Page 52 of Freshman

Alfie trudged away, ignoring Nate’s chuckle, and replied that he was fine. He had heard a dripping and thought one of the pipes was leaking. Henry growled it wasn’t his responsibility and told him to get back in the office.

It wasn’t until much later, when Alfie was home, that he finally unfolded the scrunched envelop from his pocket. He stared at his scribbled handwriting, done in a panic the day before, but when he pulled out the paper inside, it wasn’t his letter of resignation.

It was another sketch from Nate, this time titled ‘The Freshman’.

Alfie stared at himself, the tied-down version of himself. Hands secured above his head, shirt open and tie askew. It was different from the other picture. Nate had guessed his body type, no hair, and only a faint etching of muscle. His eyes weren’t open but closed, with his lashes fanning down. The blush spread to his jaw, and his throat was exposed, like Alfie was offering it.

He hated that the picture was arousing and repulsive at the same time. He gripped the edge, poised to tear it in two, but something stopped him. He folded the piece of paper and shoved it under his pillow instead.

Out of sight, but not out of mind, much like Nate.

13

Alfie cursed under his breath as he walked up to Nate’s cell. He had spent another day struggling to sleep because of him and the memory of the almost kiss. He promised himself one thing, he would never open the hatch door again.

“Hello, Freshman, did you like the picture?”

“I burned it,” Alfie mumbled.

Nate snorted by the door. “No, you didn’t. I was thinking about those imaginary boyfriends of yours again.”

“What about them?” Alfie sighed.

“I was wondering what kinds of places these boyfriends take you.”

Alfie shook his head. “What do you want me to say? Up the arse?”

His heart pounded when Queenie boomed with laughter in the neighbouring cell.

“No, I didn’t mean like that. I meant, where would they take you out, what kind of restaurant?”

Alfie used the clipboard to fan the humiliation from his face. Even his eyes watered at his blush. “You’re asking what food I’d have on a date?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Probably just pizza.”

“I’d take you to a nice pizzeria, just the two of us in a secluded corner. I’d buy you a drink, not enough to get you drunk, but to relax you. We’d talk about your day, and I’d talk about mine. Might even light a candle on the table.”

“Aww,” Queenie said, and Alfie rolled his eyes but continued to listen to Nate’s fantasy date.

“If you were cold, I’d take off my coat, wrap it around your shoulders.”

Alfie twitched his nose at the fantasy. The coat would smell of Nate, the tempting fragrance that easily swept Alfie away. His coat would be warm from his body and large enough for Alfie to wrap around his chest and bury himself in.

“I’d whisper in your ear, and you’d shiver and shut your eyes.”

Without meaning to, Alfie did just as his fantasy version would have.

“We’d sit side by side, so I could touch you, and you could touch me, under the table so no one would know. We’d keep going with our hands until it was impossible to withhold our moans, and we had to remove clothing.”

Alfie opened his mouth, and a soft breath escaped him. He couldn’t speak, didn’t trust himself, but Queenie said something to fill the silence, and he inwardly cursed.

“Jesus, Nate,” Queenie yelled. “You’re getting me worked up.”

“Shut it, Queenie. I’m talking to Freshman.”

The snappy tone woke Alfie from his daze. He shook his head and cleared it of sexual thoughts. He forced a cough and spoke as confidently as he could.

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