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    Mark Arbour
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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.
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Bloodlines - 50. Chapter 50

March 30, 1999

There was a crowd at the meeting, with people sensing drama in the air. I was calm and collected, and for once it wasn't an act. I looked down at my arms as I sat in the chair waiting for the meeting to start; at how nice and tanned they were from a Spring Break spent lounging around in Malibu on the beach. I was relaxed and rested, really rested, for the first time in a long time. I looked sideways at Matt and he winked at me. It was amazing how quickly he was recovering. In a little over two weeks, he had a lot of his stamina back, not all of it, but a lot of it. He was together enough to go back and finish up the classes he'd missed when he was out, so it was like a reduced load for him this quarter. He only had to make up the things he hadn't completed in the winter. Jack had been a little nervous about that, but I thought it was a good idea. It kept him busy and gave his mind something to focus on.

Matt leaned over in his wheelchair and kissed me on the neck, then whispered in my ear. “I'm ready.”

I pushed him away. “Ready for what?” I asked, laughing.

He moved back to my ear. “Ready for you to fuck me,” he said. I swallowed hard and felt my dick rising.

“Stop it asshole, or you'll make me tent when I go up to talk,” I said. But I smiled anyway. We'd been picking up the pace of what we did, but it was still me on top, doing the work. And I liked that, I really did, but I looked forward to the day when he could take charge and really fuck me, or when he could let me inside him. And it seemed like that day had come. “Did Jack say it was OK?”

“I have to ask my doctor to fuck?” he asked me, teasing.

“When you almost dropped dead, yeah, you have to ask him,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“He said it was OK.”

“When did you ask him?” I wondered when he'd found time to do that.

“I called him today.” He leaned in again and I tried to push him away, laughing. “I told him that I had to have your dick up my ass, and he said it was OK.” God, he was making me horny.

“Shut the fuck up. I have an election to win. If I make it, you're my First Bitch.”

“We'll see who the bitch is later,” he teased back. It was so fun to be with him when he was alive and vital like this. “Too bad I'm not better,” he said as he looked around. “I could fuck you up some votes.”

“Horn dog. I'm gonna win without your dick this time.” Then I thought about it and smiled.

“What?” he asked.

“I'm so relaxed, and so happy, that if I don't win this, it really won't be a big deal,” I said, and found that I meant it.

“Wade Danfield, who never loses at anything, who never even gets a ‘B’, that Wade Danfield doesn't give a shit if he loses or not?” he said taunting me.

“Nope, that Wade Danfield doesn't. I have my priorities back in line now, and they're focused on doing my talk, getting food, and getting laid.” Then it dawned on me that part of his flirting was intended to relax me, and I found that mildly irritating. Still, a Danfield knows when to pick his battles, and this wasn't one of them.

A really handsome guy walked in and attracted everyone's attention. He wasn't quite 6' tall, had a very slim build, with narrow shoulders and a waist I could probably wrap my hands around. His dark brown hair was longer and seemed to frame his face in a dramatic style, accenting his piercing green eyes. This guy had to be a model, he looked that good. I thought of that guy at Escorial, Lou. He could rival Lou in looks. His clothes were skin tight, accenting his pecs and biceps. He was hot and he knew it. “Who the fuck is that?” Matt asked.

“Calm down, Romeo,” I said, imitating the nurse in the hospital.

Peter smiled at him. “That's Sergio. You'll want him on your side. It shouldn't be too hard to do. Just fuck him.”

“See, you may need my dick to win,” Matt joked. I gave them both dirty looks.

“Very funny,” I said. I looked at Sergio; I couldn't stop looking at him. He was so pretty.

“You're not going to dump me for some pretty boy, are you?” Matt teased. That freaked me out until I realized he was giving me shit.

“Not as long as you keep me satisfied,” I challenged. He laughed. I pivoted in my chair and found my face right in front of Sergio's crotch.

“I don't think we've met. I'm Sergio,” he said. He put his hand in front of me and I took it, using it to pull myself up without pulling him down, an achievement since he seemed light.

“Wade Danfield,” I said, blasting him with my smile. “This is my boyfriend, Matt Carrswold.” He looked at Matt and Matt looked at him, two wolves who knew the game. It was inevitable that Matt would fuck him, I thought, and I was truly amazed that that didn't bother me.

“You heard about the rules, right?” Sergio flirted. “If you're going to be in the club, you have to fuck me.”

I laughed. “That sounds like a benefit, not a requirement.” He raised his eyebrow. “Matt's been pretty sick, but he's recovering. When he's better, how about if the two of us take you on the ride of your life.”

It was hilarious to see this player totally freak at the thought of being with both of us. “Let me get my strength back, Sergio, and I'll make you cum like you've never cum before,” Matt said in his sultry voice.

“Now that's an offer I'll take you up on,” Sergio replied, looking back and forth between Matt and me. “Rumor has it you're running for the big job.”

“I am,” I told him.

“You've got my support, as long as you honor your promise.”

“Not a problem,” I said as I smiled and sat back down.

“You serious?” Matt asked me.

“Yeah,” I said. “That OK with you?”

“I guess. I just figured that would freak you out,” he said.

I leaned in and kissed him on the lips gently, then moved my mouth to his ear. “What you and I have is so much deeper than anything that twink could offer either one of us. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said enthusiastically. “You are so gonna fuck me tonight.” We laughed, cut off when Jason called the meeting to order.

“We'll be nominating officers this week. We'll start with nominations for President, then Vice President, Secretary, and then finally, Treasurer,” Jason said. This whole process was kind of strange, but I was the newcomer here, so I just went along with things. Some dork nominated Jerry, while another guy nominated Peter, a cute lesbian nominated Patricia, and Sergio nominated me. How appropriate.

I figured that they'd let us talk in alphabetical order, which would put me first, but Jerry jumped up and pretty much stole the podium from poor Jason. He rambled on about how we needed to take on a major role in the national ‘gay agenda’ as he called it. He portrayed a club of activism, a club that would be more appropriate for our Cal friends up in Berkeley. “I have been active in this club since I got here two years ago. I have worked hard to help build it up, and I strongly feel that it is my time to shine, and to lead us forward,” he said, in an unsurprisingly melodramatic mode. In other words, he had earned the job, and it was his by right. Then he paused, as if trying to decide whether to go on or not.

He stared at the crowd, then at me. “You know the other people here, those that are running for this position. Well, all except for Wade Danfield. He's a welcome addition to our club, but he's new. We don't know him yet, and he doesn't know us. His father has been one of the most aggressive gay-bashers in the Senate. Who is to say he doesn't secretly share his father's views? Maybe he's a plant? Maybe he brought Stefan Schluter in here to drop gift cards in our hands to buy us all off, like we're a bunch of whores.” I felt my anger rising, but I'd seen my shithead of a father take verbal punches like this and remain impervious, so I did the same thing. “I'm not saying that he is, but we just don't know him that well yet.” He gave me this smarmy look that was trying to be sympathetic but just came off as being incredibly phony.

Matt was seething next to me. The volcano, I thought, and the humor of that and his rage stabilized me. “Don't worry,” I said as I leaned in. “He's just pissed off because he's losing.”

I was next. I knew how to speak to groups, another part of being a Danfield. I had grown up in public, and I'd been really active in high school clubs, so I knew the drill. “I'll keep this brief,” I told them. “As Jerry said, I'm new here. I don't have the tenure that Jerry has. But I don't think that gives him the right to stand up here and suggest that I'm a fraud. I came out publicly last month, and made a clear statement about who I am. My emergence as a gay man has helped squelch some of my father's more obnoxious views, not the other way around. But that's politics; it's a game I'm used to.” I looked right at him. “What is really inexcusable are your comments about Stefan. He came here as a favor to me, to show his support to our club and the GLBT community here. He answered our questions, even when they were personal and painful, hoping those revelations would help us. And then he gave everyone a hundred bucks to spend at Macy's. What kind of asshole would take a gift from a man like that and then spit on him? And then call all the members of this club a bunch of whores? Are you a whore?” I asked a random member. “Are you?” I asked another. I glared at Jerry, channeling my anger into my performance. “Any man who does that isn't fit to be in a position of leadership in this club.” He was so stunned, his mouth hit the floor.

I changed my tone. “I'm not a whore either. Although I might be tempted to cheat on my boyfriend with Sergio.” That got a laugh, and Sergio smiled at me, relishing the attention. “But what's important is our vision for this club. I think our focus should be on the Stanford community. There are national groups that are much more effective than we will ever be at tackling national issues. I would rather see us trying to improve acceptance of our GLBT members on campus, where we can make a big difference, than impotently raging at the machine. I've been raised on politics, and I understand how the system works. My father is a Senator, albeit a sleazy one.” That got a laugh. “I know where we can be effective, and where we can't. If we want to impact the national stage, we can help those groups that are working to do just that. Our focus should be on the people here at Stanford with us. With the guy sitting next to you in Calculus, or the girl sitting next to you in English. Let's make it safer and easier for them to join us.” I flashed a smile as I concluded: “Plus that creates more members, and more potential dates.” That got another laugh.

I saw Jerry, his eyes glaring daggers. He'd thought he had this all locked up. I'd just blasted him to pieces in front of the whole club. As soon as he realized I was finished, Jerry jumped up and started to talk. “I wasn't aware we'd have time after we talked for a rebuttal,” I observed.

“You're right. You don't,” Jason said, shutting Jerry down.

Next up was Patricia. “Thank you for nominating me, but I'm going to have to decline. I think Wade will make a great President, and I support him 100%. He gives our club a new face, and he'll be able to open doors and gain entry into places we haven't been able to go before.” Peter said the same thing, adding that he thought I was a nice guy, and handsome too, making me blush.

Peter and Patricia were both running for VP, as was the idiot who nominated Jerry. After we spoke I eyed Professor Whist, over in the corner with his staid expression. He was up to something; I just didn't know what yet. After that we socialized until it ended as was required, so it was late by the time we finally headed back to Escorial.

“So when do you want to move back into Lag?” I asked Matt. I liked being at Escorial, but it was convenient to be on campus.

“Jack wants me to stay there for a couple more weeks at least, so Anthony can keep an eye on me,” he said. “Don't you like it there?”

“I like it there. I like it a lot. It just doesn't feel like home since most of our stuff is still at Lag,” I said.

“So move it up here,” he said.

“You asking me to move in with you?” I teased.

“Yeah,” he said, and leaned over to kiss me. We got back to the house and headed straight to our room, neatly dodging everyone else. I stripped off all of my clothes, smiling at him while he watched me, then he stood up from the wheelchair and did the same thing. He had lost a little bit of his muscle tone, not much, just a little bit, but somehow that just made him sexier. He got into bed and I followed him, lying on top of him but to his side. I leaned in to kiss him and felt his arms wrap around me, and they felt so strong and so firm, like they had before. “Make love to me,” he said.

He rolled over onto his side, facing away from me, and I pushed him onto his stomach, moving my mouth down his back to his ass. I teased him then, licking all along his crack, going deeper only ever-so-gradually. He spread his legs wide, begging me to rim him, to explore him with my tongue, but I made him wait, made him really want me. When I got there, when I played with his cute little pucker, his moans became almost roars as he thrust back into my mouth, begging me for more. “Please,” he whimpered.

I moved him back onto his side and grabbed the lube, getting him ready and making sure my dick was slicked up. I moved up to him and gently pushed in. “Aaah,” he said, but I was too focused on the pleasure I was getting, the feeling of his tight little hole wrapped around me. I started moving in and out of him slowly, both to be gentle and to keep myself from blowing too soon.

“You feel so good, so fucking good,” he moaned as I moved in and out of him.

“I love you so much,” I said, and felt tears in my eyes. “God, how I love you.” I felt my body take over then, felt him move with me in perfect rhythm as we worked together to prove how much we loved each other. I reached around and gently stroked his dick in time with my thrusts. There was still lube on my hand from when I spread it on my own dick, so I ended up lubing him as well. He moaned as my hand slid up and down on his pole, his moans getting more intense as I felt my own orgasm rise. “I'm gonna cum Matt,” I managed to say, right before I blasted in him.

He let out a primal scream, part shriek, part roar, as he came with me, his dick expanding and throbbing in my hand as he blew his load all over the bed. It was so intense, so meaningful, and so long; I felt like I would never stop cumming, not that I ever wanted to stop. When I was done, I was so weak, so drained, that I collapsed onto my back, panting and gasping for breath. He rolled over and lay on top of me like I had lain on top of him so many times before and it was wonderful. I understood now why he liked this. The intimacy was incredible.

“It is so good to be healthy enough to fuck,” he said, with his adorable grin. I was never going to win a fight with this guy.

April 6, 1999

If I'd truly been calm last week, that serenity had completely gone, not that anyone else would notice. I had snapped into full political mode, working the crowd like I'd seen my parents do for years. It was funny, but most of the members just asked me who I knew in Washington, and wondered why I hadn't blown the President instead of that fat chick. They were pretty funny. I had been moving through the group, just talking to people as they appeared in front of me, when I noticed that it was pretty crowded tonight. I'd only been coming to these meetings for a few weeks, so I wasn't the best judge of the situation, but it sure looked like there were a lot of new members here.

Peter came up to me, looking really nervous. “Dude, they're stacking the deck.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“These people who are here tonight, they're not really into the GLBT; they're in Whist's class. He promised them extra credit if they'd make the meeting tonight. I talked to that one guy over there,” he said, gesturing off toward the door. The guy had the body and build of a basketball player. “We were buds freshman year, before I came out.” He grimaced when he said that.

“Was he a dick to you?” I asked, a little pissed.

“No, he was fine. He just sort of moved away from me. We'd do shit together before, like have lunch, but after that, he kept his distance. He wasn't an asshole, he just kind of ignored me,” Peter said sadly. Then he pulled himself out of the tangent I'd taken us on and got us back on track. “Anyway, he's getting his ass kicked in Whist's class, so he jumped at the chance for some extra points.”

“Still, took some balls for these guys to come here,” I told him. “I'll try to think of something.” I looked at my watch. Forty five minutes before the meeting officially started. I gave JP a quick call on my cell phone.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, after the usual pleasantries.

“I need some advice,” I said. I'd grown to rely on his mind more and more. He didn't have my political instincts, but he had a way of sniffing out the problems in a plan and coming up with ways to fix them.

“I'm flattered,” he said, and probably meant it. “Go on.”

“Professor Whist flooded the meeting with new members. Probably about a third of the people are his students. He's giving them extra credit to show up,” I told him.

“That's interesting,” he said. He paused for a moment, presumably to think. “There's really nothing we can do about it unless he uses extra credit to tell them how to vote. Watch for that,” he warned.

“I will,” I told him, and wandered off to work the crowd. Most of Whist's students were pretty cool, and I'd actually seen some of them at the parties on campus. They seemed comfortable around me, and I told myself cynically it's because as long as they didn't think about where I let other guys put their dicks, they could pretend I was straight. It occurred to me that if I worked these guys, they might just vote for me.

I looked around for Matt, but he wasn't here yet. Just thinking about him made me smile. As far as sex went, he was completely healed. It seemed like my life had been one continuous fuck the last week, and it was awesome. The only fly in the ointment was his libido. Or maybe it was mine. But he was insatiable, and I was pretty much ready to slow down to a more, I don't know, normal pace? I mean, I think getting each other off a couple of times a day is pretty good, but not good enough for Matt. He was a challenge to keep up with, and I knew deep down that I wouldn't be able to do that forever.

Then I got pissed at myself. Here I was, in a crowd of people I needed to get on my side, doing nothing but whining to myself because my boyfriend was too fucking horny. I pulled myself out of that quickly, and looked over at Professor Whist, chatting away happily with his students. Then I felt the adrenaline rush, the rush of an idea. The rush of power.

I strolled up to him and his students and joined in the conversation, really pissing off Jerry, who was there with him. “Do you have a moment, Professor?” I asked.

He glared at me, being rude so the students would know he didn't like me. “A moment, and no more,” he said, in a most unfriendly way. We walked into the corner alone. “What do you want?” he snapped.

“I want to know whether you plan to tell your students how to vote tonight?” I asked him in my best JP voice.

“I really don't have to answer to you for anything,” he said with a sneer. “They can draw their own conclusions, but I'm sure they're under no illusions about my opinion.”

“That's a pretty sneaky way to avoid a direct conflict with the faculty guidelines,” I observed calmly.

“I think you'll find it difficult for a student,” he said that word with a sneer, “to incite an investigation of a faculty member, volunteering his time for outside school activities, based on some idle accusations that his general attitudes swayed an election.” He had obviously thought this through and was very proud of himself.

“I personally had no intention of pursuing this matter through the faculty committees,” I told him just as confidently. “I just want you to know that this action you've taken has escalated this whole thing to a new level.”

“Are you threatening me?” he asked, really pissed now.

“I don't recall making any threats,” I told him obliquely. “I was just talking to my father today,” I said, re-directing the conversation and lying at the same time. If I never saw my father again I'd be thrilled. “It seems that the bill funding the arts has made it to the Senate and is in mark-up. You do know what that is, don't you?”

“I know what that is,” he snapped.

“Good. Then you'll understand that my father's regrettable position on funding the arts gives him a bit of leverage with that bill,” I told him. I didn't smile in his face, but I wanted to. Someone like him, an Associate Professor at a Research I Institution like Stanford, lived and died on publications and grants. I'd just threatened to dry his grant pool up.

He glared at me. “Very funny. Go ahead. Do your worst.” He was bluffing.

“Professor, you misinterpret my comments. I was merely sharing news with you. Interestingly enough, I was at a dinner a few years back and one of the members of Congress was talking to a Senator about how he had wanted to punish an individual professor for his pro-choice viewpoints. Sadly, they couldn't think of a way to cut off funding for that individual, so they just cut it off for that whole department.” His mouth hit the floor.

“You'd hurt your own school? Some Cardinal you are!” he spat.

“As I said, I've made no threats, Professor,” I told him calmly. “I thought we were just chatting. But I do think that it would be appropriate for you to make sure your students know you have no bias in this contest, and I think that, under the circumstances, secret ballots are appropriate. You'll also understand that I'll want someone I can trust helping to count the votes.” He stared at me, the hatred pouring out of his eyes. I just nodded and walked off.

A few minutes later I saw him off in the corner talking to a very animated and pissed-off Jerry. Jerry was the secretary, so the ballots and election should be his prime responsibility. And he sure as fuck didn't want a secret ballot. I sensed a disturbance, and felt like I was Obi-Wan Kenobi and I was in a Star Wars movie. “There is a disturbance in the Force,” I said to myself playfully.

Then I saw what caused it. Matt had arrived, and he was being escorted by Stef and JP. I felt myself grinning and couldn't stop. I wanted to charge over to the door, but I forced myself to walk calmly, still talking to people along the way. I got there and gave Matt a kiss on the cheek. No need to freak out the straight people here. “Thanks for coming you guys!”

“It is my pleasure,” Stef said. He was about to be mobbed, even more by Whist's students than the GLBT Club members. “I think I will socialize, and stop to talk to Benjamin.” He had that evil smile.

“He's all pissed off. I played a little hard ball with him,” I said sheepishly.

“What did you do?” JP asked.

“He was intimating that he could control the way his students voted in this election, and I was intimating that I might be able to control whether his department gets any Federal Grant money,” I said. Stef started giggling, while JP smiled at me proudly.

“You're awfully good at this,” JP said, with his cute grin.

“Damn right,” Matt said. He was walking now, no need for a wheelchair. “I'm going to go tease up some votes for you.” I saw him walk over to a group of gay guys and start talking to them, so I meandered over to hear his spiel.

“Hey Wade,” he said cheerfully, putting his arm around me only briefly. “They don't believe I had a freaking tube in my chest.”

“I didn't say that,” one of the guys objected nervously.

“Fine, be that way,” Matt said. “I'll prove it.” He pulled his shirt up, showing off his six pack that hadn't quite faded away, and his chest with its still bulging pecs and super-cute nipples. His shirt was pulled up enough to give them a flash of his dark blond underarm hair, and for some reason that was so fucking sexy I wanted to drop to my knees and blow him right there. The guys just gaped, lusting blatantly. It was too funny. I smiled and wandered off to hang around with Stefan. I figured the more I was seen with him, the better.

“Well there you are,” he said to me as I walked up. He put his arm around me in a friendly way. “These young men are not interested in seeing me; they just want to know if I brought them presents again.” He was teasing, but it freaked them out.

“That's not true,” one of them said, really freaked out. Stef gave the guy his killer smile and winked, playing it perfectly. The guy figured out he was being played and got his game on. “I'm wondering if you like younger guys.”

Stef and Matt were the best wolves I'd ever seen, and tonight Stef was in rare form. “Of course I do. I like all guys. I even like some girls,” he said, winking at the lesbian in the group. She giggled, which cracked me up, since she was pretty butch and I never thought I'd see her act so girly. But Stef was on a mission, a mission to torture Whist. He headed over to that group; the same one Whist had been in before, the one with Jerry.

“Why Benjamin, how fantastic to see you again so soon. How lucky for me! It had been years, and then I see you twice in a month!” Stef exclaimed.

Whist looked at him, trying not to act too pissed off. “Good evening,” he said stiffly.

“You seem so uptight. You really must try and relax more,” Stef flirted. The others around him were trying not to laugh at their rigid professor. Stef raised his hand up and out toward his bodyguard, who brought him a package. “I brought you a present.”

“I don't want a present,” Whist said. The students looked at him curiously, and that really pissed him off.

“You would refuse my gift? It really is not much, and I promise you I can afford it,” Stef said, pretending to pout. It was getting harder for the group not to laugh.

“What is it?” Whist asked, taking the package. He opened it and pulled out a jacket.

“It is a camel hair jacket. I figured I would see if we might wean you off your tweed once in a while,” Stef said, smiling at him.

“I like my tweed jackets just fine,” he growled, and handed Stef back his package.

“That may be. I wonder if they like you. They do not look like it,” he teased. Whist glared at Stef and stormed off while the students just laughed.

“Guess you'll have to take it back,” one of the guys said. “A shame too. It's a nice jacket.”

“Then you should have it,” Stef said, handing it to him.

“Uh, that won't fit me,” the guy said. He was tall, like Whist, but skinny. Whist was a little portly.

“I think you will find that it does,” Stef said playfully. The guy slipped it on and it fit him perfectly. He'd bought a jacket way smaller, knowing Whist would turn it down. Now everyone was roaring. Whist had stormed toward the door, and I was kind of wondering whether he'd leave again, but he seemed to be looking for someone. I walked back over to Matt to find him flirting with those same guys.

“You trying to use your dick to get me votes,” I teased.

“That would work,” one of the guys said. One of the other guys looked past Matt and I toward the door and just stared, really amazed.

“What?” said the guy who wanted Matt (like they all didn't).

“I never thought I'd see Whist with a boyfriend, and a young, handsome one at that.” Matt and I pivoted around and looked toward the door. I felt Matt tense up. He was so transparent, his feelings so out in the open, but anyone could have recognized the emotion on his face now. It was extreme anger. I reached over and put my arm around him.

“Calm down. He just wants a reaction from you. Don't give it to him,” I whispered in his ear. “Besides, as hard as he tried to hurt you, it all worked out in the end, didn't it?”

He swallowed hard and we just watched as Professor Whist escorted Brian over to a chair next to his, their hands linked. I felt a presence behind me, that force thing again, and knew it was JP. The group we were with seemed to sense the tension, and vanished as if by magic.

“Well this meeting just got a whole lot more interesting,” JP said. “Are you OK?” he asked Matt.

“I'm going to try not to kill him,” Matt growled.

“That's a good plan,” he said, smiling.

Stef came up, his eyes sparkling, but not with their usual flirtatious twinkle, they sparkled with rage. “I thought I had chased him out of the state.”

“You are slipping in your old age,” JP teased, trying to get us all back to a calmer level.

“Old age?” Stef asked, pretending to be angry. “I will have to be more thorough next time.” He turned to Matt. “I am sorry he is here. Please do not let it upset you. He is not worth it.”

Matt grinned, pulling himself out of his black mood. “Wow JP, you must have been pretty amazing for Whist to track down your doppelganger.” JP blushed and the rest of us laughed. I glanced over at Brian and saw him looking at us hatefully. JP was right. Seeing us laugh and not react to him was pissing him off more than anything.

“I'd like to call this meeting to order,” Jason said. He had to say it a few times before the groups stopped talking. Gradually people took their seats, the straight people that were there clustered together as if to avoid being gang-raped by these crazed homosexuals. “Our first order of business will be to vote for next year's officers. We'll be passing out ballots, and we ask you all to mark them and put them in the box up here.” How they had gotten ballots printed up so fast was pretty stunning. I looked at my watch and realized that we were starting half an hour late. Guess that was why. Matt and I voted and took our ballots up to the box. Matt carefully avoided so much as looking at Brian, who was sitting with Whist almost next to the ballot box. I looked around the room and figured that there were about fifty people there.

“You're going to win,” Matt whispered. “Then we'll celebrate.”

I looked over at him and our eyes met, and I realized how completely committed I was to this guy. Hyper-charged libido and all, he was the one for me. And suddenly winning this stupid election seemed a lot less important than making sure he was OK, both physically and emotionally. I stole a brief glance at Brian, and wondered how we'd manage to get that guy out of our lives once and for all.

  

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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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.
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I don't know what would be worse for Whist and Bryan, getting JP really mad or pissing Stef off; to do both at the same time is just suicidal of their part. I can see that Whist and Jerry Kohl had planned some shennanigans but Wade has headed that off. I am going to be that they backfire on them but we will see...

 

Matt is so much more like Brad than Robbie. He just can't control his anger without some healp when someone had hurt him or those he cares for...

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How would Whist even know Brian? I know college GLB clubs have drama and thrive on it, but it's like this is North and South Korea having a meeting.

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