First Time

by Kim Gasper

© April 1999

Massachusetts, January, 1984

The first time I saw him was when I ran into him, nearly bowling him over in the cafeteria line. He was cool about it, grinned when I apologized, and gave me this *look*. His eyes--smoldered. They were dark, endless eyes that looked so hot, so intense. He was Latino, or Hispanic, and very beautiful, but there was something about him that seemed to scream 'hands off'. I didn't think he'd be interested in me. So I apologized again, and shivered when he said "S'okay, dude". His voice was like warm; like liquid heat moving over me.

The next time I saw him was a chance meeting in the laundry room. I took all my stuff to the laundromat closest to campus, because the few machines they'd stuffed into the dorms scared me. I'd heard tales of people's clothes going in and never coming out again, and wasn't interested in finding out if those rumors were true.

"We keep running into each other," he said, rubbing his head from where I'd banged it with the door. "Guess we should introduce ourselves." He rubbed his head once more, and watched me watching his movements.

I don't think I've ever seen anyone as perfectly beautiful as he was. Not super tall, though bigger than me. Well, taller and bigger. I was still growing; I wondered if he was done yet. Dark, dark eyes, nearly black, that practically screamed "mischief". A red slash of a mouth that looked warm and inviting and made my head swim when I wondered how he kissed. Not that I had a lot of experience with kissing anyone--but it was the thought. I couldn't stop the little pang that went through me when I wondered if Mom and Dad would've like this guy, then shook myself, trying to stop my staring. I stuck my hand out.

"Well, I'm Randy Taylor. Sophomore."

His eyes widened, then swept up and down over me. "Sophomore where? Ballymore?" He named the local high school, and drew his forehead up in a frown when I shook my head. "Here? MIT? No way, dude." He shook his head again, then said, "Well, whatever. I'm Angel Ramirez--" he gave it the correct pronunciation, then grinned. "They call me Angel, though. Easier. Closer to the truth."

I snorted at the expression on his face when he said that, then laughed again when he did. He grabbed my hand and pumped it once or twice, giving it a brief squeeze before he let go. "Nice to meet ya, Randy." It was the squeeze that did me in. That, and something in his eyes. But behind that 'something', was something else--I could see it. Something inside of him that was practically gibbering in terror at the thought of being close to another guy. I wondered if he liked guys, or

only thought that he might, or if he had any experience--anything. I was too busy trying to figure it out, lost inside my head, and I blinked when he waved his hand in front of my eyes.

"Randy. Earth to Randy. Come in, man. The shuttle's landed, dude, you need to disembark."

"Sorry, man. Just thinking."

"No kidding." He laughed, sending shivers chasing down my spine. "I could almost see smoke comin' outta your ears, kid. Nothing's that intense." He stepped just a little closer to me, his eyes shifting around. "Hey--wanna go get something to drink? There's a Denny's up the road. We can take my car."

I looked longingly through the window. I'd just taken my driver's exam a couple months back; a car was a luxury I wouldn't have for a while. "Yeah, that'd be great. Lemme get my stuff."

"No rush, Randy. I can't go 'til the dryers stop. I was just comin' back in to see if they were done."

"Cool." I settled myself back into the chair I'd recently vacated, and reached down to stuff my books back into my backpack. Angel leaned over and snagged my notebook, looking at the notes I'd scribbled from Porter's Bio312 class.

"You really go to MIT?"

I blushed a little; his eyebrows looked like they were permanently embedded in his hairline. "Yeah--like I said, Sophomore. I guess." I shrugged. "I’m not totally sure how they do my ranking, and stuff."

He looked me over again, eyes clearly taking in my body that said very eloquently, *young*. "I could be wrong here, man, but you look--uh, young--to be in college at all, much less taking 300-level classes. How--um, how old are you?"

I sighed; this was the moment when he'd decide he didn't want to be friends--never mind anything else!--with the geeky kid who knew too much. "Sixteen. I, uh--"

"YOU'RE that kid!" His voice jumped a couple of notches, both in volume and excitement, and my stomach did a flip at the energy pouring from him.

"Excuse me? What kid?" I winced, inwardly. Personally, I hated the word 'kid'--and all the implications that go with it.

"Ahh, sorry." He handed me back my notebook and ambled over to check his dryer. "I have Professor Waller for Science and Technology, and he talks about you all this time. Mourns, actually."

I blinked at Angel. "Talks about me? Mourns? Angel--what're you talking about?" Professor Waller was one I didn't know--not that that meant anything.

"I help out in his office on Tuesdays, and he talks about you all the time--how much he envies the Biology department, because you're obviously set on majoring in Bio, and he wishes he could get you over to Engineering. Get you turned on to 'real science', as he calls it." Angel snorted. "I think he's just jealous because he and Porter are old buddies, went to school together and all that, and he wants a brain-child to nurture, too."

I *really* blushed at that. "I'm not--I mean, I guess…but.. geez…"

Angel tossed his head back and laughed, but it wasn't the kind of laugh to make you want to crawl under the table, it was a nice laugh. One that said it was okay. "You're as red as a fire truck, Randy. Chill out, dude. It's meant as a compliment, y'know."

"I know, I guess." I looked over at the wall of dryers for a minute, feeling a strange mix of emotions moving through me. He hadn't run screaming from the laundromat, so maybe it was okay. Did he want to be my friend? I wanted desperately to be his. He seemed so--self-assured. And he was so good-looking, seemed so nice.

Angel moved a little closer--when had he come back over? "You okay, kid?"

Heat flushed through me again, and the words blurted out before I could stop them. "Don't call me that, please. I don't want--to be a kid!" I blushed again. DAMN. I couldn't wait to outgrow this--I was tired of this hormonal circus that seemed to run my life.

Strangely, Angel seemed to understand--why wouldn't he? He was a guy, too. "S'okay, Randy. I'm sorry--I didn't think--" He lifted his hand part way, almost like he wanted to touch me, then let it fall. I didn't know whether to be grateful he didn't touch me, or wish that he had. I swallowed once, and watched him do the same; watched his throat move gracefully with the motion. "C'mon, then. The laundry's dry--I dunno 'bout you, but I'm starved."

"I can always eat." I laughed shakily, and got up to gather my stuff up again. "My folks always said I was gonna eat them out of house and home."

"Yeah," he grinned, tossing his laundry into the bag, "my folks say the same thing. It's worse now, when I go home on breaks, because they forget in the months in between."

I didn't know what to say to that, because I didn't *have* a home to go to during the breaks--not any more, not since Christmas, when I'd won my 'independence'. I shrugged and followed him out of the laundromat and over to the tiny, battered little Toyota parked next to the building.

"It's not much, but it gets me where I need to go."

"Never argue with transportation--nor fault anyone who has it when you don't." I grinned at him. "Since I don't *have* wheels, I'm sure not gonna complain about yours."

"Smart man," he intoned solemnly, then laughed when I flipped him off.

We spent a couple hours at Denny's then, talking about school, which we both liked; sports, which neither of us got into much, tentative plans for the future, and where we were from. I could see the excitement in his eyes, and hear it in his voice when he talked about his home in Phoenix, and his family. I almost didn't tell him about losing my family, because I hated the pain that still seemed so fresh; three years later and it still hurt, when I let it out enough to feel. I didn't do that too often. I didn't talk about my home for the same reason. I didn't care if I ever returned to Corpus Christi; too many memories there that I couldn't resurrect no matter how badly I wanted them. Angel didn't say much; he just looked a little sad, grasped my arm in a funny half-hug and said, "I'm sorry to hear that, man."

Angel didn't live in the dorms anymore, though he'd 'done his time', as he called it. He drove me past his apartment on the way back to campus; I was jealous all over again. I hated the dorms--never enough quiet nor privacy to do proper studying. He laughed when I said that, telling me that he'd thought the same thing. He had a roommate now, but he was a quiet guy who was gone most of the time anyway.

"I know he comes back sometimes, 'cause I have to buy milk like every other day…and sometimes I find damp towels in the bathroom. But I couldn't tell you when he's there--not when I am, for sure."

"That's the best kind of roommate, I'd think." We were in front of the dorm, and I didn't want to get out of the car. I didn't want to go…wanted to stay and talk to this guy for the rest of the night. The rest of my life. Whatever.

"I think so, too." He hesitated, then turned to me. "It was great meetin' you, Randy. Um--wanna…wanna meet for dinner in the cafeteria tomorrow night? If you…um, don't have plans?"

My stomach flipped again, and I had to sternly remind myself this was not a date…he was asking me to meet him to eat. Two guys having dinner together in the school cafeteria. "I'd--yeah. That'd be cool, Angel."

"Awesome! See you 'bout 5:30 then, huh?"

"My last class ends at 5:15, so that'll work. See you."

"See ya later, Randy."

*****

We set a pattern over the next couple of weeks; dinner together every night, or as close as we could manage, and on Saturday nights we'd rent a movie, get a pizza, and hang out at his place. I loved spending time with him, whether we did serious talking about scientific theories being bantered around in our classes, or just bull-shitting about the latest movies and trends. Neither one of us knew much about the latter, but it was fun to toss stuff at each other, see who could best the other.

I had wondered sometimes, where the term 'crush' came from; after I met Angel, I knew. It was the feeling you experience when you're around that person: your whole body seems crushed inward by the weight of what you're feeling, and the emotions surging through you. At least, that's how it seemed to me. It got bad enough that I was popping a boner nearly every time I thought about him--which was most of the time. I hadn't had wet dreams very often in the past, but it suddenly seemed like I couldn't go one single night without one. And that was usually after jerking myself off, thinking about him.

I still had no idea what or how he felt about me--as a boyfriend. I knew he liked me--he wouldn't have hung out with me for almost a month if he didn't. But whether I was 'just a friend', or someone he wanted to know better--more intimately--I had no clue. And I was scared to death to find out the truth, just in case it wasn't the side I was longing for.

As it turned out, I didn't need to do anything to find out. The answer presented itself very nicely, all on its own.

Mondays and Wednesdays I had a cellular physiology class. My study partner, Sandy, and I had gotten pretty close during the previous semester, when we had the pre-req together. We'd decided we liked being lab and study partners, we had a lot in common, and she told me once she could relax around me because she knew I wasn't going to come on to her. We flirted and teased each other sometimes, but it was a very casual thing; she had a boyfriend she saw every weekend without fail, and I had my crush on Angel.

I hadn't actually *told* her I had a crush on him, but I guess I talked about him enough that she figured it out on her own. One Wednesday afternoon, when the sun was out and the temperature had decided to venture above the single digits, we decided to sit in the courtyard near the science hall for a little while. I missed the warmth of the sun; that was probably the only thing I actively *missed* about Texas anymore, and had already decided I was going to California for my advanced degree work. As we were sitting there, doing more talking than studying, Angel walked by. He did a double-take, I guess, when he saw me sitting with Sandy; I'd mentioned I had a study partner for that class, but never said specifically who--it never occurred to me to say one way or the other.

"Hey, Randy." His voice never failed to send a tingle through me, and when I looked up at him, I felt the usual stomach-tightening rush of anticipation I always felt when I was around him.

"Angel! Hey! C'mon, sit for a sec." I patted the bench next to me and set a notebook down for him to sit on. I'd learned the hard way that concrete gets awfully cold in the winter.

"Don't wanna interrupt, man." He looked at Sandy, then at me, then shrugged and sat down.

"You're not interrupting anything, right, San?" I turned and begged silently that she not say anything; she knew I liked Angel a lot, but I didn't know if I was ready for him to know. I sighed quietly and wished for this to go away; I hated these emotional inconsistencies that seemed to be the rule of my life these days. Made me very glad to be male; I could remember how Jan had been, and figured being a girl would have been worse still.

"Not a thing. We weren't getting much studying done, anyway." She shifted and kicked my ankle. "Introduce us, squirt."

Did I mention that Sandy sometimes got a little too enthusiastic in her roll of best friend/big sister? I shuddered visibly and blushed at the thought of anyone--especially Angel!--hearing that nickname, then sighed. "Sandy Roberts, Angel Ramirez. Angel, this is my friend Sandy."

"Nice to meet you, Angel. It's good to see Randy meeting people--he was a pretty shy guy when he got here last semester."

Angel laughed, but it sounded--odd. "Randy--shy? That's hard to picture." He gave me a long, assessing look, his eyes like black ink--deep, dark, fathomless.

"Maybe now it is; six months ago he hardly opened his mouth." She stood up and gathered up her stuff, giving me a strange look I couldn't interpret. "Randy, I forgot I promised Brian I'd call him today. I gotta get going."

"See you in class." I gave her a smile, but my mind--and my focus--was on Angel. I heard her laugh softly and offer a goodbye to Angel, then she was gone, and we were alone.

"So who's Brian?" Did I imagine it, or did he shift a little bit closer to me? I had to force my brain to translate the words he'd just spoken; English was suddenly sounding a lot like Latin--and none of it made any sense.

"Um--Brian's her boyfriend. Er, fiancee, I guess. I think they got engaged last weekend." I couldn't remember now if she'd actually told me, or if she was still just thinking Brian was going to ask her. I tilted my head a little and blinked. He was closer. "Why?"

"I thought--" He took a deep breath. "Shit, Randy--I thought you two were…y'know." He reached up and touched my cheek briefly, then dropped his hand, looking around us. "I didn't know what to--think. I know…" Another swallow, and I could almost hear him thinking, the expression on his face was so intense. I wanted to grab his hand, wanted to kiss him, wanted to do so many different things I knew I wouldn't do.

"S'okay, Angel." I laughed, a little shakily. "I didn't…it never occurred to me to tell you about Sandy…she's just--just a friend. Kinda like a big sister; she watches over me. I think she thinks she adopted me, or something." I felt a little sick to my stomach, the excitement was surging so strong inside me. He'd touched me! Something more than just a quick pat on my shoulder or back. Oh, my god, he'd touched me!

"Dude, I gotta get going; got class in a few minutes. You wanna come over tonight, study at my place? You said you have a test tomorrow." The moment was past, and part of me was mourning it, and part of me was glad. I still wasn't sure I wasn't going to throw up in a minute. "We can get some takeout, or I can throw some sandwiches together for us."

"Yeah--that'd be great." I was almost breathless, he was still so close. I'd never wanted to kiss anyone as badly as I wanted to kiss him, right then. "Pick me up?"

"Meet me outside the library at 4:30." His hand reached out, and he brushed one finger over my thigh, then stood up abruptly. "I'll see you, Randy."

I managed a smile, and a game, "See ya", and watched him stride off.

My older sister, Jan, had had one crush after another, once she hit her teens. Three years older than me, she'd been decades ahead of me as far as puberty and emotional growth went. Once in a while, when she'd deign to come down and visit the little people--in other words, me--she'd tell me, "just you wait, Randy. Someday, you'll find the right person and you'll have a crush on them…you'll be in love then, too". Then she'd pinch me, or something else, and set off the next round of brother-sister squabbling.

Was she right? Did I find that someone? Was I in love with Angel? I wished I could ask her now… Wished I could ask Mom, or even Dad. Would they understand that I liked guys? It hadn't ever really come up before; I think Mom knew…but now I'd never know for sure. I could talk to Sandy, but that would have to wait. Whether she meant it about the phone call, or not, I didn't know--and hanging around the girls' dorm wasn't something that held a lot of appeal to me.

Not for the first time I wished I was older. Older, maybe better looking, not so awkward. And I wished I had some experience with relationships--something to tell me what to do, and how I was feeling. I sighed and stood up, gathering my books and backpack. Might as well go to the library; there was always something I could study, or research I could do. And it would at least be warmer in there.

*****

My yawn caught me off-guard; I hadn't realized I was getting sleepy, 'til then. I glanced up at the clock Angel had over the counter, and was surprised to see it was nearly 10pm. I'd been studying for four hours straight. Well, I either knew the material, or I didn't. Cramming any more, at this late hour, wasn't going to do me any good. Angel looked like he was asleep on the couch; he'd quit studying about an hour ago, and the book he'd been reading was laying across his chest. I got up and stretched, feeling the pleasant burn when my muscles shifted and pulled. Another yawn followed, and then another. I almost started out of my skin when a low, warm voice rolled over me.

"Need to get you home, Randy. You're gonna fall asleep on your feet in a minute."

"I thought you were asleep," I started, accusation in my voice. One eye opened to stare at me, then closed again, though a slow smile curved over Angel's face.

"I was dozing. Too restless to sleep." He shifted up and swung his legs around, making room for me. "C'mon, sit down for a minute." A fond look crossed his face, chased by a frown. "You're so young to be studying so hard."

I sat down, trying to figure out what was going on. Was he still asleep? "Angel--we've had this discussion before."

"I know. I just--I worry about you, man. You're so intense…so focused."

"Nothing wrong with some focus. You're pretty focused too, even if you're an old man." I still didn't get what he was getting at, but figured a little teasing might lighten his eyes a bit. 'Old' wasn't completely accurate either; he'd turned 19 just a few days before we met. So, we were about two years and eight months apart--which sometimes seemed like nothing, and sometimes seemed like forever.

He laughed at me then, though there was still a trace of a frown in his eyes. "You know what I mean. I pale in comparison to you. And I don't see you with many other people--once in a while, but you seem to spend all your time either with me, or studying…and you do that a lot, when we're together."

His voice drifted off, and I frowned, really lost now. "You study a lot, too--"

He waved his hand. "When I saw you with Sandy this afternoon, I--" Angel's eyes focused on me, and that breathless feeling washed me again. There was something in those eyes--the something I'd been hoping for six weeks to see. He took a deep breath and swallowed. "I was--jealous--Randy. I…want you…all to myself. The thought of you…with anyone else…" He reached a hand out and touched mine, his fingers closing convulsively around my hand when I turned it over.

"I don't--want anyone else, Angel." I could feel the heat on my cheeks, and was grateful it was semi-dark in the living room. Bad enough to be blushing; I didn't need him to see it too. My voice was hardly more than a whisper, and I felt like all the oxygen in the room had just left in a whoosh.

"I'm glad." His voice sounded tight, a little hoarse. I couldn't breathe, couldn't talk, couldn't do anything then, but watch him shift closer to me. The funny, tight feeling in my stomach intensified when Angel tilted his head down toward me, his lips part way open. I stared at him, my confusion and anticipation mirrored in his eyes, watching him come closer. At the last minute I closed my eyes, just as his lips touched mine.

Oh, god, it was sweet. Soft, easy; his lips felt so good touching mine. I wanted more, so much more, but I wanted to never move from that spot, nor to have that moment end. One of his hands came up to touch my hair, his fingers sliding easily through, cupping my head. I tightened my grip on his other hand, and leaned into the kiss, opening my mouth for him, giving a soft moan when he touched my lips, then my tongue, with his.

I heard a soft sound when he pulled away, almost like a sob. To my surprise it was Angel, panting harshly, his eyes large and luminous in the near-dark.

I licked my lips, tasting him there, and scooted closer to him, shuddering when he wrapped his arms around me. "Again, Angel. Kiss me again." I leaned in toward him, nuzzling at his neck, then letting my tongue touch his lips.

"Jesus…yes…" He shifted us about, until I realized what he was trying to do, and laid back, with him following me down. There was something inherently satisfying about his weight pressing down against me, though he kept a lot of it off me and propped on his arms. His lips traveled over my neck, and up over the curve of my jaw before he touched my mouth again. Soft, gentle kisses, tasting me, letting me taste him. "Randy… God, Randy…"

I wiggled under him and wrapped my arms around him tightly, pulling him to me as I opened my mouth against his. My words were whispered, rough with the emotions I was feeling. "I know… I feel… I feel it too…"

Then I couldn't talk any more because his mouth was fully on mine, his tongue playing in my mouth. So many things rushed through me then; it was like hot and cold colliding inside of me. Every touch of his mouth made my body jump, desire rising up hot and powerful within me. I let one hand wander cautiously over Angel's back, feeling the bunch of muscles there when he shifted. Such a fluid strength and grace there, and I could touch it. I shivered at the thought, and slid my hands around some, just feeling all the broad, warm back. His turn to shiver, and Angel's mouth left mine, kissing a path over to my ear. When he breathed into it, I laughed, squirming away from him.

"Tickles…Stop, man…"

That made him do it again, a low, husky laugh echoing mine when he made me wiggle. On one such wiggle upward, I bumped into his erection, feeling the heat from it, and the jump from him when I contacted it.

"Randy." His voice was tight, his body tighter. A strange frisson of excitement coiled through me at the thought that I did that to him. I wiggled upward again, grinding my thigh against him, hearing the soft moan. "Oh, god, babe, yeah…" He pressed back, rubbing against me, one hand shifting to stroke down my side.

"Y'like that, huh?" I wound my arms around his neck again, and pressed upward hard, rubbing my body against his, shifting so our erections could touch, even through our pants. "How 'bout that?"

"Yes--" It was more of a gasp than a word, and I grinned against his neck, biting gently, then sucking. It had the desired effect--Angel gasped again and rubbed harder against me. I hardly had a chance to catch my breath before his mouth came down on mine again, his tongue teasing at my lips, tickling before he sucked the breath out of me completely.

I'd just slid my hand under his shirt to touch warm, bare skin, when the lock clicked and the door swung open.

For half a minute I thought I'd imagined it, and wiggled against him a little, then Angel's voice whispered, "stay still." In a louder, more normal voice he called, "Hey, James." Damn, damn, and triple damn! Of all the nights for the oft-heard of, never seen roommate to put in an appearance!

"Angel. Didn't know you'd have company, guy. Sorry. I'll just be a minute."

"S'okay, dude. Take your time. This is your place, too." A gentle kiss landed on my neck, just below my ear, and I shivered when Angel whispered, "I need to get you back to the dorm. You need to sleep--not make out with me all night."

Privately I disagreed, but nodded anyway. He was right--staying up all night before the big test wouldn't do me any good…but it was hard to think rationally with my dick still throbbing in my pants, complaining loudly that it had been having a grand time, and wasn't ready to stop.

He waited until James was safely in the bathroom with the shower running, to get up off of me. Angel's hair was standing on end, and I reached over and ran my fingers through it, enjoying that I was able to touch it like I'd wanted to for so long. He reached up and stilled my hand, then brought it to his mouth and kissed the palm. "C'mon--let's get going."

I wanted to whine and pout like a little kid, but knew that if I wanted to be accepted as grown--and god, I surely didn't want him thinking I was a *kid*--I had to take the bad with the good. It was Wednesday night. Friday would be here pretty soon, and we could maybe try this again. I hoped. I had no idea if he wanted to, or if this was a lark. I shuddered at the thought that he wouldn't want to do this again.

When we were safely down in his car, Angel leaned over and kissed me soundly, letting his hand stroke over my chest and down to my crotch. My cock was still semi-hard, and I knew I was gonna have to jerk off before I went to bed tonight. At least I would have a good memory to do it by this time. Angel squeezed me gently through my jeans, then smiled against my neck.

"Think of me tonight when you do it."

"H--how'd you know?" God, I hated blushing so much. I was surprised when he took my hand and placed it against himself. He was still hard, and I stroked downward once, delighting in the soft moan I heard.

"'Cause I'm gonna do it too." He hissed when I squeezed, and kissed me again, hard. We were both panting when I pulled back.

"Take me back, Angel, or I'm gonna stay the night with you."

"Not tonight, man. You need your sleep." His voice was rough when he said it though, so I knew it was a difficult thing for him to say.

It took us another ten minutes to say goodnight in front of the dorm, between kisses and caresses, and I knew I didn't have to worry any more about how he felt. I wasn't 'just a friend'.

*****

Sandy nailed me first thing in the morning, in the cafeteria, while I was eating breakfast. She set her bookbag on my table, her smile ear-to-ear.

"You never said he was so good-looking!" I felt my face heat up, and she lowered her voice a little bit, leaning closer to me. "He really is, Randy. Geez… 'Angel' fits him so well."

"And good morning to you, too." I was tired and grumpy; jerking off hadn't been nearly as relieving as I'd hoped; I'd lain awake most of the night, tossing and turning restlessly, wishing for Angel's weight to hold me down.

"Did you know your entire face lights up when you look at him?"

I blushed redder and found my breakfast very interesting all of a sudden. "I feel…like I light up inside when he looks at me." I poked at the bowl of cereal as I mumbled, wondering why on earth I'd said anything after all.

Sandy dropped her teasing then and scooted closer, one arm going around me in a hug. "I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't pick on you like that, but you're awfully cute in that shade of red." She kissed my cheek, then leaned away to take a drink of her soda. "You like him an awful lot, don't you."

"I think--it's more than 'like', Sandy." I pushed my bowl away, for once not hungry. "San--how d'you know if you love someone? How'd you know you were in love with Brian?"

"Oh, Randy." She sighed and picked up my spoon, pulling the bowl closer to her. "It's like that, huh?"

I echoed her sigh and picked up my juice glass. "Yeah, 'fraid so. I can't think…" I set my chin in my hand and stared out toward the doors. "He's--great, San. Everything feels so good when I'm with him…I feel like I could conquer the world."

"Be careful, sweetie. You're still so young."

I shook myself and gave her a glare. "Why's everyone keep saying that? Y'all think I don't know just how old I'm not? Jesus!" I glanced away, swallowed down my juice, and pushed my chair back. "I know how old I am, Sandy. I know it's probably freakin' Angel out, 'cause he mentions it about once a week. But dammit, I know how I feel, too. And I--I care about him a lot."

I had to calm down. It wasn't a good idea for me to be this upset, just before I had a test to take. I looked over at Sandy and sighed again. She looked concerned, though not upset, but I felt bad anyway. "I'm sorry, San. It's just--frustrating, y'know? I feel like… like I'm trapped in this kid's body…" I gestured impatiently at my skinny, not-quite-six-foot body.

"I know, Randy. Been there, y'know." She looked at me curiously. "Have you guys, um--y'know. Done anything?"

"He--we kissed. Last night." I looked down at the table again, then up at her. "He was--jealous. Of you. Thought we might--y'know. Be together." I took a deep breath, then blurted it out. "Did you really have to call Brian?"

She grinned at me this time, and stood up, pushing the tray my way. "A lady never tells her secrets."

I snorted, but got to my feet as well. Doomsday in less than fifteen minutes. "Since when do you qualify for 'lady'?"

Her answer was an indelicate snort, but her eyes twinkled. We spent the walk to class bickering back and forth good-naturedly.

*****

I didn't see Angel at all during the day, but that wasn't unusual for a Thursday. On Tuesdays he was a slave to the Sciences department; on Thursdays he worked in the computer lab, dividing his time between his own projects, and helping those less computer-literate souls. It was pretty standard for me to not see him until our appointed 'meet-for-dinner' time at 5:30, in the cafeteria.

I was pretty surprised when I got inside the student center and found him waiting in there for me; it was only 5:00; he should have still been at the lab. The smile he gave me when he saw me coming though--man, it could have warmed the sun, it was so bright. He dampened it down after a minute, but it didn't change the warmth already curling through me. The oddest thing was though, I suddenly felt shy with him. I didn’t know what to say, or do. What the hell was the etiquette for something like this? You go from being friends and buddies to making out on the couch, then *poof*, you have no idea what to say to the guy? I didn't care for that at all.

"Hey, Angel." I stepped a little closer, not quite into his personal space, and gave him a goofy grin.

"Hey, Randy." A long pause, and I could see the confusion in Angel's eyes; it mirrored my own. After six weeks of getting past that, and getting to know each other, we were right back where we'd started. Awkward and uncertain, not knowing what to say or do. "C'mon, let's get outta here. We can eat at my place."

Relief poured over me at the suggestion, because I wasn't sure if I could stay in public and not totally embarrass both of us. I wanted to feel Angel's arms around me so bad; wanted to hear him whisper my name into my ear in that hot, honey-thick voice he'd used last night. I wanted to kiss him again--and I knew there was no way any of that was going to happen there, in the very public cafeteria on campus.

It was a ten-minute ride from campus to Angel's apartment, and I don't think we said a dozen words between the two of us. Awkward didn't even begin to describe it; that was mild, in comparison to what I felt.

"How'd you get outta lab so early?" We were nearly in his apartment before I remembered how early it still was.

"Told Saunders my head was splitting and I needed to go take something for it."

"Is it?" I stepped through the door and tossed my bookbag on the chair next to it, designated just for that.

"Depends on which head you mean." Angel's voice seemed deeper all of a sudden, and I shivered when it resonated through me. He kept his head down while he closed and locked the door, but when he looked up--at me--his eyes were warm and dark, drooping. I swallowed, my own eyes drifting downward automatically. He looked--I reached out and touched him, my hand shaking a little bit. He was probably partially erect.

"Because of me?" I could hardly get the words out, my mouth was so dry.

Angel nodded. "Because of you…for you…whatever." His eyes closed when I gave a little squeeze, feeling the pulse from his body all through mine. My own dick was pretty interested in what was going on, and throbbed sympathetically. I shifted a little closer, still stroking him, easy, gentle strokes. Every so often his whole body would twitch and his cock would get harder.

I leaned in against him, breathing in the scent that meant *Angel* to me. "You ever done this before?"

His hands stroked over my shoulders and back. "Not…not with another guy--" I could hear him lick his lips. "Have you?"

I shook my head and splayed my fingers over Angel's crotch, rubbing my hand slowly up and down, pressing a little bit. It was a pressure I liked when I jacked off, so I figured it would feel good. He moaned softly and thrust his hips forward, pressing against my hand. I increased my pressure, then answered his question in a breathless whisper. "Huh-uh. Just… me… Oh, yeah!"

He'd rubbed across my chest, catching one nipple, and I could feel the electricity from that touch tingle all through me. He rubbed again, stroking right over the nipple, and I could feel it get harder, rising to press against my T-shirt. God, it felt good! Nothing I'd ever done before felt this good--I was all hot, and liquidy inside, my body felt flushed, and weak and trembling… it was incredible.

I slung one arm up and around his neck, holding myself tighter against him. So much heat was pouring off Angel I was sure he'd incinerate both of us right there. But I wasn't sure I was any cooler; I felt like I was already on fire. It felt good. But it felt kind of… well, not scary…but it was strong. I pulled back just a little bit, gulping for air. Angel cocked his head and looked at me; his eyes were so dilated, they were all inky-black pupil.

"What's wrong?"

"Just--" I shook my head, not sure I could communicate it. "Too fast…too much…I don't know. It's--a lot."

"Yeah…" He breathed the word against my forehead, and I shivered. "You wanna slow down? Have something to eat?"

"No--about eating, I mean. Not for a minute." I held on to him, not wanting to let go, just feeling overwhelmed. There was so much power to what was rushing over me right now; not a bad thing, just so much. I didn't know how to deflect it, or sublimate it…I just had to roll with it. My stomach wobbled for a minute, and I clutched Angel tighter, loving how good and solid he felt against me. "Guess…guess we should slow down, too." I dropped my head against his shoulder and muttered, "don't wanna, though."

He smoothed my hair back, his fingers stroking gently. "I don't wanna, either, but you're right--it's… a lot."

I touched his mouth. "You make me want--stuff I don't even know how to express, Angel. I mean, I'm not like totally naïve, or anything. I know what sex is…I even kinda know what sex between men is supposed to be like. But I haven't… um…y'know. Done anything…"

"Nothing at all?" Angel unwound himself and stepped back a pace. I immediately missed his warmth, but I needed that space, too.

"Just--jerking off…and a coupla kisses with another kid who wanted to see how kissing guys was different from kissing girls."

"Didja like it? The kissing, I mean." He'd moved off to the kitchen and was rummaging through the fridge, probably looking for food. He tossed me a small bottle of juice and set his can of soda on the counter.

"I--it was okay. I, um…I like kissing you better." Even as I said it my dick throbbed; hell, my whole body throbbed. I was hot and cold, and horny and scared. I wanted him, I didn't have a clue what to do with that want. Or rather, I did--but I was scared of the knowledge I had.

"I like kissing you too, Chico." Hey, an endearment. Of sorts. I grinned at him, liking the way the word sounded kind of soft and dreamy when he said it.

"So now what?"

"Now," Angel grinned at me when my stomach rumbled, killing my original protest that I didn't want to eat. "Now we eat, Chico. Need to plump you up some." He brushed his fingers through my hair, then touched my mouth. I wanted to die, I felt so good then. Loved…? Maybe.

"I think I'm plump enough already." I grinned and thrust forward, letting the erection I hadn't lost yet brush against his leg. His smile felt like the sun coming out; I was warmed clear through.

"Yeah, I'd say so. But it was the rest of you I was thinking of." Another brush of his finger over my mouth. I kissed it, then sighed happily when he quit teasing and kissed me again. "Ah, Randy…yeah…I like kissing you, babe." The words were whispered against my mouth before I opened for him, letting him in to tease me more with his tongue.

God, he tasted so good. It made my head spin to think that I was doing this…that we were doing this. The kissing itself had a rather more devastating effect on me; my heart sped up like I was running in the Ten-K race, and my breath felt like it was permanently stuck in my chest. No oxygen circulating anywhere. I don't know how it happened, but we wound up on the couch with him pressing me down again, and my hands under his shirt, shivering when he moaned at my touches.

I stroked his back over and over, gaining a rhythm that was nearly the same as the one he was using to rub and grind against me. Our mouths were fastened together like they were fused, and all I could taste, feel, smell was Angel. It was the scariest, most exhilarating thing I'd ever felt. My heart was pounding so fast and hard I thought I was having a heart-attack, but all I could do was open my mouth wider, wishing Angel would climb right down inside me and devour me. My cock was so hard it hurt, and felt like I'd been jerking on it for hours, rubbing against my pants like it was. So hard, so sensitive, I needed to come so bad. And Angel… God, he was like iron against me; his body hot and sweaty, plastered against mine as we humped and rubbed and grinded ourselves together.

I came first. My stomach jumped and twisted at the same time that incredible heat drew me in and smothered me. I think I might have shouted into Angel's mouth; I know I grunted and groaned like I was dying. Truth was, I thought I was--no orgasm I'd ever given myself felt so good. It was like breathing and drowning and dying and living all rolled into one. I arched up hard against Angel's body, and felt the wet heat of my come coating me inside my shorts. Part of me flushed at having come in my pants; the rest of me was just floating in this incredible glow.

Angel reached down and gripped one of my hips then, holding me tight against him, and I shuddered when he broke our kiss to gasp out, "Randy!" as he thrust against me. I couldn't feel the wetness from his orgasm, but I felt the tremors going through him, saw the sweat beading on his face. I leaned in and kissed him, letting my tongue touch his skin, touch the sweat. It was salty…it tasted like him.

We held each other for a few minutes after that, just laid there plastered together, breathing like we were dying for oxygen or something. Which we kind of were, I guess. I kept my hands under Angel's shirt, needing to feel him, to touch him--to ground myself. My brain felt like it was on fire, or something… I was flying…and I felt…odd. Light-headed, so warm, to totally engulfed by what we'd shared. It was like this hot, bright glow inside me, centered in my belly.

"Angel…God, man…" I didn't know what to say; felt myself fumbling for words.

"Shhh. Shhh, Chico." He brushed his lips over my forehead, then my face, then touched my mouth briefly. When he pulled back just a fraction to look at me I whimpered, not wanting him to move away at all. He ran his fingers through my hair, smoothing it back. I was all sticky and sweaty. His voice felt like waves of heat rolling over me. "That was--ah, man, Randy." He brushed his lips over mine again, then smiled against my mouth.

"Hmm? What's funny?" I wiggled under him a little; now that the moment was past, he was getting a little heavy. I didn't want him to move though, and groaned when he did. "What'd you get up for?" God, I felt weird. Sticky. I wasn't used to creaming my shorts like that.

Angel actually blushed a little bit. Under that beautiful, dark skin of his, there was a hint of red. "It's--weird, Randy. I--that--" He stopped then, and bit his lip. "I wasn't planning that," he finished softly. "I wanted…to kiss you. It was all I thought of, all day. All fucking day, hard as hell, horny as can be; all I wanted was to kiss you…touch you; but I didn't plan on anything, I swear."

"Stop, man!" What was he doing here, apologizing? "Angel…man, I wanted it too…" I swallowed hard, wondering if I'd misunderstood things. "I liked it, Angel. I--I'd do it again…and again after that. I felt--good--when you were laying on top of me. Don't--apologize."

"You're--young, Chico. I feel…I don't wanna…y'know. Take advantage, or something. Shit." He wouldn't meet my eyes now, and I got mad. Mad enough to grab his chin in my hand. I was strong--still kind of skinny, but nearly as tall as he was. And I'd been working out a little bit in the last few weeks.

"Listen, man. You're--my first, yes. But…I wanted you, Angel. Still do." I couldn't believe I said that, and had to stop for a minute, just out of amazement. "I'm young, but I'm not a kid. I…like you. A lot." My turn to blush. I could feel it creeping over my face, but I held his eyes with mine stubbornly. I felt like I was fighting for my future or something. "Don't let my age freak you out, man. It's a number, 'kay? I'm--I feel old inside, some days. There's a lot I don't know yet…but there's a lot I do. And I'm a quick study."

"Yeah…I noticed." He mumbled the words, but there was a hint of a smile in there, and I let go of his chin. He reached up and touched my chin, then smoothed his finger over my lips, grinning at me. "You're a hell of a kisser for a novice, Taylor."

I snickered. "You're not too bad yourself, Ramirez." I reached down and shifted my pants. My boxers were starting to dry against me, and they itched.

"You wanna shower?"

"Um--together?" Brave words or intentions aside, that threw me. I wasn't sure I was ready for that step yet--

"No--you go on, go first. You can borrow some of--some clean shorts."

"Thanks, man." Relief? I don't know. I still ached for him, in spite of the orgasm just a few minutes ago. But it was a different kind of ache, and one I wasn't sure how to relieve.

We both stood up at the same time, bumping into each other. All awkward again; unsure of what to do, or what to say. I knew--deep inside myself--what I wanted to say. To hear. But I wasn't ready for either yet, and I knew he wasn't, either. In the end, neither one of us said or did anything. I kissed him once more, quickly, then headed off for the bathroom, anxious to end the awkward moment, and hoping that once we got more comfortable with--whatever--we'd get more comfortable, period.

*****

It got more comfortable. Not fast, and not all at once. But we both gradually noticed that we could kiss, and rub against each other, and make each other come…and afterward we could cuddle on the couch, just touching each other. We even got to the point where we could do it sometimes without clothes. And sometimes we talked about it, but mostly we didn't.

I walked around feeling like I was on a cloud--so lost in my thoughts that my feet barely touched the ground. Sandy teased me mercilessly about it, but it was no less than the ribbings I gave her about her excitement over the wedding she was planning.

Weddings weren't something I thought about a lot--how many sixteen-year olds do? But I did wonder sometimes where Angel and I were going with this--relationship. We weren't sure what to call it, exactly. We knew it was a gay relationship--we were boyfriends, doing all the same stuff guys and girls do when they date, but I wasn't sure enough of myself yet to say that out loud, and he was too confused about everything. I could hear the catch in his voice sometimes when he called my name as he came. It was something like desperation, like he wanted me so bad, but didn't, at the same time. I hated that--I wanted him to be happy and love me like I loved him.

Ah, man.

I did love him. A lot. I hadn't even hardly admitted it to myself…but there it was. I knew that he loved me, too--but he'd been raised in a vastly different environment than I had. I kept hoping that the more we were together, and the happier he got to be, the less it would bother him. And since it seemed to be working like that, mostly, I didn't push. I couldn't push, anyway. As slow as we were taking things, sometimes they were still too fast, and one or the other of us ended up scared, or unsure. Sex is a complicated thing at best; when you factor in teenage hormones and emotions, dealing with same-sex stuff, and the perpetual up-and-down, it becomes intensely weird sometimes, and occasionally overwhelming.

*****

Almost three months into the newer aspect of our relationship, things shifted again. A welcome, but unexpected shift.

"Comin' over for dinner tonight?"

We were sitting at one of the picnic tables, cramming some lunch down. Angel didn't treat me any differently on campus than he ever had, but his eyes looked at me in different ways. Ways that made me shiver inside, because I could usually tell what he was thinking about.

'Wanna come over for dinner?' usually meant, 'wanna make out tonight?', and I laughed, loving the innocent expression he was trying to present. "You're awfully see-through, Ramirez. Who d'you think you're fooling here, anyway?"

"A guy has to try, Chico. Can't have you thinkin' you know all my secrets, man."

"Yeah, yeah. You pickin' me up, then? *Some* of us are still short of wheels, y'know."

He winked at me, an almost-flirtatious little nudge with his eye. "I'll pick you up. Wanna do Chinese? Or order pizza?"

The nice thing about a college town is it has a lot of delivery/carry-out places. The bad thing about a college town is the same. I shrugged. "Whatever you want, man. I don't care, so long as it's edible."

Angel twisted his long body to pick up his backpack, and I caught my breath, never able to get my fill of looking at him. I never did figure out what it was about that particular moment that made me *so* aware of him--and of what I wanted from him. "Angel?"

He turned back, his smile fading when he saw the serious look I was giving him. "Yeah, Chico? What's wrong?"

"I--. Nothing's wrong…" I fumbled for the words; I couldn't explain it to myself, how was I going to explain it to anyone else? "I've been doing some reading--" I bit my tongue when he arched an eyebrow at me. This wasn't the place to have this conversation, not rushed like we were, but I'd been hauling it around inside my head for weeks, nearly. Since the first time we'd gotten completely naked together.

Angel re-seated himself, and looked at me. "Reading about what, Chico?" His voice was low, and even, so incredible to listen to. I shook myself, trying to remember that I had started this.

I let my eyes dart around; there were a lot of people all around us, but no one right near us, certainly no one listening.

"Um, sex. I mean--" I could feel the flush in my cheeks and willed it away. I was getting better at doing that; I hardly blushed any more. "Y'know. Fucking."

Angel wasn't expecting that--I could tell that much from the way his eyes widened; he got the most comically funny expression on his face. My embarrassment was almost worth it, just to see that look.

"What--about it?" He looked…scared, almost. Eyes wide, face a couple of shades paler. I couldn't say I blamed him. Much as I was curious, and wanted to try it, I'd seen him naked and close up. I wasn't looking forward to trying to fit that thing into my ass.

"I--" I swallowed, wondering when the Sahara had moved into my mouth. All the words, thoughts, arguments that had been residing merrily in my head for the last three weeks vanished into thin air. I sat there, gaping like a fish out of water. "I wanna try it," I managed at last, feeling almost sick, and a little giddy, just from saying it aloud.

He didn't say anything for what seemed like forever, though it was probably only a minute or two. For that entire span of heartbeats, though, I sat and wondered if I'd just fucked up royally. I hadn't pushed, the whole time; in truth, I didn't need anything more than what we had. Life was damn near perfect the way it was--why'd I have to go and fuck with it? The longer he was quiet, the more the panicked feeling in my chest expanded; it felt like a band of steel belted over me--I couldn't draw air into my lungs, couldn't feel anything moving inside me.

"Angel, I--"

"When?"

"Excuse me?" The question caught me so off-guard, I blinked at him, unable to process what he'd just asked.

"When--did you want to--y'know. Do it." His shrug was almost blasé; if I hadn't seen the look in his eyes, or heard the hesitation in his voice, I'd have thought he was asking me about the weather. I coughed, or squeaked, or something--made some sort of noise.

"I don't know. It's not like you plan it…"

"Sounds kinda like we--should, Chico. Isn't there--um," his voice dropped, and he whipped his head around, looking at the people around us, "stuff you need to do first?"

Funny, how we both assumed I'd take the bottom. I wonder if he knew it was what I wanted--or if he just assumed I would.

"Yeah. But, um, not in the dorms, 'kay? At your place." I couldn't even imagine doing what I needed to do--just considering that I would have to do it was embarrassing enough!--in the near-communal bathrooms in the dorm. No way.

"Oh--uh, yeah." His face colored a little, and he looked down to break the intensity of the moment. Surprise crossed his face. "Shit, man--we both have class in ten minutes!"

And that was the end of the conversation. We both stood up, gathering up books, bags, trash. This was the last week of class before finals; we both needed to get our minds back on school.

"See you--tonight?" I touched his arm just before he could head in the opposite direction from where I had to go. Angel turned a little and flashed me a warm smile; a smile that answered all the little voices that were still saying I'd fucked up.

"I'll pick you up in front of the dorm at the usual time. Um--" His face flushed again, slightly, then he took a deep breath. "Bring--stuff. Y'know, overnight. If you want. I mean, you don't have to, but--"

Overnight. All night. Oh, God. I took a deep breath myself, and nodded, not trusting my voice.

"See ya, Chico." He gave me a fond look, then a wave, and headed off into the crowd. I managed a hoarse whisper of something similar, then turned and started walking toward the quad where my class was.

*****

"Well, I guess that could have been worse." I muttered quietly as I moved around the bathroom picking up the towels and mopping up the water I'd spilled everywhere. My face still felt hot, though, and I knew if I looked in the mirror it would be flushed, red. My experience with my body, other than just jacking off, was limited. Internal cleansing had been a very new, eye-opening experience.

In spite of the fact that we'd touched each other a lot, we hadn't done much--Angel hadn't done much to me--in the way of ass-play. A little here, a little there. Mostly touches, and once he put his finger inside me--that was what had sparked the idea of wanting all of him inside me. I'd liked the sensations that had sizzled all through me--I'd wanted more. Most of the time. In rational moments, when I could see clearly, I would wonder what the hell I was thinking. I'd touched myself since then; put my own finger up my ass. It was a very small hole--and while I wouldn't say Angel was huge, he was pretty good sized. It promised to be uncomfortable, at the very least.

"You alive in there?" He knocked on the door, his voice a little tighter than usual.

"I--yeah. I'm fine, man." I hadn't yet thought of an endearment to call him--other than his name. I wasn't sure why I thought I needed one; I probably didn't. But I loved when he called me 'Chico'--like it was a special name, because only he called me that. And sometimes, when he called me 'babe', that was okay, too. I shuddered in revulsion at the thought of calling him (or being called) something like honey or baby--or worse. "Be out in a sec."

"Dinner's here, too."

"Okay." I pulled on a loose, clean pair of shorts, then examined myself critically in the mirror. I had filled out some in the last four months; working out had helped, as had the swimming I'd started doing again. He was still bigger, but not by much. It was easy to see that when I finished growing and filling out, I'd be as big, at least. I had a fair amount of body hair now; dad had been pretty hairy, and I seemed to be following in his footsteps. I rubbed my hand over my chest, then stroked downward, following the path as the hair thinned out, became sparser, down to my groin. Dark hair, a little too long, curling around my ears. Dilated green eyes stared back at me, a little owlishly, because it was hard to see even as far as the mirror without my glasses. I smiled at myself, and it looked a little forced--and I had to admit, I was a little scared. Scared to try it; scared not to. Scared of so many, many things I couldn't even give voice to them all. I sighed, put my glasses on, and opened the door.

"Thought you maybe drowned in there, or something." Angel was sitting on the couch, two plates of Chinese takeout on the small coffee table. A can of soda for him; a bottle of juice for me.

"Just gettin' clean." I stumbled over the last word, feeling like I was going to itch out of my skin from all the emotions circulating through me. I wanted him, I was scared, I was excited, and I was a little turned-on at the thought of what we were going to do.

"Good." I wasn't sure what he meant by that, exactly--good I was clean? Good I hadn't drowned? I wasn't about to ask, though. There are limits to bravery and valor, and we'd reached mine.