Tristan

Tristan by Henry H. Hilliard

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Chapter 19

"Oh my God! That's wild!" Tristan was looking at the CAAD walk-through for the old stable, which was the first portion of the house design to be completed. There, off centre in the long upstairs loft, was a Japanese teahouse. It was actually the bathroom but it gave an oriental first impression by the use of use of shoji screens and lots of natural wood.

"There's no ceiling; it's really just partitioning," explained Ben.

"No door, either," added Ivy.

Indeed the opening was the size of a double door, but it was all so excitingly exposed. Tristan navigated inside.

"The floor is made of teak which, when treated, becomes waterproof. See the gaps? The real floor is a drain, that's why it's raised a step. You can lift the floor in sections if you want to clean it."

"Will it need a lot of cleaning?"

"You'll have to do it once a year if you want it to look nice," said Ben. "The supplier can do it if you don't want to. The internal window here is actually glass covered with rice paper with horizontal timber strips glued on the outside. Inside it forms one wall of the shower. That other wall is just black laminate to break-up the timber a bit. You'll notice there are no ceramic tiles, because I knew you didn't want to be conventional. You can see how big the shower is--it's really a wet room. We can put a half screen around the toilet if you want to--but it might spoil the openness. There are two sinks so two can shave at the same time. You can't see it, but there is a concealed cupboard for towels in the wood panelling.

Tristan navigated back out. "This other screen?"

"This one really is made of rice paper," explained Ivy who was looking over his shoulder. "It slides out to partition the space into two bedrooms, but each still has access to the bathroom because the doorway is so wide."

"That's brilliant!" Ben and Ivy looked at each other and shared a sweet kiss of triumph above the seated Tristan.

"Here, look at the plan," said Ivy, taking over. She pressed some keys.

It was clear now how the space was to be divided. Closest to the old, narrow stairs was an alcove for Tristan's bed. A narrow closet ran behind the centrally placed bathroom along the back wall.

"The ceiling slopes right down there, so the closet is pretty minimal, I'm afraid."

"No, that's fine for students."

On the other side of the bathroom was the bigger space for Colton's bed and the pool table. The closet arrangement was similar.

"We've turned the old loft door into a big window, but we'll still keep the wooden door on the outside which we'll work with a lever or something. That makes it look authentic. There's a tiny new window at the other end above your bed. It just looks over the roof of the house. To save money, the big window is divided horizontally into three sections; a huge single sheet of glass would cost thousands.

"Now, see the new entrance, half way along? If the room is divided, this can be the entry for this end; the old stairs can be for the other end."

"The first thing you see on arrival will be Colt's weight's bench!" laughed Tristan, for there it was, drawn in.

"Well, it needed room around it. The new entrance has pair of glass doors similar in design to the bathroom. There is a little porch at the top of the stairs. We think timber stairs would be nicer than steel ones. They go straight up from the back yard."

"So, there has to be a new little dormer or something built out from the old roof?"

"Yeah. Just a simple flat roof; we didn't want to make it look suburban-Cape Cod."

"Yeah, that's just what I don't want."

They returned to the CAAD view. Tristan noted the plywood lining. The covering battens also added to the Japanese illusion. There were ceiling fans attached to the rafters and little lights. There were two air-conditioners.

"Can anything be done to disguise those? I mean, nothing else is plastic."

"Good point," said Ben. He looked at Ivy. "We'll see. The compressor units are on the ground round the back so you won't see them."

Tristan thanked Ben and Ivy fulsomely. They promised to have the rest of the drawings finished in a week or two. The builders had promised to start in a week's time and they were going to tackle the stable first. Tristan thought he must walk Colton through it to explain it to him.

When Tristan returned to the dorm room, Colton looked up from his phone. "How'd y'get on?"

"Brilliant! You should see what they've got planned for that old loft! The bathroom is all wood and Japanesey."

"The pool table still okay?"

"Yeah, your end is the more spacious and they've placed it next to your bed."

"Great, Tris. The guys will love to shoot pool when they have a few brews. Hey! I think I've got a job."

"You have? Not at Nonno's?"

"Nah, Dr Baddeley phoned and wants to see me. It's a job until the football season starts again--maybe longer. I'm to see her tomorrow."

Colton waited after his Calculus lecture for Dr Baddeley to finish with her morning surgery. The job was one in health promotion and Colt would work with a student team as well as staff from the clinic. Their clients would be the student population at large.

"Why me?" asked Colton bluntly.

"Because you're a name here-- the starting quarterback. The students look up to you. Then you became a member of the GSA--that was brave. And because I think you'd be good."

"Thanks, Ma'am."

"Well, I'm a fan too I suppose. Must be mad. You know about STDs?"

"A little. I'm a Biology major. Never had any."

"Symptoms?"

"Sometimes there aren't any." Dr Baddeley nodded. "Vaginal discharge--yellow or green, burning pain when pissing--that's for gonorrhea, chlamydia too. Herpes is itching and painful blisters. There's three types and treatment for each is different. No cure. Syphilis is open sores in the early stages. Not sure about genital warts and HIV. Then there's Hep and trichomoniasis--that's a single cell bacterium and it causes a frothy discharge. Oh, I suppose crab lice counts..."

"Yes, yes, thank you Colt. The important thing is to seek medical advice early and not to rely on the Internet." It was Colton's turn to nod. "Know the correct way to put on a condom? You'd be surprised how many young kids still don't"

"Yeah."

"Show me," said Dr Baddeley throwing one from a dish on her desk to Colton who caught it in one hand.

Colton did not seem fazed and stood and was down his plaid boxers in a flash.

"Not on y'self, dumbass. On this." She shoved a plastic phallus in his direction.

"Oh, sorry Dr B. I never...." Colton fastened his pants again. "Do you want me to put it on by hand or with m'mouth? I find a lot of chicks like to do it with their mouth."

"Well! You'd better show me both. Clearly I'm not too old to learn."

Colton was quite adept. A few minutes later he said: "The chick has to watch that her teeth don't tear it up. Girls with sharp teeth are such a bummer. The tip has to be the right way out. The brands that are flavoured are best for first-timers. I knew one who could use her toes, but she did yoga..."

"That's probably enough, big boy. It's not all about sex. Mental health is a big part and, well, you were very caring and perceptive when it came Tristan Isley. I think some students feel more comfortable talking to one of their own."

Colton was to man a table in the Student Union on certain days. There would always be another student rostered on as well. They were to talk to any students who approached them and offer information, but strictly no medical advice. There was a library of pamphlets to draw upon and a big bin of free condoms and another of lube in sachets.

The next day, after an hour's training with the clinic staff, Colton and another volunteer, Becky, a sophomore Science student, were seated at a table along one side of the Union foyer. It was a busy scene, with students passing to-and-fro in their lunch hour. Some were heading noisily to the main cafeteria while others were heading to the concessions that dispensed Mexican food, sushi and the like. Down the broad stairs was the basement where there were lavatories, showers and lockers that could be hired. Upstairs on the mezzanine was a post office, a bank, student club meeting rooms and the medical clinic itself.

Becky filled-in Colton on what to expect on his inaugural shift as they erected the pull-up banner, put out the A-frame, laid out the pamphlets neatly in the centre of the table and placed the baskets of condoms and lube at one end, guarded by the plastic penis.

They chatted quietly together. Becky was well aware of who Colton was and asked if he had a girlfriend. "Not at the moment," replied the quarterback. He was just about to ask if she was single when Hunter approached. He was one of Colton's teammates and they greeted each other with a bro handshake. Colton introduced Becky and Hunter said `Howdy' but obviously wanted to talk only to Colton. He was stalling, making a joke about the condoms and pink rubber penis.

"Take the load off, man," said Colton, indicating the plastic chair in front of the table.

"Stone, man, I think I've got a little problem," he began in a hushed tone.

"Spill, bro," replied Colton, wanting him to relax.

"It's down there." Hunter looked towards the basement, but Colton knew that this was not the location he meant.

"Describe y'symptoms, Hunter"

"Well, it's m'balls and groin."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The skin's all red and slippery. Smells rank." He went to put two fingers down his shorts but Colton stayed his hand.

"Sore?"

"Nah. Itchy a bit."

"Smooth and shiney or red and flakey"

"Not smooth when I look with the mirror."

"Anywhere else?"

"Maybe m'crack, but I can't tell for sure."

"How long y'been like this?"

"Four or five days. Is it the clap? Fuck, what if it's an STD!"

Colton had to make sure that he did not offer a diagnosis, but said, "Is it worse after exercise?

"Maybe. It is after a long jack-off. Do I need to see the doc?"

"Look, I suggest that you see the pharmacist and describe your symptoms. I had jock itch once. That's a yeast infection caused when one of three types of fungi called dermatophytes that are usually okay suddenly multiply out of control in hot, sweaty conditions--like around y'junk. Boxers or briefs?"

"M'girl likes me in tight briefs--says they make me look like a stud, you know, shows it off more."

"Well, if its jock itch--and I'm just talking about what happened to me--I needed to wear loose boxers or freeball to let things dry out. Needed to wash and dry my junk real good too."

"Big job with you, Stone!"

"But it's contagious, Hunter, so I had to wash my shorts n'sheets real good. I had to forego the pleasures of the flesh for a few days, which was a real bummer as I had two chicks hangin' off me at the time."

"Could it be somethin' worse?"

"If it doesn't get better in a few days with what the druggist will give you, yeah, make an appointment with Dr Baddeley. She fixed me up when I had a dose, y'know. All good now."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Back to bangin' pussy."

Hunter thanked Colton and headed off in a better frame of mind in the direction of the campus drugstore. Becky leaned over. "I couldn't help overhearing, Colt. That was great. You put him at ease and spoke his language."

"Well, the story about me was total bullshit. It could be psoriasis, but he said it wasn't shiny and he didn't have it elsewhere. I didn't want to tell him what he had, just what I had. Was that okay?"

"Yeah, perfect. It is up to the pharmacist now. If Carrie Lieu thinks its something more serious, she'll send him straight to Doctor Baddeley."

A few more students dropped by. Some just wanted to chat with Colton. Several scooped up the condoms like candy. "Why size condoms do you use, Colton?" asked one girl from his Biology class in a winsome voice. Colton was annoyed by this cocktease and didn't want to appear frivolous in front of Becky.

"Hippocratic Oath. Can't divulge."

"Look in y'trash bin, slut," said her friend.

Another girl approached the table. She was having `uncomfortable' periods. Colton began to move away so that she could discuss it more intimately with Becky, but the girl said, "No, stay Colt, I'd like your opinion and I know y'real sympathetic--for a guy." Colton froze. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"Ah..."

"We hooked up at a party last year--we were both pretty drunk."

"Sinead?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Can you describe your problem?" asked Becky, getting her attention back.

"Well, it isn't exactly a problem. You know how women are supposed to be most horny during ovulation?"

"Yeah," said Colton, "It's hormonal--elevated oestrogen and a woman is at her most fertile and nature wants her to find a man."

"Well, I'm like that during m'period. Is that freaky? I mean, most people think sex during that part of the cycle is disgusting. It can be a bit of a problem."

"It might be hormonal," ventured Becky. Late rise oestrogen or delayed rise in progesterone or something else such as Lutropin."

"It could be physical, Sinead," opined the quarterback. "The position and shape of the cervix alters slightly--moves slightly higher, I think."

"Oh God," Sinead confessed breathily, "that might be why I feel like such a total slut; I crave it deep and hard at those times."

Colton felt his own cock swelling down the leg of his plaid boxers. "Maybe the extra swelling of the walls also might cause a sexy, pleasurable pressure."

"Like when guys get hard?"

"Yeah, I guess so. If you are not having unusual pain, there's probably nothing wrong. What do you think, Becky?"

"Take Dr Baddeley's card. See her if you think it's a problem. But don't think you're some kind of freak, Sinead."

"Thanks, I'd better get to class. Thanks, Colt. Make house calls?"

"No!" said Colt, laughing.

There was a lengthy pause in customers and Colton was just thinking how quickly the shift had gone when a girl approached nervously. "I'm Colt and this is Becky. Can we help you with anything?"

"No, I'm just looking at these," she said unconvincingly as she picked up a leaflet on tooth decay. She also took a nervous glance about her. Becky gave Colt a quick look of concern.

"Have a seat..."

"Darlene" she said. "Thanks. You're Colton Stone the quarterback, aren't you?"

Colton didn't deny it. He looked at her. She looked frightened and there was something else. Haunted? Her hair was stringy and her complexion was not healthy. Perhaps she was anaemic, he thought.

"Things are a bit of a mess, Colton. I'm pregnant,"

"It happens, Darlene," he replied.

"Yeah, it does. Well, my situation isn't good. My boyfriend is Billy Tobias."

"The pitcher?"

"Yeah and things are pretty rocky between us."

"He treats you bad?"

She nodded very briefly, but did not raise her eyes from the table.

"You live with him? Does he know?"

"In a shitty apartment on South College Road. Have since freshman year. I think he suspects, you know, chucking-up in the morning and all that."

"Have you been to see a doctor?" asked Becky who had been listening.

"Not yet. Just the test from the drugstore. I'm just not sure what to do."

"You don't have to tell him, if you prefer not to. Don't have to tell your folks either."

"My folks are way off in Portland. We're not close. I felt very lonely last year--you know, away from home and people I knew-- and I thought meeting Billy was the best thing to ever happen to me--you know, good-looking jock and all...but..." She went on to tell a rather sad little story. "I didn't know what he saw in me then and now I know he hates me."

Colton spoke up at last. "See Dr Baddeley or Dr Thompson and get yourself checked out. That's the first thing." He handed out a card.

"I have to see a doctor first?"

"No, but you must at least have an ultrasound at any clinic. It's your choice whether you continue with the pregnancy or not, but it's a decision best made after talking to someone who will listen, don't you think? Maybe here first?"

Darlene digested this information but did not seem to want to commit to seeing the campus doctors but, after a moment, said, "Thanks, Colt, thanks..."

"Becky," said Becky and continued: "There's no clinic here, but there is in Waco and in Dallas. The laws are not so strict out in New Mexico, but this booklet will tell you all that. There's even some financial aid for travel if you need it."

"No, I've got a little money. So I don't have to get anybody's permission?"

"Not if you're over eighteen and not more than twenty-one weeks."

"Act quickly, Becky. It is more problematic and more expensive the later you leave it," said Colton.

"I know, yeah, yeah," she said very quietly and nodded. She looked up properly for the first time, but Colton sensed she was still reluctant to see anybody. "You're the first people to know. God, what a cluster fuck!"

"It'll work out."

Darlene had barely been gone a minute when an angry boy breasted the table.

"What was she telling you?" he demanded.

"Who?" replied Colton, coldly.

"My girl, Darlene. I saw her over here, what was she telling you?"

"Conversations here are private, Billy. You'll have to ask her."

"Tell me what that bitch has bin sayin' or s'help me, Stone..." Some people nearby stopped at the raised voices.

"Fuck off, Tobias! I ain't telling you nothing. Get lost!"

A pointless argument ensued, with raised voices. Billy Tobias made all sorts of slanderous allegations against his erstwhile girlfriend to which Colton countered with a stubborn refusal to reveal what they had been talking about. Colton was beginning to wonder just what Tobias was afraid that Darlene might have revealed--aside from her pregnancy. Tobias then accused her of being unfaithful as well as being a practiced liar for her own, obscure ends. Just when Colton thought the baseballer had run out of steam and had turned to go, all of a sudden a thin, vicious knife from his backpack was being brandished.

"Tell me what she said, motherfucker, or I'll cut you and then I'll cut her--the lyin' bitch."

"Jesus, Tobias, y'fuckin unhinged!"

Colton took a step back, then, with a swift movement, the knife clattered to the tiled floor and Tobias was clutching his wrist in agony. A blow from the quarterback's clenched fist then sent him sprawling to the floor.

"Call the campus cops, Becky!" cried Colton. He threw the rubber penis aside and stood menacingly over the prone body of the would-be assailant and potential father. Someone from the Sushi Bar had retrieved the knife and in a moment the police had arrived.

"He pulled a knife on us," explained Colton. "His name is Billy Tobias. Lives on South College Road. Find his girlfriend, Darlene something. He's been knocking her around and threatened to cut her just now. I'm pretty certain she has cigarette burns on her arms and thighs."

"What happened to you?" asked Tristan, looking up from his essay as Colt slumped through the dorm room door.

"Been at the police station--givin' a statement. Missed all m'afternoon lectures."

"Shit, Colt, what happened? I thought you were at work for the clinic."

"Well, I was..." Colton went on to give an account of what happened. "The cops told me in confidence that `they seized certain items' from Tobias' apartment. I'd say they were drugs--the guy seemed pretty out of it; ice I reckon."

"And the girl?"

"Didn't hear."

"What was her problem?"

"Tris, I can't say, even to you. Maybe you can guess why she came to our clinic and was frightened of him."

"I see," said Tistan. "You going back to work again?"

"Yeah, it was actually quite good and I felt--you know--that I was helpin' folks. But sure stressful, hafta admit."

"I can't imagine you in a fight."

"It weren't no fight, I just clocked him one. Of course, I've been in a few when I was younger--never started one that I didn't finish. Now that I've got big I like to use m'muscles for good, not evil." Colton did a double bicep flex and Tristan knew he wasn't being quite serious.

"Come on, let's go out for dinner. You need something to take your mind off things."

Colton struggled into some fresh shorts and a pale blue polo top that showed off his pecs to great affect. He pulled on his red high top vans over his bare feet-- size 13, Tristan knew--and they were out the door.

Tristan drove to an Italian trattoria in Sunset; La Baca it was called. Colton was quiet on the journey, clearly running events through his mind.

"Look Colt, you did the right thing. Imagine if Becky was there by herself. Or without you there, that girl might not have asked for the help she needs."

"Yeah, but what if Tobias hurts her--I mean really hurts her."

"But won't he be locked up?"

"What, star pitcher? First offence, maybe? Don't think the College won't put pressure on the cops. He's bound to make bail."

"I never..."

"Yeah, well, the justice system ain't always just."

When they were seated, Colton brightened. "We'll have the chicken livers as a starter and the lasagne as our entrée, please, and two mineral waters." said Colton.

"Hey!" exclaimed Tristan. "Don't I get to order?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Colton laughing to the server' whose name she had announced was Lori'. "I forgot that he wasn't my girlfriend. What will you have, Tris?"

"Err, well, I was thinking of the chicken livers and the lasagne." Tristan was blushing.

"There! My date will have the same as me."

Lori was laughing. "You're Colton Stone, the quarterback aren't you?"

"Can't deny it, Lori, 'cause it is. Y'like college football?"

"My sister and I go and watch sometimes. She thinks the players are hot."

Tristan was rolling his eyes, thinking that he was getting hungry.

"Just y'sister?"

"Well, I think you're pretty hot in y'uniform...and out."

"Colt, have you got one of your autographed photos for Lori?"

"Don't take any notice of m'boyfriend, Lori, he's the wide receiver--you just don't recognize him without the padding. Would your sister be interested?"

"I'm sure she would. He's got the cutest British accent."

"British accent? And all this time I thought he had a speech impediment!"

"Shut up Colt! Lori, I've changed my mind, I'll have the saltimbocca as my main course--and it's not a fucking `entrée'--and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

"This is what your sister would have to put up with, Lori," lamented Colton.

"Well, the accent sure makes up for it, honey, even when y'cus it sounds sexy," said Lori sweetly and departed with her pad in the direction of the kitchen.

"Colt!" Tristan hissed. "What's all this about me being your boyfriend?"

"I thought you'd like to hear me say it."

"Not if it's not true and you're just putting shit on me! And what if she tells other people. Aren't you worried?"

"Look Tris. I'm Colton Stone the quarterback; whose goin' t'believe that your m'boyfriend."

"Hey! Aren't I good enough to be your boyfriend?"

"I didn't mean it that way. We're sure arguing like we're a couple."

"Shit, you're right."

"It's like that fancy decanter full of bourbon in our room, it's hidden in plain sight."

"What do you mean? I'm not your boyfriend and now you're saying I'm your hidden one."

"Well, you're my best friend and I'm fuckin' you and we're on a date."

"Were not on a date; we're just eating a meal in a nice restaurant. Anyway, it's not a date unless we have dessert. Everyone knows that's a rule."

"So y'all don't want to be m'hidden boyfriend?"

"I'm not sure what that even means. Would it alter the way things have been?"

"I don't think so."

"So, we can't tell people or have public displays of affection and you will still fuck girls. What's in it for me?"

"Gee! I never thought you'd be so transactional when it came to relationships."

Tristan was flustered. "Well, I don't mean to be; it's more that I'm confused. I don't know where I stand."

"What's in it for you is all the sex y'want. I've been doin' that right, ain't I?"

"Yeah, no complaints there, big boy."

"And you can call me your boyfriend when we're in private."

"And you'll kiss me?"

"If'n y'good."

"And I'll wear your letterman jacket--they do that in stories."

"If I had one, you could." Tristan made a mental note to buy one on-line so that Colton could give it to him.

"And I can fuck you." Some people at a nearby table looked over and Tristan blushed furiously. "And I can fuck you," he said in a hoarse whisper, as if to undo the damage."

"No, that's not what's gonna happen and y'all know it. I have got my reputation to consider--the quarterback doesn't take it up the ass."

"He does in Purdue Pillow Biter--you can read it on my Kindle.

This exchange was cut short by the return of Lori with their drinks and a basket of bread rolls.

"And what do I get out of it?" asked Colt as he dipped his bread into the dish of olive oil-and-balsamic vinegar, "With you as my secret boyfriend."

"I won't cheat on you."

"Course you won't," laughed Colton. "Where y'gonna find better?"

Tristan was prepared for this. "Oh, I don't know, Deshawn is a hot dude and real smart-- and modest too."

"De doesn't even like boys! He's straight!"

"And you're supposed to be straight too."

"That's different. You can't have De as a secret boyfriend, what would everyone say?"

"They wouldn't say anything; it would be a secret. That is if he'd have me."

"Well, he wouldn't have you, I'm pretty sure."

"He hasn't had a girlfriend since that Lorelle at Christmas. He's probably in need of a friend to help him out. That friend might just be me."

"You're just tryin' to rile me. I've offered to be your secret boyfriend an' Deshawn ain't."

"Well, if I sacrifice myself to you, that's something I can give."

"Can you go to the movies with me? That's what a real boyfriend does."

"Of course, I already go to the movies with you."

"And on picnics--picnics with a wicker basket and a red-and-white cloth?"

"What? You don't want to go on picnics!" cried Tristan. "You're teasing me."

Colton was laughing and attracting attention just as Lori came with their entrees--or `starters' if you are an American.

Between mouthfuls, Colton said, "Just be who you are, Tris. I like that y'get off on m'body. I like the way y'always up for sex--an improvement of some not-so-secret girlfriends. I have a huge amount to be grateful to you for."

"I don't want you to be my boyfriend out of gratitude. Besides, you have given me my life back."

"Well, reckon we both helped each other, I suppose--that's a good basis for something."

"As my secret boyfriend, I want a say in your underwear."

"Okay. I want you to train yourself on a bigger butt plug..."

"Yours was the lasagne, sir? And yours was the veal?"

"Thanks, Lori," said Tristan and gave a tight, English smile.

"How big?" hissed Tristan when she had gone.

"Seven inches--circumference, then nine. I want you really stretched, Tris."

"That's hot. I'll try."

"And don't forget your nips."

"What about yours? You'd look hot with a gold ring piercing-- just one."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'd have to take it out for football."

The conversation shifted and ranged over other topics--Colton's weekend at home for his father's birthday--the new house--the doings of their friends--the distressing incident of that day. Lori returned and Colton asked for the bill.

"No, wait," said Tristan. "May I see the dessert menu, Lori?"

On the way back to Charles C. Selecmann House Tristan was lost in thought as the truck sped through a depressing area of roadside ugliness. He counted the telegraph posts along the treeless avenue and pondered just who were the clientele for the Sunset Budget Car-o-tel. This seemed to help him make a decision.

"What's up, Tris?" asked Colton who was driving.

"Colt, I don't want you to be offended..."

"But."

"But, I don't want to be your secret boyfriend. I mean, it was very nice of you to propose to me and it would be lovely to have you as a boyfriend and everything..."

"But you don't like the subterfuge?"

"Well, yes, it is a bit dishonest and there is another reason."

"Which is?"

"Well, it's too gay and you're not gay and I like you not being gay, if you know what I mean. It's who you are and I can't really imagine you doing the gay couple's picnic thing."

"So you're dumping me? That would be a first--not since Amber Hoffmann when I was 15 have I been dumped."

"I'm not dumping you. I just want to go back to how things were before--you know--helping you out and stuff."

"So no letterman jacket?"

"Probably cause talk."

"And the piercings?"

"Oh, they're okay. It's just the status thing."

"Suit yourself. You know I'm gonna make you suck m'cock tonight."

"Oh, I hope so, just no picking out soft furnishings. You're the quarterback."

"So we have to conform to gender stereotypes?"

"No, exactly the opposite. I want you to be who you are, not as something you think you should be for my benefit."

"Okay. Roomies-with-benefits and friends."

"Yeah, you're my besty and everyone can know that."

Please look for the next chapter. Henry would love to receive feedback and will endeavour to reply. Please email h.h.hilliard@hotmail.com and put Tristan in the subject line.