Alright guys, its another "not about sex" story to follow up Neil. This one came out a bit harsher than the last one, but its another three part one, with more characters than just the two. Hope you guys like it! Feedback is surely appreciated...
____________________________________________________________________
CHAPTER 1: Quentin
The year had been non-stop thus far; since being accepted to Ryerson in April with a full scholarship, to moving to Toronto and trying to get settled before school started. My dad thought it would be a good idea to move into the residency a month before school started so that I could look for a job, and get used to the city. Growing up in a city of less than 70,000, Toronto was a big leap for my first time living on my own. The school itself was smack dab in the middle of downtown Toronto, two blocks away from the CN Tower, and surrounded by skyscrapers and big office buildings. It was one of the first schools built in Toronto, so each of the buildings were ancient stone and covered in decades of vine growth. Kerr hall was the main building, a giant square of halls that encompassed a lush garden of trees and shrubs; an escape smack dab in the centre of the chaotic city. It was here that I first met Quentin, the biggest man at Ryerson.
It was blazing hot outside, and I’d already finished unpacking everything in my room after my parents had left. The campus was spread out over four city blocks, the board buying any buildings in its way and converting them to Ryerson property as expansion. My residency was one of these buildings, an old hotel that they used as dorm rooms. It looked down on the Kerr Hall forest, so I could see that it was relatively empty.
I heard footsteps jogging behind me as I walked under a canopy of high up trees that blocked the city around me. A man came up beside me, wearing black running shorts and a light grey tank top, soaked with sweat on his chest. His defined shoulders and arms glistened with sweat as he slowed beside me, his breathing keeping pace with his strides. He swept his shaggy black hair across his face to uncover his steel grey eyes. He grinned at me, and extended a hand, now walking at the same pace as me.
- Hi, I’m Quentin.
- Derrick.
- Hello Derrick. Are you new to the campus?
- Yeah, just moved here this weekend. Starting in August.
- What’s your major?
- Film production.
- No shit. What profs do you have?
- Umm…Jacobs, Wilson, Hansen, and Parkinson. I haven’t met any of them yet.
- Well you’ve met one. I’d be that first one you mentioned.
- Oh…wow. Nice to meet you. You’re a professor here? You’re young…no offence or anything.
- Well none taken…I am young. My father is the dean, so I lucked out by getting a job when I was done my masters here.
We chatted for awhile as we rounded the path that lined Kerr Hall. It took me about twenty minutes into the conversation to realize that he was actually one of my professors…we seemed to bond like friends.
- So do you have a girlfriend back home?
- Uh…no. I mean I’ve had girlfriends in the past.
There was a silence. I could tell that he had caught on to my being gay.
- You know you’re in a much bigger city now.
- I know.
We continued to walk in silence with each other, but somehow the conversation seemed to continue in the silence. I’d admitted to him that I was gay, and he had comforted me. I glanced over, and he smiled at me. He stopped walking and turned, and I stopped, still facing forward, not daring to make eye contact for fear of falling for him.
- Listen, I’m having a bunch of friends over this evening for a bit of a party. I know how hard it is to move to a big city and not know anybody. Come on over, people are showing up around ten.
- Isn’t that…kind of inappropriate…I mean you’re a professor.
He laughed a little, and his eyebrow raised a little. He passed me a card with his address on it.
- It’s just a party. See you there, Derrick.
He winked at me, and jogged off down the path. There was something cocky about him that put me more at ease than I’d been in the city yet. It would be great to meet some friends…
Ten o’clock rolled around as I pulled up in a black taxi cab to 47 Princeton Crescent. Even the cab drivers reaction “Oh the Jacobs residence…” didn’t clue me in to quite how ritzy the neighborhood was. I paid the cabby and walked up the driveway to the front door. The house looked like a castle, huge slabs of brown and grey stone that made up the outside, and each wall covered in a structured array of vines and shrubs. It was already dark out, but huge floor to ceiling windows poured warm light onto the driveway to light my way. The giant wooden castle door was open a crack, with a note on the door.
It suddenly occurred to me how ridiculous what I was doing was. Walking into a near complete strangers house that was way out of any sane persons price range, wandering around this mansion trying to find friends. I laughed a little to myself in disbelief as I gazed into each room down the hall. Vaulted ceilings, marble fireplaces, stainless steel kitchen, fur, mahogany; everything was stereotypically wonderful. I heard violins down at the end of the hall, and saw water reflecting on the wall at the end.
I turned left into a world of humidity and warmth; an indoor pool took up most of the space smack dab in the middle of the room. Marble statues adorned the walls on their pedestals, and lounge chairs sat near them. An enormous skylight stretched the entire length and width of the pool, allowing some moonlight to penetrate, but other than that the room was lit only with the underwater fluorescent white lights. A large wall mounted stereo system played Bach that echoed through the room, reverberating off of the water and reflecting itself up to the skylight.
He was swimming lengths when I came in, alone, and wearing tight black Speedo shorts. His muscular back arched as each arm reached out of the water to pull himself further along. His calves strained beautifully in the water as he propelled himself towards my end of the pool. Once at the end, he flipped elegantly and pushed himself back towards the other end. I walked in carefully and quietly, over to the stereo, and turned down the music to a mere murmur.
- Some party.
My voice echoed softly like the music. He kept swimming, reaching the other end, flipping, and careening back towards my end. One last push with his arms, and he surfaced, folding his arms over the edge of the pool to pull himself up. He took off his goggles, shook his hair, and smiled.
- Thanks for coming. You missed everyone.
- It’s not even ten yet?
- Well it started at eight.
- You told me ten.
- Oh.
He smiled deliberately.
- Grab me that towel over there, on the heating rack.
I subconsciously let out an annoyed exhale, and walked over to a sleek looking register in the corner, where many soft white towels were draped. Turning back around after I’d grabbed one, I saw him push himself out of the water, his abdominals crunching as water dripped down back into the pool. He propped himself up to full standing, and put his hands on his hips, pushing his hips forward a bit. I didn’t realize I’d been staring, and he smiled again, brushing his hand through his jet black hair. I handed him the towel.
- I didn’t realize that professors were paid so well.
- Oh it’s not professors that are paid so well, its Deans.
- Well thank you daddy, I suppose.
We walked back to the kitchen and he got an orange juice, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist now. We talked about where I was from, what I was interested in doing with my future. Everything we talked about seemed necessary in a conversation, something that was bound to come up, as if we were just covering the essential topics. Our relationship was hollow so far…he seemed interested in me, but distant. Eventually we moved from the cold hard kitchen to a parlor type room just off of the pool. Enormous leather couches sat parallel each other to one side of the room, near a huge marble fireplace that he’d lit, a lush white fur blanket draped across the couches. On the other side of the amber room was a huge soft bed in dark red satin.
- Have a seat.
He said as he motioned me over to the fireplace. He made his way over to the side of the bed where he took off the towel to reveal a toned ass and thighs. He pulled on dark grey pajama bottoms, and then towel dried his hair a bit more. Next was a white tank top that showed off his chest and arms beautifully. He took a seat on the sofa across from me.
- So tell me about yourself, Derrick.
- What more is there to know?
- Well not about where you come from…tell about yourself, who you really are.
He was looking into me again, probing for something that I was desperately trying to not admit to myself.
- I get the feeling you know more about me than I know about myself.
- Well maybe that’s true. But I can tell you one thing, once you are true to yourself you’ll feel better about getting close to other people.
He got up and moved next to me on the couch.
- And maybe some people wouldn’t mind getting close to you.
My eyes strained and showed visible thought. I could admit it to him, I think he was interested in me. But I was scared…I didn’t love him yet. I wanted somebody, anybody, but I didn’t love him. Something was wrong.
- I think I should leave.
- Don’t go. You know you want to stay.
I looked at him and tears began to well up in my eyes. He pulled me closer and hugged me. It was something I needed, he knew that. He took off my shirt slowly, keeping eye contact with me the whole time.
- It’s okay Derrick.
He hugged me again, pressing himself against me. He was warm, but not soft. He kissed me, and I pulled back. Something was uneasy, something wasn’t right.
I ended up staying for the night, but we didn’t have sex. He sensed in me that I didn’t feel right about being with him. I craved social contact, I craved any contact at all, but I knew that giving myself up to him would hurt me more than it would help me. I curled up in his bed next to him, warm from his body heat next to me and the gentle sheets that enveloped us. I woke to the balmy light flowing in through French doors onto a balcony. I turned to face him.
- I’m really sorry, Quentin. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know you.
- I don’t know what I’m doing either. All I know is that I’m sick of coming off like a cold bastard to people, I get it from my father, I guess. I have the hardest time getting close to people, feeling love with anyone anymore. I mean I don’t have family here, I hardly have friends who actually like me for me. I can’t get close to people. But I feel something with you. You’re more real than anyone in this fucking city, and I’ve been here for awhile. Do you feel it?
I was in awe of this man. He wasn’t crying, but I could see the hurt inside of him. There was no wall there now, he was vulnerable. This cold hard city slicker had softened in twenty-four hours. But I didn’t feel it. What I did feel was a friend. Finally, someone that made me feel like I felt back home…welcome. And I couldn’t let that slip away, it was so convenient.
- Yeah…I mean, I think so.
He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. I felt as though I had made a mistake…I felt like I was lying to him. But from what I’d known of him, he wouldn’t stick around if he knew that there wasn’t a possibility of us being together. It hurt me to be lying, but I needed a friend. Now it was just a question of when he’d find out. We hugged, and my eyes opened to the window. The city stretched out to the horizon, and another day began. He sensed that I wasn’t at ease with where we were.
- This is something we can work on Derrick…just please stay for awhile, give me a chance.
And I did. I left his house that day with a peck on the cheek and he sent me back to my dorm room. I would see him around campus a lot, and he would spend some time with me around the city, clubbing and hanging out. The second month was a blur just like the first. I could feel him falling in love with me, and I could feel myself pulling away.
____________________________________________________________________
CHAPTER 1: Quentin
The year had been non-stop thus far; since being accepted to Ryerson in April with a full scholarship, to moving to Toronto and trying to get settled before school started. My dad thought it would be a good idea to move into the residency a month before school started so that I could look for a job, and get used to the city. Growing up in a city of less than 70,000, Toronto was a big leap for my first time living on my own. The school itself was smack dab in the middle of downtown Toronto, two blocks away from the CN Tower, and surrounded by skyscrapers and big office buildings. It was one of the first schools built in Toronto, so each of the buildings were ancient stone and covered in decades of vine growth. Kerr hall was the main building, a giant square of halls that encompassed a lush garden of trees and shrubs; an escape smack dab in the centre of the chaotic city. It was here that I first met Quentin, the biggest man at Ryerson.
It was blazing hot outside, and I’d already finished unpacking everything in my room after my parents had left. The campus was spread out over four city blocks, the board buying any buildings in its way and converting them to Ryerson property as expansion. My residency was one of these buildings, an old hotel that they used as dorm rooms. It looked down on the Kerr Hall forest, so I could see that it was relatively empty.
I heard footsteps jogging behind me as I walked under a canopy of high up trees that blocked the city around me. A man came up beside me, wearing black running shorts and a light grey tank top, soaked with sweat on his chest. His defined shoulders and arms glistened with sweat as he slowed beside me, his breathing keeping pace with his strides. He swept his shaggy black hair across his face to uncover his steel grey eyes. He grinned at me, and extended a hand, now walking at the same pace as me.
- Hi, I’m Quentin.
- Derrick.
- Hello Derrick. Are you new to the campus?
- Yeah, just moved here this weekend. Starting in August.
- What’s your major?
- Film production.
- No shit. What profs do you have?
- Umm…Jacobs, Wilson, Hansen, and Parkinson. I haven’t met any of them yet.
- Well you’ve met one. I’d be that first one you mentioned.
- Oh…wow. Nice to meet you. You’re a professor here? You’re young…no offence or anything.
- Well none taken…I am young. My father is the dean, so I lucked out by getting a job when I was done my masters here.
We chatted for awhile as we rounded the path that lined Kerr Hall. It took me about twenty minutes into the conversation to realize that he was actually one of my professors…we seemed to bond like friends.
- So do you have a girlfriend back home?
- Uh…no. I mean I’ve had girlfriends in the past.
There was a silence. I could tell that he had caught on to my being gay.
- You know you’re in a much bigger city now.
- I know.
We continued to walk in silence with each other, but somehow the conversation seemed to continue in the silence. I’d admitted to him that I was gay, and he had comforted me. I glanced over, and he smiled at me. He stopped walking and turned, and I stopped, still facing forward, not daring to make eye contact for fear of falling for him.
- Listen, I’m having a bunch of friends over this evening for a bit of a party. I know how hard it is to move to a big city and not know anybody. Come on over, people are showing up around ten.
- Isn’t that…kind of inappropriate…I mean you’re a professor.
He laughed a little, and his eyebrow raised a little. He passed me a card with his address on it.
- It’s just a party. See you there, Derrick.
He winked at me, and jogged off down the path. There was something cocky about him that put me more at ease than I’d been in the city yet. It would be great to meet some friends…
Ten o’clock rolled around as I pulled up in a black taxi cab to 47 Princeton Crescent. Even the cab drivers reaction “Oh the Jacobs residence…” didn’t clue me in to quite how ritzy the neighborhood was. I paid the cabby and walked up the driveway to the front door. The house looked like a castle, huge slabs of brown and grey stone that made up the outside, and each wall covered in a structured array of vines and shrubs. It was already dark out, but huge floor to ceiling windows poured warm light onto the driveway to light my way. The giant wooden castle door was open a crack, with a note on the door.
‘We’re inside, just follow the music!
- Q’
- Q’
It suddenly occurred to me how ridiculous what I was doing was. Walking into a near complete strangers house that was way out of any sane persons price range, wandering around this mansion trying to find friends. I laughed a little to myself in disbelief as I gazed into each room down the hall. Vaulted ceilings, marble fireplaces, stainless steel kitchen, fur, mahogany; everything was stereotypically wonderful. I heard violins down at the end of the hall, and saw water reflecting on the wall at the end.
I turned left into a world of humidity and warmth; an indoor pool took up most of the space smack dab in the middle of the room. Marble statues adorned the walls on their pedestals, and lounge chairs sat near them. An enormous skylight stretched the entire length and width of the pool, allowing some moonlight to penetrate, but other than that the room was lit only with the underwater fluorescent white lights. A large wall mounted stereo system played Bach that echoed through the room, reverberating off of the water and reflecting itself up to the skylight.
He was swimming lengths when I came in, alone, and wearing tight black Speedo shorts. His muscular back arched as each arm reached out of the water to pull himself further along. His calves strained beautifully in the water as he propelled himself towards my end of the pool. Once at the end, he flipped elegantly and pushed himself back towards the other end. I walked in carefully and quietly, over to the stereo, and turned down the music to a mere murmur.
- Some party.
My voice echoed softly like the music. He kept swimming, reaching the other end, flipping, and careening back towards my end. One last push with his arms, and he surfaced, folding his arms over the edge of the pool to pull himself up. He took off his goggles, shook his hair, and smiled.
- Thanks for coming. You missed everyone.
- It’s not even ten yet?
- Well it started at eight.
- You told me ten.
- Oh.
He smiled deliberately.
- Grab me that towel over there, on the heating rack.
I subconsciously let out an annoyed exhale, and walked over to a sleek looking register in the corner, where many soft white towels were draped. Turning back around after I’d grabbed one, I saw him push himself out of the water, his abdominals crunching as water dripped down back into the pool. He propped himself up to full standing, and put his hands on his hips, pushing his hips forward a bit. I didn’t realize I’d been staring, and he smiled again, brushing his hand through his jet black hair. I handed him the towel.
- I didn’t realize that professors were paid so well.
- Oh it’s not professors that are paid so well, its Deans.
- Well thank you daddy, I suppose.
We walked back to the kitchen and he got an orange juice, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist now. We talked about where I was from, what I was interested in doing with my future. Everything we talked about seemed necessary in a conversation, something that was bound to come up, as if we were just covering the essential topics. Our relationship was hollow so far…he seemed interested in me, but distant. Eventually we moved from the cold hard kitchen to a parlor type room just off of the pool. Enormous leather couches sat parallel each other to one side of the room, near a huge marble fireplace that he’d lit, a lush white fur blanket draped across the couches. On the other side of the amber room was a huge soft bed in dark red satin.
- Have a seat.
He said as he motioned me over to the fireplace. He made his way over to the side of the bed where he took off the towel to reveal a toned ass and thighs. He pulled on dark grey pajama bottoms, and then towel dried his hair a bit more. Next was a white tank top that showed off his chest and arms beautifully. He took a seat on the sofa across from me.
- So tell me about yourself, Derrick.
- What more is there to know?
- Well not about where you come from…tell about yourself, who you really are.
He was looking into me again, probing for something that I was desperately trying to not admit to myself.
- I get the feeling you know more about me than I know about myself.
- Well maybe that’s true. But I can tell you one thing, once you are true to yourself you’ll feel better about getting close to other people.
He got up and moved next to me on the couch.
- And maybe some people wouldn’t mind getting close to you.
My eyes strained and showed visible thought. I could admit it to him, I think he was interested in me. But I was scared…I didn’t love him yet. I wanted somebody, anybody, but I didn’t love him. Something was wrong.
- I think I should leave.
- Don’t go. You know you want to stay.
I looked at him and tears began to well up in my eyes. He pulled me closer and hugged me. It was something I needed, he knew that. He took off my shirt slowly, keeping eye contact with me the whole time.
- It’s okay Derrick.
He hugged me again, pressing himself against me. He was warm, but not soft. He kissed me, and I pulled back. Something was uneasy, something wasn’t right.
I ended up staying for the night, but we didn’t have sex. He sensed in me that I didn’t feel right about being with him. I craved social contact, I craved any contact at all, but I knew that giving myself up to him would hurt me more than it would help me. I curled up in his bed next to him, warm from his body heat next to me and the gentle sheets that enveloped us. I woke to the balmy light flowing in through French doors onto a balcony. I turned to face him.
- I’m really sorry, Quentin. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know you.
- I don’t know what I’m doing either. All I know is that I’m sick of coming off like a cold bastard to people, I get it from my father, I guess. I have the hardest time getting close to people, feeling love with anyone anymore. I mean I don’t have family here, I hardly have friends who actually like me for me. I can’t get close to people. But I feel something with you. You’re more real than anyone in this fucking city, and I’ve been here for awhile. Do you feel it?
I was in awe of this man. He wasn’t crying, but I could see the hurt inside of him. There was no wall there now, he was vulnerable. This cold hard city slicker had softened in twenty-four hours. But I didn’t feel it. What I did feel was a friend. Finally, someone that made me feel like I felt back home…welcome. And I couldn’t let that slip away, it was so convenient.
- Yeah…I mean, I think so.
He smiled and leaned in to kiss me. I felt as though I had made a mistake…I felt like I was lying to him. But from what I’d known of him, he wouldn’t stick around if he knew that there wasn’t a possibility of us being together. It hurt me to be lying, but I needed a friend. Now it was just a question of when he’d find out. We hugged, and my eyes opened to the window. The city stretched out to the horizon, and another day began. He sensed that I wasn’t at ease with where we were.
- This is something we can work on Derrick…just please stay for awhile, give me a chance.
And I did. I left his house that day with a peck on the cheek and he sent me back to my dorm room. I would see him around campus a lot, and he would spend some time with me around the city, clubbing and hanging out. The second month was a blur just like the first. I could feel him falling in love with me, and I could feel myself pulling away.
The End 
