True As It Can Be - 17. Chapter 17

We were naked with direct contact, but neither of us went for the obvious stuff like oral or anal sex. The orgasms from rubbing our cocks against each other had sufficiently brought both Brad and me to satisfactory climaxes. It was the first night we slept naked together, the first time we actually explored each other’s bodies fully. I’ve seen internet gay porn and regular heterosexual romance movies, but what we did wasn’t ever shown or described. Gay porn was usually depicted as a sexual movement meant to derive pleasure for one or more guys engaged in gay sex, so there wasn’t any exploratory touching or caressing that had nothing to do with sex. I spent at least an hour tracing every scar Brad had on his body, just as he had traced a scar on my leg several times from a bad horse-riding session at my uncle’s farm. I told Brad how my family ignored my screams of pain and the fear created when I was dragged around by a horse. This news caused him to wince and he held me even closer. He revealed to me how his former teammates tortured him with various instruments, while Gary watched and directed their actions indirectly. We drifted off to sleep that way after sharing our scars and memories. Do people in actual relationships explore bodies like this, then talk the night away?

I woke up Wednesday morning with something wet tracing the back of my leg. I knew without opening my eyes, it was Brad’s morning erection. He was already leaking precum and petting my messy brown hair gently. I was in the little spoon position with his curly blond chest hair rubbing against my back.

I greet Brad, “Good Morning, Burst.”

He nuzzles my neck, “Good Morning, Cock-tease, so I see we’re progressing to using our high school nicknames.”

I flip my body to face him, my own morning erection hitting his stomach, “I’m not a cock-tease, am I?”

Brad grins and kiss me tenderly on the cheek, “Depends on what mood you are in,” his expression shifts slightly with his words sterner, “Beau, I’m starting to get urges right now. I think I can probably keep myself in check around you and other people, but you need to go back to your room to sleep. Sex with me isn’t going to be safe when the withdrawal hits me hard.”

My cautious nature stirs, despite how open with him I am, so I ask, “What are your urges like Brad? You told me you want to hurt people, like Gary hurt you. Is that what you want to do with me?”

Brad sullenly stares at me with his sapphire blue eyes, “I want to have sex with you constantly and I know that even after my orgasm and my cock deflates, I still want to have sex with you. It’s weird though because no amount of sex will satisfy me when I am going through my withdrawal,” he sighs and tries to change the subject, “I am not great with my temper during my withdrawal. You know I mentally want to hurt people, sometimes.”

Nodding, I accept the change in the subject without accepting his request to abandon him, “You can get aggressive or angry with me sometimes, but you haven’t done anything. Did you want to hurt me?”

Brad shakes his head, “It’s not the same with you. I want to do other things with you. With other guys here, especially before I knew them as I do now, sometimes I get annoyed over little things like overhearing Warren’s snide remarks, Francis calling me an asshole, or Cook making scrambled eggs instead of poached eggs. Then, random thoughts come into my head. Memories of what happened to me are mixed in with their faces, so I imagine myself hurting them…” Brad pauses and stares at me waiting for my disapproval, but I have none to give.

I shift my body closer to him, my morning erection against his hairy torso, “I’ve read some of Cook’s psychological research studies on abuse victims and revenge fantasies. Not everyone will understand and I can understand why you are afraid to share this. You are working through a lot of stuff and trying to connect with people again. If you can edge your way out of fantasy and into reality, I think you would be happier. I want to help you,” I inhale deeply, “What do you want to do with me, if you do not want to hurt me physically?”

Brad’s face turns red, “I like what we are doing right now, I like being close to you, and…” he hesitates, “I know you don’t like being watched or being controlled, neither do I, really. Some guys like that stuff, like Gary. Most of those guys are decent good people unlike him, but I am different in what I want. I should have realized it years ago, but being with Gary made me ignore that part of me. I want to be outdoors with you, like maybe fall or winter camping. I want us to dance with the dirt beneath our bare feet and the stars lighting our naked bodies without a care in the world, then when if one of us gets cold, snuggle up in a thermal sleeping bag with some hot chocolate. I want the sounds of nature to be in our background as we sleep next to each other at night. I want to have sex with you non-stop, whenever and where ever we want. I want the joy and pleasure we create to meld into nature like we are no different than the deer, wolves, and bears that live out there year-round.”

That was not what I thought would be his reply or his interests. I guessed my thought upon hearing he had aggressive tendencies and revenge fantasy on Monday was that he would be interested in other things. Maybe it’s how our culture has made BDSM and related stuff less taboo than it used to be, but I was willing to submit myself to him and offer him everything he needed to feel whole again, despite inherently not wanting to do that. What Brad desires though is the complete opposite of that stuff.

Control is a popular desire because most people can’t dictate how others behave or how the world works. Entire ideologies from Right-wing Fascist cults of leadership to Left-Wing Communist oligarchic parties represent the big societal effects of this human desire for control, while bondage and mastery mechanics represent the individual sexual effects of the same desire for control. Some people believe the antithesis of control was freedom, but the concept of freedom is usually an ideological concept rather than sexual in modern times. I know there are people who claim to defend freedom and liberty, but they are actually doing it for selfish goals or groups to control behavior. Recently a certain group of southern US politicians claim they are fighting for freedom of religion in the same breath they want to deny women control over their own bodies and allow rapists to spread their genes. No, freedom isn’t antithetic to control, not anymore after the term’s perversion by false prophets. If I had to put a name to Brad’s mindset and desires, I’d have to go back to an older concept.

Considering what I’ve seen of Gary Gaston and the ease at which he was able to control the world by dropping a few million dollars or making a few influential people bend to his will, people like that already have the means for control over others and their own surroundings, so I assumed Brad would just be the flip side of the same coin. I’ve never met a guy like Brad, someone who strived for nature as an actual state of existence. It was a concept without individual selfishness. I should have realized that his solution to Gary and his family’s influence wasn’t about control or selfish goals, it’s a shift to interdependence, beyond individual and group. As a boyfriend, he wants to share an unfettered natural comfort, without judgment or preconceived notions about behavior or pleasure. Brad represents a third choice beyond the sides of the same coin.

In response, I kiss Brad, “I want that with you, too,” smirking, I jokingly add, “Of course, I don’t know how long my ass will last when we’re both naked outside dancing under the stars.”

Brad playfully pinches my butt, “I can warm up your ass in seconds like this…”

Without having to wake up for my morning job at the library at 6 AM, I found out exactly how Brad could warm up my ass throughout Wednesday morning. Brad pulled off the comforters and flipped me to face away from him. I wasn’t worried that he’d do anything I didn’t want him to, because honestly, he already had my implied permission based on everything that we have been through. Brad’s body hair provided delicious friction down my back. His hot breath was giving me shivers as he blew up and down my spine. To whoever started that old saying about a guy breathing down your neck being a bad thing, you have probably never been naked in bed with Brad Brooks doing it. When he started sticking his tongue out to coincide with his hot breathing, my senses were on overdrive. I thought Brad would rim me, but he only circled around from my hole. I think he would have entered me that way, but the anticipation was enough, my orgasm came too fast for me to hold back. I’ve never received something like this from another guy, nor have I seen anything similar in gay porn.

I wish I was half as experienced at giving pleasure to Brad as he was for me. After my climax, I glided down his body and took his large dick in my mouth. It was the first time in months since I gave a blow job to Jeremy. Some guys have trained themselves to not have gag reflexes and perfect throat muscle control, but that’s not me. I was only able to get 4 inches of Brad’s cock into my mouth. Brad rubbed my back encouraging me the entire time until I felt him tense and his hand froze seconds before his orgasm. I knew Brad was negative based on his constant health monitoring and I’ve had myself checked a month ago as well at the start of college with the student insurance plan, so exchanging or consuming cum wasn’t a huge health issue for us. His seed tasted great in my mouth: salty, sweet, and tangy, like a really good custard. I usually hated giving oral sex, but Brad made me enjoy it.

After my orgasm, guilt rolled over me. It didn’t feel like I gave him enough in return for bringing me so much exotic pleasure. I knew we had more time and I could do much more to make him happy.

Only 4 hours passed during our morning sex session, which to be honest was more like an hour or an hour and 30 minutes or so of sex, then a recovery siesta snuggled in each other’s body. Not sure if it was the frotting from last night or if it was the hot oral session this morning, but we both fell asleep again. Another thing that no one ever mentions was the fact that sex can cause drowsiness. That would explain why most porn, whether gay or straight is done over a bed, even if the characters appear to be full of energy.

I rolled out of bed at 10 AM, I stirred Brad awake as well as I left his room. I went back to my own room, took a shower, and wandered downstairs to see where everyone was. Chip was obviously at school since it was Wednesday. It felt a little strange not to see what Pokémon he modeled his outfit after today. In Paki’s room, I saw Paki painting a new woodland landscape, along with Warren, who was painting at a 2^nd easel. Warren’s room appeared quite bare, when I went in there on Monday, it would be nice for him to add some color. I noticed that Francis and Min were in Min’s room. Francis was standing still with a wooden stick facing up in the middle of what appeared to be a small hula hoop on the floor. If I didn’t know, Francis almost looked like he was staring out. Min was giving him verbal cues.

Min exclaims, “Perceive that which cannot be seen with the eye.”

Francis grunts out, “Min, I’ve read the Book of Five Rings, too. You don’t have to repeat those lines, you’re not Mister Miyagi,” he groans as his body shakes slightly, “You know keeping still like this is working more muscles than a full workout.”

I hear Cook’s voice behind me, “Francis is learning some Kendo techniques from Min. A lot of Japanese baseball players practiced holding stances within tight circles like this. It was originally developed by a swordsman in feudal Japan to train young men in basic martial arts. In modern times, the same principles have been applied to baseball due to the nature of strike zones, along with discipline and tactical thinking for various other subjects. I agreed to this as it would help them both bond.”

I nod and turn away from Min’s room, “That’s good to know. Min is still grieving from the loss of Ito,” I raise an eyebrow, “Is this part of your psychological therapy for everyone? Beyond the couples like me and Brad or Paki and Francis, Min and Warren seem lonely with their partners distant or gone. I saw Paki and Warren hanging out, but I knew they were close friends. Min had connected with me and Brad, fishing. Now, he’s connecting with Francis over Kendo. It just occurred to me that everyone here seems to be making connections.”

Cook smiles and acknowledges my revelation, “Whether we stay at this University or not, you should consider a career in psychology.”

Waking up late as I did alongside Brad meant we both missed breakfast, but Cook was happy to make us some scrambled eggs and sausage patties. During our late breakfast, Morris texted me. I had given him my new smartphone number, so we could stay connected, one of Brad’s benefits. I should have thanked him for getting me a smartphone like the rest of Keller Hall as I couldn’t afford my own smartphone with my meager student earnings, otherwise.

Morris: Hey Beau, want to come out for coffee before Thanksgiving break, now?

Before replying to him, I glance over at Brad, “Morris is asking me out for coffee.”

Brad glared at my phone with suspicion, “Do you trust your former roommate? With everything going on right now with Gary, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go alone.”

Sighing, I knew he was right. I was not a stupid horror movie victim, who couldn’t recognize stupid choices. So, I texted back.

Me: I’m not sure, Morris. Lots of stuff happening, maybe dangerous for me

Morris: You have someone from Keller Hall to come with you, we’d just meet at the coffee bar near the student center.

A thought came to my mind with the idea of building connections still fresh from my conversation with Cook, I turn to Brad, “Want to go out to coffee with me and Morris? It’s on-campus near the student center. Now that you’re officially a student, you should get a taste of student life.”

Brad considers my request, “I’m not good at interacting with other people, Beau. What if we encounter Gary?”

I shake my head, “It’s the middle of the day before a major holiday, most students are heading home. I doubt Gary will be at the coffee bar, it’s not his scene. You need to broaden your circle outside of Keller Hall.”

Brad agreed to join me to have a coffee with Morris that day. The coffee bar was quieter than usual, fewer students needed their coffee fix as Thanksgiving rather than essays or exams were in the air. We served Starbucks brand coffee at the University, which was a major sponsor of our campus among others. We were bundled up in warm clothing and Brad wore his face mask covering most of his disfigured face. The barista at the counter was a cute tall skinny blond junior named Sammy, who had offered me a job during the mornings back in September. I had seriously considered it, but seeing how frazzled other baristas became during the morning rush, I opted not to take the offer. I wasn’t close to Sammy, but I felt almost like he was flirting with me the first time we met. Today, when Sammy saw me come up with Brad possessively placing an arm around my waist, he didn’t flirt with me, but he did offer a bright greeting as he took our orders. We both got the pumpkin spiced latte, which we were advised by Sammy would be the best choice as the coffee blend was fresher due to their seasonality.

We sat opposite Morris at a high-top table facing the window.

Morris looks Brad up and down, then offers a hand, “Bro, so you are the famous Brad Brooks, huh. Glad someone is taking care of Beau.”

Brad takes his hand and answers, “Yes, I am thankful to you for watching out for him before.”

I pout, “Guys, I’m sitting right next to both of you. Stop talking about me like I am some stereotypical romance story heroine, who needs strong men to protect them. It’s offensive to me despite being a guy and chauvinistic to women.”

Morris laughs at my comment, “He’s still trying to preach, huh.”

Brad snorts, “Every day, but he’s usually right.”

Morris grins, “Yea, he is usually right,” focusing his attention on me, “Beau, when have I ever mistreated a lady? I’ve always been a gentleman with them. Girls prefer black dudes with some suave and style if there’s a chance for a 2^nd time. You know I always get a 2^nd time.”

I coughed as Brad rubbed my back, attempting to soothe the image of the countless 2^nd times and nights of sleeping in the dorm’s common room. I was lucky Gary Gaston hadn’t noticed me during the first few months of school due to Morris’ antics, but honestly, I can’t blame Morris for trying to find love, either.

Brad considers Morris’ explanation, then replies, “I’ve dated a few girls, they never interested me as much as guys. It was the expected thing for a high school quarterback. Everyone knew including my parents that I had sex with boys. I didn’t try to disrespect people of either gender, but it felt good to be wanted and needed by people. I know now it’s wrong.”

Morris process Brad’s explanation of his high school dating history then delivers something unexpected, “Bro, you sound like a player, who got caught up in the game. Knowing the shit guys like Gary Gaston is pulling, like the crap with Beau and the library shit from yesterday, I sort of think your rich people just don’t get what’s really important. Hell, the asshole has been pumping out rumors that you guys have an underground sex dungeon at Keller Hall, where you are holding college students as sex slaves. That kind of shit conspiracy theory is coming from someone who would actually do something like that, but he’s the golden boy with money and an NCAA college football team’s season.”

Brad’s brows furrow and eyelids lift with Morris’ point, “Gary is a monster, I should have realized it years ago, but my feelings for him kept me from seeing it. I spent too much time seeking appreciation and praise. He nearly destroyed me, because I failed to see the truth.”

Morris nods, “Well, like 50 Cents said, “Reality has its own power—you can turn your back on it, but it will find you in the end, and your inability to cope with it will be your ruin.” I grew up differently than you or Beau, but human life is still the same anywhere, gay or straight and black or white, it doesn’t really matter. People too much time focus on what is in front or behind of them rather than who’s beside them. That’s the reality that I think 50 Cents was warning about.”

Brad lifts his mask, revealing his disfigured face for Morris to see, Morris shows no fear or horror, “You’re not afraid of seeing reality. I’m glad,” with his exposed face, Brad grins, “You know that quote came from the 50^th Law of Power, which 50 Cents and Robert Greene co-wrote together.”

Morris smiles back, “Bro, I’ve got the paperback in my room and had it autographed by them both.”

We spent the afternoon chatting away until Morris had to leave for an engagement with a girl, who he had invited to sleep over tonight in our former dorm room. We invited Morris to Thanksgiving dinner at Keller Hall, but he said he would be heading home tomorrow morning. He would text if his plans changed tomorrow. If he did come back to visit us for dessert, he wanted to avoid being on campus until after the afternoon football game had ended.

Brad and I spent most of the day, lazily walking around the large college campus. I avoided any areas, where I thought we’d run into Gary Gaston. The closest to Gary we ever got was passing by one of his muscled goons, who we avoided the gaze of by using Brad’s administrator access card to enter a utility building, where campus’ laundry services were engaging in a massive effort to clean curtains and, with an additional charge to students, various student clothing items. No one even noticed our entry into the old-fashioned building and there were no cameras at the entrance either, because who would want to sneak into a laundry building. With that close call, we went back to Keller Hall for dinner.

Nothing particularly interesting happened Wednesday night, except Chip wasn’t wearing any Pokémon-inspired outfit, instead, he wore a university logo hoodie, the same kind Morris has bought me as a present. It was normal attire but felt strange on Chip, who never said a word during dinner. I wanted to ask him what was up, but Brad, Min, Francis, and Warren kept my attention throughout dinner. I knew I’d have time over the next few days to connect with Chip and figure out what was bugging him, so I let the issue rest.

At night, I slept comfortably naked wrapped in Brad’s arms after a round of oral sex from both of us. It felt comfortable and almost normal like this was how life should be.