August 31, 2005
by Matthew Haldeman-Time
I write about men having sex with other men. You must be eighteen or older to read my fiction. This site is for consenting, responsible adults only.
“Jack,” Richard said.
Victor tore his gaze from Blue Eyes just long enough to check Richard’s expression. “Jack?” he repeated, gaze wandering back again, drawn to Blue Eyes.
“Jack,” Richard confirmed. “But he’s not the real prize.”
“He’s not?” Victor asked. How the hell could Jack of the Blue Eyes not be the main attraction?
“Wait for Gavin to turn around,” Richard said. There was a smile in his voice. “Or just enjoy the view you have now.”
Gavin had to be the guy standing across the table from Jack, hands braced on the tabletop, one knee on a chair. His red T-shirt pulled tight across his broad shoulders; Victor’s gaze wandered down a slender back to slim hips and, oh, damn, that was one sweet little ass.
“Rumor has it he’s a natural blond,” Richard said. “I haven’t been able to confirm that personally. He hardly ever gives it up.”
“What else do you know about Blue Eyes and Sweet Ass?” Victor asked, taking Richard’s advice and enjoying the view. Seated at the table, Jack was gazing up at Gavin, giving Gavin all of his attention; Gavin seemed to be talking steadily, now gesturing with his right hand. The focused look in those big blue eyes, the slight pout to Jack’s red lips as he focused on Gavin’s words, damn, Victor wanted him.
“They’re best friends from high school,” Richard said. “Some small town somewhere out of state. They’re roommates. Freshmen.”
“The two of them in the same dorm room?” Victor asked, still studying them, unable to look away. Jack nodded in response to whatever Gavin had been talking about, saying something in reply. “Tell me where it is so I can break in tonight.”
Ignoring that last request, Richard continued on with, “Gavin’s majoring in drama. He wants to be an actor. He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, he’s fucking beautiful, and he’s sweet as hell. Can’t act worth shit, but it’s adorable to watch him try.”
Still in conversation, Gavin briefly touched Jack’s shoulder. Victor wanted Gavin to turn around so that he could get a clear face shot. Maybe if he got up and walked around the room…
“Jack’s an art major. He’s talented, really talented, his stuff’s been in galleries.”
“Galleries?” Victor repeated, watching Jack laugh. “He’s a freshman.”
“He’s a talented freshman,” Richard said.
Jack seemed to catch sight of something behind Gavin, something in Victor and Richard’s direction. Gavin turned, and Victor stopped breathing.
Fuck. Ing. Per. Fec. Tion.
Victor’s heart lurched. Oh, god. He was fucking gorgeous. He was fucking - - those cheekbones, those eyes, that jaw, that nose, that, that, god, just looking at him made Victor dizzy with awe and desire and fascinated shock.
A guy walked past Victor’s table, stopped by Gavin, and leaned down to plant a quick, warm, hello kiss on Jack’s lips.
Victor’s skin was hot from the sight of Gavin’s beauty, and his stomach twisted in jealous, incredulous knots at seeing someone kiss Jack.
“That’s Jack’s boyfriend,” Richard said, knowing and disgusted.
“I know him,” Victor said, watching the three of them. “That’s Mason somebody, he’s in half of my classes this semester, he lived down the hall from me last year.” Mason sat down, Gavin sitting beside him. Gavin was turned at an angle, and Victor stared at his profile hungrily, captivated by his utter beauty. “What the hell is he doing with Jack?”
“Fucking him, if he’s smart,” Richard said.
Mason wasn’t ugly, exactly, but he wasn’t five-star material, either. He wasn’t stupid or worthless or offensive in any way, he was just…Mason. He was interesting enough to talk to, and he seemed pretty on top of his shit during class, but…
“We have a betting pool going on how long it’ll take before Mason figures out that Jack’s fucking Gavin behind his back,” Richard said.
“Is he?” Richard asked, perking up at the idea. Jack and Gavin, their bodies entwined, Jack pumping his dick deep into Gavin’s sweet ass. Hot moans, hotter kisses, Gavin coming in Jack’s hand and-
“Nobody’s caught them doing anything, but if you were Jack, and you had that sweet slice of hotness in the same room with you every night, in the next bed, wouldn’t you help yourself to some of that?” Richard asked. “They’re too close to each other, they’ve been best friends for years. They must have spent the last few years doing something together in that small town, and it wasn’t cow-tipping.”
“Why is he even pretending to date Mason?” Victor asked. Why would Jack bother to have a boyfriend who was, to be brutally honest, clearly unworthy, when he could have a boyfriend who made jaws drop? Why would Jack even put up the front? And why would Mason fall for it? Didn’t he see what was right in front of him?
“Who the hell knows?” Richard asked, in the tone of someone who’d investigated the problem from every angle and had walked away frustrated each time.
Jack was almost too good-looking and too successful for his age. Gavin was so fucking gorgeous that it wouldn’t have mattered if he was an asshole, but that open, welcoming smile told Victor that Gavin was as warm, friendly, and sweet as he was beautiful. They were best friends and roommates, and Jack’s boyfriend was…
Victor didn’t even know how to describe Mason. The guy was nice, but also kind of bland. Nondescript. So normal, nothing stuck out as noteworthy to set him apart from everyone else. Normal light brown hair. Normal brown eyes. Normal face. Normal body. Normal personality. He was just a regular guy.
Jack deserved so much more than normal and regular.
Why weren’t Jack and Gavin together?
What did Mason have that Jack found more appealing than what Gavin had to offer?
Seized with the need to know, Victor stood. “I’m going in,” he told Richard.
“Are you kidding me?” Richard asked, startled.
“Are you coming?” Victor asked, already on his way.
“Hell, yeah,” Richard said, quickly following.
Victor walked right over to their table, stopping right behind Gavin, Richard beside him behind Mason, facing Jack. “Hi,” Victor said, looking around with a smile, electricity sparking through him at Gavin and Jack’s nearness.
“Victor,” Mason said with a smile of recognition.
“I’m Richard,” Richard said, offering Gavin his hand.
“I remember,” Gavin said with an amused, friendly smile, shaking his hand. “Gavin,” he told Victor, and shook Victor’s hand, too. Touching him made Victor’s dick stiffen.
“I’m Jack,” Jack said.
“Victor’s in Shakespeare and Hemingway and Restoration Lit. with me,” Mason told Jack.
“Yeah?” Jack asked, with an interested smile. “Did Bauer’s test kill you, too?”
“My essays could only have made less sense if I’d skipped every other word,” Victor said. “Or maybe that would have helped.” If Jack knew details on Mason’s classes, that meant that not only did they talk to each other, but when Mason talked, Jack listened and remembered. They had an actual friendship? That probably made sense; Jack had to be attracted to Mason’s personality, since with Gavin around, there was no way that Jack was with Mason for his body.
“How’s the play coming?” Richard asked Gavin. “I can’t wait to see you up on that stage.”
“It’s great,” Gavin said, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Rehearsal has been awesome. It keeps me busy, but I’m getting so much out of it. The show’s going to be terrific. You have to come on opening night.”
“I will,” Richard said, gazing at Gavin like a horny, love-drunk teenager. Victor would have laughed if he hadn’t felt the same way.
“What’s the play?” Victor asked, to get Gavin’s attention, to get Gavin to talk to him and look at him again.
Happy blue eyes focused on Victor, and his dick and his brain fell in love at the same time. “It’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’m Lysander. They don’t usually give big parts to freshmen, so I’m working really hard to prove I can handle it.”
“We just studied that in class,” Victor said. Maybe he could talk to Gavin about it, discuss interpretations of the text, offer to-
“I know,” Gavin said. “Mason’s been going over it with me, helping me figure out how to approach the character. Lisa, the director, she says that it’s really made a difference.”
“Always happy to help,” Mason said with a quick smile.
Victor hated Mason.
“Damn,” Jack said, checking his watch. “I have to go.” He slipped his backpack over one shoulder, rising. “I’ll see you later,” he said to Gavin. “I’ll see you sooner,” he said, and kissed Mason. Lifting his tray, he said, “Nice to meet you,” to Victor and Richard, and left.
“I should probably go, too,” Mason said. “I have to study for my - - shit, I left my book in your room.”
“I’m about to head back there,” Gavin said. “You can come pick it up.”
“Great,” Mason said.
“Your black sweater’s there, too,” Gavin said, standing. On his feet, he was even closer and even more beautiful, and he and Victor would have been eye-to-eye if Gavin had made the slightest effort to glance in Victor’s direction. “Jack said if you don’t rescue it, he’s keeping it.”
“He wishes,” Mason said. “What else did I leave over there?”
“We have a pile,” Gavin said, smiling.
“I’d better get over there and salvage what I can before Jack decides to keep it,” Mason said. “It was great to see you.”
“You, too,” Richard said, gazing at Gavin.
“Nice to meet you,” Victor told Gavin.
“I’ll see you around sometime,” Gavin said. “Come to opening night if you can make it.”
“We’ll be there,” Victor promised. Gavin smiled, and Mason smiled too, and they left.
Victor and Richard watched them go.
“Mason’s fucking them,” Richard said. “Both of them.”
“Is this a practical joke?” Victor asked, pained.
“He’s fucking both of them,” Richard said.
“What does he have that we don’t?” Victor asked, still staring in the direction that Gavin had gone.
“Both of them,” Richard repeated.
“It’s a cruel, cruel world,” Victor said, sitting in Gavin’s vacated chair, defeated.
“They’re the hottest, sexiest guys on this campus,” Richard said.
“In the history of this campus,” Victor said.
“And he’s fucking both of them,” Richard said.
Devastated, Victor put his face in his hands. What a cruel, cruel joke played upon him by a cruel, cruel world.
Beside him, Richard heaved a traumatized sigh.
Someone laughed. Male laughter. Happy male laughter.
Victor peeked through his fingers.
Three guys sat a few tables away. A sexy little goth boy and two redheads.
Victor lowered his hands.
The redheads were twins.
Victor liked twins.
“Brandon and Brendan,” Richard said.
Intrigued, Victor asked, “Which one’s which?”
“Brandon’s the one on the left,” Richard said. “Our left. The other guy, his name’s Adrian, he’s a psych major…”