The roommate

by Richard Jasper

In this early and short story (just 2000 words), Richard’s fantasies about his college roommate are realized when he and a friend come for a visit during summer break.

A very early story! Which means circa 1993-1995, I’m guessing. And, yes, I really did have a 5th generation Chinese American roommate at Vanderbilt (straight as a board, naturally!)—rpj

By the time I transferred to Vanderbilt in my junior year I was already a well-built 180 pounds at 5’10½ inches tall. I had gained 30 pounds of solid muscle since graduating from high school two years earlier and, despite my definite academic bent (I was double-majoring in history and classics), there was nothing I liked better than to spend time hitting the weights in the gym.

Well, almost nothing!

Consequently, my roommate, Frank, may have seemed a little mismatched. Fifth-generation Chinese-American from Santa Barbara, Frank was a junior transfer student, also, and all of 5’8” tall and 125 pounds soaking wet. “Next to you,” he said one day soon after we started rooming together, “I look like a piece of spaghetti…”

Actually, he was cute as a button. Dark, thick, straight hair, extremely good-looking features, perfectly proportioned for all the fact he was so small. “If only he were gay,” I sighed to myself. But he showed every sign of being determinedly straight—and I wasn’t planning to give away any secrets.

I was a bit surprised, but not too surprised, when he decided to take up weight training, too. We really couldn’t work out together, since I was at least twice as strong as he was, but I got him started, gave him pointers and so on. In that first year of Vanderbilt, Frank put on 10 pounds of solid muscle, which was great for someone his build. At 135 pounds, he was beginning to cause more than a few heads to turn. Of course, in the same period I gained 20 pounds of solid muscle, finally achieving what had been my goal since high school, namely an even 200 pounds of muscular steel, with a 50 inch chest and 30 inch waist.

The last night of spring term Frank and I got pretty thoroughly soused and wound up more or less carrying each other back to the apartment. We both collapsed into my bed and spent the night with our clothes on, on top of the bedcovers.

When the sun came through the windows that morning, I awoke with a start—and found Frank snuggled up to my chest like a warm puppy, my arms clasped around his back—and my usual morning condition was, well, worse than usual.

Jeezus, I thought, I love this—but it’s not what I expected and I think he’s gonna have a cow…

Gently, quietly I disengaged and cautiously slipped off the bed.

“Huh?! What? What’s going on…?” he woke abruptly.

“Oh, nothing, Frank, I just over to check on you,” I answered. “You’re gonna have to get up pretty soon now, bud, if I’m gonna get you to the airport on time….”

He looked around. “What the fuck am I doing in your bed?” he demanded, not quite realizing what it was he was saying. “Uh,” I said, “I think that’s where you landed last night. I seem to have slept on the couch, myself. Neither one of us was in any condition to do anything last night.” He breathed a sigh of relief, then his eyes flew open again. “What do you mean—’anything’?” I snorted. “You know—’anything,’ idiot. Like get undressed. Go to the toilet. Brush teeth. ‘Anything…’” I pointed out, thinking to myself, Jeez, I hope he believes this crap.

With that, he got up and started moving—and I busied myself fixing toast in the kitchenette. I stayed out of his way.

The ride to the airport was in silence. I thought he was embarrassed. God knows I was. Not to mention hot. Fortunately it was one of those cold spring days that come across Nashville sometimes and I had on heavy pants and long jacket—he couldn’t see my erection if he tried.

“Well,” I said finally, as I set his luggage on the sidewalk. “It’s been a great year. You’ve been a great roommate. I’m looking forward to next year.”

And then he shocked the shit out of me by giving me a bear-hug worthy of someone twice his size, one that went on a lot longer than I would have expected from a straight roommate. “Yep, big boy, I know what you mean,” he whispered—and then he pinched my nipple through the thin cotton of my Vanderbilt jersey.

“See you in August…”

“We were thinking about coming down next week,” Frank said after I said “hello, it’s Richard…”

We consisted of Frank and Thad, one of his suite mates from summer term. After three weeks in Santa Barbara, Frank had returned to Nashville to take organic chemistry and other fun stuff like that. While I spent my summer…

“What you been doing?” he asked. “Working out, of course,” I answered. “Well, what else?” “That’s it,” I laughed. “And going to the beach. I decided I needed a summer off and the folks agreed.” “Jesus,” he said, “I hate to think what you must be like now.”

I laughed again. “Well, you’ll see when you get here won’t you? I expect you’ve caught up by now anyway…” It was his turn to chuckle. “I don’t think so, but I am pleased. I’m up to 140 now!” I gave a low whistle.

“That is great,” I agreed. “Fifteen pounds in one year is a lot for you…!”

They pulled up in the driveway to my parents’ house a week later, on a blindingly sunny Saturday morning, the kind you get in north Florida in August. I had been sitting in the garage, having just finished my morning workout. As usual, I was completely and totally pumped. And neither Frank nor his suite mate could see me until I stepped out of the shadows.

“I’m looking for…” Frank began, then he ground to a halt. “Jesus fucking Christ, Richard, is that you?!” he exclaimed.

I let out a laugh. “Well, yes, who did you think it was?” I replied.

Which was a little mean. After all, over the summer I had:

…gotten rid of my glasses and replaced them with contact lenses.

…grown a full beard.

…gained 25 pounds of solid muscle.

His friend stood there with his mouth hanging open and suddenly I was getting major pings, in stereo, on my gaydar.

“Shit, man, I didn’t think you would get so much bigger so fast,” Frank said. “Just how much do you weigh now?” I told him. “Two twenty five?! Which means what—that you’ve gained 45 pounds in the past year…?” I grinned. His roommate—what was his name?—deigned to speak finally. “You told me he was big, Frank, but I just had no idea…”

I put my hulking arms around their shoulders and guided them into the house.

“Guys, I think we’re really gonna have a good weekend, assuming you can pick your jaws up off the floor. This time of year you don’t want to go around with your mouths open—too many flies…”

That afternoon it rained, as it often does that time of year, so instead of going to the beach we headed to the Naval Air Station to visit the new Museum of Naval Aviation and then swung by the newspaper to say “hello” to my parents and take a quick peek at the newsroom. Both Frank and Thad had worked for The Hustler, Vanderbilt’s student newspaper, as I had done.

That night we went downtown to Seville Quarter where we listened to Dixie Land for a while, then visited the disco, and finally wound up on the patio under the banana trees. Through it all, Frank hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of me. And Thad had watched Frank watch me the whole evening. I was might have felt a bit self-conscious but, dammit, I liked having two good looking guys paying a great deal of attention to me.

“You know,” Thad said, yawning widely, “I think I need to get back and grab some sleep. We did get up awfully early this morning. But if you two want to come back…” Frank jumped on it. “No, I’m ready to go anyway,” he said. “It’s a little too sticky, actually…”

I rolled my eyes. “I told you about Gulf Coast humidity but you wouldn’t believe me. Not exactly Santa Barbara is it?” He shook his head. “It’s better at the beach, though, especially on a night like tonight,” I added. He gave me a sidelong glance.

“Let’s get Thad home,” I murmured as we headed for the car.

We did and as he was getting settled, Frank piped up. “You know, I’m really hyped. What about you, big fella? Want to go back out…?” I nodded. “I didn’t get up as early as you all did. Sure, let’s do it.” Thad looked from one of us to the other, then rolled over, a bit huffily I thought. “Have fun,” he muttered.

Back in the car, I asked him.

“Well, how’s Thad?”

“He’s okay,” Frank replied. “A really nice guy. But I think he wants more from a roommate than I can give…” It was my turn for a sidelong glance. “How is that?” I asked. “I thought you were a fine roommate.” His hand settled on my knee. “Ah…” I murmured. “I think perhaps I see.”

“It’s not that I can’t give it to anyone,” Frank said, picking up the last thread in the conversation. “It’s just I want it to be someone special. This is a little embarrassing, but the fact is…no one’s copped my cherry yet!”

I eased off onto the beach road and as I did so rested my big, powerful hand at the back of his smooth, slender neck.

“You may not believe this,” I said in return. “But we’re in the same boat…”

He lay on the blanket as I glided out to the water’s edge. I slipped between the waves and swam a short distance out. I’m a strong swimmer, but still swimming in the Gulf at night by yourself isn’t the smartest thing in the world. I was saying “Play it safe” long before it was a matter of life and death…

When I stopped, finally, and looked back, I saw him standing ankle-deep in the gentle surf. With the moon at my back, I could see him as if he were spotlighted—slender but strong, smooth and completely masculine. Totally naked, too, I could tell, judging by the shadow between his legs.

“Oh, yes, Frank,” I thought to myself. “I rather thought there would be one particular area where you would be larger than I am…”

I swam back under the waves, then stood directly in front of him, the foam dripping off of me. With the moon at my back, I was nothing more than a glistening silhouette.

He gasped. I went to him then, and lightly taking his shoulders in my hands, lifted his face to my eager mouth. He was waiting for it eagerly, not a bit passive, his incredibly silky tongue finding its way into my mouth, opening his mouth to take mine in, gently nibbling with his teeth. He threw his arms around my brawny neck and wrapped his legs around my waist.

I stood there with my arms outstretched. He felt no heavier than a slightly oversized puppy…

“How much can you bench these days?” he asked, talking into my ear so he could be heard above the wind. “How much do you weigh now?” I asked. “140 pounds?” He nodded. “Three times what you weigh…” I continued and his eyes widened.

Taking that as my cue, I shifted him to the palms of my hands, then lifted him above my head. Then I took one hand away…I let him down as gently as a feather. “That makes me so fucking hot,” he said.

“I know,” I said, sinking to my knees. “And this does the same thing for me,” I said, taking eight inches of uncut meat in my hand. I opened my mouth and took it in, just as I had taken his tongue, knowing, as I never thought I would knew, that this was what I was meant to do.

His small, strong body quivered and his surprisingly large, hard hands buried themselves in my hair.

“Do it, Big Man,” he said.

“Just do it…”

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