Che: a Bi Beginning

Lit paper 2003

Daniel pushed open the heavy steel door of the student art studios and stepped into the bright, hot midday light of an early September afternoon, blinking against the sun. He pulled out his dark shades, slipping them on as he strode across the pavement shimmering in the heat towards the Commons, the sidewalks crowded with a flood of students scurrying to their first-week classes.

He checked his watch, and smiling at some pretty blondes as they sashayed by in shorts, and figured he'd have some time to grab a smoke and a soda and check out this year's crop of talent before he was due at the dojo for his weekly Tae Kwon Do class.

Leaning back against a tree near the Commons entrance, he lit up a hand-rolled smoke retrieved from his well-worn, well-loved cigarette case, the sun glinting off its silver,

satiny-dull from years of use, the Cyrillic monogram spelling out V.A.N. Vasily Anton Novikov. It was his fathers, just about the only thing he had left of him.

He'd left him, and his Philosophy Professor Mother ten years ago, moving back to Moscow, losing his visa after their bitter divorce. As Daniel grew into his dark, exotic good looks he constantly reminded his mother of the man who romanced, philandered, and ultimately abandoned her, and he bore the brunt of her wrath and withdrawal of any affection, or even, attention. An only child, he was often lonely.

But, as he matured, attention and affection from women, who were drawn to his dark, wounded intensity and lean, muscled body, and he noticed, even attention from some men – that was not a problem.

He'd found solace early, and often, with the leggy blondes he preferred, who were drawn to his mysterious, dark eyes and olive skin, thick, shaggy dark waves and a chiseled face that barely gave a hint to his ethnicity. But, sometimes he missed, he wondered, he longed for, strong, masculine arms to hold him, comfort him, tell him that everything was going to be alright, that he was wanted, loved.

Someone like him.

Even though he was born and raised in this Midwestern college town, sometimes he felt like he really was an outsider, from some strange foreign land, something missing. If not, he looked the part, at least, of someone bohemian, artsy...different.

Daniel was often mistaken for a Hispanic or Middle-Eastern or some other international student, which was a source of unending amusement to him. "If I had a quarter for every time somebody came up to me and asked me how I liked this country, I'd have $17.75," he grinned to himself, noticing some boldly inquisitive glances from the passers-by.

A sweet-faced girl, her brown hair in braids, gave him a curious look as she passed by and he smiled a hello. She stopped briefly, her voice unnaturally loud and bright as she over-enunciated, "Hello to you! Do you need any help?"

Exhaling a stream of smoke, he smirked back, his voice low and drawling, "Not really, darling. Do you?"

The dark-haired girl, taken aback, stammered a reply, "Ohhh, I'm...sorry. You look lost. I th-thought you were, no offense..."

Daniel cut her off with a bored sigh and a rakish smile, "A foreign student. No offense taken."

Daniel slipped the case back into his jeans pocket, smoking and nodding as he smiled welcomes to the pretty young things entering the Commons, enjoying the sunny scenery. His gaze was caught by a red vintage Toyota Land Cruiser pulling up to a parking spot by the curb. A dark-haired girl, her full curves highlighted by a black sundress, jumped from the passenger side, blowing kisses to the driver as she strode off down the sidewalk, her dark, wavy locks and leather back-pack swinging behind her.

The driver stepped out of the immaculate vintage 4x4, tall, long-haired, and rock-star lean, his denim shirt unbuttoned and showing his toned chest decorated with a hippie-ish handmade beaded necklace. His eyes were hidden by mirrored aviator shades as he stretched and yawned in the heat. He began sauntering towards the entrance, his step languid, like he was moving to some music that only he could hear.

"Probably the Doors,"

Daniel thought wryly, exhaling in his direction,

"or maybe Pink Floyd. Hell, he looks like the second coming of Jim Morrison."

Daniel caught his mirrored gaze as the vintage 4x4 driver passed by him, "Nice ride. That a Land Cruiser? What year?"

"1979, FJ40," the rock-star driver said, stopping as he lowered his shades to get a better view of the commentator, "All original, my friend."

"Shit, I'm impressed. You don't see many like that around, in that good of shape. Must have set you back a bunch," Daniel countered, smiling a welcome wreathed in smoke, "Where'd you find it?"

"It's my Dad's," Rock-star smiled back, shaking his long brown curls out of his dark eyes, "He likes to drive it to Mexico every once in a while, but he doesn't use it much, and it holds a lot of cargo, so he let me use it to move my stuff in. Shit, he's got like, a million cars, so I don't even think he'll notice that it's gone. You like this one, you should see my favorite car, it's a cherry-red 1970 Boss 302 with a 351 Cleveland, now

that's

a ride, son."

"Hey," Rock-star continued, "Can I bum a smoke? I was going in to get a pack, but," he shrugged, waving his hands, "Yours smell good. That a hand-rolled?"

"Yup," Daniel replied, drawing out his silver case and snapping it open, "European tobacco. I get it at the tobacco shop on the College Hill. Try it. It's pretty good, and there's no additives or anything, so..."

Rock-star took the offered cigarette, lighting it and taking a deep draw of the rich smoke, "You have very good taste," he exhaled, "Thanks for the tip, ummm," He shook his curls, smiling widely, "I'm Richard, Richard Weston the III, and you're?"

"Daniel. Daniel Novikov," he smiled back, "And no, just for the record, I'm not a foreign exchange student, or a C.I.A. operative, I just portray one on television. Actually, I'm...into art, sculpture, mostly. That's what my major is supposed to be, anyway. But mostly, for now, it's partying."

"That's my major, too, if my credits transfer," Richard smirked back, the hand-roll dangling from his lips, "Art – and partying. Or maybe I'll just start a band, who knows? Uh, you down for a drink or something? It's gotta be five-o-clock somewhere, right? Or maybe... it's 4:20?"

Richard's dark eyes narrowed, "If you're down? I live a couple of blocks, that way," he murmured, "We just moved in."

"4:20? I'm down." Daniel grinned at the invitation, "We? So, that's your girlfriend?" his head nodded in the direction that the dark-haired girl took, "She's pretty hot."

"Shit, Ashley? Naw, she's just my roommate. We transferred in from our last college together, long story," he waved his hand dismissively, "We've known each other for, like, ever." Richard laughed, "She had some...errands to do for me. Let's blow."

They hopped into the 4x4, Richard gunning the engine, the windows down and the radio blasting classic rock as they sped off to Richard's apartment, the top floor of a somewhat shabbily genteel large Victorian mansion just a few blocks away from campus. Richard threw open the door and they navigated through the piles of boxes, the afternoon sun glinting through the leaded glass windows, the hardwood floors gleaming.

"Grab a piece of floor, my brother," Richard grinned as he disappeared down a hall, "Turn on the stereo, you pick the CD, and I'll get the goodies."

"I know this house," Daniel called to Richard's back, "I used to party with some guys that lived here when I was in High School. How's the rent? It was pretty expensive, back then. There's like five bedrooms, right? They had to have 6 guys living here just to make it."

Richard reappeared around a stack of boxes, holding a cigar box, his eyes dancing. "No worries there, it's just me and Ash. We make it just fine. Ahh, I see you've found my favorite CD, god, I love Coltrane. Let's smoke!"

They smoked and joked, lounging on the floor, the expensive stereo wailing out some smoky, old-school jazz.

"Good call on the tunes, Daniel," Richard grinned as they passed the spicy smoke, "I can see you've got very good taste – exactly like mine."

CD's were changed, beers were opened, and Richard picked up a guitar from behind a pile and strummed along as they whiled away the afternoon, smoking and talking about girls, old-school jazz, vintage cars, abstract art and European masterworks, which, much to Daniel's envy, Richard had seen in person, many times. He'd been to London. He'd been to Barcelona. He'd been to Amsterdam.

They shared a million tales, of a million interesting things, and they lounged together, passing joints and talking like they'd known each other forever.

Richard listened attentively, his eyes dark and wide, his smiles frequent and welcoming and they huddled together on the floor, intent on their conversation, which flowed fast and furious, deep and profound. There seemed to be an instant fusion between the two, an electric spark of – you could almost say, attraction?

Daniel, intrigued, flattered, and mesmerized, shook the thought from his head, blaming it on the spicy weed.

"I'm fucked up,"

he mused,

"There's no fucking chance he's anything but straight."

Richard's phone chimed, shattering the mellow mood, and he swiftly checked it, remarking, "My Dad. I'm taking this, just a sec."

He motioned Daniel to silence, picking up, "Dad! How great to hear from you! -- Yeah, I'll have the Land Cruiser back this weekend, but only if I can get the Mustang, okay?-- Yes, we're all moved in. Oh, could you send me a bump, me and Ashley have to buy some furniture.-- Awesome, I'll check my account for it tonight, after I hook my comp up. And yes, we got it all paid up for the year. Thank you, Dad! Ash sends hugs. -- Love you, too."

Daniel eyed Richard enviously as he snapped his phone shut, "Must be rough. Now I know why you're not very worried about how much this place, or this kind bud, costs."

"White man's burden, my brother," Richard smirked, his dark eyes locked on Daniel's, "Yes, being the scion of the Weston fortune does have it's advantages – plus, I've got them wrapped around this," he crooked his little finger, "All I have to do is stay in school, and not get indicted for murder, and it's all good to them as long as I don't bother them with my presence too often. Works for me."

Daniel, lounging on the floor, nicely toasted, glanced up at the window, the golden light glowing a bit dimmer, and looked at his watch. "Shit, it's nearly seven -o- clock," he mumbled, "No Tae Kwon Do for me tonight, not that I'm in any shape for it, anyway."

"I've studied some martial arts," Richard smiled slyly, his dark eyes issuing a challenge, "Wanna spar? Come on, show me your best moves." Jumping to his feet, he threw off his shirt, his hairless chest and toned abs golden in the light. He assumed a ready stance, giggling and throwing exaggerated kicks at Daniel, still lounging on the floor, "Let's go, Bruce Lee."

Daniel jumped to his feet, laughing and circling Richard, ducking and weaving, batting away his attempts, feigning right and left and coming up behind him in one swift move, pinning Richard's one arm behind him, his other muscled arm wrapping around his neck in a choke hold, his strong, sinewy leg firmly planted between Richard's struggling knees, Richard laughing uproariously.

"Give up?" Daniel breathed in Richard's ear, his lips dangerously close to his cheek, which smelled of patchouli and cannabis, "Say Chuck Norris, or I won't let you go."

"Chu...ck fucking N...orr...is," Richard gasped, laughing, as Daniel released him, "You're not shitting, my man, you know your stuff. Damn you, you've won this round, Mr. Lee!"

He turned around, his hands gripping Daniel's shoulders as he grinned widely, his eyes sparkling, "Good job, my friend." He pulled Daniel to him, hugging him warmly, slapping him on the back, "We're alike, you and me. Like brothers, almost, eh? Let's go get some Chinese, my treat. I've got the mad munchies."

From then on, you could say they were pretty much inseparable. Every minute not spent in class, or sleeping, or working at the student art studios they were together, partying, eating, hanging out, or going for long, aimless cruises in one of Richard's Dad's endless supply of borrowed cars. Richard always had plenty of money, and loved to spend it, plenty of friends who loved to party, and plenty of pussy, and loved to share it.

There were wild parties every weekend, dutifully hosted by Ashley, and lots of party favors and arty party girls, always willing to hook up in one of the spare bedrooms of the large apartment with one of the two dark-haired, dark-eyed, golden-tanned party gods and then get gone in the morning, before Daniel limped home to his small basement apartment to sleep yet another one off.

One Friday afternoon in October, they were sitting together on Richard's newly-bought antique leather sofa that they'd scored at one of the local shops, passing joints, bare feet up on the coffee table, downing some ice-cold brews, listening to music, watching cartoons with the sound off and making plans for the night's festivities, as the sun grew thin and dim.

"We really should get some more beer," Daniel said through a haze of smoke, "Before we can't – or don't want to move. Where's Ashley? I thought you said she'd be bringing us some food by now."

"Running some errands for me. She'll be back, if she knows what's good for her," Richard drawled, "We're gonna wait for her, that's for sure. She might have something more for us than just food," his eyes narrowed, his smile sly, "Candy, bro. Nose candy."

Ashley's key turned in the lock, and she flounced into the room, exclaiming, "Hello, boys! Mommy's home!" Drawing a wad of cash from her leather jacket, she threw it down on the coffee table, drawing up a chair, her dark eyes sparkling.

"No Chinese take-out, Ash?" Richard cocked an eyebrow, "Or did you bring us some...Bolivian?"

"What's the hurry, boys? Of course I came through for you," She drew a hand mirror and a silver straw from her backpack, "Oh, and there's your money – I got, umm, all your "errands" done for you." Ashley dangled a baggie packed with white, crystalline powder over Richard's lap, "To the victor, the spoils."

Richard's dark eyes danced, "Boo-ya! That's my bitch!"

The trio, grinning with giddy anticipation, began to consume the potent blow. Rails were chopped, Richard saving the biggest for, "His best-est bro," and Daniel leaned in to the sparkling powder, inhaling through a silver straw that Ashley offered. He felt a surge of crackling electricity rise up his spine, the powerful rush hitting him as he threw his head back, savoring the astringent burn of the potent flake.

Talking excitedly, making exceedingly outrageous plans, (Let's start a commune! We really should get our band going!) - sharing secrets, (Ash is bi! I hate my Dad! Hey, me, too! ) they burned through line after line, each bump sending them higher and higher, Richard and Ashley exchanging knowing, furtive glances.

Ashley, her thumb and forefinger pinching her nostrils, rose and stretched, "I don't know about you boys, but I'm fucked up!" She giggled, her eyes wide and wild, "I'm gonna take a shower and mellow out, okay? Now, don't miss me too much, ya hear?"

"Whatever, Ash," Richard mumbled while he changed the CD, and wandered off in search of a beer, "Just a sec, I gotta pee. Catch a bump, brother."

Daniel, his buzz in full effect, did another line, listening to the shower splashing and Ash and Richard's giggling in the bathroom.

"Goddamn, coke makes me horny,"

he mused idly, adjusting his jeans over his thickening cock, electric waves and sparkles flowing through him,

"We should go out and score some pussy."

Richard, his eyes sly and bright, flopped down on the couch next to him, offering a beer as he slung his arm over Daniel's shoulder. "Ahh! I'm so high!" he laughed, "All we need is a little extra "diversion' to make this evening complete, don't we? So, you got any ideas?"

"We could call up some chicks," Daniel murmured, "I could use a little "diversion," if you know what I mean."

"I do, my brother, but we don't exactly have to call anybody." Richard purred, his dark eyes narrow, "So, umm, did you wanna do Ash? 'Cuz that's cool with us. I talked to her in the bathroom. She's yours...for the taking, if you want her."

"Yeah, that's...cool. But what about you? I mean..." Daniel felt his libido surge, his head swimming with the possibilities, the thought of Ashley, nude and wet, Richard close to him on the couch, the combination of chemicals and Richard's warm, muscled arm around him tantalizing.

"Both of us, my brother. Ash loves a double-team," Richard leaned in, his hand reaching up to ruffle Daniel's shaggy waves, "She'll fuck us both – it's pretty hot. So, you down?"

Daniel's eyes, smoldering with lust, locked Richard's as he softly intoned, little electric shivers going down his spine, "I'm down."

Richard stood, pulling off his t –shirt, his lean form shadowed in the dimming light. Shaking his long curls from his eyes, he lit a cigarette, leaning in the doorway as they waited for Ashley to appear.

Ash stepped into the room, wrapped in a black silk kimono robe, her wet, dark hair pulled into a pony-tail, her mouth twisted in a sexy smirk. She ducked past Richard leaning on the doorframe, and he whispered to her as she stared towards Daniel, her dark eyes hooded and sly.

"Daniel," she cooed as she crossed to the couch, sliding in next to him, "I heard about you two boys "predicament," and I'd love to help you out. Both of you. Is that okay with you, baby?"

She leaned over him, her full lips grazing his cheek, her pink tongue reaching out ever-so-slightly to touch his earlobe. She breathed out, her voice sultry, "I've been watching you for a long time, Daniel. I see the way you look at me. Take off your shirt, honey."

Daniel, his senses alive with electric waves, pulled her to him, his mouth meeting hers roughly, swiftly. His tongue flooded her mouth, the raw sensations overtaking him as his hands slid along her back, taking in the ripe curves of her shoulders, her waist, his cock pulsing with sudden lust, spurred by the potent coca.

He slipped the satin robe off her shoulders, pale and smooth in the dim light, her cleavage ample as she threw her head back, Daniel's lips at her neck. He reached down, tracing a wet line from her neck to her round breasts, tugging at the tie of the robe. It loosened and fell, her pale nude body glowing in the light, her rounded breasts heaving, as Daniel's searching lips found her shower-warmed, damp nipples, already erect from the cool air and her arousal.

He sucked them greedily, his lips and tongue swirling them, his mind in a libidinous fog as he turned from one to another, his hands squeezing and cupping. He could feel his erection, almost painfully tight in his jeans, urgent, throbbing for release as he stroked her soft skin, her newly-scrubbed scent light and sweet, like lilacs and sunshine.

His hands moved from her breasts to her face, her mouth, his fingers tracing over her parted, sighing lips, her tongue reaching out to slide between his fingertips. Her dark eyes stared down at him, taking in her darkly muscled new partner, reveling in his sharp, sudden lust.

She shifted her gaze upwards at Richard, standing over them, her eyes signaling towards him to take a position next to her. He snuggled into her back, his hands reaching down to slip the loosened robe from her, tossing it to the floor, the ripe curves of her hips and thighs now exposed, as she writhed against Daniel, still continuing his oral caresses at her full mounds.