Date: Thu, 25 Jan 2001 09:44:00 EST
From: Ivrys88@aol.com
Subject: "Class Reunion" (2/2)

CLASS REUNION 2/2 by K. Nitsua. Revised version copyright 2001 by the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: From here on, characters appear from some of my previous
stories. Although it is not necessary in order to follow the plot, you may,
if you have not done so, wish to read "Totaling the Balance" and "Settling
Accounts" for a fuller portrait of some of these folks. They are available
in the Nifty Archives. KN

PART FIVE

Lucas awoke late the next morning. He had no idea what time it was until he
looked at his clock, which said half-past nine. He had missed breakfast and
half his Shakespeare class. Despite the long hours he had slept, he felt
unutterably tired and sad. After a moment he remembered why.

During the succeeding days, which gradually stretched to a week, then two,
Lucas wondered if he were physically ill. He was so fatigued he could
barely drag himself out of bed in the morning, yet at night he would spend
hours tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling, unable to fall
asleep. He stopped going to the pool, stopped exercising altogether. He
thought vaguely that he might gain weight as a result, but he didn't,
because he also had no appetite.

For the first time he also lost interest in his classes. He skipped
sessions for no particular reason, and sat silent, not participating, when
he did go. He missed the deadline for turning in a paper for the
Shakespeare class, and found himself unable really to care.

Josephine, his editor at the Banner, asked to meet with him one day. Lucas
was sure that she was going to nag him about an article he hadn't turned
in, but instead she asked, "Lucas, have you been sick?"

He shook his head.

"You look really awful," Josephine said. Lucas noted with a distant
amusement how strained her voice sounded, as if sympathy were not an
emotion it was used to conveying.

"I know you want that article. I'll get it done," he said, every word a
great effort.

"Lucas, if you're not up to it, I can get Eric," his editor said, referring
to another reporter on the Banner staff.

"No!" Lucas said, momentarily goaded into energy by the thought of Eric,
whom he considered a hack, getting his hands on his story. Sinking again
into lethargy, he said tiredly, "Look, thanks for your concern, but it'll
be done."

Josephine looked doubtful. "Okay. You need to have it in by tomorrow
morning to get it in this week's edition."

Lucas nodded, and left. As he walked out of the Student Union, he saw his
Shakespeare professor, Dr. Jonathan Evans, coming toward him. He had
skipped the class that morning as well. Just his luck he should run into
his instructor now, but he didn't have the energy to avoid the encounter.

"Mr. Boatright?" Evans said questioningly, not stern or reproachful. Lucas
liked him, a tall dark-haired man with an angular, striking face and
sharply intelligent brown eyes. "I missed you in class this morning."

Lucas sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I wasn't sick or anything. I
just--didn't feel up to it."

His professor looked thoughtfully at him. "This is not a usual attitude
with you, Lucas. You also haven't turned in the paper that was due last
week."

"I don't have any excuse for that either. I know it's too late, I'll just
take the F on it."

By now his instructor looked genuinely concerned. "Lucas," he said, "Come
and sit with me a while, would you?"

They sat in the large foyer just inside the main entrance. "Lucas," Evans
said, "I don't make it a habit to pry into the private lives of my
students. But I'm worried about you. Has something happened?"

Lucas discovered at that moment he could still feel emotion, because a
surge of grief welled in him, and he blinked back tears. As much as he
liked his instructor, he felt unable to confide in him, or anyone, the
secret sorrow that was tormenting him. After a moment, he said, "It's--not
important, really. I'll get over it. I'm sorry about the way I've been
acting lately. Thanks for your concern, Dr. Evans."

Jonathan Evans persisted. "I also don't make it a habit to compare students
in a class, but I will say this. You're one of the best in there. Actually,
you're one of the best I've had in quite a while. That's why I'm worried. I
don't want to see you go down because of whatever's bothering you. Is there
any way I can help?"

Lucas said, "Can I still try and do the paper?"

"If you feel you can. It's Wednesday, and the paper's a week late. I could
give you until Monday, but no longer. Is that fair?"

Lucas nodded.

"And try and make it to class, okay? Remember, class participation is
factored into your grade too."

He forced a smile as the professor fell into his customary didactic
manner. "Got it, sir. And thanks for your understanding."

Evans rose, and laid a friendly hand on Lucas' shoulder. "Lucas, feel free
to call or stop by if you need to talk."

Lucas nodded. "Thanks, Dr. Evans."

He sat back, staring into space. His spirits, lifted briefly by Dr. Evans'
concern, relapsed into the black hopelessness that now marked his
existence. Another student walked by. He smiled slightly and nodded at
Lucas without speaking. Lucas barely returned the greeting. He recognized
him as the boy who occupied the other single room in his hall--what was his
name? Kevin, that was it. He recalled that Kevin was a campus activist of
some sort. Lucas had seen him mentioned in the Banner, though he had never
himself had any contact with him.

That night, he sat abstracted in front of the idle computer in his
room. With a start, he realized that he had not written or done anything
else for twenty minutes, and it was now almost midnight. He had somehow
managed to finish the Banner article, though even in his current apathy he
cringed at the perfunctory way he had accomplished the task. Still, it was
done, and he e-mailed it to Josephine. But the essay for the Shakespeare
class had stymied him. Reading the texts, with their flowery, eloquent
meditations on the subject of love, simply brought memories of Will
flooding back.

Whoever had said that stuff about how it was better to have loved and lost
was full of shit, Lucas thought. Better that he had never seen Will's
smile, never argued and laughed with him while they hammered out his
writing assignments. Better that he had never known Will's strength, never
seen the tenderness on his face as the handsome athlete had taken both his
body and his peace of mind.

"You should be writing this crap down," Lucas said out loud. He felt a
helpless rage at the state he had gotten into, from such an unworthy
cause. Why the hell couldn't he snap out of it? Feeling as though he were
stifling in his small room, he pushed his chair back and walked out into
the hall.

He headed for the stairs, but his feet somehow carried him up rather than
down. At the top, after ascending one floor, a metal door opened out to the
roof. A stern sign warned against using it, but students had long ago
discovered that there was no alarm, and the door could be propped open for
re-entry. Consequently, the roof had become a favorite hangout on pleasant
nights for a quick smoke, whether of tobacco or other substances. Other,
less solitary activities also took place there, most often up against the
walls of a square concrete block which housed electrical and cooling
systems.

The door opened readily when Lucas pushed on it. He carefully propped it
open with the cinder block someone had thoughtfully provided for that
purpose, then stepped out onto the rough, unfinished surface of the
roof. There was justification for the warning given, as there was no
guardrail around most of the perimeter. But yet another attraction was the
spectacular view afforded of the campus, especially when lit at night. The
illuminated buildings, surrounded by dark masses of trees, connected by the
luminous threads of concrete walkways edged with lamps, drew Lucas'
attention, as morose as he was. He walked close to the edge and gazed
across at the tall tower of the campus chapel.

He tried to clear his mind, simply breathe in the night air and take in the
sight. It seemed as if his capacity for pure enjoyment of anything had fled
forever, though. Lucas wondered what Will would have thought of this view,
if he had ever had the chance to bring him up here. They had done so little
together really, beyond the interview, studying and the one trip to the
lake, and...

The image of the chapel tower blurred in his field of vision. Will's wicked
grin, his graceful form slicing through the water, his voice whispering
encouragement, his caressing hand, his thrusting hips--the images crowded
in and overwhelmed his defenses. Lucas wiped away the tears, but they
continued to fall. He stared again at the chapel, ablaze with light in
ironic contrast to his grief. He stepped to the very edge of the roof and
looked down at the ground four stories below. What if he just stepped off?
Might he not have to feel this pain any more? His right foot slid forward
as he watched it, fascinated. He lifted it into the air, over the edge.

Suddenly, running footsteps sounded behind him. As Lucas started to turn, a
pair of arms grabbed him around the chest from behind, and dragged him
back. Whoever was holding onto him overbalanced and fell heavily backward,
taking Lucas with him. His unknown rescuer's body cushioned his fall, but
Lucas heard a cry of pain as the person underneath him hit the hard
surface. They lay there for a moment, the wind knocked out of them.

Lucas struggled to his feet and turned around to see who had grabbed
him. He had to peer closely in the dim light to make out the other person's
features. "What did you do that for?" he demanded.

"What were you doing so close to the edge?" a masculine voice
retorted. "One slip and you would have gone over, idiot." Lucas finally
recognized Kevin, who lived across the hall and whom he had seen earlier
that day.

The other boy sat up and began brushing himself off. "Are you hurt?" Lucas
said, his mind momentarily taken off his own problems.

"Actually, I don't think so, thanks," Kevin said, "Maybe a scrape or
two. Count yourself lucky, you won't get sued," he added, with a wry grin.

Lucas said, "I guess I was a little reckless there."

Kevin snorted. "I won't argue with that." He looked more closely at
Lucas. "Hey, man, it's none of my business, but--you look kind of
crazed. What's going on?"

For a moment Lucas stared at him. Then he laughed. "Crazed, huh? That's a
good guess."

By now Kevin was on his feet. "Listen, Lucas--it's Lucas, right? You don't
look good. I don't think I should let you stay out here."

Momentarily defiant, Lucas said, "So what are you going to do, drag me back
inside?"

"Well," Kevin said with a slight smile, "I got a pretty good start. But why
don't we just walk the rest of the way? I got some stout back in the
room. I don't know about you, but I need a drink."

They walked down the steps in silence. When they got to his door, Kevin
turned to Lucas and said, "Seriously, come on in for a minute and chill
out."

Lucas opened his mouth to refuse, but then thought of the long sleepless
night that lay ahead. He shrugged and said, "Okay."

He refused the beer Kevin offered. Kevin opened a Guinness for himself and
they sat, not speaking. Lucas looked at his new acquaintance more
closely. He was slightly shorter than Lucas and slender, with straight
blond hair and a pleasant, open face. His large, slate-gray eyes were his
best feature. Kevin noticed the scrutiny and spoke.

"So do I pass inspection?" he said.

"You don't look like a football tackle," Lucas observed.

Kevin grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. Kind of surprised myself
there. I saw the situation and reacted. And," he said, more soberly, "I
read it right, didn't I?"

Lucas dropped his gaze, unable to answer. He wondered himself at the
momentary delirium that had gripped him back on the roof.

Kevin continued, "Look, I don't really know you, but...Lucas, this is a
dorm, you know? It's hard not to hear things, especially if you're trying
to sleep, and people are arguing across the hall."

Lucas felt his cheeks burning. He was overcome with shame at the thought
that someone had overheard that painful confrontation.

"And, I have a lot of nerve saying this, but, well, I might be in a better
position than some people to know what you're going through."

Lucas raised his head. His gaze fell on a poster affixed to the wall behind
Kevin. It was a blowup of an ad for Abercrombie and Fitch, showing two
muscular, shirtless, cavorting young men. Lucas now recalled the exact
nature of Kevin's activism. He remembered him giving a speech one day the
previous year on the front steps of the Union building, about tolerance,
dignity and--being gay.

He looked at Kevin again, and nodded slowly.

Kevin said quietly, "This is going to sound so corny, Lucas. But trust me,
things will get better. Jumping off Rainer Hall won't solve anything. It'll
just make a big mess and the school will send your folks a bill for
cleaning it up."

Lucas gaped, shocked at Kevin's audacious humor. Kevin stared back,
deadpan. Ragged laughter burst from Lucas, and increased in pitch until he
was hysterical, tears running down his cheeks. At some point Lucas realized
that he was really weeping. Kevin came across the small room, knelt by his
chair, and held him as his grief spilled out in long, rending sobs.

He began to quiet down, though he still was shaken with sniffles and
hiccups. Lucas took off his by now wet glasses and tried to wipe his
tears. He managed to say to Kevin, "I hope that's an old shirt."

Kevin chuckled. "It is. Here, blow your nose on it," and took it off and
handed it to Lucas.

Lucas found himself laughing yet again. Careening between extremes of
emotion was making him dizzy. "You are something else," he said.

"I'll take that as a compliment too," Kevin said. "And I'm serious about
the shirt."

Obediently Lucas folded the brown polo shirt and held it to his face. It
was warm and had a discreet, pleasant hint of cologne. As he put it down in
his lap, he saw Kevin kneeling in front of him, bare-chested, in khaki
shorts. His body was compact and toned, not rippled with muscle like
Will's, a line of hair highlighting the central ridge of his abdomen.

Lucas met Kevin's gaze, the gray eyes warm and somber. The intimacy of the
situation suddenly struck him--his face buried in the clothing of another
man, an attractive one, who had just undressed and handed it to him. For
the first time in weeks a wave of sensual feeling rose in him. Kevin must
have seen it in his face, because he raised a hand and gently began to
stroke Lucas' left cheek and ear. "Is this all right?" he asked.

Lucas nodded, turning toward the caressing hand and kissing it. In
response, both of Kevin's hands grasped his head, pulling his face
forward. Their lips met, and parted. "You're very handsome," Kevin said.

The warmth in Lucas' body hardened into lust. He placed both his own hands
on Kevin's neck as he kissed him again, pressing forward urgently until he
awkwardly tumbled off the chair on which he was sitting. His weight pushed
Kevin back onto the floor beneath him. Lucas stretched out on top of the
other boy, his mouth still ardently exploring Kevin's.

When they broke apart, Kevin said, "This is great, but my back's cold. Want
to get in bed?"

They lay on the small bed and kissed some more. Lucas fumbled with Kevin's
shorts. He felt expert hands loosening his own clothes, sliding his
underwear off and releasing his erection. Abruptly Kevin's head was in his
crotch, his moth engulfing his cock. Lucas gasped and closed his eyes,
running his hands through the blond hair. He was afraid he would cum too
quickly, so after a few moments he urged Kevin off with his hands.

"What's the matter?" his partner asked, "Am I hurting you?"

"No," Lucas replied, "It feels great. It's just that it's my first time."

"You've never done it with a guy before?"

"You're the second one," Lucas confessed, "and the other guy didn't suck
me."

"Well, he was a fool," Kevin grinned. "You have a great cock. I'll go
slower." He bent down and resumed his labors, moving more slowly, using
plenty of spit, teasing the head with his tongue until Lucas cried out with
pleasure.

Kevin looked up at him. "Getting close again? I'll quit. I want this baby
somewhere else too." He stopped sucking but kept stroking Lucas' hard,
slick cock lightly with his hand. "I suppose you've never fucked a guy
either?"

Lucas shook his head, and Kevin said, leering slightly, "Well, it's not
hard for the one doing the fucking. Just lie there a moment while I get the
stuff." He got up and opened a drawer in the nearby desk and took out a
condom and a small bottle of some substance Lucas didn't recognize. Kevin
turned and came toward the bed again, his own cock jutting stiffly in front
of him. His obvious excitement increased Lucas' own desire. He leaned down
and kissed Lucas again before inverting the bottle into his palm. Kevin
greased Lucas' organ lightly before tearing open the foil package and
unrolling the rubber over it, applying more lubricant onto the latex. He
then held the bottle out toward Lucas, who took it, not quite sure what to
do.

"I'd love it if you'd lube me up, guy," Kevin said. He got down on all
fours next to Lucas on the narrow bed, facing away from him. Lucas squeezed
some of the thick gel onto his fingers and tentatively touched them to the
cleft between Kevin's cheeks. He heard the other boy's intake of breath-the
gel was cold. He worked his way down, until he encountered softer
flesh. His index finger found the opening and pushed in. Kevin's head
snapped upward. "Nice," he breathed. Emboldened, Lucas wormed his way in
with two fingers, marveling at the softness of the flesh inside. He felt a
firmer mass. Pressing down on this brought a grunt of pleasure from his
partner. Delighted, Lucas repeated the motion as Kevin reached underneath
and began to masturbate himself. "Do it to me, buddy," he urged.

"Stay there," Lucas replied. He rose and turned so that he was kneeling
behind Kevin's body. He could see Kevin's back and shoulders, tapering down
to the small, shapely butt being offered to him. He placed his cock in the
crack and maneuvered it with his hand until it was against Kevin's
asshole. He pushed with his hips, and abruptly the head slid in. Kevin
cried, "Ow!"

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Lucas said, mortified at having hurt him. He pulled
his cock out.

Kevin turned, smiling despite the pain. "Not to worry, guy. It just went in
a little fast, that's all. Let me rest a minute and we'll try it
again. Take it slow, okay?"

Lucas got into position again, pressing forward more carefully. Kevin
gasped as he entered this time but did not cry out. Lucas watched his
latex-covered shaft disappear between the spread cheeks, felt the smooth
heat of Kevin's rectum. His partner moaned softly. "Are you okay?" Lucas
asked.

"Great," Kevin replied. "Don't stop. Make me take it all."

Lucas pushed his pelvis forward until his pubic bone was pressed against
Kevin's cheeks and he could go no further.

"Christ," Kevin breathed, "That is fine." He reached underneath his body
and began to stroke himself again. "Fuck me now, buddy." Lucas obediently
began to move his cock in and out. "How does it look?" Kevin asked.

Lucas grasped Kevin's hips and gazed downward at his dick disappearing
between the cheeks. The sight of it sliding in and out was undeniably hot,
and he began to step up the pace of his motions.

"Oh yes," Kevin's voice came from underneath him. "That's it, do it harder,
man. Fuck that ass. Your big dick feels good in me."

Lucas leaned down until his head was just behind Kevin's and began to pump
even faster and harder. "Uh huh," Kevin said. "Fuck that ass. Pump those
hips. Ram it in. Use my hole, hot stud." The dirty talk excited Lucas past
all restraint. He was now hammering Kevin's hole, shoving him forward on
the bed with each pounding thrust. His breath began to come in ragged
gasps. "I'm going to shoot," he said, next to Kevin's ear.

"Do it guy, I'll cum with you," Kevin said, his hand moving faster and
faster on his own dick. "Oh yes-getting there-oh yeah, gonna blow my load,
OH YEAH!" His words dissolved into shouts. Lucas felt the ring of sphincter
muscles around his cock throbbing as the orgasm shook Kevin's body. The
sensation sent him over the edge, and he gasped out air in loud grunts as
he in turn emptied himself.

They stayed joined together for long moments. Lucas looked down at the man
he had conquered, head bowed in submission, and dimly understood the
triumph and contempt Will must have felt as he took him. Depression
threatened him again at the thought. He pulled out of Kevin's body and lay
back on the bed.

Kevin stirred and turned, smiling back at Lucas. He reached down to the
floor, grabbing the shirt that he had offered to Lucas, and used it to blot
up the cum on the bedspread. He looked again at Lucas and remarked, "I may
have to throw this thing in the trash."

Lucas smiled weakly.

Kevin said, "I think I'll finish my beer." Dropping the shirt back on the
floor, he padded naked over to where he had left the bottle and took a
swig, then returned to the bed. He sat on the edge and offered it to
Lucas. "Want some now? You've got to be thirsty after all that exercise,"
he laughed.

Lucas shook his head.

Kevin looked thoughtfully down at him, taking another swallow. "Lucas,
whatever it is, don't sweat it." When Lucas stayed silent, he laid a hand
on his chest. "Feel like telling me what happened?"

Lucas looked up into Kevin's friendly face, opened his mouth, and found
himself pouring out his tale. He told him everything, omitting only details
that would reveal Will's identity. When he finished, Kevin said, "Just your
luck, Lucas, falling in love with a closet case. A mean, vicious closet
case."

Despite everything, Lucas felt compelled to defend Will. "He's not like
that. I think--he's just confused."

"Well, you're well rid of the asshole. And you've haven't told anyone
anything before this? You're a classy guy, Lucas. Better than the jerk
deserves."

Lucas sighed heavily, "I've never felt so miserable in my life. I was
thinking about doing something drastic up there on the roof tonight. I
don't know what would have happened if you hadn't seen me."

Kevin was silent for a moment, then said, with the wry grin that Lucas had
seen before, "You know--it wasn't just a coincidence that I was up there. I
followed you."

"You did?" Lucas said, surprised.

"Well, I told you I overheard your, uh, breakup with Mr. BMOC. I felt bad
for you, really. But I knew it wasn't any of my business. Tonight, I saw
you go up to the roof and finally got up the nerve to go up there too. I
thought I could strike up a conversation, draw you out. I had no idea
things would get so dramatic--or end up like this, beyond my wildest
dreams," he said, his eyes soft despite his lighthearted tone.

"Kevin," Lucas began, then stopped. Confused thoughts, laced with guilt,
still whirled through his mind.

"Lucas," Kevin said, "I know what you're thinking. Look, I know this might
be a one-shot deal, and that's cool. I'm just glad I met you and could help
you out. You sure look a lot better than you did an hour ago."

"You saved my life."

"And got a great fuck in return," Kevin said, sticking his tongue out
playfully. "What more could Steelman's ranking queer activist want?"

Lucas laughed again at his friend's distinctive humor. "You are something
else."

"So, Lucas," Kevin said, kissing him once more, "are you. Would you do me
the honor of sleeping in my bed tonight?"

Lucas said, "Sure--if you want. There's a really stupid question I want to
ask you, though."

"Shoot."

"What's your last name?"

"Kuehlwasser. I know, it's weird. Means "cool water" in German. And yours
is something long too--Broadbent?"

"Boatright."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Boatright."

Lucas shook his head. "I can't believe I had sex with someone and didn't
even know their last name."

Kevin threw back his head and roared. "Welcome to the gay world, Lucas
Boatright."

PART SIX

Lucas wondered if students could get to the roof of Rainer Hall
nowadays. The dormitory where he had lived his senior year still stood, now
one of the oldest buildings on campus. Probably they had long since fixed
the door so that people couldn't sneak up there, which would be too bad. He
had an urge to walk inside, go up that staircase and check it out. Perhaps
later, if he got the chance.

He wondered if Kevin Kuehlwasser would be here this weekend. It was a pity
they had lost touch. Lucas was still grateful to him for having reached out
just when he needed help badly. They never slept together again after that
night, but Kevin remained friendly. In fact, he became Lucas' first real
friend at Steelman.

"There's no point in having a relationship now anyway, Lucas," he said one
day, toward the end of the semester, when they were eating lunch
together. "Two weeks and we're all out of here, right?"

"If you really loved someone, you could find a way to keep in touch," Lucas
said.

"In your case, you should erase a certain someone permanently from the
memory circuits," Kevin observed dryly. "Mr. Swimmer Hunk sure does parade
that girlfriend of his about." He had managed to wheedle Will's name out of
Lucas.

"Well," Lucas said wryly, drinking his Diet Coke, "It looks like I was the
one who convinced him hetero was the way to go." He was finding it easier
to talk about Will these days, though not without a pang each time he did
so. Teasingly, he said, "Maybe you could bring him back to the right side
of the fence."

"Ha, not likely," Kevin snorted. "I'm not as cute as you are. Besides, he's
not my type. I tend to go for older men."

"Like who?" Lucas asked, curious.

"Like that Shakespeare professor of yours. Hot number."

"Dr. Evans?" Lucas tried to grasp the idea. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. Don't you think he's handsome? And if his dick is as big as his
brain..."

Lucas spewed the sip of soda he had just taken. "You are bad." Wiping his
mouth with his napkin, he added, "I just can't imagine our profs, you know,
having sex lives, even."

Kevin laughed in turn. "Lucas, you're so innocent. Your noble Dr. Evans had
something pretty serious going on with some German instructor my freshman
year. They were together all the time."

Lucas shook his head. "I must have been totally blind. What else have I
missed these four years?"

Kevin smiled. "Someday we'll look back on college and wonder just what we
did learn."

On Commencement day, as the graduating seniors gathered together in the
basketball court in the gym, capped and gowned, to await the processional,
Kevin sought him out.

"Congratulations, dude," he said, embracing Lucas. "We survived."

"Thanks to you," Lucas replied. Kevin made a dismissive gesture.

"Nah. See you afterward?"

"Sure."

But the attentions of his effusively proud parents and other relatives,
accepting congratulations from classmates and professors attending the
ceremony, posing for pictures, all this had prevented him from seeing his
friend. Lucas did catch a glimpse of him standing alone by the gymnasium
door as he and his own family were departing. Kevin looked forlorn and
Lucas almost went over to speak to him. At that moment, though, Dr. Evans,
his Shakespeare instructor, came up to Kevin and shook his hand, and the
opportunity passed. That had been the last time he had seen his classmate;
he had received a few e-mails from Kevin in California, then they had
drifted apart. Yes, it would be good to see him once more.

Will DuBarry had also been at Commencement, of course. Lucas remembered him
vividly, as handsome as ever in his cap and gown, his hair, now longer,
bright against the dark material. It seemed his psyche had finally dealt
with the pain by shutting down where Will was concerned. He didn't remember
feeling anything, though he had known this was probably going to be the
last time he would see the man who had been his first love, and, so
briefly, his first lover.

He had managed to speak to Will after the ceremony, seeking him out in the
crowd. The athlete was surrounded by relatives and friends, his fiancee
standing next to him. Lucas tapped him on the shoulder as he chatted with
some visitors. Will turned and Lucas stuck out his hand.

"Congratulations, Will," he said.

Will momentarily looked uncertain, as if he were worried that Lucas might
cause some sort of a scene. Then he took the hand offered and shook it,
offering a conventional smile. "Thanks. You too."

There was nothing more to say. Lucas started to walk away, when Will called
out, "Lucas?"

He turned. Will hesitated, then said, "Thanks again for the help, you know,
the papers."

Lucas nodded, then left. He had not seen nor spoken to him since.

For the first time Lucas allowed himself seriously to consider whether Will
DuBarry might be here at this Homecoming. He had heard through the
grapevine that he had married Jenny and settled somewhere in the area,
working for one of the high-tech corporations in Austin.

Hadn't that been the real reason why he had come back, Lucas thought;
hadn't he been hoping that Will would come too? Yet, if he came face to
face with this ghost from his past, Lucas had no idea what he would say or
do.

His steps, late on this Friday afternoon, had taken him away from his old
dormitory and toward the gymnasium, which had had a shiny new wing added to
it. He walked through the bright hallways, trying to find the pool. The old
part of the building was surprisingly unchanged. He saw the door that said
"Men's Faculty/Staff Lockers," the small locker room where he and Will had
made love so long ago. Emotions that he thought were long laid to rest
began to stir within him. He found himself becoming aroused at the memory
of that magical day. He tried the door but it was locked, as it had been
twenty years ago. He wanted very much to see the inside, compare it with
the images burned into his mind.

"Can I help you?" a voice said behind him.

Lucas turned, startled. "Hello. I'm back for an alumni reunion. I used to
spend quite a lot of time around here, I guess I wanted to see the old
place again."

The man who had addressed him raised his eyebrows quizzically. "Seems to me
there are more interesting sights on campus than an old locker room." He
was about Lucas' height, perhaps twelve or fifteen years older, solidly and
athletically built, with gray hair cut in a short buzz, and a goatee. His
chest filled out the Steelman College T-shirt he was wearing above snug
dark blue shorts.

"Yeah, I know it's weird," Lucas said, abashed. He couldn't, of course,
explain the exact nature of his attraction to this particular place.

The man shrugged. "If you really want to see it, I have a key."

"Is it okay?" Lucas asked.

"Sure, why not." He stepped to the locker room door and turned a key in the
lock. They went inside. The room was warm and smelled of bleach. It looked
exactly as Lucas remembered it, right down to the dark green of the lockers
and the glaring fluorescent lighting. Lucas paused at the shower entrance,
staring into the darkness, lost in memories.

He realized that the man who had let him in must be wondering what in the
world was going on. He turned to him and tried to explain. "I used to work
out a lot when I was here," Lucas said, "Mostly swimming."

The man in shorts peered closely at him. "Were you on the team?"

"No," Lucas replied, "I wasn't that good. Very serious, but not good," he
chuckled. "I did have-a friend who was on the team, though."

"And who would that have been? I probably know him, I coached the men's
swim team for years. My name's Joe Wojchowski." He extended his hand.

Lucas shook it as he said his own name. "You don't coach the team any more,
Mr. Wojchowski?"

"Call me Joe. Actually, I still do, but I'm not officially a coach, I'm
what they call a club sport advisor," Wojchowski said, grimacing. "The
faculty voted to get rid of athletic scholarships eight years ago. Killed a
lot of team sports."

"Really, that's too bad."

"Well, yes and no. I don't miss the stress and pressure of competition, but
I miss having really good athletes to coach. There were some great ones
around here in those days. I have some pictures back in my office, if you
have a minute. Maybe we can find one of your buddy. What did you say his
name was?"

They were back out in the hall before Lucas said, "My friend's name was
Will DuBarry."

Joe Wojchowski's eyes lit up. "DuBarry! He was probably the greatest
freestyler I've ever coached here. Yeah, I definitely do have stuff on
him. The two years he was here were the best the swim team ever had. Here's
my office. Come on in."

They entered a small, utilitarian room with cinder block walls. The coach's
desk, a couple of chairs, and a massage table on the right side, against
the wall, seemed more than ample furniture. There was a door at the back
that opened out onto the pool deck, and a window next to it through which
the blue water of the pool was visible. Shelves on the walls held trophies,
framed photos and other memorabilia.

Wojchowski pulled up a chair for Lucas. "Have a seat." He drew the Venetian
blind down over the window and went behind his desk, opening a drawer and
rummaging around. "I have some scrapbooks here." He pulled out a thick
black three-ring binder and brought it to Lucas. "This probably has
something. It's from the late 90s, early 2000s."

Lucas opened it and began to flip through its pages. Sure enough, in a
moment he saw an article from the Austin paper about Will, headlined:
"Former UT Swimmer Sparks Steelman Aquatics." It was illustrated with a
color photo, now faded, of Will, smiling up from the water at the edge of
the Steelman pool. He turned the page and paused in surprise. There was his
own interview with Will from the Banner--he hadn't seen the actual article
in many years. "I wrote this," he said.

"No kidding," Joe said. "Turn the page, there's more."

Something in his voice made Lucas glance up at him. Joe was standing by his
shoulder, smiling enigmatically. He did as he was told, and his mouth fell
open.

It was a full-page color photo of Will, climbing out of the Steelman pool,
grasping the metal railings of the pool stepladder. He was wearing a red
bikini that was even skimpier than the team Speedos--in fact, it left very
little to the imagination. He was staring at the camera, unsmiling and with
a decidedly provocative expression.

"What the heck is this?" Lucas asked. Suddenly it seemed warm in Joe's
office. He felt a trickle of sweat run down his back inside his shirt. His
breathing came rapidly and his stiffening cock pressed uncomfortably
against his underwear.

"Let's just say, that wasn't taken for the local paper," Joe
chuckled. "Some photographer from Austin took that shot. Pretty hot, isn't
it?"

Lucas nodded, his eyes glued to the picture.

"Will said he had it done for his girlfriend, and he wanted me to have a
copy too. Oh, he was a handsome devil, that one. Shameless flirt. He knew
how crazy I was about him and he was teasing me."

Looking up at Joe again, Lucas saw the bulge that had appeared in the front
of the tight blue shorts he was wearing. Joe gazed steadily back at
him. Lucas thought, he's cruising me. He found he didn't mind.

"Were you one of the guys he fooled around with?" Joe said, very quietly.

Lucas was surprised, though not as much as he thought he would be. "So he
did it with guys?" he countered.

Joe nodded. "It was a game for him, Lucas. He had an uncanny knack for
reading people, both guys and girls. He saw through me right away, even
though I always rode him hard, made him do extra laps, you name it. One
day, he came on to me here in the office. I was younger then, and not bad
looking, if I do say so myself. I told him I'd kick him off the team if he
tried that again. He laughed in my face. He knew I couldn't afford to lose
him. I dropped the act, told him it would be bad for team morale. He said,
you don't know what you're missing, Coach. Cocky bastard. Yeah, I wanted
him. Bad."

The coach looked down at the erection tenting his shorts and
chuckled. "Looks like I still do."

Lucas reached out his hand and began to stroke the bulge. "So you never
made it with him?"

Joe shook his head, massaging Lucas' shoulder. "Don't know how I found the
strength. I used to lie awake at night and think about the guys he was
doing, the ones he'd take to that locker room we were in. I'd think about
how lucky they were. When I saw you there just now, and you said you knew
him, I put two and two together. You're not the only one who's come back
over the years, Lucas."

He took the scrapbook from Lucas and put it down on his desk, still open to
the photograph of the blond swimmer. He raised Lucas gently to his feet and
began to run his rough hands over the front of his body. "That DuBarry
always did know how to pick 'em."

"I'd say the same about you, coach," Lucas replied, smiling into Joe's
eyes. He undid his belt and lowered the zipper of the shorts, letting them
fall to the floor. The coach wore a jockstrap underneath. Lucas caressed
the pouch, then bent and began to wet the elastic cloth with his mouth,
until it was soaked with his spit and Joe's precum, and he could see the
outline of Joe's penis through the wet cloth. Finally, he grasped the rear
straps running across Joe's butt and pulled the jockstrap down. The cock
flopped out, thick, dark, circumcised, fluid dripping from its tip. Lucas
lapped it up with his tongue before taking the entire length in his mouth,
burying his nose in the coarse fragrant hair of Joe's crotch. He reached
down and released his own dick from the confines of his clothing, starting
to jack himself off as he continued to suck Joe.

"Feels good, fella," Joe whispered. Then, after a moment, he said, "Lucas?
You did do it with him, didn't you?"

"Mm hmm," Lucas affirmed, his mouth still full of cock.

Abruptly Joe pulled Lucas to his feet and kissed his mouth, hard. "Tell me
about it," he pleaded. "I want to know what it was like, making it with
that stud. Talk to me while I do you." He in turn knelt and took Lucas into
his mouth.

Lucas placed his hands on Joe's shoulders. He closed his eyes and
remembered.

"His cock was long and straight," he said. "Seven inches for sure. Flaring
mushroom head. Lots of veins on his shaft."

An encouraging noise came from the man sucking him. Joe was feverishly
stroking his own cock as well.

"Round tight balls underneath. Not much hair, but what there was was soft,
darker than the hair on his head. He smelled like chlorine. Go figure,"
Lucas laughed softly.

"His body--well, you know what his body was like, Joe," he continued, as
waves of pleasure rose from his crotch and coursed through him. "Can you
imagine running your hands over those sculpted pecs, those six-pack abs? I
got to do that."

Another moan from the kneeling man in front of him.

"He had great nipples, very sensitive. He moaned when I licked and chewed
on them."

Joe stopped for a moment, saying, "Oh fuck, this is hot, fella. Tell me
more. Did he fuck you with that pole?" He stripped off his T-shirt,
revealing a muscular chest covered with graying hair, with just a hint of a
stomach underneath.

Lucas, his pants and underwear already down around his ankles, unbuttoned
his shirt, baring his chest. Joe repeated urgently, "Talk to me, man," and
began to suck him again.

"Yeah, he fucked me in that locker room, Joe," Lucas said, through gritted
teeth. He didn't think he could hold out much longer. "First he greased
that rod of his and made me sit on it, ride it up and down like a
fencepost. Then he put me on my back and started ramming it in like a
piston. He shot his load deep in my hot tight ass, Joe. I felt his cock
throbbing as he came."

Joe by now was sliding back and forth frantically on Lucas' raging
hardon. Little moans and whimpers emanated from his throat, blocked by the
rod he was deep-throating. Lucas gripped his shoulders as he felt his
climax gathering.

"He took my cock then, and jacked me until I came, he was still inside me,
and oh god, it was good, Joe, it was the best thing I'd ever felt, I
fucking blew my brains out through my dick, coach, oh god, oh FUCK, FUCKING
CUMMING, JOE--"

Lucas' hands tightened convulsively on the coach's gray buzzed head as he
emptied himself into Joe's mouth. Muffled cries changed to a hoarse
triumphant shout as the coach abruptly let go of Lucas' still spurting
cock.

"Oh fuck, that's hot!" he cried. "Cum in my face, man!" As the remainder of
Lucas' cum splattered across his face and beard, Joe's tongue snaked out of
his mouth, trying to catch as much as it could. His head was thrown back,
his eyes closed, his face a picture of ecstasy. Looking down, Lucas saw the
coach's own thick cock dumping its load onto the cold tile floor.

Joe opened his eyes and smiled up at Lucas. "Thanks," he said simply.

"Thank you," Lucas replied, catching his breath. He was astonished at how
vivid the memories of Will had been, evoked by Joe's photograph.

Joe picked up his discarded T-shirt and cleaned his face and the floor. He
stood and kissed Lucas gently. "I can see why Will went for you."

Lucas looked away, his mood darkening. "He turned out to be a real
asshole." He began to rearrange his disheveled clothing.

"You're not the first one to say that, Lucas, believe me," Joe said, as he
dressed himself. "I had a good-looking, macho athlete crying like a baby in
this office over him. He broke a lot of hearts," he said, closing the
scrapbook and putting it away.

He paused, then said, "Something happened to him a few months before
graduation. He cut out all the messing around, got engaged, got real
uptight. I think Jenny, his fiancee, gave him an ultimatum. He wanted to
marry into that family badly. They were high-tech people, rolling in
money. I heard he got what he wanted. Will usually did."

"And didn't care who he stepped on to get it," Lucas said bitterly.

Joe said, "Lucas, I'm not saying he didn't treat you badly, but it's been a
long time. Why not let it go?"

Lucas replied, haltingly, "I think I could--if I could just talk to him one
more time. Hear it from him, why he acted the way he did."

"Well, you may get that chance. He's going to be at the reunion dinner
tomorrow."

Lucas' heart leaped. "Really?"

Joe smiled. "He called and left a message on my voice mail. Wanted to talk
over old times. We'll see if he actually shows. I'm sure a lot of other
people will be after him too," he said, squeezing Lucas' shoulder. "Funny
thing, he's lived less than fifty miles up the road all these years, and
this is the first time he's ever wanted to see me since he left. Maybe
something's up."

He opened the door of the office. "Anyway, he's not coming in until
tomorrow afternoon. Want to keep me company a little longer and catch some
dinner, if you don't have any other plans?"

Lucas smiled. "Sure, why not?"

Joe beamed. "Great. Just let me stop by the locker room and get another
shirt on our way out." He lowered his voice and winked. "You can show me
exactly where you did the evil deed."

Lucas laughed as they left the room. "Now look who's obsessed with the
past."

PART SEVEN

Lucas returned to his hotel room late that night, having not only spent the
dinner hour but the rest of the evening with Joe. They had finished a meal
at a nearby restaurant, and Joe had invited him back to his house. The
wistful expression in his eyes as he had made the offer, as if he were not
really expecting an affirmative reply, touched Lucas--something about the
coach reminded him of Patrick, his dead partner.

They had kissed and embraced in the living room of Joe's small house near
campus, and gone quickly to his bed. Joe had been an ardent and playful
lover, burrowing into Lucas' armpit with his wiry hair and grinning at his
ticklish laughter. He had taken Lucas bluntly, almost roughly from behind,
driving hard into him while he had reached under and stroked his cock. Joe
had grunted in satisfaction as Lucas cried out, spilling his seed into the
hand that had drawn his orgasm. He had cum himself then, his breath hot
against Lucas' straining back and neck.

"That was nice," Joe said afterward, as they lay in bed, drowsy and
content, still loosely linked together. "I haven't had a visitor in a long
time. You've made an old man very happy."

Lucas embraced him. "I didn't come here to do that. I came here because I
wanted your hot body."

Joe chuckled. "You're sweet to say that. Now, if only Will would show up at
my office tomorrow and say his offer was still good, this would be a
Homecoming for the record books."

"Maybe he's gotten bald and fat," Lucas suggested.

"I doubt it. He was too vain about his looks--he wouldn't have let himself
go."

"You're probably right," Lucas said, running his hand through the thatch of
hair on Joe's chest. "Listen to us. Twenty years and we're still talking
about him. He would just love it, the bastard."

"Do you hate him, Lucas?"

Lucas thought. "I don't know, Joe. I do know I want to see him again. I
hope he'll at least talk to me if I do."

"And I hope you'll work things out with him. You're a fine young man,
Lucas. I've had a great time tonight," Joe said feelingly, taking him in
his arms again.

Lucas smiled. "Not so young anymore. For the record, I didn't think once
about Will tonight until you mentioned him just now, Joe. Unlike this
afternoon."

He heard a throaty chuckle rise from Joe's chest. "Do you know, in all my
years here, that's the first time I've ever messed around in my office? I
have him to thank for that, I guess."

Lucas said, half amused, half rueful, "Same old Will, getting sane people
to do insane things. Even if it's just his picture. Scan a copy and send it
to me, would you, Joe?"

He thought about that remark the following evening as he walked across
campus in the twilight toward the new Student Union building. Was this an
insane thing he was doing? What did he hope to accomplish, if by chance he
did meet Will again?

Lucas found his old shyness returning as he entered the festive, bustling
foyer, brightly lit and crowded with alumni and current members of the
campus community. He had been a recluse during most of his college career,
and had known few people well in his class. He worried that he might have
no one to talk to.

Whatever his misgivings, he had come too far to turn back. He walked up the
main staircase, toward the ballroom reserved for the twentieth-year class
reunion. Pausing at the entrance, he looked in at the people milling about,
scanning the crowd for any face that seemed in the least familiar.

He saw a tall, distinguished-looking man, in his early sixties perhaps,
with salt-and-pepper hair and a mustache. As Lucas scrutinized him further,
he realized with a start that it was his old English instructor, Jonathan
Evans. Wondering exactly what he was doing here, but glad that he could
greet at least one person, he went toward him.

Evans was with a companion, a slender man about Lucas' height and age,
blond and bearded. Lucas thought him attractive, and vaguely familiar
also. Both were holding punch glasses and talking. As he approached, the
professor turned questioningly, and Lucas felt the sharp scrutiny of his
brown eyes, not in the least dimmed by the passage of two decades.

Again shyness threatened to overcome him, but with an effort he extended
his hand. "Dr. Evans? I wonder if you remember me. I'm Lucas Boatright,
class of oh-two."

He need not have worried. "Lucas!" boomed Evans, taking his hand and
shaking it vigrously. "Of course I remember you. Freshman Composition,
Journalism and Shakespeare. A most distinguished student, and now a most
distinguished journalist."

"Thank you sir, what a memory," Lucas said, pleased.

"I do want to thank you again for finally turning in that Shakespeare
paper, too," Evans added, frowning in mock reproach. Lucas blushed, wishing
his professor's memory were a little fuzzier. "No doubt you are more
conscientious about meeting deadlines in your current profession."

"Well," Lucas admitted, "I still pull all-nighters, if you want to know the
truth. You know my work, Dr. Evans?"

This brought another hearty outburst from the older man. "Of course, Lucas!
And do call me Jon. I read your column in the Advocate religiously. I enjoy
it far more than most of what I have to read now."

Emboldened by the praise, Lucas tried a joke. "Your students' papers are
that bad?"

Jonathan Evans laughed. "Lucas, alas, I am not teaching these days. If it
only were student papers I was reading. I always enjoyed them, even the
late ones. That's why I remember your Shakespeare paper. It was the only
assignment you ever turned in late. Now Kevin here, he never turned in a
paper on time, did you?"

This was addressed to his companion, who laughed good-naturedly. "Jon,
you'll never let me live that down. How are you, Lucas? It's been a long
time," the bearded man said, offering his hand.

Lucas shook it. He looked into clear gray eyes and recognition snapped into
place. "My god, it's Kevin Kuehlwasser, isn't it?" More thoughts raced
through his mind as he comprehended the relationship of the two men
standing before him. It seemed Kevin, like Will, had gotten what he wanted.

Jonathan Evans was saying, "Kevin, I ought to be going to the class of
'97. Where is that, do you recall?"

"I think it's the Rose Ballroom, Jon. Upstairs," Kevin said. "Check the
schedule in your pocket. Here, let me have your punch glass."

"You're not coming with me?"

"I'm going to the coffeehouse at eight, remember? Besides, Lucas and I have
some catching up to do." Kevin turned to Lucas and explained, "Jon's having
a busy weekend.  He has to put in an appearance at all the big reunions,
since he's now Acting Provost of Steelman."

"Really? Congratulations, sir," Lucas said.

Evans shook his head dismissively. "Believe me, Lucas, I'd much rather be
teaching handsome, intelligent young men like yourself. And women too, for
that matter. Good to see you. Okay, Kevin, meet you at the pass, whenever
that may be." He moved off, leaving Lucas and Kevin gazing after him.

Kevin turned to Lucas and shook his head. "He's twenty-two years older than
I am, and I can't keep up. How are you really, Lucas?" he asked,
warmly. "Let me put this stuff down and give you a proper hug." He suited
the actions to the words. "You're looking great. Looks like life's been
treating you well."

"It's good to see you too, Kevin. I wondered if you would be here," Lucas
said, as they embraced. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you at first."

"It's this beard. Jon's been nagging me to shave it off. I grew it because
people around here who didn't know about us kept thinking I was his son,"
Kevin laughed, with a bit of an edge.

"So how long have you all been together?"

"Twenty years. This is kind of an anniversary party for us." He laughed
again.

"But--" Lucas was confused. "I thought you went out to grad school at
Berkeley. I got a couple of e-mails from you there."

"I did, but I came back after a semester," Kevin said. "You see, Jon and
I--got together right after school ended. Graduation night, in fact. We
lived together all summer, then I went off to California, but I missed him
too much. He must have felt the same, because he e-mailed me that fall and
asked me to come back. We've been together ever since."

"That's so sweet," Lucas said. "But tell me, Kevin--I mean, it's great that
Jon's been appointed to such an important post, but it can't be easy for
you now."

The wry expression he remembered crossed his friend's face. "Lucas, it's
never been easy for me, or for us. Listen, I'd love to tell you all about
it, but I've got to be somewhere myself in a few minutes. LEGAL's having
their reunion at the Coffeehouse."

"What's LEGAL?"

"Lesbian/Gay Action League of Steelman. We're in a separate building, so
that if someone tries to blow us up, we'll be the only ones
incinerated. That's a joke, I hope," Kevin said, grimacing.

Lucas, disappointed, said, "I've hardly seen you."

Kevin said, "I have an idea. You just got here, right? Have yourself some
dinner--the buffet is great--and meet me by the foyer entrance in about an
hour, around nine. We'll go someplace quiet and talk. How's that sound?"

Brightening, Lucas said, "Great. Now that I know I'll have you to talk to,
it won't be so bad here by myself."

Kevin said, quietly, "You may have someone else to talk to tonight."

Excitement rose quickly in Lucas. "You mean--"

Kevin nodded. "I saw Will DuBarry on campus earlier this afternoon. I
haven't seen him here yet, but I assume he's back for the reunion. Have you
talked to him at all since we graduated?"

Lucas shook his head. "Never."

"Well, I wanted to tell you so it wouldn't be a total shock if you did run
into him. Just FYI. Listen, I'm late. I'll meet you around nine, okay?"
Kevin said, patting Lucas on his shoulder. He started to walk away, then
turned and added, "For what it's worth, he ain't getting any uglier."

Lucas stood, vibrant with nervous anticipation. So Will was here, as he had
hoped and feared. The time had arrived, the ball was in his court. After a
while, he calmed down slightly. Be realistic, he thought, he's not looking
for you. Will might come at any time, or not come at all. He took Kevin's
suggestion and went to the buffet. Filling a plate and getting himself a
drink, he took his food to a table, one of many that had been set up in the
ballroom. It was empty when he claimed it, but in a few minutes, a woman
whom he didn't know, also holding a plate, stopped and asked if she could
sit there. She was a Steelman graduate as well. They exchanged names and
pretended to remember each other. They chatted as they ate and Lucas
realized to his amusement that she was trying to pick him up. First Joe,
now this pleasant and pretty female--he seemed to be much more of a social
success as a graduate than he ever had been as a student. While he was
talking, trying to think of a way to let her down gently, he looked
casually toward the entrance and his voice faded in mid-sentence.

Kevin was absolutely right, he thought. It was not that Will DuBarry looked
exactly the same as he had twenty years ago. Time had, if anything, added
distinction to his youthful good looks. The few lines on his face enhanced
the square strength of his jaw, the charm of his smile; his body, still
tight and athletic, had gained mass, so that it filled out the expensive
suit he wore impressively. His blond hair was unchanged, and shone above
the dark blue, pinstriped fabric of his jacket. He was the very picture of
the college athlete and fraternity boy made good.

"Is something the matter?" his companion asked. He had forgotten her name.

Lucas replied, not looking at her, "No, I just saw someone I know. Will you
excuse me?" He got up from the table as if in a trance and began to walk
toward Will. The former star swimmer was with a group of other men, perhaps
old fraternity buddies or teammates. He turned as Lucas drew nearer, and
their eyes met. Lucas saw the flash of recognition in Will's face, saw him
raise his hand in greeting, open his mouth to speak. At that instant his
nerve failed him. He increased his pace, walked rapidly past the group and
out the doorway of the ballroom.

Lucas did not stop walking until he had gone downstairs, through the foyer
and out the door of the building. At last he paused on the sidewalk,
breathing heavily, flushed and sweating. He was filled with disgust. He had
waited twenty years, flown halfway across the country, and what had he done
when the moment was at hand? He had run away. Coward, he berated himself.

He wanted to turn and go back upstairs, make another attempt, but pride
prevented him from retracing his steps. At length, his inner turmoil
propelled him into motion. He began walking, not caring in which direction
he went.

"Lucas!"

He recognized the voice instantly, though he had not heard it for twenty
years. He turned and there was Will, striding rapidly toward him. Lucas
stopped and waited for him to catch up. He had been given a second
chance. No matter what the consequences, he would take it.

"Why did you run away just now?" Will asked, stopping in front of him. Up
close, he was no ghost. His physical presence hit Lucas like a blow. It was
a moment before he could answer.

"Hello, Will," he finally managed. "Just being silly, I guess. I wasn't
sure you'd want to talk to me."

"I don't blame you for thinking that. But I do. How are you? It's been so
long. You're looking great." Will extended his hand.

"Thanks, so are you," Lucas replied, shaking it.

"I saw Coach Joe this afternoon and he told me he saw you." Lucas wondered
just how much Joe had told Will about their unexpected encounter. "Lucas, I
was thrilled to hear that you were back. I've thought about you a lot
lately. Called the alumni office here to find out how to reach you, in
fact."

Lucas was taken by surprise. "Really? Why?"

Will looked down and bit his lip, exactly the way he remembered him doing
at that interview so long ago. "It's a long story, Lucas. I'd like to tell
it to you, if you'll listen to me."

Lucas had an eerie sense of deja vu. Will had told him a secret twenty
years ago. It was that confidence that had begun the chain of events that
had ended with his heart being broken. Now, here he was, again offering a
revelation. He felt himself being swayed by Will's charm, more potent than
ever, and sudden anger rose in him. He wasn't going to fall for it this
time.

"Why should I listen to anything you have to say?" he asked coolly.

Will's mouth tightened and he nodded, as if he had expected that
reaction. "There isn't a reason in the world. But would you anyway?" he
added, flashing the old smile.

Lucas began to weaken. "I'm supposed to meet somebody else soon. I don't
know how long we'll be."

"No problem," Will answered immediately. "I can give you my Austin number
and you can call me afterward at home. Please say you will, Luke," he
concluded, his face alight with eager appeal.

Hearing Will call him by the nickname that only he and Patrick had ever
been allowed to use dissolved all remaining resistance. "Okay," Lucas said.

"Great! Let me give you my number. Do you have a car here?"

A few minutes later Lucas sat on a wooden bench near the entrance of the
Union building, where he had agreed to meet Kevin. He mulled over the
conversation with Will just concluded. He realized that he had anticipated
a cool, perhaps even hostile attitude on the part of his former
friend. Instead, Will had been friendly and eager to talk. Why?

Lucas realized, with a guilty start, that he had hardly thought of Kevin
since seeing Will--Kevin, who had given him far more than Will ever had, or
would. As if in response to his unspoken thoughts, his friend appeared at
that moment, coming toward him on the path.

Kevin raised a hand in greeting. "Hello! Been waiting long?"

"No," Lucas lied. "How was the reunion?"

"Fun," Kevin said. "Shall we?"

Impulsively, Lucas said, "I have a crazy idea."

"I love crazy ideas. Shoot."

"Do you think," Lucas said, "That people can still get up to the roof of
Rainer Hall?"

Kevin raised his eyebrows. "You know, I don't know. It's possible. That
building's such a wreck now. You know they're planning to tear it down and
build a new dorm next year?"

"Really? Then it may be our last chance. Let's go see," Lucas urged.

Kevin shrugged, smiling. "Why not?" As they began to stroll across campus,
he asked, without ceremony, "So, did you see him?"

"Yes."

"And? C'mon, don't keep this girl in suspense," Kevin pleaded jokingly.

"Well," Lucas said, "He invited me to his house."

"Are you going?"

A pause, then Lucas nodded. "Yes."

Kevin looked at him a long moment, then shook his head and sighed. "I don't
know, Lucas. You sure you know what you're getting into?"

Lucas said, a bit impatiently, "Kevin, I'm not the fool I was twenty years
ago. I can handle it."

"Remember how much he hurt you. I hope you get an explanation for those
terrible things he said."

Lucas said grimly, "Believe me, I'm going to ask for one."

They reached the front door of Rainer Hall. Kevin opened it and they
stepped in. Lucas noted the grimy carpet and peeling paint on the walls as
they mounted the main stairway. At the landing of the fourth floor, where
they had both lived, Kevin glanced at Lucas. "Here goes nothing," he said,
and climbed the last set of stairs to the roof, Lucas following.

The metal door at the top was now badly rusted. Lucas' heart sank when he
saw that it was shut tightly. Kevin looked at Lucas. "We've come this far,
might as well at least try it."

Kevin took hold of the knob and turned, pushing. The door swung open
easily. They exchanged looks of surprised delight. "Well, what do you
know?" Kevin said. Stepping through the opening they found themselves out
on the roof. A cool evening breeze tickled their faces.

"This is great," Lucas said as the two men walked carefully to the edge and
looked out over the campus. The many new buildings made the view even more
lustrous than he remembered it. They stood in silence for long
moments. Finally Kevin turned to Lucas and smiled.

"This is where we met."

Lucas nodded. Confused emotions coursed through him as he thought back to
the night Kevin had rescued him and taken him back to his room, where they
had made love for the first and only time. Looking at his friend now, Lucas
found desire welling up, mingling with gratitude and affection. He tried
instinctively to rein in his feelings.

Kevin dropped his gaze and shuffled his feet in the gravelly covering
beneath their feet. After a moment, he said, "I have a confession to make,
Lucas."

"What?"

"I'm jealous."

Lucas' heart leaped. "Why?"

"Well, here you are, footloose and forty, about to go off for a reunion
with a handsome ex-lover. Makes my life seem pretty dull."

Lucas was not sure where this was leading. He said, choosing his words
carefully, "I'm the one who should be jealous of you, Kevin. You found your
true love and lived happily ever after."

Kevin snorted. "It's not quite like a fairy tale, guy--at least not that
kind." He gazed out at the lighted spire of the chapel, unchanged among the
transformations on campus. "I do love Jon. Even now I look at him and get
weak in the knees. He's so handsome, so brilliant."

"I could tell."

"We've had rough times, but we got through them. And we're damn happy.''

Lucas nodded.

"But--standing here I can't help thinking about that night with you twenty
years ago. How sweet it was."

Lucas was silent, not trusting himself to speak. Kevin looked at him, his
eyes luminous in the dim light. "You may think you're older and tougher
now. But I look at you, Lucas, and I see that same kid I pulled away from
the edge of this roof. The one who still loves his blond swimmer."

A lump rose in Lucas' throat. He could not argue.

"So even though every cell in my body wants to have its wicked way with
you, I'm not going to try anything."

Lucas found his voice. "I'm glad--for Jon's sake. Because... I wouldn't
turn you down."

Kevin's eyes shone more brightly. "You're damn sweet. But tell the
truth--when it was over, you'd still head for his place, wouldn't you?"

Lucas said, in a low voice, "Yes."

Kevin let out a shaky breath, then smiled. "ItÕs damn good to see you,
Lucas."

Lucas reached out and touched his shoulder. Suddenly he found himself
caught in a tight embrace. He turned and kissed Kevin's cheek. "You were my
best friend at Steelman."

Kevin leaned on his shoulder a moment longer, then straightened. He took
out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. "Thanks, Lucas. I wish you well."
Recovering his composure, he looked once more at his friend, his expression
now roguish. "I want a full report."

Lucas laughed. "You'll get one, I promise."

At that moment he saw movement on one of the paths on the ground
below--someone was walking rapidly away from the Student Union, in their
general direction. After a moment Lucas recognized the tall figure of
Jonathan Evans. He said to Kevin, "Dr. Evans--Jon seems to be leaving the
party."

Kevin looked out. "Damn, he's probably looking for me. We'd better get
back."

They descended the stairs quickly and walked out the front entrance. The
provost was still some distance away. He saw them, raising a hand in
greeting as he strode toward the pair.

"There you are," Evans said. "Thought you all might still be at the LEGAL
reunion. Went over there to see if the building was still standing."

"Nope, no bombs," Kevin laughed. "Lucas and I have been checking out our
old stomping grounds."

His partner nodded. "That's right, you both used to live here. Great view
from the roof."

Lucas asked, surprised, "You've been up there, sir?"

"Certainly. Kevin showed me soon after we--met. I had no idea our students
could do such things. That's where he met you, isn't it?"

"That's right." Lucas wondered how much Jonathan Evans already knew about
their friendship. There was no clue in the provost's friendly face. He
looked at Kevin, walking beside them, uncharacteristically silent. He
decided to let it rest.

"I hope you've enjoyed the reunion, Lucas."

This he could answer without reserve. "Seeing you and Kevin, sir, made it
all worth it."

Evans smiled, pleased. "The pleasure's been ours, Lucas. Right, Kevin?"

The three of them had reached the lot where Lucas had parked his
car. "Heading out early tomorrow?" his former professor asked, as he shook
Lucas' hand.

"Not until the afternoon. I'm actually going to visit one more friend
tonight."

"I see. Well, have a safe journey."

Lucas turned to his former classmate. "Goodbye, Kevin."

Kevin took his hand in both of his. Their eyes met in a brief but
meaningful glance. "Goodbye, Lucas. Don't stay away so long next time."

Lucas smiled. "I promise I'll keep in touch."

He watched the two of them walk away, talking in low voices. Lucas saw the
older man's hand come up and rest on Kevin's shoulder, lightly,
familiarly. A lump rose in his throat. Yes, Kevin was the luckier of the
two of them. Lucas hoped he knew that.

He got into his car and started the engine. There was little chance he
would ever feel the same contentment, but it was time to fight, and maybe
subdue, one demon that had haunted his life. Or was it an angel that the
guy had wrestled in the Bible story? At the moment he couldn't remember.

PART EIGHT

An hour later Lucas drove through quiet streets southwest of the
city. Will's hurried but clear directions over the phone had taken him to a
new subdivision, built over what used to be rolling, undeveloped
ranchland. He thought to himself, what must he make to be able to live
here?

At last, after opening an automatic gate with the security code Will had
given him, he stopped in front of an imposing house, built on the side of a
hill, overlooking a valley. Lights from other houses standing on the
opposite side twinkled behind it. He stepped to the lighted entryway and
rang the doorbell.

Will answered almost immediately, smiling in greeting. "Hey, come on in,"
he said. He had changed out of his suit, into a blue shirt and jeans. He
ushered Lucas into the front hall The impression of wealth and luxury he
had obtained outside increased. Will DuBarry had obviously done very well
for himself and his family, at least in material terms. He wondered idly
where his family was. He hadn't seen any sign of Will's wife or children at
the reunion.

"Would you like something to drink?" Will asked. His manner was oddly
formal, strange after his almost excessively friendly behavior
earlier. After all these years he retained his power to charm, to mystify,
to keep him off balance. Lucas looked at him from behind as he headed
toward the built-in bar in the living room. Will's broad shoulders filled
out the shirt he was wearing, and the faded jeans hugged his small
butt. Lucas found himself wondering what he might look like under those
clothes now, and pushed the thought away with an effort.

Will brought Lucas the glass of Perrier he had requested and a Scotch for
himself. "Have a seat," he said, and Lucas sat down on a large white
couch. Will perched on a seat opposite him and sipped his drink. For a
moment they sat in silence.

At last Will spoke. "Luke, thanks for coming by tonight."

Lucas nodded.

Will opened his mouth, as if to add something, then closed it and seemed
abruptly to change his tack. "So, what have you been doing with yourself?"
he asked.

"Well," Lucas said slowly, "I live in L.A. now. I'm a contributing editor
for The Advocate, you know, the gay newsmagazine?"

Will nodded. "Sure. Pretty impressive. You've done well, Luke."

Where was this heading, Lucas wondered. "Not as well as you," he replied,
gesturing in a way that was meant to take in their surroundings. "This
is--wonderful."

A shrug from Will. "It's just stuff. Lucas, are you...with someone now?"

Vaguely irritated at the suddenly personal question, Lucas replied,
"Actually, no. I had a partner but he died a few years ago, of AIDS."

A shadow that he did not quite comprehend passed over Will's face. "That's
tough. Are you, like, okay yourself?"

Lucas laughed shortly. "Yeah, I'm negative if that's what you mean. If you
mean psychically, well, you don't get over something like that in a hurry."

"It must have been pretty terrible."

Somehow Will's sympathy increased his annoyance. "Yes and no. Sure, it was
hard to watch someone you love get sick and die. But Patrick was a great
guy. He finally got me to see that not everyone was going to cut loose and
run away, stab you in the back after you had given them everything. It took
me a long while to learn that." Lucas stopped, astonished at the bitterness
that had come welling up. He had not meant to say such things.

He looked at Will, whose head was down, staring at the glass he
held. Finally he said, "I deserved that, Luke."

Lucas said nothing. Will looked up with a small smile. "Guess I'm going to
have to beg." Still Lucas remained silent. "Okay then, would you at least
listen?" Another pause, then Will pressed on. "I was a fool. Of course I
wasn't going to change by telling myself to cut you loose and just live a
normal life. I was scared, Luke. Scared to death about the feelings I had
for you."

Lucas quickly looked at Will, momentarily startled by his admission. Then
anger rose again and he said, relentlessly, "So you chose. You chose to
live a lie."

Will nodded heavily, resigned. He set his glass on the table next to
him. "You still hate me for what I did, don't you? What can I say, Luke?
I'm sorry. Sorrier than you'll ever know. How can I get you to see that?"

Lucas felt as if he had turned to ice. No warmth, no tenderness would ever
penetrate his soul again. He heard the angry, bitter words spill out,
powerless to stop them. "Is that why you asked me to come here tonight?
Fuck you. You used me up and threw me away twenty years ago, Will. You
think there's anything left for you inside me now? I don't care whether you
live or die."

He paused, breathing hard. Will's gaze had not wavered. Now he said,
tonelessly, "Is that really true, Lucas?"

His rage receded, and shame began to take its place. Lucas sat silent as
the conflicting emotions churned inside of him.

"Then I guess you'll be happy to see what I'm about to show you."

Abruptly Will stood and walked from the room. Lucas thought about
leaving. But his curiosity had been roused despite himself. He waited.

After a few moments Will returned, carrying something in his hand. He
walked up to where Lucas was sitting and tossed the object at him. It
rattled as it fell into his lap.

Lucas looked down. He saw a plastic bottle of pills that looked somehow
familiar. Swiftly he picked it up and glanced at the label. He raised his
face to Will, stunned.

"Patrick took these. Will, are you--"

The other man nodded, his face grim. "Positive? You guessed it."

"How--how long?"

Will shrugged. "Who knows, really? A year, maybe. Thank god I found out
from an anonymous test, so my insurance company doesn't know about it. I
had to tell my wife, though. That was bad." He snorted. "Jenny decided she
didn't want to stick around while her cheating faggot husband got
AIDS. Imagine that. She took the kids and left."

He sat on the couch, his eyes boring into Lucas. "Happy now? I got what I
deserved, right?"

Lucas shook his head, still trying to comprehend the news. "Jesus
Christ. No one deserves this."

A short laugh from Will. "Wait, it gets better. She's suing me for divorce
and custody. Says I'm an unfit father, that I've betrayed her and my
children by my perverted thoughts and actions.

"She's threatening to spread the news too. So far nobody knows--I'm paying
for the meds out of my own pocket so it won't go on my insurance. But if
enough people find out I could lose my job."

"I'm sorry, Will. Really sorry."

Suddenly Will's sarcastic veneer crumbled. Swiftly he brushed a hand across
his eyes. "I'm at the end of my rope. I've got no one to turn to. Except
you. I've thought about you so much over the past few months, Luke. That
night when I was so horrible to you. How you stood up to me and said that
you loved me. I've fucked up my life and I'm going to die soon. I know it's
way too late, but I still wanted to try--to make things right. That's all."

He fell silent, his head bowed in his hands. They sat, frozen, for long
moments, no sound audible in the room except Will's agitated breathing.

Finally, slowly, Lucas laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. Will looked
up, his face a hard mask again. "So, you feel sorry for me now, is that it?
Save your pity. I don't want it."

Lucas shook his head. "I know." Very softly, he said, "Will you take my
love instead?"

The other man's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His eyes widened and
filled with tears. Lucas moved forward and gathered him into his arms as
Will began to sob, softly, on his shoulder.

"I don't hate you," he said. "How could I hate you? When I saw you tonight
you took my breath away. The same way you did twenty years ago."

He embraced Will more tightly, rocking him, comforting him.

"I thought about not coming. I thought about walking out just now. But I
couldn't do it."

Will let out a long sigh against his shoulder, then raised his head,
smiling through his tears. "Jesus, I'm a wreck."

Lucas gazed at his idol, now fallen. The frozen lump inside him had
melted. Overwhelming tenderness flooded his soul. "You're not. You're
perfect."

Will's face clouded. "The hell I am. I'm poisonous, Luke. Better go before
I infect you."

In answer, Lucas placed his hands on Will's face and kissed him full on the
mouth, hard. "I'm not going."

Will's gaze was steady, challenging. "Your last chance, Boatright."

His eyes locked on WillÕs, Lucas began to unbutton the other manÕs
shirt. He glanced downward and stopped abruptly. "When the heck did you
grow all this hair?"

Will laughed so hard Lucas was nonplused. "What's so damn funny?"

"Sorry," Will said, regaining his composure. "Guy, I used to shave it
off. Remember I was a competitive swimmer? I just let it grow now."

"Duh, do I feel stupid, or what," Lucas said, abashed. He tucked a hand
into the opening. "What else don't I know about you?"

"Come in the bedroom and find out."

Naked, they embraced on the bed, one dim lamp illuminating their urgent
bodies. Lucas found that Will's chest was not as perfectly chiseled as he
remembered it, but broader, more massive and bronzed. He moved down past
the still flat stomach and reached the long, straight cock he remembered,
pointing tautly toward Will's navel. He nuzzled it briefly, then looked up,
apologetically. Will nodded, understanding.

"I'm sorry," Lucas said.

"It's okay. Come up here." Strong hands pulled him upward. He felt first
Will's tongue, then his mouth on his erection. Fingers pulled at his
nipples. Lucas closed his eyes and let the pleasure wash over him. After a
few moments Will let go. Lucas opened his eyes to find his partner smiling
up at him.

"ThereÕs rubbers and lube in the night table next to the bed," he said.

"Will, I don't know--" Lucas started to say.

Will shook his head. "No, Luke. I want you inside me."

"You sure?"

The smile broadened. "Don't you think it's about time?"

As he slid his sheathed cock into Will, lying on his back with his legs in
the air, the taller man gasped. Lucas paused a moment, then continued a
slow, relentless penetration. Will's head fell back onto the mattress, his
mouth open in abandon. "Oh Christ," he said.

Carried away with joy, Lucas stretched full length over Will, bending him
double, as he drove into him. They came together, shouting and groaning in
unison. Lucas collapsed onto the body beneath him, Will's ejaculate sticky
between them, gluing them together. The sharp odor of cum mingled with the
scent of their sweat. Lucas turned and buried his face in Will's neck as
their breathing slowly returned to normal.

They lay beside each other on the now disheveled bed. Will reached over and
laid a hand on Lucas' chest.

"Stay," he said.

Lucas nodded. "My plane doesn't take off until late afternoon. I'll have to
leave in time to get back to my hotel and pack up, though."

Will shook his head, his expression serious. "You know what I mean. Stay
with me, Luke. I need you."

Lucas sighed. "You know I can't."

Will looked at the ceiling. "You mean you won't. I guess I understand,
really. You've already buried one lover. Why should I ask you to bury
another?"

"Damn it, don't talk like that."

"It's true, isn't it?"

"No, it's not. You can afford the best care and you know it. You could live
for decades. It's not that simple. I live a thousand miles away, I have a
job I enjoy, a nice apartment it's taken me years to pay for, good friends,
a life."

Will's gaze was thoughtful. "And I'm not worth throwing all that away for?
You're probably right. What if I just gave it all up and came with you?"

Taken aback, Lucas asked, "You would do that?"

The man next to him in the bed said, quietly, "Yes, I would."

Lucas lay silent. His first love was offering him the chance to recapture
the past, to correct what had gone so terribly wrong, to start over. He
should have been feeling pure joy. Instead, doubts assailed him.

"Are you sure, Will?" he asked. "What about Jenny? She's going to play it
up for all it's worth, her husband running off with the queer magazine
writer."

Will's jaw was set. "Let her," he said.

"What about your kids, then? Have you told them you're gay? Are you ready
to tell them that? Bet your wife's already told them plenty. She's talking
to her lawyers too, I bet. What are your chances of getting custody, or
even seeing them, if you're living the homosexual lifestyle, as they'll
undoubtedly refer to it?"

Silence, and he knew his words had found their mark.

"Lucas, I love you. Why are you doing this?"

Lucas looked at his stricken face. "Will," he said more gently, "Too much
time has passed, too much has happened. We can't go back and start over."

Will sat up, and Lucas drew in his breath. Seeing the broad, muscular
expanse of his back and shoulders still sent a shiver through him.

"So is this goodbye, Lucas?"

Lucas grasped his shoulder. "No. You're not getting away from me again,
Will DuBarry. You'll see me again, I promise. Many times."

Will turned and smiled, somewhat unsteadily. "Guess I'll have to settle for
that."

Lucas sat up and embraced him from behind. Will bent his head down and
kissed his hand. "Thanks, Luke. For coming back."

Lucas felt his throat tighten as he pressed his face into the back of
Will's neck. So much had happened to them both, so much sorrow, so much
love given to others. Time could not be forgotten, nor ignored, he
thought. But maybe for one night, at least, it could be kept at bay.

EPILOGUE

His apartment was warm, dusty and silent. Lucas stepped into his living
room, feeling as if he had been away years rather than a few days. As
always, his eye first went to the shelf on which stood the modest gray urn
that held Patrick's ashes. He sat on his couch and leaned back, eyes
closed, filled with memories of both the recent and distant past.

Finally, he roused himself and carried his bag to the bedroom. He had shut
down his computer and unplugged it before he left. Now he reactivated the
machine and waited for it to boot up.

His "In" box was clogged, of course. Swiftly his eye scanned the list, and
he smiled as he caught sight of some new addresses among the e-mails. He
sat and began to scroll down the list, selecting and opening messages.

Dear Lucas:

It was an absolute delight to see you at Homecoming. Jon was very happy you
came too. He wishes he could have talked longer to you. So, frankly, do
I. Please come back, and soon. Maybe as a distinguished alum--certainly as
a friend.

Love,

Kevin

***

Lucas:

It's Monday and I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. First to run
into you and to have such a wonderful time with a wonderful man. I guess
you did see Will at the reunion. You know he came to see me Saturday
morning? I was floored. He apologized to me, said he was sorry he was such
a prick and gave me so much grief. Can you believe that? Oh that
devil. He's as gorgeous as ever. Now I'm in love again. I have a feeling
he's already spoken for, though <g>. Keep in touch, will you?

Joe

P.S. Here's the pic you asked me for. Enjoy.

***

Luke:

What can I say. I'm still thinking about the short time we had
together. You always were the one who could give me what I wanted, and
needed. Only my stupid fault I couldn't see that twenty years ago. Thanks
for coming back, and forgiving me, and still loving me. I feel like now I
can face whatever might come down knowing you're there somewhere, in my
corner. Someday you just might open the door and find me on your
doorstep. Consider yourself warned. I'm sending a picture until you see the
real thing again.

Much love,

Will

***

He opened the two attached files, smiling as the one from Joe filled the
screen. The muscled blond stud in the red bikini gazed out at him. Good
guy, Joe. He'd understood.

He gazed at the computer with more curiosity as he opened the file from
Will. It was a portrait, taken recently. Will faced the camera dressed in
coat and tie, his expression serious, his eyes clear. The closeup revealed
lines on his face etched in more deeply than Lucas remembered.

He arranged the images side by side on his computer screen: Will then, Will
now. His first love was no longer a ghost, but a real person, part of his
life again, however large or small. He had gone to his college reunion to
confront the past, and he had found a new future instead. No doubt he would
encounter both joy and sorrow on the road ahead. Lucas couldn't wait to
start the journey.

END