Up for Air

"Trevor, it's for a good cause." I sigh, looking over at my friend, Jamie, who just spoke. Her hair was a rainbow of colours as the sun hit it, resting just over her shoulders but not quite hiding the tattoo of an eagle feather to remind her of her native american heritage. The Opal hair looked so good on her but everyone knew she was prone to a hair colour change. Her soft green eyes pierced through my own. I hated how well she knew me. I was a sucker for any charity cause.

"I thought ticket sales were going good though. That's what Aaron told me." That's not true. I haven't talked to Aaron in weeks. He started dating a twink he met at the local gay bar. I'm happy if he's happy. I just wish he wouldn't do this song and dance about us getting together everytime he was single. That guy is my kryptonite. Everytime he does it. Everytime I fall for it. He's also the Treasurer of the Frat that is planning the Halloween Bloc Party. They're throwing a party that goes all weekend and there's all these events going on where the Frat Boys of several fraternities will run a varied selection of booths ranging from carnival games to kissing booths to some actual adult only stuff in the beer gardens. They've been pushing the 18+ events despite doing it for a neighbourhood with kids in it. All the proceeds go towards a local non-profit organization that spreads wealth in impovershed areas, putting books into public libraries, getting addicts safe places to live and treatment. I'm pretty sure they were building an apartment complex on the South End as just free housing for the homeless and reformed addicts.

"Yeah, but I'm going. So is Markus and Josh. You need to stop being such a shut in. You need to come up for air. I've been getting worried about you." She speaks with almost a stern tone that sounds motherly. It doesn't bother me to hear it but it occurs to me that's why we're sitting in a coffee shop. I realize it has been a couple of weeks since we spoke. I really let it all fall by the wayside. And unlike my relationship with Jam, as I call her, Markus and Josh actually require communication to maintain the friendship. She continues on but I lose focus on the conversation as I see her talk about self-care and the love and support she's offering me. In a weird way, Jam and I have been inseperable. I've known her for much less time than Jesse or Josh but, she's been there through it all. and I've been there for her. God, I think I love her. Not in a romantic way, but in a way that is kind of like soulmates. She sees me. She hears me. She's so wonderful. I snap back to reality when she slams the table. "Did you hear anything I just said?!"

"Uhh-" I look at the table in front of me, there was a ticket with my name on it. Trevor Lichen. Like the moss. There's a joke about being a wallflower because of my namesake but I don't really know how to make it. "Yes. I'm going to the 18+ event of this party because I need to get out of the house and you love me and worry about me because you're a great person. " She laughs, sips her coffee and goes on about how it's mutual and I'd do the same for her. Honestly I would.

"So get a haircut, trim your facial hair. It's this weekend." I'm a bit taken back by that. Had I been locked away in my room for two weeks. I mean, I go to classes but I spend a lot of time online, working on my tabletop campaign. I can tell she's processing my confusion. "So how is your adventuring party?" I sigh as our conversation turns to me complaining about one of the players for my online tabletop game. I'm actually going to school to improve my writing abilities so I can write better games. Anxiety is a bitch but being game master takes away a lot of that. I like control. Either willingly giving it away or holding it. I've never ran a game in real life. I don't even know my players beyond their screen names, or their character names. Honestly, I normally just call them by character name. It's been a dream of mine to write campaigns for those Podcasts where people just play and get to be themselves as a whole other character.

After about an hour of conversation and another two iced coffees, Jamie departs. I begin my journey home but only get about a block before I see a barbershop. Ace's High. I feel my stomach churn at the thought of further social interaction to day before swallowing my anxiety and walking in. They can fit me in for an immediate cut so there's no awkward waiting or anything like that. I walk over to the chair, seeing my slender-athletic frame in the mirror. I guess running track did me good in High School and staying with running has kept me there. My normally very short beard is a mess of hair and my chestnut hair has hit the length where it's a curly mop out of control. The Barber laughs and asks how much I'm cutting off before I quickly give my request. Which is a very short cropped hairstyle and a trimmed beard. I'm in the chair for about 30 minutes before I open my eyes. The short hair jelled up into spikes. I've always liked my hair short. My beard accents my sharper featues now that it isn't all poofy and all over the place. I look good. I've always thought so when I'm all cleaned up. I just don't really go out to meet people. I quickly pay and leave before I'm trapped in more small talk.

I look at my computer as soon as I get home. My adventuring party was messaging about our session this weekend. Quickly, I type up a message about having a self-care weekend and taking time for me. Immediately, I get replies supporting me. They're good people. Even if I don't really know them. I sigh and head to my closet to plan out my costume for this weekend. Fortunately for me, I've went to my fair share of cons. Looking through the closet, I sigh. The only really interesting thing I have are these fake horns that actually look good with adhesives. I wonder if I have any. Tearing through my closet, I find a small unopened pack of it. Alright, so I'm doing a devil. I start smirking when I see my leather jacket and pants. And I already know that I'm doing a Greaser. I quickly put my costume together when I remember the cosmetic contacts I have. I run and grab them from under my bathroom sink, and I smile as I group it together. I think, for the first time in a while, I'm excited about going to a party.

-The Weekend-

I lied. I hate being in public. I'm standing in line in this stupid Devil Greaser get up. I look at my Instagram and see the selfie I posted. I've got the contacts that have turned my eyes red with the whites of my eyes having been turned black. The horns look like they're coming out of my forehead and are rigid and firm as they raise about four inches of my height. I've got a stupid smirk on my face that I think a devil would make. And then there's this leather jacket and white shirt which I don't think I actually fill out. I swapped out the leather pants for just blue skinny jeans which still feels out of place. The caption read "Beware the Devil you know." It didn't get much engagement. My mom liked it.

"Next." I hold out my ticket and he takes it, tears it and stamps my hand. I look at all the stuff going on, seeing kids running around excitedly in costume. I can't help but smile as I walk in. Jamie said she'd meet me outside the Beer Gardens but my wonder at how this was all set up has me walking in a direction I'm not really sure of. It isn't long before I bump into some guy with a camera. I stumble and he manages to somehow catch me. I get a good look at his outfit and he's wearing a white mask without any facial features except eye holes and gold detailing. With his hood up, I can't even see his eyes underneath the mask. He's wearing a crimson cloak, and what appears to be some sort of super hero outfit underneath.

"Hello? Are you okay?" His voice catches me off guard. The muscular build and everything else had me expecting a more aggressive tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for ruining your shot." He laughs and I'm again surprised by the gentleness of this guy. I realize, I'm a little taller than him. That's not saying much given I'm 5'11. If I had to guess he's 5'9. Give or take a few a inches.

"With a look like that, you're just adding to the composition." His soft voice echoes in my mind. A compliment. I can feel the blood rush to my face. Desperately searching for something, I rack my brain with a compliment that would actually make sense.

"Y-Your mask looks really cool. Did you make it?" My voice echoes through my mind. God what an awful thing to say. That's like a professionally made mask, if anything-

"Yeah! It took me hours to carve it, thanks! Maybe I'll catch you later? I'm doing some photography for the party and I should get back to work." He looks over at a group of kids playing and levels his camera which looked pretty expensive, and snapped a picture of them. He quickly gets engrossed in his work. I wave at him but I don't think he notices. It isn't until I'm at the entrance of the beer gardens that I realize I never caught the photographer's name. Jamie is waiting for me. Her hair is in a pony tail and she's got that typical witch look that people do for halloween. Standing next to her is Josh, and Markus. Both of them were dressed up in matching outfits, looking like male versions of the twins from The Shining.

"Trevor!" She bolts up to me, holding a drink out to me. "Love the costume, the horns are killer. Definitely gonna get it tonight." I take the drink and immediately swig hard, getting a cheer from Markus.

"Trevor, you're gonna have Aaron-"

Thwack!

Josh slaps Markus' chest. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"You know that Aaron and him are on the outs, man! We told you." Josh explained. They begin to bicker as I look around the Beer Garden and I see Aaron wearing a red hoodie, dressed up like a boxer. I could pick him out of a crowd. His muscular build showing under that skin tight hoodie, hiding his snow-white skin. His fiery hair was wet, likely with a a gel so it would look like he was sweating. He was talking with a younger guy, I've seen him on Grindr but never bothered messaging him. Given who he is dating, I'm not his type.

"I need another drink," I say as I head to the bar. The night carries on, and I find myself drinking pretty heavily. The Leather Jacket has me feeling pretty warm. Soon, I'm tipsy and music starts playing. I'm dragged out onto the dancefloor by Jamie and the night carries on. The alcohol pumps through my bloodstream. Jamie comes by with a solo cup and pulls me out of the pit for a smoke break. She smokes, I just stand there. We don't say anything, really. It feels like we're having a whole conversation without saying a word. I finish my drink, putting it in the garbage.

"Hey. Thanks for coming. It's nice to see you let loose." Her tender words pierce my facade of being "forced to be here".

"I needed to come up for air, you said it yourself. Besides I'm having fun." She laughs at me saying that. And then she heads back in and I follow her. We're both on the dancefloor as the next song starts playing. As the crowd pulls us apart, I fully begin to feel the rhythm as the drink hits me harder than I thought it could. All the people sweating around me. Bumping against me. I feel hands on my waist, and grinding behind me and in front of me. All of the physical contact feels incredible. I feel amazing. This is not what being drunk is like.

I immediately tense up. My skin begins to crawl as I begin to panic.

Something

is wrong. I can tell. Was I dosed? With what? Everyone feels so close to me. I need to get away from the dance floor. Call 911. All the movement around me becomes a blur. Nothing is making any sort of sense. I can't hear anything over the pulsing reverb of the music and my own heartbeat which is so loud it feels like it's in my brain.

A red sleeve reaches out and grabs my hand pulling me out of the dancefloor. I feel like I'm being pulled through jello until suddenly everything is quieter. It's still loud but I'm not surrounded by people. In front of me is someone wearing Red. Everything still seems blurry as if some sort of visual filter was put on my eyes. Am I going blind? I hear warbled words. Trying to focus on the person in front of me, I remind myself that I'm having an Anxiety Attack. That I'm freaking out. And that's normal but I need to cool it so i can focus on the conversation. Wallet. My wallet. I reach back and fumble to my wallet and manage to get it out before holding it out to him. I see the red on the top of his head. It's Aaron. He's here. It has to be him.

I feel my wallet get put back into my jacket. And then the warm, smooth touch returns to my hand, as I'm once again pulled away. I walk for what feels like hours and, somehow, simultaneously, minutes. Without everything reverberating in my ears, I've calmed down enough to be able to hear. I was still definitely tripping on whatever drug I had been doesd with. "Watch the stairs," Aaron says. Cautiously, I walk up the few steps, and we're inside. He must have taken me back to the frat house.

click-click.

"Power's out. Drunk driver probably hit a power line." Oh god, did I drive to the party? I locked it, right? I frantically pat myself down looking for my keys. I hear them jingle when I hit my jacket pocket. He pulls my jacket off and hangs it up. In the darkness, I follow Aaron to the bathroom. He helps me sit down and leaves the room. I'm alone. In the Darkness.

"'Come up for air,' she said," I scoff to myself. At least I think I say that. I see the silhouette of Aaron in the door way. "Hey, you."

"Hey, so you're probably still high, and honestly, I'm a little worried about you. So we have two options. We can sober you up by making you throw-"

"Nope." I respond before I even hear that option out.

"Okay. Then drink this." I see a mug come into view. I'm skeptical. But also, I'm so incredibly parched. I chug down whatever is in the mug. It's just water. "You're probably gonna have a bitch of a hangover when you wake up tomorrow. Come on, let's get you settled on the couch." His hands touch mine and I'm pulled up into his arms. He's so warm. Like he's a fire and I've been trapped in the tundra without heat. He holds me for a moment, and I realize that I want Aaron, tonight. I don't care if he has a boyfriend. I mean, he's cheated on his partners with me before, hasn't he? So reason stands, he'd be down. I'm walked over to the couch, where he sits me down. I don't think he expects me to reach out and undo his pants.

"Trevor, no." There's this hesitation in his voice.

"Come on, please." Desperation.

"No." Frustration?

"Why not?" I can't possibly imagine the reason as to why he's saying no. I've been very drunk and he hasn't stopped me. Why take the stand now?

"J-Just- I said 'no',". There's regret here. Wow, Aaron must really like this guy. I should learn his name. If Aaron cares that deeply about him, then that's fine. The redhead walks away from me, likely getting a blanket. God I'm so horny. I undo my own belt, and strip down to my underwear. My jeans are so confining. So now I'm on the couch with a t-shirt and my boxers. And a blatant erection. I reach down, giving myself a customary tug and it feels amazing. Better than this underwear normally does on my dick. Fully giving in, I begin to give myself some attention. I'm fully stroking myself when I hear the footsteps return. I look up at Aaron, and I can feel his eyes watching me. He sits on the coffee table, and I stop. Not for long. Just enough for me to see his silhouette lean forward. With that, I reach in and pull out my seven inches. It's average in terms of girth, but the uncut foreskin makes it all the more aesthetically pleasing. I know he thinks it's the ideal dick to bottom for. I shift, pulling my underwear further down, freeing my balls. I slowly start tugging once more. Gently. Slowly.

Closing my eyes, I let myself go to work, with him just watching me. That is, until i feel his soft fingers reach out and touch my flat stomach. It's electric and I let out a soft moan. His fingers glide across my stomach, through the hair at my navel, before gently skating up to my right nipple, where they begin to gently toy with it. It isn't long before I feel another hand on my thigh, doing the same thing, drawing these slow, sensual circles. The hand on my thigh begins to slowly creep inwards and the hand on my chest slides downwards. I've never felt this good from just body contact before. It's... meticulous. It's like he's drinking in every detail he can. I move my hand away from my shaft, to let him touch it. I take it back. This is such a slow process. His fingers trace up and down, pulling my foreskin ever so softly on the down stroke, following the veins through my dick once more. I'm fully at his mercy. His other hand, continues to massage my balls so carefully, like he's handling the last hope for humanity. It has to be the drug. This is the best thing I've ever experienced. I let out a moan as the tip of his pointer finger slips past my leaking tip, scooping up a surprising amount of precum. I'm left without the heat of his hand as I hear him suck the tip of his finger. And then he moans.

"P-Please. I've never felt this good." I whimper, thrusting upwards, desperate for the heat of his touch once more. To feel his electricity course through my shaft. His left hand returns, grabbing me, again with that caution. And slowly begins to stroke me. His right hand sits on my stomach, before moving up, and resting two digits on my lips. I quickly envelop them, sucking on them as if it were his dick. If he wasn't going to let me suck him off, then I was going to show him what he was missing. In the dark, I feel his eyes watching my face. Even though we can't really see each other, it's enough. In this moment, we both know that this is the spark that could set a blaze every other part of our lives. The fingers withdraw from my mouth and glide down to my nipple. He pinches it. Surprisingly rough in comparison to everything else. And I let out a loud moan. If anyone was home, they'd have been woken up by it. Then it happens. The down stroke that I swear almost kills me.

"F-Fuck-" I don't even get to finish my proclamation, before my entire body shakes and I cum harder than I've ever done in my life. I can feel my hole shivering, my body twitching as cum splatters across my chest and even hitting my face. I'm shaking for a minute, as I come down from easily the best orgasm in my life. The heat on my skin cascades through me, as if a wave that triggers a second shudder and I can feel my cum still flowing. He removes his hand.

"I'll get a cloth." I don't move. I don't know if I can. Is life even worth living in a world where I just had that orgasm? I've never cum that hard. I noticed he moved away. The cum cools and gets cold quickly. I shiver before that warm cloth touches me. His fingers sometimes graze my skin as he wipes away as much of the cum as he can see. I pull my underwear up, and a blanket comes down around me. Drifting to sleep, I feel myself push hard to get one last word in.

"I love you, Aaron." And I pass out.

Sun crests across my face and I'm stirred from my slumber. I see that I'm on the couch of the frat house. I'm familiar with it. Aaron brought me back here. That's right. I get up, quickly putting on my pants. I gotta get out of here before someone can witness my walk of shame. I move to the door, grabbing my jacket and putting the horns in my pocket. I pull my phone out of my pocket and see that it's 6:26 am and my phone dies before I can see any notifications. This is going to topple the record for my worst hangover. I open on the door, as I pull on my shoes and I book it. I walk as fast as I can away from the house. I'm not 100% sure what happened last night. I had a moment with Aaron. And I remember that earth shattering orgasm. Stiffening at the thought of that, I keep moving. I can jack off when I'm home.