A gay story: High School Elite
Notes: This is a gay male story. There is sex but also a fair amount of story. All characters engaging in sexual activity are above the age of 18.
*
He was watching me again from across the courtyard.
I nuzzled my boyfriend’s neck. When I peeked over, Alexander was still watching. His face was harder. His sharp jaw clenched and handsome cheek muscles… wait, wait, wait. I mean his completely average, normal face. I internally rolled my eyes. I got closer to Noah as a message to Alexander that I’m taken. Definitely not because I was enjoying his weird reaction.
Noah squeezed my thigh under the table. “Dylan, you’re super cute, but you know how I feel about PDA.”
I actually rolled my eyes this time and pulled away. I loved Noah. I really did. But ugh. Not only did he not like PDA (public displays of affection), he also wasn’t a fan of the other PDA (private displays of affection), as in sex. Because of his faith, he didn’t believe in penetrative sex until marriage. And he wasn’t all that aggressive with the other types of sex we had either.
I sighed. But we got along great otherwise, and I couldn’t complain about him in any other way. He was the classic golden boy at my private all boys high school for the 1% of the 1% of the wealthy, and I was an overachieving pretty boy. It would be weird if we hadn’t ended up together. Besides denying me sex, he was a great boyfriend… Maybe the passion I saw in movies and read in books was just as fictional as the sources…
Meanwhile, Alexander the fourth (yes, you read that right, that pretentious man) had transferred to our school at the end of freshman year.
The first interaction I had with him was a few days after his arrival when I was walking down the hallway and saw a junior shove him against a locker. Alexander seemed bewildered, and I don’t like bullies. The junior started belittling him, so I stepped between them with my smaller frame and told the larger junior to cut it out and pick on someone his own size. Though, when I looked between them, Alexander even then was pretty large, almost bigger than the junior.
Alexander started laughing. He asked the junior his name, who replied with his full name as if it should hold weight. Life lesson: If you have to say ‘Do you know who my father is?’ then your father isn’t important enough. Alexander typed something on his phone, chuckled again, and walked away.
The next day, the same junior was literally on his knees in front of Alexander begging him for mercy. He used that junior as his errand boy for the rest of the year.
When I asked Alexander what happened, he replied, “Who knows. Maybe my dad tanked his family’s company’s stocks, or if his family doesn’t have their own business, he threatened to have his parents fired. I don’t care enough to actually find out.”
“That’s…” I didn’t know what to say.
He touched the ends of my hair and brushed the shell of my ear, causing me to shiver. He said, “Thanks, by the way, for trying to stand up for me. No one’s done that before. You’re a cutie. You have a boyfriend?”
I blushed. “Yeah, Noah and I have been dating for a few months now.”
“Shame,” he tucked his hands in his pockets and walked away.
He was mostly a loner, but all the guys welcomed him whenever he wanted, out of respect or fear. He was invited to all the parties. He played sports and attended some clubs when he felt like it. Honestly, he was kind of a jerk to most people with his relaxed but intense no cares given attitude.
He’s been watching me from afar ever since.
……
Now, as 18 year old seniors, Noah and I hung out most most of the summer before senior year without parental supervision. We were having a movie night when things got hot and heavy.
His body pressed mine into the couch. His bulge rubbed against mine. I whimpered, wanting more, but he pulled back, putting distance between us.
I hated when he got me all worked up and stopped like that! He always said he had to pull back ‘before he lost control.’
“Uuughh!! Why won’t you just fuck me, Noah? You can’t even get me pregnant!”
Noah laughed. I’m frustrated, and he laughed! “First, language. And where is this coming from?” He has the audacity to ask me that?
“Seriously? Do you not even want me?”
“Of course, I do. You know it’s difficult for me to hold back.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” I muttered.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You never want to hold my hand or do anything in public, and even in private, it seems like… I’m the one always wanting more. Like, I know you’re into it, but it’s like you’re not into it as much as I am…” Could I sound any lamer? Did I sound like some sex nympho? A virgin nympho?
He got closer and put his hands on my shoulders, like he was calming an irrational person. “Honey, you know I’m really dedicated to my faith. It has nothing to do with you.”
Ugh, I also kind of hated when he called me honey. It was so impersonal, and I didn’t feel like it fit me at all, but it was his only form of endearment, so I never said anything. “But I…” I looked away.
“What is it?”
“I shouldn’t have to beg my boyfriend for physical affection! I respect your beliefs. I really really do… But what about what I want? The fact of the matter is that it’s not just the sex. It’s the rest, too. I shouldn’t constantly be waiting for you to hand out crumbs of attention.”
“That’s unfair. You know I love you.”
“I know…” I bit my lip and looked at his puppy dog face. His cute puppy dog face always got me. But I wasn’t going to let it anymore. “But I want more. I think…” I took a deep breath. “I think we should break up.”
He physically pulled back. “Seriously? You’re going to throw away a 3 year relationship because of sex?”
“It’s not only that. Haven’t you been listening to me? Do you not get that I want…” I didn’t know how to say it… to be pampered, spoiled, indulged, passionately wanted. “Just more.”
“Fine,” he said in a snippy voice and walked away. That was quite frankly the highest degree of emotion I’d seen from him.
Did I just make a mistake breaking up with an essentially perfect boyfriend? And for what? Possibly imaginary ‘passion?’ I sure hoped not.
……
That weekend, I went to a beach party hosted by Ashley, one of my friends from school. He met me at the door with a hug.
“Salut, Dylan! You’re looking tres hot tonight!”
“Merci, you too!”
“Come on, bonfire’s started on the beach. Drinks are across from my cousin’s band whose playing.”
“Cool.”
The usual was there, so basically everyone who was anybody.
My family was well off, but within the elite, we were small fish. I learned this early on, and I think that’s part of the reason I worked so hard to have straight As, play varsity sports, be yearbook editor, lead student council, and president the philanthropy clubs. Even when lacking familial power, accomplished, successful people are harder to ignore. But I had to be at peak performance at all times. Sometimes, it was fun winning the stupid, little games people came up with, and sometimes it was exhausting.
“How was everyone’s summer?”