Keenan sat at his desk in their dorm room. Tucker had gone to class. Keenan was trying to study. Unable to focus on the book which lay open on the desk in front of him, he gave in to the memories of the past weekend that kept intruding on his efforts—memories which were making concentration impossible.
He got up, and poured himself his third cup of coffee. He walked to the window, leaned against the wall, and stared out into the dormitory courtyard. Yesterday, the day after the frat party, he’d awoken with Tucker’s arms around him, his head on Tucker’s chest. He’d lain there, thoroughly enjoying the warmth of Tucker’s body next to his. Recalling what had happened between them the night before, he began to get hard.
When Tucker stirred and opened his eyes, Keenan raised up and wished Tuck
