Off Campus (23 page)

Oh shit.

Guilt battered his head down. He braced his elbows on his knees and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. God, this was why Reese shouldn't be anywhere near him. How could he have worried Reese's biggest problem with going to a frat party would be not fitting in?

He didn't look up, not even when Reese walked over to him and rubbed his shoulders.

“You can go out without me. You should have some fun.”

“Yeah, a frat party isn't exactly my idea of fun these days either. No way.” He pushed the top of his head against Reese's hip. All he wanted was to stay here in their room, never leave it. And fuck the rest of the world if they didn't understand.

“Well, fuck. We don't have to party.” Cash kept pushing. He'd obviously set himself a mission and Tom knew he could dig his heels in and out-stubborn a toddler. “Come back to my room. I can kick your ass in GTA.”

Suddenly the simplicity of Grand Theft Auto, of stealing cars and smashing shit up, was incredibly appealing. He lifted his head.

Cash grinned at him.

“Chicken.
Bawk bawk bawk.
”

“God, you
are
a toddler.”

He looked up at Reese, who didn't seem to be mad and was stroking his shoulder.

“Come with.”

That
got a reaction.

Reese jerked his head back and frowned. He shifted his weight and looked over his shoulder at Cash, who shrugged.

“Do you play?”

“I'm a guy, aren't I?”

“What do I know? Maybe you been too busy looking for magic fucking buttons to play video games,” Cash snapped out, the exact same way he'd have given Tom shit for saying something stupid.

Reese cracked up, blowing any remaining tension out of the room with gusts of laughter as his eyes streamed tears and his face turned pink. Tom watched, lips twisting at the edge of a smile, fascinated.

“Magic,” Reese tried to gasp the words out between laughs, hair falling in his eyes, “Fucking. Button.”

Which set him off again.

Eventually the giggles trailed off into hiccups and Reese could breathe again. He sighed.

“Ah, shit. That was the funniest fucking thing I've ever heard come out of a straight guy's mouth.”

Everyone in the room froze, waiting to see who was gonna jump on that one.

Cash broke first.

“I'm not saying nothing. You coming or what?” He winced and raised a hand. “I know.”

Reese bit the edge of his lip between his teeth, considering.

“Okay.” The smile that broke out over Tom's face was pretty goofy but he didn't stop himself. Reese winked at him. “I can always watch porn on my phone if you guys are boring.”

“Porn! We can watch that.” Cash bounced on the edge of the mattress.

Reese raised an eyebrow.

“Ahhh, right.” He wrinkled up his nose. “No chicks in yours, huh?”

Reese reached down to snag Tom's hands and pull him off the bed.

“Not a one. Plenty of magic fucking buttons, though,” he tossed over his shoulder as he grabbed his bag and headed out the door, leaving Cash standing in the middle of their room.

“Dude. That's kinda gross.”

He bumped Cash with his shoulder. Jerked his head toward the open door.

Cash waited a moment, shrugged and followed Reese down the hall.

This was going to be interesting.

Chapter Thirteen

Cash's crush on Reese was complete within two weeks.

Tom figured it was a combination of Xbox and the time they'd bumped into a girl from Reese's Philosophy of Religion class in the mailroom. She'd begged Reese to help her hit on some guy at the other end of the crowded room. Tom had been antsy in the crowd, head down and eager to get out of there, but Reese had taken one look at her Tuesday morning T-shirt and ponytail and said, “Shit, girl, you
know
you're gonna bump into him if you leave the dorm looking like a nun. You need some tits.”

He had his hand down her shirt two seconds later, doing something twisty with her bra that magically transformed it into a push-up while she held her hands up and giggled. Then, while Tom and Cash watched in awe, he actually reached into her bra cups and plumped up her boobs until she looked like Anna Nicole Smith from the neck down. He pulled her ponytail holder out, finger combed her hair, rimmed her eyelashes with a stick of black eyeliner he snagged from his bag, and gave her a shove toward her prey.

“Go get him.”

“Thanks, baby!” she called out over her shoulder, a new sway in her hips.

“I love you, man,” Cash said and yanked Reese into a tight squeeze, his face smashed up against Cash's massive chest. “That was
awesome
. I want to hang with you all the time.”

Tom flinched and stepped forward, sure Reese was two seconds from struggling to get away, when his friend jumped back from his boyfriend as if jolted by a cattle prod.

Cash spun toward Tom, jaw dropped, eyebrows wrinkled up.

“He grabbed my ass!”

Tom laughed out loud, forgetting for a moment that the streams of students breaking and splitting around them, intent on their mailboxes, might swirl into a circle of whispering, staring strangers. Most of these kids were probably freshmen hoping for the slip of paper in their mailbox that meant a care package from home was waiting at the pick-up window. He hadn't gotten anything but bills and ironic credit card offers in his mailbox yet this year.

“Can you blame him?” His smile stretched his face in ways that felt broken in a public space.

Cash cocked his head to one side. Nodded.

“Good point. Dude, my ass is
fine
.”

They became a twisted Three Musketeers of video games (it turned out that Reese was a fucking master of Call of Duty, saving both their asses on multiple occasions when they were pinned down and about to be shredded) and bad porn jokes. Cash had an affectionately touchy-feely thing going on with Reese, always giving him hugs and noogies, as if he'd adopted him as a mascot or little brother who killed it on the Xbox and had a secret password to the inner realms of girlworld. Tom had finally confessed to Reese that he wasn't going to visit friends on the weekends, but rather to work. In the meantime, he was startled to hear that Cash and Reese had gone on a major twelve-hour campaign while he was making his thousandth trip through the tunnel to Logan. His boy and his best friend had clicked.

It was strange, but it worked.

After Thanksgiving, Reese showed up back on campus with the latest first-person shooter, still pissed at Tom even as he showed him their new toy.

Tom knew it would take more than an enthusiastic response to a video game to smooth things over between them. Reese had been livid when Tom refused to come home with him for the holiday, or even show up for the meal. He knew Tom wasn't celebrating with family and didn't understand why he'd choose to spend four days driving a cab instead of spending time at the Anders' house.

Tom flinched at the memory, knowing he was jumping up and down on thin ice when it came to the things he hadn't told Reese yet. Reese thought he was driving a cab for spending money or maybe to cover some room and board. Despite knowing the risks and what he needed to do, Tom had shaved hours off his driving time lately, telling himself he could make up the hours over the weeks of January term. Leaving on Saturday morning or returning to campus earlier, pulled like a magnet to Reese's true north, the consequences were visible in the balance of his savings account.

His chance of earning enough to pay for second semester was always going to be slim, but the skin was hanging off the bones. He was ten grand short and between Thanksgiving, Christmas, January term, and pushing the boundaries of good sense with gypsy cabbing, he might be able to cut a check that wouldn't bounce by the end of January.

If Reese found out he'd “forgotten” to mention he might not be returning to school for the second half of the year, Tom was certain he'd be laid flat by a guy he outweighed by fifty pounds.

So he asked for every detail about Reese's family meal and then hit his knees for a marathon blowjob session during which he tried to torment Reese into accepting his apologies by sucking his brains out through his dick. When those efforts crashed and broke on the rocks of Reese's raised eyebrow and
I'm still pissed
pursed lips, he brought out the serious weaponry.

“Let's go out.”

It took twenty minutes and Tom reading out a complete list of campus activities for that night from the school's app on his phone before Reese believed he was serious.

“So you'll come watch
Rashomon
with me in Chapin?” he asked, referring to the campus auditorium, arms crossed as he stared at Tom.

Shit. At least the lights would be off. Maybe they could get there right as it started and sneak in the back.

“And I don't mean sneaking in the back and making out for the whole movie. I want good seats, so we need to get there early, and you have to pay attention.”

Jesus, it hadn't even occurred to him that making out would be on the table. Tom stiffened his spine, embarrassment at his own thoughts making him defensive. “Why? Is there gonna be a quiz?”

“How about, if you can't give me a plot summary afterwards, I don't blow you until next year?”

Next year was top of the list of things Tom
didn't
want to talk about. He gripped his own nape tight and squeezed, unsure if he was trying to punish or show himself who was boss.

“Fine. But I'm texting Cash. He'll be pissed if we go without him.” And yeah, that was yet another chickenshit move, but if he was doing this, especially if there was going to be making out in public for crying out loud, then he wanted some fucking backup.

Reese narrowed his eyes. “Then I'm calling Steph. It'll be like a double date.” His smile had plenty of teeth.

“Holy shit.”

Introducing those two was deemed safer done in the privacy of their room before the movie. Tom was trying to convince himself that this wasn't the worst idea ever and even Reese looked green around the edges at the idea of what they'd set in motion.

Good call.

Having shown up early—he was staking his claim—Cash winged the first pitch right at Steph the second she walked in the door.

“Are you the dyke?”

He was taking up as much space as humanly possible, his backpack on Reese's bed, straddling Reese's desk chair backwards in the middle of their room, shouting his primacy as amigo numero uno as if he'd peed around them in a circle.

“Jesus, Cash! Shut up, will ya?” Tom shot off his own bed. This was going to be a blood bath and Res Life was not going to appreciate the town police being given a reason to lock up another student.

The leather of Steph's motorcycle jacket creaked as she stopped Tom in his tracks with an open palm and then crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised.

“I got this. No, asshole, I'm bi.”

Was Cash actually cracking gum as he spread his legs wider, practically humping the rails of the chair back?

“Oh yeah? Like bi, or bi-curious because you think it's hot to talk about making out with chicks but mostly you like dick?” Now Cash was the one raising his eyebrows, throwing down in what had somehow become a kind of gay-off between the two of them. “Because
I'
m bi-
curious
maybe, but I ain't never gonna go there.”

“What? You're bi-curious?” Reese's mouth fell open.

“Sort of.” Cash shrugged and wrinkled his forehead. “I mean, you tell me I got a magic button up my ass that'll make me come my brains out, of course I'm
curious
. But I'm never gonna go there, because gross.” He gave an all-over shiver, like a dog shaking off water after a plunge in a pool.

Steph tapped her lower lip with one blunt sparkly blue fingernail. “You know, you don't need to fuck a guy to get your prostate stimulated.”

“See, that's what's wrong with chicks,” Cash scoffed. “They take all the romance out of it. Prostate stimulated. Jeez, that does
not
sound hot.”

“Oh my God.” Tom covered his eyes with his palms. “Can we go now? Please?”

“I'm just saying—” She eyed the big man speculatively as he stood up and shoved the chair back into place at Reese's desk.

“Aw, hell no, bi-girl. You're not getting anywhere near my ass. I can tell you'd be at the dildo store, saying ‘gimme the one that looks like a thermos.'” But he held the door open for her as she ducked under his arm and left their room, arguing about whether Cash should give pegging a try.

“Fine, a couple of fingers.”

“Shut up! Leave my ass alone.”

“I think we've started something, introducing those two,” Reese said and giggled as Tom picked up his backpack.

“Yeah, the grounds for a major sexual harassment lawsuit, probably.” He snapped the light off and grabbed Reese's shirt as he squeezed past. Reese's eyes were huge, glittering with light caught from the fluorescent tubes in the hall. Tom tugged him closer and kissed him, right there in the open doorway, Cash and Steph shouting at them to move their asses or they were gonna be late.

Reese grinned. Forgiveness had been purchased with a heavy dose of potential humiliation, although Tom was now more worried about their friends embarrassing them than being out on campus with his boyfriend. So, that was something.

Reese pulled the door shut.

“Who's suing who? Steph was pretty gung ho. That's my girl.” He bumped his shoulder against Tom and looked up at him through sly, lowered lashes. He winked and the warmth hit Tom right in the chest, a bruise spreading under the skin until the ache throbbed over his sternum.

His chest still ached as they lined up at the student-run concession table, all funds going to support the campus film club. Cash was giving Steph shit about the girliness of her Cherry Coke, which she flipped back on him the instant she heard his order.

“Diet? You got a
Diet
? Counting calories, big guy?”

“Hey, I watch my carbs. Gotta race next week. I shouldn't even be drinking this stuff, it's so bad for you. But it's a movie. I'm allowed a freebie in the nutrition lottery at the movies. But only one, so don't even
think
about putting butter on that popcorn.”

Steph reached up and patted him on the cheek, blue fingernails sparkling, and reassured him that yes, all children got special treats at the movies. Reese leaned against his shoulder hard, smiling down at the floor to hear the two people they allowed into their hermetically sealed bubble negotiate their way to a new friendship too.

The ache mellowed as he hung back, keeping out of the way as Steph and Cash ran into people they knew and were drawn into gossip and complaints about professors who expected students to spend the holiday writing twenty-page papers. Between the two of them they seemed to know the entire campus and Tom wondered what made them both stick so determinedly to him and Reese, the ones who tried so hard to shut everyone else out.

He nodded at another guy he knew from track and kept his head down, hovering near Reese, who was way closer to rejoining the human race than him, and realized how very wrong he was to think his roommate was anywhere near as fucked up as he was. Reese might
act
as if he wanted to hide away from the world, but when it came right down to it, he liked people. He trusted them, at least far enough to speak to them, arguing with Steph and another girl about whether or not their art instructor was hot or kind of weird-looking.

The clock was ticking off the moments until he fucked this up so badly that these last three people who he could count on—because Steph was on his side now, he knew—threw up their hands and just gave up.

The auditorium was crowded with students needing a break from Strunk & White footnoting rules and waiting for interlibrary loans to come through. After a marathon bicker session between Cash and Steph over whether it was worse to sit up close and get a crick in your neck—Cash—or in the back and be unable to see over the tall doofus in front of you—Steph—they compromised by forcing a row of already settled moviegoers to shift seats until four were open in the middle of the auditorium. Tom slunk along the row and flipped the thin wooden seat down, sure every eye in the room was on him. He pulled his ball cap low and slumped in his seat.

Reese sat up straight next to him and put his hand on Tom's knee, giving it a shake. “Remember. Plot summary or no special treats for you.”

Tom groaned and sank farther, wondering if he could slide to the floor and down the slope to the front of the room. He'd end up closer to the exits at least. He should be grateful Reese hadn't said
or no BLOWJOBS for you!
out loud. It was hard to be grateful when you could hear whispering behind you, even though he knew it probably had nothing to do with them.

“Oh look. It's the freaks on a special outing together.” A foot kicked the back of his seat. Hard.

So much for persuading himself not to be paranoid.

Reese hunched his shoulders up to his ears, so Tom knew he'd heard, but their friends were oblivious, arguing about whether samurai were noble warriors or renegade bandit motherfuckers.