Speedy raindrops from the silver-lining clouds soak Allen's thin cotton green t-shirt, outlining his muscular physique as his casual clothes tighten around his smooth body. Kris's windbreaker repels the happy tears from the sky, bouncing with splats off his jacket. Allen gently pulls Kris's hood back, allowing the rain to freefall into Kris's tall hair that sweeps to the side of his head. Their foreheads rest against each other's.
"Allen, I love you," Kris moans deeply and passionately.
"Kris, I love you more than you love me!" Allen returns.
Kris slowly raises his wet-haired head as he gives Allen a warm, satisfying kiss. The two continue to stand romantically under the hot summer rain.
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"Mom! I'm home!" Kris gleefully announces.
"Honey!" Kris's mom, Sarah, rushes to give her only child a welcoming hug. "I've missed you so much."
Kris returns the warmth by embracing Sarah even tighter. "Me too Mom, me too."
His dad, Kyle, slowly wheels himself over behind Sarah, nodding at Kris when his son gives him an eye contact.
"Dad!" he acknowledged, trying to detach himself from Sarah's hug without hurting her feelings. He kneels on the hardwood floor and places his smooth hands on his dad's unmovable thighs and rubs it ever so gently, trying to keep them from getting cold. His dad strokes his son's back of the head as tears gather in his eyes.
"What's wrong Dad?" Kris says, worriedly, as he brushes away his dad's tears.
"Kris," Kyle pauses and gulps, "I should give you a heads up." He pauses again; Kris eagerly waits for his dad to finish.
"I need you to know," Kyle continues, "that I will be only able to afford you to college for one more semester before..." Kyle gulps.
"...before your dad has to amputate his legs." Sarah bitterly finishes for her husband.
"Dad! Why? What did the doctors say?"
"The virus is slowly going up to my body, and the doctors recommend that I take my legs away before it's too late," his dad mutters.
"But... but they said they can fix it Dad! They said they can!"
"They can... or at least they have a better chance if I cut my legs off," Kyle gently pats his right thigh.
Kris shakes his head until he was dizzy enough to lose his balance when he stands back up. Sarah attempts to comfort Kris, but he breaks into a puddle of tears and runs back into his room.
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"Dad, I'll work and study at the same time. That way, at least there would be another source of income."
"Honey, but that would be too stressful for you. You know you're not in good health most of the time," his mom reminds him.
Kris drops his fork onto his plate of spaghetti and thinks for a moment. Ever since he contracted pneumonia when he was five years old, his respiratory system does not necessarily allow him to do anything he wants.
"I'll work in some office, and I won't have to run around. Mom, I'll need to work sooner or later anyways. Maybe it's time for me to help out."
Sarah wraps her arms around Kris, "Thank you, son. I'm so sorry that you will have to work and study at the same time because we can't work." Sarah was laid off three years ago as a teacher, still struggling to find a job to this day.
That week goes by really fast as Kris waves a bitter goodbye to his parents and gets into his car and drives four hours back to his college. While driving, he couldn't stop but to cry his way back to the campus.
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Kris parks his car and gaze over the time: 12:03am.
He sobs his final round until he runs out of tears, and quietly sits in his car before slipping into a deep sleep.
The morning comes rather too soon; Kris can barely manage to pry his eyes open when the sun smiles at the kid. He blocks the light with his hand, only to penetrate through the gaps between his fingers. He yawns and gives out a moan. It's a Saturday morning, where usually hunky guys would go on the field to play a rough game of football or soccer. Kris steps out of the car to stretch his legs as the guys approach the field. Kris can only stare until one of the many hunks stares back. Kris immediately turns, blushing. The guy is wearing a tight jersey tank top with wrist bands around his arms. His short black spiked hair pokes at the sky as if it's reaching for the stars.
Kris holds himself steady by gripping the car door as he takes off his shoe to let his foot breathe some fresh air. Then he slams the door and turns, standing on one foot, only to jump when he sees the hunk that he was looking at is within touching distance. The hunk grabs Kris's arm to help him balance again as Kris violently coughs.
"I'm sorry I scared you," the hunk said when a soothing voice.
Kris frowns but tries to be polite, "No, don't worry about it."
The six-feet tall hunk towers over Kris's 5'9 body and smiles. "You looked like you wanted to join us in our sports."
Kris hesitates, "Uh, I'm not that into sports. I can't really play since..." He lets out a violent cough again, this time choking a bit.
"I'll get you some water." He turns as Kris reaches for his arm that's covered with minimal amount of hair. A strange fuzzy feeling envelops Kris as he touches the hunk's solid arm.
"I... have some in the car."
"Oh." The hunk hesitates then sticks out his arm. "Name's Allen Wales."
Kris wipes his hand on his pants first before shaking his hand, "Kris Chang."
"Hey Wales! You comin'? The game's startin'!" The guys impatiently yell across the field.
"You wanna watch, Kris?"
Kris pauses, with a sudden thought of his dad in his mind, but then lets it go and joins Allen. Kris walks slightly behind Allen and Allen introduces him to his group of friends. Every time a name is introduced, Kris gives them a nod and a warming smile.
"I'll take a seat over at the bleachers," Kris informs the group.
"You're not playing with us?" one of them asks.
"No," he turns around, "I have health issues that limits how much I can do. Sorry."
Allen looks at Kris strangely in the eyes, and then gives a confident look, as if he knows what is exactly wrong with Kris's body.
Kris walks slowly to the bleachers, where the cheerleaders gathered. He takes a seat on the top level of the bleacher and squints to look that they have already started the game. One of the cheerleaders screams a high and annoying pitch as Allen runs past the two guys and passes the end of the field. Kris covers his ears, trying to recover his hearing. A sunlight distracted the pain and leads his eyes to look back at the field; Allen is looking right at his direction, smiling.
"Perhaps he's smiling at the beautiful girls," Kris rumbles in his head. Allen begins to run, still looking at the bleachers. He runs closer and closer to the bleachers and the girls begin to sweat, but then, he passes them, only to look at Kris in the eye, and then giving him thumbs up. Kris reluctantly returns a thumb up too, forcing a smile on his face as Allen runs back to the middle of the field.
Kris shivers as the cheerleaders glare at him with unquenchable anger; he tries to look to another direction sweating.
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The game ends when Allen, again, hurdles over the bodies that came charging at him and throws the football hard against the asphalt when he scores. The girls whistle and shake their body at the same time, trying to get Allen to acknowledge their presence. Allen takes off his tank top, revealing a solid built, six-packs, and a trail of brown hair that leads up to his navel. He twists his shirt as a bucket of sweat pours out onto the grass. The girls scream again.
The teams go in all directions when they finished with a huddle. The girls run straight to Allen, trying to grab his ass cheeks if possible. He skillfully avoids all the contacts with the girls, and with a sentence, he sends the girls chaotically wild, but dismissing them as well.
He steps up bleachers and seats himself next to his new friend.
"Um, Kris. You look really... depressed," Allen comments.
"I'm sorry Allen," Kris apologies swiftly and nervously, "I didn't mean to."
"No no, I don't mean it that way. What's keeping you from enjoying the day?"
"I, uh..." Kris pauses, thinking about how long since he has met Allen. "I..."
"You don't have to tell me. I just wanted to help Kris." Allen claps his giant hand on Kris's shoulder.
"I know I know, don't get me wrong," Kris pauses again, "it's some family and financial issues that I need to take care of. I need a job now."
Allen's predatory smile reassures Kris. His smile made Allen seem like an old friend chatting, trying to catch up with each other's life.
"What do you wanna do? I can help you find a job! I work with the college admins, so maybe I can get you a position."
"Really? I'll do anything!"
Allen grins suspiciously when Kris said that. Then he shakes off the dirty thought and pats Kris on the shoulder again.
"Which dorm building do you live in?"
"Over there, the E building, room 361," Kris answers. Then he pulls himself back. "Why did I tell him my room number?" He thought to himself, scolding.
"Really? I live one story below you, room 263," Allen says with a new surge of excitement, "maybe I can visit you some time."
Again, Kris gives him a forceful smile, not knowing if that was a friendly approach or a sexual one. However, the thought of the girls screaming wildly and uncontrollably pushes away the possibility that Allen is gay to the side.
"I like talking to you Kris. I don't know what it is about you but, you are attractive, if you don't mind."
Kris awkwardly looks at Allen, and then drops his sight to see a bulge underneath those white shorts. He looks away as Allen stares down at what Kris was staring at and laughs. Kris blushes. Standing up, Allen reminds Kris his room number again and proceeds to leave. Kris lets out a big sigh of relief as Allen pulls his dried shirt over his muscles.
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