Page 82 of Freshman

Alfie spent his afternoons with his phone on his chest, waiting for Nate’s call. It wasn’t every day, but Nate texted in advance so he’d be ready. Alfie told himself it was more acceptable than opening the hatch, that he and Nate weren’t being physical.

It was wrong.

It shouldn’t have been happening.

But it was not the biggest breach Alfie had made.

And that, in his lust-driven brain, made it all right.

“Freshman,” Nate said in his ear, and Alfie shivered, dropping his head back to the pillow. He didn’t know what phone Nate had, but it wasn’t capable of video calling. It was always Nate’s voice as they got caught up in sexual fantasies.

Alfie’s favourite was Nate between his legs, between his cheeks, sucking and nibbling. When he’d admitted he’d never experienced someone pleasuring him that way, Nate had released a long-suffering groan down the phone and replied he’d eat Alfie’s arse out for days. It wasn’t just the act they excited each other with, it was the location, the atmosphere.

And the one Alfie returned to again and again was the snow-covered cabin in the wilderness. It would be quiet, all except the crackle of the wood fire, and Alfie would be naked, spread beneath Nate on some fur rug.

Alfie would be folded, legs pinned and exposed, while Nate used his tongue and teeth on his hole.

Nate loved the fantasy too, but he added his own unique quirks to it. Alfie would have his wrists bound with rope, and he wouldn’t be on his back, he’d be on his front with his knees beneath him. Nate would push down on the top of Alfie’s back, tipping him forward, exposing him for his eager mouth. He wouldn’t stop until Alfie was ready for his cock, then sink it in, making Alfie explode over the rug.

“Fuck,” Alfie groaned.

“You like that, Freshman?”

Nate’s commanding voice triggered Alfie’s orgasm, and just the whispered word Freshman was enough to get him hard again.

In the post-orgasm glow, Nate added another layer of domesticity to the fantasy. He told Alfie he’d run him a bath and clean him. He said he’d feed him from his fingers and let Alfie sprawl over his lap while they watched TV. They’d go for walks in the woods, and hire snowmobiles, and make snow angels.

Nate’s voice calmed him after orgasm, and no doubt or shame had time to surface.

Alfie didn’t panic and hang up like the first time. He let the images Nate created seep into his mind, closed his eyes, and lived them a little.

They didn’t just talk about sex. Nate would ask what Alfie was watching on TV, or what music he liked, or what kind of clothes he wore outside of work. He asked about Alfie growing up in care and didn’t patronise or mock. When Alfie asked Nate questions about his childhood, he shut down. Nate’s voice grew colder, and he hung up the phone. He didn’t want to be known by Alfie, and it stung like a rejection.

There was a knock at the front door, and Alfie removed his phone from his chest and peeked through the curtains. Not the green delivery van or the red pizza scooter. The man standing on the doorstep was dressed in a black parka and well-fitted trousers. His hair was perfectly tousled, and his lips were bunched in a pout. The man cradled a package to his chest, one that Alfie hadn’t bought.

Alfie opened the door and shot the man a smile. “Hi…”

“For you.”

Alfie took the package, frowning at the clothing label. Martin Sheer. He wouldn’t even walk into their shop in case they looked at his scruffy appearance and shooed him out.

The man forced a cough and held his phone out for Alfie to sign.

Alfie took the gift into the living room and shredded the tough plastic. He lifted the charcoal coat and widened his eyes when he registered the weight. It was thick and lined, and when he slipped it on, it fit him perfectly. The gold buttons on the cuff gleamed, and the stitching was exact.

Alfie slipped his hand inside the pocket and pulled out a yellow post-it.

Wrap up tight, Freshman

Alfie breathed in the scent of expense and relished in the warm glow of someone caring about him. They had spoken about the drop in temperature, and Nate had been interested in what Alfie wore to combat the chill. He had assumed it was some horny fantasy for Nate. The idea of unwrapping layers to get to Alfie’s skin, but the reality was he was worried that Alfie’s paper-thin coat wouldn’t be enough to keep him comfortable.

Alfie collapsed onto the sofa, flashing a look at the clock. It was two, another hour until Nate was due to call.

Alfie wrapped the coat around his back and lay on the sofa with his phone on his chest.

“Do you like it?” Nate asked when he called later on.

Alfie hadn’t taken it off. He was sweating but didn’t care. “Yeah, course I do, but you can’t keep sending stuff to my door.”

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