brief hesitation, and he released me. I took him by the
hand and led him down the darkened hall to the bathroom, careful not to
make too much noise. My parents’ room was upstairs, so there wasn’t
much of a chance of waking them, but there was always the possibility one
of them had gone to the kitchen for a drink of water, or escaped to the
couch to avoid the other’s snores. I closed the bathroom door silently
behind us before turning on the light.
37
Dirk Hunter
Adam leaned against the sink while I used the toilet. His arms were
wrapped around his chest, probably self-conscious of the bruises now that
the lights were on. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. He looked
sheepish standing there, and I almost laughed. It was like he had finally
woken up enough to feel embarrassed about not letting me out of his sight.
He peeked at me from the corner of his eye, saw me looking, and
immediately averted his eyes. When I went to wash my hands, I caught
him staring at me in the mirror, but if he noticed, he didn’t give any sign.
I led him back to my room. This time he took my hand, which I
thought was a little odd; he should already know the way back to my
room, even in the dark, and by now he had to be fully awake. But I didn’t
say anything. We crawled back into bed. I rolled over onto my side,
turning my back to him, expecting him to do the same. After all, he had to
feel a little awkward about all this, right? I certainly did. But he didn’t.
Instead, he wrapped his arms back around me, once again holding me to
him. Okay, now I started to feel a little bit weird about this whole thing.
For the first time, I thought that maybe this hadn’t been some middream teddy-bear grab. Maybe it had been deliberate, even the first time. But
why? Was he in that much need of comfort? And if so, should I be doing
something? I had no idea. What—hold him? Have him talk about his
feelings? Was there something he wanted from me?
A sinking feeling suddenly landed in my gut. What if this was all
some elaborate prank? It hardly seemed possible after all Adam and I had
gone through, the hours spent together, opening up. But then, I’d gone
through some pretty elaborate routines myself to make him look a fool.
What if he was doing the same to me? But if so, what was his endgame?
How was this supposed to play out? What was pretending to bare his soul
to me and holding me close at night supposed to accomplish? Unless….
Right then, Adam’s hand moved slightly across my chest. He
brushed my nipple lightly with his thumb. A jolt of electricity shot through
my spine at the contact. At first I was too stunned to think. Maybe it had
been accidental? But then, a moment later, he did it again. This time he
took a little more time, ran his thumb around my nipple, feeling it harden.
For a second I felt the tingling feeling of arousal.
But then I got mad. I was suddenly certain all of this was a trick,
some fucked-up, elaborate gaybaiting that would probably lead to him
38
After School Activities
humiliating me in front of the entire school. I spun around in the bed to
face him, to tell him off and stop this fiasco. A thousand and one mean
things to say rose within me, but all of them died on my tongue when I
saw his face.
The ambient glow of the electronics in my room glinted off his
tearstained cheeks. I had no idea how long he had been crying
silently, but his entire face was moist. The hand I had raised to push
him away from me instead found its way to his cheek. I brushed away
tears with my thumb. In his eyes I saw a confused tangle of emotions,
each one seeming to struggle for dominance.
“He said it was my fault Dad left. Said if I wasn’t the way I was,
Dad would still be there. Then he punched me, over and over.” Adam
started to sob, his words broken up by gasping breaths. “But doesn’t he
know how hard I’ve tried…? My whole life I’ve tried…. I’ve
hand and led him down the darkened hall to the bathroom, careful not to
make too much noise. My parents’ room was upstairs, so there wasn’t
much of a chance of waking them, but there was always the possibility one
of them had gone to the kitchen for a drink of water, or escaped to the
couch to avoid the other’s snores. I closed the bathroom door silently
behind us before turning on the light.
37
Dirk Hunter
Adam leaned against the sink while I used the toilet. His arms were
wrapped around his chest, probably self-conscious of the bruises now that
the lights were on. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. He looked
sheepish standing there, and I almost laughed. It was like he had finally
woken up enough to feel embarrassed about not letting me out of his sight.
He peeked at me from the corner of his eye, saw me looking, and
immediately averted his eyes. When I went to wash my hands, I caught
him staring at me in the mirror, but if he noticed, he didn’t give any sign.
I led him back to my room. This time he took my hand, which I
thought was a little odd; he should already know the way back to my
room, even in the dark, and by now he had to be fully awake. But I didn’t
say anything. We crawled back into bed. I rolled over onto my side,
turning my back to him, expecting him to do the same. After all, he had to
feel a little awkward about all this, right? I certainly did. But he didn’t.
Instead, he wrapped his arms back around me, once again holding me to
him. Okay, now I started to feel a little bit weird about this whole thing.
For the first time, I thought that maybe this hadn’t been some middream teddy-bear grab. Maybe it had been deliberate, even the first time. But
why? Was he in that much need of comfort? And if so, should I be doing
something? I had no idea. What—hold him? Have him talk about his
feelings? Was there something he wanted from me?
A sinking feeling suddenly landed in my gut. What if this was all
some elaborate prank? It hardly seemed possible after all Adam and I had
gone through, the hours spent together, opening up. But then, I’d gone
through some pretty elaborate routines myself to make him look a fool.
What if he was doing the same to me? But if so, what was his endgame?
How was this supposed to play out? What was pretending to bare his soul
to me and holding me close at night supposed to accomplish? Unless….
Right then, Adam’s hand moved slightly across my chest. He
brushed my nipple lightly with his thumb. A jolt of electricity shot through
my spine at the contact. At first I was too stunned to think. Maybe it had
been accidental? But then, a moment later, he did it again. This time he
took a little more time, ran his thumb around my nipple, feeling it harden.
For a second I felt the tingling feeling of arousal.
But then I got mad. I was suddenly certain all of this was a trick,
some fucked-up, elaborate gaybaiting that would probably lead to him
38
After School Activities
humiliating me in front of the entire school. I spun around in the bed to
face him, to tell him off and stop this fiasco. A thousand and one mean
things to say rose within me, but all of them died on my tongue when I
saw his face.
The ambient glow of the electronics in my room glinted off his
tearstained cheeks. I had no idea how long he had been crying
silently, but his entire face was moist. The hand I had raised to push
him away from me instead found its way to his cheek. I brushed away
tears with my thumb. In his eyes I saw a confused tangle of emotions,
each one seeming to struggle for dominance.
“He said it was my fault Dad left. Said if I wasn’t the way I was,
Dad would still be there. Then he punched me, over and over.” Adam
started to sob, his words broken up by gasping breaths. “But doesn’t he
know how hard I’ve tried…? My whole life I’ve tried…. I’ve
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