Chapter 3
Eric rushed home after his last class of the day to prepare for his talk with Jack. He paced the apartment trying to work out the details in his mind; how and where he was going to confess the deep feelings he harbored for Jack.
"The living room? …nah, the bedroom? …too weird for Jack if he doesn't take it well," Eric mumbled to himself. "Got it! This is too easy!" Eric walked into the kitchen and started on dinner.
Jack tossed his black backpack into the back seat of his car, exhaling loudly as he slid behind the wheel. He sat there a moment, thinking intently.
Jack looked into the mirror, "We just don't have enough in common and I'm not in love with you. I don't want to hurt you or continue this relationship… oh who am I kiddin', she's gonna hate me."
Jack noticed Rachel approaching the car. She opened the door and hopped in.
"Hey, Jack, where we goin'?"
"I dunno, where do you wanna go?" Jack looked at her with disinterest.
Rachel smiled innocently and grabbed Jack's hand, "I'm hungry, let's go to dinner somewhere."
Jack dropped her hand to put the key in the ignition and start the car. "Where to?"
Rachel reclined the passenger-side seat and sighed heavily, "Oooooooh, how about Japanese!"
"That'll work." Jack pulled away from the curb.
Eric sat on the couch watching television, wondering why Jack hadn't called or come home yet. He stood up and started walking toward the bedroom, glumly eyeing the untouched meal sitting on the stove in the kitchen that he'd prepared only hours ago.
He slipped his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants. As he stepped out of his jeans, he grabbed a pair of his flannel scrub bottoms and put them on. Eric fought the sinking feeling that Cory or Topanga might have spoken to Jack. He pushed the thought out of his mind and climbed into bed. He closed his eyes as he pulled the cool covers over his warm, exposed skin. He hoped that he would relive the dream he had dreamt last night. He concentrated on what he could remember about the dream, which quickly aroused him.
Suddenly, a devious thought entered his mind that he didn't dismiss as quickly as he thought he should have. He felt a strong and erotic compulsion to act. Hesitantly, Eric got out of bed and walked to the living room, double-checking that the front door was locked. He went back into the bedroom and grabbed the bottle of lotion that Rachel had left on the sink. He walked over to Jack's bed and stood for a moment, listening. Shaking slightly, he pulled the covers back on Jack's neatly made bed. Eric crawled in bed, exploring the mattress with his feet and hands. He pulled Jack's pillow to his face and breathed deeply. "He smells good. He always smells so good."
Eric pumped the lotion into his hand, his heart racing in his chest. He was so nervous and so aroused, feeling a twinge of guilt in the back of his mind. He lay there, frozen for another moment, listening. With his free hand, Eric caressed his shoulder, slowly rubbing around his arm then across to his chest. He ran his fingertips across his right nipple and then traced the outline of his pecs. Finally he moved his hand down further, groping every part of his taut abs. Thoughts of Jack raced through his mind: Jack walking around in a towel, he and Jack wrestling for the remote, Jack sitting on the couch eating cereal in just his boxers…
A few moments later, Eric let out a deep sigh of gratification, a shudder rippled throughout his entire body. He jumped up out of Jack's bed and hastily headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later, wearing a fresh pair of boxers, he returned to Jack's bedside to remake it, stopping to smell Jack's pillow one last time. Now that the moment had gone, he felt extremely guilty and a bit exhausted as well. After he put everything back the way he found it, he fell into his own bed and sleep quickly overtook him.
Jack woke with a stomachache. He sat up slowly and saw Eric still sleeping soundly across the room from him. Jack stood up, suddenly wishing he hadn't as his stomach roiled. He groaned and held his belly with one hand. "Must've been that sushi, ugh," he mumbled.
Wearing only a pair of his red boxer-briefs and still clutching his stomach, he quietly shuffled into the living room and sat down on the couch wondering if it was really the food or breaking up with Rachel that made him feel so ill. He remembered the mortified look on her face… and she wouldn't stop crying.
"It's for the best," he told himself as he stretched out on the couch, one leg on and one leg off. He grabbed the remote and prayed that his nausea would let up. The volume was still pretty loud, as Eric had left it last night while waiting for Jack to come home for supper. Jack fumbled with the remote to soften the volume, but it still woke Eric with a start.
Eric sat straight up and looked around. He saw Jack's bed, looking slept in and disheveled. For a brief moment, he panicked, thinking he'd left the bed like that the night before. He realized that it was the TV that had disturbed him so he hopped out of bed and grabbed a t-shirt lying on his side of the bedroom floor and put it on. He nimbly scampered into the living room to find Jack sprawled out on the couch, watching TV.
For a moment, Eric just stood and stared at Jack. He was mesmorized by how good Jack looked lying there casually.
"Hey, buddy. Didn't hear you come home last night."
"Yeah, Rachel and I had dinner together last night. We had a long talk too," Jack's eyes didn't leave the TV as he spoke. Eric looked at him intently.
"So, remember how I wanted to talk to you yesterday? I thought now would be a good time if you're not about to rush off anywhere…"
"No, no, now's fine, what's up?"
Eric's heart started up again and he felt a sudden surge of reluctance. Was he really ready to talk about this with Jack? What if he isn't interested? What if he is? What if…
"…soooo, is it something to do with why you've been acting so funky lately?"
Eric walked over to where Jack was lying, pausing only long enough for Jack to drop his other leg and sit up.
"Ummm, yeah, actually. It has everything to do with it." Eric sat down next to him.
"Well, I'd love to hear it. Seems to be the weekend of confessions," Jack sighed, more from the pangs of guilt and nausea than anything else. He finally looked Eric in the eye as he turned the TV off.
"Well…" Eric shifted a little nervously and dropped his eyes. "I have to tell you something that you might not want to hear, or maybe you've always wanted to hear… no wait, that's stupid. I mean… I have to tell you how I feel about things."
Jack leaned back against the couch as another urge to vomit slowly subsided. [Great, is he going to move out or something? This is all I need. He better hurry this up, I'm not doing so hot here.]
"What things? What are you talking about? You mean the apartment?"
Eric began to feel lightheaded and a little out of breath. "Nothing like that… I should just come out and say it…" Eric felt more anxious than he ever had in his life. Jack never felt sicker in his life. Another wave of nausea came over him all at once.
"Jack, I'm in love with you." Eric waited, for what seemed like an eternity, for Jack to respond.
Jack, astonished, simply leaned forward and vomited on the floor, covering his and Eric's feet in a pool of bile. Jack managed to scramble to his feet and run to the bathroom to continue the convulsive purging that had gripped him.
Eric sat stunned. How could this have gone so horribly wrong? How could he have been so blind, so stupid? With tears in his eyes, Eric was still immobilized, hearing Jack's hurling and retching resound from the bedroom.
Finally, he glanced down at the floor, noticing the mess at his feet. Eric's stomach began a cycle of churning of its own. Eric stood up and went back into the bedroom. Jack was still expelling the contents of his gut when Eric stopped long enough to put on his shoes, pants and grab his keys. He snagged his jacket and slammed the door behind him.
"Wait!" Jack yelled weakly.
Eric rushed home after his last class of the day to prepare for his talk with Jack. He paced the apartment trying to work out the details in his mind; how and where he was going to confess the deep feelings he harbored for Jack.
"The living room? …nah, the bedroom? …too weird for Jack if he doesn't take it well," Eric mumbled to himself. "Got it! This is too easy!" Eric walked into the kitchen and started on dinner.
Jack tossed his black backpack into the back seat of his car, exhaling loudly as he slid behind the wheel. He sat there a moment, thinking intently.
Jack looked into the mirror, "We just don't have enough in common and I'm not in love with you. I don't want to hurt you or continue this relationship… oh who am I kiddin', she's gonna hate me."
Jack noticed Rachel approaching the car. She opened the door and hopped in.
"Hey, Jack, where we goin'?"
"I dunno, where do you wanna go?" Jack looked at her with disinterest.
Rachel smiled innocently and grabbed Jack's hand, "I'm hungry, let's go to dinner somewhere."
Jack dropped her hand to put the key in the ignition and start the car. "Where to?"
Rachel reclined the passenger-side seat and sighed heavily, "Oooooooh, how about Japanese!"
"That'll work." Jack pulled away from the curb.
Eric sat on the couch watching television, wondering why Jack hadn't called or come home yet. He stood up and started walking toward the bedroom, glumly eyeing the untouched meal sitting on the stove in the kitchen that he'd prepared only hours ago.
He slipped his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants. As he stepped out of his jeans, he grabbed a pair of his flannel scrub bottoms and put them on. Eric fought the sinking feeling that Cory or Topanga might have spoken to Jack. He pushed the thought out of his mind and climbed into bed. He closed his eyes as he pulled the cool covers over his warm, exposed skin. He hoped that he would relive the dream he had dreamt last night. He concentrated on what he could remember about the dream, which quickly aroused him.
Suddenly, a devious thought entered his mind that he didn't dismiss as quickly as he thought he should have. He felt a strong and erotic compulsion to act. Hesitantly, Eric got out of bed and walked to the living room, double-checking that the front door was locked. He went back into the bedroom and grabbed the bottle of lotion that Rachel had left on the sink. He walked over to Jack's bed and stood for a moment, listening. Shaking slightly, he pulled the covers back on Jack's neatly made bed. Eric crawled in bed, exploring the mattress with his feet and hands. He pulled Jack's pillow to his face and breathed deeply. "He smells good. He always smells so good."
Eric pumped the lotion into his hand, his heart racing in his chest. He was so nervous and so aroused, feeling a twinge of guilt in the back of his mind. He lay there, frozen for another moment, listening. With his free hand, Eric caressed his shoulder, slowly rubbing around his arm then across to his chest. He ran his fingertips across his right nipple and then traced the outline of his pecs. Finally he moved his hand down further, groping every part of his taut abs. Thoughts of Jack raced through his mind: Jack walking around in a towel, he and Jack wrestling for the remote, Jack sitting on the couch eating cereal in just his boxers…
A few moments later, Eric let out a deep sigh of gratification, a shudder rippled throughout his entire body. He jumped up out of Jack's bed and hastily headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later, wearing a fresh pair of boxers, he returned to Jack's bedside to remake it, stopping to smell Jack's pillow one last time. Now that the moment had gone, he felt extremely guilty and a bit exhausted as well. After he put everything back the way he found it, he fell into his own bed and sleep quickly overtook him.
Jack woke with a stomachache. He sat up slowly and saw Eric still sleeping soundly across the room from him. Jack stood up, suddenly wishing he hadn't as his stomach roiled. He groaned and held his belly with one hand. "Must've been that sushi, ugh," he mumbled.
Wearing only a pair of his red boxer-briefs and still clutching his stomach, he quietly shuffled into the living room and sat down on the couch wondering if it was really the food or breaking up with Rachel that made him feel so ill. He remembered the mortified look on her face… and she wouldn't stop crying.
"It's for the best," he told himself as he stretched out on the couch, one leg on and one leg off. He grabbed the remote and prayed that his nausea would let up. The volume was still pretty loud, as Eric had left it last night while waiting for Jack to come home for supper. Jack fumbled with the remote to soften the volume, but it still woke Eric with a start.
Eric sat straight up and looked around. He saw Jack's bed, looking slept in and disheveled. For a brief moment, he panicked, thinking he'd left the bed like that the night before. He realized that it was the TV that had disturbed him so he hopped out of bed and grabbed a t-shirt lying on his side of the bedroom floor and put it on. He nimbly scampered into the living room to find Jack sprawled out on the couch, watching TV.
For a moment, Eric just stood and stared at Jack. He was mesmorized by how good Jack looked lying there casually.
"Hey, buddy. Didn't hear you come home last night."
"Yeah, Rachel and I had dinner together last night. We had a long talk too," Jack's eyes didn't leave the TV as he spoke. Eric looked at him intently.
"So, remember how I wanted to talk to you yesterday? I thought now would be a good time if you're not about to rush off anywhere…"
"No, no, now's fine, what's up?"
Eric's heart started up again and he felt a sudden surge of reluctance. Was he really ready to talk about this with Jack? What if he isn't interested? What if he is? What if…
"…soooo, is it something to do with why you've been acting so funky lately?"
Eric walked over to where Jack was lying, pausing only long enough for Jack to drop his other leg and sit up.
"Ummm, yeah, actually. It has everything to do with it." Eric sat down next to him.
"Well, I'd love to hear it. Seems to be the weekend of confessions," Jack sighed, more from the pangs of guilt and nausea than anything else. He finally looked Eric in the eye as he turned the TV off.
"Well…" Eric shifted a little nervously and dropped his eyes. "I have to tell you something that you might not want to hear, or maybe you've always wanted to hear… no wait, that's stupid. I mean… I have to tell you how I feel about things."
Jack leaned back against the couch as another urge to vomit slowly subsided. [Great, is he going to move out or something? This is all I need. He better hurry this up, I'm not doing so hot here.]
"What things? What are you talking about? You mean the apartment?"
Eric began to feel lightheaded and a little out of breath. "Nothing like that… I should just come out and say it…" Eric felt more anxious than he ever had in his life. Jack never felt sicker in his life. Another wave of nausea came over him all at once.
"Jack, I'm in love with you." Eric waited, for what seemed like an eternity, for Jack to respond.
Jack, astonished, simply leaned forward and vomited on the floor, covering his and Eric's feet in a pool of bile. Jack managed to scramble to his feet and run to the bathroom to continue the convulsive purging that had gripped him.
Eric sat stunned. How could this have gone so horribly wrong? How could he have been so blind, so stupid? With tears in his eyes, Eric was still immobilized, hearing Jack's hurling and retching resound from the bedroom.
Finally, he glanced down at the floor, noticing the mess at his feet. Eric's stomach began a cycle of churning of its own. Eric stood up and went back into the bedroom. Jack was still expelling the contents of his gut when Eric stopped long enough to put on his shoes, pants and grab his keys. He snagged his jacket and slammed the door behind him.
"Wait!" Jack yelled weakly.