Surge Ch. 02: Equation of Emotion

A gay story: Surge Ch. 02: Equation of Emotion Previously on Surge: Roan, a college student blessed with the ability to control objects through an energetic bond, has devoted his youth to protecting the city. Now navigating university life alongside an old friend and long-time crush, Roan finds himself stepping into the social whirl of a frat party. It’s time for him to shed his reclusive persona and forge new connections.

The boy bobbing his head up and down Lucian’s cock wasn’t enough to distract him from scrolling through articles on his tablet.

Lucian lounged on his ivory cot, a massive window beside him offering a view over the city skyline. As raindrops pattered against the glass, his eyes landed on the article he had been searching for. The headline read, “Man in a Red Costume Miraculously Quenches Fire with Apparent Magic.” Lucian murmured to himself, “Surge, so the city has named him.” He chuckled lightly. An intriguing moniker for someone also blessed with powers by a lightning strike, he thought.

He needed to find this boy right away and add him to Lucian’s collection.

Lucian’s eyes opened wide at a sudden pain in his groin. He lowered his tablet and saw the boy smiling back at him. His soft hazel eyes and black hair couldn’t hide his ripe young age of twenty-one, five years younger than Lucian. He never bothered to recall his name. But with a twinkle in his eye and a devilish grin, the hazel-eyed boy opened his mouth and slid it over Lucian’s cock. Once he reached the base, he barred his teeth and lightly pressed it against his shaft, sliding up.

“Holy,” was all Lucian could muster. The feeling was electric, something he’d never felt before. His toes curled as the boy’s teeth moved higher, stopping just at the head where he swirled his tongue around it.

“You seemed a touch distracted,” remarked the boy with hazel eyes, a hint of smugness in his tone. “I was beginning to wonder if my skills were losing their charm.” His words flowed smoothly, yet carried a slightly tart edge, much like sour honey.

“I’ve had plenty of boys like you.” Lucian set his tablet to the side and propped up on his elbows. “They tend to bore me.”

The boy kissed the head of Lucian’s cock. “You’ve never had anyone like me.” Once again, he devoured Lucian’s dick and gently slid his teeth up the shaft. Lucian moaned, his own head falling back to the feathery pillow.

Suddenly, Lucian felt the absence of the boy’s warm mouth embracing him. The boy crawled forward and climbed on top of the man. He opened his ass and let Lucian’s dick rest against his hole. Lucian felt the boy’s hole pulsating, begging to be filled. He reached out and grabbed the boy’s soft cheeks, but they were swiftly swiped away.

“The big-bad-boss man needs to learn how to relinquish control.” The hazel-eyed boy pulled Lucian’s hands over his head. He then lifted his ass and pushed down on Lucian’s cock, swallowing it inside.

Screams of pleasure traveled from the boy and into Lucian’s cock. The tight walls gripped and squeezed him with each thrust.

“Give into it,” the boy whispered into Lucian’s ear like a fiery succubus. Lucian was sweating at this point, his blond hair swaying back and forth in front of his eyes as his body shook. “Feel my body taking over yours. The heat swelling inside of me and sucking on your dick.”

With each pump, Lucian felt the cold air of the high-rise suite swirling around his dick before it being plunged back into the boy’s ass, turning into an inferno. The hazel-eyed boy’s rim was the tightest thing Lucian had ever experienced, like a gateway to another realm of pleasure. He wanted nothing more than the flip this skinny boy over, plant his paws on his ass, and drill him until he screamed. But he didn’t.

He lay there and enjoyed the pleasure, and the sweet whispers in his ear.

The boy flicked his tongue along Lucian’s ear lobe. “I can imagine your precum filling me, your dick so lost in pleasure that it can’t help but spill over. Fuck me, over and over. Fuck me. I want you to reach parts of me no one ever has.”

He sat up and pushed his hands onto Lucian’s pecs, riding that dick like there wasn’t anything else in the world.

“Yes! Yes!” the boy screamed in ecstasy, his glistening throat just begging to be held by Lucian’s hand. But he didn’t move.

Lucian barred his teeth and finally let a loud moan escape–it was like a dam that had held bad years of water, finally allowing itself to let lose. His moans filled the room as he watched his cock appear from the boy’s ass and then disappear, his head enjoying the most amazing sensations.

Thump. Thump. Thump. The hazel-eyed boy’s thin dick slapped Lucian’ on the chest as his precum dripped out. He seemed to be more in heaven than Lucian, which was new for a whore.

And almost like the climax of an orchestra of instruments, both Lucian and the boy screamed as they came. The boy’s semen coated Lucian’s chest, as Lucian’s filled the boy.

Before their breaths could quiet, the boy pushed up, and Lucian felt his throbbing dick plop out of the boy’s ass and fall against his stomach. The boy’s cum dripped out of his hole and fell over Lucian’s dick.

Lucian spoke in breaths. “Get. A. Towel.”

The boy shook his head. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“Cum like this shouldn’t be wasted.” The boy slid back down to Lucian’s knees and ran his tongue up Lucian’s shaft, swirling his semen all around. He engulfed his dick and sucked on it with an intense force. Lucian buckled under the pleasure of his warm cum dancing around the boy’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Lucian said. “Holy shit.” He’d never stayed hard after an orgasm before, but this boy’s mouth was magic. He sucked and swallowed, and just when his cum was all gone, the boy licked the man’s chest to gather his own orgasm.

With a final suck, Lucian let out another gasp of pleasure and let loose in the boy’s mouth, filling his throat just moments after filling his ass.

And just like that, the hazel-eyed boy stood to his feet and gathered his stuff. “I presume that was fun for you?”

Lucian chuckled an honest chuckle, something he wasn’t used to. “It was okay.”

The boy scoffed and walked toward the door, barely covering his parts with his balled-up clothing. “I’m confident that you’ll summon me again.”

With a grin, Lucian said, “I wouldn’t count on it.”

The boy left, and a woman entered a room, wearing glasses and a scowl that never left her face. “Master Noble, shall I add him to the list?” She moved over to the tablet on the floor and picked it up, scrolling through something.

Lucian caught his breath and slid into some pants. He thought to put a shirt on, but he worried he’d overheat from what just happened. “We most certainly should.”

“And where shall I place him?”

“Let’s not be coy. Top of the list.”

“Oh?” she cocked an eyebrow. “Even over Jessica? She’ll be hurt.”

“Tell her to get teeth like him and I’ll reconsider the placement. But let’s move on to more pressing issues. Have you decided on a worthy applicant?”

His assistant nodded and jiggled her glasses. “I think you’ll be most pleased. Sable, will you please come in.”

Through the door, a young woman walked in, flipping a knife in the air, and catching it repeatedly. Her black hair was tied into a ponytail, with a single stripe of purple running through it.

Lucian’s assistant said, “This is Sable. She graduated top in your academy. They said she took down every challenger without breaking her smile.”

Lucian eyed the knife jumping into the air and back into the woman’s palm. “I had expected someone a little bit older, Rachel.” The knife went higher and higher as Sable walked closer. “Someone with more experience.”

The knife went high this time, and it was almost as if time slowed as his attention was singularly focused on the knife doing cartwheels in the air. As it fell, a hand reached out from behind Lucian and grabbed the blade by the hilt and drew it closer to his throat.

“How did you get–”

“Experience is only handy if you have the skill to back it up,” Sable said, her breath like honey. The memory of sour honey aroused his drained cock. “And I have plenty of that.”

Lucian smirked. “Perhaps you are worthy of my power.”

“Power?” the girl asked.

In a blink, a dozen glowing swords materialized in the air, their color golden and brilliant. They levitated around Lucian and angled toward the girl. In response, she released Lucian and backed away.

“Gifts, my dear. A few years ago, a thunderstorm hit the city, and a few lucky individuals were struck by lightning and gifted incredibly powers. I’m sure you heard of this Surge roaming the streets.”

Sable didn’t speak. It was understandable. She kept her eyes trained on each blade, probably planning out her defense if needed.

“When I was struck, I thought I was one of the unlucky ones, because I didn’t seem to gain anything.” Lucian twirled his hand, and the blades obeyed, spinning in the air. “But I later learned that I had the ability to steal other people’s powers. Not only that, but I can grant people a portion of my abilities. Since then, I’ve taken two abilities. First was this wonderful skill to manifest blades of energy that can cut through nearly anything.”

“And the second?” Sable asked, her eyes still trained on the swords that now twirled around her.

“We can save that one for another time. The point is, I’m a collection of sorts. And I have something I’d like you to do. In exchange, I’ll grant you some of my power.”

This finally caused Sable to divert her attention back to Lucian.

“It’s simple. I want you to track this Surge down. Discover what his power is, and more importantly, what his identity is. Return this information to me, and power is yours.”

Light gleamed in her eyes. Lucian knew he had her. Something in her past made her desire power for reasons beyond just a desire for power. He had hand selected individuals for his academy who yearned for the ability to rise above others. She wanted it, just as much as Lucian wanted that hazel-eyed boy back in his bed.

True to her identity, Sable’s smile never faltered. “Fine. Deal.” She shook his hand and moved back toward the door. “And where will I find this Surge?”

“Based on the papers, people seem to think he attends Cyan Star University. Cause a ruckus.”

“Got it.” Before she snuck out through the door, she spun on her heel and said, “By the way, I would’ve made top of your list.”

Friday night rolled around quicker than Roan expected it. His hands shook as he drew closer to the frat house. Music blared into the nigh air, lights flickered around, and a pungent scent of weed replaced the air. Roan had fought countless criminals who would kill him in a second, but somehow this was what he feared most.

A couple shoved past him as they rushed up to the front door. Once it opened, the sound of the music boomed, roaring electric beats and foul lyrics. It was a party alright.

“What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?” Roan turned around to face the endless possibilities that awaited him back in the heart of the city. Surely there was someone holding up a bank and threatening people’s lives. If only he were so lucky.

“Oh, Roan, you made it!”

Roan turned to the voice and saw Violet running toward him. She was a friend from his meteorology class. Perhaps the only other person as equally and awkwardly fascinated by the weather.

“I had no idea you’d be here, Violet!”

“What? Me? I’m always here. It’s you I’ve never seen around here before.” She punched him in the chest and held Roan by the arm. “Walk me into this place. It looks a bit more intense than I remember. I hear the frat when all out on this one.”

It was August, the beginning of the college year, so it was a cause to celebrate. Granted, fraternities always found a reason to celebrate.

Once they made it inside, Roan could hardly find something to focus on. People were shouting in joy, throwing footballs over people’s heads, spraying alcohol anywhere and everywhere, and dancing to the music. It wasn’t long before he lost Violet to the crowd. But just when Roan’s knees wanted to buckle and crawl out of there, he ran into Gil.

“Holy, motherfucking shit!” Gil said. His face went brighter than the sun. “It’s motherfucking Roan. Holy shit.”

“Oh, come on,” Roan said, trying not to make every encounter with Gil become a blush-fest. “I said I would show up.”

“You did. I guess… I guess I’m just surprised you were able to finish your calc homework in time.”

“Stop it! I regret ever telling you that.” They both laughed.

“Come on, let me introduce you to some guys.”

Gil grabbed Roan by the hand and dragged him through the crowd, making sure not to let go for even a second. They made it into another room of the house where people were playing pool–which seemed hard given the rows of beer bottles lined up on the rim.

“Hey everyone!” Gil announced, “This is Roan, an old buddy of mine. Let’s give him a warm welcome, alright? And hey, keep tabs on his drinks, will ya? I bet he’ll be seeing double after just one bottle!”

“Hey, Lightweight!” they all cheered, raising a bottle.

Roan rubbed his face and eyed his old friend. Shaking his head, he cheered back, “Hi, everyone.”

Through the night, they all played pool and laughed at any number of unfunny jokes. But it was an amazing and new feeling for Roan. He’d spent so long isolated from people, hiding behind his mask, that he forgot what it meant to connect with people. Even if he couldn’t remember anyone’s name. It didn’t matter. Tonight, it was like time stood still–like lightning stood trapped in the sky, never reaching the ground. It was nice.

And then.

“Hey.” Gil leaned over into Roan’s ear after taking a shot of pool and accidentally hitting the 8-ball in. “Before it gets too late, I wanted to show you something up in my room. Do you want to come?”

Goosebumps ran all up and down Roan’s neck. Gil’s room? He worried Gil was drunk, but he didn’t remember Gil really drinking much. It took all of Roan’s energy to nod his head and reply. “Uh, yeah, I mean, sure… Yeah.”

“Cool. It’s upstairs and the second door to the right. I’ll meet you up there in a second. I just want to get us some drinks.”

Gil vanished into the crowd, and Roan searched for the stairs, making his way up to Gil’s room.

Gil’s. Room.

For a moment, Roan thought he was back in his apartment, back in his bed, with his eyes closed and imaging some fantasy while his hand was down his pants. But this was real.

He found the second door and went inside. His room was as typical as a college boy’s room, but nonetheless still exciting to be in. The television flickered, having been left on all day. It was muted on the sports channel. He then spotted the bed, all neatly put together. Roan placed his hand on the comforter, and uncomfortably, his dick fluttered from the thought that Gil slept here. In his underwear, or even better, naked. Sometimes Roan felt like a juvenile with the way he thought, but he couldn’t help it. This was the room of the boy he had always had a crush on.

And in the back of the room was a collage of pictures stuck to the wall. Pictures of Gil’s beautiful brown eyes laughing with his friends at a carnival, or another of him with his family. Roan even spotted a picture near the bottom of Gil and Roan together as freshmen in high school. Roan remembered that day because Gil wouldn’t stop pressuring Roan to try out for soccer together.

Roan gazed into the picture, staring at his own blue eyes–the fear inside. Even back then, before he was struck by lightning, he was awkward. Scared to connect. Scared to reveal who he was, what he wanted, what it meant to be himself. Not like that ever changed.

Roan grabbed a picture of Gil off his desk. His brown hair would fall against the ridge of his nose, always too long, but always too cute. Roan folded the picture and stuffed it in his pocket.

“I see you found the collage.”

Roan spun around in shock and saw Gil standing in the doorway, holding two glasses of brown liquid.

Gil closed the door behind him and joined Roan. He handed him a glass.

“Oh, no thanks,” Roan said. “I don’t really drink.”

Gil chuckled. “I know. It’s soda.”

“Oh.” Roan brushed Gil’s finger as he took the glass. “Wait. How do you know that?”

“How do I know that you don’t drink alcohol?” Gil asked. He pulled his shirt off and threw it to the ground, revealing his smooth chest.

Roan couldn’t help but be wide eyed–it was everything not to let his mouth drop. His body was more beautiful than he could imagine in his fantasies. It was tight in all the right places and muscled in the other–like a true soccer player. How could he just pull his shirt off like that in front of Roan?

Sure, it was what guys did without thinking, Afterall, they were just two guys, right?

Gil turned to his drawer and rummaged around. “Well, Roan, you kind of wear who you are on your sleeve.” As he leaned forward to dig into his drawer, Roan saw the upper rim of his boxers poking through his pants. And as he leaned even further, he could almost see the beginnings of his ass. “Smart guy with every desire to succeed. To be liked. Get you into a room where you’re comfortable, and then we’ll never hear the end of your wisecracks, too. Honestly, that one I kind of miss about you.” Gil found a shirt and slipped it over. It was grey and large, hanging loose over his body. “Ah, much comfortable.”

“What are you talking about? I still make jokes around you.”

“Nah,” Gil said. “Nah, you don’t.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh yeah? Make a joke right now.”

Roan smiled large. “What, just right here? While the floors are rumbling like an earthquake.”

“Yeah, smart guy.” Gil pushed Roan, and he fell into the bed. Gil plopped beside him. “Joke. Now.” He held his gaze, his face–his lips–only a few inches away. His hand was dangerously close to his own.

“Uh.” Roan couldn’t think. His mind went quiet as he heard his heartbeat over the music. “What… what did the gingerbread man put on his bed?… A cookie sheet.”

Gil just stared at him. And then his lips slowly turned up until they couldn’t turn up anymore. He burst out laughing as loud as Roan ever heard him, and then he shoved Roan back into the bed. “I’m going to steal that one come Christmas.”

The brown-haired boy got back up and moved to his backpack.

“So, Gil, what are we doing up here?”

“Well, Roan, what do you want to do up here?”

Was this a trick question? It had to be a trick question. If he could answer truthfully, he’d say he’d want to pull Gil back onto the bed, rip off that grey shirt, and press his lips to his nipples until Gil screamed in pleasure. But that wasn’t what Gil wanted, right? But what college boy would bring someone up to their room during the largest party of the year if they didn’t want to fool around? There wasn’t any other explanation–

Gil pulled a textbook and notebook from his backpack and jumped back onto the bed. He crossed his legs and faced Roan. The title of the textbook: Calculus.

“For a smart guy,” Gil said, “you’re terrible at math. And I hate to break it to you, but if you want to be a meteorologist, you’ll have to use some of that.”

“Storm chaser,” Roan corrected. “And this is why you brought me up here? To study?”

“Well, yes.” Gil opened the book. “And to drink some sweet soda with you.”

Roan chuckled. He took a deep breath and shook off his hormonal arousal. Somehow, this reality was better than any he could’ve thought of. Spending the night with just him… it had been so long. It brought him back to those late nights of them simply playing video games together.

The night went on with both studying calculus and trying to keep their eyes open by pumping their veins with soda. As the night went late, the party died down.

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Roan yawned. “I think it’s about time for me to head home.”

“I hear ya,” Gil said. “I’m going to pass out the moment you step out of that door.”

Roan slid off the bed and looked back at his old friend. “Gil.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. I needed this.”

“Of course, man. You’re always welcome to our parties.”

“No, not the party. This.”

Gil smiled. “I know what you meant. We’re always here for each other.” Before Roan could step out, Gil stopped him. “Roan. Tomorrow night, you should come back over. Let’s just hang out. Watch a movie or something.”

Roan’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, we haven’t reached chapter two yet.”

Roan mustered his remaining energy to laugh. “Yeah, yeah.”

Out the door, down the stairs, and out of the frat house, Roan walked the empty streets, enjoying the chill. Despite how tired he was, his smile wouldn’t leave his face. It grew as he replayed the night in his head over and over.

It grew–until he saw a spark of an explosion off in the distance, near his college.

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