"Lincoln, are you listening?" Khalid squeezed my shoulder, but I didn't turn back towards him.
"Debate class, Arabic, Stay behind you! got it," I mumbled and Khalid said something else. It was there, across the courtyard where we were eating lunch on a rare not-killer-heat day. Behind a wall of glass windows I watched him twist and stretch into impossible positions. I wasn't sure why Ali ever let him leave the safety of the Hamad compound, but there he was.
A famous yoga guru was visiting Satra and of course Emerson was invited to participate in his expert level classes. I'm sure Ali was paying big for it. There were two other equally thin Arab men contorting themselves on either side of him. They were mocha bookends to show off his pale, but far-from-vanilla body.
It was the end of my first week and I'd worked endlessly to learn as much as I could. Mr. Hamad had said I could start business classes once I had passed to level 3 in Arabic. Mr. Bashir, the language teacher, was astonished how quickly I learned phrases and vocabulary. He actually smiled a few times. He had a gray tooth in front, but his approving grin still made me happy. I live for achievement.
I'd always been the best. School, sports, work. My dad raised us to do better than he could. My teachers were always surprised because they saw me as a dumb jock. Arabic was just another subject and it actually made sense to me.
I turned my attention back to Emerson. He had his legs up over his head again in inverted position and his shirt slumped down along a strained, impressive little six-pack. He had smooth white skin that looked like something my tongue would enjoy. My cock strained my pants, aching for that muscled little bubble ass he shoved towards the window.
"No way, Lincoln. No. Fucking. Way," Khalid said behind my shoulder as I mindlessly shoved salad past my lips.
"What? I'm just looking at the yoga. Maybe I should take the class sometime. It looks fun. I could stand to work on flexibility..." I said around a mouthful.
"He is so off limits. Trust me, we've all wanted a bite at that apple. He's never even alone! See that man sipping coffee and wearing a suit in this heat?" Khalid said.
I followed his finger to see a hulking pile of brown rocks with a pencil thin beard line across a handsome face watching Emerson intently and checking his phone. He had on an expensive suit and dark sunglasses that had him looking extra intimidating. "Oh," I sighed.
"No, no, no Linky-dink. That is not a good idea. You want to go to war with a family? That's how to do it. Seriously, off limits. That prince is well secured," Khalid put a hand on my arm with a gentle squeeze. He kept it there and rubbed my arm to calm my racing heartbeat.
"I'm just looking. I just... you know... he likes me. He needs friends. He seems alone. I just want to be his friend," I fumbled and took my eyes away from the beautiful show he provided. I reluctantly looked over at Khalid. He smiled unconvinced.
"Trust me. He's not alone or lonely. He's raising kids and planning charity events with his Lion's money. He has enough going on without you in the way... Let's get going. We can be early to the debate class. It's interesting. You'll like it. I promised Samir you'd be productive," Khalid said. He stood and adjusted the prominent bulge in his camo jogger pants.
"I don't feel like debating anyone. Why don't we hit the gym? I could use a good workout after this," I stood and pushed my erection to the side in my blue uniform pants. I needed to go work it off with Khalid. I gave one last look to the yoga studio and they were wrapped up. I froze. Emerson was crouched near a blue gym bag sipping a water bottle with one of those rubber sippy spouts. It made him look adorable.
I caught Emerson's bright blue doe eyes and he set his bottle down as a wide grin spread across his soft pink lips. He stood up and waved and signed "How are you?" through the tinted glass. I heard his guardian stand and soon caught his angry glare. Who would dare interact with his prince...
"Oh, hello... Samir's boy, right? I didn't recognize you. I guess you're ok," the guard said and sat back down when I nodded. He didn't know my name but knew to whom I belonged. I wasn't sure if that should offend me, but his size clearly intimated that it shouldn't. I nodded at him with an innocent smile and without correction.
"I'm good, Emi! I didn't know you studied here," I lied in signs to Emerson across the courtyard. His whole body smiled at that.
"I used to. I graduated, just taking yoga. Ali likes me to stay flexible," he blushed at that.
"Maybe you could show me some things!" I signed, looking for excuses to watch his beautiful moves. "I'm sure Mr. Hamad would like that." I came closer to the window. It must have looked weird to other people for two people to have a conversation with their hands from opposite sides of the glass.
"You should call him Samir, everyone calls him Samir. It's confusing that you don't. There are many "Mr. Hamads" in our home. I'm a Mr. Hamad too actually. Ali and I married in New York years ago so he could come and go in the US. Here it's not legal of course, but his family adopted me and gave me their name so I would be safe in the kingdom." Emerson signed and raised his ring finger to show a gold band. He pressed it against the glass and I saw a very tiny diamond lined script on it that shone, "Ali." This boy was marked.
I felt Khalid pull on my arm, smelled his cologne that buzzed like a neon pawn shop sign, and then felt his lips at my ear, "Let's go, Lincoln. We will be late."
I turned to see him give a wave and smile to Emerson. I instantly felt like punching him in the face for interfering with my game here. "So go without me," I growled.
"No," Khalid said, turning to me so Emerson couldn't see him. "This has gone far enough, boy," Khalid's voice was thick and threatening. It was just icy enough to snap me out of my fantasy. I thought of Mr. Hamad... er Samir... maybe I should call him that. I realized maybe Khalid was right. It was time to go.
I turned back to Emerson who looked confused and a little upset that we were turned away from him and talking which is actually quite rude. "So sorry!! He just reminded me that we have to go," I signed, "We have a class to get to... Debate." I must have looked as bad as I felt because Emerson was picking up on it.
"You ok? I mean... Are you happy?" he signed and offered a slight smile.
"I am," I signed with a lie. I couldn't ever be happy walking away from him, no one could... "See you at dinner." I forced a smile and Emerson returned it as the guard went inside the studio to fetch his things.
I stopped at the doorway and saw him clutch his water bottle as the guard hefted Emerson's bag over his shoulder, gave him a genuine smile, and nudge him towards the exit. The guard's adoring eyes indicated that he shared my crush. The boy was indeed well protected.
++++++
Debate class. It was nearly full when we got there. I didn't care anyway. There were 25 or so good-looking arab boys of various sizes, not an ounce of ugly in the whole bunch. They sat around tables making a box inside the room. Everyone was facing each other, quietly awaiting something.
I felt 50 eyes on me when we walked in and then they quickly turned to eye Khalid as though asking why he had brought me. He said something in Arabic that I didn't yet know and a few of them responded with smiles and laughs, maybe scoffs. I looked back at Khalid and he smiled warmly and pushed me towards two empty seats in the giant square of tables.
Khalid kept his hand on the center of my back just under my backpack, guiding me like a child. I went a few steps and then turned to him with an annoyed look. He gave me a disappointed look and shoved me towards the empty chairs. We took our seats and I took out my notebook and a pencil.
The door opened again and I saw Anders from my morning classes. He was guided by an Arab boy who nearly matched his stature, thin and light. Anders was nearly as tall as I am, missing it by just a few inches. But he was underdeveloped, thin, quiet, and missable. He always looked somewhat alarmed, anxious, on edge. Seeing him out of our normal three desk setup, he moved with a cautious grace as though he wanted to melt into the wall. It was actually pretty cute.
The boy guiding him did not address anyone. He looked almost as nervous and slight as Anders. I shook my head at the scene. Anders deserved better than that. It was the weak leading the weak. They took the last vacant set of double seats. Anders caught my eye and gave me a hopeful smile and a wave. I returned it with a sad look that made him cock his head sideways in confusion. I wished he could sign.
