Teen Transform: The College Years 6
by AKA
December
Tim didn't leave campus very often, but now that the college was on Christmas break, and almost entirely deserted, it was easy to grow bored and lonely. The place was a collection of empty buildings and silent courtyards, with only a few students and instructors left on campus. The sky had been threatening snow for days, now, and the gray stillness made him feel sad.
Tim wanted to go home, too, but he was afraid that if he did - if he went back to be with his friends in Muscle Club and the endless sex and wanton physical release afforded by being surrounded by all the other men who were just like him, he wouldn’t want to come back here.
And maybe he shouldn’t. After all, what was there here to keep him? Even his roommate was mad at him, now, for simply refusing to do to him what had been done to Tim.
There they both were, in their room, with the other guy, Mike, sitting naked on Tim’s bed, holding his newly-augmented dick in his hands. Mike had been physically changed and Tim hadn’t even touched him, hadn’t intended to do anything, just give a couple of guys a little bit of pleasure and allow himself to get off, finally releasing a bit of the overwhelming pent-up sexual energy his body was pumping through him like blood. And then Barry got it into his system to challenge Tim, make him work a little harder, make him reach deeper into that well of unending male sexuality that radiated from him like electricity and push him harder than he’d ever pushed anyone.
And then something happened. Something unintended and impossible. Something he couldn’t take back. And Mike owned a monster cock, swollen several inches longer and thicker, rising from between his legs like a cobra, spitting cream from its eye. And Barry was….
Bigger. A lot bigger. Everywhere.
And then they were both overcome by the moment. And Barry sank to his knees before Tim’s two pricks, a hand on each, stroking him reverently like a worshiper before his god, and asking for Tim to complete the circuit, bringing Barry into the membership rolls of Muscle Club, granting him everything that Tim had to give - including the burden of what he was going through every minute of his college life.
And he paused, and he shook his head, and he denied his friend what he wanted. And then there were words, and accusations, and a fight. And Barry stormed out, half-naked and bulging with new muscular brawn, and refusing to speak to Tim like some petulant child denied a toy.
Tim pulled in a long, slow breath and sighed it back out through his parted lips. He rubbed his eyes and felt suddenly tired and old. Fuck, why was everything so fucking hard?
Then he laughed at himself. “Poor you,” he said, looking down at his massive muscular body. “Cursed with all this muscle and beauty. Poor you.”
The nearby town - not nearly large enough to be called a city - wasn't much to speak of. One main thoroughfare downtown, a 4-lane road lined with stores, many of them closed and deserted as a result of the town's economic downturn and the loss of so many industrial jobs, and some tree-lined avenues with large houses owned by families that have lived here forever. Following the highway to the west side, one would find apartments, strip malls and movieplexes. South of town was literally the other side of the tracks, where low income families lived in run-down houses with overgrown yards and too many dogs. Heading east and up the foothills, the college's columned buildings and concrete dormitories sat astride a series of low cliffs overlooking the dirty, meandering river that used to support barges and boats traveling toward the port cities.
The college survived because of its athletics and business school. It was a large campus and relatively wealthy due to its longevity and generosity of a few of its more successful graduates.
Tim was wandering the empty downtown streets. The sky was grey and still threatened snow. The air was brisk but, as usual, Tim's body was providing an unusual warmth that precluded the need for a coat, or even a light jacket. Oddly, his body seemed to regulate itself, generating warmth when it was cold, but remaining cool when the summer sun was blazing, as if it had been designed to do so. Then again, hadn't he spent most of the past summer completely naked?
He was wearing his usual outfit; a pair of tight jeans, a body-hugging Polo shirt and a pair of rubber flip-flops on his size fourteen-and-a-half feet. If any of the few people he encountered thought it odd that someone should be wandering around in December wearing only jeans, a short-sleeved shirt and sandals, no one said a thing.
He'd found the comic book store next to a record store, wondering how they stayed in business given the digital access of everything print and audio. The stores were both empty, save for the lone employee in each, both shaggy-haired young men smelling of weed.
The clerk in the comics place remarked on Tim's resemblance to the blonde-headed Thor, only with less hair. “Dude,” he said, “all you need is a fucking Mjölnir and a golden helmet and you’d be set!” Tim only thanked him and said that was a bit of an overstatement. (It wasn't.)
The guy in the record store openly ogled him as he browsed the bins, sending a thrill of sexual excitement through his huge body. Tim could almost feel the man’s eyes as they caressed his muscles and ass. He considered trying his luck on the dude to see if his interest was more than curiosity, but his fear of doing something he didn't intend to - again - held him back. They shared eye contact a couple times, and the guy even smiled at him. But Tim thought about Barry and left without buying anything, even when the clerk issued an enthusiastic, "Come back soon!"
He thought about Barry as he walked slowly down the frigid sidewalk, seeing his own reflection in the empty storefront windows. At one point he stopped and turned to look at himself, trying to see his old self somewhere inside the huge, muscular, handsome man staring back at him.
"Jesus," he said softly, "who the fuck are you?" He lifted his right arm, bending it at the elbow and swelling the muscles lining the limb to bulging glory. They mounded up and made the tanned, copper skin grow thin and shiny, pushing his sleeve toward his shoulder to make room for the biceps and triceps swelling outward with such authority.
"You're Tim," an equally masculine voice answered. Then another figure stood beside him in the window, slightly shorter, less muscular, but otherwise every bit as handsome and powerfully built.
"I thought you were going home for Christmas," Tim said, lowering his arm.
The brawny figure beside him shrugged a pair of thickly powerful shoulders. "I think I need a few more weeks before I show up at home looking like this," Barry answered. "I told the family a friend needed me to stick around and help him through some stuff."
Tim raised an eyebrow, grinning slightly. "Only a few more weeks? You put on something like forty pounds of muscle."
"Not to mention four inches in height."
"In a few weeks?"
Barry huffed through his nostrils like a bull, releasing steam into the air. "Okay, maybe a few months."
Tim turned towards his roommate. "You still pissed at me?"
"Yes," he answered, not turning. Then, "No. I mean, I am, but I'm not."
"Well, thanks for clearing that up."
"I think I understand why you did it...or, I mean, why you didn't do it."
"What changed your mind?"
He shrugged again. There was a snapping sound as the threads on his shirt released, no longer able to withstand the size of his shoulders. He wore an oxford button-down, sky blue, with the shirt open nearly to his navel, revealing his now massive pectoral globes and the dusting of dark curls that were growing across his muscled chest. His prominent nipples pushed against the tight cotton material, and the first four bulges of his deeply defined abdominal wall were easily defined. "Dude in the record store was practically drooling on me. Creeped me out. So I guess I'm not as ready as I thought I was to, you know."
"Go all the way?"
"In a manner of speaking." He seemed to suddenly remember that the man standing next to him was gay, and he said, "Sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about, I don't particularly want to be straight, either." He made a face. “Vaginas are weird.” Tim looked back at their reflection. "How are you holding up?"
"I don't know how you fucking do it, man. I'm so fucking horny I could fuck a donut." Tim laughed softly. "When did you get used to this?"
"Perhaps you've forgotten that I get so horny that I can make other men grow bigger cocks and muscles. So, uh, I'll let you know when I get used to it."
Barry joined him in looking at the two of them. They were encased in skin-tight clothing. They had the muscular frames of professional bodybuilders. Tim was six-and-a-half feet tall, and Barry was now six-two. Tim's incredibly handsome face would make any of the women he’d been with cream their jeans, and Barry thought his new, more masculine face could make her pretty fucking wet. He reached his thickly muscled arm across the width of Tim's mountainous shoulders. “Weird.”
“Which part,” Tim asked.
“Being big, I mean. It’s weird.” Tim nodded an agreement. “I keep forgetting how much more of me there is to fit through doors and under things. I’ve bumped my head a few times. It’s kind of liking driving a new car, and you don’t know where the fenders are when you’re parallel parking. So you keep scraping things. Only when I scrape things, rub up against someone, I get this sexual thrill that drives straight to my groin. So….”
“Yeah,” Tim said, remembering his own sudden growth. “Weird.” He looked over again, allowing his eyes to gaze on Barry’s almost-there wardrobe. “I like the look you’re going for. Kind of porn-star stripper weightlifter.”
Barry’s handsome mouth twisted sideways. “Yeah, well, what am I supposed to do?” He plucked at his collar. “These clothes were all new when I got here in September. The parents outfitted me and spent a fortune making sure I’d look nice. All collegiate and shit. Can’t afford to buy a whole new set of clothes myself, and I can’t phone ‘em up and say, gee, I’m about twice the size I used to be when I left home. Can you send me a few hundred so I can replace everything you just bought?” He shrugged, and a few more threads snapped. “Besides, I don’t feel cold.”
“You don’t?”
“Well, yeah, a little, but since I can’t pull my coat over these arms, anyway, I figure….” He let the thought drop as he examined his thick and powerful limbs, lined with bulging masses of raw power. He twisted his arms and watched the muscle move, giving Tim a thrill of unintended sexual excitement. “Why aren’t you heading home?”
“I….I just decided not to.”
“You don’t want to see all your friends? Get your swerve on?”
“I’m all about feeling sorry for myself, these days,” he explained. Then he smiled. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Is it because of me? Of what happened?” Tim opened his mouth, but Barry interrupted him. “Look, man, I’m okay. Really. I mean, I was pissed there for a while, but I think I understand better now. Especially having lived in this body for a little while. I mean, there are certainly advantages. Big, huge, amazing, fucking sexy advantages.”
“Yeah, I kind of noticed.” Barry had been fucking every girl he had his eye on, and some of whom had never given him a moment’s notice before.
“Yeah, not just that. I mean, yeah, that. The fucking is amazing! I’ve never had so much pussy so often in my life! And it’s just non-stop!” The overburdened crotch of his tight pants started to display his excitement. Just talking about it, his cock started to stretch and plump with visible results. “Fuck, I’m horny,” he explained, reaching down to adjust his ample package.
“Well, there’s always the record store dude.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“You ever ass fuck anyone?”
“Of course!”
“Of course?”
“Well, once. A girl! I mean, she was a girl, not a guy.”
“Yes, I get that part.”
“But not since… I mean, would it even fit?”
Tim shrugged. “You’d be surprised at what you can do,” he said. Then his forehead wrinkled. “Although, come to think of it, I’ve only been with other… I’ve never done it with someone who wasn’t…”
“Extra large like you.”
“Uh, yeah.” He pursed his lips.
“And, you told me one time that you take it up the….”
“Careful, roomie,” Tim suggested, “unless you’re really prepared to make good on any ideas that are suddenly brewing in that dirty mind of yours.”
“What, fuck you? I’d be afraid you’d clamp down and snap the damned thing off!” He laughed. “No worries there, bro. I don’t want to fuck you.”
“Too bad,” Tim said, lightly. “I’m told I’m an excellent fuck.”
Barry looked over and up at Tim’s face. “Really, dude? You just went there?”
“Are you picturing my ass now?” His full lips quirked into a smile.
Barry rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I’m not. I appreciate that you’re an ok-looking guy, Tim, don’t get me wrong, but when I get hard I’m not picturing your hard muscles and massive cock. I’m picturing Cindy’s tits, or Carrie’s lips, or Lisa’s amazingly tight pussy.” He swallowed hard and pushed at his growing erection with the heel of his hand. “God damn, I’m horny,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Tim repeated, for the millionth time. “So, why aren’t you with Cindy or Carrie or Lisa’s amazing pussy right now?”
“Gone home,” he reported. “So have Wendy and Monica and Betty and Lavonda and Jennifer One and Jennifer Two and….”
“I get the picture,” Tim said. “I trust you’re being careful. Dipping your oar into so many different lakes can result in some nasty bugs, you know.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, genius. I’m buying Magnums by the fucking truckload. I’m practically keeping Trojan in business by this point.” He adjusted himself again. “Damn,” he moaned. “This thing is fucking hungry.”
“There’s always the record store dude.”
“Any mouth in a storm, you mean?”
“If you think he can handle you,” Tim added, casting his gaze down at the impressive outline of his roommate’s burgeoning hard-on. “Is that thing bigger?”
Barry looked down. “Don’t think so.” Then he looked up. “Why, is it supposed to keep growing?”
Tim shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I did. So I don’t know what’ll happen.” He met Barry’s gaze. “Would it matter?”
“If I got bigger? Fuck, I’m bottoming out as it is. I might start poking holes out the backside if it grows any longer.”
“Maybe it’s just those jeans,” Tim said.
Barry outlined his eight-incher with his hands, framing the swollen shaft and bloated head of his cock. “Yeah, not bad, huh?”
“I’d blow you,” Tim said, only half-joking.
“Well, somebody is going to have to. If I don’t care of this guy soon, he’s gonna blow all by himself.” He looked toward the record store. “You really think that guy’d suck me off?”
“No harm in asking,” Tim answered. “And if he won’t, I’ll be back in the room in an hour.” He winked.
“Don’t even joke,” Barry responded. “I’m about to fucking pop.”
“Who’s joking?” Tim answered. Then he laughed. “Have fun, Barry,” he said.
Barry nodded and slapped Tim’s rock-hard ass. “I’ll let you know how it goes.” Then he clapped his hands together and looked down at his dick. “Okay, big fella, let’s go make a new friend!”
Tim watched his roommate saunter back towards the record store. His hips moved like they were oiled, and the two muscled mounds of his denim-encased ass shifted in a most agreeable - and slightly disturbing - fashion. Barry’s lats were stretching the material of his shirt to the tearing point, and his shoulders were a mile across.
Now it was Tim’s turn to adjust his equipment. He wasn’t supposed to be looking at his roommate like that. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about what it would feel like to have Barry’s enhanced dick shoving deep into his hole, prodding his prostate and making his eyes roll up inside their sockets. He wasn’t supposed to be imagining what Barry’s balls smelled like, or tasted like, or felt like as he sucked them into his mouth. He wasn’t supposed to be licking his lips as he thought about Barry’s lips pressed against his, and Barry’s tongue pushing into his mouth, and Barry’s arms wrapped around his body.
He lowered his gaze and closed his eyes, trying to chase those fantasies away. But there he was again, Barry, kneeling before him, the lobes of his muscular shoulders flexing and straining, the two heavy globes of his chest arching forward, his fat cock throbbing and drooling pre, his square-jawed visage staring up at him, asking to be bathed in his warm, creamy spunk.
“Fuck,” he said softly.
Jeremy had become very familiar with the library. He was intimately familiar with the particular corner where he was sitting, because it was well hidden from view. No one was likely to come back here to find him, or really for any reason at all.
He had his laptop open and a book beside it as he typed up a term paper that wasn’t due for weeks. Everyone else was gone home for the holidays. And why not? That was what holidays were for. In fact, there was very little reason for him to be sitting in his accustomed chair at his accustomed table in his accustomed corner because there was almost no one around to be looking for him anyway and no one he should need to hide from.
Except, of course, for the very two students that he had the most reason to be hiding from.
There was Charles, of course. Charles the mighty. Charles the handsome. Charles the supremely weird.
The guy didn’t even own a cell phone! Or a computer! And he only seemed to own, like, four shirts and one pair of pants and some flip-flops. Like, who wears flip-flops in the middle of December? And not a single pair of underwear? That had to be uncomfortable, especially considering how much… equipment… he had to contend with.
And, naturally, the guy had to sleep in the nude. And, naturally, he had to sleep over the covers! In the winter! Who does that?
It was hard enough getting to sleep with him lying there only a few feet away. With that smell he gave off, like, all the time! And he showered and everything, it wasn’t like the guy was a pig or something! So, why did he always smell like that? So… male. And… sexy.
No! Not sexy! He smelled…. he smelled… dirty. Yeah, he smelled dirty. He smelled like… like….
Oh, fuck. Just thinking about his smell, just imagining it over in the other bed, making his sheets smell like that, leaving the intense scent of his body on that side of the room, made Jeremy’s dick start to swell. Fuck! Stop it! Stop doing that! Stupid dick!
He pulled in a slow, calming breath. Don’t think about Charles. Don’t think about him lying naked in the room. Don’t think about his body, and his furry chest, and those huge dark nipples situated at the lower edge of each amazing, swollen pectoral plate. Don’t think about his skin, all bronzed, every inch of it, looking as smooth as silk. Don’t think about his back, and the strong wedges of brawn bulging from it. Or his impossibly narrow waist, and that fucking stupid six-pack of perfect abs.
And don’t, don’t, don’t, do not whatever you do think about his ass. His perfect ass. The two perfect globes of perfectly muscular butt meat, like smooth round bowls attached to his backside. And the deep shadowed crevasse between. And his smell. The smell of him.
Fuck! Stop it!
“Stop it!”
“Stop what?”
Jeremy looked up. “Fuck!” he said.
“Sorry,” the huge, beautiful young man apologized.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asked innocently.
“Just, like, appear like that? Like, out of nowhere?”
Charles tilted his head, shrugged his enormous shoulders and smiled that fucking beautiful sideways smile of his. That infuriatingly perfect smile of perfect handsomeness. “What are you doing here?” he said, avoiding the question.
“What?”
He pulled out a chair and spun it around, sitting splay-legged in it facing Jeremy. All Jeremy could think about at that moment was how Charles’s huge prick was pushing against the crotch of his jeans, making that huge bulging basket that spilled forward with such pornographic obviousness. “Why aren’t you doing this back in the room? There’s no one else in the dorms, anyway, and there’s a perfectly good desk there.”
“I was….” Jeremy groped for a good excuse.
As if reading his mind, Charles’s strong brow furrowed. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“What?” A cold chill shot through Jeremy’s whole body.
Charles asked again, “Why are you avoiding me?” His voice was deep, resonant and sexy.
“I’m not avoiding you,” he answered.
Charles smiled and clicked his tongue. “Now, see, you say that but even you don’t believe it.” He scooted the chair even closer. His arms are hung across the back of the chair. Jeremy could easily discern every individual muscle beneath his copper skin. “So?”
“So?”
“Did I do something?”
“You didn’t do anything….”
“Did I say something?”
“It’s not….”
“I used to think that you were just shy,” he said. “But it’s been a couple of weeks and now you’re actively avoiding me.” He sat up. It made his magnificent chest rear into view. Those two fat nipples were pressing against the thin material. Didn’t he own a jacket, either? “Just tell me what it is, and I’ll stop doing it.”
“It isn’t anything,” Jeremy protested.
“Do you act this way with everyone?”
Everyone like you. Everyone I like like I like you, I do. “Seriously, Charles, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Charles held up his fist and started counting off the offenses on his raised fingers. “You’re never around when I wake up. You don’t say anything to me when we accidentally cross paths, which isn’t so accidental since you’re avoiding me. Even when you do talk to me, you studiously avoid eye contact.” He refolded his arms across the chair back and rested his strong chin on his meaty muscle. “Does that sound like something someone who likes you would do?”
“I just…. I’m…. I….” Charles just sat there, allowing Jeremy to dig his own grave. “I’m… I am shy.”
“You’re sure that’s all there is?” Charles asked doubtfully.
He nodded. “Shy,” he repeated. “I… I’m this way with everyone.” He swallowed drily. The handsome face before him was making his dick hard. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have a lot of friends.”
“I noticed,” he answered. “Don’t you want to have friends?”
“I’m just…”
“Can we be friends, Jeremy?” He sat up scooted even closer. The thick globes of his chest were enormous and beautiful. The darkness of his nipples pressed against the thin material of his shirt. “I’m a nice guy. Honest.”
“You… you make me nervous.”
“Me?” He seemed genuinely confused. “I may look kinda big and brutal, but I’m just a sweetheart. All soft and gooey inside, even if my outside looks hard.”
“Like candy.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Hard candy shell, rich chewy nougat inside.”
“Yeah. Yeah! I’m like candy. And who doesn’t like candy?” He stood up suddenly, towering over Jeremy. The action made a cloud of his intense and spicily masculine scent swirl around Jeremy like pollen. His nostrils stung from the strong, delicious tang of Charles’s familiar smell. It was like he was giving it off on purpose, designed to entrance Jeremy like a poisonous flower. “Friends?” Charles asked, offering his hand.
“I… I never said we weren’t friends.” Jeremy was looking up, into the beautiful youth’s green eyes. He felt like swooning, like he could faint dead away, looking into those eyes. The young man’s broad, strong hand was held out toward him. The nails looked like glass. Even his nails were perfect. “We don’t need to shake on it,” he said quietly.
Charles wrinkled his brow again. “No?” He looked at his hand. Then he lowered it and shrugged his mountainous shoulders. “Okay,” he said, apparently satisfied. “So does this mean you’ll look at me when we talk?”
Jeremy shrugged.
“And you won’t run away or disappear when I get to our room?”
Another, slighter shrug.
“You don’t seem very convincing, Jeremy.”
Charles’s voice, saying his name, brought tingles to his spine and made his cock throb. “Sorry,” he said.
Charles sat back down. “Are you okay? Are you sure that something else about me isn’t bothering you?”
Besides you being so close, you mean? And the smell of you making my dick hard? And that just looking at you makes me want to kiss you? “College is...a lot more challenging than I imagined.”
“No shit,” Charles agreed. “I forgot how much fucking work it is.”
“You forgot?”
Charles’s face looked slightly panicked for a second. “Compared to high school,” he said. “You know, you take a summer off and you think your senior year was such a drag and….”
“A ‘drag’?” Jeremy’s eyebrow arched. “Were you home-schooled by any chance?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Sometimes you sound just like my father.” He narrowed his eyes. “And home-schooled kids are...weird.”
Charles laughed slightly. “I don’t doubt that.” He scrubbed his hand through his wealth of shiny black locks, pushing them from his green gaze. His biceps swelled enormously, squeezed by the action. There was a thick vein that wound over the top of the muscle, and as the skin stretched, it revealed every cable, fiber and bulge of the awesome brawn beneath. “No, I just went to regular high school. I guess I watch too many old movies or something,” he explained. Then he shrugged. His shoulders were like animals wrestling under his shirt.
Charles peered at Jeremy’s computer. “What are you working on?”
The smaller boy turned. “Computer science,” he said. “I’m studying to be an engineer. Make something cool, you know, then sell it to Google and retire to someplace far away.”
“Far away from what?”
“Just...stuff.”
“Need any help?”
“From you?” he asked, incredulously. What the hell would an over-pumped juicer who spends every waking hour at the gym looking at himself in the mirror know about comp sci?
“I’m smarter than I look,” Charles volunteered. “You stuck on something?”
Oh, what the hell? “I’m working some C++ and this won’t compile. I can’t find the bug.”
“Mind if I take a look?” He rounded the table and sat down next to Jeremy. He was giving off a palpable heat! No wonder he wasn’t wearing a jacket, the dude must’ve just come from a big workout session and his whole, giant body was throbbing with power. And there was his scent again, stronger than ever. It was all coming off him in waves.
Jeremy’s heart was beating fast. His dick was throbbing hard and growing uncomfortably thick. He had no spit in his mouth. “It’s… it’s this,” he said, indicating the problem code.
Charles looked at it and scrolled up and down very quickly. “Can I…?” he asked, floating his meaty hands over the keyboard.
“Be my guest,” Jeremy answered, growing almost as curious as he was turned on.
Charles executed a flurry of typing, his hands moving very quickly as he cut and pasted, replaced some phrases outright, removed others and hit the compile icon. “I think that should help,” he said, his voice rumbling deeply beside Jeremy’s small frame.
They both watched the progress bar and then everything came up green. “You… you fixed it.”
Charles smiled over at him. “Told you I was smarter than I looked.” He winked and tapped his forehead. “It’s almost like I have a whole university full of really intelligent men up here.”
“Wow,” Jeremy said, admittedly impressed. “That was…. thanks!”
“You’re welcome,” Charles said, simply. “If there’s ever anything else I can help you out with, just ask me. Anything at all, Jeremy. I’m remarkably agreeable to almost any suggestions. And I think you’ll find my talents can extend….to quite an amazing length.”
“Uh…. okay.”
“I’m also incredibly subtle.”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Just wanted to throw that in there.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He stood up. “You… coming back to the dorm, then?”
“In a little while. I’m going to finish some stuff here where it’s quiet.”
Charles nodded and gazed around the empty library space. “It is that,” he agreed. “You hungry?”
“Hungry?”
He smiled that fucking sideways smile again, the one that made something inside Jeremy melt like butter over a hot flame. “Yeah, hungry.”
“I… guess so.”
“Wanna grab something to eat? With me?”
“Eat something?”
Charles’s handsome face tilted and his green eyes narrowed. “Yeah, Jeremy, eat something. Put something in your mouth.”
“My mouth?”
Charles reached forward, placing his finger on Jeremy’s upper lip and encircling his mouth. “In here,” he offered. His touch was warm, too. And unexpectedly soft.
Jeremy shrank back. “What are you do…?”
“C’mon Jeremy, let’s go get some food.” Charles acted as though he had done nothing odd at all. He placed his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and squeezed gently, reaching with his other hand toward the laptop and slowly closing the lid. “It’ll do you good.”
Left with little choice, and feeling decidedly weird, Jeremy stood up and started putting his computer in his backpack. “What do you feel like?”
“I want whatever you want,” Charles said, “I’m easy.” Muscle bulged from every inch of his body. His face was achingly handsome. His groin was over-burdened by the sheer volume of his sexual equipment. His clothes fit him like a glove, hugging every perfect mound of brawn piled so deeply on his tall frame. He was smiling his sideways smile, dimples in one cheek, the other smooth and dusted with whiskers. His green eyes sparkled like gems, and his jet back hair was shining like spun glass.
“Do you…?” He didn’t finish the question.
Charles raised an eyebrow. “Do I…?”
“Never mind.”
Charles’s smile increased in wattage, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Whatever you wanted to know, chances are I do.” He lowered his chin slightly. “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
Charles shrugged, “Whatever it was you wanted to know if I did.”
“I’m… not sure.”
“That’s fair. But can I offer some advice?” Jeremy slung the pack over his slim shoulder and nodded, looking at his beautiful, taller, broader, very imposing roommate. Charles’s voice was smooth and deep, seductive in its grace and power. “Whatever it is, give it a try. I find it’s not very smart to judge things - or people - without giving them a chance. You may be surprised at what you’ll enjoy doing.”
“Maybe,” Jeremy admitted. “But what if….”
“What if what?”
“What if other people….”
“Fuck them.”
“Huh?”
“Fuck them. Fuck those people.”
“But what if…?”
Charles shook his head. “Fuck them. Those people aren’t worth your time or consideration. You can’t worry what the other people think. You need to do what makes you happy - what makes you feel good. What makes you feel good about yourself.”
“But….”
“Do you want to hurt someone?”
Jeremy looked shocked. “No!”
“Do you want to make someone feel bad? Or make them hate themselves?”
“No.”
Charles shrugged. “Then fuck those other people. Do what you want to do. Feel good. Have fun.”
“It’s not that simple,” Jeremy protested.
“It is exactly that simple,” Charles said, softly.
Jeremy sighed. “You don’t know,” he said.
“Then tell me,” Charles answered, “so I do know.”
“I can’t.”
Charles smiled. “Okay. That’s okay. But when you want to tell someone, I hope you tell me. I like you, Jeremy. And I want you to know that. I really like you.” Jeremy didn’t meet Charles’s emerald gaze, keeping his eyes down. “You want me to shut up?”
Yes, Jeremy thought. I want you to shut up, so the sound of your voice doesn’t make me think about kissing you, and your body against mine, and you naked, and me naked, and both of us together. But he just nodded slightly, and blushed. “Let’s go,” he said, finally.
“Yes,” Charles said, “let’s.”