You May Have Met Him

by Sebastian Carter

  “Don’t say anything!” Anderson shushed Jason, pressing his face into his shoulder in a way that would’ve made it impossible to respond anyway. “Whatever it is I did, I’m really sorry, Jason. Just please don’t be mad at me––I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

  Anderson pulled away from Jason, looking him squarely in the face. “What?” Jason said confusedly, unable to form any thoughts to give the other a proper reply.

  “What do you mean, what? I’m sorry for upsetting you!” Anderson pouted and stepped back, and suddenly Jason felt like he could breathe again. Anderson continued with his worried tirade. “I don’t know what I did, but I figured because you’re obviously avoiding me I must’ve done something to––”

  Jason stared at the man in front of him, still trying to collect himself after the sudden embrace. After not seeing the other for such a long time, worried and wringing his hands in that familiar way that he always did when he was apologizing, it hit Jason how much he had missed the guy. He took a breath.

  “I’m not mad.”

  “Yeah, so I thought that––wait, what?” Anderson stopped, looking up at Jason abruptly. “You’re not?”

  Jason laughed. “No, I’m not. I was just… dealing with some stuff.”

  “I could’ve helped you, why didn’t you tell me you were having problems"

  “No, Andy. It wasn’t something you could’ve helped me with. I needed to be alone with my thoughts for a while, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”

  Anderson pursed his lips, worried expression still not leaving his face. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m sure. Can we please just leave it?” Jason snapped, pushing past Anderson and collapsing heavily onto the couch.

  He leaned back, throwing his feet up onto the coffee table and taking out his phone to scroll absentmindedly through his notifications. Anderson joined him after a moment, perched stiffly on the other end of the seat as if sitting any closer to Jason would set him off somehow. After another awkward moment, Jason clicked his tongue and looked up at Anderson, who quickly whipped his head away to stare at the far wall. Hah. As if Jason hadn’t already noticed the sidelong glances the other kept giving him every two seconds. “Dude. Stop being so awkward. I can’t relax if you sit there like I just drowned your kitten or something.”

  Anderson jerked and smiled apologetically, “Yeah, sorry… I was kinda doing that, wasn’t I?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, a bit.”

  Anderson had taken a more comfortable position on the couch and turned his attention to the television. After a moment, Jason went back to his phone, content to let their conversation die. However, in a room silent save for the sound of their steady breathing, he quickly found himself growing restless and stealing contemplative glances at Anderson’s relaxed form. The other man didn’t notice, too absorbed in the screen in front of him.

  Jason wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for when he searched the man’s stoic features. Maybe some sort of spark of forbidden attraction, or maybe a trace of festering guilt that had somehow managed to escape through the cracks of his mind. He didn’t find it, though, and he was happy with that. It meant that whatever strangeness he’d come in touch with was just a farce, a trick, and that he could finally go back to leading a comfortable life, hopefully with his dorky roommate in tow.

  Suddenly, an idea popped into Jason’s head, and he reached out with his toe and poked Anderson in the side with a “Hey. Hey. Listen.”

  The other grumbled and swatted his foot away, eyes still focused on the TV. Jason poked him again. “Hey.” And again. This time, Anderson grabbed his ankle and lifted his foot up in the air, causing Jason to lose his balance and fall back against the armrest of the couch, all the while glaring daggers. “What?”

  “I just had an idea. That’s all,” Jason said in a strained voice, trying to free his leg from Anderson’s grasp. The man raised an eyebrow. “What sort of idea? It better be a pretty damn good one, otherwise there’ll be consequences for interrupting my show.”

  Jason huffed and yanked his leg back, pulling it into his chest and propping his chin on his knees. “I just wanted to know if you’d be alright with me throwing a party here, is all,” he mumbled, his words muffled by the fabric of his sweatpants. “Thought it might be kinda cool if you could meet my friends, too. They’re pretty chill.”

  At Jason’s suggestion, Anderson turned his attention fully towards him, thumbing at the remote to turn down the volume on the television. A thoughtful expression flickered across his features for a second before replying, “If you’re sure it’ll be okay. I’m not against it, but I don’t want to cause any trouble,” he said, tugging at the collar of his shirt and grinning sheepishly.

  “Great,” Jason grinned and immediately took out his phone and started tapping away to his friends. He looked up after a second and added, “Oh yeah, I was thinking about having it tonight. Is that cool with you?”

  Anderson floundered for a second before shrugging and replying, “Can I help with anything? I’ve never actually been to a college house party, so I don’t really know what it’s like…”

  “You’re kidding,” Jason gaped at Anderson’s confession, his mouth dropping open in an unsightly fashion before breaking laughter. When Anderson bit his lip and scratched the back of his head, looking off to the side awkwardly, only then did Jason’s laughter begin to quiet down. He squinted at Anderson and asked incredulously, “Wait– really? You’re serious?”

  Anderson coughed and blushed, avoiding Jason’s gaze. “Yeah.”

  “You’re not messing with me right now? Someone like you? How does that even happen?”

  “I was busy, that’s all,” Anderson protested, drawing himself in.

  “Okay, okay. That just means we’ll have to make this party a good one,” Jason said with a wave of his hand.

  Taking a moment to think, he typed a number into his phone, bringing it to his ear and grinning. This is going to be great.

  Chapter Eight

  Just like Jason had planned, the party was insane. Lights flashed as bodies weaved and writhed to the heavy bass that thrummed through the room, beating hard and study like the pumping of a giant heart. With the free flow of alcohol loosening up the crowd, strangers were friends and liquid courage became the catalyst in the sparks that flew between bodies, sweaty and electrified by another’s touch.

  Jason, too, had been one of those bodies, but with his buzz fading, he found himself sequestered into one of the darker corners of the room, observing the crowd and taking an occasional sip from the spiked punch in his red solo cup.

  Seeing Anderson emerge from the crowd, Jason called his name and waved an arm to catch his attention. The other made his way towards him, stumbling the last few steps to the wall before catching himself on Jason’s shoulder.

  “Well, what do you think?” Jason shouted over the sound of music blasting from the speakers, his hand clutching Anderson’s shoulder.

  “It’s awesome, Jace,” Anderson gushed directly into his ear, gesturing around wildly with his hands. Anderson lifted his drink to his lips and missed, nearly spilling it onto the ground in the process, clearly already past tipsy and well on his way to being completely drunk. Jason himself felt pretty unsteady on his feet too, but not to that extent. They leaned into each other for support anyway, though.

  Taking another drink from his cup, Anderson added, “I knew party’s were supposed to be fun, but I didn’t know they were like this!” His hand bucked wildly, and this time half of his cup’s contents sloshed directly onto his t-shirt, but in his excited state he didn’t seem to notice.

  Jason threw his head back and laughed at the other’s excitement. “I’m glad to hear that,” he shouted back, unclasping his arm from Anderson’s and gently placing a hand on his upper back and pushing him back towards the crowd. “Go! Have fun!”

  Anderson gave him a cheesy grin and a thumbs up before disappearing back into the throng. Ja
son’s breath hitched involuntarily; the strange fluttering sensation in his ribcage returning at seeing the other man’s smile. He shook himself off and drained the last few drops of his drink, crushing the cup in his hand. The party would be winding down soon, and he should make the most of it while he could.

  What kind of host would he be otherwise?

  Jason felt the couch protest with a creak as Anderson collapsed next to him, the last of the party guests either passed out in various compromising positions around the house or gone, presumably to other parties or back home to sleep off the night’s festivities.

  He felt Anderson’s arm loop around behind him and tensed for a moment before relaxing, too drunk to care about how uncomfortable he should’ve felt. Instead, he sighed and let his head fall back against the other’s arm. “I am going to have the worst hangover tomorrow.”

  Anderson laughed and pressed his thigh into Jason’s, his grip tightening slightly. “Tell me about it,” he said in a low voice, breath fluttering against Jason’s ear. He shivered as a pair of lips ghosted across his neck, so lightly it could’ve just been his imagination. He heard another shaky breath. “God, Jason, the things that you do to me,” Anderson whispered, and this time there was no mistaking the lips on his skin.

  Gasping, he turned his head to look into the dark, lustful eyes that were way too close to his face, his heart beat so quickly it felt like it might jump out of his chest. His eyes flicked down to Anderson’s lips, and he whispered back, “What do I do to you, exactly?”

  The dim lights caused shadows to dance across their skin, and suddenly the air between them was on fire and he needed to touch, to feel the man in front of him, never mind that this was Anderson, his roommate, his very male roommate that was slowly dragging his hand down Jason’s chest, feather-light and oh-so-careful. “What do I do to you, Anderson?” Jason repeated, slowly threading his fingers into the other’s shirt. His mind was hazy, whether from alcohol or arousal, he wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t wanted something like this in a while.

  Anderson’s hand brushed his thigh and he twitched, letting out a slight moan. Anderson fixed with a smoldering gaze, and Jason only had a second to react before the man growled, “You drive me insane, Jace,” before a pair of lips slammed into his, and all doubts flew out of his head as if they had never been there in the first place.

  The other’s mouth was hot, tasting of spiked punch and liquor and just a hint of something sweeter, fruitier. Throwing all caution to the wind, he shifted from his sitting position and threw a leg over Anderson so he was sitting on top of him, mouths still attached. He ran one hand down the Anderson’s chest and snaked the other into his hair, pulling roughly. The other groaned into the his mouth in response, and fingertips inched up the inside of Jason’s thigh, palming across the sensitive skin of his clothed arousal.

  Anderson’s tongue flicked across Jason’s lips and he parted them in permission, pulling away slightly to suck in a frenzied breath before diving back in, sucking wetly on the new addition to the inside of his mouth. Both hands had long since tangled themselves in Anderson’s messy locks, and he took pleasure in the heat the coursed through him with every sound his tugs elicited from the other.

  Hands were touching him everywhere, and he felt as he would explode, his lack of experience only adding to his arousal. And then Anderson’s lips were no longer pressed against his, instead trailing down his neck until they reached his collarbone, where they sucked and nipped at the his neck, desperate to mark the exposed patch of skin.

  Pulling away, Anderson slid both hands up to Jason’s thighs and squeezed. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he said breathlessly, his eyes wide and lips swollen red from abuse. Jason shrugged and grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing their faces together once more.

  “I can’t believe it either,” he said, before closing his eyes and diving back into the abyss that was Anderson.

  He couldn’t think, not with the alcohol coursing through his blood and taste of Anderson on his lips, he couldn’t do anything but feel. It felt like a dream––a strangely good dream, one that he would never have permitted himself to have if he were sober––but even good dreams had to end at some point.

  It ended abruptly when Jason realized that the thing that was poking into his leg was Anderson’s dick, and this wasn’t some sort of game, and he was making out with his roommate on the couch in their shared living room. His eyes shot open with horror at the sudden realization. “No, wait-Anderson- stop!” he shouted hoarsely, pushing the man away and standing on shaky legs, unable to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

  Just like two weeks ago, he felt himself uncomfortably aroused by the same man, except this time, it wasn’t something he could keep to himself. He had literally had a full-out make out session with his very attractive, very gay roommate/best friend. Anderson looked at him in confusion, furrowing his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

  Jason spluttered, “What’s wrong? Everything’s wrong. This- this wasn’t supposed to happen. In fact, forget this ever happened.”

  “What?” The outrage in Anderson’s voice was evident, a flash of angry hurt appearing in his eyes. “Why?”

  “Because- because-” he searched for words, panicking and wanting nothing more than to run away, “-because this is wrong. Because I’m not gay. Forget about it,” he settled on, becoming more and more frantic by the second.

  “What? Forget about it?” Anderson hissed, rising to his feet, now clearly pissed.

  “Yes, that’s what we have to do. You made me do this, you know. I’m not gay. I have a girlfriend,” Jason said defiantly, stepping away from Anderson and putting out his hands to prevent him from coming any closer.

  “I didn’t force you to do anything! What the hell?” Anderson yelled, drawing himself up to his full height, and Jason couldn’t help but tense up noticing how much taller the other was than him. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t decided to be so fucking flirty. Who gave you the right to act that way around me?”

  “How can you even blame this on me? You could’ve stopped at anytime! I wasn’t flirting with you at all!”

  Jason scoffed and pointed an accusing finger at the man, backing away further. “Forget it. This is your fault. I’m not gay, so this is your fault. You took advantage of me,” he added weakly before turning and running to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving the other to fume by himself.

  His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his body and his stomach bubbled dangerously, threatening to bring vomit crawling up his throat and out onto the carpet. He struggled to breathe, clutching himself around his middle with shaky hands. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t gay. It had to be a dream.

  He stood in the dark for what seemed like hours but could’ve been minutes, letting his heartbeat slow and his heavy breathing settle down to a more regular rhythm before slumping exhaustedly onto his bed. Deciding that thinking about it too hard with a muddled brain was probably not going to help him anyway, he did what he did best and locked it all away for later, closing his eyes. He could always deal with it another day.

  Chapter Nine

  Saying the next few weeks were awkward would be an understatement. For Jason, they were unbearable. The morning after the incident, Anderson had tried to confront him about the previous night, but Jason had ignored him and run back into his room with his metaphorical tail in between his legs, staying there until he heard the definite click of the front door as Anderson left for work.

  Anderson had tried to confront him a couple more times after that, but still unready to face up to himself and his feelings––Jason was NOT gay, and would never believe otherwise––but that was beside the point. He developed a sort of routine skirting around the other man, coming home late only after he was sure Anderson was sleeping and leaving in the morning before the other was awoke.

  He spent a lot of that time with Rebecca, desperately engaging in everything from ha
nd-holding to frantic unsatisfying fucks in the backseat of his car, diner bathrooms, anywhere they could. Rebecca seemed pleased by Jason’s sudden desire to engage in these types of activities, but was ultimately disappointed by how he failed to get it up no less than half the time.

  Jason came home every night feeling more and more frustrated with himself, his irrational anger towards Anderson growing every time he noticed traces of the other around their apartment. His apartment. He couldn’t exactly kick Anderson out, not when he was too busy trying to prove his sexuality to himself to even look the man directly in the eye.

  Unfortunately, he knew he couldn’t avoid the inevitable conflict forever. He’d endeavored to come home late that night, but apparently it wasn’t late enough to deter Anderson from waiting up for him. He shut the front door behind him and quietly slipped of his shoes, keeping the lights off and he tiptoed towards his bedroom.

  “Jason. You can’t keep avoiding me like this,” a voice sounded through the dark, and Jason flinched as the lights in the living room flicked on, revealing a very tired and very frustrated looking Anderson.

  “Uh, yeah I can,” Jason said petulantly, beginning to walk towards his room again.

  A hand shot out in front of him, blocking his progress. “You can’t.” Jason gritted his teeth and looked at the other, trying to ignore the fact that it was the closest that they’d been to each other since the incident. “Move,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing.

  Anderson didn’t budge. “I said, move,” Jason tried again, this time succeeding in pushing Anderson’s arm away from him.

  “We should talk about this,” Anderson persisted, his voice pleading, “Would you at least look at me?”

  Jason felt the familiar beginnings of guilt beginning to form and huffed a breath, refusing to comply with Anderson’s request. “I’m not gay, Anderson. We have nothing to talk about,” he collected himself, letting his frustrated squash the tendrils of guilt, “I never asked to be taken advantage of.”