Having tied up the locations for the upcoming ‘Animal House’ shoot, the last detail is to arrange lodging for the cast and crew. Landis is a stickler about getting all of us to bond. Having everyone stay in the same place is his idea of forced camaraderie. Our new friends at Phi Psi recommend we check out the Rodeway Inn in Springfield. We pull in and take a double room. The clerk relaxes when we ask for twin beds. We meet with the Inn’s manager, who is pleased to reserve a block of rooms for the month of February. It is their slow season. He gives us a great rate for the rooms and upgrades us for the next two nights. I make sure that Miller’s single room will be far from ours. Checking out the bar, we spot a piano and mic, for more bonding at the end of each day’s shoot. Cruising Springfield assures us that there is little to distract the crew, beyond the local pizza parlor that I quickly spot. The Rodeway’s restaurant is adequate to keep us fed. We end up back at Phi Psi, arriving with two cases of Olympia beer, which is cheered. Later we learn it is secretly disdained as a Washington State brew. The boys prefer Anchor Steam, the Frisco local brew. Oregonians are not sure which way the wind blows, stuck in the middle of two cultures. I count more Pendleton flannels than tie-dyed shirts. I bring in my SG and amp to entertain the boys. Trevor is my adoring fan. He gets kidded, loudly proclaiming his masculinity. After two brews, he is sitting at my feet, staring intently up at me, as I play Deadhead songs.
“Anyone want to get up here with me and sing? I usually know your favorite songs,” I claim.
The older frat boys are not shy, glad to participate. We mostly do songs everyone knows. It turns it into a sing along, mostly early 70’s rock anthems – Fleetwood Mac, even Boston.
“No one into Glitter?” I ask, hitting the intro to ‘All the Young Dudes.’ I get booed, too close for comfort. Trevor turns bright red.
“Com’n up here, Trevor. I know you wanna sing,” I encourage him. He is mortified. “How about some blues? Janis Joplin?”
“I can do ‘Bobby McGee,’” he admits. I gulp. It is too close for comfort, thinking about Tommy in The everglades.
“Well, get up here.” I start playing the main chords. I remember the proper words, not my Sawgrass Campground version.
Halfway through the song, Trevor pulls a harmonica out of his pocket, while I keep singing
‘I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna
And was playing soft
While Bobby sang the blues’
Songwriters: FRED FOSTER, FRED L FOSTER, KRIS KRISTOFFERSON
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
When I sing ‘Holdin’ Bobby’s body next to mine,’ Trevor starts to shake and looks like he is about to pass out. I stop playing guitar and put an arm around him. We finish singing without accompaniment. The frat boys are too stunned to cheer us.
“I guess that’ll havta do,” I announce. The boys clap and Trevor tries to pull away from me, to run back into the closet. I refuse to let him go, until the audience finishes clapping.
Landis gets up.
“Thanks for making us welcome to Eugene. We were a little put off by the clean-cut image over at Oregon State, but you boys make us feel at home. I hope you’ll consider being part of the production. We’re looking for students who know how to party, as well as those who look like they haven’t a clue.”
The Phi Psi’s are enthusiastic to learn they are needed as extras in a movie.
We talk awhile without mentioning his meltdown in front of his whole fraternity.
“I’m just a freshman. It’s left me pretty shook up.”
“I’m a freshman, too. I think being the same age is part of our attraction to each other.”
“How can you doubt it. We had sex within an hour of meeting each other. Now, you pretty much let everyone know how you feel when we sang to each other.”
“It’s just so new for me.”
“You never had crushes in high school?”
“Is there a gay support group on campus?”
“Yeah, but everyone will know if I go.”
“Seems like they’re going to know anyway. Why are you afraid of what others think?”
I realize I know nothing about him, except that he wants me, badly.
“Have you had girlfriends?”
“I don’t even have friends. Being in a frat is the first time I feel normal.”
“Nobody’s totally normal. Let’s just act like being boyfriends is natural.”
“I’m going to be here all next month. We can find out if we’re really boyfriends.”
“You have to enjoy it, not be so overwhelmed. We’re the same age, but I’ve been out since I was fourteen. You’ll get over being so confused by letting out your feelings, as you begin to feel comfortable.”
I tell him the story of how Joey supposedly molested me and, then set me up with girls to make me feel normal.
I relate my entire sex history. My high school years impress him that I genuinely loved anyone I went with. I exclude the hitchhiking trauma in Alabama. I tell him I have girlfriends but do not provide details. It is the sluttiness in the last few months that throws him off, especially Jake, at 42.
He is a silly virgin. I look at him for the first time. He is not some twink boy. His good looks start with the seriousness in his eyes. His dark hair and a strong chin exuded confidence. He is feeling dismayed, but there is a strength in his expression that attracts me. He doubts me because I have more experience. He can catch up, if I gave him the chance. In the back of my mind, I like feeling this way; it pushes Jake into a less serious place. Oh, how easily I am replacing him. The key for Trevor and me is whether he can accept my penchant for loving more than one person at a time. I grab the bull by the horns.
“What’s different about me is I can and seem to need to love and be loved by more than one person at a time. Can you deal with that?”
“I can’t say but I sure wanna try. Can I come home with you tonight?”
My dick knows that answer. We can get a separate room. Landis will joke that I use Trevor to get over being ignored in San Francisco.
“You gonna tell your frat friends?”
“If they ask.”
As expected, Landis is understanding. “Oh, to be eighteen again,” he moans. “That boy is a virgin, right? You better go easy on him. We go back to LA in a couple of days.”
I promise to play nice. “Do I need to get a dispensation from Sister Mary Boom Boom?” We laugh.
Trevor rides on my lap to the Rodeway Inn. I pay for a separate room. I get the one with the biggest bed. The clerk mumbles, “I knew it.” He says it is the honeymoon suite. Trevor is totally mortified as I lead him to the elevator. The bulge in his jeans indicates he will get over any diffidence. As soon as the elevator door closes, I made my move. The second our lips touch, he shakes and a tell-tale wet stain spreads across the front of his jeans. He is just like a fourteen-year-old Tommy. I try not to laugh. He starts crying. I use my ‘lick the lips’ move to reassure him. I fear he will cum again as he presses himself against me. The elevator door opens on a shocked older couple. We instantly move apart.
“Going up?” I ask.
“No,” the husband quickly answers.
I lick his top lip again. He instantly cums. I worry he will be done before we get to the room.
It is not an issue. Once behind closed doors, I pull down his jeans. He remains ready to go, if a bit sticky. I lick the sweet jizz from his lower abdomen. He starts to shake again, ready to go off a third time. I pull away and sit behind him on the bed. I massage his shoulders and back, while he shivers, finally calming down without cumming. He relaxes and leans back into my arms.
“Maybe we should talk,” I suggest.
He shakes his head, pushing back into my arms.
“I don’t wanna exhaust your sperm bank before I even get off,” I complain. “I’m pre-cumming like a mother-fucker.”
He laughs, turning around so we sit facing each other with our legs wrapped behind each other’s butts. He attacks my jeans, giggling when he pulls them and my Out and About briefs down. When my dick pops up, glistening from the pre-cum, he looks panicked by its size.
“It’s already been inside you once,” I remind him. He is bug-eyed and stunned that he so easily handled the size of it.
“Let’s do it again,” he suggests.
That thought makes him geyser again, the third time. I lean over and take his pulsating dick into my mouth. I realize he has a lifetime of jizz built up, ready to tell the world, ‘here I am.’ No need to count how many times he gets off. He falls backward, pulling me with him as his dick continues to go off down my throat. Once the pulsating stops, I reach up and pinch his hard as pebbles nipples, making him squirm from the pain and stimulation. The tip of his dick is knocking against my tonsils, as it jerks. His legs wrap around my back, pulling me off his dick. He wants to be kissed. I scoot up and we french intensely. I hook my arms under his knees, lifting his butt off the bed. My tongue is thrusting into his mouth, rolled up like a taquito. His tongue wraps around it and squeezes as I thrust. He groans every time I pull it back and moans as it thrusts inward again. I don’t need to be told what he really wants. I start rocking our bodies in synch with my french kissing.
“Fuck me. Fuck me,” he begs.
Remembering how I handled Tommy’s first time, which we called panther fucking, I stick just the tip of my dick inside his ass. He grabs it with his anal lips and squeezes in sync with my tongue thrusts. His breathing is ragged and wheezing. He starts to shake, about to cum. I pull out and rotate so he’s on top of me, his straining dick at the lips of my asshole. He acts stunned for a second. His breathing returns to normal. I pull him fully inside me.
“Sweet, Jesus,” he swears, suddenly doing what he subconsciously needs. He does not need lessons. He thrusts like a bull on a young heifer. We rock back and forth on the honeymoon bed. I can see a reflection of us fucking in the mirror on the ceiling – sweet honeymoon suite. Once his breathing became ragged again, I roll him backwards, expelling his dick and sticking mine just inside his anal lips.
“Holy, shit,” he knows he wants to be fucked as much as he needs to fuck me. He grabs my butt cheeks, pulling me fully inside. He grunts at my size. It does not slow him down, squeezing me as I thrust, and only complaining as I pull back. He is so good at this double fucking that I forget to hold back and realize I have gone far past my point of no return. I double the speed of my thrusts. Then fully inside, I hold myself rigid without breathing. After ten seconds a first blast erupts inside Trevor. I pull out, my dick squirting everywhere. Rolling back, I impale myself on his straining dick. The pulses of my orgasm inspires him to his orgasm deep inside me. I continue to spray him and the bedspread. He has cum all over his face and in his hair, with his head thrown back, as he empties himself inside me. I just knew he is a good top and bottom. I want to kiss him badly, but wait until his orgasm is done. We lay there in a heap, covered in cum and kissing like mad. We have gone at it for over an hour.
“What? Fucking or being fucked?”
“Both. It is just total fucking. I want you so much. And, I want you to want me so much. Oh, my god.”
It is Revelations, without having to go through the Rapture or follow the strictures of Romans I & II.
I pull him into the shower, soaping him up and rinsing him down. His breathing is still rapid. I turn him around and lick his ass clean. I feel him trying to suck my entire head into his butt. I quickly substitute my dick. He holds onto the faucets while I pump him with the hot water running over both of us. He is so relaxed that I finally just cum, not caring that he is not ready again. He erupts spontaneously, as I am spasming out in his ass. This time he washes me, then mounts me from behind, and cleans me up after he is done. I love hotel showers – unlimited hot water. We crawl back into bed. He is done but wants to talk.
He looks sad, thinking his first time will never be better.
“Every time should be unique. Don’t rate yourself. I gave a 72-year-old a hand job, ‘cause I felt sorry for him. Just a helping hand. He gave up paying for it with prostitutes after that. He can’t stand doing it with anyone who doesn’t care.”
“You are so nice. Should I be jealous?”
“It was just sympathy sex. And, don’t be jealous. My love life is complicated. You’re fresh news. I need that.”
“Do you love me?” Oh, my god.
“Of course, but I love people too easily. Are you possessive and demanding?”
“I’ve never loved anyone… before.”
He is a goner. I promise myself to do my best to love him back. The joys of being eighteen – the future is unlimited – but responsibility always sneaks up on you.
“Will you tell your boyfriends?” he asks. Is he testing me? Teasing me? Or, was he just being innocent. Why not?
“Well, Jack’s on the East Coast in our dorm room. No calls after ten. But Jake’s in LA. I should call him anyway.”
“Let me listen.”
“Okay, and if it goes well, you can speak with him, too.” Trevor’s eyes widen.
“Hey, Jake. I’m in Eugene. Miss me?”
“I figured you fell into the sewers of gay Frisco, never to return.”
“Sounds like you do miss me.”
“You are such a tease. How’s the trip going.”
“More exciting than I expected. The queens of San Francisco found me boring, but Oregon has been great.”
“Did you go to Reed?”
“Yeah. I tripped on mushrooms. Landis rejected it as too hippie. We found the perfect location in Eugene.”
“At Oregon State?”
“Naw. Oregon University. Not so clean-cut.”
“Did you get to perform for the boys?”
“Yeah. We did a sing along.”
“I’ll bet they love you.”
“Well, just one, really.”
“Oh, found someone new. Should I be jealous.”
“Yeah. His name is Trevor. No need to be jealous. He’s my age.”
“Oh, you like my maturity. Not letting me out to pasture yet.”
“You passing him around?”
“No, he wants to know you, that I’m not cheating on you.”
“I thought we were cheating on Jack.”
“That’s another story. Trevor just lost his virginity. He’s full of questions.”
“And, I’m the answer man?”
“He’s really sweet, but love confuses him.”
“Ah, love at first sight.”
“No, more like love at first bite.”
Trevor grabs the phone. I like that.
“Hi. And I fucked him, too.”
“Good for you,” Jake knows how to handle virgins. “Will I get him back, now that you’re dominating him?”
“It seems to work that way.”
“You’re not jealous?”
“I’m the one with whom he cheats on his roommate. I miss him but I’m happy for him. You sound nice, if a little inexperienced. Next time, don’t fall in love so quickly.”
“It’s my first time. I don’t even have friends.”
“That’s another problem. But, Tim is good to love. You’ll find friends appreciate you more if you’re not a virgin. How did you meet Tim?”
“He came to our fraternity. They’re going to use us in the movie.”
“If you’re in a frat, you must have friends.”
“Not real friends. They don’t even know I’m gay.”
“Tim tends to bring that out.”
“You going to tell your girlfriend, Joan, too?”
“You’re full of advice. Maybe. I haven’t seen her since we decided to go out.”
“When do I get to see you again? I have needs, too.”
“I like that. We’re pretty much done up here. The rest of the crew arrives in the morning. We just have to make sure they’re on board with our decisions. I’ll be back at the end of the week.”
“I love that place. How about Mongolian Barbecue?”
“It’s a date. I love you, Tim. Don’t let me slow you down.”
“I love you, too. I’ll be back soon.”
We lay in bed and talk all night. He grew up in Astoria. His father is a Baptist minister. His parents expect him to toe the line. His older brother is rebellious and fought with his father, finally getting kicked out. His dad never worries about Trevor who never causes problems and is an obedient member of the Church’s youth group. No one ever takes him seriously, just glad he is not like his brother. He has a romantic streak, telling me all about Astoria, where the Columbia River runs into the Pacific. It sounds nice. Pretty soon we drift into sleep. I wake up early, as usual, with Trevor wrapped around me..
I go to the restaurant and have breakfast. Landis joins me. The crew will arrive that morning, driving from Portland in a rental car.
“Where’s that boy?” he asks.
“Oh, Trevor? He’s still asleep.”
“You better take him back to school,” John acts paternal, tossing me the keys to the Roadster. “And best not to advertise to the crew that he’s your boyfriend. Miller especially may squawk.”
“Right. Thanks, Dad.”
I wake Trevor with a friendly kiss. He is in shock until he realizes it is me. He panics from being late for his morning classes. The freshman joys of eight o’clock classes. As we hurry back to Eugene, we chat about both being freshmen. He perks up from finding we have things in common. He jokes about how clueless his roommate is. I tell him the story of how Minehan become our roommate.
“You can sneak into Harvard,” he is amazed.
“Only if you have the balls to try and not care if you get caught.”
“You sure he isn’t in love with you, like Jack was in high school.?”
“No way. He’s like my best friend. He freaks out when we get too close. The day he met us at the club, he mocked us for being gay, like all Harvard students.”
“He’s a redneck?”
“The Boston version – an Irish Catholic snapper.”
“I wanna go to Harvard.”
“It’s not worth it. Everyone’s so stuck up about how smart they are. It makes them stupid.”
On the way back, I stop and get Landis his do-nut and coffee. We have a busy day of work ahead. He’s already on the phone, dealing with production details in LA. The crew is due to arrive by lunch. He takes a break to eat his do-nut.
“The suits want to cut the budget,” he complains.
“You want me to call Jay in Miami? He loves breach of contract.”
Landis looks at me and shakes his head. “Maybe you should be director.”
“No way. You’re the best director in Hollywood. Remember?”
He calms down. “Make sure Jay has the production contracts. I’ll deal with the suits. We may need PJ in New York to shop the film around, or at least get out the word that Universal is being difficult.”
“Better call Debbie after you finish your do-nut. She needs to design the bed sheet togas.”
“Right.” He has his marching orders.
Everything is back on track by the time the crew arrives and checks in. I order sandwiches and we gather in Landis’s room, the suite. John goes over the locations we scouted and explains why we chose Oregon University, for its funky charm. The abandoned house can be turned into a shabby frat, with the next-door frat supplying real student extras. Everything is to be done on the cheap.
“We chose the Rodeway,” John explains, ‘so everyone will be stuck with each other. You’ll either bond or go home. The actors will go by their character’s names and the crew can choose frat names for themselves. I want the film to have authentic camaraderie.”
Miller pipes up, “Looks like you two have already established your own gay camaraderie.” He points out that only one bed was slept in.
Landis is perturbed.
“I have my own room,” I jump to his defense. “I paid for it myself.”
“This is exactly what I don’t need on the set,” Landis is furious, turning on Miller. “You either get with the program or we’re having another boxing match.”
We drive to the frat location. The set people take pictures and make drawings. I look for Trevor around Phi Psi, finally asking if he is there.
“Not until later. They have pledge duty tonight.”
I get the house phone number so I can call him. They give me a big grin.
“You made our preacher’s boy come out of his shell,” a Phi Psi remarks, referring to Trevor’s harmonica skills.
They all laugh. I did not intend to out the boy.
Next we drive to the Lake club and repeat the scouting. I go and get pizza for everyone. It is warm enough to eat outside, about ten yards away from the spot where Trevor and I fucked. Sweet dreams are made of these.
Once back at the Rodeway, we review the day’s work in Landis’s suite. Miller has been so quiet that Landis has to ask him what he thinks. They discuss the need for several bedroom locations. I suggest we use the Phi Psi house, as it’s already set up with student bedrooms. It means going back to Eugene. I secretly smile.
The Phi Psi brothers have their freshmen pledges lined up in the front room and are hazing them for their inadequacies. Trevor is on his knees, asking for forgiveness, as we walk in. The house manager comes over. We ask if we can use several bedrooms in the movie. The rest of our group goes off to investigate possibilities. I stay downstairs, enjoying Trevor’s travails. Hazing supposedly is a bonding ritual. It seems inane. All the freshmen are harassed in turn. Trevor has spotted me. He flashes me a big smile. I check his jeans to see how happy he really is to see me. Once all the pledges are properly ‘punished,’ they are released. Trevor comes running over.
“You came back?” he assumes I am there strictly for him.
“We’re checking bedrooms for location sites.”
“Perfect,” I laugh. “The whole crew is upstairs.”
Trevor drags me next door to the porch of the abandoned frat. In a secluded corner we furiously make out.
My bulge is the only answer he needs, as I nod.
“Everybody was kidding me about you tonight.”
“Were they jealous?”
“They said you asked about me this afternoon.”
“I just said I like your harmonica playing.”
“They said that wasn’t the only thing I was blowing.”
“Did we do that?”
“You’re so bad,” he laughs.
It’s my cue to be Tom Petty.
Trevor is thrilled. He brings out his harmonica and blows blues to accompany me. We end with big smiles, but are stunned when five guys clap after our performance. Out of the closet and onto the porch. He is mortified.
“It’s okay, Trevor. We wondered if you had any personality, Mr. Preacher’s boy. You’ll survive.”
I assume they’re all Deadheads, so I start singing “A Touch of Gray.’
They all come over and sing with me while Trevor blows his harp. Pretty soon more brothers come over and finally the movie crew joins us. Trevor and I end our mini-concert with ‘Bobby McGee.’ Everyone sings along.
It brings me back to the campground and Tommy. Now I am crying and more embarrassed than Trevor who keeps blowing the harp.
“Fags,” Miller snorts.
Everyone turns on him.
“What’s wrong with you?” one of the older frat boys challenges Miller. “They’re just boys.”
Landis grabs Miller and pulls him away to the van. I can hear John yelling but cannot pick out his words. I love having a defender.
Trevor starts playing ‘Piece of My Heart.’ I sing
‘I want you to come on, come on, come on, come on
And take it, take another little piece of my heart now, baby
Break it, break another little bit of my heart now, darling
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Have a, have another little piece of my heart now, baby
You know you got it, if it makes you feel good, ooh yes it does, yeah’
Songwriters: JERRY RAGOVOY, BERT BERNS, ROBERT MCDONALD LIVINGSTON
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC.
Trevor looks lovingly at me as I sing the lyrics to him. When we finish, instead of applause, there is a communal holding of breath, waiting to see what we’ are going to do next. I want to kiss him, but it will have to wait. I promised John not to press any more gay buttons. I hug Trevor. Everyone sighs in relief, no screams of shock.
It is time to go back to the Rodeway. Trevor just follows me into the van. His frat buddies shake their heads and laugh. Trevor keeps his head down. Nobody says much in the van.
“You guys are just going to sit here and say nothing. This is Trevor. He helped us find the club we were at this afternoon.”
One of the set directors steps up. “Hi, Trevor. I’m Pete. I do sets. Are you Tim’s boyfriend now?”
Miller snorts again, unable to contain himself.
“Jeez, Pete. We just met,” I jump in.
“It’s okay,” Trevor is finding his feet. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. So, I don’t know.”
“What’s that kid you had at the boxing match gonna think?” Pete asks me.
“You had a fight?” Trevor is shocked.
“Ask Miller about that,” Pete suggests. The rest of the crew laughs.
“That’s Jack, my college roommate,” I answer the original question.
When we get to the Inn, Landis tells everyone to hang out at the bar. I sit down at the piano. Jace pops up, just in time to help me tinkle the ivory’s.
“You boys have any more songs we should hear?” Pete asks.
“How about a protest song?” Trevor holds up his harmonica.
“Yeah. Bob Dylan.”
“Well, since you really wanna know about me. Anyone know this one?” Trevor blows the chords to a song I do not know. Jace helps me pick out the notes. Trevor starts singing, ‘Sing if You’re Glad to be Gay.’
‘So sit back and watch as they close all our clubs
Arrest us for meeting and raid all our pubs
Make sure your boyfriend’s at least 21
So only your friends and your brothers get done
Lie to your workman’s, lie to your folks
Put down the queens and tell anti-queer jokes
Gay Lib’s ridiculous, join their laughter
‘The buggers are legal now, what more are they after?
Sing if you’re glad to be gay Sing if you’re happy that way’
Songwriters: THOMAS GILES ROBINSON
© CONEXION MEDIA GROUP, INC.
That stops the conversation. I get up from the piano and hug Trevor. He looks into my eyes for approval. Coming out is so powerful, especially to a friendly audience.
“Well, another one bites the dust,” I quip to the crew. “If we’re obnoxious, it’s ‘cause we don’t know what to do.”
I sit back down and pounded out ‘Bangladesh’ with Trevor joining me. The Beatles are more familiar. Everyone gathers around the piano and sings along.
Landis looks quite pleased. It is just what he wants, although not exactly how he planned it. The mood becomes raucous, with Pete and the guys yelling, “Gay sex. Gay sex.”
“I’m okay. Sorry. I had a flashback to senior year in Iowa. I’m really okay,” as I try to stand up without much success. Landis picks me up and carries me to the honeymoon suite. He is a bit shocked at how garish it is, with the heart-shaped bed and ceiling mirrors. Trevor is visibly upset, not by the bed, but by my breakdown.
“What is going on?” Landis demands once he knows I am not damaged.
“I have PTSD. I get flashbacks.”
“And pass out?”
“Last time I knocked out two football players and put down three more who were trying to rape Jack.”
“No. High School. Long story, but I have a shrink there. I thought I was cured. The cries of ‘Gay Sex’ were what the jocks were chanting before they attacked us.”
“You sure don’t look like you can beat up anyone tonight.”
“Miller missed his chance,” I joke. “In Iowa, after the fight, it hit me. I threw up, passed out, came to and attacked my best friend, passed out again and woke up in the hospital.”
Trevor looks bereft.
He perks up.
That is Landis’s cue to leave.
Trevor and I are alone in the honeymoon suite. He is tentative at first, worried I may relapse.
“Just don’t shout ‘Gay sex,’ when you’re horny.”
“You’re a Baptist, too,” Trevor is hopeful.
“Catholic, but my second mom and twin sisters are Baptist, so that’s where I attend.”
“I’m in the choir.”
“You know what they say about choir boys?”
“Pure of heart but wild in the sack.”
In the morning, the crew looks hung over. Trevor and I are too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for them. We sit with Landis and Miller.
“No more flashbacks?” Landis asks.
“Just good ones,” I joke. Trevor turns red.
“You have something to say, Miller?” Landis prompts.
He turns to Trevor. “I’m sorry for being mean. You’re a nice kid.”
“It’s okay,” Trevor agrees. “I’m sure my fraternity brothers will say worse things, once you guys leave.”
“That reminds me, Tim,” Landis remembers. “You have to fly back today. Your lawyer friend showed up with contracts to be signed. He also wants to meet with Junior Bronfman.”
“Oh, crap. I never told him we were coming up here.”
“There’s a ticket for you at Western Airlines. You can fly out of Eugene. We need to leave after you eat.”
Trevor looks distraught, I grab his hand, under the table, and give it a squeeze. We quickly finish our pancakes and run back to the suite to pack. It takes one minute, after which we passionately make out. Trevor cums three times without any prompting. I lend him a fresh pair of jeans. He looks so longingly at my gay briefs that I give him two pairs. We both laugh, but underneath it all, we dread our separation. Young love.
“I’ll come with,” he announces.
I shake my head. “I’ll be back in a month. Don’t throw away your college plans over a two-day crush.”
He’s despondent all the way to the Eugene airport. Landis sits with us while we wait for boarding.
“Trevor,” Landis tries to cheer him up, “we need you on the crew, if only to sing and play harmonica.”
He laughs. “My frat brothers will make my life miserable if I get special attention. Just let me be one of the extras.”
“Extra with benefits,” I declare.