Date: Sun, 15 May 2011 20:06:03 -0400
From: anyta sunday <anytasunday@googlemail.com>
Subject: Shane and Trey_Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: Story characters belong to the author, any resemblances to real
people are entirely coincidental.

Content Advisory: Adult situations, language, sexual references

Copyright, 2010, Anyta Sunday


I hope you enjoy it. Please comment to: anytasunday@gmail.com


This story will continue to be posted on Nifty. It is COMPLETED, however,
and can be found also at
http://www.gayauthors.org/story/anytasunday/shaneandtrey

Also, St-st-stuffed (following Karl and Paul from this story is just
completed and can be found at
http://www.gayauthors.org/story/anytasunday/st-st-stuffed )

___________________________________________________________________________

Chapter Thirteen


I clapped the phone shut, Dad's first words still ringing in my ears. How's
my son? Living up Saturday night, drunk and partying? And then his
laugh. Raucous. Like a freaking bad omen. I shivered--couldn't help it, and
sat on the end of my bed where I'd wandered during the two minutes and
twenty-nine seconds we'd spoken.


Trey stared at me, brows furrowed together, his mouth a straight line. Was
he waiting for me to say something? And what? Yeah, that was my dad, we
don't get on, but you probably heard that in my tone, anyway, let's not
talk about it. I reached over and slammed the cell on my bedside
table. Stupid phone. Stupid me for not having looked at the caller
ID. Damn, what a way to ruin the mood.


Trey sighed and propped himself on one elbow on his side. "You can't choose
'em. Eh?"


I mirrored his sigh, but just the way he'd said that--that touch of humor
to lighten things up--it was like he knew exactly how to calm me down. The
corner of my lips twitched. "If only."


His eyes softened before his lips corresponded in a smile. "But you know
who you can choose." He beckoned me over. (Which was hardly necessary, as
soon as the words had slipped from his tongue, I was on my way).


Like I'd wanted to do for soooo long, I pounced onto the mass of pillows
next to Trey. He looked startled a moment before cracking up. "Fuck, for a
second I thought you were doing some type of wrestling move."


I grinned. "I was, but to the pillows. Be pretty stupid of me to do it to
you. I may not be great at math, but I know my chances at survival."


That had him laughing louder. How wonderful it was to hear: boisterous,
unrestrained, hearty. Quite fulfilling--quite? No, more than that,
incredibly. And just like that Dad drowned from my mind. Everything, except
for Trey simply vanished. Didn't matter.


Lightly, I touched his chest and felt his laugh as it bubbled underneath my
hand. It spread through me, highly infectious, until I was laughing too. We
didn't stop, even when we'd forgotten what was funny and stomach muscles
hurt and limbs convulsed. It just felt so good. Every bout seemed to
reflect our excitement and nervousness, and cracked through any awkwardness
we had being together.


So. Fucking. Fine.


Only when someone banged on the wall next to us, did we try--yes, emphasis
on try--to calm down. It took us a bit, and we used the pillows to quell
the sounds. By the time the last chuckles left us, we were drained of
energy.


Trey pulled at the blankets until he'd ripped them from under us. "Get
those jeans off, babe. I wanna sleep, but I want you right where you are."


***


I woke up early the next morning. Well, early for a Sunday. (It was
seven). I stretched, carefully moving so as not to wake Trey. Almost the
entire night he'd spooned me--a cacoon of warmth. Until a half an hour
before, when he'd mumbled something and switched sides. Maybe the loss was
what had woken me.


I stared at a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, and couldn't help but
think sticky. Sticky in a good sense--like being entangled in Trey's arms
and not wanting the chance to escape, like being so high on thoughts I
couldn't make beginning or ends of them, and--yeah--sticky like how I felt
after thinking of him and jacking off.


Then there was the other sticky--I had to tell June, and I didn't want to
hurt her.


Lifting the corner of the blanket, I shimmied out of bed, and crept out of
the room to the bathroom. After I'd relieved myself and began to head back,
a sudden thought halted me. Today was Sunday. No classes. No plans. Just a
whole day, me and Trey. What would we do? Should we plan something
together? Or should I surprise him somehow? Was this like the first
official date? What were we meant to do together? And shit, whatever it
was, let it start now!


I paced the hall a few times, coming up with a `to do' list. It might not
have been necessary to have the day planned out. But it sure made me feel
less nervous knowing what would happen next.


Inside the room, Trey sat in his bed, a bit put-out, if I read his
expression correctly.


"You alright?" I asked.


Trey swept a hand across the side of the bed I'd slept in. "It's not the
way I wanted to wake up. I was sort of hoping for a repeat of yesterday."
He cocked his head. "That was fun."


"Well," I said, pulling out some running shorts and a t-shirt. "I've got
plenty of other fun things we could do. But first, get outta bed and get
ready to go for a run."


"Ohhh, that does sound good, especially the part where we shower together
after."


I threw the t-shirt I was about to put on at him. "Like to see you handle
that temptation. `cause remember, no touching." Yet. Not until after I
spoke with June. Tomorrow.


"So long as we can make out, I'll be fine."


Ha-ha, yeah right. After the run, we attempted to shower together, but
twenty seconds in, it was obvious the plan was flawed. Like
seriously. "Okay, Shane, you win." With a tight jaw and tight something
else, he moved into the next cubicle.


Finally I got out of the shower (I was warm-water hog, given the chance,
I'd stay in one until I was wrinkly.) With towels wrapped around our waists
we headed back to the room, me walking slightly behind Trey. I mean, help
the view was hot.


Trey--on purpose, I was positive--stopped suddenly. I banged into him. The
impact pleasant, the tease agonizing, but--ahhhh--my towel was
slipping. And in the middle of the freaking hall, thank God most people
still slept at this hour. Trey chuckled as I fumbled for a grip.


Once inside our room, I ripped it off completely, and whipped Trey's
way-too-hot-to-be-real-ass.


"Oh, so that's your form of punishment? I just might have to be naughty
more often!"


Naughty? Too cute! We both dressed quickly, grinning something stupid. I
loved it. Once we were done, I grabbed my car keys and tugged Trey out the
door.


We drove for about ten minutes, before arriving at an abandoned warehouse
parking lot. Trey had tried to get me to tell him where we were going,
but--ha!--this was my surprise. I stopped the car in the middle of the huge
concrete expanse, got out and opened Trey's door. His face was hilarious, a
combination of what the fuck are we doing here? and is it gonna be kinky?


I shook my head, biting back a laugh. "Get out." He did, and I jailed
him--as much as I could (obviously he could get away)--one arm either side
clutching the car roof. Then on the tip of my toes I leaned into him until
he gasped. A hairs breadth of kissing him, I ran a tongue over my bottom
lip, ever-so-slightly touching his at the same time.


I reached into my pocket jammed between us, knowing what the pressure was
doing to him, and loving it.


"Oh, fuck me," he groaned.


"Not today." I withdrew the keys, and pressed them into his chest. "First
date--driving lesson."


Once we were both in the car I explained--although theoretically he
knew--the mechanics of a stick. Easy on the clutch, slow release, light
pressure on the gas. He stalled the first couple of tries at
starting. "Wish you had an automatic about now," Trey muttered, trying (and
succeeding) again.


"Yeah, well, when I bought my car, Dad only chipped in on the condition I
got a manual. Said if I can drive this, I can drive anything."


Trey, nervous to look from the barren lot we were crawling across, glanced
in my direction. "Did he teach you?"


"Yup, but don't worry. I'm not going to use his methods."


I cringed, remembering...What? Are you a complete idiot? Do it again. We're
not leaving here, till you do. Hours it took me to get it right, hours of
holding back my tears, knowing they'd only make it worse.


The clucking of Trey's tongue zapped me back to the moment. I placed a hand
atop of his on the stick. More for my own comfort than the
demonstration. "Now, when you press the clutch again, you're going to pull
this into second. Smoothly does it, yeah. Good. Now just take your time
coming off."


The transition was pretty good, and before long Trey seemed pretty
comfortable rolling around the parking lot in large circles.


"Wish I'd gone to your high school. Might have had more reason to learn
this earlier if it wasn't a two minute walk from my house."


His face had been flushed most of the drive now, and I sensed his
embarrassment. Ignoring it (because I thought that nicest) I urged him to
try third gear. The parking lot adjoined two others, so we had enough space
to move at street speed. After an hour, I had Trey using the gears to
brake, and certain landmarks we used as traffic lights, where he'd come to
a complete stop before starting again.


"You're a quick learner," I said, impressed at Trey's growing confidence.


"Huh! Here it's okay. But out there," he shook a finger toward the street,
"that's going to be another story."


"Well, I wish I could help you out there, but it'd be against the
law. First you need to get your learner's permit--"


"Already got one. I've done the theoretical test. I just haven't had any
practical lessons," he grinned, "until now that is."


"What stopped you from doing it earlier?"


Trey slowed down, changing gears smoothly. "James left for Europe. Only one
willing, and over twenty-one that wanted to do it. As I said, I should have
learned as soon as I turned seventeen."


I wanted to know why his parents hadn't taught him, but the edge in his
voice warned me not to. Instead I studied his profile, wondering if I
closed my eyes I could recreate it. Abruptly, Trey stopped the car, the
belts tightened against us. Bit of a rough one, definitely need more
practice there. Trey swiveled in the chair, unbuckling his belt.


"Had enough?" I asked. Certainly wasn't going to push him. Not
like... Anyway, we'd been at it long enough.


"Not exactly," he said, expertly moving his giant limbs over to my
side. "But if I don't kiss you right now, I think I might, I dunno, implode
or something." Wow! That'd been unexpected and my-oh-my could he surprise
me like this any time! "I enjoyed that," he said, in-between kisses,
"really enjoyed that. It" kiss "ah...means" another kiss "a lot to me"
deeper kiss "that you brought me here," soft kiss, and leaning back "and
showed me this."


You are welcome, oh-so-so welcome.


He opened the passenger door and clambered out awkwardly.


"Now let's head back. I want to get us some lunch."


After a wonderful lunch of chicken burgers, onion rings, and salad--yeah,
Trey insisted on that last one--we spent a lazy afternoon playing video
games and watching, much to my delight, the Princess Bride! With a very
promising french kiss, I even bribed him into letting me read his
review. It's a swash-buckler. Go Westley! Go Buttercup! Cheeky and fun,
this romance, action, fantasy is a must see. Five stars.


Once it was over we rhymed silly sentences until dinner (the rest of the
salad from lunch). The remainder of the evening we blobbed out watching
star wars, of which we managed four, before falling asleep in each other's
arms.


Monday morning met me with a bit more than a seed of anticipation. The
weekend had been a dream, but today was back to reality. We both had
classes to attend, study to do, and--I drew a deep breath--there was June
to talk to.


I was dressed and ready to leave for my first class when Trey's alarm went
off. He slapped a palm over it. I chuckled that sound waking him more
effectively it seemed.


"Hey, you off already?"


"Yup. Linguistics. Have a busy day."


He yawned. "Me too. When will I see you again, babe?"


"I finish at four. I promised to meet June at six."


"Blah, I have classes until then."


I walked over to him. "Well, tonight, I guess."


He stayed quiet a moment, then, almost as if he didn't want me to hear it,
said under his breath, "hopefully."


I didn't like how that sounded, the way I felt cold inside. "What's that
supposed to mean?"


Yanking off the covers, he got up, searching for clothes to put
on. "Look. We've avoided talking about the issue all weekend, but I'm sure
it's been on both our minds." He met my gaze for a brief moment before
pulling on a t-shirt. "I know I come second--ah--well, after June. So if it
comes to her asking you to make a choice, I know--and it should be
her. But, man, just thinking about that sucks. Bad." Hurriedly, he yanked
down his boxer-briefs and stepped into fresh ones. "I can't say I'm going
to accept that so well." He came up to me, digging fingers into my
arms. "It sort of makes me want to keep you from seeing her," he said in my
ear. Then sighed, and moved to put on his jeans. "I--I just like this
bubble we have right now."


I gulped. Me too. And it wasn't only Trey with insecurities about
tonight. I had my own, and bad. Because, although rationally I knew I'd
done nothing wrong, I still felt terrible for my sister. And like Trey, I
really, really didn't want her asking me to choose between them.


***


Six o'clock sharp, I knocked on June's door. With a yank it opened, and a
whoosh of air greeted me. Roommate Sara braced herself against the frame
chewing loudly on a piece of gum. "You June's bro?"


I didn't like the way her gaze wandered--inched? over me. A touch more
subtlety and I wouldn't have minded. Quickly nodding, I peered into the
room looking for any sign of rescue. "Ah, where's June?"


"Here," came my sister's voice from behind me. Thank God. "Let me just dump
this." She pointed to her fat bag, seams almost bursting, and sidled into
the room.


Sara leaned toward me. Would it be rude to step back? Trailing a finger
over my arm she flashed her pearly teeth. "You're hot."


Ahhhh. I glanced at June, standing behind her, obviously ready to leave,
but giggling instead. So nice it was to see her smiling, it made me less
uncomfortable under Sara's heated gaze, and more appreciative.


Thankfully though, June snuck between Sara and I, just as her chewing mouth
moved closer.


"See you!" I said over my shoulder, relieved to be free.


June shook her head and her lips quirked, as I shuddered. "She's not that
bad. A bit direct maybe, but nice enough."


"A bit direct?"


"Okay, a lot, but she's alright." Her smile widened, and with it my belly
flipped. Remember what tonight's about. A queasy feeling rose and fell
between my stomach and throat. I slowed my step, as if that would
miraculously make it better.


I could only imagine I'd gone pale and sickly looking, which would explain
why June's smile now dwindled. She opened the main doors and we cut through
the crisp fall air to a Chinese takeaway joint around the corner.


"Strange thing," June zipped up her top, "Dad rang this weekend." Her voice
was cautious, and soft, as if nervous of my reaction.


I shivered. "Called me, too. I don't understand it. He usually only rings
on birthdays or Christmas." I kicked a chunk of red and amber leaves in
front of me. "At least then I'm prepared for it. But this was so out of the
blue. He didn't have to remind me we'd be meeting this weekend. Hardly
could forget that." I wished there were more leaves to kick, instead I
settled on quickening my pace. "Don't see why he didn't just call Mom to
double check."


June linked her arm through mine, slowing me slightly. "I don't know why he
rang. But... well..." A thoughtful expression set on her face. What was she
thinking?


"But, what?" I asked.


"Well, I've thought about it a bit, and--what if he misses us, Shane?"


I laughed dryly. "You're not serious."


"I am. I'm not saying he hasn't been a prick"--I almost tripped hearing
that word fly out of my sister's mouth, it was totally unexpected, and yet
to a tee accurate--"But this whole wanting to give us money thing. Maybe he
realizes we're not kids anymore. That soon we'll have no obligation to see
him or even talk to him. It could be it makes him sad."


I shook my head. "I don't believe that."


"You are very harsh on him sometimes."


I stopped mid-step, pulling away from her. Me? I was the harsh one? How
could she say that?


June sighed. "It's just, he's not all bad. He has issues, sure--"


"You didn't get treated the way I did." I heard the hurt in my voice, and
tried (but failed) to mask it. "It was easier for you. You did everything
right."


She shuffled from foot to foot, and after a moment shrugged. "You're right
of course. I just--what if he's sorry? If he wants to change? Would you
forgive him and move on?"


Change? Would he want to? More to the point, could he? Even in the last
conversation he'd had a way to make me feel bad. No. This wasn't about him
wanting a second chance with us. Absolutely not. And even if it were,
forgive him? Hell, no.


"Just think about it," June finished, and continued walking toward the
bright neon sign ahead.


Once we'd ordered and got our food, we found a bench in front of the campus
clock tower. Iron wrought lampposts shed a warm light over us as we
unpacked our dinner.


"Darn it," June said, scowling at two sets of chopsticks. "They forgot to
give us plastic forks."


Setting our fried noodles between us, I pushed back June's earlier words
and concentrated on the reason we were meeting. And what had hovered over
me for days. Where should I start? How? What should I--How did I say I'd
fallen for her ex-boyfriend? How could I limit her hurt, her anger? Did I
even have a right to? Shiiiit.


The chopsticks slipped between my sweaty, nervous, fingers. I wasn't the
only one having trouble. One of June's landed on the ground. I picked it up
and handed her one of mine.


Noodles slid down my throat, but although they were warm and filled with
msg's, I couldn't enjoy it. Eating was just a way to prolong--to
procrastinate. Just tell her!


June carefully brought a noodle wound around her sticks toward her mouth,
but it was fast uncurling and--splat--it landed on the bench. She picked it
up and threw it into the bin on her other side.


"If you hold them just a little lower," I said, showing her my grip on the
chopsticks, "you'll have more control."


She copied my hold and tried again. It wasn't perfect but it was better. We
ate in silence for a bit. I kept taking in large amounts of air, readying
myself to say something, but each time my nerve deflated.


"We need to talk--" we said it at the same time. A bizarre moment. Like we
had twin telepathy or something. Any other time we might--probably would
have laughed, but this time it was as if we both knew the seriousness of
what we'd say next.


"Go ahead," June said, her hand shakily lifting food to her mouth.


I couldn't do this--couldn't say it, hear the words, see her face. But I
had to, and I would. I ground my jaw together and focused just past her
right shoulder. "June, I--" Just tell her. She deserves the truth. "It's
about Trey."


She leaned back against the bench, twisting her
torso--squirming. Uncomfortable or nervous? Both was my bet. "I think I
know," she said quietly. "But I'm ready to hear it now, tell me."


A glance at her sad face almost shattered me completely. How could I have
done this?


"Tell me, Shane."


After a short hesitation where I felt as if I'd been hollowed out, I
spoke. Low. "I like him. A lot. We--ah--like each other." Silence. Had she
even heard me?


"How long?" Her voice wavered, but she quickly got it under control. "How
long have you felt like this?"


"Since rooming with him." Defensiveness sucked onto me, I was worried she'd
hate me. I couldn't keep a level head. "I tried to get over it, I did. But
it wouldn't go away. My feelings just got stronger. I didn't do anything,
not a thing I swear, until well after you'd broken up. And I'm so sorry it
hurts you June, I know this is fucked up, and--"


She halted me, raising a hand. I knew the gesture so well. Just stop a
second, it said. Slowly, she picked up her chopsticks again, pinching food
between them. I could almost see her thoughts tumbling around, knew from
the way her lip shook she was hurting. "Have you two done anything?" The
strained words, her uncertainty at asking at all--I wanted to melt, to
disappear.


"Nothing, really."


Her noodles slipped again. She threw her sticks down. "Nothing, really?
What does that mean?"


"We've kissed. That's--" all. A sob erupted from her and before I could see
it happen, she'd picked up the rest of our dinner and dumped it over my
head. In shock I sat there a moment as she leapt from the bench.


Then, things clicking into place, I grabbed the packet and scooped the
majority of noodles off my hair, chucking them into the bin. I caught up to
her. She was sobbing so hard I instinctively pulled her into an embrace,
smooshing noodles between us. "I'm so sorry, June, I--I'm just so sorry."


She cried a bit longer against my shoulder and then wiped her runny nose on
my sleeve. "I'm sorry too. I thought I'd handle it better than that. I
just--I guess I wasn't prepared for it. Even though I knew Trey liked you."


I picked the larger chunks of food off her, not knowing what else to
say. Fear clawed into me, so strong I wasn't sure I wouldn't throw up. June
meant everything to me. She'd always been there. Came to all my hockey
games and cheered me on. Helped me study for chemistry and physics--my
worst subjects by far. Never laughed at me when I made a fool of
myself--yeah, she always showed her compassion. Was never swayed by other's
judgments. She accepted me for who I was. Was there after Ryan for the
weeks when I'd felt down.


And then there was Trey. How his thick brown lashes and deep eyes looked
into mine, caring, curious, protective. Just being around him was better
than touching music. Surreal. Wonderful. What I'd have wished for everyday,
if I'd have known such a thing--an amazing thing--existed. Around him my
heart beat a million miles a minute.


Don't ask me to stop this thing with Trey. Don't ask me to do that. I
didn't want to have to make that decision--because it might, no, it
would--be the one thing I couldn't do for her.


She began walking, and I remained at her side, every step I felt more numb,
waiting for what she'd say next.


"There were clues you know," she said, fiddling with her zipper. "I don't
know why I didn't pick up on them sooner. Ever since the day you came out
at the pool he'd been different. Hadn't--couldn't really touch me. And when
we broke up, he said he'd had thoughts about a guy. He kept apologizing for
it, but that he couldn't help it. When I asked him if you were the type of
guy he would be interested in..." June shut her eyes, a sad smile cornering
her lips. "That's when I knew. Knew it was you he'd been had been
apologizing for thinking about. It was the way he said "Yes". His eyes
glazed over, he smiled--beamed. There was something in his expression he'd
never had with me before. It hurt so bad to see it."


Her voice cracked, I wished to comfort her. Do--say something to make her
better. How could I, though, when I was the cause of her pain? I didn't
want to rub it in, make it worse for her. I wanted to show her how much I
loved her, but knew in this moment it'd only make it worse. She needed to
hate me right now. Needed to be allowed--have reason to be upset. And that
was fine. Just please don't ask me to end it.


I widened the distance between us, hoping it helped--gave her room to be
angry. I braced myself for what would come next. But she surprised
me. "Shane, I'm sorry for covering you in noodles."


Help! What? And why on Earth was she sorry for that?


"I hate my reactions right now. Hate feeling like this."


I stopped her from moving and faced her. "How do you feel, June? Let it
out." Even though it was at my request, I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the
answer. My stomach tightened.


"Like I want to hurt you back," she said--cried? slapping her hand against
my chest. "Like I want to, I don't know--yell at you, and take away
something important from you so you know how it feels." She looked up at
me, tears training down her flushed cheeks. "But I hate feeling like
that. I hate that the desire to do that crossed my mind. I'm sorry."


"Hey, hey, you don't have to be sorry. You're allowed to feel this
way. It's me that should be sorry. Me." Which was the honest truth. And I
did feel sorry things had gotten so complicated, that my feelings for Trey
were now so deep inside me I wouldn't be able to extract them without
getting sick. Just the thought made me shake, made me cold, made me start
to cry.


Bowing her head, she sighed. "It's not anyone's fault, really. Feelings are
feelings--you can't apologize for liking him."


A tiny bit of relief--hope lined my black fears silver. I suppressed a sob,
and tried for humor, though it came out flat, tired. "Hypocrite. Then you
can't be sorry for yours either."


Her head snapped up and she frowned. "Huh. Right." She picked a noodle or
piece of broccoli off my shoulder and flicked it onto the path. "There is
something that I can apologize for. Something definitely my fault." She
wrapped her hands around herself.


Her fault? There she went again. I shook my head. "You've got to stop
thinking that any of this is your fault. It's not. Don't blame yourself--"


"It wasn't a coincidence you're roomies," she said over me.


Slow, confused, I didn't immediately click onto what she was suggest--what?


She continued before I could speak, even though I had no idea what to
say. "I opened up both your applications and put in a request to dorm with
each other. I--I'm sorry, but I really wanted you to room together."


Finally, I found my voice. "Why didn't you tell me?"


She scuffed the side of her shoe over the path, studying it hard. "Well
originally I knew you two didn't get on so well, I knew you wouldn't warm
to the idea." She was right. Back then there was absolutely no way--"But I
figured you'd get on alright once you lived together. I mean, I couldn't
understand why you didn't like him. He was--is the sweetest guy."


She paused. A chilly breeze blew my sticky hair into my eyes and I wiped it
away. "I thought about owning up to it that morning we received the post,
confirming things. But your face whitened so bad, I--I just couldn't do
it."


I swallowed. How did I feel about her confession? Shocked, yes. And if I'd
been in normal mood, maybe a touch of sneaky!--I wasn't mad, far from it,
just--just surprised she could have done something like that. And I didn't
understand--"Why?" I cleared my throat. "Why did you want us to room
together so bad?"


Without hesitation she answered. "Because I didn't want to miss us. I
didn't want us to drift apart in college. Didn't want to lose what we
had. At home it was easy to maintain, we were around each other all the
time. I thought this way--thinking Trey and I would be together--I'd see
you a lot. That there would be no room for excuses." She let the rest of
her breath go. "I never thought we'd break up. Now we see each other even
less."


I picked up her hand and squeezed it and then came in for a hug. A big,
giant, all-consuming hug. We stayed that way for until both of us were so
cold we began to shiver.


While we held each other, June reminisced. Reminding me of all the fun
times and laughs we had together. "And after graduation? Sitting by the
riverbank, singing, laughing. How you snuck us some booze, but doled it out
to me, afraid I'd get drunk? You make me laugh. I love that you care."


I heard the silent plea that came with these stories: please don't let
things change between us. Let us have things the way they were. Always.


I squeezed her with all I had. I want that too, you doofus. I love you. And
perhaps not so clear to her, but it could be that way anyway. Don't ask me
to choose between the two of you. When I let go, we said nothing for a
moment. But the way June searched my face, I wonder if she hadn't
understood me completely.


She gripped my arm. "I want you to know that I'll need time, but I'll be
alright. About you and him, I mean. I--I just love you both. Want the best
for you both. If each other is what makes that happen, then...I would never
ask you to decide between us." She flashed me a shaky smile, and I could
see the beginnings of tears rimming her eyes, but she held them back. "Be a
good brother, walk me to my room?"


Elated. Sad. I hiccupped, and with it came a large uncontrolled sob. One
pent up too long. Thank you. I tried to say the words, but they came out
mangled. Their meaning, though, came through. I knew by the way she rubbed
my back; by the way she cooed and said everything was going to be all
right. We'll be fine!


Wiping my eyes with the back of my hands and breathing deeply, I sunk into
an eerie calm. In it, I walked June back to her dorm.


She drew out her key, and attempted to lighten the mood. "Now get out of
here, before Sara decides you coming back here means you're interested."


I responded to her efforts, exaggerating a step back away from the door,
making her grin. I want us to be fine too. Have you always grinning. You're
my beautiful sis.


She flicked her hand toward the exit. "Now scram."


I did. And then I went for a good long walk around campus, processing the
evening. It was past midnight by the time I got back to the room. The
lights were out and Trey's regular breaths told me he was asleep. Silently
as I could--I didn't want to wake him up--I found a towel, my bathroom bag,
and a clean pair of boxers.


I didn't know how long I stood under the streaming warm water (I did have a
lot of noodles to deal with), but by the time I was out, dry and back in
the room, I was even more overwhelmed, sad and happy, hollow and yet filled
with butterflies. The contradiction didn't make sense. But that was just
how it was. And the way they conflicted, well, my head was spinning faster
than a spin top. Beat, I pulled back the bed sheets and was about to slip
under them when--


"All good?" asked a sleepy Trey.


"Yeah. Yeah, it's going to be fine."


He lazily beckoned me with his hand flopped out of the bed. "Come in my
bed." Just hearing his voice hit a spark inside me. It felt warm and
comforting, even if demanding. Made me feel wanted--needed. And curling
into him, sleeping beside him--my body itched to cover the few feet that
separated us. Like a magnet pulled me. Only my head shouted a loud No! June
was so upset that we'd just kissed--how would she react, knowing we would
be so much closer? I paused, looking away from him to my empty bed.


But hadn't she also accepted my feelings for Trey? Though she spoke of
hurt, she'd also spoken of wanting us to be happy. And right now, I wanted
to be next to Trey. It was a feeling that no matter how hard I'd tried to
rationalize, I couldn't. It just...was. And it makes me happy. Happier than
happy. Happiest.


"Ass...here...now," Trey mumbled again. I smiled, and as I walked towards
him, felt an easing of my spirit.


He shuffled back toward the wall to give me room, and once I was in
he--eyes shut, and half asleep still--turned around, nestling his broad
back and tight butt into me.


He pawed for my arm, and once he found it, tied it with his around his
waist. My forehead between his shoulder blades, the pressure soothed
me. Lightly, I kissed his back, and felt his miniscule hairs rise.


Needing to touch him more, I ran my fingers over his back and side. I just
wanted him to feel--nice. He hmmmed a bit, but soon sleep robbed me of that
sweetness. I shut my eyes wishing to float away too, but it didn't happen
for the longest time. And when it finally did, I woke up too soon.


Trey wriggled--or maybe jerked. He felt all clammy, and he was sleep
talking, mumbling something. I gripped his arm so he wouldn't elbow me
again. "Hey, Trey. It's okay. It's just a dream."


But he didn't hear me, only thrashed harder. I climbed on top of him to pin
him down, gently telling him over and over it was just a dream. Soon he
calmed. Enough that I could let go and continue holding him. It was as I
entwined my foot around his, that he whimpered something that had me
holding my breath. "Didn't mean...push her."