Date: Sat, 30 Sep 2000 18:44:21 EDT
From: Lil Guy <lilguy81@hotmail.com>
Subject: private school roommate part 3

Originally I had intended this series to be a brief
"Slam-Bam-Thank-You-Man" story, but I'm becoming rather
curious about the characters myself now.  I want to know
more about them, and I've received a couple of e-mails
from people telling me that they've enjoyed the building
romance.  I hope the rest of you guys do too!



Private School Roommate - Part 3

Blake told me he loved me.  It seemed so ridiculous.  My
majestic white knight.  He rescued me.  He loved me.

I untangled myself from the sheets and got out of the
bed, leaving Blake's large muscled form asleep under the
covers.  His hair was all mussed and stubble had grown in
overnight.  He looked so peaceful, he was so beautiful.
I couldn't believe that anybody so beautiful could ever
have wanted me.  I was so skinny.  I was so plain.  The
invisible man.

"Blake has a girlfriend," I told myself.  He couldn't
possibly want me.  Beautiful Laura.  Cheerleader Laura.
The two of them are a perfect match.

I quickly put on my school uniform grabbed my book bag,
and left the room quietly so I wouldn't wake Blake.  The
residence was still quiet as I padded down the hall to
the washroom.  A couple of early birds were also up.
I'll admit that I looked back at the shower through the
mirror as I brushed my teeth.  I hadn't realised how much
I enjoyed looking at the other boys before the night
before.  Now, I was becoming rather curious.  I watched
Ben, the boy who lived in the room next door, shower.  He
had a normal adolescent body.  He was no Blake, but
still, I found it oddly exciting to look at him.

I finished brushing and put my toothbrush in my backpack
and headed to the dining hall.  As usual, I went and ate
by myself in the corner of the large room.  I hurried
through the meal, because I hated to be seen by myself.
Usually I would eat quickly and then tuck myself into the
library where I would do homework or read.  This way
there was less chance that anybody would notice me, that
I might get picked on.

I had finished my breakfast and was putting my dishes on
the dolly next to the kitchen when I saw Blake walk in.
My stomach caught, and a lump formed in my throat.  He
was looking around the dining hall, and I saw him go up
to some of his friends to ask them something.  I quickly
slipped out of the hall under the cover of a group of
other students.

I hid in the library until classes started, and managed
to avoid Blake for the rest of the day.  My mind was in
turmoil.  I lived and relived each wonderful moment of
the night before, but accompanying it came a feeling of
utter dread.  What did it all mean?  What kind of person
was I?  What did it all mean to Blake?

In many ways while I longed to see him again, I was angry
at Blake.  I had been so safe in my little world, alone,
isolated.  Then he came, with a promise to take me away,
to free me of my self-imposed prison.  Where he might
lead me though was a frightening, terrifying place.  I
didn't know that I would want to go there.  And how could
I trust him?  How could I let somebody into my life when
I had spent so much of it being shit on by people, being
looked down on.  How was I sure that he wouldn't
eventually become like Frank and his pack, that I
wouldn't be alone again, and that it would be all the
worse because I had thought of Blake as a friend.

I managed to avoid Blake all day, and since he didn't
have the same lunch period as me, it wasn't until dinner
that he managed corner me in the dining hall.

"Is this seat taken?"

I looked up and saw the green eyes that I had looked into
so deeply the night before.  The sun was setting through
the windows of the dining hall, and the other residence
students had filed in for the evening meal.  It was a
buffet-style meal tonight, so I was able to choose my
table.  As usual I sat alone.  "Uh...no.  No it isn't," I
replied.

"You weren't in bed when I woke up this morning," Blake
said softly as he sat down, placing his dinner tray down
in front of him.  A note of regret coloured his words.

"I had to go to the library."

"Is that where you go every morning?  'Cuz I normally
never see you at breakfast either."

I didn't answer him.  I looked at my tray, at the half
eaten meal.  He used his fork to push the food around on
his plate.  Silence fell between us for a short time,
while at the other tables, the students were joking and
laughing and eating their food.  We sat uncomfortably
together, staring at our meals and fidgeting in our
seats.  "I won't tell anybody about what happened last
night, if that's what you're worried about," I said as I
got up.  "Just don't you tell anybody either, okay?"  I
picked up my unfinished dinner and went to put the tray
away.  As I left, I glanced over my shoulder.  The
sunlight came in the window behind Blake.  It shone
through his blonde hair like a halo, and I will never
forget the look of hurt that I had left on his face.

I retreated once again to the library where I opened
books that I didn't read.  I sat quietly staring at the
words, unable to string them together to understand a
sentence.  Guilt and hurt churned in my stomach as I
fought back tears, remembering Blake's expression when I
left him in the dining hall.  I looked out the window
next to me at the sun as it set over the snow covered
town.  Streamers of smoke curled upward from a couple of
houses in the distance, while underneath the window in
front of the school, I saw Blake's friends laughing and
playing in the snow.  They were all people who would
probably never associate with me.  The beautiful athletic
kids who I could never have the opportunity to know.

I turned my gaze back to scan the library and the other
studying students when I saw Blake watching me from the
doorway.  When he saw that I had seen him, he quickly
turned and left.

The librarian made an announcement that the library would
be closing soon, and I packed up my books and left.  I
walked down the staircase to get to the boys' residence
when I saw Frank and his friends.  I chuckled when I saw
that his friend had a black eye from the when Blake hit
him the night before and that Frank himself was favouring
a shoulder I assumed he'd hurt when Blake threw him to
the ground.

I managed to avoid them by going down a back hallway.
Why was I so afraid of Blake?  Why couldn't I just
believe him?  He wasn't like everybody else.  He never
ignored me.  Whenever we were in the room together he
always tried to start conversations which I would quickly
finish for him.  I didn't want to be patronised, I didn't
want pity.  I wanted to be strong, to be independent.  I
refused to be a charity case for some jock who only
wanted to add a merit badge... or maybe all he really
wanted was a hole to plug.  Girls were always complaining
about how men take advantage of them, that they only want
one thing.  How sure was I that Blake wasn't one of those
guys as well?  Couldn't he be the same, only he liked
guys?

This last thought filled me with anger, resentment.  Had
he taken advantage of the situation?  I was exhausted and
emotionally weak from Frank's attack the night before,
perhaps he saw an opportunity.  Blake was probably one of
those dirty fags who took advantage of young guys like
myself and then threw us away as if we were nothing.

I carried this thought with me through the school, and
the anger stayed with me as I climbed the stairs of the
boys' residence.  It smouldered in my head until I opened
the door to my room and looked inside.  Blake was sitting
at his desk and turned around when he heard me come in.
The look on his face washed away every angry thought I
had been formulating in my head and replaced it with the
heavy weight of shame.

I gathered my things for the bathroom and left the room,
my face burning.  I showered and brushed my teeth, trying
to hold onto the anger I had before, trying to make
myself strong with it, but it slipped away from me like
so much sand through the fingers.  When I got back to the
room Blake was already in bed.  I got into my own, trying
my hardest not to look at him, but feeling his sad lonely
eyes on me the whole time.

I turned off the light plunging the room into darkness.
The routine of the night continued as normal.  The sounds
of the building died down as the residence students found
their bedrooms and the proctor knocked on our door and
poked his head in briefly to be certain we were there.
The building shut down and silence filled in, emptying
the residence of its scurrying life.

I don't know how long Blake and I lay there in silence.
I tried to sleep, but the tense quiet lay over us like a
blanket, smothering me.  I wanted to break it so badly,
but was afraid to do so.  Each time I came close to
saying something, a part of me would catch it and the
words would evaporate in the air between us.  I felt
ridiculous.  I did not think anything I could say would
be able to bridge the gulf that now lay between us.

Finally, inevitably, Blake spoke.  A shocking whisper in
the dead swollen silence of the room.  "I wasn't lying,
John.  Last night.  I really do... feel that way about
you."

I answered him with silence.

"Please say something," he whispered, his voice strained.
"I've never wanted to be with anybody before I met you.
I always thought that I could just live my life the way
I'm supposed to, but I can't anymore.  I can't, and it's
because of you."

"I don't believe you," I said.  My voice was clear and
confident, and that surprised me.  How could I believe
him?  How could I take that kind of risk?  After
everything I've ever gone through, how could I risk
believing him?  "Why would you want me?"

I heard Blake turn in his bed to face me.  He was silent
for a moment, processing what I had just said.  "How can
I not?" he replied.  "I don't know why John, to be
honest.  I... I love you."  He got out of his bed, and I
watched as he revealed his beautiful body from under the
covers.  I sat up and retreated to the other side of the
bed, backed against the wall.  He sat down on the edge.
"I always wanted to be your friend, but you wouldn't let
me.  I... when the other guys treated you the way they
did, it hurt me, but I was so scared to say anything
because... because I didn't want anybody to know I'm..."
His head hung low, a deep sadness filled his voice.  "It
doesn't matter anymore.  Last night... I meant everything
I said.  I still feel the same way about you as I did
then.  I was looking for you today at breakfast, and then
when I saw you at dinner... I..."

I watched Blake's hunched back.  He looked so fragile.
This strong powerful body was only a shell, a mask.
Though beautiful in its strength it held something so
delicate, so tender.  I hadn't broken it, but I had
certainly damaged it.  It was soft and warm, and it hurt,
and it hurt because it was afraid that it couldn't have
me.

I reached out my hand and touched Blake's hair.  I
stroked it with my fingers.  I reached over to wipe away
the tears on his cheeks, but he pulled away, ashamed,
ashamed that his masculine strength had failed him, that
I could see his human frailty.  He didn't realise that
that frailty was what made him so beautiful to me in the
moonlight.  I moved next to him on my bed and put my arm
over his shoulders.  I continued to stroke his hair,
uncertain of how I was supposed to be acting.  It was all
so new to me.  He kept his back to me, and I felt such
guilt for how I had treated him.  I didn't want to have
this responsibility, I didn't want to care how I was
making somebody else feel.  I had been alone so long, I
had forgotten what that kind of responsibility felt like.

Right at that moment, I needed him as much as he needed
me.  I didn't want to be alone anymore.  I wanted to be
with him to fill that gaping emptiness that slept inside
of me.  I hugged him from behind, my arms draped over his
shoulders, I pressed my lips to the back of his neck and
kissed him.  I didn't want to be alone.

Blake turned to me, and I saw the tears in his eyes and I
kissed them off his cheeks.  He sat passive, uncertain I
think, afraid that I would turn and reject him again.  I
found his lips and touched them with my own.  I kissed
him tenderly, his stubble scraping my lips.  I kissed him
again, this time lingering and lightly holding him in the
tenderness of that small, gentle touch.  He parted his
lips slightly, and I tilted my head to the side, and
opened my mouth to his.  I caressed him and tentatively
probed his mouth with my tongue and his tongue came to
meet mine, gently touching, holding, feeling.  Our
kissing had a different quality that night, all
tenderness and affection.

Still kissing him, I put my hands on his strong, muscled
chest and pushed him gently down onto my bed.  I slowly
made my way down his neck, laying kiss after kiss on him.
I worked my way down and tongued and kissed his chest,
worshipping its strength and beauty.  I massaged his pecs
with my hands and then groped his stomach, enthralled by
how firm and flat it was.  I noticed that when my fingers
brushed past his nipples, he twitched from the
sensitivity.  I bent down and licked them, and he moaned
softly into the cool air of our room.  I continued to
work them, and revelled in the reaction that I got out of
him, I tongued them repeatedly, working one and then the
other.  He lifted his naked legs up and wrapped them
around me, pulling me into him as he caressed my back and
stroked my hair as I worked on the nubs of his nipples.

As he pulled me close to him with his legs, I felt his
hard cock against my stomach.  It was so hard against me,
but the skin was so smooth.  I could feel that it was
wet, the tip dripping with precum.  I parted Blake's legs
to release myself.  I looked into his eyes, I saw that
his cheeks were still wet from tears.  It seemed almost
incongruous that such a strong face, that such a strong
man could have tears in his eyes.

I took his cock in my mouth, and all the breath left him.
He lifted his hips off the bed and shoved his manhood
deep into my throat.  I worked on him for a while as he
stroked my hair.  He murmured to me constantly as I went
down on him.

I released him, and moved up over his body to kiss him
again.  I looked deep into his eyes as I reached back and
took his cock in my hand and positioned its wet head
against my hole.  I held his eyes as I pushed back
against it, slowly taking it inside me.  I watched as his
eyes glazed over with joy as I took him into my body.
His mouth opened and a silent moan played on his lips as
I took him.  I sat down completely on him, but we still
held each others' gaze.  I leaned down and kissed him
gently.

We slowly made love like that, myself on top, him
underneath.  We didn't reach the same heights of ecstasy
that we had the night before.  This time was very
different.  We weren't as passionate, but we were far
more loving.  As I moved up and down on him, he held my
arms and we watched each other's faces, simply enjoying
the intimate sharing that was taking place between us,
within us.  We enjoyed the sense that we were no longer
alone, Blake filled that emptiness within me through this
intimacy, through this sharing of our bodies.

Neither of us reached a climax that night.  We didn't
feel the need for it.  We made love for hours, never
stopping.  It wasn't the physical pleasure that we worked
for, it was the sense that we weren't alone so long as we
made love, and deep within us we were afraid that a
climax would mean an end to that.

When our lovemaking slowed and eventually stopped, we
still held each other into the night.  We whispered
secret promises to one another, as new lovers always do.
We touched each other in delicate and tender places and
claimed those places as our own.  All night we extolled
affection on one another, loving each other in the
darkness.

"I love you," Blake said as he fell asleep.  His heavy
arm lay across my chest, his head on my shoulder.  I lay
on my back and held his heavy form to my small lithe body
and closed my eyes.

In the silence of his sleep, I felt the shame come back.
We had made love again that night.  All night, he so
fervently insisted how he loved me.  He repeated it over
and over to me, as we lay tangled on my bed.  He swore to
me that he would love me for as long as he lived.  But I
remained silent.

I didn't know if I loved him.

To be continued...