Carter's Vanguard - 16. Chapter 16

The Campus Pride center was humming with conversation when Andrew and Robyn walked in. A small man with round glasses was frantically waving papers as he swept from one desk to another in obvious frustration. Every so often he leaned over a computer to punch something into it, only to walk away from it in disgust a few seconds later.

A large, old, pink couch was tucked back out of the way, the young man with the streak of white in his hair was busy talking was a pleasant young woman who seemed to be watching the guy with the papers and laughing occasionally. Another young man, slumped into a chair was moaning loudly that he was doomed. A couple of overly dressed super-trendy pseudoqueens were surfing on one of the other computers.

Andrew blinked at Robyn who shrugged.

It was a room filled with blazing stereotypes; it was like he had walked into a television show. He glanced up at a wall filled with quotes like: "If we bring in a prostitute do we have to pay her?" or "I only get to use three fingers?" Andrew looked over at Robin wondering what she had talked him into.

Andrew cleared his throat.

The pandemonium of the pride center stopped. It was like they all just froze for a second as big grins spread across their faces as everyone turned towards the newcomers. Andrew had the sudden realization that this must be the last thing a seal saw when it accidentally found itself surrounded by sharks.

The first "hey", broke the silence and sounded like a bomb going off. And within seconds everyone in the office was firing off a chorus of "heys", "hellos" and "hi's" in their direction. And almost as soon as they began, they fell back into an awkward silence as everyone looked at each other expectantly.

The guy who had been excitedly flapping papers tucked them under his arm as he smiled, "Hi, welcome to the pride center."

There was another awkward pause as Andrew looked to Robyn for a little help. She grinned and shrugged at him, happily just along for the ride. Andrew made a mental note not to rely on her in a crisis; she'd probably be too busy laughing at him to be of any use.

The two on the couch shrugged at each other and went back to listen to the morose one whine, as the guy in the glasses took them off to clean them, "I'm RJ, Arge for short. So what year are you in?" The question was directed towards Andrew; so far Arge hadn't even acknowledged there was a girl there.

"I'm Andrew, this is Robyn, we're both in Second," Andrew said, folding his arms.

"What program?" Arge was now leaning on a filing cabinet and smiling an awful lot, again not looking at Robyn. In fact he went so far as to angle himself so that his shoulder was to her and his body was directly facing Andrew's.

"Pre-law," Andrew said, drawing himself up. He didn't like the way this guy was looking at him--it was almost like he was leering. It started to make him feel uncomfortable, but he wasn't about to let that show.

"That's cool." Arge reached around Robyn to pick up a stack of volunteer forms, "Are you looking to help out, or are you just here for a GLBTQIA?"

Andrew gave a confused look over at Robyn who shrugged, equally as confused.

Arge smiled, "Gay, lesbian, bi, trans-gendered, two spirited, questioning, inter-sexual, and allied."

"That's a mouthful," Andrew said. "What's an inter-sexual?"

Arge just laughed at him, digging into his pocket and producing a button with a rainbow on it. "Here," he said clipping it to Andrew's chest, his hand lingering just a moment too long before he stepped back.

"Uh... thanks," Andrew said, looking down at the button and over to a grinning Robyn, vowing to remind her of her promise to save him from people trying to pick him up.

"So," Arge said, drawing a little closer, "are you single?"

Andrew blinked at the directness, and shook his head, "No, I have a boyfriend."

"Oh?" Arge made no sign of backing off, "How long have you two been together?"

"A year and a half," Andrew said, again folding his arms firmly.

That drew a shock from the room, and Robyn winked at him.

"A year and a half?" the guy on the couch asked. "That's like, a record."

Andrew smiled, glad that he was being engaged in conversation with a familiar face, and stepped past Arge, escaping his cornering and sitting down on one of the overstuffed chairs. Robyn grinned, wholly bemused by Arge's reaction, and sat down on the arm of Andrew's chair.

"I know you," one of the pseudoqueens said, looking up from his computer. "Didn't you use to go to South Carleton?"

Andrew nodded. "Yeah," he thumbed to Robyn, "we both did, actually."

"Andrew Highmore, or something," the young man said, flopping down onto the couch. "The gay hockey player."

"You're famous," Robyn observed with a smile.

Andrew glanced at her and back to the others, "Yeah, that's me."

"I'm Tyler." The pseudoqueen reached across to delicately shake Andrew's hand before flopping back onto the couch, dramatically wrapping his arm around the girl there, "This is Brandy, and that's Devon on the end."

Devon smiled as he tapped his temples--a warm smile--and Andrew grinned back, "Nice to finally meet you, Devon."

"So," Tyler chimed up in his small lisp, "do hockey skates hurt?"

Andrew turned in surprise, "Huh?"

"Have you ever had sex on hockey skates?" Tyler pressed, and from the look on his face he was being serious with the question.

"Don't mind him," Devon said with a grin. "He likes to ask strange questions. So was that your boyfriend I saw you with when you walked past the Lookout?"

Andrew smiled, "Yeah, that's my Will."

Arge had moved back to his papers, eyeballing Andrew like he was a piece of grade-A rib steak. Andrew studiously ignored him. Arge decided to try another tack, "So, you ever take him to the penalty box?"

Andrew stared at the abrupt question, again at a loss on how to respond. It was as if sanity had checked out of the room a long time ago. It was humorous, and Robyn was having a hard time trying to keep from laughing out loud. Andrew struggled to find answers to the latest question.

"I bet you didn't know," the other pseudoqueen said looking up from the computer, "that in nineteen-forty-one, hockey was the leading cause of mid-thigh lacerations."

Andrew blinked again, "Interesting, though in nineteen-forty-one I would have thought the Germans would have been..."

"Nineteen-fifty-three then," the queen snapped in a huff at having his joke thrown back at him and sulkily went back to his computer.

Tyler smiled, "Didn't you get caught having sex at school or something?"

Andrew turned back, "Uh, no, nothing like that. We only kissed at school."

Robyn grinned, "Yeah, and he got caught, like every time."

"Not every time," Andrew replied with a faint smile. "There were a few times we got away with it."

"Did you get shunned in high school for it?" Devon asked, steering the conversation back around.

Andrew shook his head, "I didn't let it bother me."

"His boyfriend slugged the school bully," Robyn added with a grin.

Andrew glared at her, as the others in the room leaned forward in interest.

"What, is he butch?" Arge asked with a broader grin.

"Nope," Robyn said, glad to finally be invited into the conversation. "He's this short, wiry British guy..."

"Oh, I love a man with an accent," the guy at the computer said, looking up again.

"So how'd you lick a hole anyway?" Tyler chimed up. Everyone studiously ignored his random question.

Devon looked at him, reached into his pocket and handed him a small packet. "Here, play with that."

"What is it?" Tyler asked.

"That's lube, Tyler," Devon replied tiredly.

"Lube?" Tyler said, tearing the packet open in such a way that the goo splattered all over his clothes. He stopped, a puzzled grin on his face as he reached down to scoop some of it up into his hands where, in utter fascination, he began to rub it through his hands.

"He'll be at it for hours," Devon explained, sitting forward a bit. "So you have some experience in overcoming homophobia."

Andrew nodded, "A bit; I just didn't let it affect me and people either accepted me for who I was or..."

"His boyfriend would beat them up," Robyn finished for him, laughing.

Tyler suddenly stood up. "I want to calculate the coefficient of friction," he declared with a mad look in his eyes as he headed for one of the doors. But to his dismay the handle slipped through his lubricated hands.

"You know," Arge said, "you're not going to get out; that's the same lube they use on the space shuttle."

"They use lube on the space shuttle?" Robyn asked incredulously.

"Yeah," the guy at the computer said, "we all know what's going on on the shuttle."

Robyn looked in confusion at Andrew, who just shrugged back at her, equally at a loss.

"You know," the guy said, "with the lube and the astronauts all alone on the space station for a year. You can't tell me those Russian boys on Mir weren't the first to join the ten-mile-high club."

"First sex in space was gay sex!" Devon said with a triumphant grin. "That or hot monkey - dog action!"

Robin collapsed off of the arm of her chair she was laughing so hard.

"Come on," Devon protested. "Sputnik--tell me that wasn't designed by a fag!"

"Actually," the guy at the computer said, "Zero-G sex is damn near impossible..."

"They had straps," Devon fired back.

"Straps?" Tyler's ears perked up as he desperately tried to wipe the lubricant off of his hands on the carpet of the pride center.

"Oh dear," Brandy said rolling her eyes, "Tyler's gonna have wet dreams now."

Andrew glanced over the arm of the chair where Robyn was almost in tears she was laughing so hard. "I think you killed her," he said, looking back over at them.

"But anyways," Devon said, watching with bemusement as Tyler tried now to rub the goo onto his pants, "I was thinking--we need someone to deal with the homophobia-sensitivity speeches. Normally we get Vagasil to do it."

"Vagasil?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah, she's a drag queen, great public speaker," Devon grinned. "But it might have more of an impact if, well, considering the fact that you have a reputation for not taking homophobic shit..."

"And a butch boyfriend!" Robyn called out, bursting into another fit of giggles.

"Well, you might be the best person for the job; what do you think, Arge?"

Arge looked up from his papers, his eyes sweeping over Andrew appraisingly. "It's going to be nice working with you," he said with a leer.