Len and Tree
The companion piece of sorts to the previous one, about Len losing his cherry. NWS.
Spring 1987
“Hey, listen,” Tree yelled, bopping to the beat. “So you asked a girl out and she said no. Happens to most guys in our dorm like three to five times a day. Seriously, lighten up.”
“It’s not that,” sighed Leonard. The tinny keyboards and Madonna’s screeching drowned his voice off completely, so Tree had to lean in close and read his lips. “I’m fine, really, you should enjoy the party.”
Spin the bottle crowd in the corner broke out into a loud cheer. Two girls leaned forward, stretching catlike on all fours, and gingerly lapped at each other’s mouths.
“I’m enjoying!” Tree protested, whooping and whistling with the rest of the room, waving his paper cup of stale beer. “Hey, we should join in too. Come on!”
He pulled on Leonard’s arm and bounced right back against sweater-covered bony chest when Leonard’s lanky body refused to budge.
“Sorry,” Leonard said, brushing drops of beer off Tree’s t-shirt. “It’s just not my thing.”
Sweet waves of layered smoke curled around their legs, settling down on the floor. A guy from Tree’s art history class was making out with some gorgeous black athlete on the couch, slowly sliding his hand under the hem of her denim skirt. In the corner the bottle stopped again, and two football players leaned into the circle, their bulky shoulders blocking all the view. Madonna insisted that she was just like a virgin, and Leonard’s green eyes looked vague and wandering behind the glasses, as if he was stumbling through a dark forest.
“What is your thing, Leonard Borden,” breathed Tree into the warmth between their faces, not expecting an answer.
Leonard blinked slowly, and closed his eyes.
His lips tasted of beer and salt from the cheap snacks, just like Tree’s own mouth. It was meant to be a joke, or maybe a friendly gesture. Something. There was some kind of cosmic sense to it, the same certain feeling that makes you choose the right shades and shapes when painting an abstraction. Leonard nipped at his lower lip softly, and inclined his head to let Tree get closer.
The beer finally collided with the weed in his bloodstream and flowed into his brain gently, softly, on a wave of pulsing mellow lust. Everything slowed down and narrowed to a single point - the slide of their mouths together, the beat of Leonard’s pulse skipping under his fingers, the thick hot line of Leonard’s boner against his hip. Tree licked shallowly into his mouth and felt rather than heard a low choked moan rolling from the back of Leonard’s throat, sending tingles to the tip of his tongue.
Leonard pulled away, and the party flowed back in, sped up like an old silent movie, catching up with them. Hollow canned thumps of the drum machine, someone’s shrill laughter, the shuffling of a dozen feet. Leonard licked his lips, quickly and discreetly, like a cat grooming itself.
“I should get going,” he said loudly enough to cut through the music. “I’ll see you later.”
Tree stayed and danced till the room heated up too much to be comfortable. Some guys tried rapping random bullshit over the vapid lyrics, and then a senior year anthropology freak led them into a tribal dance experience that was surprisingly heady. He left a couple of minutes later than he should have, to the sound of the first lightweight puking into the bowl of cheesy puffs.
The night was hotter than he wanted it to be. Warm air streaming up from the concrete didn’t let him cool down, kept his mind spinning and floating like he’d never left the crowded lounge. He thought about Leonard, alone in their room. Maybe he would still be up, waiting for him. Tree could see it so clearly - pearly white skin in the dry hot dimness, whites of his eyes glistening under the eyelashes, covers thrown away carelessly, falling down in pretty textured folds. He imagined sinking down onto his knees by Leonard’s bed, taking that thick length into his mouth, dragging his tongue over soft warm skin. Yeah.
Not very likely to happen, of course.
By the time he’d defeated the sticky lock and tiptoed inside, Leonard was asleep, sprawled face-down under the thin sheets. Tree hovered by his bed while he undressed, thinking of the pencil study he could make of this. The bumps of vertebrae on his nape, the sharp hollow of bicep meeting the bone, the delicate stretch of the closed eyelid. You could learn all there was to know about skeleton and muscles, and small miracles like that would still trip you up, every time.
When he woke up, the sun was high and Leonard was fully clothed, reading a book on top of the meticulously smoothed bedspread.
“Morning, fellow class-cutter,” Tree mumbled, crawling out of the bed.
“Oh, I went,” Leonard said, not looking up from the pages. “But it didn’t work out, so I’m back.”
“Hangover?”
“It’s getting better.”
He was still curled up in the same position when Tree came back from the showers and stumbled around the room, pondering the task of getting dressed. All the classes he hadn’t slept through were skippable, and eating solid food didn’t seem like a good idea just yet. He decided to take it easy and pulled a random artbook from under his bed.
A lot of people thought he had the dullest roommate on campus. Of course, Leonard had his moments of the exact opposite of dull when Tree really got on his nerves, but for the most part, sharing with him was bliss. They could spend whole days like this, in peace and quiet, hardly even talking.
“Tree,” said Leonard into the pleasant silence. “Do you remember the party last night?”
“I wasn’t that drunk.”
“No. Do you remember that we kissed?”
“Yeah,” Tree said, hitting light and non-committal pitch-perfectly.
“I think I liked it,” Leonard said seriously, thoughtfully, as if sharing a secret.
“Well, thanks and I’m glad for you. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Now I’m questioning my sexuality.”
“Oh, man. Look, that was just - have I told you what happened when the football team won the play-offs? If everyone who was at that party went into an existential crisis…”
“No, no, it’s a good thing. It would explain a lot.”
His glance flicked sideways to Tree, coming to rest on his naked chest. Tree squashed the silly impulse to put a shirt on and nonchalantly scratched his balls through the thin sweats.
“Would you mind helping me explore it more fully?” asked Leonard quietly.
Tree had always known that Leonard was beautiful, and it baffled him that everyone else seemed to be in the dark about it. It couldn’t be that hard to notice - shapeless clothes and cheap glasses could only hide so much. But there was more to it, more than long legs, seriously hot shoulders and the killer bone structure of his porcelain-pale face, or the potential for the wicked sort of sexy flickering around the edges of his smiles. What Tree found the most exciting about Leonard was his complete lack of awareness of his own body. It wasn’t even a prison of flesh or a vessel for his mind or anything stupid like that - just a spatial reference to tell Leonard where he was relative to other objects. It imbued his every movement with a strange sort of freedom, as if he were mostly invisible. And maybe, in a way, he was. But Tree could see him, and the insight it gave him was priceless.
It wasn’t like he could turn Leonard down anyway, even if he didn’t want him for some reason. He started this thing, and as a friend, he had to see him through. And if Leonard had to move on and embrace the sexual side of life - well, Tree wanted to be there to watch it happen.
“Sure, let’s,” he said, hoping the pause wasn’t too long.
He never saw Leonard move, just heard the book hit the floor and then his roomie was straddling his lap, heavy and, as always, somehow bigger than he looked even from the distance of one step. Dry, tense lips pressed hard against his mouth, almost forcing his jaws apart. He tried to roll with it for a minute or so, but Leonard was going to give him a split lip, or cut his tongue on Tree’s incisors if he carried on like this. He grabbed Leonard’s head and took over, holding him still, licking at him softly till he relaxed.
And then it was good, so good, teasing at Leonard’s tongue with his own, feeling him melt into it and match his every move eagerly. Tree loved kissing for kissing’s sake, without the urgency of sex-in-progress, just this - sweet, slow caresses, excitement rising and falling in gentle waves. He pulled Leonard closer and felt that nice big hardon against his stomach. He was hard too, trapped pleasantly under Leonard’s bony ass. He slid a hand over to stroke down his back under the t-shirt and pet him through the coarse denim of his jeans, and Leonard shivered and pulled back for air.
“Yes,” he muttered under shaky breaths. “Definitely gay.”
“Have you even made out with a girl yet?”
“No. And I don’t think I will now.”
“Oh, come on, even I know that’s bad science.”
Leonard laughed, shaking his head, and that - that was amazing. Subtle colour flowing into his face, half-drunken fluidity of motion; almost a stranger, really. A really hot stranger. Tree toppled them on the bed and pressed against him, full-length, relearning the familiar shapes of his body by touch now. Leonard’s hands were still light and almost hesitant on his back, but his kisses were getting hotter, deeper, hungrier.
Suddenly he winced and pushed Tree back, twisting uncomfortably on the bed and gasping for air.
“What?” Tree whispered, watching his face. Leonard looked a little unhinged now - like he’d never been this turned on before and didn’t quite know how to handle it.
“Do you want to take this any further?” Leonard asked. “Or…”
“I’m game to go all the way if you are.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
Tree could see how he would feel at a loss. At least with a girl there was always a pretty good idea which tab was going to go into which slot, unless you were in Sarah Moxon’s bed and she broke out her bag of toys.
“Well,” he offered, unzipping Leonard’s jeans. “I could suck you off.”
Leonard arched into the touch and growled something inarticulate. Tree wrapped his fingers around the thick, nice cock, swirled the precome around the head with a fingertip and leaned in, stroking it firmly around the root.
Leonard jerked, gasped and came over his fingers. Tree swallowed and sat back on his heels, trying to feel complimented instead of cheated.
“Damn,” said Leonard shakily, staring down on his cock with disdain.
It wouldn't be the first time a guy freaked out right after he got his rocks off, but Tree hadn't expected Leonard Borden to be the type.
“What now?” he said, not trying to hide his disappointment.
“I really wanted to try oral sex,” Len explained in a voice so tragic that Tree couldn’t even laugh.
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere till dinner,” he said instead.
“Oh, excellent,” said Leonard, brightening up instantly. “Just give me a minute or so. Ah, and you’re still…”
He brushed Tree’s erection with his fingertips, then peeled down the sweats and touched his naked skin, carefully, reverently.
“Is sixty-nine possible with two males?” he asked with avid interest.
“Sure, but don’t expect it to work all that well on the first try.”
Leonard nodded and checked his watch: “We still have several hours. Plenty of time to figure it out. Oh, by the way, I meant to ask - would you be interested in doing this again some time? I’ve never seen you bring home the same person twice, and I was wondering if it’s some kind of policy you have.”
“Not really. It just works out like that, mostly. But - well. We live together…”
“I know!” Leonard squeezed his cock and dropped his voice to enticing murmur. “Just think about it: it would be so convenient.”
“You know, it’s good that you’re gay. You’d never score any pussy with seduction techniques like that.”
Leonard chuckled, sat up and started stripping.
“Right, you have to promise me you’ll use condoms with everyone else,” Tree said firmly. “And if you slip up, tell me right away, okay?”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need anyone else.”
Now that was slightly worrying. Tree twitched, replaying the whole thing in his head. Did he give him the impression - shit, last thing he wanted was to have to break his roommate’s virgin heart. And having to transfer rooms came close second.
“Dude, listen…” he started cautiously.
“Well, you mostly have sex on weekends, don’t you? All your weeknights are free, not even mentioning the mornings. That’s more than enough, I’d imagine. Tree, I think you’ll be more comfortable if you take your pants off completely.”
Tree shrugged and yielded to the power of logic.
Spring 1987
“Hey, listen,” Tree yelled, bopping to the beat. “So you asked a girl out and she said no. Happens to most guys in our dorm like three to five times a day. Seriously, lighten up.”
“It’s not that,” sighed Leonard. The tinny keyboards and Madonna’s screeching drowned his voice off completely, so Tree had to lean in close and read his lips. “I’m fine, really, you should enjoy the party.”
Spin the bottle crowd in the corner broke out into a loud cheer. Two girls leaned forward, stretching catlike on all fours, and gingerly lapped at each other’s mouths.
“I’m enjoying!” Tree protested, whooping and whistling with the rest of the room, waving his paper cup of stale beer. “Hey, we should join in too. Come on!”
He pulled on Leonard’s arm and bounced right back against sweater-covered bony chest when Leonard’s lanky body refused to budge.
“Sorry,” Leonard said, brushing drops of beer off Tree’s t-shirt. “It’s just not my thing.”
Sweet waves of layered smoke curled around their legs, settling down on the floor. A guy from Tree’s art history class was making out with some gorgeous black athlete on the couch, slowly sliding his hand under the hem of her denim skirt. In the corner the bottle stopped again, and two football players leaned into the circle, their bulky shoulders blocking all the view. Madonna insisted that she was just like a virgin, and Leonard’s green eyes looked vague and wandering behind the glasses, as if he was stumbling through a dark forest.
“What is your thing, Leonard Borden,” breathed Tree into the warmth between their faces, not expecting an answer.
Leonard blinked slowly, and closed his eyes.
His lips tasted of beer and salt from the cheap snacks, just like Tree’s own mouth. It was meant to be a joke, or maybe a friendly gesture. Something. There was some kind of cosmic sense to it, the same certain feeling that makes you choose the right shades and shapes when painting an abstraction. Leonard nipped at his lower lip softly, and inclined his head to let Tree get closer.
The beer finally collided with the weed in his bloodstream and flowed into his brain gently, softly, on a wave of pulsing mellow lust. Everything slowed down and narrowed to a single point - the slide of their mouths together, the beat of Leonard’s pulse skipping under his fingers, the thick hot line of Leonard’s boner against his hip. Tree licked shallowly into his mouth and felt rather than heard a low choked moan rolling from the back of Leonard’s throat, sending tingles to the tip of his tongue.
Leonard pulled away, and the party flowed back in, sped up like an old silent movie, catching up with them. Hollow canned thumps of the drum machine, someone’s shrill laughter, the shuffling of a dozen feet. Leonard licked his lips, quickly and discreetly, like a cat grooming itself.
“I should get going,” he said loudly enough to cut through the music. “I’ll see you later.”
Tree stayed and danced till the room heated up too much to be comfortable. Some guys tried rapping random bullshit over the vapid lyrics, and then a senior year anthropology freak led them into a tribal dance experience that was surprisingly heady. He left a couple of minutes later than he should have, to the sound of the first lightweight puking into the bowl of cheesy puffs.
The night was hotter than he wanted it to be. Warm air streaming up from the concrete didn’t let him cool down, kept his mind spinning and floating like he’d never left the crowded lounge. He thought about Leonard, alone in their room. Maybe he would still be up, waiting for him. Tree could see it so clearly - pearly white skin in the dry hot dimness, whites of his eyes glistening under the eyelashes, covers thrown away carelessly, falling down in pretty textured folds. He imagined sinking down onto his knees by Leonard’s bed, taking that thick length into his mouth, dragging his tongue over soft warm skin. Yeah.
Not very likely to happen, of course.
By the time he’d defeated the sticky lock and tiptoed inside, Leonard was asleep, sprawled face-down under the thin sheets. Tree hovered by his bed while he undressed, thinking of the pencil study he could make of this. The bumps of vertebrae on his nape, the sharp hollow of bicep meeting the bone, the delicate stretch of the closed eyelid. You could learn all there was to know about skeleton and muscles, and small miracles like that would still trip you up, every time.
When he woke up, the sun was high and Leonard was fully clothed, reading a book on top of the meticulously smoothed bedspread.
“Morning, fellow class-cutter,” Tree mumbled, crawling out of the bed.
“Oh, I went,” Leonard said, not looking up from the pages. “But it didn’t work out, so I’m back.”
“Hangover?”
“It’s getting better.”
He was still curled up in the same position when Tree came back from the showers and stumbled around the room, pondering the task of getting dressed. All the classes he hadn’t slept through were skippable, and eating solid food didn’t seem like a good idea just yet. He decided to take it easy and pulled a random artbook from under his bed.
A lot of people thought he had the dullest roommate on campus. Of course, Leonard had his moments of the exact opposite of dull when Tree really got on his nerves, but for the most part, sharing with him was bliss. They could spend whole days like this, in peace and quiet, hardly even talking.
“Tree,” said Leonard into the pleasant silence. “Do you remember the party last night?”
“I wasn’t that drunk.”
“No. Do you remember that we kissed?”
“Yeah,” Tree said, hitting light and non-committal pitch-perfectly.
“I think I liked it,” Leonard said seriously, thoughtfully, as if sharing a secret.
“Well, thanks and I’m glad for you. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Now I’m questioning my sexuality.”
“Oh, man. Look, that was just - have I told you what happened when the football team won the play-offs? If everyone who was at that party went into an existential crisis…”
“No, no, it’s a good thing. It would explain a lot.”
His glance flicked sideways to Tree, coming to rest on his naked chest. Tree squashed the silly impulse to put a shirt on and nonchalantly scratched his balls through the thin sweats.
“Would you mind helping me explore it more fully?” asked Leonard quietly.
Tree had always known that Leonard was beautiful, and it baffled him that everyone else seemed to be in the dark about it. It couldn’t be that hard to notice - shapeless clothes and cheap glasses could only hide so much. But there was more to it, more than long legs, seriously hot shoulders and the killer bone structure of his porcelain-pale face, or the potential for the wicked sort of sexy flickering around the edges of his smiles. What Tree found the most exciting about Leonard was his complete lack of awareness of his own body. It wasn’t even a prison of flesh or a vessel for his mind or anything stupid like that - just a spatial reference to tell Leonard where he was relative to other objects. It imbued his every movement with a strange sort of freedom, as if he were mostly invisible. And maybe, in a way, he was. But Tree could see him, and the insight it gave him was priceless.
It wasn’t like he could turn Leonard down anyway, even if he didn’t want him for some reason. He started this thing, and as a friend, he had to see him through. And if Leonard had to move on and embrace the sexual side of life - well, Tree wanted to be there to watch it happen.
“Sure, let’s,” he said, hoping the pause wasn’t too long.
He never saw Leonard move, just heard the book hit the floor and then his roomie was straddling his lap, heavy and, as always, somehow bigger than he looked even from the distance of one step. Dry, tense lips pressed hard against his mouth, almost forcing his jaws apart. He tried to roll with it for a minute or so, but Leonard was going to give him a split lip, or cut his tongue on Tree’s incisors if he carried on like this. He grabbed Leonard’s head and took over, holding him still, licking at him softly till he relaxed.
And then it was good, so good, teasing at Leonard’s tongue with his own, feeling him melt into it and match his every move eagerly. Tree loved kissing for kissing’s sake, without the urgency of sex-in-progress, just this - sweet, slow caresses, excitement rising and falling in gentle waves. He pulled Leonard closer and felt that nice big hardon against his stomach. He was hard too, trapped pleasantly under Leonard’s bony ass. He slid a hand over to stroke down his back under the t-shirt and pet him through the coarse denim of his jeans, and Leonard shivered and pulled back for air.
“Yes,” he muttered under shaky breaths. “Definitely gay.”
“Have you even made out with a girl yet?”
“No. And I don’t think I will now.”
“Oh, come on, even I know that’s bad science.”
Leonard laughed, shaking his head, and that - that was amazing. Subtle colour flowing into his face, half-drunken fluidity of motion; almost a stranger, really. A really hot stranger. Tree toppled them on the bed and pressed against him, full-length, relearning the familiar shapes of his body by touch now. Leonard’s hands were still light and almost hesitant on his back, but his kisses were getting hotter, deeper, hungrier.
Suddenly he winced and pushed Tree back, twisting uncomfortably on the bed and gasping for air.
“What?” Tree whispered, watching his face. Leonard looked a little unhinged now - like he’d never been this turned on before and didn’t quite know how to handle it.
“Do you want to take this any further?” Leonard asked. “Or…”
“I’m game to go all the way if you are.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
Tree could see how he would feel at a loss. At least with a girl there was always a pretty good idea which tab was going to go into which slot, unless you were in Sarah Moxon’s bed and she broke out her bag of toys.
“Well,” he offered, unzipping Leonard’s jeans. “I could suck you off.”
Leonard arched into the touch and growled something inarticulate. Tree wrapped his fingers around the thick, nice cock, swirled the precome around the head with a fingertip and leaned in, stroking it firmly around the root.
Leonard jerked, gasped and came over his fingers. Tree swallowed and sat back on his heels, trying to feel complimented instead of cheated.
“Damn,” said Leonard shakily, staring down on his cock with disdain.
It wouldn't be the first time a guy freaked out right after he got his rocks off, but Tree hadn't expected Leonard Borden to be the type.
“What now?” he said, not trying to hide his disappointment.
“I really wanted to try oral sex,” Len explained in a voice so tragic that Tree couldn’t even laugh.
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere till dinner,” he said instead.
“Oh, excellent,” said Leonard, brightening up instantly. “Just give me a minute or so. Ah, and you’re still…”
He brushed Tree’s erection with his fingertips, then peeled down the sweats and touched his naked skin, carefully, reverently.
“Is sixty-nine possible with two males?” he asked with avid interest.
“Sure, but don’t expect it to work all that well on the first try.”
Leonard nodded and checked his watch: “We still have several hours. Plenty of time to figure it out. Oh, by the way, I meant to ask - would you be interested in doing this again some time? I’ve never seen you bring home the same person twice, and I was wondering if it’s some kind of policy you have.”
“Not really. It just works out like that, mostly. But - well. We live together…”
“I know!” Leonard squeezed his cock and dropped his voice to enticing murmur. “Just think about it: it would be so convenient.”
“You know, it’s good that you’re gay. You’d never score any pussy with seduction techniques like that.”
Leonard chuckled, sat up and started stripping.
“Right, you have to promise me you’ll use condoms with everyone else,” Tree said firmly. “And if you slip up, tell me right away, okay?”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need anyone else.”
Now that was slightly worrying. Tree twitched, replaying the whole thing in his head. Did he give him the impression - shit, last thing he wanted was to have to break his roommate’s virgin heart. And having to transfer rooms came close second.
“Dude, listen…” he started cautiously.
“Well, you mostly have sex on weekends, don’t you? All your weeknights are free, not even mentioning the mornings. That’s more than enough, I’d imagine. Tree, I think you’ll be more comfortable if you take your pants off completely.”
Tree shrugged and yielded to the power of logic.