Maddox

I DON’T KNOW what I was expecting when I kissed him. I don’t know what I was thinking when I kissed him. He was a guy. No matter how genuinely nice he was, how accepting he seemed of all my personality flaws. Even if he looked really cute excitedly running around the boardwalk, pointing out all the stuff he wanted to try. And even though the way he always stared at me with so much admiration and affection made my chest feel weird and my dick hard.

But when I’d caught him staring at my abs, his eyes raking over them like he wanted to memorize the way I looked, it obliterated the last little piece of my remaining denial. Ren was a guy, but I felt… something for him. Something I’d never felt about any other guy, and maybe not even a girl. When I’d asked him if he was straight, he’d been honest about it. He wasn’t. I wasn’t ready to think about any of that for myself yet. I didn’t want to obsess over labels or identity. But I wanted to kiss him. That was the extent of my knowledge.

He stayed perfectly still while I leaned in. I thought it would probably be like kissing a girl. I’d take the lead, and he’d be passive and let me tease his lips a little before we worked up to making out. But as soon as it started, he flipped it on me, slipping his hand behind my neck to hold my head in place. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, the little moan I let out was insanely embarrassing. I hadn’t kissed anyone in months, and the pressure of his tongue on mine felt so fucking good. We ended up kissing for so long that we had to pull apart to breathe. Panting, I realized I’d fisted my hands into his soaked t-shirt, holding him to me for balance.

I’d never been this turned on by kissing before. My cock was stiff, tenting out my shorts, desperate for stimulation. My lungs needed air, but all my body wanted was his mouth back on mine. When I pulled on his shirt, he took the hint and captured my lips again. For a stuttering, awkward nerd, he was really, really good at that.

His body bumped into mine, subtly nudging me. The back of my thighs hit something, and I turned away from his mouth to look behind me at his mattress. He was trying to push me down onto his bed. When I looked back up at him, I felt his fingers stroke down the back of my hair.

“Is it okay?” He asked. “I mean, we don’t have to d-”

“Stop talking,” I said, lowering myself onto my back, dragging him down with me.

“Okay.”

He settled between my legs, and I spread them to give him more room. Our hips were flush together, with his cock digging into mine. It felt huge, but I thought it was because mine was already so sensitive, every little brush against it felt enormously magnified.

When his lips left mine to press burning hot open-mouth kisses all over my jaw and neck, lightly sucking my flesh just short of the point of pain, I had to suppress another moan. I’d never been kissed like this. I’d made out with girls, but I’d had to do everything. They’d always just expected me to take control and do stuff to them, and I’d done it because I thought that’s just how hooking up was. But this was… Way better.

“Your moans are really cute, Maddy.”

Maddy? Who the fuck was Maddy? Maddy wasn’t a name for someone like me. But here I was … On my back, with a guy between my legs. Moaning like a whore. And what the fuck had happened to the nervous, insecure dweeb who needed me to reassure him at every turn?

When he shifted on top of me, rolling his hips against mine, I dug my fingers into his back, whimpering. Panic in my head mixed with the lust in my blood as I rutted against him, realizing with a little horror that I could already feel an orgasm gathering in my spine. No fucking way I was already this close to coming. I’d never been that kind of guy. I could hold my load. But it was so fucking good.

As I tried to think of dogs getting run over and grandmas in miniskirts and anything else that would calm me down, I could feel Ren panting heavily against my neck. He was grinding his dick against me in such a perfect rhythm that I wondered if he was secretly a porn star on the side or something.

I opened my mouth to tell him to wait, slow down, something , but before I could say anything, he slid his hands under my shirt, pushing the wet fabric up my stomach. He was barely touching me, just squeezing my waist and stroking my skin with his thumbs, but I was so touch-starved that he might as well have been jerking me off. Pleasure crashed over me in a sudden and instant wave, my balls drawing up tight to my body.

“W-wait, Ren- Fuck …” I pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him off me, but it was too late. My back arched as I threw my head back, my hips bucking helplessly against him as I came. Hard. It felt like it went on forever, each new spurt of come intensifying the powerful sensation. When it was over, I went limp, my thighs slumping down on either side of Ren’s hips to lay flat on the bed. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to me, but the strongest orgasm I’d ever had. If I hadn’t been so incredibly and horribly embarrassed, I could have probably laid there for hours.

“Did you…” Ren trailed off, staring down at me in complete shock. His eyes were glassy, with blown out pupils, and his lips looked dark and swollen. The feeling of his stiff cock still prodding into mine was only adding insult to injury. “Did you just come?”

“Shut up.” It was all I could think to say. I felt like I was in shock, numb all over but so nauseous I wanted to puke. I’d never been so humiliated in my entire life. Shoving him, I sprang up off the bed, breathing so hard I felt like my lungs would explode.

“It’s fine, Maddy. It’s not a big deal. Just-”

“I said shut the fuck up!” I snapped at him. My fists clenched, muscles tensing like I wanted to fight him. Swiveling on my heel, I yanked his door open and raced out. I heard him calling for me, but I just kept running.

Kissing him had been a stupid idea. The worst idea I’d ever had. I’d never lost control like that with a girl. I wanted to go back in time to when he’d first pranced up to my desk and tell him to fuck off and leave me alone. Every day since then had been weird and confusing and I hated it.

When I got home, Caelyx was sprawled out on the couch, his legs dangling over the arm. He pursed his lips, looking me over. At least he didn’t seem drunk this time.

“Well, now I feel overdressed,” he stated. “I didn’t know drowned rat chic was what we were going for this season.”

At least I was soaked from head to toe so he couldn’t tell I had come dripping down my thighs. “Fuck you,” I answered, but there wasn’t much conviction behind it. I was too exhausted, and my anger and frustration were directed somewhere else at the moment. “I’m taking a shower.”

“What, another one?” He asked, mock surprise coloring his irritating voice. Ignoring him, I grabbed a pair of shorts from my room and barricaded myself in the bathroom to try and wash my memory of the last week out of my head. I briefly considered hanging myself from the shower rod, but decided it was too melodramatic.

The first swim meet of the year was being held at some aquatic center a few towns over. The whole team took a bus to get there. The ride had been torture. At least the next one, which was supposed to be in January, was being held at a facility only a few minutes from BBU. I wouldn’t have to suffer for hours again.

As we stood around waiting for our events to start, Coach Larson lectured us for the billionth time about disqualifications. Butterfly couldn’t slip into an alternating kick, or it was DQ. If the backstrokers turned too early when they reached the wall, it was DQ. For breaststroke, you better hit the wall with both hands every time, or it was DQ. Of course, none of that applied to me because I was a freestyle swimmer. All those finicky little rules about strokes would have driven me insane.

A lot of people had friends or family members in the stands to cheer them on. I didn’t have anyone, since my dad had blown me off and I didn’t have anyone I considered enough of a friend to invite. The isolation and loneliness I’d been feeling in varying waves was sort of crushing. I hadn’t felt that way when I’d been hanging out with Ren, but… No, I didn’t really want to think about that yet.

Garrison, Ahmet, and O’Conner sauntered over to the bench I was sitting at, plopping down on either side of me. If I hadn’t known better, I would have been suspicious that they were all in some demented throuple or something. They were always up each others’ asses. And mine, for that matter. Figuratively. Only figuratively.

“Alright, Holmes. Fess up,” Ahmet said slyly, giving me an obnoxious look. “Who was it? Was it that hot Black chick you were talking to at the party?”

Hot Black chick? Had I even talked to a girl at the party? It took me a few moments to realize they were talking about Kelani. I nearly scoffed. She was cute, but even if I’d been interested, her dislike for me was obvious. For whatever reason. I’d meant to ask Ren about it, but I’d forgotten. And now I was pretty sure I could never talk to him again.

It had been almost a week since we’d gone on the boardwalk together. I’d skipped creative writing Wednesday and Friday, getting the assignments from some girl. I was pretty sure if I had to look him in the eyes, I’d just die on the spot. I was considering dropping the class altogether.

I’d waited all week for someone to bring it up to me. I figured word would spread pretty fast, even if I didn’t know that many people at the school yet. Even if they don’t know me, the idea of some guy jizzing his pants over pretty much nothing was probably interesting, right? But as of yet, everyone had been completely normal. But Ahmet’s question had me sweating a bit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

The three of them chuckled, Garrison elbowing me in the ribs playfully. I didn’t like being touched, particularly when we were all pretty much naked, our dicks barely covered by the regulation speedos we all wore, but I didn’t take it personally. They were always rough-housing with each other.

“Don’t play dumb, Holmes,” he teased, then gestured to my neck before giving it a solid poke. “Who’d you get that from?”

Oh, right. That. The splotchy hickey Ren had left on my neck like a horny middle-schooler. Not that I could really complain about it, since I’d obviously enjoyed it. I’d noticed it, but didn’t have a clue how to cover it. I’d considered going to Arie and asking him, since I was sure he’d have some ideas about some kind of makeup crap I could smear on it, but I was also pretty sure he’d laugh in my face if Ren had mentioned what had happened between us.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” I answered. I couldn’t help but wonder how they’d react if I told them who I’d actually gotten it from. Then again, I knew how they’d react. I’d heard the way they talked about gay guys, especially ones they thought were too flamboyant. If they found out I was into dudes (well, one dude) they’d probably get me kicked off the team. And then my dad would kick my ass. Definitely not worth it.

“Ah, you’re no fun,” Garrison chided me a bit, but I think he’d expected my answer. I’d never palled around with them.

Even after realizing I wasn’t going to brag about my apparent sexual conquest, they didn’t leave. They stayed, chatting about the events and some of the girls on the teams from other schools. I did my best to zone out and ignore them so I didn’t go insane, until O’Conner yanked me back into the conversation by saying my name.

“So how come you don’t ever hang out with us outside of practice, Holmes?”

I shrugged. I don’t like you guys seemed like too harsh of an answer, especially in the middle of a team-oriented event. One of the things my dad had drilled into my head was to keep the peace on the team. Never be the reason for disruption and disharmony for the team. Ignore any discomfort for the sake of the team.

“I just do my work and go home,” I said. “I don’t really do much outside of practice and class.”

“But I saw you on the boardwalk,” Ahmet pointed out. “You were hanging out with that lanky nerd kid. Ron?”

“Ren,” I corrected him automatically.

“Just you guys on the boardwalk?” O’Conner asked, looking smugly incredulous. “Couldn’t you get dates? There’s a lot of girls at this school that’ll fuck any guy on a sports team, you know.”

“Good for them,” I responded.

“Wait, that’s not who gave you this hickey, is it?” Garrison asked, giving my neck another poke. This time I batted his hand away.

“Fuck you,” I spit out at him. He raised his palms up in a submissive gesture, looking shocked by my response.

“Just messin’ with you, dude. Relax.”

“We know you’re not like that,” O’Conner added. “But you need to chill. You’re on edge all the time, bro.”

He had no fucking idea how on edge I was. But I forced a small smile on my face, giving a slight nod.

“You’re right. Just a lot going on with classes and everything.”

“Well, tell your girlfriend she needs to help you relax,” Ahmet suggested. They all looked so smug and condescending, it made me want to puke.

Biting down on my tongue so hard I thought it might break through, I nodded again.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her.” I hoped that response would be enough for them to leave me alone for the rest of the day.

When it was time for freestyle, I had to wait for a bunch of other heats before it was time for mine. We were grouped by time, and according to my sheet, the best times were saved for last. I was in the second-to-last group, which meant I was better than most of the other people competing in my style.

When it was time for my heat, I tried to remember all the practicing I’d done for a racing dive. As I climbed up onto the diving block, my mind was racing with all kinds of thoughts. Positioning one foot and one foot in the back, I stayed as perfectly still as I could. I kind of felt like I was going to tip over and belly flop into the pool, but I’d suffered enough humiliation for the week.

When I heard the shot from the starting gun, I dove in. My form felt pretty good, but the water was fucking cold. I didn’t pay too much attention to the guys in the lanes beside me, just focusing on my strokes and kicking off against the wall when I got to it. Before I knew it, I was slapping the wall after the fourth lap and springing up out of the water, breathing heavy. The muscles in my arms were burning like hell.

I’d come in first, but I leaned against the wall, waiting until everyone was finished before making a move to exit the pool. Coach had drilled some story into our heads about a guy who’d slipped back into the water trying to lift out and was DQ’d for interfering with swimmers still racing by making unnecessary waves in the water. Man was seriously paranoid about any of us being disqualified.

My time in the heat qualified me for the final race. Coach and some of the other guys on the team raved about my time and congratulated me. Only three of us had qualified for the final in our events, so it seemed like kind of a big deal. I forced myself to act excited along with them, trying to remember that they didn’t know how miserable I was, or how empty their congratulations felt to me.

When it was time for the final race, my nerves were shot to hell. The pressure of doing well at the meet mixed with all the bullshit going on in my life to create a sickly tar of stress inside me. Still, I pushed myself as hard as I could for the time I was in the pool. Not because I really cared about winning, but because I could hear my dad’s voice in my head reminding me that I wasn’t a loser, that he wouldn’t have a son that was a loser.

I came in second, just a hair after a guy from a rival school. When I shook his hand after, he looked incredibly ecstatic, almost like he was going to cry. If he wanted it that much, he could have it. Even though I lost, my team and Coach were still pretty hyped over a silver placement. I wasn’t sure how my dad would feel.

I clutched my phone in my hand on the bus ride home, trying again to block out all the chatter about which girl had sucked whose dick, and who was going to get wasted tonight, and every other stupid thing I didn’t care about. My texts with Ren glowed on my screen. There hadn’t been a new one since Monday. My fingers ached to message him, to tell him how the meet went. To tell him anything . But I only clicked it off and turned it to face downward in my lap for the rest of the ride.