I woke up around noon with the mother of all hangovers and staggered out to the kitchen. No one else was home. I found some orange juice in the fridge and chugged it. It made me nauseous and didn’t do anything for my headache. I stumbled into the living room and flopped into a chair.
The previous night was a blur, but the longer I sat, the less dizzy I felt. And the more I remembered.
There was Kit, who had flashed his big cock just to tease me. And Chuck and Greg, who made it clear they would like to hook up with me.
Then, with a shock, I remembered fucking Alison, followed by Freddie.
I leaned back in the chair and shouted at the top of my voice, “God-fucking-dammit!”
What the fuck had I done with these two new roommates?
Was I so drunk that I just went along with whatever they wanted to do?
I had to admit that the answer was “yes.”
That realization sent me running to the lavatory near the front door where I threw up, not because I was still drunk, but because I was revolted by what I had done last night.
Wiping my mouth, I tried to get control of myself.
I returned to the chair in the living room and thought back over the whole night. It seemed like every terrible memory blasted into my conscious mind.
I had done a whole bunch of things last night that left me confused, disgusted, shocked, furious, humiliated, and ready to fucking kill somebody.
By contrast, it appeared to be a beautiful day outside, something I’d been told was rare in the Pacific Northwest. The cloudless sky was a brilliant blue, the temperature was in the 70s, there was a warm ocean breeze, and I felt like shit.
I got my jacket and car keys, went out, and just started driving aimlessly. I wanted to get far as away as possible from the horrible reality that I had landed in.
I drove north on the 405. Renton was southwest of Seattle proper, not far from the SeaTac airport. Somewhere along the west shore of Lake Washington, I pulled in to a stop-over.
Across the water, I could see the expensive homes on Mercer Island. The scenery was magnificent. Turning my back to the water, I saw the Olympic Mountains miles to the west, their crests covered white with snow.
I began to evaluate my situation.
Here I am in one of the most beautiful fucking places I have ever seen. I am about to start my first job since college and grad school—one that I hoped would challenge my skills and also pay me well.
And what the fuck did I do on my first night here?
I let a new roommate, a person I have only just met, take me out to a gay bar.
I let a horse’s ass with a big dick fuck with my head.
I meet two very gay guys who let me know they’re up for anything.
I. . . (here I had to stop and choke back some tears) I. . . had sex with a woman for the first time in my life, and I hope it was also the last.
Then I had sex with another roommate, also a complete stranger. Why? I guess to prove to myself that I was still gay!
What a fucked-up life! What a shitty fucking place! What the fuck had I gotten myself into?
I felt like crying, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to do it out here in public. I got back in the car and drove around at random.
Somehow, without even knowing how to find it, I was shocked to realize that I was pulling up in the parking lot of The Gaiety Bar and Grill—the very place where it all began last night.
It was around 3 PM, and there were a handful of cars in the lot. As I shut off my engine and sat bewildered, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular, a car pulled into the space to my right. I glanced over and almost choked. Shit! It was Greg and Chuck.
I sank down in the seat and looked the other way, hoping they wouldn’t notice me, but they had already identified me. They jumped out of their car and hurried around to the driver’s side of the convertible. I was glad I had the top up, because it gave me a bit of distance, if I was going to have to talk to them.
They stood outside my window, smiling like we were old friends. They looked confused when I didn’t respond to their gestures and smiles.
Seeing that they weren’t going to go away without speaking with me, I lowered the window and looked out at the two of them. I tried to appear neutral, even cordial, but inside I was seething with anger and resentment.
“Hey, Bruce! How ya doing, buddy? That was quite a night we had, eh?” Greg was effusive, but I glared at him with suspicion and resentment, even though I couldn’t prove that they had anything to do with the shit that happened last night.
“OK, I guess,” I said, trying to keep my voice flat.
Chuck tried, “You got home all right with Alison?”
“Oh, yeah, we got home.” My voice was now dripping with sarcasm.
Chuck furrowed his brow, turned and looked at Greg, and then leaned down and rested his elbows on the window sill. Greg crowded in, too.
“What happened? Is something the matter?” Chuck asked.
Greg added, “You don’t look too happy today. What’s up?”
“I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind,” I began, and then turned away from them so that they wouldn’t see the tear forming in my eye.
Greg noticed the tremor in my voice. “Bruce, are you OK? Did something happen last night after you left?”
Turning on him in fury, I snarled, “You know goddamn well what happened—and you were both part of it.”
The looks of shock and concern on their faces told me that I might have it all wrong.
“Part of it? Part of what? What the fuck happened?” Greg demanded, worried.
“I’d rather not discuss it. . . besides, I’m pretty sure you already know.”
With a voice that sounded sincere, Chuck said, “Look, Bruce, whatever the hell happened to you last night, I guarantee we don’t know anything about it.”
I thought about that for a moment. Could I be mistaken? There was no doubt in my mind that my two housemates had taken liberties with me. Kit was a jerk, so maybe he was just being Kit and not part of what happened later. I had to admit that the case against Greg and Chuck was kind of weak. I had concocted some kind of rationalization that it was all part of a plan to lure me into having sex with Alison and/or Freddie, but I was beginning to realize that I could be wrong.
Taking a deep breath, I turned to face the two guys. “I don’t know what to think. Something shitty was done to me last night, and looking back it appeared to me that you were all in on it. Maybe I was wrong. . .”
Looking shocked and dismayed, Greg protested, “Bruce, I don’t know what the fuck happened to you last night, but I can assure you Chuck and I had nothing to do with it. We just thought you were a nice guy and you were having a good time.”
“Do you feel like you can talk about it?” Chuck said, trying not to pressure me.
I began, “I. . . uh. . .” but then my voice choked and my body shook. That was all it took to put them into action.
“Bruce!” Greg almost shouted, reaching into the car and putting a hand on my shoulder. I slumped forward onto the steering wheel, sobbing.
“Bruce, can we help you out of the car?” Chuck asked with urgency.
“I don’t know. I. . . don’t fucking know.”
“We’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Greg said, opening the car door.
I had to decide—were they a couple of shits who helped lure me into having sex that I now hated myself for, or were they two innocent bystanders who were concerned about me and wanted to help me now?
I took the plunge. “Guys, I’m sorry if I. . .”
They helped me get out of the car and stand up. I was very shaky, no longer from being wasted last night, but from the intense emotions that were surging through me right now. I leaned on the car and looked at the two of them. “I was so fucked up last night. . .”
“We all were,” Greg interjected. “Saturday nights can end up that way.”
“Did you get sick or something?” Chuck asked with solicitude.
“Well, yes, I did, but I’ve been there before, and I know how to handle that.”
“So, something else, then?” this from Greg.
The last thing I wanted to do was to tell them what had happened, but they appeared to be so concerned and eager to help, and something told me that I might feel better if I talked about it with someone.
The tears began, despite my efforts to prevent them. As they ran down my face, I blubbered, “Alison and Freddie. . .”
Greg and Chuck looked at each other, then back at me. They didn’t say anything, but their expressions told me that they knew something they weren’t telling me, so I blurted it all out.
“I had too much to drink. . . and they acted like they. . . liked me. . . and I was a newbie in the house. . . so I went along with whatever they wanted me to do. I know I did it ’cause I wanted to, but now that I look back on it, I feel like shit for doing it.”
Greg stepped close and put an elbow under my armpit. Guiding me without pressure, he said, “Let’s go inside and sit down someplace quiet where we can talk.”
Chuck took my car keys, rolled up the window and locked the car, and followed Greg and me into the bar. It was empty except for a couple of servers and one or two people at the bar, so we sat at a table on the far side of the large room. We ordered iced teas and our waiter seemed to sense that we wanted privacy.
After the drinks came, Greg turned to me. “I don’t want to bad-mouth anybody, given that you just got here yesterday and have to live with them for six months, but I think Chuck and I might have an idea of what happened.”
“Do you?” I asked, hoping that I wouldn’t have to provide all the humiliating details.
“Well, more or less. Those two are actually kind of. . . assholes.”
“They’re a pair of real shits,” Chuck added.
Greg went on, “Would I be wrong to think that, once you got home, some kind of sex took place—sex that you regret now?”
Silent, I nodded and sniffled.
“Well, let me tell you a few things.” Greg cleared his throat. The emotion of the moment was getting to him, too.
“First of all, you didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask for whatever you did with them. Second, this isn’t the first time we’ve heard about the two of them. They are famous for having voracious sexual appetites and few scruples about how they satisfy them. And Bruce, if anything we did. . .” he paused to look at Chuck, who nodded with enthusiasm, “played any part in what happened to you, we are truly sorry.” He took a deep breath.
My voice shook as I reached over and laid one hand on Greg’s and the other on Chuck’s.
“Thank you. . . I mean it—thank you. I have been trying to make some sense out of all the shit that happened, and in my mind, the whole evening was fucked up. That’s why I fell into the trap of believing that Kit’s flashing his dick at me, and the two of you being all friendly, and all that I drank, was all part of the plan to. . . fuck me.”
“Who fucked you?” Chuck asked with true apprehension in his voice.
“Both of them,” I said, shaking my head at the memory of what I had done.
“At the same time?” Greg asked.
“No, Alison first, then Freddie.”
“Alison?” Chuck said with surprise. “Pardon me if I’m wrong, but I thought you were gay.”
“I am. . .” I said, choking up again. “She’s the first woman I was ever with. She had been so nice to me that I didn’t want to say no.”
They both nodded. “And Freddie?” Chuck asked.
“He came in as I was leaving Alison’s room. I was kind of in shock over what I had done, and he was so sympathetic. . .”
“And then you had sex with him, too.”
I nodded, sobbing. Both men moved closer to me and put their hands on my shoulders. They waited in silence until I got control of myself.
“Bruce, we’re so sorry this happened to you. It not only sucks that a nice person like you had this happen to him, but also because those two bastards did a number on you, and we didn’t even think to warn you or try to keep you away from them.”
“It’s not your fault,” I assured them. I stood up, and they followed. I pulled them into a group hug and clung to them.
“I’m sorry I doubted you. . .” I began.
“Perfectly natural. I would have thought the same thing,” Greg said.
We all wiped our eyes and looked around. Although there were very few people in the bar, they were all staring at us. Greg and Chuck closed ranks around me, hiding me from the general view. We took a moment and composed ourselves. Taking a last drink of our iced teas, we walked outside.
Standing by the cars, Greg said to me, “What do you think you’re you going to do now?”
I looked at him with a bleak expression. “I haven’t given it any thought. I don’t see how I can go back there and live with them like nothing happened.”
“I don’t think you can,” Chuck agreed.
After a thoughtful pause, Greg said, “Bruce, this may be the wrong thing to say, but if you need a place to stay for a while, and if you don’t think we were part of what happened to you, you would be welcome to crash with us. We have a spare room with a bath, and we promise we’d stay out of your way as much as you need.” Chuck nodded but said nothing.
I looked at them for a long moment, thinking about their offer. Without a doubt, I needed to get out of the place I was in, and it seemed like it would be better to be with other people, rather than checking into a hotel room alone. I was now convinced that they were telling the truth about their involvement, and I believed in their sincere concern for me.
I swallowed hard and said, “If it’s not too much trouble, at least for a while, I’ll take you up on your offer.”
They both grinned, and we joined in another three-way hug. They both kissed me on the cheek at the same time. Then we stepped back and shook hands.
“So, what’s the plan?” Chuck inquired, looking at both of us.
“Are you already all unpacked at the apartment?” Greg asked me.
“No. Fortunately, I just brought one suitcase with me yesterday. I sent some boxes ahead, and they’re all stacked up in my room.”
“Well, then, I think the best approach is to go over there right now and get your shit out and into our house, and we’ll be as quick and quiet as possible.”
Chuck chimed in, “and if any of them are home, one of us will corral them out of the way while the other helps you load up the cars. Do you think everything will fit in two cars?”
“Oh, sure. There isn’t that much. I sold just about everything I owned before I left Stanford.”
With that, they put the plan into action. Greg got into the convertible with me, and Chuck followed in their SUV. When I unlocked the front door, I held my breath as we entered in silence. Looking around, I saw that Alison’s and Freddie’s doors were shut.
“Maybe they’re all out somewhere,” Chuck said, reading my mind, and I nodded with a grin.
The three of us moved with purpose, getting my suitcase packed, and all the boxes were loaded into the cars in under five minutes.
I went back into the house for one final check, and Alison opened her door.
“Going somewhere?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“As far from this shithole as I can get.”
“With those two poofters? You’ll fit right in with them.”
I stared daggers at her and, to my surprise, she paled, stepped back, and shut and locked the door of her room. I threw my house keys on a table and slammed the front door as I left.