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B sighed, took off his specs and rubbed his tired eyes. He'd been reading the same sentence over and over and still wouldn't be able to recall even the first word if you'd asked him.
Because the only words he could remember anymore were echoing in his head.
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Every tick of the clock on his table sounded like an admonishment and an unnaturally loud reminder that yet another second had gone by, making it a total of 97,258 seconds, since W had confessed that he liked B.
259...300...
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B gave up trying to make sense of String Theory because it didn't make any sense in the real world. Theirs was supposed to be a no-strings-attached, purely physical arrangement. It had started the day W had bent B over his own study table and fucked the daylights out of him.
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W was the typical college playboy, the athlete that every girl and a fair few boys wanted to be fucked by. B was the quiet but hot astrophysics major that girls crushed on, who neither knew nor cared about W and so obviously, got pencilled in at the very top of W's "To-do" list.
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So when W turned up at B's dorm room door one sunny Saturday afternoon, wearing a smirk and his basketball shorts and nothing else, B didn't know what to think. He'd been busy folding his warm-from-the-dryer laundry, at least until W threw him on the bed and kissed him breathless
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The laundry had to be washed all over again by the time W was done with B. And surprisingly, B didn't mind. He'd been incredibly stressed with having to keep up his A+ grades to justify his scholarship and being fucked senseless actually punched the strain right out of his system
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And W, he'd never fucked anyone who cared so little about him. B had promptly tossed him out of his room when they were done, unceremoniously and without so much as a goodbye. W found it refreshing. He was tired of clingy fucks who needed dates, courting and *shudder*
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relationships, before they would put out. He was shocked that B had been so practical about it. And surprised that B'd been so amazing at it. W was never one to let a good thing go. The next morning after basketball practice, W jogged to B's room and asked him to be his fubu
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They weren't friends, they didn't move in the same circles, they didn't attend the same classes. They were simply two guys who enjoyed cock and didn't want the associated complication of being in a relationship or the uncertainty of the quality of sex.
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B took all of 2 mins to say yes. He'd done incredibly well on his aerodynamics paper after their romp the previous afternoon. They sealed the deal with a quickie that had them suitably sated, and ate lunch together in the cafeteria to lay down the only rule B cared about -
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They would fuck each other only when they weren't dating anyone else. W was known to have short term flings. Often. B refused to be the one W cheated on someone else with. W was ecstatic. It gave him the freedom to play the field and still have B when he wanted.
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And B made a mental note to check his assignments, lab and exam schedules so he could give W a timetable well in advance. He wanted to make sure W knew when to be available. B's grades depended on it.
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And W had never let B down. B finished the year at the top of the Dean's List for Year 1 undergrads. Yr 2 was fantastic so far.
A call broke his thoughts. "Talk to him. He's in a bad shape" said Tu. B huffed out a long breath.
"You like him too, don't you?" asked Tu, puzzled.
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B leaned back on his chair and stared at a water stain on his ceiling. "I don't know if I love him, Tu. And I like him too much to just string him along for convenience knowing how he feels about me, about us." The word sat heavy on his tongue. Us.
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They'd become friends at some point. B didn't know when, but W had eventually wormed his way into B's life with his stupid self-deprecating jokes, his laidback charm and his irritating habit of "hanging out" in B's room after sex, each doing their own thing.
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W was annoyingly persistent and B got tired of forcing him out. As W pointed out, he did most of the work and B had to admit he did it exceedingly well. So they would sit, B studying and W playing video games, talking occasionally, going out to eat together sometimes
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B had gone to see W play once. He'd looked so hot on the court that B couldn't help riding him in the locker room after they won. Afterwards, W'd taken B along for the after-party with his team and introduced him proudly as the smartest guy he knew. B had felt warm inside then.
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"Whatever it is, talk to him. Dew says he's never seen him this broken. He deserves an explanation. You just said no and ran out on him" said Tu gently, but B knew it was a rebuke.
"I will. I just need to find the right words to say" promised B, even as his heart clenched.
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When B had shown up at W's door the previous evening with his Quantum Physics assignment in one hand and cookies for W in another, he had not expected W to kiss him differently - softer, sweeter, with more longing than lust. He could still feel how tenderly W had held him.
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"I love you, Vachi" he'd said simply, coming straight to the point like he'd always done. He'd held B's face in his hands and looked into his eyes and said it again. "I love you and I want more of you in my life. Be my boyfriend."
B had not known when or why W had fallen for him
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"He makes you happy, Bright. I see it, even if you don't. Maybe it's time you let him in" said Tu.
B felt his throat turn dry and he gulped water that trickled down his throat comfortingly. He felt uncomfortably warm. And that reminded him of W.
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B frowned as he remembered the night before his Mechanics mid-term, when he had a fever and W stayed with him as he studied, making him tea and giving him his meds, forcing him to sleep at midnight. He'd woken up to a bowl of porridge on his table and a note wishing him luck
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He had not known until Dew told him later that W had slept on the floor that night, waking up many times to place a cold compress or wipe away B's sweat as he battled his fever. W seemed offended when B gave him a blowjob to say thanks. He'd not stayed back like he usually did.
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"Fuck" B cursed and rested his aching head on the table. His Quantum paper was shit. He closed his eyes.
B had been using sex as a performance enhancer and that was fucked up by itself, but a problem for later. Ironically, he needed a dose of W to clear his head of W
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B stared at his phone until his fingers moved and he made a call he'd been pushing for far too long. "How is he?"
"How d'you think? He hasn't stopped drinking since you left yesterday. He's 90% whiskey, 10% Win" said Dew.
A lump grew in B's throat. W didn't do well with alcohol
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"Help me make sense of this, Dew" pleaded B. If anyone knew W inside and out, it was Dew.
"What can I say, Bright. I've never seen him in love. This is a first for me too."
"But why now? Why me?"
"Remember that time you met him in front of your faculty building?" said Dew
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It was over six months ago. W was waiting for him on the last day of exams. They'd gone for coffee together.
The day after, B had baked him cookies for the first time as a joint celebration for B getting top marks in the mid-terms and W being voted the tournament MVP.
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"Did you know he mentioned you in his MVP Award acceptance speech that evening? He said he learned the value of hard work and dedication from someone he'd grown to admire and adore.
And he still has one of the cookies you baked him the next day. That's how big a sap he is"
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B's head throbbed.
"He was probably talking about Love. They were dating back then" said B, a tad bitterly.
He'd refused to fuck W while he was with Love, but W would still turn up at B's with coffee and doughnuts and stay up all night playing video games while B studied.
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"Don't tell me you didn't know they're cousins. She was dating me back then. It didn't last, sadly.
And Win hasn't dated anyone since he met you. He didn't want to risk missing any dates on your timetable. He said your arrangement meant more to you than dating did to him"
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"B-but.." sputtered B. W hadn't bothered to correct B's assumptions.
"He thought you were starting to use him as a crutch instead of believing in yourself. But he didn't want to leave you alone either"
B hadn't known that. W always made it seem like he was the one who needed B
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B went numb. This was all too much. He needed time to process it all.
B had only wanted sex. Because love - to be that vulnerable, to expose himself, open up his heart - that wasn't for B. He'd done it all and been hurt before. Badly.
Bullied. Controlled. Cheated on.
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B had thought W was on the same page as him. But they were not even reading the same book anymore.
"He never shared his bad days with me, Dew. You don't do that if you love someone. You give them everything, not just your smiles" said B miserably
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And just like that, W's eyes swam before B, puffy and red-rimmed, as though he'd been crying. He'd said nothing, just buried his face in B's neck and hugged him tight.
W didn't tell and B didn't ask. They didn't fuck that night, just lay together, with B holding W close.
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B had sung softly till W fell asleep, exhausted by his misery. And B had studied with W's head on his lap, stroking W's hair gently as he calculated the speed at which the universe, his universe, was expanding.
B had aced his test the next day. That was nearly four months ago.
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"You were the only one he saw the day his dog died, Bright. He'd been so miserable all week leading up to the day the vet put her down, but you had lab."
B felt irrationally angry that W hadn't called him even once that week. That he'd suffered through the pain all by himself.
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"I don't know, Dew. I don't know if I can give him what he wants" whispered B.
"You already are. If you think carefully, you'll know" said Dew.
B ran and ran, his body racing to keep up with his mind. B had been nothing but distant and impersonal. What did W expect now?
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Fragments of thought flitted through his mind.
Cookies that he'd begun baking every week because W loved them so much.
Or giving W his carrot plushie to cuddle. The pillow made its way back and forth between their rooms all the time. B liked how it smelled like W now.
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Or how he'd suddenly find W's sweatshirt in his wardrobe and wear it as though it was the most natural thing to do. Or see W in his jacket and think how it looked better on W than on himself.
Now that B thought about it, they'd done a whole lot outside of just fucking
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When did the weekly hook-ups become walks after dinner, afternoon coffees and daily check-ins? When did the sex become more intimate, more meaningful, more comforting than simply the stress busting fucks they were meant to be?
B didn't know when. There was a lot he didn't know
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B had seen more basketball the last year than he'd done his entire life.
And W was practically a pro at Relativity, having helped B type up his reports more than once.
B had described his dream house one time and W had built a model of it that was better than B had ever imagined
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He knew far more about W than he should have.
Like how W wanted to be an architect but was studying business instead.
Or how he was afraid of fishes but loved his dogs.
Or how his alcohol tolerance was pathetically low and he sang loudly and horribly off-key when drunk.
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Because they'd talked about their ambitions. They'd gone water-skiing once. And B had gone to a club for the first time in his life with W, and watched W make a fool of himself after just two shots. B had carried W back to his room and thought how cute and babyish he looked.
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B didn't know how he landed up staring at W's door. Sweating and heaving from running, mind still in a turmoil, words still unformed.
The person on the other side was suddenly a stranger, and still the most intimately familiar presence in his life.
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B's body moved on its own when the door opened. He held W's face in his hands and kissed him with every fibre of his being. Their lips melted against each other's. B kicked the door closed behind him without breaking the kiss. W moaned softly and B felt it thrum through his body
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W lifted B on to his table. B wrapped his legs around W's waist and his arms around his neck. W's hand ran over B's back and into his hair, his other one holding B's chin gently as he took control of the kiss.
They parted after an eternity, and looked at each other warily.
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"You look like shit, Metawin" said B. W chuckled humourlessly.
"Don't know if you know this, but I was rejected recently by the boy I love. I'm clearly taking it very, very well" he huffed.
"It's all the things I didn't know that have brought me here today" said B.
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W was too scared to even breathe. He didn't know if he would survive B's explanation of why he didn't love W back.
B caressed W's tear streaked cheeks and kissed him again, softly.
"I thought I knew what I wanted from you. I didn't know how much more you gave me, Metawin"
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B's lower lip trembled and his voice hitched. His grip on W's neck tightened and his fingers went cold.
"I'm scared, Metawin. I've been down this road before and it didn't end very well for me. I'm damaged goods. You can do so much better than me" he whispered.
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"You're easy, I'm difficult. You're effortless, I take work. You might get tired of me, I'm an asshole" continued B.
"It takes sunshine and rain to make a rainbow. I love you for who you are, Vachi, and not for who you think you should be" said W gently.
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W hugged B tightly, sighing as B pulled him even closer.
"You're so amazing, Vachi. I wish you'd see what I see - this beautiful, sexy, intelligent, capable boy who's also sensitive and sweet and cute and funny and caring. You inspire me to be better, do better."
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"I don't know who you're talking about. I'm not him. I'm selfish and cold and rude and grumpy. But if you still want me, I'm yours" said B shyly, looking up at W.
W kissed his face all over. "Yes, yes, yes I still want you. I'll always want you, baby."
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B looked into W's eyes, swollen from crying. He kissed them lightly. "I'm sorry I made you cry, my love."
W felt like he'd die of happiness. "What did you just call me?"
"I love you, Win. It's the only thing I know with certainty."
W smiled, ecstatic. "I love you too"