The following story is an erotic work of gay fiction. If you are not of legal age to read stories of this nature or you are offended by the subject matter contained here do not read any further.
In real life, always play safe.
Comments are more than welcome at lthawk34 at xs4all dot nl
Tyler and Reese
Chapter 1
by Sanboy
Reese's log, Earth date August 24th, 2011. Today I am enroute to my dorm for the first time. Fortuitously, I have been able to save enough of my prized belongings to start my college career without significant incident.
As I'm typing this log, the first thing that springs readily to mind is my laptop. I think the only reason they let me carry it away is that I had encrypted the entire hard drive. I have my college books, thank Cthulhu, and most of my gear like calculator, smartphone et cetera. Too bad I can't apply for a credit card yet at just 17 years of age so I have withdrawn my entire savings this morning.
Those posessionas, and the clothes on my back, will have to do for the three years I plan to be on campus. Why, why why did I have to come out to those troglodytes?! My dad.. he claims he loves me but he couldn't get a friend if he milked a bull. As stupid as the ignoble, ignorant, illiterate, incestuous, illegitimate progeny of parents who belonged to the phylum Insecta. Well, actually grandma was okay, kinda. The only thing my mother can see through the dense fog that permanently infests her cranium is something like 'father does best' so no help in that corner. Why did I have to come out?
They say I am intelligent. I am. It's not really being gifted. We're talking 'a gift', as in the girl from Firefly but without the psychotic wandering around and looking unwashed. It's the way I got my full scholarship, without which I could forget about even setting one foot on campus right now. So why did I descend to the utter stupidity of telling my uh.. biological progenitors (I'm not calling them parents ever again!) that I like guys?! Why? I should have known. Regret is the price you pay for unrealistic expectations. So I now only carry the name Bartowski away, nothing more.
Urgh, now I am getting emotional again. The lady next to me has apparently noticed and is trying to read what I am writing. It creeps me out. Yes lady, I mean you.
Solitude again. A brief look out of the train window tells me two things. One is that the fucking area is still an ugly hick-ridden wasteland and, two, that we're pushing a hundred, judging from the rythm of the supports passing by, so we'll leave this place pretty soon. In my case forever, if I can help it at all.
College then, physics. With any luck, my fellow students will be just as gangly, scrawny and asocial as I am. I could even find a friend! Too bad I can't live in an all-nerd dorm. Maybe if I try to join a fraternity? I am unsure if you need any social graces for that because I don't seem to have any. That's what people tell me at least.
After a prety nice nap of - over three hours! - I check my belongings and they are all there. Good thing. The creepy lady is now messily devouring a sandwich. That brings me to the subject of money again. I'm hungry. I'll have to eat, obviously, but I didn't bring any food and I don't want to spend my cash on overpriced train fare. The entire town is bound to know by now, I can't even return for a summer job I guess. Maybe the Nerd Herd at the Buy More near campus will have me, I'm sure I'd make a killing there. To calm myself down, I read one of my assigned books. Again.
College is three shades of awesome! The buildings, grassy areas in between, architecture, atmosphere... all good. I am in academic heaven, w00t! The dorm is nice too. Pretty basic but that is all I need. Luckily I am not one of those twirly fashion homos so I am content with a simple appartment with the bare necessities. I'll be sharing it with another guy, whose name I spot on the door but don't know anything about. I guess I could check Linkedin...
Nothing. Nor on studentweb or any of the other usual haunts. Tyler's name is on facebook but so are four other guys with the same name. Too bad, he'll turn up soon enough.
I claim the bedroom closest to the rising sun so I won't need an alarm clock. Uhm.. it's not a bedroom, this is my home. I will be studying here, sleeping, reading.. The common area has two dilapidated couches, some chairs in various states of rigor mortis, and a clapped out old TV. A quick check reveals that it does have the ports for my XBOX so I could play Unreal Tournament with my roomie.. if he likes that. When everything is in place in my own room I start discovering the rest of the app. Tiny kitchen, bathroom that you could swing a cat in but only if it was a very patient cat and didn't mind a few nasty cracks to the head.
I'm in the middle of sending a mail to Morgan when I hear sounds at the door. I think the new guy is here. End log.