If you are under 18 years of age, this is not for you. If you are offended by male/male relationships, then do not read this work. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This is a copyrighted work of fiction. All right reserved.
This is my first submission to Literotica, I hope you enjoy. To K, your reactions helped encourage me to keep at it! To my editor, Colandra, thank you for all your help and encouragement!
Paul Wheeler was sitting outside of his campus dorm in the grass. He kicked off his sandals and sighed at the feeling of its coolness between his toes. He had taken to doing this almost every night now that the weather had lost the chill of winter. It seemed to calm him before heading to bed. College life was a lot different than he had expected. It was much less...eventful. He supposed he had expected a lot more action, but between rugby practice and classes, he really didn't have a lot of time or energy for much else. He had received a substantial rugby scholarship, so he wasn't about to blow his chances with heavy partying, drinking and whoring around.
Most of his other teammates didn't seem to have the same feelings about that as he did though. He hated seeing the endless streams of girls leaving the rooms on his floor. No one seemed to care that the girls weren't allowed in the dorm, much less inside the rooms. He shook his head at the risks all these morons were taking with their education. Paul knew he was lucky to be here at all, without his scholarship there would be no other chance for him to get a degree. Besides, he wasn't interested in girls who gave it away for free. He actually wasn't interested in girls at all.
He had been "out of the closet" for years. In all honesty, he didn't feel he had really ever been "in." As long as he could remember, he had liked guys. He told the rest of the team he was gay during the first practice, after some of them had been bragging about the chicks they had been sleeping with. Paul had politely declined when they offered to set him up with a "sure thing." When they had pressed him he told them he had no interest in girls, since they had the wrong parts for him. The locker room had fallen silent until his roommate and teammate, John, had nervously chuckled and said, "Dude, are you saying your gay?"
Paul smiled and replied simply, "Yeah."
John's answering whistle and one lone, "Whoa," were the only sounds before the room slipped into silence. Rugby is a heavy contact sport, being up close and personal with the other people on the team was a given. Paul could practically hear the thoughts of all the guys in the room, so he decided to address them head on instead of letting it build to something even more uncomfortable. He took a deep breath and said, "Nothing personal guys, but if you are worrying about me getting a hard-on or something from you during plays and stuff, you can stop. None of your ugly mugs are gonna do anything for me. Big, hairy, muscle bound, meathead jocks are not even close to my thing."
"So, what is your thing? Maybe we can help you out," John had asked, he seemed to be genuinely curious.
"Just not you guys," Paul evaded.
John had laughed loudly and thumped Paul on the back as the rest of the locker room was filled with hoots of laughter and promises of finding him someone. He feared for a moment that he might have became a personal project of the team. The uncomfortable tension that had filled the room moments before had disappeared, and he received quite a few more pats on the back. He had been a bit shocked at a few of the guys who told him they respected his guts for coming out, and thought that he chose a perfect time instead of lying and then the team finding out later.
Despite all the support and practice on the field, during the first shower some of the guys had seemed reluctant to strip in front of him. He had done the only thing he could, strip and get in before anyone else. John, who he had become really good friends with very quickly, broke the awkward silence with a wolf whistle. He immediately followed the whistle with, "I'm glad you aren't interested in any of us, because I really feel sorry for whoever has to take that thing."
Paul had laughed half heartedly and almost let slip the fact that "that thing" Paul was referring to had never been used to that effect before. The few guys he had dated, seriously enough to consider having sex with, had been afraid of his size. He was sure that telling the team he was a virgin was not a good idea, unless he wanted to be teased for the rest of his college life. John was the next one in the a shower and after that the rest of the guys followed. Soon the shower was filled with the nonsensical comments and conversations as usual. Paul could feel eyes on him every now and then, checking out his dick. He knew they were just checks to make sure he wasn't getting turned on, so he just pretended he didn't notice. When a few more comments were made about his penis size, he knew that the awkwardness of his being gay was over.
Paul had given up on being viewed as normal a long time ago. He drew attention by his size and build alone, not to mention he had enhanced his natural musculature with years of working out. On top of his appearance, he never hid the fact that he was gay. Paul still remembered the first time he came home in the first grade and told his parents about the new kid at school he had a crush on. He had excitedly described the cute curly brown hair and pretty green eyes to his father. His dad had been watching television at the time and had absently asked what the new kid's name was. Paul would never forget the look he had gotten when he had said, "His name is Kevin." Paul's mom and dad had exchanged a long look with each other, and then his father had turned to Paul. From what Paul had heard from most of the other gay guys he met, his father had responded completely opposite from what seemed to be the norm.
Paul's dad had looked at him very seriously and said, "Paul, are you saying that the kid you like is a boy?"
"Yeah, he's a boy," Paul had answered, confused by the question. Paul then added an enthusiastic, "He's really cute!"
His father had stared at Paul's mom for what seemed like several minutes before he had reached out and put a hand on Paul's shoulder. He had looked Paul straight in the face and told him, "Son, if this isn't a one time thing, I want you to know that your mother and I will always love you. But, life can be hard and people can be cruel, you will understand this more as you get older. When that happens, I want you to know as long as you find someone who will love you like we do, we will always support you." His father had then patted him, rather awkwardly, on the arm. Paul hadn't realized until later in his life just how blessed he was to have parents like that.
It didn't take as long to realize that his father had been right about the difficulty and cruelty though. The first of these was discovered with his first broken heart. Kevin, of course, had not been gay. That was only the first in a long line of crushes on straight guys.
By the time he hit puberty and discovered his love for rugby, he had mostly been accepted as openly gay. Most of his classmates were used to him by then and, at the rate he was growing and putting on muscle, the ones who weren't began to keep their mouths shut. He knew compared to others his life still had been pretty easy thanks to the support of his parents and his build. He had always been masculine, so much in fact that people often didn't believe he was gay. He thought one of the most ignorant things he had to hear on a regular basis was the responses of, "No way!" or, "Are you serious?" when he told people he was gay. He didn't understand how his appearance dictated his sexual preference.
He had actually started dating some in high school and had a steady boyfriend named Jared his sophomore year. Jared had been cute, blonde, and delicate. Paul could still remember his ice blue eyes, although now Paul knew the were probably the same color as Jared's heart. They dated all through sophomore year and until the end of junior year. Paul thought Jared had really loved him. Paul had wanted to have sex with Jared, but the blonde boy had never been ready. Paul had decided not to push him so he was waiting patiently until Jared was ready. That relationship had ended when he caught Jared sleeping with a supposedly straight football player. It seemed that the two were dating secretly, and Paul was just being used as a cover for Jared's real relationship. Paul had been on a few dates but he hadn't been serious with anyone since. He hoped that college would be different. He had finally managed to put that betrayal behind him and he was hoping that someday soon he would meet "The One."
The sound of an argument broke his reminiscing, and he looked up to find the source. In the distance he could see three guys advancing on a smaller figure. The group was pretty far away, down at the edge of the building, but he could hear raised voices and see the obviously threatening body language. However, they were too far away for him to understand what they were saying. He paused one second to consider going inside to get some help. He changed his mind when he noticed the smaller figure trying to evade the three larger guys, and them responding by moving to block the escape route. It looked like the smaller figure was limping.
Paul hated bullies with a passion. They were cowards and he had flattened a few in his time. Paul could move pretty quickly when he needed to and something told him he needed to get to the group quickly. He was proven right when he got close enough to hear the conversation taking place in raised voiced. One panicked voice was shouting, "I told you I'm not interested in having a good time! I don't want to go with you!"
"Come on baby. We'll treat you real nice, and show you how it is with real men." The one who said this seemed to be the ringleader. The fact that he was grabbing his crotch at the same time definitely belied his words. The other two goons laughed and lunged, simultaneously catching the smaller figure between them. Each one had a wrist in his hand and suddenly the small figure let out a voice that a giant would have been proud of:
"LET ME GO YOU SLIMY PIECES OF SHIT! STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS! GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!"
