Chapter Three
WHILE WALTER HAD fully intended to head to Moe’s and cruise the new blood, once he was alone at his apartment, the urge evaporated. He’d wandered around like a caged tiger for half an hour, digesting the cold reality of all the shit he was going to have to move into storage. At the forty-five-minute mark he’d caved and started packing. There seemed no point in putting off the inevitable move. He’d shoved most of his things into storage with Cara’s stuff in the garage to be picked up when she and Greg came back down, gone to the Porter resident assistant for his key, and descended back into dorm life.
As he took in his delicious newbie roommate, however, dorm life didn’t seem so bad.
God Almighty, this one had it going on. Just shy of six feet, he had dark brown hair with a kiss of blond highlights—natural, as if he’d spent the summer in the sun, and it was teased into a subdued version of a messy faux-hawk. He had a medium build, not twink thin, but not cut. Maybe he worked out, but it was at home and only when he had the time. Cutie had lovely symmetrical features, nice lips with a hint of plumpness, and gorgeous eyes that sparkled in hues of pale blue and gray. He sported a suggestion of stubble reaching up to ears that, contrary to Walter’s own aural appendages, lay back politely against the sides of his well-groomed head. Best of all, though, was how he was dressed. Button-down shirt with a royal blue tee underneath. Both shirts were snug without screaming tap this, bitch, showing off a fine, sculpted, young male form.
Then there were the jeans. The jeans made Walter want to moan, they told him so much. The jeans were tight, tighter than the shirt. The jeans had been chosen to advertise, though only to those who were shopping. The jeans hugged and molded and said, I am a gay boy with a fine ass and nice package to go with it, and while I’m a nice boy on the surface, I truly want you to take these jeans off and fuck me. Just be nice when you ask, because I have standards.
Walter loved Hottie Freshman’s standards. He wanted to worship those standards. On his knees, with HF’s perfect little mouth open and gasping as Walter showed his deep and abiding appreciation. Talent. Grade-A, sweet, biteable freshman talent.
At the moment, however, the talent looked scared and overwhelmed and pretty much the way Walter had felt his first night in the door, except Walter had been paired up with a pussy-pounding fuckwad who made his life miserable from the word go, and Walter had never been as shy and prone to blushes as the boy standing in the doorway.
“I don’t understand.” Walter’s roommate tugged on his ear and glanced around nervously. “They said I had a single.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a long story. Short version is, you’ve got a roommate now, and it’s me.” When his roommate still looked nervous, Walter offered a softer smile. “Want to tell me your name?”
He swallowed hard before answering. “Kelly.”
“Nice to meet you, Kelly. I’m sorry about bursting in on you like this. I don’t even have a bed, as you can see, but happily you have a loft, and I have a futon. Going to have to see a chiropractor after hauling it up those damn stairs myself, but better than asking a jock for help.” He gestured to where he’d made space against the wall. “I have a few more things I’m going to need to bring over from storage, but not much.”
Kelly frowned at the futon and the now very crowded floor space. There was just enough room for him to climb up the ladder to his loft, but he’d have hell getting to his dresser. “There’s only one desk.”
“Yeah. They’d give us a second if we asked, but I don’t know where we’d put it. I don’t really need one, if you can spare me a drawer.” He sighed and glared at the room. “Jesus, they’re kidding themselves if they think two people can live here. What a bunch of assholes. That’s Hope for you, though. If we bitch, they’ll tell us this is part of being a family or some other bullshit.” He glanced at Kelly, remembering he was in the presence of a freshman. “Sorry. You probably still have the postcoital glow of orientation going. Didn’t mean to pop your cherry so fast.”
The kid blushed again. It was kind of cute, if not a little ridiculous. “No, I…” He stopped, looking lost.
Walter began to wish he’d stayed at the apartment after all. “You don’t have to stand in the doorway. This is still your room, and I don’t bite. Not unless you ask nicely.”
He should have known that would make Kelly nervous rather than laugh, but Kelly came in all the same, glancing around uncertainly before making a serious study of the air conditioner, fussing with one of the knobs.
Walter tried to fill the awkward silence. “That’s a nice perk, the AC.”
“I have allergies.” Kelly frowned at Walter. “Sorry, are you…you’re not a freshman?”
“Junior. I was supposed to live off campus, but it fell through. I wanted to move into a different place, but they won’t take a new application. They’re crazy about people living away from the dorms. Everyone else has already been given space, and I’m last minute, so I’m back here in Porterhouse with the meatheads.” He pasted on a smile and settled onto his futon. “But I lucked out and got you instead of one of them, so it’s not all bad.”
Kelly went to sit at his desk, every motion careful as if he might have to bolt out of the room at any second like a rabbit. He reached for one of the meal bars and unwrapped it slowly, keeping one eye on Walter the whole time.
Walter couldn’t figure out what to do, so he kept talking. “I noticed those bars earlier. You’re vegan?”
Kelly paused. “No. Well—sort of.” He had red cheeks now too. This could be a drinking game. “I’m allergic to a lot of things, including egg and dairy. I eat meat, though not a lot because my mom is vegetarian, and we don’t eat much of it. Vegan products are easier for the most part, except I have to watch out for almonds. I get crazy bad hives even from a hint of them. If anything’s made on the same equipment as almonds, I’m in trouble.”
Sweet Christ, the guy was a hot mess. “What’s the AC for? What allergies?”
“Dust mite, mold, and ragweed. And down, though the air conditioner doesn’t help with that, obviously. I’m allergic to cats and dogs too, but that shouldn’t be a problem here.” He darted a glance at Walter’s futon. “I—um, I have to encase your mattress, but I’ll buy the cover. We’ll have to wash bedding on hot once a week. Sorry. It’s a huge pain.”
Walter thought of his wonderful down comforter back at the apartment and sighed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Kelly broke off a piece of the meal bar and twirled it in his fingers a moment. “Sorry if I seem thrown. It was a weird afternoon, and I was hoping to just come back and crash. I wasn’t expecting…this.”
“I can imagine.” Walter tilted his head, curious. “Why, what happened at orientation? Besides, I’m sure, some overeager fag-hag wannabe latching on to you?” When Kelly glanced up at him, surprised, Walter almost laughed. “That was a lucky guess, but I’m sorry to hear I was accurate.”
Kelly was crumbling the piece of bar onto the desk, watching it fall. “My orientation leader kind of outed me to our group. I never really came out to her, either, she just—” He stopped, then shoved his sleeve down over his wrist. “She told everyone, and I don’t know why, but it really bugged me.”
“Probably because she made it about her, not you, and she made you everybody’s focus, and you don’t look like somebody who appreciates that much.”
He expected at least a sad smile, but Kelly was still mangling his bar. “I only started coming out recently. I never did in high school because my hometown is so small. It didn’t feel right. I told myself it wasn’t long until college, that I could wait.” He grimaced and pushed his sleeve back up, revealing a thin rainbow band. “I guess it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it’s…I don’t know.”
Jesus. Usually Walter was pretty tolerant about the stupid GSA, but he wanted to beat them a little right now. “It is a big deal. You waited forever for this moment, and then some dingbat craps all over it. You have a right to be pissed.”
Kelly’s shoulders slumped forward. “I guess.”
Walter scooted forward on his futon. “Look, I can buzz out of here for tonight, give you your space. I’m sorry about the futon—can I get the cover in town? I’ll go grab it tonight.”
“No—no, it’s fine. You don’t have to go. Actually…” Kelly’s face blossomed into a slow, shy smile. “Actually, it’s nice to have a roommate. I was bummed about having to live alone.”
“Well. In that case, I’ll stay.” Walter pushed to his feet, grinning. “I need some dinner. You hungry? We could head over to Moe’s for burritos and a couple beers.”
“Oh—I’m not old enough to drink.”
Walter laughed, grabbed Kelly’s hand and pulled him to his feet too. “Come on, roomie. Let’s blow this overgrown locker room, and I’ll give you your real freshman orientation.”
KELLY SHOULD HAVE told Walter he didn’t want to go out. He should have said he’d be fine in the room and let Walter go by himself. He didn’t, because he had a feeling wherever Walter went, interesting things would soon follow.
Also, given the bellows of the jocks in the hallway, he wasn’t yet convinced it was safe to stay there alone.
They went first to Walter’s car, which he’d been able to park in one of the upperclassmen lots north of the union. Kelly would have been impressed enough with having his own vehicle, but to be that close to campus reminded him Walter was in an entirely different league. Not that there had been any flirting, outside of what Kelly figured was standard for Walter. Still, it all gave Kelly way too much of a thrill, because even though this meant nothing, being escorted to the mall by a hot upperclassman who was also gay and had flirted with him even reflexively was as close as Kelly had come to…well, anything.
Kelly stuffed his hands in his pockets as Walter unlocked a sleek, electric-blue Mazda3. “Great car.”
“Yeah, it’s okay. Hate the hatchback.” Walter winced and tossed an apologetic smile at Kelly that still managed to look incredibly sexy. “Sorry. I think that was the most entitled, suburban rich-kid thing I’ve said all week.”
“Are you from Chicago?” Most people in his orientation group seemed to be.
“Yes indeedy. Northbrook, born and raised.” He put the car into gear and began to maneuver it out of the lot. “Parents divorced a few years back, and now my dad lives in some loft downtown where he boinks secretaries—so 1980—but ‘home’ is still my mom’s place back on Wade Street. And yeah, my family has money. Nothing fancy, enough to plunk me here, pay for my sister’s exotic horse to have a better room than I do, plus the whole Dad-midlife-crisis thing. My mom has a job now, but it’s part-time, some weird from-home sales gig she does between living off alimony. Just another happy, fucked-up, north Chicago family.” He glanced across the seat at Kelly. “What about you? I can already tell you aren’t from Chicago.”
He could? “How?”
That little half smile did such incredibly dangerous things to Kelly’s insides. “You aren’t cynical enough. You don’t even have that money-up-my-ass sense of paranoid entitlement that seems to be the other way we go. You, my dear roomie, are almost fresh-faced and apple-cheeked. So spill. From whence do you hail?”
Kelly was almost embarrassed to say now. “Windom, Minnesota. It’s very small, in the southwest. Not a suburb of anything.”
He wasn’t sure what to make of the way Walter smiled, kind of mocking but not really. “Is it an Andy Griffith kind of joint? Dad taking you fishing on weekends, you played ball in the park, and your family had church picnics on the back lot?”
The church picnics were in the basement, but yes, the rest was dead-on, though Kelly didn’t want to admit it. “It’s a nice place.”
“But not nice enough that you could come out comfortably?”
Kelly pressed his hands over his pant legs. “I don’t like making waves, and I don’t like too much attention.” That wasn’t quite true, he acknowledged, remembering the plays and leadership seminars he’d done in high school. He curled his fingers over his jeans. “It’s not wrong to have wanted to come out in my own way.”
“No, it’s not.” Walter drove through the neighborhood surrounding Hope to get to the main road. “It does suck that who you want to fuck is something that would be considered a big deal. That something that mundane could have ruined your high school experience. I don’t know how you lived with that.”
“You were out in high school?”
“Hell yes. I was out in seventh fucking grade, had my first boyfriend in eighth. Well, I say boyfriend, but mostly we were blowing each other in the locker room when we could get away with it. We liked saying we were boyfriends. Felt cool. Got over that by high school, though.” He laughed. “Shit, I guess Todd was my last steady. That’s hilarious. I should find him on Facebook and give him shit.”
There was so much to unpack in Walter’s casual reply that Kelly’s head was spinning. Out in seventh grade? Boyfriend in eighth?
Blowing each other in the locker room?
No boyfriend since then? No boyfriend? He glanced at Walter and wrote that off immediately. No. No way Walter hadn’t been with anyone since eighth grade. No. Way.
Walter caught him looking and lifted an eyebrow. “What?”
“You can’t have not had a boyfriend since eighth grade.”
“Not a one, and proud of it.”
“But there’s no way! You—” Kelly cut himself off, unable to say, had to have had sex.
Walter seemed to hear it anyway. He grinned that sly grin, and as usual it made Kelly’s belly turn over and whine. “I’ve been with guys, yes. Many. But we don’t date. That’s awfully cute, Red, that you think fucking a guy comes with dating him.”
Kelly frowned at the nickname, felt his face heat and went redder. “But why wouldn’t you want to date someone? Why are you proud of that?”
“What the hell do I do on a date that I don’t do any other time? Talk? Hell, you and I are talking right now. Go out to eat? That’s on the agenda too. Doesn’t mean we’re sleeping together, not necessarily. Sometimes sex happens with people I hang out with, sometimes it just happens. It’s a game. It’s fun. Why would I want to fuck it up with some heterosexual mating dance?”
Kelly didn’t know what to say to that, except that he did want to fuck it up with some heterosexual mating dance. He wanted a goddamn gay Disney movie, and no, that wasn’t an oxymoron. He didn’t think a relationship would fuck up sex. He believed it would make it better.
He also believed saying that would get him laughed at and mocked for being from a small town again, so he kept quiet.
Walter glanced at him after a few minutes. “So what do your parents do? Are they still together?”
“Yes. My dad’s a vice president at Windom Savings Bank, and my mom’s an insurance adjuster. My sister, Lisa, is in ninth grade.”
“Bank, and a local one. He doing okay? That whole financial thing didn’t wipe them out?”
“They’re hanging in there. There have been tough times before, since they have a lot of farmers as clients.” He felt the money thing hanging in the air, so he decided to address it. “We aren’t rich. We have money, but mostly that’s because my family is very careful. They’d saved for my college since forever, but Hope was more expensive than we planned for. I just hope I can help pay for my sister’s round when it’s her turn.”
“Sounds like you guys have a perfect, happy family.” Walter winced. “Yeah, sorry, asshole alert. I’m jealous, is all. We’ve all done our time in therapy at my place. The car and the toys and the pricey school, all of it’s my dad’s way of trying to buy me back. I’d trade it all in to live in a trailer park and have a family that sat down to dinner without turning into an episode of Jersey Shore.” He paused, then added, “Maybe not a trailer.”
That made Kelly laugh. “We fight too. But yes, I guess we’re kind of sickeningly happy. Some of it comes from both Lisa and I having health issues. My allergies used to be a lot worse, and the same with my asthma. Lisa has type I diabetes.”
“Jesus, really? That would do it, everyone rallying around the sick kids. Still, I’ve known plenty of families with issues, health and otherwise, that tear each other apart. Give yourselves credit for simply being awesome, huh?”
Kelly smiled and ducked his head, but he felt good, not awkward for once, and he carried that feeling all the way into the parking lot of the shopping center.
“This isn’t the only shopping area in Danby, but it’s the best one-stop joint,” Walter told him as they exited the car. “You can get food over there at Dominick’s, random shit at Target, and there’s even a liquor store on the end. Though don’t go to that one until you’re legal, because they card and they’re good at spotting fakes.”
“I don’t have a fake ID.”
Walter waved this away. “I’ll get you one. Don’t protest, Red. Everybody has one here. Everybody has one everywhere, because what idiots thought they’d send legal adults off to be independent but hold off the one thing they actually want to do? So. Can we get this cover thing at Target?”
Kelly wanted to get back to the ID, because he did not want it, but he only sighed and nodded. “Yes. They have everything we need. Their dust-mite covers aren’t as fancy as the ones online, and they make a little bit of noise when you move, but they’re cheap and they work. It’s mostly a nonpermeable fabric with a good seal.”
Walter locked the car as they headed toward the store. “What happens if we leave the cover off, use down comforters, and don’t scald our sheets?”
“At first, nothing. Eventually though I swell up, especially my sinuses, and if it’s bad enough, I won’t be able to breathe.”
Walter shuddered. “Good to know. Do you have inhalers and EpiPens and all that stuff? Should I know where they are?”
“I have those, yes, always in my pockets, but I take my meds and I know when I’m getting sick. I used to try and not make a fuss about things, especially the food, but I’ve had enough reactions to know I’ve got to. It’s part of why I have the meal bars. My mom buys them in bulk because we have to make sure we have ones without almonds.”
“That sounds as if it really sucks.”
“You have no idea. The almonds are the worst. I eat a lot of vegan stuff because they exclude milk and dairy, but almonds they love. Vegans put them in everything.”
Walter shook his head. “You should be in off-campus housing. How are you going to eat in the cafeteria?”
Kelly stopped walking and frowned. “They said they have allergen menus.”
Walter put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder. “Oh, Red. I keep forgetting how green you are. Let’s just say, keep your EpiPen handy, eh, and maybe a meal bar in your pocket.”
Kelly hoped he was joking and was very afraid that he wasn’t. “Why do you keep ragging on Hope? If you hate it, why are you here?”
“I don’t hate it. Well, I hate parts of it, yes, in the same way I hate parts of everything. It is a liberal hotbed—which is where some of the weird comes from, to be honest—but the professors are great, especially my advisor, Dr. Williams. He teaches Intro to Humanities, so you’ll have him eventually. Also the place really does take overt bullying seriously. Of course, they also have a ridiculously high suicide rate.”
Kelly stopped walking abruptly. “What?”
“It’s true. Look it up. They obviously don’t advertise it, but yeah. It’s the same as everywhere else in life: great intentions, grim reality. They started this joint for underprivileged Chicago youth, trying to give them a better shot. Then it became one of the first to actively recruit women. Then they sought out African Americans, and now Latinos. They’ve always got an angle. But it’s just that, a way to look good. Actually being hopeful? That’s hard shit, and it’s expensive. So we get a lot of Disney.”
“What’s wrong with Disney?”
“What isn’t wrong with Disney? Cute bubblegum life wrapped up in a politically correct Technicolor corporate bow. Fake acceptance and other bullshit carefully crafted to be swallowed whole and consumed at a premium price.” Walter shook his head. “Hope is nothing but a bad dye job. We can’t live off campus because it looks like we’re a big happy family if we’re all right here, and they get all that income from dorms, even when they shove the two of us in a shoebox and try and kill you over almonds slopped in your oatmeal at breakfast. They don’t let people bully, not where you can see it, so they do it in other ways. Let’s just say we should shower at the same time for a while, and use the bathroom at the far end until the thugs work out their pecking order.”
Kelly ignored the slam against Disney and fixated on the important things, such as Hope not being what he thought it was. “I thought you said they took bullying seriously?”
“Yeah. If anyone calls you a fag and you have even a fruit fly as a witness, they’re paying a big fat fine and doing community service. So they’re never going to call you a fag. They’re going to be subtle, and there are plenty of shy gay boys who can’t take it. Now, me? Shit, I ate that for breakfast in high school. They learned to give me a wide berth, and I got out of the bad dorms fast. I transferred out of Porterhouse by Christmas break my first year here.”
“But that’s the only underclassmen male dorm where they allow air conditioners. The allergen rooms in other dorms were all taken by sophomores, they said.”
Walter put a hand on Kelly’s arm again. “Easy. Easy.”
Kelly shook his arm off and pointed at himself, leaning forward to whisper angrily, “I’m one of those shy gay boys.”
“I know, babe. I know.” Walter held up his hands. “Look, I got your back, okay? Roomies, right?”
“Oh, like you’re not bailing on me first chance you get.” What was Kelly going to do? Classes hadn’t started and he was thinking of transferring. He’d spent so much time finding the right place, and now—God.
This time Walter put both hands on Kelly’s shoulders. They felt good and solid, and they meant Kelly could smell the incredible scent that was Walter, spice and cologne and man. It calmed him right down, even as it revved other parts of him up.
“I won’t bail. Promise. And hey, maybe I’ll be wrong. Maybe Porter has all changed in two years. Maybe you’re a secret tough guy, or you’ll stab them with that EpiPen or charm them. But if not—no, I’m not bailing on you.”
Kelly glared at him, or tried to. Fuck, Walter smelled good. “Why not?”
If eau de Walter was hard to resist, Walter’s expression turning empathetic and not at all cynical was purely lethal. “Because I would have killed to have that kind of backing when I felt the same way in high school, and it makes me feel good to be able to give it to you now.”
Jesus. “So now I’m a high school student?”
Cue sideways smile. Kelly couldn’t help it, he was starting to get hard. In Target. It only got worse when Walter scraped his thumb along the pulsing cord on Kelly’s neck. “No, baby. You’re one hundred percent sweet, delectable undergrad.” He winked, then let Kelly go. “Come on. Let’s go get those covers.”