Little Man - 5. Unexpected Bedfellows

I woke up and climbed out of bed admiring my morning wood. That lasted until my feet hit the floor. Every muscle in my legs were on fire all the way up to my tender asshole. I forgot how much our leg workout would hurt. And that wasn't including the sex. My erection quickly disappeared. I cautiously reached behind me expecting to find something horribly wrong. My rectum was slightly raw but didn't feel any different. My experience with being a bottom was limited and none of it was as vigorous as last night had been.

Every thought of my night with Ogre brought a smile to my face. Thankfully we decided not to go for a third round after the second shower. In spite of our weariness, we could have. However, we would have been caught. Eric came home about fifteen minutes later to us raiding the fridge. We were starving after everything.

I still felt awkward about leaving Eric out of what was happening. I'd never excluded him before and I felt guilty. I wanted to share all my excitement and fears, but I couldn't. I promised Ogre. It was too early to expect him to come to terms with everything. I had no idea if he could. Was it possible that the big man on campus could surprise everyone and do something so completely against what was expected of him? I wanted to believe he could. I needed to believe he could. I was so very much in love with him.

And I told him last night. It was a slip of the tongue and indirect, but he couldn't have missed it. He fucked me twice afterwards. Doesn't that count for something?

I decided to push the nagging questions aside for now. It was easier to do when I tried to stoop down to put on a pair of shorts. My legs were screaming. With the grace of the elderly, I slowly lifted my clothing to create a semblance of decency. I stepped gingerly out the door and headed to Eric's room.

I quietly turned the knob and soundlessly opened the door. My slumbering roommate lay sleeping on his back, his lower half discreetly covered by his comforter. Even asleep his appearance was beatific. How fucking annoying. Carefully, I climbed on top of his snoozing body ignoring the incredible burning in my legs and straddled his waist. I reached down and with a single finger drew lazy, subtle circles around his left nipple. Slowly, his left eye crept open.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” I chimed as I continued tickling his nipple.

“I thought I heard you come in.” Eric's sleepy eye closed again as his morning voice had the flow of rough gravel. “Why are you sitting on me?”

“Oh, I just wanted to say I'm sorry you couldn't come along last night. It sounded like your study group didn't go very well last night the way you came in.” That was an understatement. He practically kicked in the door and threw his bookbag across the room when he came home.

“It didn't. But it's fixable.”

“And I wanted to thank you for the Monty Python night. I should have mentioned it earlier.”

Eric's eyes reopened as he passed me a drowsy grin. “No sweat, Little Man.”

“It was a good thing.” I couldn't help returning his smile.

“I'm glad to see all's well with you and Ogre. You two seemed in good spirits when I got home.”

“The gay thing? That's squashed. We're cool.” It wasn't a lie. It was a kind of verbal work around over the issue that I was learning very quickly.

One of the reasons Eric's and my friendship was so tight was that very few people could handle our lack of personal boundaries. This would not be the first time we had woken one another by invading the other's bedroom. Eric was just as likely to pull a stunt like this as I was. The last time this happened I woke up to have Eric sitting on my chest and staring into my eyes, so close his nose was practically touching mine. From where I was sitting this time I could feel his morning hardened member underneath me. I continued my teasing assault on his nipple.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” I asked. I touched a finger coyly to my chin. “Were you dreaming about me again?”

“I have to pee. Get off me.” Eric laughed sternly as he reached up and shoved me aside. He climbed out of bed clad in a pair of blue briefs, his erection blatantly reaching to his hip. In spite of all my playing, I didn't want him sexually. We always screwed with each other's head. He called back as he padded into the bathroom. “I'd let you hold it, but the doctor said not to let you lift anything heavy.” Long minutes went by before he emerged.

“It's a bitch to piss through a hard on.” Eric laughed as he pulled on a pair of shorts. He wasn't being modest or shy. He usually went for a run in the morning. I watched him pull on his shirt and then his shoes and socks. I admired his body. It was as perfect as it always had been. It made me wish I was taller. I was always envious how easy and automatic everything was for him. He was suddenly wide awake and ready.

“You should be running with me, Little Man.”

“After what Ogre put me through last night, that's not even funny.” I felt the burn through my entire lower body inside and out. Even if I enjoyed running, that was not happening this morning. As far as I was concerned, I got all the cardio I would need for a week with Ogre last night.

I followed him as we walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a granola bar and headed for the front door.

Before he could head out I asked, “Workout tonight after classes?”

“Definitely. I'll call Ogre and make sure he comes along.” I nodded assent and he jumped out the door, immediately hitting the sidewalk at a brisk pace. He was around the corner in no time.

It was Thursday morning and I had my studio classes to contend with. I ate a quick breakfast, dressed and headed out to my first class.

My painting class was first. A throng of students I had no interest in filtered into the room. A discussion of politics and the impact of art upon it sprung up from the intense girl with the shaved head and multiple facial piercings. I couldn't wait for class to begin. Finally the professor came in dressed in stereotypical tie-dye, her frayed greying hair tethered into an unkempt pony tail. The professor had laid out a still life composition consisting of a glass pitcher filled with water and a small bouquet of flowers atop a bistro style table that sat quietly in the middle of the studio. The exercise, she said, was primarily about rendering the glass in a convincing way.

I unpacked my supplies and laid the canvas board into my class easel. With a brush loaded with raw sienna oil paint, I started to rough in the loose forms. Once the basic structure was laid out I examined the shapes. The body of the pitcher had a narrow base and bulged out through the top much like Ogre's fit torso. The water inside was creating droplets of condensation that reminded me of sweat on his skin. The flower bouquet hung lazily over the edge of the table like Ogre's half hard cock across his leg. The table made me think of the kitchen counter he had fucked me on last night.

Great. Now I had an erection. This was going to be a long class.

Once I had managed to get through the class without humiliating myself, I packed up and left the building. I had an hour to kill between classes that I treated as a lunch hour. My stomach wouldn't stay quiet once I went to the student union and found the cafeteria. Obviously, I didn't eat a large enough breakfast given the exercises Ogre had put me through. I snickered to myself as I tried to count the calories burned during sex.

There was a lot to choose from and a lot I wouldn't inflict on anyone. Some of the food was unrecognizable, but it was cheap. I went through the line and had the cashier ring me up for two apples and a smoked sausage in a bun. Nothing ironic here, I sarcastically reflected.

I found myself daydreaming as I ate my questionable lunch. Ogre filled my every thought. He distracted my every minute. I looked at my cell phone for the hundredth time to see if I missed his call. A moment of panic overtook me. What if he didn't come to the gym with us? He heard me say “I love you.” Have I screwed up everything? I wanted to call him so badly and hear that familiar voice, but I resisted. I was thinking too much for my own good.

I checked my watch and rushed to finish my food. I didn't want to be late for my Advanced Drawing class.

My distracted thoughts in my drawing class were worse than my painting class. I barely registered the male model enter the classroom to begin the session. He opened his robe and hung it on a coat rack at the back of the stage and I couldn't stop comparing what I saw as his inefficiencies to Ogre's physique.

The model was slender and graceful where Ogre was massive and powerful. He was average height where Ogre was tall. He was overly pretty where Ogre was rugged and masculine. Even his genitals seemed uninteresting. I couldn't stop thinking the word: Inadequate. A week ago I wouldn't even have had these musings.

I was so preoccupied, that by the end of the session I found an ugly cubist like figure on my paper. I really hated this drawing. I pondered my work sadly as my teacher walked up behind me. He praised me on stepping outside my comfort zone and my stylized analysis. He went on to explain how he loved the expression of conflict and confusion in the figure. Then he shared the drawing with the class and continued his interpretation of the classwork. Pseudo-Intellectual garbage is what it was. Mortified, I couldn't wait to get out of there.

* * *

Eric and I arrived at the gym. Ogre was supposed to meet us and I couldn't stop shifting nervously. I feared he wouldn't show and everything would fall apart for the three of us. Eric said he was coming. That should be good enough. My stomach was aflutter.

Gym bag over my shoulder, we walked through the weight room as I scanned from corner to corner. He had to be here. I needed to know we were all right. I needed to know that my slip of the tongue hadn't been the disaster that was quickly foretelling itself the more I dwelled on it. Ogre was nowhere in the common area and my heart began to sink. Dread seeped in behind my eyes as I followed Eric into the locker room. Ogre wasn't there.

Even though it looked like Ogre and I were in a good place, voices in my head kept whispering doubt in my ears. My biggest fear was that I would fall helplessly in love with him and he would walk away. I was halfway there already. Ogre seemed genuinely involved, but I worried what would happen if the whole liaison was challenged or exposed prematurely. All I could do was ride out the timeline and hope it ended in my favor.

We changed clothes and I pretended all was fine, but my mood darkened. I went to the bathroom inside the locker room for an excuse to search deeper. Various men in state of various dress populated the aisles, but none were Ogre. Ogre was nowhere to be found. I resigned myself to Eric's sole company and we headed into the weight room. It would be all right. I kept telling myself that.

“Eric! Little Man!” Ogre's voice bellowed across the room. His strong arm waved us over to the free weight stacks. My spirits rose at the sight of him. He oddly wore a baggy long sleeve shirt and sweat pants that obscured his musculature from view. I doubted I'd ever seen him wear anything self-conscious before. Even so, my smile could probably be seen from a mile away. Once he found my eyes he returned the expression.

The three of us went along our task as standard fare. A small amount of idle chatter and we were off on our exercises. Ogre set up our dumbbells and started us all on shoulder work. Like an eager child, I wanted him to watch as I performed. I walked over and picked up my weights. My steps were painful and clumsy from last night's exertions.

“You're walking funny, Little Man. You get lucky last night?” I narrowed my eyes at Ogre's knowing grin.

“Ask your Dad,” I shot back. Eric burst into laughter. Even Ogre had to shake his head as his grin widened still. “You put me through a lot last night.”

“That'll teach you to take on the Ogre.”

“I can handle it. Bring it on.”

Eric stepped behind me and spotted my arms as I pressed the weights above my head. We all took our turns lifting and spotting, except me when I couldn't reach high enough to be of use on some movements. All the time I felt the heat of Ogre's glances on me. I caught subtle smiles as he looked in my direction. I hoped I was being as subtle as he was.

In between exercises, Eric went to the drinking fountain and Ogre sidled close and whispered to me.

“Sorry I was late getting here. I couldn't let Eric see me in the locker room. My back and arms are full of scratches.” His tone was exasperation and admiration at once.

“From what?”

His brows rose in surprise. “Um, you.”

“Seriously?” I looked at my fingernails in disbelief. They didn't seem that long. “How did I not notice that last night?”

“You were rushing to make sandwiches after our shower. I threw on my hoodie.” Ogre began to chuckle. “I thought they would have faded. You worked me over pretty good. Apparently I was doing something right.” The baritone of his voice was going straight to my groin. “I can't wait to go on that ride again.”

I stepped away and pinched myself hard to quell the erection that was moments away from appearing. All I could do was smile back as Eric returned to us.

The rest of our workout went smoothly. I focused on the task at hand and pushed the images of Ogre's scratched torso from my mind. Then I pushed the images of him naked out of my mind. Then I pushed the images of him fucking my brains out while I scratched him out of my mind. It was a losing battle. When we finished our last set I was sweating and breathing hard from more than just the exercise.

“Ogre, you coming around tonight?” Eric asked. I watched out of the corner of my eye so I wouldn't stare as I anxiously awaited the answer. I wanted him near me. If he was at our place I was sure it would be easy to come up with an excuse for him to sleep on the couch. I was willing to take whatever I could get at this point.

“I can't. I've got a Biology exam to cram for early tomorrow. I'll have to catch you guys over the weekend,” he replied. I tried to hide how disappointed I was. His shoulders sank slightly and I found a soft apology in his eyes. It didn't help. When Eric turned his back on him, he mouthed the words, “I'm sorry.”

Eric and I showered and changed. My mood was sullen as we left the gym. We climbed into Eric's car and left the vicinity.

“Everything okay?” Eric asked.

“Yeah. I'm just a little tired.” Again came the creep of guilt. I never used to lie to Eric.

“You're just a little quiet is all.”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Shitty art projects.” I reached forward and turned on the radio. I didn't want Eric to keep asking me questions.

I wasn't sure how to respond when my cell phone chimed. I had a text message. I flipped open the screen and read the message.

I wish I could be there. Missing you.

A warmth spread across me and I tried to hide a smile. I turned down the music volume and turned to Eric.

“I'll be fine. It's all good.”

* * *

I woke up at eight the next morning elated. Ogre's text had halted all the nagging voices in my head and I felt good. I dressed quickly and found Ogre's sketchbook. I suddenly felt inspired. I could return his book and see if he wanted to go for an early run before his class. That would give us a chance to spend a little time together. That sounded like an excellent plan.

I switched into athletic togs then grabbed a power bar and his sketchbook before bounding out the door. I should have left Eric a note, but he wasn't awake yet and my window of opportunity was small. Even if he didn't have time to run, I could still hang out while he got ready.

My car roared to life and I was off like a shot. I had so much energy I was bursting. I hoped I could contain myself and not look like a fool once I got there. The radio was on with a local talk show I enjoyed that made me laugh. The two hosts' playful banter mirrored my raised spirits. I pulled into the parking lot of Ogre's apartment complex and found an open visitor's space next to his truck. He was still here. I smiled at his vehicle and ran my hand along its steel side as I walked around my car.

I found the front door and pressed the button to call ahead.

“Who is it?” The voice crackled over the cheap speaker.

“Paul, it's Little Man. Let me in.” I heard the buzz and the door unlocked.

Paul was another member of the football team. Nice guy, a little sloppy and constantly unshaven; an odd couple match to Ogre's polish. I bounded up the steps to the third floor ignoring the second day ache in my legs. I was simply too excited to care. I knocked on the door and Paul let me in.

Paul had messy brown hair and a baby face. He tried to age his appearance by refusing to shave to no avail. He was wearing a wrinkled football jersey he no doubt slept in and a pair of buttoned up boxer shorts that hung to his knees. His hair was matted up in odd spikes and there were still lines in his faces from a pillow. He obviously hadn't been up long.

“Hey Little Man, what's up?” Paul asked. He rubbed his face with an open hand trying to turn on his brain.

“I needed to bring this back to Ogre and thought I'd see if he wanted to go for a run. We missed you at the party the other week.” I liked Paul. He was pretty laid back and I was surprised when he didn’t show up with Ogre that night. Although, in retrospect it was probably to my benefit.

“Yeah, man. I had to go to my sister's wedding otherwise I would have been there.”

“Ogre up yet?”

“Not yet.” Paul smirked. “Um. . . I don't know if he'll go for a run or not.” I was confused. He obviously knew something I didn't. He walked into the adjoining living room and sat himself down in front of the softly playing television leaving me standing in the kitchen.

I found myself unconsciously rubbing my arms. Paul didn't know about Ogre and I. He couldn't. Ogre wasn't about to share that truth with anyone yet. I didn't see that as even a vague possibility. Yet somehow Paul was smiling to himself over a secret that amused him and I was out of the loop. The hair on the back of my neck began to rise and my skin was starting to crawl. It was then that I heard the door to Ogre's bedroom open and he stepped out.

“I gotta take a piss,” he said. Ogre wasn't speaking to me or Paul. He hadn't even looked in our direction yet. His hair was mussed, as much as his short hair allowed, and his body had a dirty sheen to it. The gym shorts he was wearing were grossly tented in the front.

“Hurry up,” said the young woman's voice from his bedroom.

When Ogre closed the door, he turned and looked right at me. He blanched.

“Little Man, what are you doing here?” He looked like a spotlighted deer. It took all my will to respond.

“I brought back your sketchbook.” My voice was weak and I simply couldn't think. A weight grew in my chest and made it hard to breathe. Every part of my world had grown suddenly claustrophobic. I clumsily set the book on the closest shelf I could find. I almost dropped it on the floor with my trembling hands.

“Um. . . thanks.” He looked over at his roommate and then back to me. A fearful visage was forming over his face as I tried to marshal my strength.

“I was going to see if you wanted to take in a run but you seem to be prepping for your Biology exam.” I heard Paul snort in the background. I took in a deep controlled breath to center myself. I could feel my eyes moistening as a sickening heat built in me. I needed to leave. “You're busy. I should go. Sorry to interrupt. I. . . I'll talk to you later.” Gravity had seemed to turn on its heel. I stumbled a little. I told myself it was because my legs were still sore.

I let myself out the door. He followed me.

“Clay. Wait,” he quietly pleaded. I stopped and turned. His fallen face had a look of wide eyed horror upon it. His mouth was hanging slightly open. I could barely see through my swelling eyes. His whole body looked defeated as his every muscle sagged and he supported himself against the wall. A single tear escaped down my face and I turned away. I couldn't bear the sight. He didn't stop me as I went down the stairs and exited the building.

I went to my car trying to suppress my rage and sadness. I frantically searched for my keys. Checking every pocket three times over, I finally discovered them and my twitching hand dropped them on the pavement. As I stooped down to retrieve them, I uncontrollably and painfully vomited down the side of my car. Once the retching had ceased, I opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat. I struggled to get the keys into the ignition. Somehow I backed out and found the road, my shaking hands on the wheel. I stamped down the sobs that filled the fringes of my eyes.

I roughly shut off the morning radio show. I couldn't absorb their cheery fucking bullshit. My mood was fluctuating me between rage and self-loathing. I was furious. How could he? How could he fuck that whore right after he and I had been together? I should have known. He probably ran back to her to reassert his masculinity. I was so fucking stupid. How could I be so fucking stupid? I struck the steering wheel over and over with my raging fist trying to quell the storm in my chest and eyes.

It's not as if I had a claim on him. This had only started two weeks ago. There was no commitment between us spoken. For God's sake, we weren't even allowed to tell anyone. He was ashamed of us!

My raging theories ran unfettered in my head as I parked my car and lurched awkwardly into my house. I couldn't even acknowledge Eric sitting in the living room as I stormed past and headed for my bedroom.

“Little Man?” Eric's face was blank as I put up my hand to distance myself. I slammed open my door. My raw gasps for air were taking control of me. My pulse was never so loud in my ears. I had to silence the voices. I needed to overwhelm the image of him walking out of his bedroom covered in sex sweat. I needed to burn out the whore's voice that showed me what a naive, stupid fuck I was.

Grabbing my I-pod, I jammed the earbuds into my ears, my hands trembling, and struggled to turn it on. I turned the volume as high as I could stand. Crashing music tried futilely to drown the building despair inside. I raged.

“I knew this would fucking happen! I knew it!!!!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

I kicked my dresser as hard as I could and wildly slapped everything on top to the ground. My textbooks flew across the room and the design markers that started it all scattered in random directions. Over the music I couldn't hear my sad scream.

Then I felt a strong hand at the back of my head and neck and I caved. I spun around and saw Eric, his brow twisted as if trying to question me silently. I tried to speak out loud, but my erratically heaving chest made me choke on my words. Giving in, I buried my face in his chest as suffocating, heaving sobs poured out of me. My knees gave way under me and he followed me down wrapping his protective arms around me. I couldn't stop the anguished wails that stripped me of my strength and dignity.

I hadn't cried so hard since my parents died.