At 10:56 am, Warren entered his Statistics 101 class while texting.
"Hi," Chase Worten said brightly when Warren sat beside him and his girlfriend. "You missed an insane fight this morning! A black guy kicked a white guy's ass for flirting with his girlfriend."
Warren gasped and said, "No way."
"It took 3 security guys to subdue the black guy!" Chase went on. "The white guy was fucked up! Both his eyes were blue and swollen shut! All over a girl."
Beth Baum looked at Chase and asked, "So if a guy flirted with me you wouldn't kick his ass?"
"If you told him no, I would," Chase answered easily. "If you flirted back I'd break up with you."
"Hello, bright young students!" Prof. Sadik Luhar called. "Who has studied chapters 6, 7, and 8? Most of you. Good. The rest, how fucked you are today. Do you want to know why? Today, we have a test!"
While Christian was sitting in his economics class waiting for the professor to begin, Misha sat down next to him. Misha offered Christian an awkward smile as she handed him a small pile of clothes. It was all his, just clothes that he left or she liked to wear.
"Thanks," Christian said just as awkwardly while accepting the garments.
"We can be friends right?" Misha asked quietly, softly.
"I- yeah. Sure. I'd like that."
"I mean I forgive you."
"Thanks," Christian said with a quiet but self-deprecating laugh. "I haven't forgiven myself."
Misha grasped Christian's shoulder and squeezed in a comforting gesture,
"And number 20," Prof. Luhar called, reading the answer key to the test. "The correct answer is as follows: standard deviation equals to the square root of the proportions multiplied by the probability failure over sample quantity.
"Please grade the exam and hand it back to its owner."
After Warren handed James Gardner his exam back, he looked down at his own. He got a 95%, which meant that he got 1 answer wrong. He was more than okay with that.
Prof. Luhar then called, "Moving on to chapter 9, linear regression. Linear regression is the most basic type of regression and commonly used predictive analysis. The overall idea of regression is to examine 2 things:
"1, does a set of predictor variables do a good job in predicting an outcome variable? Is the model using the predictors accounting for the variability in the changes in the dependent variable?
"2, which variables in particular are significant predictors of the dependent variable? And in what way do they- indicated by the magnitude and sign of the beta estimates- impact the dependent variable?"
When Christian walked into the office, Dr. Kieron Park said from the counter, "Have a seat, Christian."
As he took a seat on the brown leather chair, Christian said, "It's just Chris."
"Sure. Would you like a tea or a coffee? I've also got bottled water."
"Just a water, please."
Dr. Park walked to his own chair with his mug of tea and a water. "How are you, Chris?"
"I'm fine," Christian answered unconvincingly. "I guess. I dunno."
"You don't have to lie," Dr. Park said kindly. "This morning I had a big fight with my wife. I am not looking forward to going home to that. Sorry if that's a T.M.I. thing or whatever you kids say."
Christian laughed, relieved, before he replied, "I'm fine. Really. Better than I thought I would be."
"This weekend I was so scared to be gay. I was so scared that I would be sitting in the flames of hell when I perish."
Christian finally opened his bottle of water. He stared at the neck of the bottle for a moment, biding his time. Dr. Park just watched him, patient, as the young man sipped.
Christian finally answered, "I've been- I've been fighting my sexuality for over 2 years."
"Fighting it how?"
"I've had 4 girlfriends. 3 in high school, and 1 here. With them all, I forced myself to become aroused by imagining guys that I found physically pleasing."
"You said 'had girlfriends'. Have you broken up with your most recent?"
"Yes. Last week."
"Why did you? Is it because you are accepting or starting to accept your sexuality?"
"... I dunno," Christian replied with a big shrug. "I mean, I broke up with Misha because it's not fair to her for me to use her to force heterosexuality on myself."
"Well it's great that you realized it was unfair on Misha. But tell me how you're feeling today. You said that you didn't want to be gay this weekend. Has that changed?"
Christian thought about it hard for a moment, and replied, "A little, I think."
"How has it changed?"
"I still think that God will smite my ass and pass my ever-loving soul down to The Pit. It scares me."
"I can understand that. How much religion were you brought up in as a child?"
"A lot. We prayed 3 times a day. At breakfast, at dinner, and at bed. We went to church every Sunday. As part of my parents' homework, my siblings and I each read a passage of the Bible every afternoon."
"Okay, so you're familiar with the Bible cover to cover. Is there any part or parts that you know without a shred of doubt in your mind that would be considered outdated?"
"Well, waiting until marriage to have sex is completely unrealistic."
"I agree," Dr. Park said with a slow nod, expectant.
"Stoning as a punishment is insane and barbaric."
"Right. I'm sure you can name a few more outdated thoughts and beliefs and actions. Do you know any homosexual people?"
"Warren is a dorm mate of mine and 1 of my best friends. He is so comfortable and confident in his sexuality that he wears high heels."
"Okay. Do you think that Warren is going to hell in the afterlife?"
"No. Warren is so nice that God will probably make him an angel, even though that basically goes against His policies."
"But you have this double standard that is not in your favour. Why is that?"
Christian, deep in confusing thoughts, sighed. He sipped his water as he leaned back against the chair.
"Seems like you have to think deep and hard about that," Dr. Park observed softly. "How do you think your parents would react if you told them about your sexuality?"
"They would still love me," Christian answered as tears began to form. "I've told them before, when I first began to realize. I told my mom that I wanted to go to this conversion camp just outside of Columbus. She- she told me that she would always care for me, that I would always be her son, and tried to talk me out of going to the camp."
"The fact that you went to a gay conversion camp is very upsetting to me. But your mother's reaction is what surprises me. It sounds to me like your parents are open-minded about sexuality. Would you say that's a fair statement?"
"No. I disagree. Back in 2011 or 12, my parents received s wedding invitation in the mail for a frat brother of my dad's. He was marrying another guy. My dad tore it up."
"Last question, as our hour is almost up."
Christian was surprised upon hearing that. Time had passed much more quickly than he thought.
Dr. Park carried on, "You don't have to answer now. Take your time in thinking it through. Also think about why your friend is going to heaven despite being gay while you're sure that you'll be going to hell for that very same reason. What would you do if your family disagrees with your sexuality? I know that it's a scary, tough question to ponder. But you seem like a very head-strong, big-hearted man."
Warren unbuttoned his jeans and had to really push them down due to how tight they were. While pushing the fucking tight denim down to his knees, there was a knock at Warren's door.
"Come in!" Warren cried.
"Hey," Gio said as he entered the dorm room. "Picked up my mail today and this was in my bundle."
Still struggling to remove his jeans, Warren said, "Hey, thanks. You can just put it on the table."
After setting the envelope on the desk, Gio asked, "Off somewhere?"
"Ugh- going to- the gym with- Porter and Chad. Oh, fuck yeah!"
Warren threw the heather grey denim into his laundry basket, standing in just his galaxy print trunks.
"How do you stand to wear heels for 8-plus hours of the day?" Gio asked, staring at the neat rows of shoes inside Warren's closet. "I mean, man, Michelle can barely wear her's for 3."
Warren rifled through his shirts as he answered, "I trained in heels on a treadmill every day when I was 16. I walked, speed-walked, and ran. At inclines, and at declines. How is Michelle? Haven't seen her around much."
"S'because we broke up."
"Ah. Sorry, dude."
"S'alright. Was sick of her shit. Drama every other day with her. The only thing I don't like is using nothing but my right hand to get off."
Warren did not fail to hear the sultry inflection of Gio's voice. He turned around, almost smiling, and saw Gio standing with his arms across his chest. Gio was also almost smiling, and he cocked an eyebrow challengingly.
Walking toward the R.A., Warren said, "Something that I love is having my throat fucked."
"S'that so?" Gio asked rhetorically, his heart beating a little harder.
"Mm-hmm," Warren nodded. "Rough."
"Damn," Gio breathed as Warren pulled him in by the hips. "Whoa. Hey. I don't kiss dudes."
While slowly hiking Gio's white wife beater up, Warren whispered, "Then feel free to leave."
Gio remained unmoving, so Warren grabbed Gio's hands and guided them to his plump, firm ass. Gio instinctively gave the globes of flesh a good squeeze. He gave up and craned his neck downward and kissed Warren. As their lips glided together heatedly, Warren pushed Gio's wife beater all the way up and off. Gio's hands immediately went back to playing with his cotton-clad ass, and Warren ghosted his fingertips over the ridges of Gio's abs.
"Your ass is- perfect," Gio whispered between kisses.
Between kisses, Warren responded, "I can- tell."
He could feel it. Gio's cock was growing, gliding along Warren's lower tummy. So Warren hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of Gio's gym shorts and briefs, and suckled on Gio's collarbone. The Italian moaned as Warren hickeyed him.
When Warren removed his lips from Gio's collarbone, he said, "I'm surprised you let me do that."
While Warren kissed Gio's muscular chest, Gio replied, "I like getting hickeys. Mmmm yeah!"
Warren had swiped the tip of his tongue across the erect dark nipple on Gio's round, hairy pec. He then suckled on it while palming the thick cock that strained inside Gio's nylon shorts.
"Fuck, you know how to make a man feel good!"
Warren grinned to himself. He kissed his way down Gio's hairy, muscular body while at the same time pulled his shorts down. Gio's uncut and thick 7-inch dick sprang out and throbbed. The brown head was already leaking precum, to which Warren guessed that Gio really loved lips worshipping his body.
Gio begged, "Fucking touch my dick, man. Please."
Warren smirked as he continued to kiss Gio's sculpted abs and slowly pulled Gio's shorts down his legs.
1 part frustrated but 4 parts amused, Gio pleaded, "Can we do this quickly? I gotta go grocery shopping, man."
Warren's smirk only grew. He kissed Gio's inner thigh, almost in the groin. The tease.
"Ugh. You like having this power over me, huh?"
Warren moved to the other leg, and he intentionally brushed Gio's mushroom head on his lips.
"You like it rough?" Gio asked before he spit in his hand and smeared it on his aching cock. "I'll give it to you rough."
Gio gripped a wad of Warren's dirty-blonde hair in his other hand and pulled Warren into his crotch. Gio's 7 thick inches slid all the way into Warren's accommodating throat without a problem.
"Fuck, man," Gio groaned, his shoulders hunching forward in the sheer amount of pleasure. "This is my first time being deep-throated. God. Damn."
Warren gently eased off the prick until just the very tip of Gio's head remained in his lips. Warren suckled sweetly on the tip for a moment, and slowly reinserted it into his throat. Warren bobbed his head rapidly, keeping his green eyes trained in the Italian's face. Gio had his brows scrunched together and his mouth agape, but their eyes locked.
Gio then wove his others fingers through Warren's hair. Having the blonde secured and unable to escape, Gio moved his hips back and forth like a jackhammer. He fucked Warren's throat like there was no tomorrow.
Warren did not gag, or tear. He just kept their eyes connected. Warren's throat squelched, and Gio's balls slapped his chin.
Already much too close to cumming, Gio pulled out of Warren's heavenly throat. But Warren was hungry for the taste of salty, musky, hot cum. He wrapped his lips around Gio's cockhead.
Panicked, Gio said, "Awww I'm bout to cum. Ohh I'm cumming. I'm cumming. You wanna eat it all, slut? Here it comes, here it- Argh! Argh!"
Warren only suckled on the head. The first spurt of thick cum shot so hard inside Warren's mouth that he was surprised.
Gio had cum so much that Warren had to swallow twice to keep from spilling any. Gio's cum was thick, and the perfect combination of salty and sweet. He didn't want to stop sucking on Gio's delicious prick, but the Italian was shuddering with orgasm aftershocks and an oversensitive dick. So Warren stood, and made another hickey on Gio's other shoulder.
Breathless and euphoric, Gio asked, "Think you can do that every night?"
"Only if I can finger your ass during," Warren answered with a smile.
Gio gave Warren a small peck on the lips, and replied, "I think I'll pass."
Christian sat in the library with Greg Durham and Samantha Forden, his Human Resources classmates. Christian had been in the library for just over 2 hours working on hypothetical cases in which an H.R. officer would be required to assess the situations, take actions that he felt would be appropriate, justify those actions, and write a real H.R. report. He had enough. He closed his textbook, and saved the word document.
And then he noticed Warren walking toward the table, his red pumps clicking and clacking on the hardwood floors. Warren offered the brunette a smile in greeting. Though the smile was small, almost unnoticeable, it warmed Christian and caused his heart to flutter.
"Hey," Christian greeted cheerily.
"Hey," Warren greeted back, standing beside the table.
"What's up, Quicksilver?" Christian asked.
Warren shrugged and replied, "Just finished a meeting with my communications class group members. Gonna go grocery shopping. This morning for brekky, I ate a bag of chips. Though pre-teen Warren Patrick Altier would be jealous of me, it was disgusting and I feel off."
Christian, along with Greg, laughed.
"Anyway," Warren said, "what are you up to?"
"Just got done H.R. homework," Christian answered, packing his books away. "I need some grub, too. Mind if I join?"
"S'go," Warren said with a gesture of his head.
While walking to Warren's car, Christian shivered in his letterman jacket and said, "Damn, it's getting cold out."
"It's not that bad, Bubba," Warren teased.
"Says the Eskimo," Christian fired back, fighting off a grin.
Warren allowed a loud, short burst of laughter pass his lips before he said, "I'm pretty sure I am actually 1-16th Inuit. That's the actual name for Eskimo."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, some don't like the word Eskimo."
"No, no. Not that. Are you really part Inuit?"
Warren laughed again as he hit the fob to unlock his S.U.V. and answered, "No."
In the Lexus, Warren started the engine and turned the heater on for Christian. He then slid the Popsocket phone grip into the Pop Clip on his dash.
"How are you?" Christian asked tentatively. "Since- since Aaron?"
"I'm good," Warren replied as he selected a playlist from Spotify. "Still sucks that he's leaving, but I'm happy that he found a good-paying job. I'm driving him to the airport on the 5th."
"Mm," Christian nodded while Warren reversed out of the parking spot.
"How are you?" Warren asked, also tentative. "Since this weekend I mean."
"I- umm- yeah," Christian replied, his mind frantic. "Yeah. I saw a therapist. On Tuesday. He wants to see me every week."
"How do you feel about it?"
"It's definitely a journey. Like all adventures, you'll run into snags, and sharp curves, and weather."
"I'm happy that you made it this far," Warren said genuinely while waiting to take a left. "So soon, too. But remember not to rush in your psychological recovery. Not to insinuate that you're unhealthy or anything."
"Yeah," Christian nodded his understanding. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I- umm... I went on a date on Sunday afternoon."
Confused, Warren asked, "You did? Who with?"
"His- his name is Mike Beckett. He- he lives in John Jay, 7th floor."
Smiling, happy for his friend, Warren punched Christian's shoulder and said, "That is seriously so impressive, Chris! I'm so proud of you! Wait. How'd the date go?"
"Started out good," Christian answered softly, and with a shrug. "Great, actually. We talked, shared some laughs, got to know each other. I ignored the basketball-sized lump in my stomach until the end. I dropped him off back at John Jay, he went in for a kiss, but I... I couldn't do it."
They were at a red light, so Warren reached and grabbed Christian's hand. Christian felt an intense, burning urge to shift their hands and card their fingers together. He chose not to because he thought that Warren thought of them as nothing but friends for a number of reasons.
The first reason was Warren's ability to grab his hand and not think twice about it. He was comfortable in showing platonic affection like that.
The Le Guerison Cafe owner assumed they were a couple, and Warren found it amusing. He told the redhead that they were only friends.
Another reason was Warren's obvious lack of attraction. They had seen each other naked basically every morning in the showers. They worked out together and spotted for each other in the gym. Warren was always so focused on the fitness.
Warren released his gentle grip on Christian's hand at the light turning green and gently pressed on the gas pedal.
Stopping at Safeway, Warren asked, "Do you think you'll see Mike again?"
"For a date?" Christian said, exiting the S.U.V. with the blonde. "No. I'm not interested in him like that. I was just testing my comfort. I know that was wrong of me. I panicked when he tried to kiss me and apologized. And I got back into my truck and just drove around for hours."
Warren shrugged (yes, they shrugged that much) and said, "I'm happy that you're seeing a therapist about this."
"Do you think your parents could adopt me if my parents find out about..." Christian said, trying to make it a joke, as Warren handed him a shopping basket.
Warren smiled tight-lipped, sympathetic. He grabbed Christian's hand and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
When Warren began walking toward the produce aisles, he asked, "What are you dressing up as for Halloween?"
"Umm..." Christian mumbled, his eyes flitting around and seeing other shoppers glancing at Warren's red 5.5-inch pumps. "I- I found a pair of firefighter pants and a yellow flight light helmet."
Warren laughed, examining cartons of blueberries, and guessed, "You're going shirtless, aren't you? Wanna know a secret? I tore some holes in the Goku pants and the shirt is basically destroyed, hanging on bare threads."
Christian froze at the bundles of bananas. He couldn't help but to picture Warren in the Saiyan costume, showing off his growing muscles.
Christian cleared his throat as a signal to himself to behave, and asked, "Have you met anyone new?"
"Nope," Warren replied, making the P pop loudly. "I'm not actively looking. The last time I opened Grindr and Hornet was, like, 5 weeks ago or so."
Hey! Just thought I would say it before anyone else emails me. In Part 7, the previous instalment, Warren and Christian sat in a cafe to study. The cafe was called Le Guerison. For those of you that read my other story called 'The Other Half of Me Unknown' might remember that Le Guerison is the company that the main character of that story is the sole proprietor of that business.
So I do know that TOHMU is set in the year 2019 and SYGA is set is 2017. Technically, Le Guerison Cafe should not yet exist, but I couldn't help adding it in.
I humbly apologize to all of you timeline buffs for these stories causing you stress.
Thank you for checking out this series. If you are enjoying it, feel free to check out my other works.
I love hearing back from readers! Email me whether you liked this story or not. Have some criticism? I take criticism well!