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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Stronger Than Lions - 33. Icicles

PART IV

ORDERS OF MAGNITUDE


I still wonder whose bright idea it was to hold the provincial gala that year in midwinter, even if it would take place in an indoor heated pool. Before this, however, was the prospect of the annual Polar Bear Club—a hangover from when St Frank’s was an all boys' school and seniors could boost their machismo by swimming two lengths in the outdoor pool, at sunrise, on the winter solstice.

As a swim team member I had no option really but to take part, even though hypothermia was not exactly my idea of a fun outing.

‘You ready for the big chill tomorrow?’ said Chris. He flopped down on the bed, tossing a rugby ball lazily between his hands.

I looked up from my trigonometry homework. ‘Not really,' I sighed. 'But what can I do? I can’t exactly skip the Polar Bear Club and then compete in the provincials on Saturday.’

‘If it’s any consolation, I’m gonna be right there next to you, bru’

I raised my eyebrow. ‘You? Durban boy? You can’t even dip your toes into the water at Clifton.’

‘Hey, I’m gonna try. Plus, don’t you want to see me in a Speedo?’

My pulse quickened. ‘I can’t say no to that. Now leave me so I can finish my homework.’

‘Aw, I’ve been done for hours, man. Come play some PlayStation, it’s almost bedtime.’

‘My hands are sore. You didn’t have to practice for two hours.’

‘Poor baby. Tea?’

‘What are you buttering me up for?’

‘Moi?’ he said, with mock indignation. ‘Actually, it’s kind of silly but…’

‘What?’

‘Would you play piano for me sometime? I’ve never actually had you play for me, man. I know you don’t like being watched, but…’

I frowned. ‘How did you know that?’

‘I know it's personal. Bet it’s fine when you’re in like in exams on stage, but you get all weirded out in any other situation?'

He was right. I like what Debussy wrote about his Préludes—that they were conversations between the performer and the piano. It's still the best observation of the uneasy truce between the public and private natures of art. At the odd concert where I’ve performed, I’m as nervous as a whore in church until I walk out onto the stage. But as I depress the first key, there is nothing but sound, glorious sound for my mind to swim in, as my body does in water.

‘Maybe,' I said eventually. Just not now.’

‘No worries'. He bent over and gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘By the way, you’ve reversed the signs on this equation, that’s why you’re messing up the proof.’

I hated it that he was better in maths than I was.

 

* * *

 

It was like having the pain of an ice-cream headache jammed into every nerve of my body. I was so disorientated from the cold that Vijay had to grab my arm as I was attempting a third length.

'‘You’re done!’ he yelled.

I clambered out, shivering as if I were having convulsions. Mr Mazibuko shook my hand and a broadly grinning Form 1 girl wrapped a towel around me. Vijay had finished first, just before me and Jason, and was being crowned King of the Polar Bears. In between shivers he was trying his best to smile as Franks snapped a photo for the school magazine. I had only one thing on my mind: a hot shower. A few had not made the two lengths: Kowalski, for all his layers of natural insulation had only managed a few metres before shaking his head and giving up. I joined the throng of boys running towards the changing rooms, and noticed with disgust how green the pool had become with algae.

Thank God they'd got the showers going as we ran in and raced towards the soothing hot water.

‘Nice job, bru.’

I hadn't noticed Chris earlier. He was showering right next to me, a big grin on his face, his cheeks as rosy as a doll's. I resisted the impulse to pinch them.

‘Thanks. I see you survived too.’

‘Barely, man. I was one of the last out. I can’t feel my extremities yet.’

‘No sympathy,’ I said, smirking, still shivering as I stood under the blast of the hot water.

Mr Mazibuko walked in and commanded us to get ready for class. Chris and I had been chatting for so long that we ended up being the last to leave.

‘Oh, crap, I left my swimming stuff,’ I said when we were halfway up the stairs to the main school building. 'You go on so long.'

‘Catch you later, then. See you at break.’ He looked around briefly and gave me a quick hug.

Chris took off, and I walked back to the showers and found my cap and goggles still hanging over a tap.

An icy splash of water hit me from behind.

‘Fuck!’ I yelled, going into spasm from the cold. Some dickhead had emptied a bucketful of ice-cold water on top of me. I was soaked. As I turned round, I heard footsteps and muffled laughter in the distance.

My entire uniform was wet. I shucked off the soggy mess, cursing, and tried to get the hot water on, but it had been all used up. Grumbling and shivering, I made my way back to my locker and cursed as I saw that the prankster had taken the liberty of drenching my towel too. Teeth clattering, I switched on my phone and hoped that Chris was still on his way to class and I dialled his number.

He answered.

‘Cal?’

‘Are you in class yet?’

‘No, will be in two minutes. What’s up?’

I told him.

‘Shit. Use my stuff; I’ve got a clean tracksuit and a towel with my rugby kit down there. Combination's your birthday.’

‘You sentimental bastard.’

‘Yeah yeah, you can give me a blow job to say thank you later. Bet it was Jason trying to get to you before the swim meet this weekend. Listen, I gotta go.’

‘Sure. Catch you at break.’

I prayed that Mrs Tomlinson would be having one of her regular cat crises at home and would be late for calculus. Resigning myself to detention for being late, I opened Chris’s locker and went a little dizzy when I saw he had pasted a photo of me discreetly in one. corner. As I towelled myself off the scent of his sweat and fabric softener made me sigh. I positively swam in his tracksuit, and had to go commando, which made the whole feeling even sexier. Still chilled, but at least dry and covered, I grabbed my books and ran as fast as I could out of the changing rooms.

‘Whoa!’

I nearly winded Chris as my head connected with his chest.

‘What are you doing here?’

He gave me a wide grin. ‘Madame Duparc forgot to fetch some worksheets from the printing room so I volunteered.'

'And made a detour, I see.'

'Well, there’s usually a queue for stuff this time in the morning.' He squeezed my shoulder. 'Thought I'd check if my man was okay.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, frowning. ‘Just so pissed off that this stuff is starting all over again.’

‘Just let it go. Jason was probably pissed that he wasn’t first in the Polar Bear Club. Anyway, you look cute in my tracksuit.’

I snorted.

‘In fact…’

He pulled me towards him, and brought his face next to mine.

‘Chris, we’re at school.’

‘There’s no-one here,’ he said, and gave me a long slow kiss.

I had to force myself out of it. ‘Enough,’ I said, smiling and panting. ‘I’m commando, so, I can’t afford this!’

I pointed to my boner making an obvious tent through the tracksuit pants.

‘I'm not sorry,’ he said, beaming. I shook my head and followed him out, my bag in front of mywaist to conceal the obvious.

As we turned to our respective classes, he whispered in my ear.

‘Guess you don't get excited for the rest of the day. So try not to think of me muddied up after practice with my shirt off waiting for you to scrub me clean.’

I stuck out my tongue, trying to ignore my dick twitching and failing miserably.

2013, 2023 Sean J Halford
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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