Page 24 of The Roommate Situation

“Miss your cock,” he slurs as I ease him into the front seat and try to buckle him. “It was so big and beautiful, not like my teeny weeny one.” He puts emphasis on the words and holds his thumb and forefinger up about an inch apart. Then his headlolls to the side. “You know Zach was right about that. I have a baby carrot cock. I can’t believe you ever wanted me.” He sniffles again and more tears slide down his cheeks. “You did, you know? That first night? You gave me that blow job, and I don’t know why because my cock is so tiny it’s not much good for anything. And then I ran away, and you haven’t wanted me since then. I don’t blame you. I’m not very good in bed.”

I honestly don’t have a clue what to say to all of his jibber jabber, but I’ll admit some of it makes me sad. I hate to hear him talk about himself like that, even if he is drunk. That Zach buttface really did a number on him and his self esteem, and he’s so sweet, and cute, and smart, and talented, it just boils my biscuits that anyone could be so mean to him or make him feel badly about himself. I get him buckled and close the door before making my way around to the driver’s seat.

It’s a short drive and we’re home in less than ten minutes. I park the car and hurry around to help him out. “Carry me,” he says and throws his arms around my neck.

“Sure, little dude.” I scoop him in my arms again and he kicks his feet and lets out a “weee!!!”

“Can you open the door?” I ask him when we get to the main entrance. He reaches out and pulls on it, then cheers again as I make my way up the stairs with him in my arms. He’s tiny, but hauling him up three flights of stairs while he seems to be doing his best to catapult himself out of my arms is not easy.

I get us inside, and as soon as I set him on his feet he’s running down the hall. I hear him vomiting again seconds later. Oh boy. This could be a long night, and I don’t want to leave him alone.

I find him kneeling on the bathroom floor with his cheek resting against the toilet seat and I cringe. He managed to get most everything in the toilet, unfortunately that includes his kitty kat ears. Fuck, I’m the best roommate ever. I wipe off hischin and then pick him up again and carry him to my bed. It’s bigger than his, and like I said, I don’t want to leave him alone. I grab some rubber gloves and slide them on before fishing the kitty ears out of the toilet and flushing everything else down. Then I try to clean and disinfect the ears as best I can before leaving them on a towel in the kitchen to dry.

After that I grab a glass of water and take it to the bedroom along with a breath mint. His eyes are lidded and he groans as I push him up on the bed. “You need to drink,” I tell him, and hold the glass to his mouth. He manages to get a few sips in and then lets out a huge burp.

“Oh, jeeze, that was bad,” he says, waving his hand in front of his face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “Here, suck on this.” He takes the breath mint and pops it in his mouth.

“Woah, that’s good,” he says, his eyes widening, like I just gave him weed or something.

“Keep sucking,” I say. “Don’t swallow it whole.” I don’t mind letting him share my bed, but if he’s going to be this close to me I’d like to try and avoid the smell of vomit and cider. I hope that doesn’t make me a terrible person.

He gives me a grin and a thumbs up sign as he sucks and I move down the bed to slip his shoes and tights off. He starts to giggle again and I look at him. “What is it?”

He giggles more. “You’re undressing me.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess I am, but don’t get excited. I’m stopping there.” I move up to the head of the bed and slide his glasses off, setting them on the nightstand next to him, then help him lie down again.

He reaches out and grips my arm. “Don’t wanna be alone,” he murmurs, those big blue eyes gazing up at me.

“I’m not gonna leave you, short stack,” I promise. “I do need to get you one of your nose things, though. Where are they?”

“Nightstand,” he murmurs, and I leave the room, returning with the nasal strip and handing it to him. He fumbles with it for a bit before pouting and handing it back to me. I chuckle a little, then tear it open. It’s really similar to a bandaid wrapper, and I pull off the backing, before reaching over and placing it across his nose.

“Good?” I ask, and he nods.

I start to undress myself and he stares at me. I really don’t mind, so I don’t bother leaving the room. I strip out of my costume until I’m down to my boxer briefs and then slide into pajama pants before climbing into bed next to him. He immediately rolls over to face me and scoots closer.

“You take such good care of me,” he says, resting his head on my chest and stroking his fingers over my abdomen.

“Boop,” he says, when he gets to my belly button and pokes it. Jesus, he’s a strange drunk.

He lifts his head and stares at me. “I want you to kiss me,” he says. “I want you to fucking kiss me. And I want you to fuck me.” He frowns and keeps tracing my abdomen with his finger. “You probably don’t want that, though. I’m lousy in bed. That’s what Zach says. You heard him, didn’t you? You were there when he said what a lousy lay I am. How I moan like a whore. He said it was embarrassing.” His eyebrows furrow. “He did nothing but insult me and then wondered why I wanted sex less and less. And I spent so long trying to be better for him. Trying to be what he wanted me to be. And he still cheated.”

He rests his head on my chest and I hear his sniffles as his body shakes slightly against me. “‘It’s a good thing you have a hole because your dick isn’t good for much, is it?’ That’s what he said. I was lucky he wanted me for as long as he did. No one wants me.”

I have tears filling my eyes as I squeeze him against me. That jerk face said all those horrible things to my sweet Rory andhe has spent the last two months trying to believe something different. To believe he’s worthy and desirable. He has no idea how desirable he is, because Zach fucking shattered his self esteem, just to make himself feel better, to keep Rory under control, to make him feel like no one else would want him. But it’s just not true.

I fucking want him.

“Shh,” I soothe, stroking my fingers through his hair. “Sleep, little dude.”

He’s snoring softly a moment later.

TEN

RORY

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