Page 24

CHAPTER 24

ROUX

I t’s been four days on campus, and I love every minute of it. I love to stand under this one enormous tree and stare at the rows of flags in front of the administrative building. Every pride flag you could think of is represented here, lined up like the flags of the United Nations.

I’ll be honest. I’ve never been hugely into participating in Pride events. I don’t think there’s any reason why. They’re important, and I support them. I understand why they’re important. They’re even important to me.

Maybe it’s never come up. Maybe I just choose to support my community in different ways. Lix has always been “out,” and I wear the demisexual colors far more in support of him. I even commissioned his Edmonton Razors jersey in the demisexual colors as a surprise for him one year. I have probably a dozen jerseys of my brother as he’s moved around in the NHL, but I wear the demisexual Edmonton one most. It means the most.

It works out since that’s where he retired from as well.

Maybe I’ve always felt comfortable in my skin, and it’s just more important to me to support those I care about. The only time I’ve ever felt that Pride and supporting someone else has truly impacted me specifically is when I’m wearing my demisexual Edmonton jersey.

Until I stood in front of this building three days ago for the first time and looked up at all the flags. I could feel it resonate in my chest. It’s bigger than I am. My entire body breaks out in chills every time I look up at all the flags.

The rainbow flag is front and center, a little bigger than the rest, a little taller. The flag that holds all the others within it. On either side are the L and G—the pinks and oranges of the lesbian flag and the blues and greens of the gay flag. Flanking them are bisexual and transgender, and then they just keep going.

There’s a large informational panel beyond the flag park where they’re flying that talks about each flag, when they were adopted, and who designed them. There’s information there about the colors and what they represent. There are far, far more than I ever imagined there were.

Maybe that’s why I suddenly feel like Pride is so much bigger than I had thought. It’s not just a small handful of identities. It’s an enormous community of people who are all fighting the same fights.

My phone pings, and I fish it out of my pocket. My heart races in my chest, hoping it’s going to be Alka. He’s supposed to text me when he’s available for a quick kiss. It’s not him. It’s an email notification from admin telling me that they’ve reset my Pride Room password. Again.

One of the coolest things about the school is that they have their own social media and communication app called The Pride Room. It’s a no-holds-barred app, meaning anything goes. It’s also completely and utterly safe. The only way to gain access is to be actively enrolled or employed.

However, I keep locking myself out of it, which is why I’m not going to reset my password right now. I’m going to wait until I’m back in my dorm, so I can think about what to change it to and, most importantly, remember!

Before I can put my phone away, Alka texts me.

Alka

Office is empty.

Grinning, I slip my phone back into my pocket and head around the admin building toward the athletic building.

Having a secret boyfriend is turning out to be a lot of fun. There’s something especially hot about it. It’s not like I didn’t think Alka and Oscar were hot on Kala. I definitely did. They were. Are. And yeah, I felt many stirrings inside me when I was with them. Or thinking of them.

But it felt like we were building something deeper on Kala. The foundation wasn’t “You’re hot. Let’s fuck.” Attraction was never missing, but it just wasn’t as important as everything else we were forming.

I’m not saying it’s still not important, but the way my blood races as I pull the athletic building door open has me holding my breath to try to calm down.

In every building, the halls aren’t simply painted a solid color. There’s a theme in every one of them. Some of them are murals. Some are art. Each one has to do with Pride. The athletic building’s walls are painted as the flags themselves. They’re pretty cool. Two days ago, I wandered around the building just to look at them all.

Then I was almost late for practice because I couldn’t find my way back to the locker room. Serves me right for being curious. I had to call Alka and ask him how to get back to the locker room from the non-binary painted hall.

At least I have a good handle on how to move around the building now. I pass Alka’s door, peeking inside at him. He meets my eyes as I walk by. Down the hall is the door to the stairwell, and I push it open, making my way around the corner and into the empty space behind it.

Alka’s right after me. His arms come around me as his mouth lands on my neck. I drop my bags and spin in his arms. Our mouths come together .

He hums into my mouth as he presses closer. Closer. Our bodies are flush. Combined with the way he’s devouring me, there’s really no surprise that my dick is happy right now.

I turn us around and press him against the wall. Alka grins into my mouth before turning his full attention to kissing me thoroughly. He’s a master kisser. It’s like he took lessons. I love everything about it.

His hands run over my chest and down to my stomach where he lifts up my shirt. The feel of his hot hand against my abdomen makes me groan. My hips rock against him.

He smiles again.

One of his hands moves up to the back of my neck, controlling how I move so he can kiss me how he wants to. His other hand moves down.

My heart beats like it’s one of the drums in a rock band, the drummer beating away on it. His hand cups my dick through my pants, and I groan again. Fuck, I’m horny. I want his touch. I’m ready for his touch.

I shiver almost uncontrollably as he rubs me and reaches down to squeeze my balls. Then it’s back up to rub my head with his thumb before palming my length. All through my fucking pants, but I’m vibrating with excitement.

A door upstairs slams, the sound echoing in the stairwell, and we jerk apart. I inhale sharply as the world spins around me. Good lord.

Alka chuckles, his hands framing my face. “Sorry. That was a bad idea.” This time, when he kisses me, it’s softer. “Miss you.”

I sigh even as my blood continues to whoosh through my ears. “Miss you too.”

“Come over tonight. I’ll make sure you get an orgasm.”

More shivers race along my spine, and I nod. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

He kisses me again then backs away. “See you at practice.”

I release a breath, trying to cool down while I nod. “Yeah. Coach Harper’s cool. I meant to tell you that. ”

He grins. “She’s really great. Now go before I grope you some more.”

“That’s a strange threat.” His smile follows me as I grab my bags and head for the exit in the stairwell. This isn’t the first time we’ve used his stairs for a quick kiss. Or even for a longer kiss. We’ve definitely rubbed dicks through our pants together, but not with a hand. Gradual steps, I suppose.

My mouth waters as I remember the day at the nude beach when I sucked his dick in the outdoor shower while Oscar rubbed his dick against his hole. It was the single sexiest moment of my entire life.

I find a tree outside the building and take a seat under it. It’s just after one, so a perfect time for lunch.

Looking at the black and purple lunch box that I pull into my lap, I grin. I’ve learned a lot of things about Alka and Oscar since being here. Since they live so close, I make the short drive to their house every morning to say hi to Oscar. It’s the least I can do since they’re letting me use their car. Besides, it seems like a good excuse to see him every morning. I get to see Alka throughout the day in little stolen moments. Oscar isn’t quite as accessible, so I enjoy the trip in the morning.

Apparently, he always makes Alka breakfast and lunch, so when I showed up three mornings ago, he did the same for me. He’s done it ever since—not that it’s been long. I’ve only been here for three days.

The best three days.

Now, I pull my new lunchbox into my hands and open it to find a little sticky note with a heart sitting atop a whole lot more food than I can eat. The sandwiches are amazing. I swear, he must have worked at a delicatessen at some point in his life.

Unwrapping it, I take a bite and lean my head back, closing my eyes while I chew. So good. I’m going to text him after I’m finished and once my dick stops throbbing in frustration. I hear you, little guy. I’m desperate too .

My phone rings, and I wiggle until I can pull it from my pocket. It’s my brother.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he greets. “Good time?”

“Yep. Just eating lunch.”

“What’re you having?”

“A sandwich.”

“Sounds good. How’s it going so far?”

I sigh. “I love it here, Lix. The campus is amazing. It’s like Pride threw up, yet it’s done in a tasteful way. I love it. All the representation and inclusivity and… peace. It’s amazing.”

“I love that for you. How’s it going with your roommate?”

“Booker’s cool.” I shrug, though he can’t see it. “He’s a nice guy. A little scattered but cool.”

“And your team?”

“Good. I’ve made a few friends. I think.”

“That’s good to hear. How are your classes? Your coaches?”

“Coaches are the best. Hands down. My classes… You know, I was concerned about them since I was dumped into wherever they had room given how late we were in enrolling, so I have some random shit, but they’re turning out to be a lot of fun. Except calculus. I hate that.”

Lix laughs. “But how are you doing in it?”

“Meh. Not awful. The teacher’s pretty good at teaching. But I’m in this cryptic studies class that’s all about codes and old languages that turned out to have codes embedded into them. It’s got a lot of Illuminati vibes.”

“Cool. What else?”

I take another bite and think about what else there is to tell him. “The buildings aren’t named after prominent donors or local sites or anything like most campuses. These are all important people from the LGBTQIA+ community. Like the Alan Turing Building, which is where all the computer and digital science departments are. He cracked the enigma code during World War II, which was critical in changing the tide of the war, but he was left out of history because he was gay. He also committed suicide after being chemically castrated as a punishment for being gay.”

“Jeeze,” Lix says.

“Yep. The dorm I’m staying in was renamed in 2002 to Mark Bingham Dormitory. He was one of the men aboard Flight 93 during the 9/11 attacks who stormed the cockpit to fight the hijackers.” Chills race down my spine as they do every time I think about it. “And the campus center is the Sacred Band of Thebes, which were a troop of specialized soldiers consisting of 150 pairs of male couples. They were an elite force within the Theban army.”

“That’s really great. I love that.”

“Me too. I love that we’re honoring them, even if it’s after their deaths.”

“Sounds like Rainbow Dorset was a good move.”

“I wish I’d found this place first,” I say. “It’s really great.”

“You’re there now, and you have plenty of time to enjoy it.”

“I do. Thanks for helping me get here.”

“You’ve already thanked me. If you want to continue to thank me, keep your grades up, kick some balls, and have a good time. Okay?”

I smile. “I will. How’s Noah?”

“He’s fine. Camp is kicking his ass, but I think he likes it.”

I grin. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Well, we bought this house with the idea that we’d go room by room and remodel it, making it our own. I think I’m going to begin with the entryway. I’ve been watching videos, and it doesn’t need any construction so there’s no reason I can’t do it.”

“What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking maybe some ceiling details, but not popcorn texture. That’s tacky. Maybe something to frame in the room. Change up the lighting to something kind of elegant and put a rosette thing over it. I found this really cool luxe wallpaper that I think will look great on the one wall as a focal point. The biggest thing I’m going to do is lay some fancy tile. Maybe change out the door. Then it’s all about choosing pieces of furniture.”

“They make tiles that look like cobblestone,” I say. “You could totally make it look a little old school. You love old European vibes.”

“Ahh. That sounds awesome. I’ll look it up.”

“What’s Noah think about this plan?”

Lix laughs. “He doesn’t care at all. He nixes colors and vetoes furniture, but otherwise, he looks at me like a deer in headlights when I begin describing what I want to do. We chose this house because of the layout. It’s perfect. The style left a lot to be desired. The only construction we need inside are bathroom remodels and a kitchen rehaul, so those are going to wait for a bit while I make my way to those rooms. Hopefully, I’ll have a cohesive vision by then. One that goes together in every room.”

“Oh god. You’re going to make a fun house, aren’t you? Every room being different?”

I can hear Lix’s grin when he answers. “There’s a very good chance.”

“I can’t wait to see what you’ve finished when I come home for Thanksgiving.”

“Probably just the entry.” He snorts. “We’ll see if even that’s done. I’m a hockey player, not a painter, tile worker, or anything else.”

“It’s going to be amazing.”

“Let’s hope so. Keep your fingers crossed.”

With a smile, I take another bite of my sandwich.