Love, Hypothetically[Theta Alpha Gamma 02 ] Read Online Free Page A

Paul’s neck. “How about you go first?” he murmured in Paul’s ear. “Then I’ll take care of you, baby.”
Dammitall, here they were again. But before Paul could say anything like, “I’m not falling for that anymore,” Trevor pulled back a few inches from him, took Paul’s shoulders in his hands, and held him still, looking into his eyes. They hung there a moment, neither really doing anything except, well, communing. This was how Paul knew Trevor was his only, because they could speak without words sometimes.
Trevor took a small nervous breath and held it, and Paul knew with absolute certainty that he really meant it this time. And thank God, because Paul needed it. Not because he needed it—although it would be fucking awesome to be brought to orgasm in someone’s mouth someday, preferably Trevor’s—but because he had to have this to keep the faith. Baby steps. Someday Trevor would be out and with him and only him. A blowjob would be a small step in that direction.
Paul smiled, going for a come-hither look but not really caring if he hit it; he just felt like smiling at his boyfriend. “So . . .” he swirled a finger around one of Trevor’s nipples. “You want me to suck your cock?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, you faggot!”
Paul nearly fainted, the blood drained out of his head so fast. Trevor’s face paled just as quickly, and Trevor swayed slightly, held up only by his grip on Paul’s shoulders. Paul closed his eyes a second to gather strength, then leaned sideways far enough to see behind Trevor.
Calvin Zelinski stood there, mouth open in horrified disgust.
“How did you get in here?” Paul asked numbly.
“The custodian let me in. Did you seriously just ask him if you could suck his dick?”
A quick glance told Paul the organ in question was as flaccid as a rubber chicken. A few seconds before, it had been hard as a drumstick. Dammitall. Now that he was over his initial shock, he felt strangely pragmatic. Like he’d been waiting for this—for Trevor to be pried out of his closet.
He might get to be Trevor’s one and only a little ahead of schedule.
“Uh, dude . . .” Trevor said weakly, then seemed to give up.
“It’s all right, man,” Calvin said, puffing out his chest.
It was?
“I heard him, and now that I’m here, he can’t do anything to you.”
Paul froze. He felt Trevor’s fingers tighten convulsively on his shoulders.
“What?” Trevor croaked, staring at Paul but talking to Calvin.
“It’s okay, man, I’m here. I got your back.”
Calvin Zelinski was a fucking moron. As if Trevor couldn’t handle Paul all on his own? He was three inches taller and a few dozen pounds heavier.
Paul’s attention turned back to Trevor when he felt him sway again, just barely. He looked up and saw the realization in Trevor’s face: they hadn’t been caught and exposed as fags, only Paul had.
He wouldn’t do that to me.
Would he?
He did. “It’s okay, Cal. I had it under control, but thanks for the assist, dude. He’s harmless, it’s just a little, uh, crush.” He let go of Paul’s shoulders, peeled his fingers off one by one and stepped back until several feet separated them. It was another one of those moments where they communicated only with their eyes, but it left Paul wishing they didn’t have that ability. “He’s been after me for a while,” Trevor added, begging silently for Paul to play along.
Ah, yes, there was the panic he hadn’t felt earlier—racing heart, cotton mouth, blood pooling in his torso, trembling limbs. Was this happening? He tried a pleading look on Tre vor.
All the expression bled from Trevor’s face, and his eyes went flat, almost like he’d died—for Paul at least. “You know how it is, dude. It’s the super-jock star power—works on chicks and gay boys.” He gave Paul one more opaque look before turning to face Calvin.
Calvin laughed and slapped Trevor’s hand when he lifted it for a high five.
“Trevor?”
Trevor didn’t quite turn back