Free Wrestling With Desire by D.H. Starr Page B

the couple on the blanket, and other times it came to him for no reason at all. Each time it did, Derek had to work harder and harder to 74

    Wrestling With Desire
    by D.H. Starr
    push the image away. Looking at this couple by the bank, so casually showing their affection, no thoughts or worries...it burned inside Derek like a fire. A fire that angered him and left him feeling hollow. How many times had he wanted to kiss Scott? How badly did he wish that the couple he was watching could be the two of them?
    Tension crept into him. His breathing became labored, and a stitch began to form in his side. Concentrating on his breathing, he began the slow process of reclaiming control of his body. It always started with breathing. Measured breaths, in and out. Then, he focused on the rhythm of his feet hitting the ground. He imagined that his legs were driven by pistons, pushing him forward at a steady pace. His arms pumped, propelling him even faster and helping his body flow harmoniously. He concentrated on his running, his body, the mechanics. It always worked to calm him and slowly he felt the stitch dissipate and his tension subside.
    When Derek looked around to get his bearings on where he was, he was surprised to find that he had already passed the last bridge and only had a few hundred yards left for his run. He slowed his pace to begin his warm-down process and ended up crossing the street to the school at a slow jog. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and salty drops began to trickle down the back of his shirt, tickling his spine as they rolled over the sensitive skin. Sitting on one of the benches which lined the walkway to the main entrance, he dropped his head into the palms of his hands. Man that was a good run.
    "Hey, earth to Derek. You ok?" Derek looked up to see Scott standing over him. He had been so focused on his run 75

    Wrestling With Desire
    by D.H. Starr
    that he hadn't been paying attention to anything else. Scott walked over and sat down on the bench next to him. "I was just saying that you look like you just had a good run."
    Derek looked at Scott. " You said that? I thought..." Derek stopped when he saw the confused look on Scott's face. "I mean, I was just thinking the same thing. It was a good run."
    What the fuck? Now we are thinking the same things at the same time?
    Scott was still looking at him with concern. "You sure you're ok? You're acting kind of weird."
    "Yeah, I'm fine," Derek said, wiping his forehead with the base of his shirt, exposing his abdomen and chest. "I just pushed myself really hard today. Don't know why. I just need a few minutes for my brain to start working again." Derek finished wiping his face then dropped his shirt and looked up at Scott. Scott's eyes darted up to meet his and Derek could swear he saw a flush in Scott's cheeks which hadn't been there before. Was he checking me out?
    "Uh, wow...yeah. Working brains are good." Scott was fumbling for words.
    Derek tilted his head and stared at him. "Deep."
    Scott laughed, giving Derek a playful shove. "Hey, before I forget, the guys wanted me to tell you that they're planning a party for this weekend and they wanted to know if you could DJ for it." He looked at his hand, and then wiped it on his pants. "You are so totally gross."
    Scott seemed to have returned to his normal, literate self and was clearly forming sentences which consisted of a subject and predicate. Derek turned his head slowly to face 76

    Wrestling With Desire
    by D.H. Starr
    him and summoned his driest, most sarcastic voice. "You were telling me about some party?"
    Scott's eyes lit up, remembering his original train of thought. "Oh yeah. They said you should record a mix ahead of time since you always miss out on the party itself when you DJ live."
    "I actually prefer to do the parties live. People come and hang out with me, so it's not like I'm bored or anything, and I can control the music to fit the mood of the party." Derek knew this wasn't the real