By the way I promised I proofread. If there is anything that doesn't make sense or if I misspelled anything blame it on the dyslexia.
Oh and this goes without saying since it's in the fiction section, but this story is fiction.
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PART I
I don’t mean to pussyfoot around here, I know you want to get to the good stuff. I’m just not a very good writer, even though I want to be a writer. I just feel compelled to give you a little backstory about me first.
My name is Adavan Kavita; most people just call me “Van.” My details? I’m 5’8”, somewhat toned but lanky at the same time, and black hair that I usually don’t go out of my way to style, but most people tend to think that’s kind of a look, anyways (Thank you, Anne Hathaway).
My dad died when I was young, and my mom and I never really got along. So I had two options when I was young: Stay at home and be miserable, or take up something to preoccupy my time. I went with the latter and picked up soccer, although I wasn’t interested in sports, and, quite frankly, still am not. But that’s whatever.
I always knew I was gay. I didn’t really come out until my freshman year of high school, and even then, I never really talked about it. I don’t mean to sound like one of those types that goes “I don’t want to flaunt it.” The accurate description for me is that I’m still self-conscious. I’ve had two boyfriends, and it’s not like I don’t accept myself, or that my peers haven’t been accepting of me -- it’s just a personal thing, I guess.
One of the most continuous uncomfortable interactions I experienced were with a guy that was on my soccer team, Ryan Mah. He was two years older than me as well as my next door neighbor. Ever since we were young, and I’d see him playing in his backyard with some of his friends, I knew I had a crush on him. It’s hard for me to articulate why, there was just something about him that was so confidant and masculine. It wasn’t even a crush as much as it was envy. I never knew if I wanted to be with him or if I wanted to be him.
Towards the end of the soccer season my sophomore year I had my worst interaction with him. I stayed behind after practice to help our coach with some equipment that needed moving. By the time I got to the locker room, it was empty. I assumed everyone must have gone home.
Usually after practice, most of the guys would stay behind and shower before heading home. I was never one of them. Being around a bunch of naked guys made me uncomfortable. I felt like at any moment somebody would just turn and look at me and start screaming out of fear that they were sharing a shower with some faggot (which was silly for me to think that way, the guys on my team knew I was gay but never bothered me about it, aside from the expected amount of playful teasing). That’s why I decided to take this opportunity to fight some of my anxiety and shower. Even though it was by myself, I’d at least feel like I was accomplishing something.
I stripped and headed into the shower room. Like most high school shower rooms, it was just a big empty room with several showerheads. No privacy, just unwanted intimacy. Even by myself I felt I was being stared at as I let the warm water drip on me and onto the floor around me.
So you can imagine the panic I felt when I heard the locker room doors open. The butterflies I felt in my stomach turned into a swarm of moths.
My first immediate instinct was to turn off the water. Not sure why I did that, it just made things seem suspicious.
Dead silence.
Finally, I heard a voice. “Hello?” It was Ryan.
I gulped instead of responding. I wished I had brought a towel or something into the shower room with me. My clothes were over at my locker. I’m butt-ass naked, there was no way I could’ve made it from point A to point B without unwillingly exposing myself to Ryan. Fuck. I wished that I could’ve asked him to leave.
“Hello??” Ryan asked again, obviously weirded out by the lack of response.
Still couldn't respond. I decided if I couldn’t speak, I would just have to move. So I made my way toward my locker, trying my best to keep from shaking, and appeared in the entranceway to the shower.
“Van! You were starting to creep me out dude,” Ryan said with a laugh.
I laughed too, but it came out as an awkward noise I immediately regretted making, and continued towards my locker, my hand trying its best to cover my package.
Ryan insisted on small talk anyways. “What are you doing here so late, anyways?”
“I just... was.”
“What?”
Why did I say that? “I mean I was helping coach.”
Ryan just laughed. I started to hurry out of the locker room with whatever was left of my pride.
“No goodbye?” Ryan asked.
“Sorry, seeya.”
“Hey, Van?” I stopped and turned to look at Ryan, who had stripped down to his boxer briefs when I was avoiding him. I was able to take in his full body with my eyes. His toned, 6 foot 1 frame, high thighs, sporting an impressive bulge. “You’re one weird dude, you know that?”
“Yeah,” I laughed nervously. “I know.”
Soccer season finished that year and Ryan and I didn’t interact much after beyond idle chatter with the guys and smiling at each other in our yards. He got accepted into a college out of town, so I only saw him next door on his extended vacations. I never expected to ever have a real interaction with him ever again.
I was pretty wrong about that.
It was spring break. I was 18 years old, preparing to finish my senior year. My mother was away on a business trip. Most of my friends were away on vacation, and the ones that remained I didn’t want to talk to. My entire spring break was going to consist of me lounging around my house by myself.
Friday, on the first day of spring break, I found myself getting out of bed at noon. After brushing my teeth, dressing myself in a white t-shirt and black leggings under black basketball shorts, I was outside stretching before a run. I was about to take off when a voice stopped me.
“Hey Van!” No surprise for you guys, but it was Ryan Mah.
“Oh, hey!” I said. This was the first real look I had of him in two years. God he had gotten even more attractive. Red tank, grey sweatpants. Still in as great shape as ever. Stylish short haircut. Attractively grown-out stubble. He made his way over toward me. Hopefully I don’t make myself look stupid.
“How’ve you been, man?” he asked me as he gave me one of those awkward bro hugs that require you to lock hands and pat each other on the back.
“I-I’m good. How’ve you been? How’s college life?”
“Awesome, dude. I’ve loved it. So what are you up to?”
“Oh, me? Nothing. I was just about to go for a run, that’s all.”
“Hey, what a coincidence! I was too! Care if I join?”
I wanted to tell him no because I didn’t want to risk the potential of me saying something dumb. “Sure!”
It’s important to note that I absolutely regretted running with him, though. I enjoy going around the neighborhood because I love the freedom of setting my own pace, going my own path, being in my own thoughts. I can’t have that with Ryan. I struggled to keep up with him to not seem weak, meaning I was essentially following where he wanted to go, and had to engage in small talk.
Ryan told me about his life. How his college soccer team was doing. He told me about his relationship with the girlfriend he had, and how they had recently broken up in a messy way. He also told me that it was his the week of his parents’ 30th anniversary. They offered to take him to Hawaii with them, since it happened to coincide with Ryan’s spring break, but he encouraged them to go by themselves, and he’d stay at home and watch the house and take care of the cat.
Finally we made it back home after 20 minutes. I was a sweaty mess, breathing heavily. I felt so out of shape it was hard to believe I had been playing soccer for the last 11 years of my life.
“So how’s soccer going for anyways?” Ryan asked me.
“This season has been good, I guess,” I said. “Typical season. Coach asked me to be team captain this year, but I turned him down.”
“What!? Why!?”
“I’ve just been doing soccer so long, I’m losing interest. I almost didn’t even want to be on the team this year, and I don’t think I’m gonna continue in college.”
Ryan’s expression almost seemed upset. “Seriously? That sucks. You were always really good. But I understand that.”
I couldn’t help but feel happy that he said that. Not just the compliment, but the fact that he noticed me at all and seemed sad about me. It made me want to lessen the blow for him, even though I should have no obligation to.
“I’m still thinking about it, though. I’ve gotten offers.”
“Cool, you definitely should consider it.” He paused. “So what are you gonna do now?”
I didn’t know what he wanted to do, but I got the implication that he wanted to hang out more. I knew I couldn’t handle that.
“I think right now I’m gonna head in and take a nap.” That wasn’t a lie. I hadn’t been up for that long, yes, but my pathetic body was exhausted after that run trying not to fall behind Ryan.
Ryan laughed. “All right, dude. Seeya around?”
“Yeah, seeya.”
We parted ways and I headed inside.
Too tired to change or take a shower, I only managed to take off my shirt before I lost all remaining energy and flopped down on the couch in the living room. I turned on the TV but didn’t really pay attention to what was playing, I just wanted the background music. All I did was look up at the ceiling, shut my eyes, and drift off into sleep.
I didn’t know how long I had been asleep when I awoke the feeling of weight on my stomach. My eyes groggy, my brain unable to process what I was seeing yet, I panicked when I saw somebody on top of me. My immediate response was to kick, but something was keeping my legs together at the ankles. I gasped, but a hand covered my mouth, while the other held my own hands together above my head, pressed up against the couch.
My vision clears and I figured out what you had already assumed. It was Ryan on top of me.
“Don’t struggle.” He told me. “We’re just gonna have a little fun, okay?”
Naturally, I felt conflicted.
) But at the same time want to see what he has planned in store!
