Rumor Has It (Longwood U)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

DAK

I’ve discovered a few very important things about myself over the last few days. I can get it up quite easily for men. One man, specifically—I haven’t tried outside of him. I am not a fan of cameras, though I don’t think it’s the knowledge that someone somewhere could watch what I was doing, and my image will be forever immortalized on the internet.

It’s something having to do with being watched in the moment. While it’s happening. I swear, I was consciously living through a very loud bi-awakening with an audience.

But more than anything, I’ve determined that I am definitely into River.

After I calmed down and pushed away everything I should have been mentally dealing with, I did some internet sleuthing and found that River Madison is a student here. Not faculty, which I already knew the moment I saw him in Rumor.

That moment I walked into the staged bedroom to find this man I’ve been obsessing over from afar looking at me with a smile—fuck. It literally felt as if the universe was an irritated and impatient aunt who shoved the thing I’ve been silently moaning over right in front of me to shut me up.

Here he is. What are you going to do with him?

I’ve replayed that entire thing over and over again in my mind. So many times, I can practically taste him days later. I can still feel his hand on me. His mouth on my cock.

Said cock is fluffing just from thinking about it. I drop my hand and grip my dick tightly, squeezing my eyes closed. The number of times I’ve gotten off to memories of this man is… embarrassing. I feel like I’ve definitely crossed some line by going from just weirdly obsessed with him into jerking off over him.

An obsession graduating from mildly disturbing to disgusting.

For the fourth night in a row, I’m staring at Ezlo’s bunk overhead. Unable to sleep. Unable to stop thinking about this man.

Growing up in a household with gay parents, you’d think that I’d have figured this out about myself by now. Why did it take this one man to make me open my eyes? Though, I suppose it could be just this one man.

But I wonder—I did run because of the cameras, right? Or at least the men behind the cameras. Not because I was horrified to put his dick in my mouth. Right?!

Fucking hell, the way this entire thing has consumed me is not conducive to being in college. I’ve barely looked at my studies at all since then. I can’t concentrate on anything other than River. Imagining him there, touching me. Kissing me. Sucking my dick.

A shudder runs through me, and I squeeze my cock again. I refuse to jerk off in bed with Ezlo sleeping on the bunk above me; I’m not that kind of roommate. Instead, I’m just going to lay here strangling my cock and praying for sleep to take me.

I didn’t sleep much, so I feel like I was hit by a freight train last night. Looking at myself in the mirror does nothing to dissuade that thought. Nor does Milo saying, “You look like shit, man,” when I get out of the bathroom. I grunt in return. That’s all the strength I can muster to answer him.

His comment has Stephen looking up from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table to examine me. His beady little eyes watch me as I head for the fridge and pull out an energy drink. Stephen is too good for energy drinks, so he purses his lips and watches me judgmentally as I walk back to my room without a comment .

What must it be like to be so miserable all the time? Does he even enjoy his own company? What brought him to the point in his life where he thinks that he’s the only person who goes through shit?

I shut my bedroom door a little louder than necessary. Not in response to Stephen’s presence, but because I’m tired and have no sense of self right now. Ezlo mumbles in his sleep and rolls over. My heart stops when he gets close to the edge of the bed, both arms and a leg hanging off.

Because he’s giving me anxiety, I set my drink down and pull out the small two-step ladder we bought to help him make his bed. Setting it up at the side, I gently shove him backward. He yawns and blearily opens his eyes.

“You want to cuddle?” he asks, amused.

I roll my eyes. “I don’t want you to roll off and crack your head open.”

“I want to cuddle. Climb your sexy ass up here, Dakky.”

Clearly he’s still mostly asleep. The only time he calls me sexy is before he’s fully awake. Sighing, I take a step back, but Ezlo grabs my arm.

“No, really. Come up here and let me cuddle you for a minute. I need a hug.”

“You realize there are probably a hundred different people on this campus alone that would happily climb in your bed, Ez, right?”

“Then be one of those people and get up here. Don’t make me beg.”

Sighing, I hoist myself up. Ezlo scooches himself back further and I lay down. I’m barely there when he’s already wrapped around me like a snake. He makes a cute little humming sound as he settles back in.

I don’t often put up an argument when he asks for a hug or even a cuddle. There’s nothing wrong with either in a platonic setting. In fact, I think it’s a much healthier way to form relationships and to grow as an individual. I love this version of masculinity where you’re allowed to grow up acknowledging that you love your friends and men also have emotions they’re not afraid of.

I know the value of friendship.

We lay quietly for a long time, and I finally doze a little. For maybe an hour, I manage to sleep with Ezlo wrapped around me. Had I realized that was all I needed to get some fucking sleep, I’d have climbed up here two nights ago.

It’s his movement that jostles me awake. Ezlo lets me go and rolls onto his back with another big yawn. “Thanks,” he says when I look at him. “I needed that.”

Smiling tiredly, I shift and press the side of my head to his. “I did too, actually. But seriously, if you keep getting too close to the side of the bed, I’m ordering rails for you. I do not want to wake up because you’ve fallen out of bed.”

Ezlo laughs. “I’d probably roll over the rails too. You know that, don’t you?”

“Not if they touch the ceiling. Don’t tempt me. If I call your parents, I know they’ll be out here in a heartbeat.”

He grins. “Yes, they would.”

We lay in bed for a while longer, not talking about anything, but not in a hurry to get up. It isn’t until Ezlo’s stomach growls that we finally climb out of bed. I practically chug the energy drink I’d forgotten about in favor of Ezlo’s safety. When I swallow the last sip, Ezlo’s frowning at me.

“What’s had you awake all night? The semester is only just starting, why are you so exhausted?” His eyes narrow suspiciously.

I could definitely tell him. If anyone will listen without judgment, it’s Ezlo. Not because he isn’t a judgy person—he can be. But because I anticipate most people would say it’s a sexual awakening issue that’s keeping me awake and Ezlo is oblivious to sexualities. We’re all blank slates to him, which must be a very freeing way to live. Complete and totally gray. Not even shades of gray but monotone gray.

Still, I don’t know if I want to talk about it. I’m not even sure what I’d say. This guy I’ve been obsessed with for ages was at Rumor and we fooled around until I freaked out, but now, I can’t stop thinking about him? Except that it’s not like I wasn’t already thinking about him, it’s just that now I know how he kisses. I know what his hands feel like moving over my body. I know what it’s like to have my cock in his mouth.

Yep… not going there. I shake my head.

Ezlo frowns. “Dude, you don’t think I believe that, do you? ”

I sigh. “I…” I struggle to come up with literally anything to offer him. When a minute passes and I’m still floundering, I drop my head forward and release a frustrated breath.

He wraps his arm around my shoulders. Just one arm in a sideways hug but then he moves around in front of me and hugs me tightly. “I don’t care what it is. You could tell me you stabbed someone with a scalpel in lab and I’d be cool with that.”

Amused, I say, “Yeah?”

“Did you drink their blood after? Ohhh, you ate a piece of their brain, didn’t you?”

I laugh. “What have you been watching?”

He huffs. “As if I can sit still long enough to watch something.”

My body weight sinks into him and Ezlo holds me up for a minute. “Really, Dak. What’s wrong? You’re always down for a hug, but you’re never this starved for one.”

“I-I’m maybe just confused about some things,” I offer. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to—and this isn’t a pressure tactic to convince you—but sometimes, telling someone what’s bothering you has a way of helping you understand. Even if the other person doesn’t say anything at all.”

I smile and lean my head against his. “I know, Ez.”

“It doesn’t have to be me. What about Edin?”

Edin is my childhood best friend who I went to school with. We met in hockey as six-year-olds, and he continued to play after I quit. Then he was forced to quit when he was fifteen and knocked some girl up. The money that went to paying for him to play hockey now went to raising his kid.

I thought it was stupid to make him give up hockey. He was good. He likely could have gone pro and then taking care of his kid wouldn’t be such a struggle as it is now. But instead, the wisdom of his parents was to teach him a life lesson by taking away his opportunities, so he understood that there are consequences to his actions.

As if the pregnancy wasn’t enough of a lesson in consequences.

Sometimes the wisdom of parents is just… beyond my understanding. Especially since his lessons didn’t stop there and my best friend has been absolutely miserable for the past five years .

No, I’m definitely not going to talk to Edin about this. He has enough shit to deal with that isn’t me being obsessed over this man!

Or over me kissing a man.

I shake my head. “Edin has enough shit on his plate.”

“Edin should empty his plate into the trash and start over,” he mutters.

I snort. Yeah… I don’t disagree.

“Well, then, you’re coming with me.”

“Where?” I ask as he steps back. I already miss his hug. “We’re not going on another date. You were a shit last time.”

He flashes me a wide grin. “Nah. We’re going to the hockey game. They have an early one today.”

“Still trying to get Lennox in bed, huh?”

“They’re being stubborn. I know they like me. We talk all the time.”

“I think he has a girlfriend,” I retort.

Ezlo frowns. Most of the time, when someone tells him they’re seeing someone, Ezlo has enough respect to back off. Most of the time. I have a feeling this isn’t going to be one of those times.

He’s been after Lennox for ages. Ezlo is a year older than me and enrolled at Longwood U my senior year of high school. Lennox was his roommate that first year. Every single time we talked throughout the year, he was drooling over this man.

They’re actually really good friends, but yeah, Ezlo does not let him forget that he’s available whenever Lennox decides he’s interested in trying cock.

I watch as Ezlo gets dressed, frown still firmly in place. This is the longest I’ve seen him without a smile. When he’s about done, I get dressed too. We share the bathroom to brush our teeth, and he takes a piss while I wash my face and hands.

When we head out, he’s still frowning.

“You didn’t know he has a girlfriend?” I ask.

“How do you know he does?”

While Ezlo’s default pronouns for everyone are they/them, he’ll easily swap out to match a conversation, which I find hilarious since he does so unconsciously. Such as now. It makes me smile because I notice every time.

“I have class with this girlfriend. Frankly, I think she’s obnoxious. Every other word out of her mouth is, ‘my boyfriend, Lennox’ as if she needs to remind everyone that she has a boyfriend and who he is.”

He sighs. As we step into the arena and make our way to our usual seats in the front row near the goalie, Ezlo is still musing over this.

My gaze moves through the crowd absently. Always looking for River. I’ve seen him here once or twice. Not often. That’s not to say he doesn’t come more often than that. I don’t go to every game, either.

Our team comes out to skate around and Ezlo is on his feet at the boards. Lennox skates over and slaps his stick against the wall, flashing Ezlo a smile and a wink. Ezlo beams at him.

He stays there for quite some time, watching as Lennox stretches and readies his crease. When he takes his seat next to me, the frown has finally vacated his face entirely.

“I don’t care,” he says randomly, crossing his arms.

“About what?” Had I missed a conversation?

“His girlfriend. That’s stupid.”

“I think she’d disagree.”

He shrugs.

I don’t push too hard because Lennox really is adamant he’s not interested in Ezlo in that way. Ezlo doesn’t actually pressure him. He flirts, but I think that’s just part of Ezlo’s personality. There are times he flirts with me too, and when I look at him funny, it’s clear he has no idea.

That doesn’t mean this man can’t flirt with intention. If you think his casual conversational flirting is good, just wait until you see when he tries. Hell, even my panties get wet.

I snort at my own thoughts while settling in to watch the game. My gaze trails over the crowd now and then, but I don’t expect to see River.

Imagine my surprise and the way my heart stops when I see him. I sit up a little straighter in my seat, trying to concentrate on him through the glass and with all the bodies moving between us. Yep, he’s here. River Madison is sitting practically right across from me.

The game is forgotten entirely.