Slash Work - 8. Play Date/Kiss Already!

Chapter 8: Play Date/Kiss Already!

“I was NOT getting political!” “He is something of an ass.” “Make the story more real and believable.” “There are some total gems in there. It’s all your fault.” “You are evil. I like torture :)” “You are too much of a tease damn it!” “I feel the need to strangle you.” “What the hell.”

I was almost done with my project by the time I had to go to Chad’s the next day. What’s worse is that this morning, when I woke up, I felt a sudden shooting pain in my ass. Apparently, that ointment wears off after awhile. I had to painfully drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom and prep myself up with another lube job. I suddenly felt extremely lucky that I wasn’t in a prison shower room. My hole would be big enough to pass a whole ham through.

The phone soon rang. Chad told me to get there as soon as I could. I think I grumbled a reply back, as it was before noon and I wasn’t quite used to being up so early on a Saturday. Teeth brushed, hair not sticking straight up, sniff tested clothes found on the floor put on, I made my way out the door. Then I came back in, grabbed the lube (just in case), and the materials for my project, THEN headed out once again.

Chad’s dorm room was located in one of the buildings located just along the border of campus, which meant a ten minute drive to get there. It was starting to get colder out. I was seriously starting to consider switching from a jacket to a flat-out coat. The wind was constantly changing direction so that it was always hitting my face. It always does that. The winds must have it out for me. What did I ever do to them?

The inside of the dorm building was a maze. Based on the map posted near the entrance, I half expected a warning of the Minotaur living within the maze to be posted alongside the map. Luckily, however, Chad’s room wasn’t too hard to find. Oddly enough, as I made my way closer to his room, the halls kept getting quieter and quieter. Did I accidentally stumble into the Nerd Section of the building? No...here’s his room number. Hoping that I didn’t accidentally write down the wrong number, I knocked on the door. Sure enough, Chad answered the door.

“Hey dude. Come on in,” he invited.

He seemed to be dressed down a little. All he had on was a plain white T-shirt, a pair of pajama pants, and, when he bent over to turn off his Xbox 360, upon seeing his buttcrack, confirming my belief that there was nothing on underneath. He was literally two articles of clothing away from being completely naked. THAT idea didn’t help me trying to suppress an erection.

“Just make yourself comfortable,” he said, busily pushing papers onto one of the two beds. Which reminds me...

“Hey, where’s your roommate?”

“Oh, he’s down at the library researching for a paper that’s due on Monday. He’ll flunk it of course, but I don’t think he really cares. I wouldn’t be surprised if, by now, he’s shooting hoops with some of his friends instead of working on that paper.”

Great. No heterosexual roommate to help keep my thoughts (and hands) to myself. The two of us, alone together in this room. Him already practically half undressed. I am eagerly awaiting the cheap, 80s porn music to start playing overhead. Bow-chicka-wow-wow...

“You want anything to drink, dude?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“That’s cool. Did you bring your own project as well?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t get it done in time. All I really have left to do is actually typing up the paper.”

“That’s awesome. More than what I did.”

“Now are you actually trying to tell me that you haven’t even started on this yet? ‘Cause if you haven’t, I’m not about to spend an entire day helping you out of the grave you’ve dug for yourself.”

“I’ll have you know that I have started on this project. It just goes way over my head, dude. I don’t know why I ever signed up for this course. I mean, dude. I could barely handle high school math. What made me think that I could handle Pre-Calculus?”

“My theory was always that you were stoned off your ass when you signed up for it.”

“Well, maybe not drugs, per se. I wouldn’t rule out a rare night of drinking, though.”

“I don’t see how, even in a drunken fog, you could’ve thought that your math skills excel further than x+y=z.”

“Shut up, dude,” he laughed, playfully punching me on the arm. “I actually got a ‘B’ in my Algebra class in high school. All the other football players considered me a brainiac after that.”

“Wow. A ‘B’!” I exclaimed, sarcastically. “Truly you are a god amongst men.”

“Dude, are you going to fling insults at me the entire day or are we going to work on our projects that are due in two days?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get to work.”

Four fucking hours later, we were still working on the damned thing. Actually, we were still working on his project. Fucker really HADN’T worked too much on it. By the end of the first hour, I had gotten my project done. Saved on my flashdrive, all I needed to do now was go to one of the buildings and print it off. Chad, on the other hand...

“Okay, it’s four o’clock, we’re STILL working on this thing, and I’m seriously considering murdering you,” I said, plainly.

“Dude, unless you got a knife hidden up your sleeve, I can totally take you no problem.”

I went to the communal bathroom to keep my butt super slick and penetrable. Seriously, what’s the point of making my crack MORE easily rapeable (is that even a word?), after it had ALREADY been raped? I could hear Chad’s voice in my head: “You weren’t raped!” Yeah, yeah, shut up Chad.

~~~

After another hour, we had managed to get most of Chad’s project done. All he really needed to do now was write another couple of pages and print it off. I made specifically sure that I didn’t help him get an A+ on the project. He’d have to earn that on his own. I just helped with making him understand what the projected wanted out of him, and spelling and grammar checking what he already had typed up (not that his spelling and grammar check on his Word Document couldn’t already do that, but you know how unreliable those things are).

His cell phone rang. I thought he said that people never call him anymore? He picked it up and started fiddling with it. Oh. Must’ve been a text message.

“My roommate just buzzed in,” he said. “Said that he’s just going to take the failing grade for the project and go hang out with his buds.” The phone buzzed again. He clicked the new message. “And apparently going to sleep with this hot chick that he just scored. He may not be coming back tonight to grab any of his stuff. I’ll just text him that I’ll be having my own orgy over here, not to be surprised if there’s any ‘stains’ on his sheets, and always use a condom, especially on loose chicks.”

His fingers were typing the messages as he spoke. So...an orgy, huh? Maybe I could volunteer to be the cameraman?

“That’s cool. Mind if I stick around? Snap a few photos with my phone? Use to jerk-off later on tonight?”

“As long as not all the photos are of my delicious ass, sure,” he replied.

The whiplash comment surprised me so much that I started stuttering.

“Um...no...I didn’t mean that...I mean...it’s not like I would avoid your ass...no wait...I mean...”

He started laughing.

“Dude! We’re not having a orgy,” he stated. “Geez, I was only kidding.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I knew that.”

“Sure you did,” he said, smugly.

“I did!” I defended, lamely. “Your comment just threw me off. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.”

I suddenly felt the urge to tackle him in a desperate and lame attempt to reestablish my manliness. I did as such. It was unsuccessful. As quick as I had initiated contact, he ended it by pinning me to the ground. Now what made me think that I could take on somebody from the football team?

“Dude, that was pathetic,” he said, his face mere inches from my own.

“It’s all part of the plan to lower your defenses,” I retaliated, finding it hard to NOT get lost in his eyes. Since when am I an eye-person? Dear God, he could blind somebody with those teeth of his. I struggled in a futile attempt to break free from his hold.

“Yeah. You keep telling yourself that,” he said with a big-ass smirk on his face.

I soon realized that resistance really is futile. I could NOT break eye contact from him. It occurred to me that he wasn’t looking away either. He eventually lifted himself up, offering me a drink.

“You already asked that when I got here,” I reminded him.

“Oh. Well, I’m asking it again. You’ve been here so long.”

He sat down on the bed, picked up the remote, and turned on the TV.

“No, I’m okay,” I answered.

“That’s cool. You doing anything later on today?”

“No, I’ve got the day off. Why?”

“You wanna hang out here? I’ve been told that I make a great pillow,” he said, smiling at me, with that knowing look in his eye. Was he kidding?

“I’m sure you do,” I said, deadpan. “I don’t want to impose on your vastly important TV watching ritual.”

“Dude, don’t be a douche. It was a yes or no question.”

He seemed a bit more hostile in saying that than was necessary.

“Yeah, I guess I can hang out here.”

“Cool, bro. Have a seat.”

He patted the bed space next to him. It’s not like there was anywhere else to sit, except the floor. We mindlessly watched TV for the next hour or so. We talked about random shit. It was nothing exciting. He didn’t even try to scare me when I had to go reapply that stupid ass ointment on myself. How much longer do I need to slather that thing on my crack?

When I came back, Chad was grabbing some food out of the stash in the corner of the room. I sat down on the bed, continuing to watch whatever it was that we weren’t watching. He soon sat down next to me...right next to me. Uncomfortably, closely next to me. “Invading my personal space” next to me. I didn’t move, out of fear of coming across as rude. It wasn’t like he was placing his hand on my hand, rubbing shoulders against each other, resting his head on my shoulder. He offered me a chip. I declined. I was famished at that point. The scenes that I knew I’d later be writing down were flashing in my head.

“Dude,” Guy B said, looking thoroughly pissed. “There’s just something about Guy C that I don’t like. I don’t think it was entirely coincidental that he showed up just in time to rescue you. And on that topic, you should’ve called me when you came to! Dude, you KNOW that you can always come to me!”

“Wellsorry for getting the crap beaten out of me!” I yelled back. “I didn’t know that I was supposed to have such things scheduled in my planner so that I could reasonably call you afterwards!”

He looked like he was about to say something else, but instead willed himself to suppress it. His face took on a more calmer demeanor.

“Dude, I was just worried, okay? It’s not every day that your best friend gets beaten within an inch of his life. It’d be like if you heard that your dog, Poindexter, had a hit-and-run attack done to him, and found out that a shady man with a crazed look in his eyes took him in to ‘take good care of him.’ Wouldn’t you be suspicious of the man?”

I looked at him in puzzlement. Since when had he referred to me as his “best friend”? And a guy shouldn’t be acting so melodramatic over something like this, especially if it’s done to another guy. Why is he acting like this? Why does he care so much?

A sudden smack to my head brought me out of deep thought.

“Wha?” I said dumbly, looking over at Chad.

“Dude, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes. Have you heard ANYTHING I’ve said?”

“No. Sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Just...personal things. Stuff I’d rather not discuss.”

No WAY was I going to inform him of my homoerotic story now.

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I stressed.

“Alright. I was just offering a listening ear,” he defended.

He started talking about something on a completely unrelated subject. I went along with it, simply to steer him away from what I was thinking about. Towards dinner time, around seven-ish, I clearly needed something to eat, and said as such to Chad. He admitted that he was hungry too, and offered to go out somewhere and bring back some food. For some odd reason, I didn’t feel too comfortable sitting all by myself in someone else’s room for several minutes. I asked if I could tag along with. He smiled and said that it’d be fine by him.

We ended up going to McDonald’s, the Lay Man’s restaurant. It’s not Taco Bell, so I was happy. It was only when I went to order that I found out that I had left my money on my dresser back at my apartment. Chad offered to pay for my food. I denied his request, saying that I could still pay with my emergency-only credit card that I kept in my back pocket. He decided then to promptly pick the card out of my hand, shove it into his pocket, and proceeded to pay for my dinner. I’m sure that, to the cashier, this looked very much like some kind of a first date. I told Chad that too. He tried to feed me a french fry in retaliation. I told him where to shove it.

After dinner, we headed back to his dorm room. His roommate still wasn’t there. It looked like he really wasn’t going to be “home” tonight. At least somebody’s getting lucky tonight. We sat back down on the bed, he sitting closer than necessary again. He turned on the TV, flipping to a random station. This was starting to become monotonous.

Wait...what was that? Did he look at me? Did he want something?

“What?” I asked.

He looked mildly surprised.

“Nothing, dude.”

Huh. I went back to watching mindless violence.

A few minutes later, he turned towards me.

“Hey, Nick.”

I turned towards him.

“What?” I asked.

He looked nervous.

“Well...um...”

His lips made contact with the corner of my own.

Backing me into a corner, Guy B took my face into his hands and roughly planted one square on my lips.

So...reviews, guys?