SWEET ROOMMATE
Part 5: Love Hurts
Things were not the same the next week. We followed our class schedule, but we no longer sat together, and although we tended to hang out with the same friends as before, he skipped a few lunches, skipped our study group a few times, and avoided touching me at all - certainly not under the table. For my part, this was pure Hell, because I found I thought about him constantly and I had to jerk off a lot just to keep my mind on my work. One evening I jerked off at least four times between dinner and sleep - to the point where almost nothing came out the last time.
Even in our room together he'd be short and to the point - speaking only when necessary - and occasionally outright rude. I could cut him a lot of slack, and I still held out hope that his resistance would collapse shortly, but it was taking way too long. The closest we came to it, though, was when I'd jerk off in bed at night knowing he was listening, and that wasn't satisfactory at all.
The weekend came, and he went home again. First time he'd done that two weeks in a row. His folks were still very friendly with me, so I guessed he still hadn't told them anything; probably figured it wasn't in his interest to tell them anything - however distorted. He also hadn't requested a room change, and I was afraid to ask him why. I felt down all weekend, and I realized that this hurt much, much worse than anyone else I'd ever been stuck on. Of course, my previous crushes had almost all been straight boys, and nothing had ever happened with them; having actually had a taste of what I wanted, with someone I really cared for, having it taken away was more than I could bear. Even fantasizing about him was painful, and for a wonder I didn't jerk off more than once the whole weekend. (Maybe twice.)
Sunday night, after his parents had deposited him in the room and taken their leave, I decided I couldn't take it anymore.
"Bob, we have to talk."
"Do we?"
"Can't you at least still be friends with me? I don't think I can describe how much this hurts."
"You should think about something else."
"What made you get so cruel? I would never have done anything to hurt you." I suddenly realized I was speaking in the past tense and my eyes filled up with tears, "I would have done anything not to hurt you," I choked out. Ashamed of myself, and bitterly unhappy, I fled from the room, out across the campus.
At first I walked with no particular goal, but eventually I found my way to a small neighboring park that I liked because the trees in it reminded me of home, and I threw myself down into the wet grass and wept. Then I just lay there for a while, my mind racing; part of me felt it was all over and pushed me to move on; another part wanted to dwell on nice moments we'd had together when we'd been playful and affectionate; even his flirting with danger seemed adorable now. But every nice thought instantly turned painful when I reflected on how those moments were gone, and I no longer believed I could get them back.
After a bit, damp, tired, sleepy, and crushingly depressed, I trudged back to our room. I knew it was over, and I knew I had to free myself of him, and I silently rehearsed what I planned to say to him. Dully surprised not to find him when I got back, I undressed, turned out the light, climbed into bed and fell heavily asleep.
I was awakened when Bob turned on the light and came in - together with Walt. "Here he is." Bob actually sounded relieved.
"What's going on?" I rubbed my eyes.
"We've been looking for you." Walt looked very serious.
"Look for me in the morning, okay?"
"Bob was pretty worried about you. He, uh, he thought you might hurt yourself or something."
I sat up. "What?"
Walt looked embarrassed. "Um, even I could see you'd been depressed all week. It wasn't that hard to believe."
"Trust me, I'm not THAT depressed." Then my heart almost stopped as I wondered what Bob had told him. "Walt, I think Bob and I need to have a little private talk." Walt nodded, giving me one last concerned look, and closed the door on his way out. "Bob, turn out that damn light." Wordlessly, he complied. Then he came and sat next to me on my bed. "Mind explaining this?" Somehow, it was really easy to be angry with him now. Being angry felt good, actually - much better than feeling depressed.
"I'm sorry. Maybe 5 minutes after you left, I thought about how you had sounded so final when you left. Then I realized I'd never seen you cry." He started to sniffle himself at this point. "Then I thought how I'd feel if you didn't come back. So I ran after you, but I couldn't find you."
In a very unfriendly tone I asked, "What exactly did you tell Walt?"
"I told him we'd had a fight and you'd seemed upset and I was afraid," he hesitated here, and his voice caught, "afraid you'd do something to yourself."
"And he BELIEVED this?"
"Um, I was already crying, so I kinda had trouble explaining it, but I didn't tell him anything." That was pretty incoherent, but I guessed I knew what he meant, and he seemed so woeful that it blew my anger away, even though I realized this was just probably just another visit from Dr. Jekyll.
I sat up and took both of his hands in mine. In the dark, we could hardly see each other, but I looked into his eyes anyway. "Bob, you haven't hurt me THAT bad. But I can't take this any more either. Tomorrow morning, we're going to talk to the Master and get new room assignments."
"Don't do that. Please." He reached his other hand over and touched me on the stomach. I immediately got hard. Yeah, he was definitely Dr. Jekyll again.
"No." I removed his hand. "I can't take this any more. We'll just have sex and then you'll be mad at me again, and I'll be just as hurt as I was before. I have to stop this to protect myself."
"I'm sorry," he was crying again, "I just don't know what to do. I . . . tried . . . so hard." He paused here. "I never meant to hurt you," he whispered at last. He tried to climb into my lap, and - my own resistance being limited - I opened my arms and let him in. He sat across my lap, rested his head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arms around him. He still had on his coat and shoes, while I was just in my underwear, so it was pretty weird.
"It's okay." I felt him snuggle closer. "But this doesn't change anything, you know."
"It just scares me that I want this so much."
"I want it too, Bob, but I want it all the time. I can't be your punching bag when you decide you have to prove you're not a fag after all."
"I think I can stop doing that."
This was really hard. "Bob, I want to make love to you very much right now, but I know if I do, you'll hate me again when we're done - maybe worse than ever - and my emotions will get lifted up and smashed down again, and I've been through enough tonight."
I felt his hand slide down my abs towards my crotch. "I'll be good." I felt him kiss me wetly on the side of my neck. "I'll do whatever you tell me - just don't push me away."
"That's pretty rich coming from someone who'd spent the last two weeks pushing ME away. How do you think I felt?" I was getting angry again, and my hard-on started to go away.
"It hurt me too, Davy. I'm sorry." That surprised me. It hadn't occurred to me that he'd been hurting himself too. "Several nights I really wanted to go to you so you didn't have to do that alone, but I kept telling myself I could make myself be straight if I'd just put up with a little pain."
"So you'll do whatever I tell you from now on - even right after you cum?" His hand found the elastic waist of my shorts. I didn't try to move it.
"I will." He got a finger under the elastic and touched my cock.
My resolve collapsed. "Okay, get naked before I change my mind." He laughed his light little laugh and stripped swiftly. I tossed my shorts onto the floor. I knew this was a mistake, but I had to have him.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Get the Vaseline and then get on your back." He complied cheerfully, and I spread his legs and entered him carefully, but without difficulty. Once again, I kissed him, and once again I felt that wonderful fulfilled feeling - tinged with a bit of dread.
"This feels so nice - I wish we could just be like this forever."
I started slowly pumping him, "Me too."
I kissed him again, and kept my tongue in his mouth while I made love to him. Only when I spent my load inside him did I sit back up, still leaving myself lodged inside him.
His cock was still hard, and I started stroking it.
"Maybe that's not a good idea."
"Because you always freak when you cum?"
"Yeah. Maybe I just shouldn't cum."
"Sooner or later you'll just j/o alone and then you'll feel just as bad." I kept stroking. "This way, at least I know it's coming."
"I haven't cum in ten days now."
"That's not a serious solution. I'd feel bad if I didn't make you cum too." Now that I'd cum, I wasn't so keyed up, and I was already feeling a bit resentful. "You know, you don't deserve a nice guy like me."
At this point, he shot on himself, and I let him finish. Then I looked at him closely. He didn't say anything.
Almost sarcastically, "still happy we did this?" I took a finger and started rubbing his cum around on his stomach. I felt my cock give a post-orgasmic pulse inside him. He started, but made no attempt to get up. More softly, "still think you want to belong to me?"
He sighed, then looked up at me. "Yes," he seemed to struggle with himself, "it's what I want. I don't want to want it, but it's what I want. I really do want it all the time - I wanted it all week. It just scares me."
I was very surprised. Where was Mr. Hyde? "Really? What changed?"
"Instead of fighting it, I'm trying to go with it. I'm telling myself, 'I AM a fag.'" He paused and took a deep breath, "I'm a queer. I'm a cocksucker. I'm a pansy." This was really painful to listen to, but I wasn't sure what to say. "I DO like to suck cocks. I like to swallow cum. I like being fucked." Then he added, "Although your dick is hurting me a little bit right now, to be honest."
I gently pulled myself out of him, then rolled him onto my shoulder again. "Snuggle up to me." He obeyed. "Does it really help to call yourself names? It sounds awful!" I tried to remember if I'd ever said things like that - even to myself.
"Well, right now I'm thinking something better." He sounded coy.
"Oh, what's that?"
"I belong to Davy. I love Davy. I don't want to lose Davy." His voice cracked on that last and his breathing got ragged. I felt wetness on my naked shoulder and realized he was probably crying silently. Very softly, he whispered, "I know you deserve someone better."
"Shhh, I'm sorry I said that." I thought for a moment. "I love you too, Bob," and as I said it I really did feel a pulse of pure, warm love run through me. "I really do." I squeezed him tight. We lay there together quietly for a while and I listened while his breathing gradually returned to normal. I kissed him softly on the cheek and he made a soft, happy sound. "I think we can make each other very happy. Let's do that, okay?"
Muffled, sleepy, "Okay."
Even though my bed was really too small for two, I pulled the sheet over us, and we went to sleep in each other's arms. The only thing disturbing my happiness as I dropped off to sleep was the realization that if he was Mr. Hyde again in the morning it was going to be really terrible.
--To be continued.