for a bit. That way when you get back I'll be all done and we can hang out."

"Oh, that sounds great," I said, painfully conscious of the wide smile that
was plastering itself across my face. I flipped open the phone and heard the
warm and refined sound of my mother's voice on the other end. I promised her
that I'd be right down, told Skip I'd catch up with him later, and then
headed out of the dorm.

As I made my way down the hallway towards the stairwell, I couldn't shake
Skip's glowing image from my mind. Never had I found myself so completely
taken by anyone. There was something about Skip that made me immediately
feel safe. I'd always feared being used, exploited or even black mailed, and
that had kept me from ever pursuing a relationship or being truly intimate
with another man. But there was something different about Skip. He was so
genuine, with an almost childlike eagerness and sensitivity that made me
trust him instantly. Not to mention, he was beyond gorgeous: a perfect
physical specimen.

`Brae, stop getting ahead of yourself, you don't even know if he's gay!' I
said to myself while rounding a landing on the stairwell. `But there was
something there, when he looked at me, I could feel it.' I skipped down the
remainder of the stairs two at a time. `It may just be wishful thinking,
you're not thinking straight, shake it off Brae.' As I pushed my way out the
front door of the dorm, I was instantly blinded by the glare of the morning
sun. I raised an arm to shield my squinted eyes and gazed across the
courtyard, looking for my parents. I spotted the Lexus on the road across
the green and jogged over.

The black Lexus RX 400 had been purchased the day before upon arriving in
Carrington. It was meant to be my high school graduation and beginning
college present. While it was clearly an excessively grand gesture, I
accepted it as graciously as I could and took comfort in the fact that at
least at Carrington it shouldn't draw too much attention. I felt a pang of
guilt for a moment as I approached the car as I thought of Skip and his
situation. `I'll let him borrow it whenever he wants,' I told myself, `I
mean its not as though I was given any choice in the matter... other than the
color' I told myself as I reached for the rear door handle.

While I was the only child, I was also aware that that hadn't been the plan.
Although it had never been discussed, I could remember at least three
occasions growing up where my parents sat me down and told me to expect a
new sibling that had never materialized. Being young, I never really put the
pieces together at the time, but as I grew older and came to realize
everything that my parents must have gone through, I began to feel almost
obligated to let them spoil me to excess. Clearly they had desired more
outlets for their parental love and attention, and I couldn't help but feel
that they had been stuck with just me. That was why I hadn't been able to
tell them I was gay, I'd never been able to disappoint them, and I was sure
that they would find that announcement absolutely devastating.

As I yanked at the passenger door handle, the driver's door swung out and my
dad, in a pristine white polo, seersucker shorts, and Sperry topsiders
popped out.

"Why don't you drive Brae? It's your car!" he beamed, his flashing white
teeth contrasting against his deep tan and light brown hair. "Give your
mother a chance to coddle you for a little bit, she's nervous about you
having a car up here." He muttered at me as he passed by.

"Ok Dad, no problem." I said as he patted me on the shoulder and slipped
into the backseat. While I was already 18, I had only had my license a few
months and my only real driving experience had been mostly didactic in
nature, cruising around private roads in the Hamptons with my father.

I climbed into the front and leaned over to give my mother a kiss. She
looked as impeccable as my father in her white sundress. She was tall for a
woman at almost 5'11", and had a lithe, lean figure. My lips brushed her
smooth, pale skin and a stray strand of her long blond hair tickled by neck.
While long hair sometimes looked bizarre on adults, my mom's was thick and
silky, and complimented her youthful appearance, while she had just turned
40, she could easily have passed for her early 30s.

"How was your first night, sweetheart? Were the sheets ok? We could get you
lighter ones if they were too warm... and what about the mattress? W could get
you a new one... or I really think we should at least get you a mattress pad!
I don't want you to wreck your back. Oh, and has your roommate showed up
yet?" I smiled despite myself, and I felt my dad's strong hand reach up and
squeeze my shoulder. I navigated my mother's questions and worries for the
twenty minutes as we headed towards Target. My mom, ever curious, was
incredibly anxious to hear everything and anything about Skip.

"I mean I've only known him for like an hour, but I think he's really going
to be a great roommate. He's really, really nice. And, he's from a big
family so he's used to sharing a room and stuff."

"That's great. What event does he swim?" My dad chimed from the backseat.

"He swims distance. He's on full scholarship, so I'm guessing he's really
good."

"Oh how great," my mother gushed, "Are his parents nice?"

"I haven't met them," I answered, "Skip came out here on his own. His
parents didn't have the money to come out with him, plus Skip grew up on a
farm so I think it's hard for them to get away with there being so much to
do."

"Oh, wow. A farm?" my mom looked at me in wide eyed disbelief.

"Yeah, he doesn't even own a computer."

"How is he going to be able to do his schoolwork without a computer?" my mom
asked, concern painted across her face.

"He gets a laptop as part of his scholarship. Plus there are computers that
you can use in the library and all over campus."

"Obviously, we expect you to share your stuff with him if he ever needs
anything."

"Obviously mom, I'm not socially retarded."

"I know honey, I just wanted to be sure.  It's not as though you've ever
really had to share anything before." She said.

"If you're implying that I'm spoiled, you only have yourselves to blame." I
smiled jokingly at them as I pulled into the car park.

Spoil me they did. We stocked up on everything a college student could ever
conceivably need, and a lot of stuff I was sure I'd never use. In addition
to two full carts of bedding, towels, storage units, school supplies,
countless small appliances, and enough snack food to last my entire college
career, my parents loaded up a dolly with an air conditioning unit, the most
conspicuous flat screen TV they could find, a not-so-mini-fridge, the most
intimidating printer I'd ever encountered, and a deluxe office chair that my
mother insisted on since she'd decided that the one provider by Carrington
would "absolutely destroy" my back.

We rolled up to the check out counter like a caravan of gypsy travelers and
to the dirty looks of the other customers around us: it was clear we were
going to be monopolizing register 7 for the immediate future. The sales girl
was about my age, pretty with brown hair and a delicate porcelain face. Her
large blue eyes bulged as we approached her counter. She offered a hesitant,
intimidated smile before bravely starting on our items, my mortification
rising every time she was forced to maneuver over the counter and our piles
of stuff to scan the items that were too big for the belt. As the total
started rapidly approaching the cost of a semester's tuition, I excused
myself to head to the bathroom to escape the stares and shocked looks of the
other patrons.

I entered the bathroom and went directly over to the sinks. I ran some cold
water and splashed it over my face, the cool splash was both refreshing and
it somewhat alleviated my flushed complexion. I paused over the sink for a
moment. `They mean well. Really they do.' Nobody could ever fault my parents
for being anything but generous. I'd been offered a full scholarship to swim
at Carrington and my dad had waived it on the condition that it would go to
someone who wouldn't be able to attend otherwise, the significance of this
generosity had increased exponentially since meeting Skip. And while my
parents were certainly out of control out there, they weren't hurting
anyone, and their hearts were in the right place. I resolved to get over my
embarrassment and enjoy the rest of our time together. I took a moment to
compose myself in front of the mirror and then headed back to the register.


It took the three of us and two store employees to get the car all loaded
up, and I began to wonder how we were ever going to be able to get all of
this new stuff up to my room on the fifth floor. My dad insisted on driving
since the back window was almost entirely obstructed by stuff. I didn't even
have a real seat since we've been forced to fold down the back rows of seats
to fit everything in. My mother had been adamant that I should get a taxi
back to the dorm, but my father and I eventually convinced her that I could
squat safely enough in the back. She consented on the condition that she
could buffer me with the various pillows and bedding items she'd just
purchased, and so we headed back towards campus, me in a cocoon of down. We
discussed our plans for Thanksgiving and the possibility of meeting at our
Massachusetts ski house for a few weekends throughout the year. Despite our
planning, it still didn't quite register that I was about to be separated
from my parents for the first time ever, and while I was by no means
dependent, it was still going to be a huge adjustment.



* * *

While the dorm faced out onto a green, my parents were able to pull the car
up to a service entrance. We grabbed as many of the lighter bags as we could
possibly carry and made our way into the building. I felt a big like the
Michelin man, trying to squeeze through the doors to the elevator, yet
somehow we all managed to cram ourselves in. I led the way to my room and
gave the door a feeble knock with the toe of my shoe, hoping that Skip was
still inside and I could spare myself the effort of putting down everything
I was carrying to dig my key out of the pocket. I smiled despite myself when
I heard his cheerful, "Coming!" from inside.

Skip started as he opened the door and I (for all intensive purposes)
exploded into the room with my bags and bags of stuff. My parents were right
behind me with just as heavy a load. Skip's eyes looked ready to fall out of
his head, as he feebly tried to assist my mother with her bags, then scooted
out of the way when he realized he wasn't actually being of much assistance.
As soon as everyone had unloaded and put everything down, I went about
introducing my parents to Skip.

I had thought that Skip might be a little intimidated, especially
considering the spectacle we had just made, but he was both confident and
charming, and my parents responded to his warmth immediately. After all the
basic civilities had been exchanged my father enlisted his aid.

"Skip, we'd really love to get to know you better, so if you're available
we'd love to take you out to dinner tonight, but in the mean time I'm parked
in a loading zone, so if we could get your help with unloading the car we'd
be really grateful."

"Oh yeah of course," he replied, "I can't believe that there's still more
stuff!"

"Oh, this isn't the half of it," I groaned, "you don't know what you've just
gotten yourself into."

Skip laughed and the four of us headed down to the car, chatting idly about
Skip's life on the farm as we walked.

"Wow, great car!" Skip exclaimed as we exited the building.

"Thanks, you can borrow it whenever." I said.

"Wait... this car is *yours*?!" Skip looked dumbstruck.

"It was Braeden's graduation present. We just picked it up yesterday" my
mother said, as non-chalantly as if she were talking about a new outfit.

"We'll get your name added to the insurance policy Skip, so you can drive it
whenever you like" my Dad smiled.

"Gosh, thanks. You really don't have to do that."

"It's no big deal, Skip. Besides you never know when it'll come in handy." I
said, as Skip suddenly grabbed my arm and froze. We'd just gotten close
enough for him to see everything that was crammed into the back of the car.
His mouth hung open, after a few moments he mustered the presence of mind to
speak.

"All this is for our room?!"

"Yeah, just the essentials" I said sarcastically, throwing an arm around
Skip's shoulder and steering him towards the car, and shooting my parents an
`I told you so' look.

It took three trips, and over an hour before we finally got everything up to
the room. Skip was bowled over by everything, especially the ridiculously
large flat screen. My dad didn't seem to understand that our room wasn't
really large enough to properly enjoy a 46" screen. While my dad mounted the
television on the wall and installed the air conditioner in the window, my
mom assembled the many layers of padding that now constituted my bed and
hung the black out curtains that (in a moment of guilt for sticking Skip
with the sunny side of the room) I'd picked out. Skip helped me set up the
wireless router and printer my parents has picked out, and put together some
of the storage and shelving units we'd picked up.

We worked steadily for about an hour, then my parents excused themselves to
freshen up for dinner. They promised to pick us back up in two hours then
headed out on their way. Skip and I collapsed on our beds, utterly
exhausted.

"Ughhh, I never want to move again." I groaned.

"I know," Skip chortled, "I'd wanted to check out the pool today, maybe get
in a workout, but that sure ain't gunna happen now. I am dead to the world."

"Thank god for air conditioning," I said brushing off the beads of sweat
that had clustered on the bridge of my nose and forehead, with the back of
my forearm. "Ughh" I moaned melodramatically as I dragged myself off the bed
and across the room to turn on the A.C. unit.

"I've never had an air conditioner before," said Skip as he pulled himself
up into a sitting position on his bed.

"Really?!" I exclaimed as I fidgeted with the series of knobs on the device,
trying to adjust the settings to a comfortable temperature.

"Yup." I heard Skip reply behind me. "Shit gets pretty hot in Kentucky, but
we never had it growin' up. Nobody really did."

"God I think I would die without it," I said turning. I was surprised to see
Skip shirtless, and stripping off his shorts on his bed. "Ohh." I yelped,
trying to avert my eyes, yet unable to keep myself from drinking in the site
of this shirtless god.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle ya, I'm going to take a nap for an hour,
before I get ready for dinner." Skip said lazily, stretching out his
muscular arms. His body was lean but unbelievably muscular, without an ounce
of fat. His muscles rippled beneath the dark, golden tan of his skin,
shimmering with perspiration.

"That sounds like a great idea, I'm beat." I said, wondering how I could
successfully disguise my sudden state of arousal. "Uhh, I'm just going to go
to the bathroom first real quick." I muttered.

"'Kay" Skip smiled, as sprawled out on his bed, the outline of his flaccid
cock just barely visible under his white boxer briefs. It was too much, I
scurried into the bathroom to regain my composure. I shut myself in the
bathroom and turned on the faucet, hoping that the stream of water would
drown the noise as I paced the small space.

`God, what a body, he's fucking perfect,' I thought as I found myself absent
mindedly squeezing my throbbing erection. I contemplated whipping it out and
taking care of it, I certainly had the inspiration to get a load off easily
enough, as images of positions I'd one day like to find myself in with Skip,
flashed through my mind. `No, not now, he might hear you. Pull yourself
together, you can take care of this later.'

I splashed some water on my face, took a few moments to compose myself. I
began to undress, and decided to tuck my erection into the elastic of my
boxers, hoping that would do the job in disguising them. I took a deep
breath and then headed back into our room. Skip was now sprawled on his
stomach, already unconscious. His steady breathing resonated across the
room, it was a soothing sound and it soon lulled me off into a deep,
dreamless, sleep.



* * *

The piercing shriek of Skip's alarm jolted me back to consciousness. I
looked around, disoriented, trying to get my bearings. It took me a second
to register that I was in my dorm room, as the room still seemed foreign and
new. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to dispel the sleep from my
eyes. Coming out of my sleepy haze, a blur of movement caught my attention
on Skip's side of the room. I looked over, and nearly jumped out of my skin
at the sight of Skip peeling down his underwear. My heart dropped into my
stomach and my cock instantly spring hard at the site of the firm, round,
globes of Skip's snow white ass, beautifully contrasted against his deep
golden tan. I sputtered audibly and Skip jumped upright, grabbing a towel
off the bed and pulling it to his crotch before turning to flash me a
sheepish smile.

"Sorry! Did my alarm wake'ya?" he looked at me apologetically.

"Nah, it's fine. I had to get up anyways. Are you going to take a shower?" I
asked, trying to keep my eyes fixed on Skip's face, and look anywhere but at
his lean, ripped, muscular frame and the towel barely covering his groin.

"Yeah. Do you mind? Were you going to shower?" he asked awkwardly.

"No, go ahead. I like to shower before bed. There's a waterproof radio in
there, courtesy of my over zealous parents. Feel free to give it a test
run."

"Oh, cool." He said as he turned towards the bathroom, once again his
exposing his taught, firm, muscular ass as he pattered off to the bathroom.
I watched, mesmerized, my cock painfully hard. As Skip disappeared into the
bathroom, I grabbed my organ and gave it a squeeze.

`Jesus, he's so fucking hot.' I thought to myself, salivating. I gave my
dick another squeeze. `That was quite the show he put on for me just there.'
Thoughts raced through my head. `Could he be...? Was he trying to...? Was that
meant to be a sign...?" I lost myself in thoughts about Skip and whether he
might or might not be gay. `Could he have been trying to send me a sign?
Ugh, I need to stop. I don't even know if he's gay. And even if he is, would
he be interested in me? He's so gorgeous.' I heard the shower shut off in
the bathroom and jumped up to pull myself together before Skip came out of
the bathroom.

I pulled a light blue polo and nice jeans out of the dresser and pulled them
on, liking the way that the snug jeans hugged my ass. I stepped in front of
the mirror to fix my hair, and was almost immediately rewarded with the
reflection of Skip stepping out of the bathroom, towel tied around his
waist, sitting snuggly beneath his rippling 8-pack and the firm "V" of his
lower abdominals. I licked my lips, and ran my fingers through my hair, and
focused on Skip's reflection as he made his way over to his dresser.

"Have a good shower?" I asked, without turning around, still fixated on his
glorious reflection. "How was the water pressu-" I nearly choked, my jaw
dropped open, as Skip dropped his towel in front of his dresser, giving me
another glorious reflection of his ample ass. There was still a shiny sheen
of water on his body, water droplets ran down the curve of his lower back
and disappeared between his beautiful ass cheeks. `God, I'd love to get my
tongue in there' I thought, rapt at his reflection.

Skip pulled open a few of his drawers and rifled through them for a second
before turning towards me, bringing his organ into view for the first time.
My heart nearly stopped for a moment, my eyes practically bulged out of my
head, as his cock swung, yes, literally swung into view. He stood there with
his hands on his hips, his beautiful cut cock hanging a soft six inches,
looking expectantly at me. It took me a second to realize that he was
speaking to me.

"Uh... sorry. What?" I managed to stutter, my eyes still glued to his
reflection in my mirror. I managed to run my hands through my hair so I at
least looked occupied. But truly, I could look away from his beautiful
organ, it contrasted beautifully with his dark brown thighs, and culminated
in a large pink head.

"What should I wear?" he repeated.

"What?"

"To dinner. What should I wear?" he asked with a worried expression spread
across his face.

"Oh, whatever you want. It's going to be a casual dinner. You're fine in
jeans and a polo" I gulped.

A worried look spread across his face. He looked around hopelessly then
turned back his dresser. `Shit, I wonder if he has anything appropriate to
wear. I wonder if he'd be insulted if I offered to let him borrow something
of mine...'

"Skip?" I started, taking a second to adjust my aching boner, which was
threatening to erupt out of the waistband of my jeans. "Do you want to
borrow something of mine?" I turned around as he pulled on a pair of boxers.
I took a breath of relief, and sat down on my bed hoping it would help hide
my excited condition. "You're welcome to whatever you want..." I continued.

"Ohh, thanks." He replied, as he pulled a navy polo out of his drawer and
holding it up for inspection. "Will this do though?" He gave me an eager
look.

"Yeah!" I replied enthusiastically, "We'll practically be dressed like
twins." We both laughed. Skip pulled himself together quickly, and I watched
doing my very best not to openly salivate. My phone suddenly went off,
announcing my parents arrival.

"You ready?" I asked.

"Yup."

"Ok, let's get going then." I said, leading him out of the room.



* * *

Dinner went swimmingly. My parents had picked out a casual `mom and pop'
type Italian restaurant that had food to dream about without the stuffy and
pretentious aura that one might expect. In a way it perfectly personified my
parents: paragons of quality and taste without the intimidating or superior
personas that many members of their set cultivated. Conversation flowed
easily and continuously as my parents responded wonderfully to Skip's warm
and open personality. Inevitably, the conversation swung around to the
impending swim season. Both my parents, in their dedication to supporting me
in whatever I pursued, and I suppose after years of sitting through endless
hours of swim meets, were extremely fluent in all things swimming.

"So, when do you boys get in the pool?" My dad asked, lightly swirling his
glass of white wine. "This is good" he said to my mother. She nodded her
approval, a slight smile on her lips.

Skip spoke up eagerly. "Well we have our first meeting with the coaches
tomorrow, I think that's just for us freshmen. An'then we start practicing
with the rest of the team on Tuesday."

"How many freshmen recruits do they have this year? Have you boys met any of
them yet?" my mom asked.

"There's supposed to be 12 of us this year." I answered.

"But we may get some walk-ons the first week." Skip piped in.

"Yeah, that's possible I guess. I haven't met anyone else besides Skip yet.
Have you?" I asked looking over at Skip.

"Nah, our hall seems totally deserted. I haven't seen anyone yet." He
smiled.

"Are you not all placed in the same hall then?" My dad asked.

"I dunno." I said. Skip and I gave each other puzzled looks.

"Maybe they try to separate you so that you'll intermingle more with other
students. As it is, you're going to be spending so much time together in the
pool..." my mom's articulate voice trailed off.

"Dunno, that makes sense I guess. Hadn't really thought about it." Skip
replied thoughtfully.

"You'd think that they'd put them with non-athlete roommates then. Or at
least non-swimmers." My dad chipped in, "No offense to you Skip, we like you
a lot. We're just tossing out hypotheticals here."

"Well regardless, I can't wait until there is some more activity on our
floor. Frankly, I think it could get real creepy real fast if people don't
show up soon" I laughed, everyone else joining in.

"So any big hot shots we should be watching out for at meets this year?" my
dad asked.

"Aside from your son?" Skip asked with a huge grin on his face.

"Shut up" I blushed, giving him a soft air punch to his shoulder. I knew I
was going to come under heavy scrutiny the next day at the team meeting as
one of the hottest recruits and I was already dreading it.

"Well, its true, but whatever," continued Skip, "There's Drake Brewer. He's
a freestyle sprinter, and one of the best in the country."

"He's also a huge asshole, I met him at trials last year, and really am not
looking forward to having to deal with him this year." I said, the image of
his burly obnoxious figure still burned into my mind from the summer before.


"Language Braeden." My mother said quietly.

"Sorry mom," I smiled sheepishly, "he's a great swimmer, but one of the
least pleasant people I've ever met." My parents were oddly sensitive to
profanity. If I stubbed my toe on a desk I was free to swear up a storm, but
as soon as my profanity had a specific target, they took issue with it. I
looked over at Skip, and smiled an embarrassed smirk at having been
chastised in front of him. He shot me back a wide grin and barreled on with
his highlights of our freshmen roster.

"Then there's also this French kid, Tate Vallette, he's a butterfly
specialist mostly, he swam in the Olympics last year and made semi finals.
Apparently he's a pretty big deal over there." Skip continued.

"Oh a French boy?" My mom perked up immediately, "Brae, your French is so
rusty, this could be a great opportunity for you to work on it."

I barely had time to groan a response when Skip piped up, "Actually I met
him last Spring at a regionals meet. I think he was trying to let all the
recruiters know he was planning to go to school in the States. He was really
quiet. Seemed kinda full of himself."

"Oh well, if he's French, maybe he's just a bit nervous about being in
America" suggested my dad.

"Maybe, but he was born here. His parents are both American. I dunno, he
just sorta rubbed me all wrong, you know?" Skip asked almost apologetically.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." I said, trying to sound reaffirming.

"Well you're certainly entitled to your own opinion dear..." my mother said
quickly, obviously anxious to move conversation along to another subject. My
father followed her lead.

"So anybody else to watch Skip?"

"Well Brae, the Brewer kid, and Vallette are definitely the hot shots
heading into this year..." I groaned and he flashed me a look, "But you never
know I guess."

"What about you son, don't you think you're being a little bit modest?" My
dad smiled back at him, trying to goad him into speaking about himself.

Skip grinned wide. "Well I'm just happy to be here mostly. I dunno, I'm
solid I guess, nothing to write hope about. Hoping to make a few `B cuts'
this year if all goes well." He gave a modest shrug.

"Well that's great Skip. I'm sure you're going to have a great year." My mom
said enthusiastically.

"Let's hope! Gotta earn my keep!" he smiled impishly.

The rest of the evening went well, my parents all but fawned over Skip, and
the more time I got to spend with him, the more remarkable I found him to
be. We headed straight back to the dorm after dinner since my parents had a
7am flight the next morning, and I had to be up at 5am to take them to the
airport. I was a little annoyed that I was going to have to get up so early
on the last day before we started morning practices, but my dad wanted to
try and salvage at least a half day in the office.

"I think I'm going to take a long shower and then get to bed ASAP, since I
have to be up so early tomorrow morning." I said to Skip as we got back to
our room.

"Ok, I guess I'll go to bed than too."

"Oh, you don't have to," I quickly blurted, worried that he's interpreted my
plan as some sort of demand that he too should go to bed. I grabbed an
eye-mask off of my bedside, "My mom, thought of everything," I said, holding
the silky black mask up for his inspection, "you can stay up as late as you
want, it won't bother me." I smiled at him. "In fact..." I continued, reaching
into one of massive shopping bags on the floor that I'd yet to sort through,
and digging around until I felt a second silky mask, "my mom picked one up
for you as well." I said, tossing him his own mask.

Skip reached over and caught it adeptly. He looked down at the navy blue
mask for a moment, fingering the cool, silky material before looking up at
me, with an achingly sincere look on his face. "Your parents are so nice."
He sounded like he was choking up. "Really they are just the nicest people."

I felt a little uncomfortable for a moment, and yet touched by his
unexpected outpouring of emotion. Skip sat down on his bed, his head sunken,
his rusty blond bangs obscuring his face. "I mean they have gone so out of
their way to make me feel welcome and to be thoughtful," he continued,
looking up at me, "I mean look at everything they got for this room. My
parents couldn't even be bothered to bring me up here." He held up the night
mask, "*This* is more than my parents did for me."

Skip looked as though he was about to burst into tears. I crossed the room
and sat on the bed next to him. I hesitated for a moment, uncertain, then I
gently put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into me. "Skip, I'm
sure they wanted to bring you out here. Like you said before, they're really
busy with the farm and your brothers and sisters and stuff. I'm sure they'd
be here if they could. And as far as all this stuff goes," I said,
indicating to the assortment of fancy new objects all around us, "it's just
stuff, it doesn't prove anything, or mean that my parents are any better or
more loving than yours..." I said gently, trying to comfort him.

I felt him inhale deeply before he started talking softly again. "They could
have come if they'd really wanted to. They just couldn't wait to get rid of
me." Skip's fists were clenched so tight they were white. I gently squeezed
his shoulder, trying to let him know that I was there for him.

"What do you mean they want to get rid of you?" I gently probed. He jumped
up off the bed, disengaging from me.

"Never mind. Forget I said anything." He said with his back to me. "I'm
going to go brush my teeth before you shower, if that's alright. I'm tired
and I wanna be well rested for tomorrow."

"Ok." I said soothingly, not wanting to press the issue further. As Skip
trudged off to the bathroom, thoughts started racing through my mind as I
set my alarm for the next morning and got myself ready to shower.

`What did he mean his parents couldn't wait to get rid of him? What reason
could they possibly have? Skip is just about the nicest guy ever! Geez, I
never would have thought that under that happy-go-lucky demeanor he was
actually hiding something like this...' And, inevitably my mind wandered over
to whether or not Skip's estrangement mind have something to do with his
sexuality. Obviously I knew that it was totally wishful thinking on my part,
and yet I couldn't shake the suspicion that Skip might be gay.

Skip practically bounced out of the bathroom, his usual chipper demeanor
restored, as he danced around the room.

"I'm so excited for tomorrow! I just wanna get going you know?" He asked,
looking as though he was struggling to contain this sudden burst of hyper
energy. He literally leapt into his bed and burrowed his face into his
pillows. I watched, perplexed, was this really the same guy who looked ready
to have an emotional break down just a few minutes ago?

Skip and I said our goodnights and I went into the bathroom to take my
shower. I savored the feeling of the stream of hot water against my back,
releasing the tension in my back muscles. I hadn't realized just how
exhausted or sore I was, all I wanted was to collapse into bed. I quickly
finished my shower, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed, anxious for what
the next day had in store.



* * *

Thanks guys! Expect the next chapter in a few days.



©2009 keiren.connors@gmail.com