The Freshmen - 7. Chapter 7

August 10, 2004

Escorial

Palo Alto, CA

Will

I lay in bed with Travis, totally wrapped up in him both physically and emotionally. An alarm went off, surprising me, but he reached over and turned it off. “It is 12:01, the bewitching hour,” he said, speaking like he was Boris Karloff in a scary movie.

“Should I be nervous?” I asked. “What happens at the bewitching hour?”

“You must get up, put on your robe, then allow me to guide you to the Chamber of Oaths,” he said, his voice sounding ominous. He was such a fun and playful dude.

“Then I will don said garment and follow your lead willingly,” I said, trying to mimic him. We both got up and put on robes, then he led me out the door of our room and across the hall.

He entered the room almost reverently, and I was pretty surprised to see what looked like rolling clothes racks with sheets hung over them, designed to create this sort of stage area. The lighting had been turned down so it was damn near dark, but it got better as my eyes adapted to it. “You will remove your robe and await the King.”

“The King?” I asked.

“The King,” he repeated. I chuckled at him and shed my robe while he walked off to a corner of the room.

“Where am I supposed to stand?” I asked. One of the ceiling spotlights got brighter and he appeared. He was wearing an ornate ceremonial-type robe, which made me guess he’d had help from either Stef or Grandmaman, and on his head he wore a crown, only it was one of those crowns you got at Burger King when you were a kid. I laughed hysterically for a minute, then his dour look finally helped me get my act together. “Your Majesty,” I said, bowing.

“Oh unworthy plebe,” he said. “I am the King of DTRs, and I have come to issue a ruling on how your relationship with Travis Buck will be conducted.”

“I am at Your Majesty’s mercy,” I said, and knelt before him. I reached up and grabbed his dick through the robe, but he slapped my hand away.

“It is sacrilegious to disrupt this ceremony by molesting the King,” he proclaimed.

I laughed for a bit, while he tried not to. “I will avoid molesting Your Majesty during this ritual.”

“William, you have consistently avoided committing to defining the terms of your relationship with Travis Buck. I am here at Mr. Buck’s request to do that for you,” he said imperiously.

“I have not done that,” I objected.

“You will not defy the King!” he said, almost a shout, with his voice thundering through the room. He was just so fucking adorable.

“Alright, Your Majesty, please explain how my relationship with Travis Buck will be determined,” I said.

“You will be free to have sex with whomever you want, as will Travis Buck, provided you both adhere to three conditions,” he intoned.

“I would ask that Your Majesty delineate these conditions,” I said reverently.

“Condition one. Neither one of you will share any intimacy with Mr. Zachary Hayes beyond a simple hug,” he proclaimed.

“I have already pledged to uphold that rule, and I will pledge to do so again here, in front of Your Majesty,” I said, even as I continued to kneel before him.

“When engaging in sexual relations with persons other than Mr. Buck, you must use a condom. Travis Buck must do the same,” he said, although his tone was a little less imperious. That was no big deal, and quite frankly, I was glad to have that rule in place.

“I will make that pledge as well, Your Majesty,” I said.

“And the final condition is that you must disclose to Mr. Buck, and he must disclose to you, any sexual encounters either of you have,” he said. I pondered what he was saying, because this had come out of the blue. That meant that every time I fucked a dude, I’d have to tell him, and every time he did, I’d have to hear about it. My mind rebelled against being that open, and risking having my feelings hurt by hearing about his fucking around, but I thought about it a bit and it started to make sense to me. He was setting this up so we had to be completely open and honest with each other, and he’d largely taken the stigma away.

“I can also pledge to adhere to that condition, Your Majesty,” I said.

“Then as you have vowed your consent, I must sanctify this agreement with the Ancient Relic of the Massive Cock,” he said, and pulled out a huge dildo. We were both laughing so hard we had to stop for a minute to get ourselves under control.

“I am willing to worship the Ancient Relic of the Massive Cock,” I pledged, laughing some more.

He took the big dildo and tapped it on my shoulders like he was knighting me, playfully smacked my head with it, then he lined it up to my mouth. “Worship the Ancient Relic of the Massive Cock.”

I let him slide the dildo into my mouth, and while it was uncomfortably huge, since I didn’t have to worry about my teeth, it wasn’t all that hard. He pumped it slowly in and out of my mouth, then dropped it and replaced it with his own hard dick. “This is much better than the Ancient Relic of the Massive Cock,’ I joked. I sucked on him for a long time, getting him so close then backing off, until I finally stopped and stood up. “Let’s finish this up in our room.”

He pulled off his crown and his ornate robe, then we both put on our bathrobes and walked back across the hall. We lay on the fake bearskin rug and slowly made love, making it last as long as we could, until we finally exploded in massive orgasms that were almost timed perfectly to go off at the same time. After some quick work with a towel, we climbed into the bed and lay on our sides, looking at each other. “You are so fucking cute it’s scary,” I said to him, making him smile shyly.

“There’s no reason you can’t make a serious talk fun,” he said.

“That was epic. It will live in my memory forever,” I said, and gave him a kiss. “I love you completely.”

“I love you just as much,” he said, almost a pledge, then got a bit nervous. “Are you okay with that?” I knew he was referring to the rules he’d laid out.

“Dude, I swore an oath on the Ancient Relic of the Massive Cock,’ I said seriously. “I don’t know how much more committed I can be.”

He laughed with me, then looked deep into my eyes. “I’m serious. Is that okay?”

“We’ve already agreed on Zach, so that was easy,” I said. “And I would never bareback you unless I knew I was safe, and I know you would do the same for me, but it was still nice to have that as a reminder and a pledge for both of us.”

“I thought so too,” he said. “What about the last condition?”

“That freaked me out at first, but only because I wasn’t expecting it; I actually think it’s a really good idea,” I said.

“You do?” he asked, a bit surprised. “Why?”

“Because when I envisioned our relationship being more open, I was always hoping that we’d both be secure enough in what we have that we can talk about our encounters with other dudes and not get jealous,” I said. “I think that condition sets a foundation for doing that.”

“A foundation?” he asked. He was annoyed, because he’d thought he’d found the magic bullet, and I was saying it was only a starting point.

“Yeah,” I said. “I get that it’s an awesome idea, and I’m totally on board, but I think the first couple of times we talk about other guys may be a little rough.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted?” he asked and seemed mad at me.

“Travis,” I said, and put my hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “I think it’s a good thing. I’m just saying it may take me a few times not to be jealous. It won’t derail our plan; I just think it may take a bit before we can do this and be truly relaxed.”

“I understand,” he said, and gave me a nice kiss. “I think you’re right.”

“I’m usually right,” I teased, and he responded by lunging forward and sucking on my neck until I pushed him away. “Are you okay with this?”

“I mean, I’m the one who created a set, costumes, and lighting to make the point,” he said, smiling at me.

“But is this what you want?” I asked.

He sighed and flopped on his back, so I moved up and lay on my side next to him, staring down at him while I draped my body over his right side. “Will, I told you that if it was up to me, we’d be together, and I wouldn’t need anyone else. But I also heard you when you talked about us being on opposite coasts and how hard this would be.” He seemed almost defeated.

“If I had a choice, that’s how I would want us to be,” I said.

“I thought you could love multiple people,” he objected, and started to get upset. “I thought you could have relationships with a bunch of other guys because they didn’t impact your relationship with the others.”

“I think that’s true,” I said. “The big difference is that while I can do that, I’d rather just be with you.”

“You mentioned that Turkey Day dump thing, and I’m fucking paranoid that’s what’s going to happen to us,” he said. I could have flamed him for that, for not trusting me, but that would be so wrong since he was really opening up to me and baring his soul. I could never deliberately hurt him.

“Travis,” I said firmly, and looked into his eyes so intensely he blinked. “That will not happen.”

“Why not?” he asked. He was sad and confused, and his eyes even looked a little watery.

“Because I’m pretty sure you are my soul mate,” I said. “All my dreams, all my fantasies, end up revolving around us being together.”

“I am absolutely certain that you are my soul mate,” he said, and stared back at me just as earnestly. I had never had such an intense bonding experience using just my eyes. We lay there, just enjoying the afterglow, when my phone rang.

I looked at the caller ID and frowned, then showed it to Travis. “Your father?”

I shook my head in annoyance and answered it. “What?” I asked.

“I realize that you probably don’t want to be bothered, but Stef and I would like to talk to you and Travis,” he said.

“When?” I asked.

“Now,” he said, letting a little snarkiness into his tone.

“I am in bed, trying to enjoy the afterglow, and you want me to get up and come meet with you?” I asked incredulously.

“I do,” he said. “I want to knock this out before we leave in the morning.”

I sighed. “Fine, but this better be good or the first half of your week in Greece is going to be hellish.”

“We’re in JP’s office,” he said, and ended the call.

“You have to go meet with them?” Travis asked, then when he saw how annoyed I was, he started laughing.

“No, we have to go meet with them,” I said, emphasizing the ‘we’. Not gonna lie, that was one of the more hilarious things I’d gotten to do to him.

“Fuck,” he said. We hauled ourselves out of bed, put on sweats and flip flops, and staggered down the hall to Grand’s office.

We walked into what seemed like the kind of scene you’d have at Goodwell, with Stef, Grand, and Dad still dressed from dinner. The only thing that was needed to complete the montage was for them to be smoking cigars. As soon as we walked in, they stopped talking and turned to look at us. “Thank you for interrupting your love orchestra to come meet with me,” Stef said, and got up to give us big hugs.

“Love orchestra?” I asked, giggling.

“You do not have sex like that, where all the various parts of your bodies merge together in a symphony?” he asked.

“That was a pretty good musical analogy for an orgasm,” I said thoughtfully, getting chuckles from the others. I looked over at Grand, who was sitting there stoically aloof from our conversation. “I wonder if you are not the mastermind of this plan?”

The look of surprise on his face was hysterical. “It is all Dad’s fault,” my father said, piling on. “Blame it on him.”

“It is unclear to me what action happened to arouse a need to determine blame, but I am quite confident it will not land on me,” he said in his stuffy way, which was too funny.

“We want to talk to you two about the $100 million needed to pay Big and Taylor,” Dad said abruptly, getting us back on topic.

“You just have to tell me where to wire the money, and it’s done,” Travis said, thinking they were calling us out for being deadbeats.

“We have discussed this,” Stef said, circling his hand to indicate that all three of them were involved. “We have decided to handle things a bit differently.”

“I am so sorry if this is causing you guys problems,” Travis said, totally freaking out.

“Relax,” I said to him. “This is not bad news.”

“How do you know that it is not bad news?” Stef asked. Dad rolled his eyes in an obvious way to indicate his frustration with Stef for going off on a tangent.

“Because you are too happy and they are too relaxed,” I said, gesturing at Grand and Dad.

“We’ve broken the Buck Industries holdings into parcels and have started marketing them,” Dad said.

“We did retain the parcels you said you were interested in acquiring,” Stef intervened, speaking directly to Travis.

“Thanks,” Travis said.

“The properties are worth a lot more than we paid,” Dad said, getting back on track.

“They are?” Travis asked. “Why?”

“I think that there are two factors,” Stef said. “The first is that they are now not part of a failing operation. I think the second and more important factor is that we have re-packaged them.”

“How did you do that?” Travis asked.

“I will give you an example. There was a property in Kern County that was a farm, growing I cannot remember what, and there were also oil wells on the land,” Stef said. “So we separated the farmland from the petroleum-producing lots, and found that increased the price substantially.”

“That’s incredible,” I said.

“That is what happens when you know what you’re doing,” Dad said, shaking his head at Curtis Buck. “The lady who is running it for us has put this plan into motion.”

“That was pretty smart,” I said, and almost started to ask if they’d make sure she was well-rewarded then shut my mouth. This was part of my pledge to not question people who had proven themselves already.

“I hadn’t been overly impressed with her during the takeover process, but she has really bloomed since then,” Dad said.

“So that’s great news, right?” Travis asked. “I’m glad you’re making money off of this deal.”

“We have decided that there will be enough profits from the sale of the properties to cover the $100 million you had pledged,” Stef said.

“Are you serious?” Travis asked, absolutely stunned, so much that his mouth fell open, leaving him gaping at Stef.

“That is really nice of you,” I said. “Thank you.”

Travis looked at me and then back at Stef. “I don’t know how to even express my gratitude. This is so much bigger than the money.”

“Travis,” Stef said, and put his hand on Travis’s arm. “You and Will led us to this opportunity. It is not uncommon to pay a finder’s fee for such an effort.”

“And when those not uncommon fees are paid, are they usually $100 million?” I asked. He frowned at me. “You are doing a really nice thing, and I want you to get the credit for it.”

“You’re welcome,” Dad said succinctly, which was so funny we all started laughing, or at least all of us but Travis.

Travis kind of staggered backward and ended up sitting on the couch. He put his head in his hands, and seemed completely distraught. Everyone else was looking at me weirdly, but I ignored them and sat next to Travis. “Are you alright?” I asked gently, as I rubbed his back. He nodded, and we stayed like that for about a minute then he picked his head up and wiped off his eyes.

He turned to look at me then gave me a huge hug. He broke off our hug and looked at Dad, Stef, and Grand. “I am sorry about that. I was just overwhelmed,” he said.

“It is not a problem,” Stef said, and ruffled Travis’s hair in an affectionate way.

“It is not, but I am wondering why you had that reaction?” Grand asked, ever the scientist, craving the explanation.

“I have lived most of my life where I could only rely on myself, and after Tom Buck died until the past six months, I’ve been in virtual isolation,” he said. “I have had no one I could count on, no one who had my back, no one that I trust. The only way I survived was to bury everything, to show no pain or happiness. That was the only way.” His voice was full of pain and bitterness.

“That seems to have changed,” I teased. He half smiled at me, then pushed me in a playful way.

His smile faded and he got serious again. “You’re right. It has changed. When I’m here, when I’m around you guys, I actually relax and don’t have to have my shields at maximum.”

“You are telling us that you feel safe here,” Stef said. “That is truly a wonderful thing.”

“And you are safe,” Grand asserted.

Travis got up and gave them all long hugs, then we thanked them about fifty times, and finally we were able to escape back to our room. I figured Travis would want to crash, but he was still pretty hyped up, which was my cue to fuck him again.

August 10, 2004

Harlem

New York, NY

JJ

I walked into the tacky building, got on the creaky elevator, and rode up to the fourth floor. I exited and felt my shoes scuffing against the hideous linoleum tile as I made my way to the office of my psychiatrist, Dr. Lawanda Jones. I was dreading this appointment because I knew what she would tell me. She would throw up all kinds of objections to me being with Kris, to him moving in, noting that relationships like this that started out too quickly would end up flaming out just as fast. I probably should have canceled, but then there was a chance I’d end up getting a bunch of crap from my family, who insisted that I continue to see these so-called mental health professionals. In the end, I went because I actually liked working with her. She was no-nonsense, and unwilling to put up with crap from anyone, even me.

I knocked on the glass window in the reception area and it opened, revealing a woman who was glaring at me. “There’s no sign-in sheet,” I said rudely.

“I’ll let her know you’re here anyway,” she said, and closed the window with a thud. It was kind of a secret battle between me and the staff to see who could be ruder to the other, the only unspoken rule being that we actually had to have a reason for our attitude. I’d caught them without the signup sheet, so that gave me the edge. Cue a win for me.

I’d just sat down and pulled out the mockup for the latest issue of Mode when the office door opened. “Jeremy,” Dr. Jones said firmly.

“You’re fast today,” I said with a smile, as I put the magazine away and followed her back to her office.

“I try to stay on schedule,” she said. “Today it worked.”

“Props to you,” I said. She eyed me more closely, and I felt like she was almost climbing inside my brain.

“You look different today,” she said dourly, then smiled. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were glowing.” I felt my face start to warm up as I blushed furiously, which got a sympathetic laugh from her. “Now you’re so red you really are glowing.”

“Very funny,” I snapped, but my mood was too good to stay bitchy. “I met someone.”

“The last time we talked you were going out with a woman named Susannah, correct?” she asked.

“That did not work out,” I said. She made me drag her through the days of my dying relationship with Susannah, culminating in the way she’d dominated my life.

“Did you try to tell her that her behavior bothered you?” she asked me.

“Not directly,” I said, knowing that she’d now pile the blame on me. “I would argue back when it became especially grating.”

“Then what caused you to end it?” she asked.

“Because it had damaged my reputation,” I said. “People were talking about us, and about the way she ran me and my life. I can put up with a lot of things, but being publicly humiliated is a deal killer.”

“You don’t seem overly upset that you two broke up?” she probed.

“It was nice in the beginning. I think she was using me to try to dive into the fashion scene here, and I helped her out. We had a good time, and seemed to be doing well, then she decided that she was going to totally run my life. She scheduled us so she controlled what I did, and it got to the point where she was questioning my fashion talent.”

“You are always very well dressed, so it would take a bold person to argue with you about that,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said, and lit up at her compliment. “I began to manage my own calendar, and to go to events by myself, and she became more obnoxious. The day I asked her to move out she was throwing a tantrum because I’d canceled one of my credit cards, the one she’d been using, and she was mad that it was declined when she was trying to buy a bunch of stuff at Louis Vuitton.”

“That’s pretty presumptuous,” she said. “Did you meet this new person before this happened?”

“His name is Kris. I met him at a gallery show the same night I found out that she had turned me into the biggest joke at the party,” I grumbled. “Right before our first date, John Carullo came to visit.”

“He’s the young man from Connecticut who lit your body on fire, if I recall,” she said, leering at me.

“He is,” I said, then got a little sad. “He asked to meet with me because he started dating someone up in Bristol; they were together, and that meant that we were through.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That must have been very hard on you.”

“It was not easy,” I said, and wiped away a tear. “I mean, I know I should be happy for him, but it’s really hard for me to do that.”

“Was it a really unpleasant confrontation?” she asked. It was like she thought I was as bad as Will.

“No,” I said. “He told me he was with another dude and that we were over. I told him that I needed some time to digest it, then I locked myself in my room until he left.”

“It is saying something that for you that that approach is non-confrontational,” she said, giving me shit.

“Whatever,” I said, because she’d annoyed me. “He knows me, and he knows how I am. He would have expected me to react that way.” I was not ready to sing kumbaya with Carullo yet.

“So tell me about Kris,” she said. And with that, it was like she’d opened the dam and the words gushed out. I told her how I’d met him at the gallery, how I’d called to ask him out, how we’d gone shopping, and took her through the short history of our relationship. She asked me some questions, but mostly let me talk. When I was done I sat there, then realizing that I would now have to listen to her pronounce judgment on me, I got nervous. “You seem really happy, happier than I think I’ve ever seen you.”

I blinked at that. “I am. I was lying in bed after we had sex, and I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt more content.”

“Yet I sense that you’re nervous,” she said.

I sighed. “I’m nervous because I’m worried that you’re going to tell me I’m moving too fast, and that only dating the guy twice before asking him to move in is the equivalent of relationship suicide.”

“You’re worried about what I’ll say?” she asked. “Honey, I am on your side. You do not have to worry about me.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“If I pulled out a bunch of statistics to show that relationships that start out fast usually end fast, would it make any difference? Would it change how you feel about Kris at all?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“That’s why I don’t do that,” she said, and chuckled. “The risk you run is that the friendship, which is the foundation of any relationship, doesn’t have time to develop, and then when you have problems it’s not there to keep you two from going off the rails.”

“So how do I fix that?” I asked.

“You got to this point pretty quickly. I’d try to keep things where they are, and focus on really getting to know each other,” she said.

“You don’t think this is going to end in disaster?” I asked.

“I have no idea whether it will or it won’t,” she said. “Regardless, I see no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy it now, when it is so much fun.”

“Will met him at a bar a few months ago, and ended up sleeping with him,” I said, truncating their whole Rolex controversy. “Kris is a big deal at the gay bars because he’s so handsome. I guess my big fear is that he can’t give that up.”

“That’s one of the reasons why going slower is sometimes better,” she said. “You’d get to know him well enough to know whether he’s honest when he tells you he doesn’t prowl around looking for someone else.”

“You mean it’s harder to trust him because I don’t know him all that well,” I concluded.

“More or less,” she said, because she didn’t like having her sentences simplified anymore than Grand did.

“What do I do if he does that? How do I handle that?” I asked, almost in a panic.

“If you spend all your time worrying that he’s cheating on you, how do you think your relationship will work out?” she asked me.

I grimaced at her logic. “Not very well.”

“Why?”

“Because he’ll know I don’t trust him, and he’ll decide I’m not worth putting up with,” I said.

“Do you trust him?” she asked.

I thought about that, and about the last two nights when we’d started to settle into a domestic routine. He’d called me around 5:00 to update me on his progress at work, then told me when he’d be home. And he’d gotten there when he’d said he would. He’d given me no reason not to trust him. “Yes,” I finally said.

“A relationship like this may be a little rockier than other ones, especially in the beginning, but I’m here to help you work things out,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said, then swallowed hard before going on. “You have really helped me through a lot of issues. I really appreciate it. Knowing you’re here when this gets challenging makes me feel so much better about it.”

“I’ll see you in a month. I’ll be looking forward to hearing how this goes,” she said. She handed me a card and wrote a number down on it. “That’s my personal cell phone number. If something comes up and you need me, you can call me.”

That was an amazing gesture on her part. I took it and put it in my wallet. “I’ll only use it if it’s important.” She nodded at me and I left, feeling even happier than I had before I’d gotten here.