Chapter 15

Tim blinked hard, the words tumbling from his lips before his brain caught them. The sentence echoed in his ears, sinking in a moment too late. His stomach lurched as panic clawed at the wine’s haze. He had said something out loud that he shouldn’t have, shattering all the effort he had made to keep the truth hidden. The destruction of it all had come from his own mouth. “Nooo…” Tim’s shoulders sagged as he whispered, feeling the weight of the fake breasts glued to his chest as defeat pressed in.

Then the strangest thing happened. Panic and stress had been raging in him constantly, but it didn’t build back up in a way he felt like he might explode or have a stroke, it didn’t come at all. As if the fear and anxiety had broken. In the fog of **** a heavy sort of calm stayed in him that he hadn’t really noticed had smothered his worries. Emily and Sarah already had him trapped, his earlier failure only echoed to now. Just like before he was close to succeeding, but could only really fair. Soon the sorority girls would go to the police, and when they did, he would be finished. Expelled, arrested, his life at school wrecked beyond repair. There was no salvaging it. Compared to that, what Jake thought or who he told hardly mattered at all. The secret was doomed to come out one way or another.

For a few slow heartbeats, the relief held. His shoulders eased. His jaw wasn’t clenched and he no longer had to **** a smile on his face. Even drunk, perhaps partially or fully because he was Tim felt a strange lightness of surrender. It was already over, so there was nothing left to lose.

That was when a sharper fear crept back in his mind. Not about what he would do after this, not what his father would say, it was a fear of what was about to happen in the moment. About Jake himself. A man that would even self describe himself as a jock, with Jake’s size, specifically his fists and the raw strength he could bring to bear and what he might do with it now that he knew he had been on a date, had kissed… Made out with another boy. Tim’s breath caught in his chest, thinking about the possible pounding he could receive. The relief bled away, turning into dread as he waited, half-braced, for the older boy’s smirk to twist into ****

Jake touched the pretty girl at his side, chuckling, her smirk not moving at all. “We can both agree on a girl’s choice of footwear and about your little feet looking hot, just like the rest of you. Though considering the girl I’m getting to know tonight, I don’t know about you ever being a tomboy. I picture you more as a shy girl who didn’t know until recently how beautiful she really is. Honestly, I hope you feel that inside.”

The words slid into Tim’s ears like warm honey. Instantly his cheeks heated before a hiccup escaped his lips, the sound small and humiliating. “Shy girl… I’m not… Beautiful…” he mumbled, drawing out words as he half repeated what Jake had just said but in a denial. His lips twisted into an uncertain smile. “I never really thought of myself like that and you keep saying… but you are just being nice. You are always being nice to me.” He thought of the offered bed in the frat house on the first day they met and all the kind words now, though none of his thoughts were all that clear.

Jake shook his head, voice firm with a hint of amusement. “I am not just being nice. It is true. You are pretty, Tammy. Anyone saying otherwise is full of crap.”

The smile that spread across Tim’s face came unbidden, not like anything he had **** throughout the ordeal. He felt the warmth of it reach his chest in a way that the wine alone never could. “It does feel good… to actually get a compliment.” he admitted.

“Then stick with me,” Jake said smoothly, brushing his thumb across the back of her hand as if sealing a deal. “As long as you do, the compliments will keep coming.”

Tim’s eyelids felt heavy, his head pleasantly fogged. Belonging, the word pulsed in his mind, fragile but sweet. He tilted closer, smiling faintly. “I would like that…”

The two moved deeper into the museum, Jake’s arm a familiar weight at Tim’s back. The lobby narrowed into corridors where light softened and the music thinned to a distant pulse. Velvet ropes looped between polished posts, red fabric catching the glow of spotlights and making sure everyone was aware to not cross them and get close to the pieces of art. During the day things weren’t so much like this, just a precaution with people walking around with their purchased beverages. Tim watched the ropes sway slightly as they passed, the small fences making the art feel sacred, like the rest of the world had rules they were beyond them.

Keeping one hand on Jake to steady himself, fingers curled around the taller man’s sleeve, while he sipped on the last of the wine, that very beverage making his grip feel warm and lazy. Each step felt almost dreamlike as once more he could hear his own footsteps. Every now and then someone would pass with polite murmurs about a painting, their shoes whispering on the floor. For the first time all night Tim noticed how being with Jake folded him into a shape that seemed to fit. He was close enough to the taller boy’s side that he could hear the slow cadence of his breathing. The presence was a small tether in the fog. All the stress seemed to be gone, it wasn’t that things were perfect, he was a boy in a dress, yet Jake looked at him in a way that made him feel truly welcome that he wanted to hold onto.

With Jake taking the lead they soon paused in front of a piece that looked like a riot of color trapped behind glass to Tim. People lingered at a respectful distance, their conversations hushed. Jake leaned in, his voice low and private even in the public room. “You see this?” he asked, nodding to the canvas. “Art. Honestly, I don’t get it, it doesn’t mean anything, just… chaos, but people like it. No one needs to explain it, no need to explain things, it just abstract and it is what it is. You can stand there and pretend to get it. Or you can just feel it.” Jake shrugged. “Or maybe I’m of crap too, and you get it and it is all just beyond me.” He looked at the blonde girl leaning into him, before looking back at the painting. “Tonight, I want you to feel like that. I can’t imagine you not getting complimented all the time, but you don’t need to explain yourself. Tonight all you need to be is just you.”

Tim smiled before he could stop himself, trying to cover it up by sipping more from his glass to try and answer without just blurting something out he shouldn’t. What he said was a complement, but not something that felt blunt like most of the things the older boy had been saying. “I feel…” Tim said, his voice soft, though the words felt thick… or perhaps it was his tongue with excess of wine. When Emily and Sarah had walked him right up to his own frat, to Jake, the tall man seemed to loom over him, a threat of what could come. Now he felt safe, someone he could trust, despite still very much needing to keep his secret, though now the reason for it felt different. Tim wanted Jake to keep telling him how pretty he was, that he was special, not just some loser. “I feel it.” he continued, whatever he had tried to say being lost on him, only aware enough to know he hadn’t finished whatever it was he started to say.

When Jake leaned in for another kiss, Tim gladly accepted it, feeling desire from someone the first time in his life. He still wasn’t attracted to men, but he could admit his frat mate was handsome in a way he never could be. It didn’t matter right now though, he wasn’t scrawny loser Tim, tonight he was Tammy and they were someone accepted.

Moving on through the museum, Jake kept a steady pace. He had been here a few times and every time the girls really hadn’t liked his little idea and the art, wanting to look at everything they could. It was a good thing, he didn’t like boring girls, wanting them to have personalities of their own and he didn’t think Tammy was any different on that front, but considering how the date started and how the evening was going she seemed much more interested in being with him than what they were currently doing. So he moved her through one of the exhibits, not rushing her, giving the little thing time to stop and look at anything she wanted, but when he didn’t feel or see any sign of resistance he started their trek to the exit and for what was to come.

As they drifted through one gallery and then through another, Tim not knowing if he was being led somewhere specific, he had a sense of being wrapped in Jake’s orbit and being held firm within it. The compliments kept coming in small doses, each one a little anchor that kept Tim from wanting to be anywhere else. Tim answered with half-laughs and stolen glances, unable to and unwilling to pull himself free of it all. It couldn’t last, and Tim knew he shouldn’t be experiencing it at all, he wasn’t actually Tammy. This night was for her and he would let himself, herself… enjoy what she could. ‘Tomorrow I will be Tim, I will be me… Me,me, me.’ The repetition turned into a mental rendition of the vocal singing exercise, his **** mind having a hard time staying fully on track even if he tried to correct it. ‘I’m straight and shouldn’t like this, but Tammy is straight and… and I have to be her or my life is ruined. So, it's fine, for one night I can be her and be happy… right?’

Tim asked himself, not even being aware of his surroundings as he was escorted outside of the building and into the parking lot. All the while seeking permission from himself and unable to answer with his **** drenched mind, while not even being sure if he could be out of his own way enough without it to have found any enjoyment in what he was doing.