Alex

The first time I see Alex, he is naked.

I struggle uphill with my suitcase from the university bus stop to what looks like the main entrance. I try to convince the receptionist that I speak French. I sign my name and he passes me the room keys. As I leave, he says undecipherably,

"Votre colocataire, Alexandre, est déjà là."

Still wondering about this pronouncement, I pull the suitcase up another hill towards a group of brick buildings. Is this place built on a mountain? Then it hits me. Shit! A roommate. I have to share my room with someone else. This is not good; I need my own space. I try all of the keys to get into the accommodation block, and then find the room on the third floor. It's cloudy and humid, I'm sweating. It's not what I expected in the South of France, well, maybe the heat. I'm only here for a week. How bad can it get?

I open the door. Alex is stretched out on the bed, reading a book. His feet are crossed, pillows doubled up beneath his head. Alex's mop of dark hair and his olive skin contrasts against the white linen. He looks up with hazel eyes. A mole on his cheek perfects his face. I am intimidated both by his beauty and by his nudity. I glance away, moving quickly to the remaining bed.

Alex says something that I don't catch, so I reply, "Bonjour." It seems appropriate.

I want to stare at Alex, but I know that I can't. I'm twenty years old, gay, and very much in the closet. Speaking of closets, I can't open my locker. I mess around with the keys, but none of them turn the lock.

"Tu dois obtenir la clé à la réception," Alex says.

"Où est la clé?" I try.

Alex immediately switches into English.

He smiles, "Sorry, I saw your name on the list and I thought you would be French."

"I'm Alex. Théodore, it's often a French name," he says.

Not in this case, I'm tempted to make a snide remark. I realize that I'm being defensive, Alex is trying to help me. Anyway, I need to go back to reception and ask for my locker key.

I descend the hill to the office. The reception guy isn't there, instead his replacement is an older woman. There's a queue this time, probably because she's handing out the right keys. Eventually it's my turn. I explain that I have already registered and that I need the locker key. There is some tutting and one of my keys is replaced by another. My key is given to another student waiting in the office. I return back towards the block; all the time I'm thinking about Alex. When I reach the front door, Alex is leaving with a girl. He is wearing shorts and t-shirt now, but his feet are bare. Alex doesn't recognize me, he is laughing with the girl. I feel an edge of disappointment and jealousy. At least I will have the room to myself to unpack.

There is an orientation meeting that evening. The room is mostly full of girls and Alex sits with his friend. He writes a few lines in a black notebook. I have my laptop. I discover that Alex is studying philosophy in Paris. I wonder why he's taking a history of art summer school. It's my subject, and I want to explore everything that the course has to offer. We are given our class lists for the week. I find my name. I don't share any classes with Alex apart from the field trip on Tuesday. That will make things easier, less awkward. I go back to the accommodation, Alex doesn't return that night.

I wake early on Monday morning. The room is already full of light from behind the thin curtains. There is no air conditioning. It was hot and I'm sleeping naked, half twisted in a sheet. Seeing Alex sleeping in his bed, I feel embarrassed by my exhibitionism. He must have come back when I was asleep. I wrap my towel, find my clothes, and walk quietly down the hallway to the showers before they get busy. I pick up my bag on the way out so that I don't have to return to the room, I'm glad that we don't have to speak.

On Monday evening it is still hot and cloudy. The room is suffocating after being closed all day, so I open the window. I hang around in the tv lounge; the news says that Nasa has landed a rover on Mars. When the room is bearable again, I go to bed. Alex isn't there. I wrap myself in the sheet.

We meet the coach outside reception for our field trip to the museum. The vents blow streams of frozen air. After that, the temperature is more tolerable. We arrive at the museum, there is a sprinkling of rain from a dark cloud, but it passes quickly. We form into our groups outside before being led into cool rooms with high ceilings. Fans turn to move the still air. I'm cruising Alex, I can't help it, I'm trying not to get caught staring at his tanned calves. Our eyes meet too many times, so I have to make a conscious effort not to look at him at all. Alex charms everyone, even making our severe guide laugh.

Later, I'm sitting with my laptop at the desk in our room. I diligently read up on some of the works in the museum, researching the newly introduced artists. Alex arrives back naked from the shower, nonchalantly carrying a towel which he throws onto his bed. He stands behind me, looking over my shoulder.

"What are you reading?" he asks. He lightly touches a finger on each of my shoulders.

Being so close to a naked man makes me freeze. I can't think. I mumble something that I think is clever but is pretentious at best. Alex shrugs. He gets dressed and brushes his hair in the mirror, taming the mop into a sophisticated style.

"See you later," he says.

The next time I meet Alex it is Wednesday afternoon. There is a break in our schedule. There's a grassy square below our window and I am reading on a bench near a chestnut tree.

"I'm going for a walk, do you want to come?" he asks.

"Sure!" I'm flattered by the invitation.

We walk across the car park and then cross a sports field. Climbing over a low wooden fence we reach a gravel track. We are led gently uphill into some pine woods. We talk about the book that I am carrying and the museum. After twenty minutes the track fades to an end, blocked by a deep ravine slashed into the hillside. A narrow path climbs steeply to our left along a ledge, but it's clear that we have reached our destination. I can hear a stream bubbling gently, covered over by ferns. The trees stand above us, motionless in the still air and made taller by the slope of the ground. I can smell the wet rock and pinewood.

Alex removes a yellow packet from his back pocket and takes out a cigarette before sitting. We talk for an hour about university and the future. A wasp comes, but it ignores us. We laugh about others in our class, I don't ask about the girl. I am falling under Alex's spell, my hurt feelings are gone. I enjoy the company after a lonely week.

In the next moment Alex lies down, resting his head on my lap. Immediately, he feels the semi erect cock that I'm trying to hide. I'm horrified, I bring up my knees and cover myself with a hand. Alex springs to all fours, laughing.

"Have you got a monster in there?"

"I'm sorry, it's the heat," I say.

"Ssshhh, relax."

Alex shifts to sit behind me, pulling my hand away. I'm inside his thighs, I can smell his sweat and the cigarette smoke on his breath. He's slightly shorter than me. He leans forward and pushes his hand under the waistband of my shorts and starts to tease my cock.

"Do you like that, Théo?" he asks, playing with me.

I don't know how to reply. This is the first time another guy has touched my cock. His hand moves faster. I know that I don't want him to stop.

"Do you like that?" he repeats.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"What do you want?"

"I want you-" I say, gasping suddenly as he gives a powerful tug.

Alex's hand moves rhythmically with purposeful strokes. My cock is sweaty after walking, it feels raw, but I'm far past the point of return. As I cum into my shorts I tip my head back. I lean onto Alex who pushes back forcefully. For those seconds, my prudishness is forgotten and I am a convulsing animal caught inside his legs. Alex is unrelenting, until he is torturing my cock.

"Stop, fuck, stop!" I scream, totally drained and not in control of my senses.

Cum seeps through the fabric. We both breathe heavily, we lie back tangled on the ground. Alex laughs, wiping cum from his hand onto my t-shirt.

The rain starts, and within a few seconds it becomes torrential. We run back along the track. At the sports field we stop, exhausted and already soaked. We walk back to the room in silence. I shower first. I change into smart clothes and hurry to join the rest of the class for our dining event. A professor gives a speech. At dinner, Alex smiles at me across the table and then pretends that I do not exist.

On Thursday morning I wake late. Alex did not come back to the room after dinner, but now he is here in faded jeans and a polo shirt.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, I'm not sure-" I say.

Alex stops me with a smirk. I smirk back, forgetting the pretence of my apology.

"I want to go to the city," he says.

"But we have class this morning."

"It's just one day, it will be fine."

We walk to the bus stop, avoiding the distant figure of the professor. I savour the conspiracy. The blue sky is cloudless with a fierce sun, heat radiates from the pavement, crickets chirp loudly from the verge. The bus arrives as we do. We run the last hundred metres to get on board.

We crawl slowly through the town, stopping frequently, and reach the bus station after fifty minutes. There is a shopping street with a labyrinth of side roads leading to quiet squares. We turn back from a sleepy residential quarter with shuttered windows and dusty cars. The main street is busier now, the cafes are opening.

Alex takes my elbow and pulls me across the road. We reach the far side and I realize that he is steering me into a gay bar, a rainbow flag flies above the door. I burn with embarrassment, but then I am inside. It's still early and the place is almost empty. Two old men look at us from the corner. I can feel the redness of my cheeks and the prickle of my brow. A younger man is making coffee behind a large wooden bar, a woman is wiping tables at the back. Alex moves towards a table beside a shady window overlooking a side street, people outside pass unconcerned.

The woman stops cleaning and comes with an order pad. I imagine that we will have coffee, but Alex asks for two beers. I snigger at the naughtiness of our daytime drinking, knowing that my idea of debauchery is laughable. Our drinks arrive and we are left alone. Alex asks if I enjoyed the walk yesterday, and I say that I did. I tell him that it was my first time. He asks if I am gay, I thought this was a settled issue. I ask him the same question.

"Sometimes. It depends on the guy," he says.

"What about me?"

"Fuck, yes. For big Théo," he raises his forearm, grinning lewdly.

We laugh together, the old men look neutrally across. The world does not explode. My self-consciousness evaporates and I bask in the moment. The woman brings us some olives. We sip our beers slowly and then pay the bill.

Outside in the street again, I see a barber shop. I need a haircut. Alex suggests that I try my French. In the end, he translates. The barber is an athletic guy around our age with a sharp parting and a t-shirt to show off his muscles. Alex sits at the back. I watch him in the mirror while the guy cuts my hair in silence. We both enjoy the scene.

The cut is more edgy than my usual look, I don't know if this is because of the barber or Alex's explanation.

"You look awesome. Like a billionaire porn star," Alex says. I take this as a compliment.

Still buzzed with beer, we go to the park. We sunbathe topless in our jeans until we are too hot. Then we sit in the shade of some trees and get ice cream for lunch. We play a game, scoring passing guys on their looks or dress sense. I tell Alex that he's not a ten. He laughs, launching at me. I fall back onto the grass to escape him, but he straddles on top like a school bully. His fingers twist my nipple.

"Say I'm a ten," he says smirking.

"Say it!" It hurts.

"You're a ten! You're a ten!" I say.

We wander along a river embankment next to the park, there is a breeze from the water. We talk more intimately than yesterday. I want to ask about the girl, but I am afraid that it will break what we have, so I let it slide to the back of my mind. Alex has been to clubs and he has fucked guys. I tell him that I have never been fucked. I unpack some pornographic fantasies, and he magnifies them with ridiculous embellishments to amuse me. He asks, dead pan, if I will drink his piss. Fuck off, I reply. We find the bus station and get back to the university in the mid-afternoon. I take a nap and then go to the library to catch up.

That night Alex comes back to the room around ten. He takes my hand and pulls me over to his bed. We rest on top of the sheets on the narrow mattress. I'm drowsy after our adventure. It's still hot and we strip our clothes, letting them fall off the bed onto the floor.

Alex reads his book under a lamp. I look at the boring white cover and the French printing. The curtains are open to let air through the window, but the room feels like our private space. The dark limbs of the chestnut tree stand guard outside. I hear music playing in a distant room. Alex's cock presses against my thigh. I reach with my hand and slowly begin to massage it, growing accustomed to touching it. More confidently, I cup his balls, looking into his eyes. Alex doesn't return my gaze but grins. He puts the book on the nightstand, then stretches, reaching for a small bottle of lube. He closes his eyes, his shoulders push into the linen to arch his back. It takes about ten minutes as I experiment with different strokes, watching his face closely. I dare to touch the mole on his cheek with my tongue. I track the flickering of his lips, his brief smiles and listen to his staggered breathing. I want to hold him in a perpetual state of near ecstasy. I want to make him as infatuated as I am, to trap him selfishly for myself. Then his head goes back, tension flooding his muscles. He gasps, thrusts his hips forward and lets a pulsing stream of cum fly along his body. He releases his breath and opens his eyes as if waking from a dream. I see his pupils focus, surrounded by rings of hazel lightning in a sea of pure white.

He kisses me for a few seconds, and then we hold each other. We press together with Alex's cum between our stomachs. His cock smears my leg and the sheet, the lube is oily on my hand. After a while, I fall asleep, my ass and one shoulder blade against the wall. It's still dark when I wake and cooler. I cross to my own bed and stretch out under the sheet, falling back to sleep.

Friday is the last full day of the course. My eyes open to bright sunshine. Shit! I know instinctively that I'm going to be late. I can hear the cleaning staff talking in the corridor. Alex is gone, bastard! There isn't time for a shower. I cover myself in deodorant and pull on a fresh t-shirt, hoping to hide the smell of last night. The room is a chaotic mess. Snatching my bag, I run down the hill, leaving my laptop on the desk.

At lunchtime I return to the accommodation to shower and retrieve my laptop. Alex's bed linen has been changed, and my discarded clothes are neatly folded with his in a pile on top of his sheets. Crossing to his bed, I take back my shorts and t-shirt. I pick up his reading book from the nightstand. Inside some passages have been highlighted in green and pink, I find the language difficult. I read a highlight, near the beginning,

"Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do. An odd moment in the afternoon. Today it is intolerable."

That evening I work naked at the desk, waiting for Alex. He doesn't come and I lose my ardour, but the room is more comfortable without clothes and I revel in my liberation. It's nearly dark when the key turns in the lock, my heart twists at the unexpected reawakening of my plan. Alex comes into the room; the girl is behind him looking in from the doorway. My hands leap to cover my nudity. She giggles and steps back into the corridor. Alex smiles diplomatically. He picks up his wallet and leaves. The door closes behind him and my head touches the desk in shame. I hear the girl laughing. I wait for the safety of the clunk of the fire door at the end of hallway; then I get dressed and switch on the light.

Thirty minutes later, Alex returns alone. His smile is gone. In his hand is a packet of condoms from the vending machine in the gent's toilets next to the bar. He turns off the light switch, the lamp in the square paints a strip of light halfway along one wall. I walk through the strip and he kisses me hard forcing me backwards. My ass is stopped by the desk. He grabs my shorts, finding my hardening cock, the material twisting uncomfortably against my balls.

"Do you like that, Théo?" he asks.

"Yes, I do."

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes."

"Say please, Théo!"

"Please fuck me, Alex."

The smile comes back to Alex's lips. He pulls my t-shirt over my head, and I step out of my shorts. Alex seats me on his bed and indecently outlines the rock-hard erection inside his jeans at my eye level. He pushes me back, laying on top to lick my face, grinding the denim onto my cock. He lifts my legs at the knee.

I feel the cold slime of lube and a finger enters my ass.

"I love your tight asshole."

I panic, my heart pounding in my ears. Sensing my situation, Alex pulls me into a sitting position. I feel dizzy. One hand starts to work my cock while he licks my ear and neck.

"It's okay, baby. I won't hurt you!"

The panic leaves and we kiss. He puts his palm on my chest guiding me gently. I lay back, lifting my legs for him, holding my knees. Alex kicks out of his jeans and throws his t-shirt next to them on the ground. He retrieves the condoms from the desk, stretching one over his cock.

"You're so pretty, Théo," he says. I know this is flattery from Mr. Ten, but somehow I love it.

I feel his cock tip grazing my ass. Slowly he pushes inside, then it's easier. Then I feel like I'm taking a massive dump.

"Relax, big Théo."

The cock comes in further and there is an intense pain in my ass. The cock comes back again, a wave of pain. I screw up my face, I feel tears beginning to sting my eyes. Another wave of pain. I smell shit. I'm hit by a feeling of nausea.

"Fuck, fuck, stop!"

"Please, Alex!"

Alex backs out, a momentary look of angry frustration crossing his face. He pulls off the condom and casually throws it on the floor. I know that I have disappointed him. Alex finds the cigarettes in his jeans. He leans against the windowsill, blowing smoke from the window to avoid the fire detector. I sit on the bed, watching the lean contours of his naked body in the sodium light.

I'm conflicted but I realize that this is an opportunity.

"I want to suck your cock," I say.

Alex looks across with a dirty smile. He makes a whistle, pointing at the floor between his legs. I excitedly scoot across the room and take his cock in my mouth, while he continues his smoke. I'm glad that he is happy again. I start to suck, putting into practice all that I have learned from pornography.

"Suck my cock, bitch," he says. He looks down, laughing. I regret telling him my fantasy.

"Cocksucker whore!" his smile is incapable of meanness, but I gag. It's not as easy as in the porn clips.

Alex finishes the cigarette, stubbing it out on the ledge outside the window.

"Théo, if you keep sucking my cock, I am going to fuck you," he says seriously. I carry on, letting that be my decision.

Alex's cock is hard now. He steps back from my mouth.

I sit on Alex's bed while he puts on another condom with a glistening new string of lube. He takes my hand and pulls me powerfully to my feet. The momentum carries me the short distance across the room to my bed. I feel his hand on the back of my neck as I go down face first. I sprawl, inelegantly. His knee pushes my left leg forward as he mounts behind me. My other leg hangs off the bed. His other foot is on the floor. He clasps my right hand, interlocking his fingers above mine, forcing them down into the mattress. I am bigger than Alex, but I can feel his strength and experience.