Off Campus (34 page)

“I think the ubiquity of social media means we're all potentially exposed to the public eye on a previously unimaginable scale, whether or not we want to be, and that's something that still affects people when they come out, even if their personal revelations are maybe less negative today.” Using the twenty-five-dollar word distanced him from this argument, made it feel more academic than a bunch of strangers sitting around discussing his personal life. He'd take it.

“But it can be a good thing too, right?” The little guy with pink hair looked familiar as he bounced in his seat, tossing a wink Tom's way that made him blush. The blush turned into a raging inferno when he realized that the kid was one of Reese's old pick-ups from a million years ago. Or rather, eight months. His room had reeked of this kid's come while Tom fell asleep on his bed. “Like that guy who came out to his parents with a YouTube video. That got, like, a million views and there was a ton of positive impact.”

Holy shit. He hadn't thought this through at all. Maybe
that
was why Reese wasn't involved in the official gay student organizations on campus. Because he knew he'd constantly be running into his pick-ups? Seriously. Holy shit. This was not a part of the difficulties he had anticipated.

Thank God someone else had jumped in.

“Does anyone know what his parents did, though? Positive response from strangers is great, but what about his family? Were
they
ready to be in the spotlight?” Tom couldn't even see who was commenting now as the discussion leapt to life with several people all talking at once.

The debate went on for a long, long time, to the point where Tom started to question the need for consensus on
everything
.

In the end, they decided to combine the two subjects and do a multimedia installation on the power of social media for both good and ill and the changing nature of privacy and coming out in a digital age. A couple of film students were eager to interview people at the next QUILTBAG party, an acronym that Tom was embarrassed to have to have explained to him. The asexuals and the queer additions were new to him and although a couple of students laughed at his ignorance, they did it in a way that didn't feel like they were making fun of him.

Paul interrupted the detailed explanation of gender identity versus sexual identity that the little guy with the pink hair had cornered Tom with while the other students broke up and headed out. His name was Eli and he had the friendly, frenetic energy of a younger brother on a Twinkie high. When he ran off to catch up with some of the film students, demanding to be the first to be interviewed on camera, Paul grinned at Tom.

“Eli can be a little overwhelming.”

“No, he's cool. I sort of…met him. Once. Under weird circumstances.” Tom blushed, like Paul could look at him and know that he'd listened to Eli orgasm with Reese's mouth on his dick. Paul either didn't pick up on the awkwardness or decided to ignore it.

“I feel like I met
you
under weird circumstances. Wasn't sure if you were here to kick my ass for breaking you up with your boyfriend or not.” Tom stared at his shoes. Paul ducked his head to get back into Tom's line of sight. “Sorry. I heard from Reese later. Haven't talked to him in a couple of months, though.”

“Yeah, well, that wasn't your fault,” Tom said. Paul quirked an eyebrow at him and Tom laughed. “Okay, maybe for one day it was your fault. But that was coming whether or not he ever talked to you.”

He must have looked as if he were eager for any word of Reese, because Paul twisted his mouth and said, “Last I heard, he was doing fine.”

Tom knew that. He'd seen Reese across the Green recently, standing with a group of people, none of whom he recognized. But he'd braced himself when he saw a tall guy come up behind Reese and wrap an arm around his chest in a hug. He thought he saw Reese tense, but it was hard to tell from a distance. That could have been wishful thinking. In the end, Reese turned his head and grinned up at the guy, who tousled his hair with his free hand. Obviously, his therapy was helping with some things.

Tom cleared his throat, his voice cracking a little. “I'm glad. But like I said, not your fault.”

“I'm sorry anyway.” But his grin was less than repentant and his eyes skated down Tom's body with a frank appraisal that made it clear he'd bounce back fine. “Can I buy you a drink to make up for the one day?”

If he'd ever wondered whether it was only Reese, or some lingering remnant of boyhood from single sex boarding school, the zing of pleasure that sparked in his dick at the idea of this good-looking, confident guy being interested in him put that question to rest. But although he'd probably spend a day or two wondering what it would have been like to hook up with the King of the Gays on campus, a guy who probably knew ten times what Tom did about gay sex, there wasn't any real heat behind the fantasy. “Sorry. But thanks.”

“You are gay, right?” Paul raised his hands, palm out, in the air. “Just checking.”

“Bi, actually.” He sighed, wondering if saying that would ever not make him feel like a fraud. “Though that makes people think I'm afraid to say I'm gay, I guess.”

“Hey, no one gets to define your sexual identity but you. Rule number one.” Paul had packed up his notes and papers and flipped off the overhead light. He held the door to the room open, but not all the way, so that Tom had to turn his shoulders and slide past him to exit. The hallway wasn't that much dimmer than the cloudy day outside, but it was empty and felt strangely intimate. Paul closed the door behind them. “Besides, I'm not afraid of bi guys. I'm confident I could hold your attention.”

That grin packed quite a punch.

“Thanks. But, um, even though it's probably over for good…”

“He's still your guy.”

Tom shook his head. “I'm his.”

Paul clapped him on the shoulder and tugged him down the hall. “Damn. Then I definitely owe you that drink. C'mon.”

He tried to remember the last time he had made a new friend, aside from Reese. He thought that maybe it felt like this.

Maybe it felt like catching up.

A week later, Tom called Reese and left a message asking if they could meet up on the Green. Summer seemed to have skipped right over spring that year and the Green was carpeted with students on blankets or towels or Indian print bedspreads that had last been hip back in the seventies but could still be had for $9.99 at the head shop in the next town over. No studying was happening indoor that afternoon, anywhere, as far as Tom could tell.

He sat in the sun and closed his eyes, letting it glow red through his eyelids and warm his skin until he could almost imagine that he was waiting here for nothing more important than a tan.

Almost.

When a shadow blocked the light on his face, he knew who cast it.

“Got your message.”

He opened his eyes and inhaled slow and deep. This felt like coming home and the scariest thing he'd ever done all at once. “I didn't know if you'd come.”

Reese sighed and dropped to sit across from him, hugging his knees to his chest. He watched the Ultimate Frisbee game that a couple of guys were trying to get going, despite everyone else yelling at them for getting stepped on.

“I don't hate you, you know. I miss you. It just…”

Tom twisted his hands in the grass at his feet and ripped it from its roots, throwing it like confetti that floated for a moment in the breeze before falling to the ground.

“Wasn't enough. I know.”

Reese's sigh was audible.

“No. Not enough.”

“I get that. And I'm working on it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He'd known that simply saying that wouldn't be enough. Had taken the time to prepare a list of the things he was changing, starting with having called Paul last month to tell him that he should run Reese's article, without editing Tom out.

But all he could think about with Reese sitting across from him, sun shining on his black hair, leather cuffs still wrapped around his wrists, green Chucks on his feet, was that he'd never wanted to touch someone so much in his life. Wanted to feel his skin, the hard muscle wrapped around skinny bones, the tightly wound energy easing under his hands until Reese was loose and relaxed and in the moment the way Tom always wanted him to be.

“I've been working on a lot of things, actually. And I know you have too, so I was thinking that maybe you could come and sit here and I could tell you about it.” He uncrossed his legs and planted his feet on the ground, knees up and shoulder-width apart. He reached under one knee and laid his hand on the grass where his lap had been.

Reese raised an eyebrow at him.

“People can see you, you know.”

He flushed but refused to look around him.

“I know. That's one of the things I'm working on.”

He held his breath.

And let it out in a silent sigh when Reese walked on his knees over to him and then turned his back, scooting back on his butt until he was pressed up against Tom's chest, resting his hands on Tom's knees as he leaned back.

Tom closed his eyes for a moment and held his breath. Then he cleared his throat—it was tight—and began.

“So, I'm going to be staying for the full year next year. Quillian suggested I stick around for a double major in Non-Profit Studies and Econ. Said it would help get me into a grad program. And he offered me more hours TAing for him too. Plus, since I wasn't claimed on anyone's tax return last year, the dean confirmed I'll be eligible for full financial aid. Especially because a bunch of my income was, um, unofficial.”

A nice way to put it. He'd been honest with the dean but she told him she had no memory of that conversation whatsoever.

Reese twisted his head to stare up at him.

“You talked to the dean?”

“Yeah, she's, um, not so bad. Plus she fired that guy who was working the desk.”

“The Evil Nemesis?”

Tom nodded and liked the way Reese's hair felt against his face, soft and silky, so he did it again, turning the nod into a caress with his cheek. Reese's eyes drifted closed but he kept talking.

“I feel kind of bad about that actually. He was a jerk, but I guess I'd've been one to me too.” It turned out that the dean had heard them arguing in the hall outside her office and she'd demanded the details of the confrontation from Tom. For such a tiny woman, she was surprisingly scary and Tom found himself confessing far more than he meant to. Once she heard his description, she'd cut him off before he could explain that everything Jack had done was totally justified. She told him she'd investigate for herself, thank you, but if Jack had harassed Tom, then he was fired and probably on academic probation too, no matter how much Tom argued against it. Students were entitled to go to school without being harassed. He didn't bother to tell the dean it wouldn't matter what she did to Jack either.

But he'd almost laughed while she spoke. Or cried. Told himself it wasn't that funny but heard Reese's voice in every word.

“What do you mean?”

He remembered the look in Jack's eyes. The fear, so familiar to Tom, of slipping loose from everything he knew. He'd wanted to reassure him, share out a portion of his hard-won wisdom about asking for and accepting help, but he couldn't imagine Jack being able to hear anything Tom said right now. Not even
sorry
and he'd said that and meant it.

“I'll tell you later. Let's just say he's part of the fallout from my dad, but I know there isn't much I can do about that.”

Reese nodded, his hair brushing against Tom's chin. He wished he could shut up and sit here in the sun with Reese, letting it soak into his bones. But learning to talk in the daylight was one of the things he was most proud of, even if it felt like peeling his skin off every single time.

“I've been working with the team. My wind is still for shit compared to them, but we're sweeping our conference, which is fun. I'm glad I'm running again.”

Reese rubbed his hands up and down Tom's shins. “I knew you would be.”

“That's why you're the one in charge, baby.” He didn't flinch at
baby
anymore, but the sentiment had always meant more than one thing to them and his dick woke up at the memories, thickening as Reese's ass flexed against his crotch. This conversation was more important than his dick, though, so he ignored it. “I've been hanging out with Cash and Steph a lot too, which I know you know because I think they stagger our meals so we don't run into each other.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“It's not the same without you. I miss you.” Speaking simply was hard, but worth it. His chest was tight and he held his breath until Reese found his hands and laced their fingers together. He squeezed until Tom's knuckles ached, which helped him breathe again. “I also went to this meeting.”

“I heard.”

“You did?” Well, shit. That was the biggest weight he had to slide on the apology plate of the balancing scales between them. That and sitting here wrapped around his boy in front of anyone who cared to look. He was pissed to have his thunder stolen.

“Five thousand students. Takes about fifteen minutes for gossip to get across town. Also, you're hot. You show up at a Pride meeting and it's less time than that before they're laying bets on who you'll hook up with first.”

Tom reared his head back. “But I didn't—”

Holy crap. If he'd fucked it up already…

Reese twisted until his shoulders pressed against Tom's arm so he could look at him. His smile was rueful. “Relax. You're, like, the least unfaithful guy ever.” He sat up with a jerk before sinking back against Tom, facing forward again. “Not that you had to be, because we weren't—”

He wasn't going to risk it by wrapping his arms around Reese and holding tight, even if he wanted to more than anything. But he buried his face against the side of Reese's neck and breathed him in, warm skin under his mouth as he whispered.