Bloodlines - 19. Chapter 19

September 22, 1998

I heard the alarm whining at me and rolled over to hit the snooze button, smashing right into Cole. He grunted and turned away from me. As my drowsiness faded away, memories from last night flooded my mind and put a huge smile on my face. We'd just lie around, stark naked, watching television, not talking, until it was time to crash. Then I'd shown him what a real blow job was like. The memory of his body convulsing into my mouth made me want more. I pulled on his shoulder, rolling him over onto his back.

“Fuck,” he said, pissed off. I licked his nipple, and then sucked on it before moving down his body to his groin. He was hard, it was morning after all, and I was in a bit of a hurry, so I just sucked his cock into my mouth and went to work on him, determined to get my own breakfast. It didn't take long. That's something I'd noticed about Cole: he had a pretty quick trigger. We'd work on that.

“Thanks,” he said. He sat up and grabbed me, giving me a nice kiss. “I'm happy.”

I chuckled. “I'm glad my blow jobs are still good.”

“That's not why I'm happy,” he said. “I'm happy because I'm with you, and we're friends again.”

“Well, that was your own damn fault you douche bag,” I said, turning my bitterness into humor. “But I have to take a shower or no one will sit next to me in English.” He nodded at me as I headed down the hall for a fast shower. I came back and started getting dressed, taking my time to try and look sexy. I noticed him watching me and that made me giggle like a girl.

“Wanna meet me here before practice?” he asked.

“Why? You got something planned?” I joked. He blushed. “Yeah, I'll come back here right after my last class.” One more kiss and I was out the door. I saw Cramer walking briskly and I ran to catch up with him. “Hey!”

“What up Carrswold?” he said.

“I think we're staying put,” I said.

“You guys work things out?” he asked. “What the fuck was that all about?”

“It's so hard to live in close proximity to me and not worship me,” I said with faux arrogance. “Some people find it overwhelming.”

“Yeah, that's it,” he said, rolling his eyes. We got to the lecture hall and sat toward the back so we could sleep if it got boring.

It was boring. How much fucking Shakespeare do we have to do? Like I haven't read “Macbeth” before. Christ. My Tuesday/Thursday schedule blew chunks. I had classes non-stop until lunch, then one more afterward. The last class before lunch was history, and there was a big surprise waiting for me there. JP.

“Good morning,” he said formally. “I'm Professor Crampton, and I chair the history department. Unfortunately, Professor Falcon had a family emergency, and I'm your substitute teacher for the day. I seemed to be the only one who didn't have a class scheduled during this time slot, so I got stuck with you today.” That got a predictable chuckle. A professor, especially a senior one or the department chair, could always rely on a few laughs.

I'd always wondered what JP would be like in the classroom, but by the end of the class, I'd forgotten what my pre-conceived notions were. He was a fucking rock star. The guy could turn a lecture into a story, making you laugh one minute, damn near cry the next. And he kept us on our toes, asking incisive questions. One guy a few seats away almost fell asleep, but then JP asked him why he thought Puritans were unable to function in Stuart England. He stayed awake after that. I knew he saw me, I could tell when our eyes met, but he pretended like I wasn't there, and didn't direct a single question to me. I was almost disappointed, but I figured with his fussy sense of justice he'd be worried it would look like favoritism.

I made my way up to the ‘stage’ after class, no mean feat. He was mobbed. I'd heard his classes were awesome but hard as hell. Now I knew why. I muscled my way past some dorky dude who gave me a dirty look. One of my ‘I'll pound you into dust’ looks stopped that. I finally got next to JP and gave him a quick hug. I could say I did it to show affection, and that was part of it, but I also wanted these dildos that wouldn't let me through to him know we had a close relationship.

“Matthew,” he said formally, and then loosened up. “I saw you up there in the back. You're not a front row kind of guy?”

“Nah. I sit in the back with all the stoners,” I joked. “Want to have lunch?” He looked at me, then his watch, weighing the demands on his schedule.

“A quick bite,” he said. “Have to make time for my grandson.” He'd dropped that last comment rather loudly, and that kind of cracked me up. He was out, an openly gay guy, so when he starts hugging enthusiastic freshmen, some explanation was probably in order. We walked out of the lecture hall and just headed to the closest dining hall.

“You have your meal card?” he asked. I nodded. He flashed his faculty ID and they let him pass. Faculty and Staff got free meals. We had to pay for ours. I jammed a tray full of food and met him at a somewhat secluded table with four chairs. He looked at my tray and smiled. “It's a good thing I got a big table.”

“I'm a growing boy,” I said. “You were awesome today.”

“Thanks,” he said, grinning and slightly blushing. “How are you doing? Things alright?”

“Cole and I had some issues, but I think we worked through them,” I said. He sensed that I had more to say, and I did, but I just didn't know if I wanted to go there.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I wonder if I'm capable of love,” I said, baring my soul, opening up and sharing the thing that had been bothering me for a long time, and even more lately.

“I'm positive that you are,” he said, “but I wonder why you don't think so.”

“It seems that every time I find someone that I like, when they respond to me, when they return my affection, I can't seem to get to the next level.” He just looked at me. “Like with Cody. I really thought I loved him. But if I do, why is it so easy for me to just be with Cole? Why don't I think about him all the time? Why didn't it bother me that Brian went down to Malibu and fucked him?”

“I thought Brian went to Chicago?” JP asked, his eyes narrowing.

“I think he had to work some things out, like you said. We talked when he got back. I think we're cool, but I don't trust him. Yet.”

He studied me, as if trying to read between the lines, before responding. “That's probably wise.” Did that mean he didn't trust Brian either? “I'm not one to give advice on love. I didn't fall in love until I was a grad student, well, at least not for real. I had this thing for my cousin, we messed around, but that wasn't love.”

“Who was the guy you loved?” I asked. He was opening up now, and it was fascinating when he did that.

“His name was André. Ace's father,” JP said. His expression was a combination of a smile and sadness. “You probably noticed his statue in the Great Hall. He was killed in Vietnam.” All those years and this still bothered him.

“I'm sorry,” I said lamely. He nodded, acknowledging my words, even though they were probably meaningless to him.

“I think you have this idea that love is this lightning bolt that hits you. Maybe you're one of those guys, but I'm not. I have to know the guy, to be friends with him, to like him before I can love him.”

“I bet Stef believes in lightning bolts,” I teased.

“I'll bet he does,” JP said. It was so cute the way he smiled when he talked about Stef. This was love. This is what I wanted.

“How did you meet Stefan?” I asked.

“My aunt, Tonto, asked me to stop by her house one day. I'd just finished my PhD, and I was all geared up to move to Chicago, my mind on so many other things. I stopped by to see her and there's Stefan, all of 16 years old, wise beyond his years even then, with very little knowledge of English. He'd grown up in Paris with his mother, and when she died, he came to the US to find his father's family. We didn't get along at first. But I took him to Chicago with me to see my new condo and we, well, we got together.”

“You fucked,” I teased.

“A lot,” he said, grinning. “We spent less than a week in Chicago, and really bonded, and not just physically. When we got back to Claremont, I remember going through some real soul searching, trying to decide if my feelings for him really were love.”

“Were they?” I asked.

“Not then, not really. I mean I've always cared about Stef. But for much of the time it's like we lived our lives in parallel universes, with our own partners or lovers, but linked by something bigger than that.” He seemed to shake that off. “After that trip to Chicago, after we got back, I went over to see him and we ended up kissing in my aunt's house. She caught us and had a fit. I can kind of see her point now. I was 26, he was 16. But he didn't stick up for me; he threw me to the wolves. That's when I knew I didn't love him, and that he didn't love me.”

“But you do now,” I observed.

“Totally and completely,” he said. “He's incredible.”

“How did you get from 'not in love' to here?” I asked. This was what I didn't see myself doing.

“Time. We were friends, friends with benefits. You know Stef,” he said, and I laughed. “It just took us a while, a lot of pain, a lot of good experiences for our feelings to fully develop. By the time I moved to California in 1968, I knew that Stef was one of the few people I could count on without question. And he knew that about me too. And when he'd get in trouble, which was often, I'd be there for him.”

“And when you got in trouble?” I asked.

“He usually caused it,” JP joked. “No, I'm kidding. He was always there for me too. He scared the shit out of me sometimes though. I've spent years of my life worrying about him.”

“I guess I thought love was something you felt right away,” I said. “Like when it happened you'd know.”

“Some people have that luxury, but I find that most people who talk about love in those terms usually confuse it with infatuation.” He took a bite of his salad, probably to give us a thoughtful pause. “So who is the guy that you want to capture your heart?”

“I thought it was Cody, but I don't think he is. Or at least he isn't now. It could be Cole. I like him, and we've kind of gotten together,” I said, and felt myself blushing. He grinned at that rarity. “He's such a novice, and he seems so vulnerable. I just don't want to hurt him. What if he hitches his emotional star to me and I can't love him back?”

“Go slow, be friends, enjoy each other. Don't worry about the emotions. No, that's not right. Worry about the emotions. Just don't worry about how to quantify or describe them. I think that definitions or premature proclamations of love can stifle a relationship faster than water puts out a fire.”

“You think I'm trying too hard?” I asked.

“I think you're forcing it, and that's not how it goes. Why not relax and enjoy it?”

“What if Cole falls in love with me and I don't return his feelings? It would devastate him,” I said, whining. God, that was unattractive. I had to remember not to do that.

“Matt, you can't be responsible for someone else’s feelings. Are you not going to allow anyone to get close to you? They take their chances. All you can do is make sure you don't lead them on, that you don't make things seem different than they are. Don't tell him you love him unless you really mean it.” I nodded, taking in his words like a man in the desert drinks from a newly discovered well.

“Thanks JP. You put things into perspective,” I said warmly.

“I think I told you to come talk to me if you needed me. This definitely falls into that category. I'll be offended if you don't.” He swallowed and changed his tone. “Your parents were really wonderful houseguests. We enjoyed their company.”

“They seemed to have a great time,” I agreed. The e-mail I'd gotten from Mummy rambled on and on about their wonderful visit.

“Thanksgiving will be upon us soon, and I'm assuming you'll want to go home to celebrate?” he asked.

“I hadn't really thought about it, but that would be the default plan,” I said.

“I was going to invite your parents out here instead, if that works for you. To be honest, you're part of our family now. It would be incomplete on a day of thanks not to have you around.” I just stared at him, stunned.

“I don't know what to say,” I said. I heard my voice crack from the emotion. “I would miss you guys too.”

“Then I will invite them,” he said. “And now I have to go. I have a class shortly, and I have to go get my notes.”

I stood up and walked out with him. “Thanks JP,” I said sincerely, and gave him a big hug. I could tell it made him uncomfortable, here on campus and all, but he gave in and hugged me back. I practically skipped to my last class. Approval and love from JP, from a guy like him that I respected so much, was like a gift straight from God.

September 25, 1998

“You OK?” I asked Cole as we drove to the Ice Oasis. He'd been kind of aloof lately. We kissed, and frotted, and blew each other, but he didn't seem to want things to go further. And I think I'd guessed why. He was straight. When Amber would come down and fuck us, which was often, he'd light up like he didn't when it was just me.

“Yep,” he said.

“If you had a choice to fuck Amber, or fuck me, who would you fuck?” I asked, knowing this would freak him out. He said nothing.

“I don't know,” he lied.

“You know, you just don't want to tell me it's Amber,” I said. He looked at me, his eyes wide in fear, not of anything I'd do, but fear that he'd hurt me. “It's cool Cole. You're straight.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You're not mad at me?”

I laughed then, really laughed. “Dude, you're fucking around with me, just to make me feel loved, when you really don't want to. That's like the nicest thing a friend's ever done for me.” I'm not sure if that's true or not, but it was really sweet of him.

“I didn't say it wasn't stuff I like doing,” he said, blushing. “I like kissing you, and I love it when you blow me, I just like being with girls better.”

“Cole, I'll blow you any time you want,” I said with a leer. “You want to play around, you ask me, OK? I won't hit on you.”

“I don't mind,” he said.

“Dude, I can get laid. I'm not desperate,” I said, joking. “I like being with you, it makes me feel close to you. So if you want to, that's cool. But it's more important to me that you're my friend.”

He grinned, a huge smile, the relief so visible on his face. “I didn't want to hurt you, or you to think I didn't love you.”

“You love me?” I asked, and the grin vanished as he blushed. I laughed hard again.

“Yeah, I do,” he said sincerely.

Now it was my turn to shut the fuck up and just be stunned momentarily. “I love you too. I've never had a friend, someone I could really trust, until I met you. I had my family, and that was it. All my other friends turned out to be douche bags, and they'd blow me off at the drop of the hat.”

He reached over and grabbed my hand affectionately. “I won't ever blow you off.” I felt a tear in my eye. Fuck. “I might still blow you once in a while though.” I stared at him, and then cracked up again.

I couldn't stop smiling and I knew it. Somehow, this fit; it was so perfect, having him as a friend. Brad had grown up with Ace, someone to rely on, and I'd never had that until now.

We pulled up to the rink and lugged our stuff in. We were supposed to be able to leave it here after today. They were giving us a dedicated locker room, or at least a place to store our shit. We got into the locker room to find a really glum looking Cramer waiting for us.

“No one will show,” Cramer said. He was always so negative.

“Dude, it's our first game and we're playing fucking Berkeley. Everyone hates Berkeley. We'll get a crowd,” I said, trying to encourage him. Our first hockey game of the season, against our biggest rival, on our own ice. They'd show up. “Besides, even if they don't, it will be in the paper. People will know. Hang in there dude. Some chick will have mercy on you and fuck you.”

“Just cause you're racking up half the fucking dorm,” he said.

“You're confusing me with Konrad,” I said.

“That's true,” Konrad interrupted, “although I think I'm closer to two-thirds by now.”

“Yeah, well Amber's not camped out in your room, Konrad. Couldn't get her to cum?” Cramer shot back.

“You didn't hear the screams?” Konrad asked, pretending to be serious.

“Those were screams of terror when she saw your dick,” Danfield said.

“Most women do scream. It's quite big,” he said. He was so fucking arrogant it was hilarious.

“So Carrswold, what does Weber do while you're nailing her?” Danfield asked.

“We double-team her,” I said honestly. They stared at us, gaping.

“That's gay,” Cramer said.

“Call it what you want,” Cole said. “Fucking rocks.”

“So do you like touch each other?” Cramer asked.

“I bet you're hard as a rock just thinking about it,” I said. Cramer blushed.

“I am,” Konrad said. “Think she can handle three guys?”

“Make it four,” Danfield said, cracking us up. Cramer just stared at us like we were freaks. We all looked at him like he was an uptight dipwad, and he finally got it and mellowed.

“Let me know when she pulls the train,” he joked. I put on my hockey pants, then my skates, and finally slipped the Cardinal jersey over my head. I stood there, suited up in my new uniform, my number, 42, on the back with my name. I grinned at Cole and he grinned back.

“Let's go scratch some Bears,” Turner said. We headed out onto the ice and found, despite Cramer's worries, that the arena was full. Full of Cardinal fans, but full of Bears fans too. Cool. That would make it that much more fun. Turner made us wait for our intro.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, your 1998-99 Stanford Cardinal Hockey team!” The crowd went wild as we skated out onto the ice. We skated in circles until they introduced the starting lineup. That honor went to the seniors, as it should be. Then all the commotion, the pre-skate, the warm-up, all of that was over, and we sat where most freshmen sat: on the bench.

I watched the action intently. The guys from Cal were big this year, and they were playing physically, blasting the hell out of our forwards. They wore us down, and then moved in for the kill. At the end of the first period, we were down 2-0. Everyone was in a pissed off mood in the locker room.

“If you fuckups aren't going to fucking play, I'm going to put in some of the rookies,” the coach said. “Gilchrist, you're warming the bench. Carrswold, you're on his line.”

“We're used to each other,” whined Wolfrum, Gilchrist's buddy.

“Good, then you can keep him company. Danfield, you can take his place.” We were grinning ear to ear. “And you, Folsom, what the fuck is your deal?” he demanded of one of the defensemen.

“Those fuckers twisted my ankle with that last hit,” he said, nursing his sore foot.

“Alright Lurch, you're in for him.” That was his nickname for Cole. “The rest of you don't pick up your game, you don't get ice time. It's that simple.”

Danfield played right wing, I played center, and we had Gillespie on left. He grinned at us. “Don't get hurt rookies.”

“Try to keep up old man,” I said to him. Now I knew I was going to play, play in the opening game. How fucking cool was that? I skated with a new gusto, a new purpose. I sat on the bench while our first line went out to take the opening face-off, watching the game, but feeling a presence, like someone was watching me. I scanned the stands and there, at center ice, sat my California family. JP and Stef were there, with JP looking dorky and Stefan bundled up like it was the dead of winter. Robbie and Brad were next to them, looking straight at me. I caught their attention and smiled, and they smiled back. Next to them was JJ, bouncing up and down, unable to sit still. And sitting behind them was Cody.

I looked up at him and our eyes met. He smiled, but we talked visually. I felt all of my feelings for him surge, and I had to turn them back enough to keep from getting hard as a rock. Seeing him reminded me of how much I missed him, and I could tell how much he missed me.

“Dude, get ready,” Danfield said, jabbing me with his elbow. Ready? I was going to blow these fucking Bears off the fucking ice. We were about to do a flying line change when Turner iced the puck, so that gave us a chance for an orderly line change. So Danfield, Gillespie and I skated out there, joined by our two defensemen, Cole and Parker.

I lined up with a Bear and he stared at me. “I'm gonna eat your lunch you rookie punk,” he said.

“You'll be sucking my dick later fag,” I said. His eyes flew open just as the puck dropped, and I flipped it to Danfield and tore past this goon, knocking him out of my way. Danfield passed it forward to Gillespie and I slowed my pace to make sure I wasn't offside, and then the three of us breezed into the Cal zone. Their center slammed up against me, but I was fresh and charged up, so I stood my ground, firmly entrenched in front of the net. I watched Gillespie shoot the puck and it deflected off the goalie's stick right to Danfield. Danfield caught the puck on his stick and shot it toward the net, a beautiful shot. The Cal goon moved away from me to block it, giving me the perfect opportunity. I pushed him out of the way, angled my stick, and deflected the puck right into their goal.

The horn went off and the crowd went wild. I felt like I was back at University School, like that goal I'd scored against Shaker and Cam. Danfield and Gillespie came over to tackle me, as did Cole and Parker. The score was 2-1 now. We skated proudly back to the bench, smirking at the ineffective seniors.

“Good goal, Carrswold. Nice assist, Danfield,” the coach said gruffly.

“Thanks Coach,” we chimed together. I looked up in the stands and saw the pride on the faces of my family and it just fueled me on. After that we struggled to keep them from scoring, and managed to even it up. A tie game. There were three minutes left in the game when one of the Cal goons boarded Parker. He didn't get up, and that freaked us out. We sat there on the bench, watching nervously as the coach and the team doctor went out to check on him.

We waited and watched, our rage growing, fuming that those bastards would dare to take one of our guys down like that. He was down on the ice for almost five minutes before they helped him up and escorted him back to roaring cheers from the crowd. We stared nervously as he approached the bench.

“You OK?” Turner asked.

“Just shook up. Motherfuckers,” Parker said.

“Alright, we've got a power play for the rest of the game. They've given him a double minor. So don't fuck it up with revenge bullshit. You want to piss them off, score goals,” the coach said. “Carrswold, you're on the power play squad.”

I stared at him, shocked for a minute, but then followed a grinning Turner out. He was stacking us, putting an extra forward out. We had to score now. “Let's kick some ass,” Turner said. “You're on right wing Carrswold.” I moved over there automatically.

Turner lost the face-off but Cal blew their first pass and gave us possession. The puck went to the left wing, LeBrand, and he took it in, mobbed by Bears and followed by us. Then, with an amazing pass, he shot it across the ice and right onto my stick. I was there, in front of the goal, with the puck on my stick, and I shot it. The puck flew at the goalie and bounced off his pads, but before I could even get pissed at myself, Turner got the rebound and knocked the thing over the goalie's right shoulder. The horn went off again, and we'd just gotten the go-ahead goal.

“Fucking awesome shot Carrswold,” Turner said as he slapped my back.

“You made the goal, boss,” I told him. Then we were mobbed by the others on the ice, then by our bench. The last two minutes were uneventful, with us just trying to maintain our lead while Cal, still shorthanded, didn't have the manpower to overcome our defense. I sat on the bench and watched the seconds tick down, slowly, so agonizingly slowly, until the horn went off, the game was over, and we'd fucking won!

We all went apeshit, rushing out onto the ice and just hugging each other like idiots. Then we did the sportsmanship walk, where we filed by Cal and fist-bumped their players. Sometimes when a game was over, everyone was cool, but this was Cal, and we were blood rivals, so we all gritted our teeth and glared at each other.

“So where's the party tonight?” Gillespie asked.

“Dunno yet,” Turner said. “Probably in Lag.” I was so anxious to get out of there I didn't even wait for the details. I didn't really care about that. I could party later. I wanted to see my family. I wanted to see Cody. They were waiting for me in the lobby.

There was Robbie, the first one to hug me. “I'm so proud of you! You were awesome.” I sank into him, into his soft body that made me feel so safe and so loved. Brad was next, his hugs were different. They were more like a battery charger, giving me strength. Then Stef. His hugs were sexy, so sexy that I grabbed his ass and made him giggle. JP was there then, so much like Brad, and then it was JJ's turn.

“You played really well!” he said. “That was fun!”

I laughed. “You think so? You want to play hockey instead of figure skating?” I teased.

“Hardly,” he said, the disdain in his voice cracking me up.

Then there was Cody. I smiled at him for only a second before I was in his strong arms. I should have broken the hug off, but I was so glad to see him. “I missed you so much,” I said.

“I missed you too. I'm sorry I haven't been up. I wanted you to have time to settle in.” He understood me, he understood everything. We just stood there, staring at each other, until JP interrupted our gazing session.

“Matt, I took the liberty of arranging dinner for you and your teammates, if you'd like,” JP said. Wow. Was that generous or what? I headed over to Turner, who was flirting with some of the girls who hung out hoping to snag a hockey player. Puck Bunnies, we called them.

“JP just invited us all up for dinner,” I said. As if on cue his stomach growled, cracking me up.

“Excuse me ladies,” he said gallantly, and headed over to say hello to JP. Turner was a handsome guy, a really handsome guy. He actually looked a lot like Brad, with dark brown hair, green eyes, and really chiseled features. “Thank you for the invitation,” he said. “We wouldn't want to impose.”

“If it were an imposition, I wouldn't have invited you,” JP said smiling.

“Well then, we'll see you there,” he said, turning to get the team together. I wasn't sure what the plans were, but an invite from JP, professor and benefactor, was like a command performance. He'd unwittingly pissed off some puck bunnies though.

We headed back to Escorial and I made Cody ride with Cole and me. Cole was super-quiet, as I expected.

“So is Matt pissing you off yet?” Cody joked with him.

“Nope,” he said.

“He's used to me,” I said. “I catch him sniffing my jock every once in a while.”

“You wish,” Cole said, loosening up a bit. Still, it was an awkward drive to Escorial. I left Cole with the team and dragged Cody off to my room.

“You need to eat,” he teased.

“I know what I want to eat,” I said with a leer. I wanted to be with him so bad I couldn't stand it. We got to my room and our clothes flew off, then he was on me, and in me. Feeling him moving inside me was heaven, sheer heaven. He had me on my back, with his arms wrapped around my legs as he shoved his big dick in me. I lay there, glorying in the feel of him, of being one of him.

I heard a noise and turned toward the door to see Turner, Gillespie, LeBrand, and Danfield standing there, staring at us, their mouths open in shock. My first reaction was to freak out, to push Cody off of me and to hide. But he felt so good, and I wanted him so bad, I ignored them. They'd seen it anyway; let them finish watching the show if they wanted. I felt my load building, and that derailed all rational thought, and then I exploded, a massive orgasm, dousing my chest, my face, and my abdomen with one of my biggest loads ever.

Cody slowed his pace and grinned at me. “Your turn stud,” I said. His grin got bigger, his pace got faster, and then he blasted his load inside me.

Only afterward, as I lay there in bed with him on top of me, stroking his beautiful blond hair did the reality of what happened dawn on me.

“What's wrong?” he asked. He knew my moods, knew me so well.

“We had an audience,” I said somberly.

“Brian?” he asked.

“No, four of my teammates,” I said.

“Fuck. Are you serious? I'm so sorry. Fuck!” He was really upset, way more upset than I was.

“It had to happen eventually. And if I had to do it all over again, I still would have made love to you,” I said. He leaned in and kissed me, and I felt my heart surge with emotion. “Let's take a shower and face the music,” I told him.