His Roommate's Friend

I kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed. I hugged my cum stained pillow. Every few minutes, I checked my phone for messages. Nothing.

Stuart went into action. He called Roger and asked him to try to find out what had happened and where the students on the bus were. In my head, I saw Andrew drowning in the dark waters of the river. He was reaching out for me, and I wasn’t there. The only thing I heard were the gurgles of water as he choked and drowned.

Sitting next to me, Stuart put his arm on my shoulder, “Don’t buy trouble. We’ll hear soon enough.”

“I lied to you. I like Andrew a lot, and I’m sure he likes me.”

“Shit. I knew when he started asking questions about you that he was going to try to get with you.” Stuart took a deep breath and blew it out. “I lied to you, too,” said Stuart. “Andy and I made up the girlfriend story years ago to keep girls and guys away from him. He was worried that if people knew he was gay, he could lose his scholarship, get heckled at games. He was so paranoid because of what happened to Jimmy-Clay back home. He said he wasn’t going to start dating until he got out of college and moved away.

“He told me he wanted to talk to you and try to figure out whether you were gay. I told him it was dangerous. So you guys came out to each other?”

“We did a lot more than that,” I admitted.

“You really like him, huh?”

I reached under my pillow and pulled out a single foil package. I held it up.

Stuart raised his eyebrows and chewed on his upper lip. “So?”

“There were more of them when he got here. This is the only one left. What am I going to do if he doesn’t come back?”

“Don’t think that.”

I picked up the phone and texted. “I need to know that you’re OK.”

“He probably doesn’t have his phone. Things like that get left behind when you’re getting out of a bus in an emergency.”

The door to the room flew open.

“What did you find out?” Stuart was practically shouting.

“Two guys are missing. Three guys were found in the bus; they drowned. Everyone else got out. They’re not giving out names, yet.”

“Oh, fuck.” I started to cry again.

“What’s the matter, Joseph?” Roger’s voice was soft and tender. He put his hand on my knee and looked into my eyes. He pulled back his hand. I saw his face drop with disappointment before he turned away. “The good-looking guys only go for other good-looking guys.”

“Roger,” said Stuart. “Come on.”

“Fuck this,” said Roger. “I’m always going to be alone.” He got up and left the room.

I wiped my eyes. “What’s his problem?”

“He could tell that you have eyes for someone else?”

“What?”

“Roger likes you, Joseph. He keeps hoping to see a sign from you that you’d give him a chance. I told him that he wasn’t your type and that he wasn’t yours, but he’s shallow. His big fantasy is being fucked on a beach by a bunch of surfer dudes. You need someone more serious.”

“This can’t be happening. My head hurts.” I grabbed my cum-stained pillow; there was still the scent of Andrew on it, but it was fading.

“Come on, Joseph. Wake up. You need to eat something.”

I opened my eyes. I couldn’t believe that I had fallen asleep. Stuart was on the bed next to me.

“You didn’t eat any breakfast. Neither did I, but we’re going to eat lunch. Got it.”

“I can’t go down there.”

“The hell you can’t. Get up. We’re going down to the dining hall, get lunch, and find out if there’s any news.” He smacked the back of my head. “Do you think Andy would want you to sit here and cry and not take care of yourself? Don’t make me fucking drag you there.”

I put my feet on the floor and slipped into my sandals. “My head hurts, Stuart.”

“If it still hurts after you’ve eaten, then we’ll get you something for it.”

“OK.”

We went down again. There were a lot of people milling around. Stuart walked up to someone he knew. “What’ve you heard?”

“They’re going to make an announcement at 12:30.”

Stuart turned to me. “We need to eat something to keep up our strength.”

I followed him into the room with the food lines. I plopped some turkey thing on my plate. It looked like the inside of a pot pie. I think I got cauliflower, at least it looked sort of like cauliflower, and two pieces of pie. I found a table at the edge of the room and sat down. By the time Stuart sat with me, the cauliflower was gone. I looked across the room at some guys who were acting the fool. I stuffed my mouth with some more food.

“Joe, do you always eat your turkey casserole with a bit of coconut cream pie?”

“Huh?”

“You just cut off some pie and scooped it up with the turkey,” he smiled at me.

“I didn’t notice,” I remarked.

“Pay attention and eat the turkey first. Save the pie for the good news we’ll get in about ten minutes.”

I tried to smile. “OK. You’re sure it will be good news?”

“I’m going to get us each a fresh piece for the celebration.” Stuart smiled at me.

“I’d like cherry this time.”

“Gotcha,” said Stuart.

Roger walked up. “Hey, guys, I’m sorry about earlier.”

“You want a piece of pie, too?” Stuart asked him.

“Sure, I don’t care what kind.” Roger sat. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Joseph. I should have told you that I found you attractive. I was just scared and didn’t want to push you away.”

“I understand,” I told him. “I’m not sure if gay guys make this dating thing harder than it has to be or if it’s just difficult for anyone to admit feelings.”

“Probably a little of both,” Roger replied. “When I got back to my room and started to think about it, I realized that you wouldn’t have slept with me anyway. You’re looking for love, and I’m looking to get laid.”

Stuart came back with three slices of pie, all three were cherry.

“Maybe things would be different for you if you started to look for love,” I smiled with my lips tightly together.

“And,” added Stuart, “if you were less of a prick.”

Roger sighed. “Love only gets you hurt. I’ve got the scars to prove it. Being a prick keeps people from getting too close.”

“Love never physically hurts you. If someone physically hurts you, that wasn’t love. You need to talk to a professional, Roger. Being physically injured by someone who says he loves you can make you injure others without even realizing you’re doing the same thing.”

“Sometimes I think that everyone’s fucked up, and I’m just more fucked up than most.

A man with a microphone stood up on a small raised area. “May I have your attention. I’m Caleb Ramsey; I’m the Dean of Student Affairs. I’ll be providing you with the same information that is being given to the media at this very moment.”

More people crowded into the dining hall. The man continued. “Most of you are aware that a bus carrying our basketball team was involved in an accident very early this morning. The bus went off the road and into the Elm Fork River. Two people did not survive; Coach Ethan Hawkster and student Junior Santini were killed in the accident.”

Someone in the crowd screamed and began to sob.

“Two students are officially missing,” he continued. “Authorities know that there is one body trapped under the bus, and they are working to recover it. The identity of that person is unknown, and authorities don’t know whether it’s one of the two students or another individual from the accident as the driver of the other vehicle has not been located.”

“Who are the missing students,” someone shouted.

“Bufford Johnson, also known as Butters Johnson, and Andrew Bergman are missing at this time. All other students and coaches have been accounted for.”

“I don’t want any pie,” I muttered.

Stuart looked over at me. “He’s not the one under the bus. He’s too strong; he’s a good swimmer.” I saw tears fill his eyes. “He’s got to be OK.”

A few hours later, I sat at my desk staring through the window at a world gone completely mad. Stuart was at his desk with a book in his hand. He was a noisy page-turner, and I hadn’t heard him turn to the next page in over twenty minutes. Roger was on Stuart’s bed. He’d started working on math homework and had fallen asleep. All of us were emotionally drained.

I heard the simultaneous chirping of Stuart’s and Roger’s phones. I don’t know whether Stuart turned toward me, but he said, “They’ve identified the body under the bus. It was Butters.”

I closed my eyes. ‘Tigerman, where are you?’

“There’s an aerial search underway,” added Stuart.

“That means they’re looking for his body,” I replied.

“He could have floated down the river. They just need to see him.”

I said nothing else. My brain thought about the events of the last two days. Was I crazy for feeling so attached to a man I’d just met? Maybe. He just seemed to fit me, and now I miss him. I miss him. “Stuart, I have the strangest feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?”

I saw Roger sit up.

“He’s sitting on a log, waving at the sky.” I closed my eyes. “I must be going crazy.”

“Does your head still hurt?” asked Roger

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you take some ibuprofen, get into bed, and close your eyes? It’s probably all this stress.” Stuart handed me the pills. I swallowed them with a little water and laid back on the pillow. The quiet room enveloped me in silence; I could tell that my breathing was more relaxed, calmer. I had the feeling that I was floating off the bed.

Distant voices laughed quietly.

“How long will it take?”

“Only five minutes more; the stuff I gave him will knock him out pretty fast. You can get the ropes ready.”

The two voices seemed familiar.

A hand grabbed my ankle. I wanted to resist, but I couldn’t move. I felt the rope wrap it and then tie it to my wrist. It was too tight; it pulled on my leg. My right side was now getting tied. I struggled to open my eyes, but I could only achieve a small slit. My legs were spread widely. A cold ointment was pressed below my balls, and a finger pressed the grease inside me.

“You know, Joseph Harkness…”

“Darkness.”

“Joseph Darkness, you act as though you’re better than the rest of us. You are accused of taking Stuart’s future boyfriend away from him. Andrew was meant for Stuart, and Stuart was meant for Andrew. You had to ruin it. The girlfriend ruse was to keep guys away so Stuart would have a clear playing field. You had to come along and fuck that up.”

“Now we’re going to fuck you up.” The second voice laughed. Someone straddled my head. “Suck my dick, and suck it good.” The head of a penis was pushed against my lips, but I kept my mouth closed. My nostrils were pinched together; I couldn’t breathe.

Then excruciating pain from my ass spread throughout my lower body. I could feel his cock penetrating me with force. He laughed as he pulled out and then plunged into me again.

I wanted to scream, but my mouth was filled with a dick that kept pushing harder and harder to get into my throat. I coughed and gagged. I knew I was aspirating my own saliva.

And he kept pounding my ass. My arms and hands were immobilized. My vision was blurred with tears.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” shouted the voice whose penis was stuffed into my face. I was flooded with cum, salty, bitter. I tried to bite down, but my blocked nostrils wouldn’t let me. I sensed less pressure as he pulled his cock back, and then he slapped me, hard. “Faggot.” Then he laughed. “Bang his ass; make him bleed. “Yeah, that’s hot. Slam into him.”

The door to the room flew open and smacked into the wall. I looked over as this tall, thin mass entered the room. The room filled with the stench of rotting fish.

“Leave him alone!” The voice was rough, gritty, bubbly. The mass moved close and grabbed the figure who was fucking me and pulled him away. I looked up. The face resembled Andrew. “I got here as soon as I could, Jojo.” A huge section of his face sloughed off onto the bed, and I was looking at a skull.”

I began screaming. I heard shouts, and when I opened my eyes, I was still on my bed. Stuart was looking at me in horror.

“I saw him,” I said. “He was dead.”