“What’s this John?”
Griff looking up from the box of photos and other random stuff he was unpacking and over to where Pete was unboxing his clothing, putting it in with Pete’s own stuff.
Only now he was holding up a small simple black case that Griff had kept buried in the back of his underwear draw for years, Griff opened his mouth but nothing came out. He hadn’t even looked at or thought about the box or what was inside for months but now all he could thing about was the case, and who gave it to him.
And what followed, “Marcus…”
John swallowed hard, pulling at the collar of his shirt when he spotted Marcus. The fall leaves and over grown shrubs surrounded the old forgotten metal and wooden bench meaning that few people even knew it was there. But Marcus knew about it and since last spring so had he.
It was their park bench, their private spot.
Looking around John made his way over toward the bench and Marcus, smiling at the view. Marcus’ broad shoulders and muscular body were shown off perfectly in his Lettermen jacket, over his tight dark shirt and well fitting jeans…John had no idea how he’s gotten to lucky to be the one the senior picked.
“Who’s Marcus?” Pete asked, looking the box over, and then looking up at Griff.
“He is, that is he was…We went to high school together. He was a year ahead of me, captain of the Lacrosse and Debate Teams. He did lifting meets on the side sometimes too…he, he was a stud,” Griff said with a smile, taking the box from Pete’s hands, dropping on the bed.
“He wasn’t just a friend was he,” Pete asked, sitting down next to Griff.
Griff shook his head, slowly opening the box; pulling out a golden chain.
John couldn’t take his eyes off his the chain. The coiled gold and thin name plate with the word, Stud, embossed on it flashed in the sun’s light.
“I want everyone to know you are my stud and after tonight you will be,” Marcus’s voice whispered into his ear. The hot breathe and warm hand on his neck made every cell of his body ignite.
“He was much more then just a friend,” Griff acknowledge, turning the chain over in his hands, fighting the urge to hold tight when Pete slide it from his grasp.
“Stud?” Pete asked, looking at the name plate.
“It’s what he called me. We couldn’t use names. No one knew about us, couldn’t know. He even made it look like I dated his sister for awhile. Just to explain all the time we spent together,” Griff told his boyfriend, his gaze never leaving the chain.
“Was he…was he your first?” Pete questioned, reaching a hand around his lover and pulling him close.
Taking the chain back Griff looked at the word, “The night he give me this,” Griff said, leaning into Pete, letting himself be held.