Date: Mon, 26 Dec 2005 23:37:40 -0800 (PST)
From: Lusty <lustyville@yahoo.com>
Subject: Lucas and Lionel-Part 3. Not a Word

     The past week has been tolerable. Lionel and I have
talked a lot but the incident is now the elephant in the
room. We don't talk about it, but I think we both need it
this way. I'm scared that rubbing his nose in to who I am
will only push him away and that is the last thing I want to
do. I've talked to my mother a few times since Lionel and I
made up and she's still bitter because I didn't tell her
what was going on right away. Sometimes she can be really
needy. She's so afraid of being a bad mother, or having me
lose touch with her, that she fails to distinguish between
my personal business and her motherly rights. I don't
understand why she's so desperate to be needed. I know my
father needs her enough for the both of us.
     I have so much work to do this week. I have a paper due
in two of my classes, I just started a work study job, and
as if that isn't enough, I workout in the morning with
Lionel. We usually go for a morning run and then hit the gym
to lift a few weights. I tend to play around in the weight
room, but Lionel is always serious and makes sure he gets a
good workout. I keep telling Lionel that we don't need to
workout before the first practice. We never did that in high
school. Back then, we played pick up games of basketball
year round so we were always ready to go. College is
different though. I don't hang out with same type of crowd.
Lionel, however, is surrounded by basketball types and seems
to always be talking about some pickup game he played. It's
no longer us, it's just Lionel, just Lucas. We've both made
adjustments to college, I just wish we were making them
together.
  I have talked to Michael everyday this week. He has been
such a good friend to me and his advice has been good as
well. I think I would have driven myself crazy by now if he
wasn't around to keep me sane. I want to tell him he's my
best friend, but I don't want to hurt his feelings. Calling
him my best friend is just as good as castrating him. At
least that's how he will see it. He has issues of his own to
work through, mostly with friendships gone awry. Things and
people were so much simpler in high school. But I wouldn't
go back there to save my life.

     Lionel in to the room wearing only a towel and my
attention is immediately focused on the here and now. I try
not to stare at him. I pretend to read my book, but I keep
glancing up as he walks between his bed and his closet. He's
looking for something to wear and depressing me at the same
time. Watching him walk back and forth makes me feel sad
because I know I will never have him the way I want him. I
am in the process of studying his back with my eyes and
appreciating the nice contrast between the white towel and
his chocolate skin. His butt looks perfect in his towel. I
just want to walk over and grab his ass, but I know that is
the worse thing I can do. He moves to turn around and I
stare back at the book.

     "Yo Lucas." I look up at him with his upper body
exposed. I have to remind myself to keep looking up. I find
his eyes and try to keep my gaze above his neck. He hadn't
pranced around half naked since the incident, and now he is
basically parading his body for me to see. He had to know he
was eye candy. The thought of how badly I want him, reminds
me that I am sad. I look away from Lionel and glance towards
the door. I hope he hasn't noticed the look in my eyes.
"Lucas!" I look up at him without thinking. He notices the
and I can see the question developing in his head. "What's
wrong man?"

     "Nothing." My voice is a little shaky.

     "You sure?"

     "Yeah, man. This book just reminded me of something." I
knew it was a bad lie the second the words left my lips.

     "Really? Is math that bad?" He gives a half laugh.

     Shit. I'm an idiot. I'm sitting here with my nose
buried in a math book talking about the book reminded me of
something. "I was just thinking that I might actually fail
Calculus II. I don't know what possessed me to sign up for
it." I feel a tear drop and I donn't know what to say, so I
babble some more. "If I fail, I won't be on the basketball
team, and I'd rather die." I know that wasn't true. My other
grades would easily cover up an F, plus I was doing okay in
math. I would at least get a B. I was really having a
meltdown. Lionel and I hadn't talked about my being gay
since he came back. He didn't even try to delve in to why I
was saying Lionel when the guy's name was Michael. He
dropped the discussion and that was it, and I let him drop
it. Now I was stuck wondering what he thought of me, and
constantly reminding myself that there was no hope for us. I
was talking about math, but my tears were for him, for us.

     He came over to me and pulled me in to a hug. I dropped
the book and hugged him back. My nose was crushed against
his chest and the tears began to fall even faster. "Relax
man, you won't fail math, and even if you do, you'll still
be on the team." His voice sounded fatherly as he tried to
soothe me. I wasn't thinking about his voice though. I was
distracted by the feel of his bare flesh under my hands. I
rubbed my hands up and down his back a few times before I
stopped myself. I turned my face to the side so that my ear
was now pressed firmly against his chest. I could hear his
heart beat, but all I was thinking about was how good he
smelled. I wanted to stick out my tongue and lick his
beautiful skin, but I would never do that.

     "I can't do this," I said. "I've made a mess of
everything."

     "Just relax. Everything will be okay." I wanted to yell
at him. I wanted to tell him that nothing would ever be okay
again. I wanted to tell him that he's not the one secretly
in love with his roommate. There were so many things I
wanted to say, but only my sniffles could be heard. "Come on
man. Stop that! You can get a tutor and everything will be
fine." He lifted one of his hands and rubbed it through my
hair. "Come on. Get a grip." `I love you,' I thought, `How's
that for a grip?' Suddenly, I heard Lionel speaking in a
playful and almost devilish voice, "I know what will make
you stop crying." He started tickling me and I could not
help but laugh. I crumpled down on my bed and tried to use
my arms to protect myself, but his assault was relentless. I
didn't stop laughing until his fingers stopped attacking my
body. I felt much better, and not just because Lionel was
touching me and playing with me, but because I finally had a
good cry. My mother always told me nothing lifts the spirits
from the dumps like a good cry. Each tear is a small piece
of the pain falling away. Eventually so many pieces fall
away that the pain hurts a little less, and then one day, so
many pieces have fallen that there are no more pieces left
for that pain. I wondered when I would finally be all cried
out over Lionel.

     I realized that I had been sitting there for a few
seconds, so I looked up and unexpectedly made eye contact
with Lionel. The look in his eyes told me he was waiting for
me to say something. I wiped my tear-stained face on my
shirt. "Sorry about that. I guess I was having a gay
moment." I wanted to shoot myself the second the sentence
was floated out in to the air for him to hear. Why was I
putting my foot in my mouth so many times today?

     To my surprise, he smiled and said, "Yeah, I guess you
were." He walked back to his bed and picked up two jerseys.
He turned around and held them up for me to see. "Now back
to my original question, which one should I wear tonight?"

     I wanted to say, `Gee thanks for caring. I have an
emotional meltdown and you ask me which shirt you should
wear.' But all I said was, "The white one, it looks nice
with your complexion." I grabbed my dick through my shorts
as I said it, and gave it a squeeze. I was hoping to relieve
some tension between us. This was something I would have
done without question 2 weeks ago, but here I was, thinking
about it.

     Lionel's smile got wider. "Fuck you!" That was just the

response I was looking for. He reached to grab his package

through the towel to return the gesture, but his towel fell

down instead. His gorgeous body was a flash of brown as he

bent down quickly to pick up the towel and put it back

around his waist. I wish I could have seen something, but

maybe next time.

     "So where are you off to this evening?"

     "Hot date."

     "Oh. Do I know her?"

     "Probably not."

     "Oh." I picked up my math book and tried to find the
next lesson. I wanted to appear busy so that when the
awkward pause occurred I would have an excuse. Just as I
suspected, the pause stretched out for minutes. Lionel put
on his clothes and I sat on my bed pretending to work, but
really stealing glances at him. The silence wasn't broken
until 20 minutes later when he said goodbye.


     I was left in my room, alone as usual, with nothing but
time to think. I call Michael and tell him about my
meltdown. He tries to tell me its okay, but we both know it
isn't. After a few minutes of talking, I decide to go over
to his place. I pack up a few things and leave a note for
Lionel telling him that I'll be gone for the night.


     I get to Michael's house and a few of our friends are
over there. We all sit down and talk about the mess I'm in.
Everyone has an opinion: don't mess with your roommate;
leave friends alone; everyone is fair game; if you really
love him, you should go after him; you need to have the talk
with him. I am happy when they all leave. I just want to be
alone with Michael. We take off our clothes and cuddle in
his bed. We haven't had sex since the incident and I'm
starting to think we'll never have sex again. He doesn't
bring it up and whenever I try to get a conversation going
about it, he always says I'm not ready. He's right, though.
I don't really want to have sex with him, I want to have sex
with Lionel. It's always been Lionel, and it wasn't fair to
Michael to pretend like he was Lionel. Michael says I didn't
use him because he enjoyed being with me, but we both know
that I did use him. Until I can get my head straight about
Lionel, I'm not going to mess with any guys. Well, I'm going
to try not to mess with any guys. Michael has given me all
the comfort and companionship I could ever ask for from a
friend. We fall asleep with me snuggled up in his arms.


     I open my eyes in the middle of the night and I am not
sure what woke me up. I feel a finger poke my arm. "Wake up
Lucas and get your damn phone!"

     I am only faintly aware of a ringing sound, "Huh? It'll
stop in a minute." I sluggishly roll over trying to go back
to sleep, but I feel the same poking sensation on my arm.
"What?" I growl at Michael.

  "It must be important. It's been ringing for at least ten
minutes. Whoever it is keeps hanging up and calling back."

     "Okay, okay. I'll get it." My eyes are only partly open
when I roll out of the bed and try to find my phone in the
dark. There appears to be a little bit of light coming from
my pants pocket so I bend down and pick up the phone. I look
at my caller id, but there is no name there. I pick up the
phone and my voice cracks as I say hello.

     "You're with him, aren't you?" The voice sounds
familiar, but it is somehow different. The voice is hostile,
sad, and drunk all at the same time. My eyes shoot open and
I am fully alert. "Of course you would be. What the hell am
I thinking? I'm in bad shape. I need you, and you know we
need to talk, but I don't want to talk, I'm scared to talk
about it. Something's wrong with me. Will you come get me?"
The words were slurred but I think I understood most of them
correctly.

     "Where are you at?"

  "I'm in our room. Where are you? No don't tell me." I can
hear that something is wrong with him. This intense feeling
of needing to be there for him takes over. I jump in my
clothes. I give Michael the concise version, omitting the
fact that something was definitely wrong because Lionel
doesn't usually drink enough to get drunk. Michael offers to
drive me, but I decide to go by myself. I have to face this
alone.


c Lustyville 2005
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