Dancing on the Tundra

DANCING ON THE TUNDRA by Bert McKenzie Copyright 2010

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

CHAPTER X

The bar was extremely crowded when they arrived. At first, Terry's impulse was to turn and leave, but Dan must have sensed this. "Come on, Greek warrior. Into the fray," he said as he gripped Terry's arm and pushed his way into the densely packed establishment. Terry couldn't believe that a bar would be so busy on a Tuesday night until he started recognizing other theatre majors. This was apparently their hang out, and theatre people loving to party, all descended on the little establishment to drink and celebrate the dress rehearsal. Dan wasn't a theatre major, nor were the other seven guards who had already snagged a large table in the back, but being part of the show they were readily welcomed by the crowd.

The partying was heavy with lots of beer and occasional bouts of song. The juke box had an odd assortment of records which apparently included a remade copy of Al Jolson singing "Swanee." Every couple of minutes or so someone would play it and the entire crowd would break into the number. Even the jocks began to join in. For a time Terry had great fun, singing and drinking with the guys and laughing at their jokes. He even repeated a couple of dirty stories he had heard in high school, which seemed to be well received. But after a while the party began to die down and one by one the people left the table to stagger home. Terry began to worry since he and Dan had come together in Dan's red corvette. Terry had ordered soft drinks and avoided the free-flowing beer, remembering how sick he got at the "La Mancha" cast party. But Dan, who had driven was now totally inebriated and in no condition to get behind the wheel. Terry could always walk home. It wasn't that far. But he had no idea where Dan lived.

As the bar grew empty, he decided it was time for him to leave also. He stood up to go and was grabbed by Dan. "Where you goin', fearless leader?" the man said in a slurred voice.

"It's late, Dan. I've got to go home."

Dan slowly staggered to his feet. "Hokay, I'll drive you there. Where do you live?"

"Really, I can walk."

"No, no, let's go." Dan flung a big arm over Terry's shoulder and together they started for the door. Terry felt Dan lean more and more heavily on him until he was supporting most of the bigger man's weight. They stumbled outside and found their way to Dan's 'vette. The drunken man dug in his pocket and pulled out his car keys.

"Dan, maybe I should drive," Terry suggested.

"Maybe you should," his friend replied, "'cause I'm gonna puke." Terry quickly opened the passenger door and helped Dan to sit with his head between his legs and leaning out into the gutter. As Terry held his friend, the big man began to vomit. In a few minutes he had finished relieving his stomach and sat back in the car seat. Terry closed the door and ran around to climb in behind the wheel.

Taking the keys, he started up the engine. "Where to?" he asked. When he received no answer he looked over to his friend. Dan's head was back and his mouth hung open. He appeared to be asleep or passed out. "Dan, where do you live?" Terry asked, shaking the man.

"I don't remember," the drunk said and fell back to sleep.

"Damn," Terry cursed. He didn't know what to do. He pulled out into the street with a screech and was surprised at the sensitivity of both the clutch and the gas pedal. He slowed the vehicle down and then drove back to his apartment. Pulling up in the lot, Terry turned off the motor, climbed out and ran to get the passenger door. Dan, who seemed to wake up slightly, turned to get out of the car and proceeded to fall out onto the pavement. Terry stood, looking at his new friend, debating whether to let him lie on the concrete, or take some other action. He finally bent down and tried to rouse Dan, getting him to his feet and then guiding him to the stairs.

Once inside, Terry tried to be as quiet as possible. The two men stumbled into the bathroom and Terry closed the door. He sat Dan on the stool and removed his coat, then moistened a wash cloth and attempted to clean the man up. The cold water seemed to revive him and Dan opened his eyes to squint at the light. "Where am I?" he asked.

"Ssh," Terry cautioned, not wanting to wake up Wayne. He then whispered, "You're in my bathroom."

"Good, 'cause I gotta take a piss."

"Here's the toilet," Terry said and turned to leave the room.

"But I can't stand up," the drunk whined.

"Oh for God's sake," Terry growled and came back to help Dan to his feet. He had to continually hold the bigger man so he wouldn't topple over, as well as attempt to reach around and lift the seat. In the process Dan struggled with his zipper, without much success. "Oh, please, no," Terry prayed but Dan didn't seem to even have the coordination to open his pants. Terry finally slipped behind him then reached around the body to unzip the trousers. He reached inside, fumbled with the underwear and then extracted Dan's penis, holding it as if it were his own. "Now, do it," he whispered.

"Do what?" the drunk asked in a slur.

"Pee, God dammit."

"Oh." Suddenly a stream of urine descended into the bowl. When he finished Terry shook the man dry then pushed him back into his clothing and pulled up the zipper. Dan suddenly seemed to be slightly more lucid. "Can I take a shower? I feel gross."

"You can't even stand up," Terry said as Dan leaned heavily against him.

"Can't you help me?" Dan whined again. Terry sighed, then helped Dan to sit on the stool while he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. He then helped his friend out of his clothing and into the tub. Dan slipped and almost fell, causing Terry to grab for him, and getting Terry soaking wet in the process. He finally gave up struggling, kicked off his shoes and climbed into the shower with the big drunk. "You're getting your clothes all wet," Dan said as he leaned against the wall.

"I know," Terry growled.

"Well take 'em off," came the reply as the dark haired man began to slowly slide down the wall to end up sitting in the bottom of the tub. Terry quickly stripped and tossed his wet clothing out onto the tile floor. He then helped is friend back to his feet and assisted him in standing under the stream of water. "Got any soap?" Dan asked. Terry handed him a bar and the big man began to lather himself. He then reached over and began to rub Terry's chest with the soap. Terry took the bar from him and replaced it in the dish, then quickly rinsed them both off and turned off the water. He opened the shower curtain and grabbed a couple of towels to dry them off.

"Where am I gonna sleep?" Dan asked as Terry finally wrapped a towel around his friend's waist.

"You can sleep in my bed. I'll sleep on the couch." He then opened the bathroom door and led his friend quietly to his bedroom. Dan stumbled into the room, pulled off his towel, dropping it on the floor, and fell into the double bed.

Terry was about to cross back to the couch when Wayne's door opened. "You okay?" his roommate asked as Terry stood with his door pushed quickly shut to a crack.

"Yeah," Terry replied.

"I thought I heard voices. You got a girl in there, man?"

"No," Terry answered quickly. "Of course not."

"Then goodnight," Wayne said as he walked down the hall to the bathroom.

"Yeah, goodnight." Terry stepped back into his room and closed the door behind him. Dan was sound asleep on one side of the double bed, his big beautiful body stretched out on its back. Terry quickly slipped on some clean underwear, turned off the bedside lamp, then climbed onto the bed next to his friend, trying to fall asleep while perched on the very edge of the mattress.

Meanwhile in the bathroom Wayne picked up the pants that were lying on the floor and examined them. They were definitely too big for his roommate. Then he spotted Terry's wet jeans lying in a heap by the sink. Wayne snorted to himself. "Why that little fake," he muttered.

Halfway through the night Terry woke from an extremely pleasant and erotic dream. As he slowly realized where he was, he also realized he was being hugged. Dan had rolled over next to him and engulfed him in strong arms in a comfortable embrace. Terry tried to move, to carefully extricate himself from this embarrassing position, but when he moved, Dan moved as well, pulling him tight against the warm body. Terry felt something hard jab his hip. He carefully reached down to move whatever it was and suddenly grasped Dan's erection. Once realizing what it was he let go of it as if his hand had been burned. Dan groaned in his sleep and snuggled closer, moving the erection until it slipped more comfortably against the cleft between Terry's buttocks. Terry tried to take several deep breaths to calm himself and thought about the tundra. He realized that his whole body was trembling. He also realized that he too had an erection.

Terry woke up and realized he was alone. He looked around. The room seemed exactly the same with one exception. When he went to bed last night there was another man sharing it with him. Now the visitor was gone. Terry got out of bed, then suddenly realized that he was naked. He knew he had worn his underwear to bed, but it was gone. He quickly got up and looked around, reaching for his robe, then spotted the white briefs. They were wadded up on the floor next to the bedroom door. He threw the shorts in the hamper and went to his dresser for clean clothes. He then opened the door and stepped out into the living room.

"So who was he?" Wayne asked. He sat in front of the TV set eating a bowl of cereal.

"Who was who?" Terry asked innocently.

"Don't give me that, Mr. I-think-that's-disgusting. I saw his clothes in the bathroom and when I got up this gorgeous guy was just slipping out the front door. Just because I'm not your type doesn't mean you have to play like you're straight."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Terry argued as he stepped into the kitchen to find something for breakfast. "I had a friend from the show sleep over last night."

"'Sleep over'? Teenagers and little kids might 'sleep over.' When it's an adult, it's 'sleep with,'" Wayne retorted.

"It's a double bed," Terry answered back angrily as he returned with a wrinkled apple that had seen fresher days. "He had too much to drink so he spent the night. We both slept."

"Together?"

"Not that way."

"Hi honey, I'm home," a masculine voice called out from the front door. Apparently Dan had left the door unlocked and now entered carrying a grocery sack. Both Terry and Wayne stared at him in surprise. "It was a joke," he said, looking back at them. "I'm sorry. I just ran to the store to pick up some coffee and eggs and stuff. Your 'fridge doesn't have much food in it. I thought I'd fix you breakfast. It's the least I can do for you letting me crash here last night."

Wayne was the first to recover. He jumped up and extended a limp wristed hand. "Hi, I'm Wayne. Terry and I share this little domicile. In fact we share just about everything, although I must say he never told me about you."

"I'm in 'Antigone' with him. My name's Dan Beaumont," Dan said, returning the hand shake.

"Oooh, what a strong grip you have," Wayne cooed as he released his hold on the phys. ed. major.

"Thanks." Suddenly an odd look crept across Dan's face. "Oh, gosh," he stuttered. "Are you gay?"

"Why, yes I am," Wayne said in a high pitched squeal.

"I . . . I didn't mean to . . . I mean I don't want to cause any trouble between . . ."

"Relax, sugar. I'm not his type." Wayne relieved Dan of the sack of food and then sashayed into the kitchen.

"Maybe I better go," Dan said as he backed to the door.

"Dan, I'm not . . . like him," Terry said as he stepped forward. "I'm not that way." He couldn't even bring himself to utter the word.

"Well, it doesn't matter what you are. We can still be friends. But I really better go."

"What about breakfast?"

"You girls go ahead," Dan said as he opened the door and stepped out. "I'll see you at the show tonight." He turned and bolted down the stairs.

Terry turned to Wayne who was standing in the kitchen door, one hand on an out-thrust hip, the other resting delicately on the door jam. "Well thanks a lot."

Wayne opened his eyes wide and batted his long, dark lashes. "What did I do?"

"You scared the hell out of my friend. He's probably the only normal person I've met in the whole theatre department."

Wayne turned and flounced back into the kitchen. Terry stormed into his bedroom, grabbed his books and quickly left the apartment.

Terry suffered through a long day of classes, then hurried home to clean up before the show. There was no sign of Wayne in the apartment, which made him uncomfortable. He wanted to apologize for the argument they had earlier. Terry knew Wayne didn't mean anything. He was just being Wayne. Now Terry would have to live with the guilt until after the show when he might track down his roommate.

As Terry walked into the theatre building he spotted Wayne dressed in a tuxedo and slouching on one of the lobby couches. He made straight for his dark roommate. "Wayne . . ." he began, but the tall thin black man sprang to his feet.

"Terry, guy, how's it hanging?" he said in an exaggeratedly deep and artificially masculine voice. "Hey man, sorry if I gave the wrong impression this morning. Guess I was just tense because it's been so long since I had a woman." He grabbed Terry's hand in a bone crushing grip.

Terry had to laugh at the affected macho stylings. "I'm sorry. I guess I was being asinine."

"No," Wayne laughed, his voice returning to its natural register. "You were being an asshole."

"I just wanted to say . . ."

"Don't say a thing, sugar. Go out there and break a leg tonight. And if you want to bring your straight boyfriend home to 'sleep over,' it's okay by me."

"You're something else," Terry said with a smile.

"I know, but what?"

He then left Wayne to again house manage the show while he went down the hall to the stage door.

Terry crossed the backstage area and descended the stairs to the dressing room. On each station a name had been taped. Terry looked around for his, and finally found it behind a vase with six yellow roses. He was astounded and quickly opened the card. It read, "To the sexiest roommate anyone could want, straight or gay. Break a leg tonight in your first college show. Love, Wayne." Terry could only smile as he again looked at the roses. He couldn't believe Wayne would do such a thing after the fight they had. He sat down and then noticed another envelope. It was from Western Union. He tore it open and read. "WILL TRY TO MAKE IT TO SEE SHOW ON SAT STOP BRINGING SPECIAL FRIEND STOP P." He wondered when he didn't hear from Paula after sending her several letters. Well this explained it. A special friend. Paula had found a boyfriend and was bringing him to the Saturday night show.

"Roses, Michaelson? Got a secret admirer?" Terry turned to see Dan sitting just across from him. Apparently his straight friend wasn't too frightened by Wayne to talk to him.

Terry quickly slid Wayne's card into his shirt pocket. "A girlfriend I went to high school with," Terry lied.

"Funny," Dan said with a half sneer. "I got flowers from your high school girlfriend too." It was then that Terry noticed a single yellow rose in a thin vase by Dan's mirror. "Read the card," Dan said handing it over to Terry.

"I'm glad Terry has a friend like you. Sorry if I scared you this morning. Terry and I aren't lovers. I just sent him the roses because he's a good roommate. Break a leg tonight. Wayne."

"He just . . . I didn't . . ."

Dan took the card back. "Relax, Michaelson. You secret's safe with me."

"But I'm not that way," Terry argued.

"It's cool. Don't get so hung up about it. I just want to know why your roommate wants me to break my leg. Does he think I'm competition or what?"

"Oh no," Terry explained. "Break a leg is theatre talk for good luck."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of several other actors who came in and began applying makeup. Terry sat back and watched while they got ready. The other guards came in, stripped down to their underwear and began applying the body paint. They paired up and helped each other the way Terry had taught them rather than expecting him to do all the work. Everyone except Dan managed to get painted and dressed. "Michaelson, come do this for me," he called.

"You want me to help you, Dan?" Jeff, one of the other jocks asked.

"No, I don't want you to rub your bisexual hands on me. I want Michaelson. He knows what he's doing."

Dan leaned back in the chair and waited for Terry to begin with his damp sponge. He watched Terry through slitted eyes as the young blond deftly applied the body paint to his chest, areas he could just as easily have done himself. Once Terry was finished with his upper body, Dan stood and removed his jeans, then pulled off his undershorts to slip on his dyed jock strap before asking Terry to apply the makeup to his lean, muscular legs. Terry fought hard to keep his hands from shaking. Once the makeup job was finished Dan asked Terry to help him with his costume. Soon everyone was ready.

"Places," the stage manager called.

"Aren't you doing the show tonight, Michaelson?" Dan asked.

Terry suddenly realized he was still dressed. "Oh hell," he cursed and began yanking off his clothes, hoping his body would relax before he pulled off his undershorts. Just as he did, he realized Dan was standing next to him, holding out the robe. "Thanks," Terry said as he slipped it on. They then dashed up the stairs. "My shroud," Terry said in alarm as they stepped toward the stage door.

"Relax. Jeff has it."

Terry slipped onto the shield just as the stage manager cued them. Before he could even react, someone yanked away his robe as someone else threw the thin fabric over him. "Here we go," a voice said and the shield was hefted up into the air. This time Terry could feel the tug of the fabric as it was firmly gripped on the sides by his bearers. They began to move.

"Oh my God, that's Terry," Wayne's unmistakable voice whispered as they crossed the lobby.

Just as the house doors opened, a voice on his right whispered, "Break a leg, Michaelson, if a dead man can do that."

The show ran perfectly without a single flaw. Everyone in the cast took an in-character pose to form a tableau in lieu of actual bows. This was the one moment where Terry was excluded. It just didn't seem right for a dead body to be taking a bow. As soon as the curtain came down, the cast was exuberant. They all ran to the dressing rooms to get out of costumes and makeup so they could hurry off to the opening night party. This was not the regular cast party which had been scheduled for the weekend. It was just a chance to drink and unwind at an actor's house. Terry felt oddly out of place, like not being a real cast member, so he decided and went home instead.

He was sitting on the couch watching Johnny Carson when the phone rang. It was Wayne. "Where are you, man?"

"I'm home. That's obviously where you called," Terry replied. He could hear music and lots of voices in the background. "Where are you?"

"I'm at Chet's. Aren't you coming over?" Chet was the man who played Creon.

"No, I don't think so."

"Well why the hell not?"

"I'm tired," Terry lied. "I think I'll just go to bed."

"Like hell you will. Get your little lily white ass over here."

"No," Terry said firmly. The line clicked off. Now he must have offended Wayne and he hadn't even thanked him for the roses. He felt like such a fool. What would it have hurt to go over to Chet's for a couple of beers. No, Terry had made up his mind. He stood up, turned off the TV and went to his bedroom.

He pulled off his clothes and climbed in bed. The image of Dan kept running through his mind. Dan leaning back in the chair, letting Terry sponge the reddish liquid onto his muscular torso. The way the red drops beaded up on his chest hairs until Terry massaged the color onto the golden skin beneath. Then the thought of Dan's full, rounded jock strap appeared before his eyes. His hands could feel Dan's body heat as he rubbed the paint on those well formed thighs. Terry realized that his body had again responded to his fantasies. He was excited and aroused. He got out of bed, removed his underwear and climbed back between the white sheets.

He reached down and began to masturbate when a sound reached his ears. It was the front door. Wayne must have come home awfully early. He probably had another guy with him. Then Terry heard whispered voices and someone hissing for silence. This confirmed his suspicions. Terry pulled the sheet up to his neck and leaned back on the pillows. His interest in physical release only increased at the thought of what would be going on in the next room. Part of him was disgusted by the image of two men coupling. Yet another part of him was jealous. He was gradually beginning to realize that he enjoyed thinking of naked men. Tears began to run down his cheeks as a thought hit him, and hit him hard. He really might be queer.

The bedroom door suddenly slammed open, the overhead light snapped on and several deep voices yelled, "Surprise." Terry sat up, rubbing the tears from his eyes, trying to realize what was going on.

"Look. He's crying. He's so happy to see us," Wayne said. He was standing in Terry's room, with Dan and several other phys. ed. majors who played the guards.

"The light blinded me, making my eyes water," Terry said quickly. "What are you doing here."

"You wouldn't come to the party, so we brought the party to you," Dan said as he hopped onto the bed, still holding a can of beer. A couple of the other guys entered the room carrying a large cooler. "Come on, buddy. Have a brew." Dan shoved a can into Terry's hand.

"I thought you were at the other party. I'm not even dressed," Terry argued, suddenly aware of his nakedness beneath the thin sheet.

"We couldn't party without our fearless leader," Dan chided. "Besides, after hauling your bare ass around the theatre, I don't think we're gonna be shocked by seeing you in your drawers."

"I'm not wearing any," Terry whispered angrily.

"Whoa, this guy sleeps in the raw," Dan shouted, grabbing the sheet and peeking underneath. He and Terry began a tug of war over it.

"Where's the music? You got a stereo?" Jeff and Victor both asked.

"Let's call some girls," someone else suggested.

The party gradually moved out of the bedroom and into the living room. Only Dan and Terry remained on the bed. "I wanted to talk to you," Dan said as he looked at Terry.

"So talk."

"I like you. You're okay. Your roommate's a little weird, but I've never been around gays before. What I mean is, I'm sorry if I kind of freaked out this morning. Okay?"

"Okay, but I'm not . . ."

"Yeah, I know," Dan said with a smile. "You're not a faggot. So get your naked ass out of bed, get dressed and let's party."

"Okay," Terry said with a sigh. "Get out and close the door. I'll be right out."

"Such modesty. I've seen your dick, Michaelson. In fact, I'll see it every night for the rest of this week." Terry shrugged, pulled the sheet aside and jumped out of bed, his back to his friend. He grabbed a pair of jeans and slipped them on as fast as possible, not even worrying about putting on briefs. He then grabbed a T-shirt and the two of them walked out into the living room to join the party, just as several girls arrived.