I felt it this morning when I woke up in bed, Luke still asleep and his cute little face resting on his pillow next to mine. I felt it yesterday afternoon after Deano had left and Luke was curled into me on my bed. And I felt it for the whole of the evening too. When we were watching Harry Potter and were cuddled up to each other. When I came back from the bathroom to find him with my sketchbook in his hands, gazing lovingly at the sketch I drew of me kissing his cheek at the weekend. And all the times he asked me if I was sure I was okay, clearly able to sense that something wasn’t right with me, as Luke always bloody does, and I felt it all the times I convinced him that I was just tired from all the contest prep.
And I’m still feeling it now as I’m sitting in my last Muscle Food, Diet & Supplements lecture of the term. This gut wrenching guilt. Because I kissed someone else. I kissed a guy who wasn’t Luke. And for the short time that I was doing it, I was into it. Oh God. Even though I don’t even like the guy I was kissing. Even though he annoys the shit out of me most of the time, for those few moments it has happening, I was fucking into it.
I keep going over what happened in my head. I keep telling myself that I just got caught up in the heat of the moment. That Deano took me by surprise. That I was powerless. I mean, an actual competitive bodybuilder with wonky abs and huge tits and enormous shoulders and a massive fucking bubble butt (which even Luke said was hot!) who was pumped from the gym and wearing nothing but posing trunks rammed his fucking tongue down my throat and then climbed on top of me after having given me a hard on by flexing and posing in front of me. I mean, that’s the stuff of muscle fantasies right fucking there! How many other lads with a thing for bodybuilders wouldn’t have been turned on in that scenario?
And I did stop it. Eventually I stopped it. I thought of Luke. I came to my senses. I knew I was doing something wrong. I pushed Deano and his freshly pumped up muscle mass and his warm, sticky skin off me. I took my hand off his thick, muscular back. His tongue eventually left my mouth!
But there's a part of me that can’t help thinking that I probably should have stopped it sooner than I did. Wondering why the hell I let it go on for so long. Why I was gripping on to his sticky, muscular back while his pumped up pocket rocket muscle mass weighed me down. And why I didn't have the willpower to just back away straight away and tell Deano no like I did the second time he kissed me. Luke would have probably understood that. "Hey, Luke. Deano tried to kiss me. And yes - his lips met mine, but I promise, I fucking swear to you, that I stopped him straight away.” Who knows, he might have even been amused by the whole thing.
But I didn’t. I let it happen. For way longer than it should have. And that’s what I’m convinced that Luke won’t understand. That’s where I think he’ll question things. Become paranoid and insecure. And ask me why I didn’t stop it straight away. And God - I wouldn’t blame him if he did. If the roles were reversed, if it was Luke who Deano had kissed and I had then found out, I’d be fucking furious. I got jealous in that bar in Glasgow just from seeing another guy whispering into Luke’s ear with his hand on his shoulder, for fuck’s sake!
And okay, maybe there is some kind of sexual chemistry between me and Deano. However fucking weird and slightly wrong that feels. But surely Luke would see, surely he’d know, that whatever the fuck happened yesterday with Deano in that lust filled moment of complete and utter madness, and whatever I felt at the time, it fucking pails in comparison to what I feel for him. What I have been feeling for Luke for weeks. When I’m with him. When I kiss him. God - even when I'm just in the same fucking room as him and he's smiling at me with those fucking dimples on his cheeks and looking at me with those gorgeous bloody eyes I love so fucking much. How can that compare with a one minute kiss and fumble with a sweaty, pumped up bodybuilder I can’t fucking stand for the majority of the time?
But what if Luke didn’t see things in that way? What if he saw the fact that I let someone kiss me for a few minutes as a betrayal? Which is why I really feel like it’s best that Luke doesn’t know what happened. At least for the time being. If that means keeping a secret from Luke, then so be it. I mean, I know I’ve never done this whole boyfriend thing before, but surely I don't have to tell Luke every single bloody thing that happens?
“Woody! Can I have a quick word?” Johnny asks when the lesson comes to an end. I stay behind as everyone else files out of the classroom.
“So … four days out from the show. How’s the prep going?”
I nod my head. “Yeah. Good, sir.”
“And … dare I ask? You and Deano?”
My stomach tightens with nerves. Things between me and Deano are fine, sir. Other than the fact that he stuck his tongue down my throat and climbed on fucking top of me yesterday. Oh and has apparently been secretly harbouring feelings for me.
“It’s … fine!”
Johnny looks at me suspiciously. God - there’s no bullshitting Johnny is there? I suddenly realise how much of an absurd answer I gave him. As if spending time with Deano would ever be fucking “fine”.
“Well … I mean, it is Deano! But … I guess he hasn’t annoyed me ALL of the time!”
Johnny smiles and nods, looking a little bit pleased with himself. Ugh. If only he knew his little plan for me and Deano to work together has potentially caused a major fucking problem for me and Luke. But then, I guess if it weren’t for Johnny, there might not even be a “me and Luke” in the first place.
“Well, I actually have some good news for you!” he says, mysteriously. “I’ve pulled a few strings and … I’ve managed to secure you your own room for next year!”
Oh fuck. My heart drops. I totally wasn’t expecting him to say that!
“Oh right!” I have no fucking idea what else to say.
“It’s in Prince Hall, so your neighbours will mostly be third years!”
Fuck. No! I’m nodding at him, but I don’t want this. I want to share with Luke. I want to BE with Luke.
“You’ve done a great job with helping Luke out. He’s been doing really well these last few weeks!”
I nod, biting my lip and trying to figure out what the hell to say.
“Is everything okay, Woody? I was expecting you to be just a little bit happier!” he jokes.
“Yeah! I mean …” I pause (shit!), “thanks, sir. For the room …” I pause again, figuring out how to tell him that I don’t actually want what he’s offering me without sounding like an ungrateful fucking prick. “Is it, like … a done deal?” I ask, my stomach clenching.
Johnny looks at me suspiciously again. “The room’s yours, Woody!”
Fuuuuck. I nod. Oh God. Here goes. “The thing is, sir, since Luke …” (Oh God!), “what I mean is ... I actually don’t mind sharing. Any more!”
Johnny just looks at me like he’s studying my face. And now his mouth is curling into a cheeky smirk. “Do you want some time to think about it, Woody?”
I breathe a sigh of relief and nod. “Sorry!” I say, awkwardly.
He gives me a kind smile and shakes his head. “No need to be. I have to say, I am a little surprised. But … I know how well you and Luke get on!”
Oh my GOD! My chest flutters.
“And the room will just go to someone else, if you decide you don’t want it!”
I nod at him, feeling a huge wave of relief. And then I suddenly have an awful fucking thought. “Wait - I will get to share with Luke again, won’t I?”
Johnny smiles at me and nods. “First years get to choose who they share with in their second year. It actually makes it a lot easier if you stick with the same roommate!”
I nod, feeling a little sheepish but happy. I turn to head out then stop and turn back. “Will we get a bigger room?”
Johnny narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t fucking push it, Woody!”
As I walk out of Johnny’s classroom for the last time this term, this huge wave of euphoria goes through me. Because I get to share with Luke again next year. Fuck! I get to wake up next to him every morning, wrap my arm around him and bury my face into the back of his neck, taking in that Luke scent I love so much. I get to see him walking around with his insanely cute arse nestled into whatever geeky boxer shorts he’s wearing that day. And I get to cuddle into his chest and squeeze him as we lie on his bed watching Harry Potter or Johnny Bravo or even that weird Dom and Cole shit. Something I’d fucking love to do right now. But I can’t. Because I have to go and do cardio with Deano.
Shit. And now I’m suddenly nervous. Because I really don’t know how Deano is going to be with me today. Will things be awkward between us? Will he act weird around me? Or will he just be the same old Deano, both of us pretending that nothing happened between us yesterday?
I still can’t believe that Deano Watkins actually likes me! What the actual fucking fuck? I mean, he didn’t so much as say the words, but he didn’t really need to.
And now I’m wondering how long Deano has been harbouring these feelings for. Maybe it’s a recent thing or maybe it’s been brewing right from the start of the school year. And have those feelings intensified since we started working together on our assignment for the show?
And what kind of thoughts has Deano had about me? Presumably kissing me. But what else? Has he lay in bed imagining I’m lying next to him, his arm around my waist and his head on my chest, cuddled up to me the way me and Luke do with each other every day?
And now I’m getting closer to the gym, I’m suddenly wondering whether things will be awkward between us. Will he act weird around me? Or will he just be the same old Deano, both of pretending that nothing happened between us yesterday?
I’m about to find out, because now in sight and standing by the entrance of the Watson House gym, looking like a pocket sized tank in his black Montgomery University hoodie and his gym backpack slung over the huge, boulder shoulder I had on my hand yesterday, is the boy who (against all odds) fucking kissed me yesterday on my bed. And, although he’s probably trying his best to not look it, I can tell that he’s nervous.
“Alright!” I say, suddenly feeling nervous too.
“Hey!” he says, clutching the handle of his backpack and not smiling. And now we’re going into the gym. And God it’s awkward. And it stays that way all the while we’re in the changing rooms. It’s like there’s this unspoken thing hanging in the air. An elephant in the room. An elephant who spends weeks insinuating that you’re gay then one day rams his tongue down your throat and straddles you on your bed wearing nothing but velvet posing trunks.
The one good thing about cardio is that it doesn’t allow for much in the way of talking. Which me and Deano don’t do a lot of at all. In fact, I think it’s the quietest I’ve ever known him to be. And although it’s still awkward, it’s also pretty fucking refreshing to get through a gym session without Deano being his annoying, obnoxious self and constantly telling me how his way of doing things is better than mine. Maybe he should kiss me and confess to secretly having feelings for me so I can knock him back and bruise his ego more often. Is that kind of a shitty thing for me to wish for?
“So … what was the last show you did?” I ask Deano as we walk back to the gym changing rooms.
Things feel decisively less awkward than they were earlier having spent the last hour or so together, but there’s still a sense that things aren’t exactly normal between us. Or as normal as they ever were, at least.
“NABBA South East last summer. Junior class,” he tells me.
I nod. “Did you win?"
He shoots me a look like I’ve just asked a stupid question. “Course!”
I roll my eyes but I can’t help but smirk. And now Deano’s smirking a little too. And things suddenly seem just that little less weird.
“So, we still need to go through my posing routine,” Deano says, his head buried in his locker, not looking at me. I can’t help but detect a hint of nerves in his voice. Shit. He’s right. Other than the last few days of training, that’s pretty much the last part of the assignment we need to complete.
“Oh yeah!” I say, pulling my blue Montgomery hoodie over my head. Deano closes his locker, and now he’s looking at me, all of a sudden seeming really awkward. He’s doing this thing with his mouth. Like he’s rolling his tongue around the inside of his cheek. Maybe it’s a nervous thing? And suddenly I’m nervous too. Because I think I have a pretty good idea where this conversation is heading.
“So, erm, when are you thinking?”
Deano shrugs and pulls a face, still doing that thing with the side of his mouth. Fuck. He wants to do that now? I guess we have to do it sometime in the next three days. I suppose now is as good as time as ever.
“Right. So, shall we, erm … go to the library or something?”
He pulls a face. “Your room’s fine!”
Wait - what? He has GOT to be fucking kidding right now. I thought the last thing Deano would want to do is be alone with me in my room again after yesterday. Unless … oh God. No. Surely he wouldn’t try anything again? Would he?
As we walk back to my room I wonder what the chances are of Luke being in. Although, in one way, I think that might make things even more awkward. Me and Deano sat on my bed, the thought of what we did yesterday going round and round in my head as Luke is sat across the room on his bed, blissfully unaware that his boyfriend kissed someone else.
As it turns out, Luke’s not in. And now we're in my room, things definitely feel awkward again like they did outside the gym earlier. Neither of us are really talking. And Deano keeps doing that thing with the inside of his mouth. As we both sit on my bed, I feel a knot in my stomach. Jesus. I can’t believe I’m here again. Sitting on my bed with fucking Deano! It's like I've gone right back to the scene of the fucking crime.
I sit and play with my phone, trying to ignore the tension and awkward atmosphere as Deano scribbles down his routine next to me. When he’s finished he hands me his notebook. There’s a really weird moment when I take the book from him and we lock eyes. And I suddenly remember what happened yesterday before he kissed me. When he wouldn’t let go of his phone.
I scan my eyes down the page, reading a description of the posing routine Deano will be performing at the end of term bodybuilding show on Saturday. “There’s quite a lot of rear poses!”
He shrugs. “I’ve got a good back!”
I nod and turn back to the page, now smiling as I think about making a joke that Deano has a certain other good attribute that can be seen from the back. Hmmm. Maybe mentioning his massive trunk devouring bubble butt wouldn’t be the best thing to do right now given the circumstances.
“Instead of these back poses here …” I reach the notebook out to him and he leans in and oh GOD, “erm .... why don’t you do, like, another front lat spread? And maybe an abs and thighs?”
Deano just gives a little nod, looking at the notebook and not making eye contact with me. Still doing that thing where he’s rolling his tongue around the inside of his mouth.
“So what’s his name?” he says, still not looking at me. Oh shit. His voice sounds so weird.
“The boyfriend.” And now he looks up at me and he’s got this look on his face. And my stomach suddenly clenches.
“Erm … Max!” I lie.
Deano nods. But something flickers in his expression. Like (oh fuck!) he doesn’t quite believe me. “How does it work though? I mean, with you being here?”
I can not believe he’s bringing this up. I thought he’d be too embarrassed to mention anything that happened yesterday. Or anything we spoke about.
I shrug. “We see each other during the holidays!” I say, perhaps a little too defensively. I look back to Deano’s notebook. “Wait - what song are you posing to?”
Deano doesn’t respond. He’s just sitting next to me doing that thing with the inside of his mouth. And then his eyes fall away from me and to the floor. “What if we didn’t tell anyone?”
What the FUCK? Did he seriously just ask me that?
“What do you mean?” (I know exactly what he means.) And Deano looks up again at me and my insides tighten. Because I see it again in his face. How much he likes me.
“You were into it,” he says softly.
Fuck. I shake my head gently. “Deano!”
And now (oh GOD) he’s leaning towards me and his lips are on mine again. But it feels different to how it did yesterday. I back away and shake my head. “Deano. I can’t!” I say, looking into his eyes.
No. Not can’t. I don’t want to. Because of Luke. Because I’m completely and utterly crazy about Luke. And with that thought, I suddenly feel a hell of a lot less guilty about my actions yesterday. Because this time I backed away sooner. This time I did the right thing.
But Deano looks wounded. “I’m sorry!” I say to him. He immediately screws his face up, in typical Deano manner. But then his expression softens. Like he can’t be bothered to keep up the act. And now, sitting next to me, still looking like a pocket sized tank in his black Montgomery University hoodie, he just looks kinda sad.
“So, there’s this bar I’ve been to in Glasgow a few times!”
Deano looks confused and shakes his head. “What bar?”
“Well ... its, like, a gay bar!”
He screws up his face. “Why would I wanna go to a gay bar?” he spits. And it’s suddenly like regular Deano is back in the room. And now I have no fucking idea what to say.
“Back in a sec!” I say, escaping to my bathroom. God - I hope this is the end of it. I hope now Deano’s got the picture. I’ve knocked him back twice. I’ve made it clear that I’m not interested. I’ve told him I have a boyfriend. What else is there left to say?
When I go back to the room, Deano is stood up and packing his things into his backpack.
“Oh. Are you going?”
“Yep!” he says flatly, without looking at me. He seems pissed off. What the hell?
“Okay!” I say, confused. “Don’t you wanna get this finished?”
“Just … make the rest of it up!” he says, impatiently, still not looking at me.
“Deano - are you okay?”
He throws his backpack over his shoulder and looks at me, this cold look of disdain on his face. “Don’t be so fucking gay!” he spits.
Oh WOW. So we’re back to this? Jesus! And then he turns (still not looking at me) and marches towards the door.
“Okay. See ya tomorrow!” I say, pointedly. But Deano doesn’t say anything. And he doesn’t look back at me as he practically storms out of the room.
And then my heart jumps into my fucking throat. Because a few seconds after Deano leaves, Luke walks in.
“What’s up with him?” he asks, looking back at the door with an expression of confusion.
I breathe a deep sigh and shake my head. “I have NO fucking idea!”
And right now, I don’t fucking care. Because Luke’s here. My gorgeous little Hufflepuff Luke in his white Marvel t-shirt and black framed glasses. I walk up to him, wrap my arms under his and around his back, push my body up against him and kiss him with more conviction than any of the kisses we had this morning and last night.
When we part lips, Luke’s grinning at me with a suspicious look on his face as he grips on to me. My big chest and stomach squashed against his.
“Hey! I’m sorry if ...” my chest tightens, “I was a bit quiet yesterday.”
Luke smiles and shrugs. “That’s okay. I was just a bit worried about you!” he says, his eyes veering to my chest.
God - he is just so fucking sweet I can’t even. I give him a squeeze, my fingers digging into his back. “I was just … in a weird mood!”
Luke bits his bottom lip and nods.
“But … I’m over it!” I shake my head. “Completely over it!”
And I am. Whatever happened yesterday with Deano. That crazy lust filled moment where I completely lost my head. I’m completely fucking over it. It never has to be mentioned or talked about again. Deano’s already gone back to his usual twat self judging from his behaviour earlier. I’m feeling considerably less guilty about our kiss after I knocked him back again. Me and Luke are back to where we should be. Everything has gone back to normal. Everything is how it should be.
“So … Johnny asked to speak to me earlier after class!”
Luke nods, suddenly looking a little nervous.
“He’s … managed to get me my own room for next year,” I tell him.
Luke’s face falls. “Oh right!”
I smirk at him. “Obviously I’m gonna tell him I don’t want it!”
And Luke his mouth is curling into a cute, little smirk. But then his expression turns serious. “Wait - are you sure?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Luke Dean …” (I pull a face) “... Henderson, YES I’m fucking sure!”