My Best Friend, Tristan (Part 4)

NOTE: Time shift marked by (***)

“What are you looking at, faggot!”

That was Jack. The biggest gay basher at HAOL. The high school he comes from is full of out-gays and he got used to ridiculing each of them. He purposely chose HAOL to avoid gays, only to find Danny admitted a year later. Including Danny, there are about five out-gays at HAOL and 3 alleged closet gays. God such labels. But this is a pretty big campus so they are all pretty well spread out and no real fuss is ever made regarding homosexuality. Just a few personal ones. Like in the case of Jack and Danny.

 Jack hates the sight of Danny and makes it clear every time they accidently end up in the same hall or classroom. Danny has tough skin. He seems to have been gay all his life. And although he has Tristan, I don’t envy Jack’s weekly stamps of disapproval branded on Danny’s eyes, ribs, and Jaw. Tristan isn’t always around to defend poor little fresh-meat, Danny. He can’t be. But does Tristan think about what happens when he’s not around? No.

One time, I just watched them pound him right outside the Performing Arts Building. What could I do when Danny decides not just to be openly gay but a theatre fairy at that? I just stood at the top of the stairs, watching. Looking down at what my life could be if I suddenly started prancing around in my gay suit.

***

Lyla is this pretty political science major in my democracy II class. We began studying together at my house when she asked me for notes for an exam she was flustered about. I told her I could help her out with no real intentions to hit on her like this offer would normally suggest. I’m just always thinking about Tristan. But tonight I resolve that Lyla is a great opportunity for me to try being straight. And if not straight, certainly get in some practice for the many years I’d lead a false life with a wife I would only be able to make love to by thinking about Tristan.

“You’re so pretty it hurts.” I say to her during our studies. She smiles coyly. She was so focused that it was actually kinda sexy. Maybe I could be straight. This new thought brought me some relief I hadn’t felt in a while. Plus my mother couldn’t get enough of her. She’d love the idea of this.

“Was that too cheesy?” I ask her. She just continued smiling kinda closed off from me. We usually got along so fine I thought I might try to ask her out. It didn’t work out for the very reason she was smiling coyly.

***

“Sweetie, where is that sweet young girl you used to bring here all the time?” My mother asks me as I make my routine trips from the front door to my bedroom.

“She transferred out of state, mom.”

“Well that’s too bad, you too were just adorable.”

The truth is Lyla turned out to be a lesbian. Couldn’t tell mom that, before she runs around disinfecting and fumigating the entire house. I’m coming to learn that a huge disadvantage to being in the closet, is that no one really knows who they’re hitting on. I mean I’ve only discovered this about myself recently, I really don’t know how that whole gay-dar thing works. In the very least, I should have known I would not have the courage to talk to a girl that pretty unless was a lesbian.

***

I’m early to the only class that Danny does not also have with me and Tristan. I thought this could be my weekly intake of Danny-free Tristan. But what do I see as I turn to enter the class? Bloody faced tearing Danny and Tristan nursing his head with a bag of ice and some tissue. Tristan turns to see me still standing by the door. He knows what I’m thinking. He walks out brushing past me. I take a seat up front. Just a few seats away from Danny who is now holding the bag of ice to his head. I turn to look at him feeling a little bad. He steadies his gaze ahead refusing to look at me. Before long Tristan comes back in with more tissue, some moist, which from Danny’s jumpy reaction I knew had to be alcohol.

“You don’t remember what they look like or you don’t want me to find them?” Tristan asked Danny who looked to be a little dazed as though he was replaying the beating in his mind.

“You can’t fight them all, you know.” Danny finally speaks. It appears he too had the right sense. I was starting to wonder when it would hit Tristan.

“I’ll stop by the wellness center again after my research writing class,” says Danny as he rises to leave. Tristan pulls him back down and kisses him passionately. He rises slowly while still kissing Danny deeply. Is he trying to make me jealous? I kinda hope he is. Because then I’d know that he’s not done with me.

Then I hear those dreadful words from his mouth to Danny. “I love you,” he says as they’re still sitting close and he’s taking in his essence. I gasp lowly. My heart starts pounding in my chest heavier and louder. And Danny simply smiles sweetly and leaves. He doesn’t even say it back. Are they that comfortable with each other already? Tristan follows him to the door and watch him leave.

For a moment it’s just me and Tristan alone in the room. He says nothing to me. He just continues staring down the hall. Finally I break the silence. “You love him.” I say. “It’s easy how your heart changes.” I think I mostly said this to piss him off. Get some sort of reaction out of him. It worked.

He turns his attention from the hall to me. “Kyle, what do you want from me?” He asks.

“Danny’s right you know. You can’t fight them all. And people like Danny are left to suffer when you’re not around.” I see the look in his eyes. He’s angrier now.

“So Danny’s condition is an opportunity for you to be right?” Tristan asks me. But it wasn’t an attack. He just seemed sad. And I know it was insensitive of me, but it was true. So I continued in that light, hoping that I could make him see something he can’t.

“There is no winning for Danny, is all I’m saying.” I try to be rational this time. Tristan is roused by anger. A moment passes. Then he becomes humored by a thought. He walks over to my desk as he starts to speak.

“Why am I even discussing this with you? You’re a coward.” Tristan is now standing across from my desk. “Danny isn’t gay because he’s with me. Danny’s with me because he’s gay. A decision he made long before meeting me with consideration to asshole thinkers in the world.” Tristan is now leaning over my desk trying his worst to intimidate me. “As for winning, Danny has me. I take care of him. I love him past his pain. And yeah, I fuck him in all the ways he likes. I touch his body, and I remind him that he made a better choice choosing me over a dark lonely closest.” Tristan’s words were steady, not brute. I thought he might be trying to intimidate me. Maybe just hurt me. But I think his real goal here is to make me feel what I was missing. And just like that I’m turned on. Shit. It had been so long since Tristan even spoke two words to me.  Now here he is, inches from my body again.

There’s so much tension as he pins me to this small desk with his words. He was taking the upper hand yet again.

“I’m not gay, Tristan!” I blurted out at him. I think this was my final attempt to convince him of something. Or was I trying to convince myself? Was it a desperate attempt to free myself of this hold that he had on me? He snatches me from my desk and kisses me deeply. Longingly. What? How did we get here? He feels so good, I don’t know what else to do but just drown in his touch. And before I can go in any deeper, he pulls away.

“Tell me Kyle. How long have you waited for me to do that?” He speaks just teasing as ever.

That was just to prove a point? How can he be so cruel?

“Truth is Kyle, I own you. You want my touch, and only mine.” He says caressing my inner thigh. I want him more than anything right now. And he’s not done with me yet. “And you want me to breathe. Sweet. Sexy. Nothings on your skin.”

I shut my lips tightly as Tristan was having his way with me.

“And you want me to touch you like this.” Tristan slides his hand around my lower back just above the curve of my ass. He pulls me close and it makes me feel like I did belong to him. Did I belong to him? I no longer became concerned with this question as Tristan turns me around and presses up against me. Oh Tristan. Why is he doing this to me? It’s so scary knowing someone can step in at any second. Why does being in public get him so…so…MMmm…Ughhh? I can feel him.

Ever since Danny told me that story, I’ve wanted nothing more than to experience Tristan this way. Now he’s leaned up against me breathing sweet nothings in my ear. A bulge in my pants. I want him to touch it so bad. I can feel him get harder against me, and I push into him. Ooo. Think he’s gonna make me cum without as much as a stroke or a jerk.

“No Kyle. I’m not gonna make you cum.” He suddenly halts all his actions. This instantly kills my hard-on. “I want you to sit this entire class and think about me and how close you came, and compare it to what it would have been like to cum with your dick in my hand. Then I want you to convince yourself how you’re straight.”

He walks away. I’m utterly amazed at how Tristan can be this much of a tease. And yet it only makes me want him more. Fuck!

***

For these two hours I’m sitting here next to him with this boner that he caused, he sits there carefree. Looking in his direction got me close. I came even closer from the warmth of his voice as he spoke in class. This is like jerking off to a picture of him. Only he’s right there. And I jerk off to him. And no matter how close I get watching this very real Tristan, it just won’t happen.

The last ten minutes of class and this is torture. Tristan is outright teasing me now. Stroking his crotch with one hand. Taking notes diligently with the other. Just so easygoing. Everything about him. Stroking just for me. Like something someone would do in a room where they are unaware that someone could see. But Tristan knows I can see it. Is he getting some sort of sick pleasure from my misery? I press down on the bulge in my pants. It’s the most I can do without turning any attention to me. But it didn’t help much as my body started to quiver. But just on the clock, fortunately. Class is over. I didn’t know how much longer I could control this ache.

Everyone rise to leave in hurries as though they had as good a reason to run out as I did. But I really couldn’t move now. Tristan stands up, places his hand on the back of my right shoulder and leans next to me. He moans as he looks down at my bulge.

“Why not take this pretty little boner home to your mother and tell her it’s a gift. From a nice girl you met in the Library.” He pats me on the back twice and leaves. When will he stop toying with me like this? The professor watches him leave, then turns his attention to me. The professor could see the anxiety in my behavior. I am slightly spaced out.

“Is…there a problem Mr. Peterson?” he asks me. I shake my head weakly. Standing to leave, almost mechanically, he becomes wide-eyed at what he sees. A soaked front. Right there. To my amazement, Tristan had made me cum. And I might have been smart enough to cover it up, had I been able to feel anything in those moments of watching Tristan’s lingering presence vanish through the door. When would I get to experience it again?