CHAPTER 7:

He felt the roaming hands of a lover's caress glide along his body; hands sliding up his neck, down his legs, across his stomach, all of them snaking around, groping his bared flesh and making him writhe about. His own hands chased them, peeling them from himself, unsure of what to do with them as there were so many. If he dropped one three more slithered in to take it's place. They touched and grabbed and moved about. Fingers rolled over his nipples, they tickled the backs of his knees and armpits, palms slapped and squeezed the tender flesh of his buttocks, running through his hair and dragged their nails carefully along the length of his arms. They fought each other to stroke his penis and stuck their phalanges in his anus; these ones he didn't pull away. They made him moan as he squirmed, and he bucked to encourage them, it felt nice to be touched. It felt nice to be held, and squeezed, and groped, and molested.

He felt the kisses next, the licking tongues, teeth biting just hard enough to arouse without causing pain. He tried to look around for who was doing this to him, who did these hands belong to? Who was controlling these mouths that teased him? He peeked behind himself and breathed a sigh of relief when he finally saw Lafayette's face, felt Lafayette's hands on his hips, pulling them closer. The man's hands snaked up his sides like they had done so many times before and John smiled as they folded over his, holding his own hands, comforting and reassuring. He swayed, feeling his best friend behind him and for a moment all felt right with the world. Then he felt the second pair of hands sliding up his torso.

He snapped his head down in time to see Alex rise up to meet him. He pressed their lips together and John leaned into it, feeling hungry for Alex's kiss. The other male pulled away then, but lingered close to his mouth, pulling away if John tried to kiss him back. "My, my," Alex's voice purred, or was it Lin's? "You're so eager..."

"John, mon amie, you need to wait for it," Lafayette's voice cooed in his ear. "Alexander will take care of you."

"What is this?" John asked but Alex shushed him then, tapping a finger to his mouth.

"This is our little secret, John," he said. Alex knelt before him and John looked down at the leaking erection he had between his legs. "You wouldn't tell anyone about me, right?"

"I told Laf," he replied.

"Naughty," Alex said and licked him. "How would you feel if I told my friends about what you liked to make me do?"

"I'm sorry," John replied. "I didn't mean to tell. Are you mad at me?"

"On peut se faire plaisir," Lafayette murmured against his neck.

"That's right, you'll make it up to me," Alex agreed. "By letting everyone watch what I want to do to you."

Wait, John tried to say, but the word made no noise. Wait! He tried again as Alex proceeded to swallow his dick. Wait! What Do You Mean?! Answer Me! WAIT!

And then he noticed the eyes. All around, disconnected to anyone, eyes watching him, unblinking they saw what was happening. Eyes on him, eyes on them, eyes on the sin he was committing. He tried to pull his hands away from Lafayette, but his friend's grip was too strong now, he held John back from pushing Alex away.

WAIT! he tried to scream, and his voice was silent. STOP! WHY WON'T YOU STOP?! LISTEN TO ME! I DON'T WANT THIS! WAIT! He trashed, but no matter how hard he fought, Alex would not release him, Lafayette would not let him go. His cries were silent, and he felt tears rolling down his cheeks.

"You're never going to get over him if you don't move on and be with other people, John."

He looked up, and standing now behind Alex was Thomas.

"THOMAS!" John screamed and was relieved to hear his voice again. "THOMAS! HELP! GET THEM OFF ME!"

The other southerner reached a hand out to cup John's cheek, wiping at the wetness there. But when he pulled his hand away, John could see it was covered in blood. John blinked again, feeling the warm liquid run down his face and he knew it was blood, his blood. He looked up again into the sky of eyes watching him and felt still more blood run down his naked and sinful body.

John awoke suddenly. For a brief moment he couldn't recall where he was and he sat bolt upright to look around at his surroundings. The lights, the chair, the books, the nick-knacks he kept, what was left of those stupid candles that Laf sent him every two weeks last year when he'd complained about his then roommate's complete aversion to cleaning anything. He remembered he was back in the dorms and he briefly ran his hands through his hair, holding them at the back of his head and hiding his face as he coiled in on himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered.

Bizarre dreams weren't an uncommon side effect of the medication he was on, but holy fuck did his subconscious have it out for him last night. He took deep steady breaths until the shame he felt in his stomach began to dissipate and he didn't feel so much like vomiting or crying.

The smell of coffee eventually made him cautiously peek from the safety of his arms again at the quiet world around him. The sun filtered in through the blinds, the birds chirped outside and someone down the hall was getting yelled at to turn their damn music down because it was too early for that shit; and the world still spins, he told himself. Spying his phone on the desk next to his bed where he'd left it, John reached for it with a shaking hand. Tapping the button that brought up his lock screen, he checked the time; 6:45AM it read. He lowered the phone to his lap, counted to ten in his head and looked again. The time had changed only to 6:46AM. Satisfied that he was no longer in the middle of some surrealist nightmare bullshit concocted by his own mind to torture him about things he already abused himself for in his waking life, he pushed back his covers and and swung his feet off the edge of his bed, but didn't yet get up. Across the room he saw that Alex's bed was empty and neatly made, and he wondered where in the world his current roommate had gone off too so early in the morning. But then, maybe it was better he hadn't been here when John woke up.

John pushed his hair from his face again and cautiously reviewed the images from his dream in his mind's eye. He shivered, recalling things that left him feeling vulnerable and exposed, and he clutched at the t-shirt he wore, it's texture on his skin giving him a bit of comfort. He needed to go over what had happened in the dream again, slowly, and piece by piece to examine what it was trying to tell him.

Well, he knew what it was trying to tell him. Just get over himself and go fuck someone to get over all his stupid pining for Lafayette; that was fucking obvious. God, if he told his best friend about the dream that's exactly what he'd say it meant too. It was so painfully fucking obvious and that's probably why he felt like shit thinking about it again, because he knew what he had to do. it's just that doing it was his whole problem. Why? What could possibly go wrong? Oh no, he might have a good time. Ahhh, he could actually like the experience. Gasp, what if he met someone, and then they liked him too, and then they went out, and John got his first real boyfriend since the tragic breakup with Lafayette, and then maybe he moved in with that person, and they adopted three dogs, and a bitter old cat, and had a wonderful home flourishing with houseplants that John tended to, and on the weekends they invited the neighbors over for dinner, and swapped recipes and tips on how to care for rose bushes, and he just lived happily ever fucking after?

John snorted, going over the stupid fictional scenario in his head. It seemed ludicrous because he could see all the details of this made up bullshit, the dogs, the cat, the layout and decoration of the living room, the neighbors of course were Thomas and Lafayette because even in some made up bullshit fantasy where they weren't together anymore John still couldn't envision his life without Lafayette and Thomas would probably just stick around to annoy him, as usual. He could see everything except what his lover looked like. It was just a fully clothed body, straight from the neck down, and a shadowed area around the head. In the past he'd always just put Lafayette there because that's where he'd always thought they'd wind up someday, but maybe he really did need to give up that stupid fantasy and start fantasizing in this one, the one with the mystery lover he didn't know yet.

He felt stupid for knowing it was far past time for him to move on and how long it had taken him to accept that. He looked at his phone again, unlocked it this time and stared at the picture of himself and Lafayette on his home screen. They'd harassed Thomas into taking a photo of them squishing their faces into a window so that it looked like they were stuck together inside John's phone. He'd smiled almost every time he'd seen it since; they looked fucking ridiculous. And then he started crying.

He knew he was scared of losing his best friend again, and that's why he'd clung so tightly to the feelings he had for him. Because if he didn't, then maybe the French man would drift away forever. Maybe they would grow apart. Maybe John's stupid happy fantasy was just that, a happy little dream world he'd never really get to be a part of and the reality was simply that life didn't work that way. John wanted to get married, have his own family someday, and it wasn't realistic to think Lafayette would be around everyday to be a fixed part of that. Sure, he could come and visit, but it wasn't the same as what John had wanted. It felt heartbreaking.

He sniffled, wiped at his face, and pulled up his messages to the French man he loved so much. 'Hey, so I have to go make sure my job still likes me after I abandoned them for the summer, but can we go out dancing tonight? I assume you've already scooped out the nightclubs in the area and probably know which ones would be gay friendly.' He hit send and put his phone back on his desk. Lafayette was never an early riser, so he didn't expect to hear an answer back for a while.

Walking across to the heavy wooden table that now housed his coffee maker, he found the pot a little over half full with a fresh brew. He'd figured Alex had made some when he first noticed the smell, and a small part of him was mildly annoyed. John didn't like when people went through his things. His last roommate really had no regard for what was his and what was John's and sharing the space had been a headache. He really hoped Alex wouldn't do the same. Before he could pour himself a cup, however, a folded piece of paper with his name written on it caught his eye. Curious, he picked it up and read the note inside:

G'morning!

The coffee you got tastes really good, I hope you don't mind that I stole a cup...okay /striketwo/strike THREE cups. I left half a pot for you, I hope that's enough. I'm willing to pitch in to keep us both strikecaffina/strike caffeinated this semester, but I'll understand if you want me to stay out of your stuff. (And if that's the case, I'm really sorry and I promise it won't happen again!) If you leave before I get back I hope you have a good day. I'll touch base with you later this evening, okay? Go get 'em tiger!

—Alexander

John found himself smiling a bit at the note, stupid as it was. Alex's penmanship was better then his, even for what looked like a quickly scribbled letter on a piece of scrap paper. He knew he should just throw it away, but he turned and compulsively filed it away in the box of letters from Lafayette and his littlest sister that he kept.

He had opened his computer to play some music, a soft kind of low-tempo, beat-driven electronic music that he found easy to sway along to; It was relaxing and easy listening, not to mention it generally put him in a good mood. He was bopping head head along to it as he stirred in his creamer when Alex walked in muttering to himself. "Good morning," John said, but Alex didn't respond. Instead he hung his hoodie on the rack behind the door and looked at the ceiling, tapping his finger against his palm as if counting off a beat. He shook his head and turned into the bathroom without a single glance John's way. Frowning, John told himself not to take it personally. It was only their second day together, there was bound to be some toe stepping while they figured out the steps to whatever dance was going to work best for them. And they had the better part of a week to sort that out before classes officially started.

He sat down on the extra chair he'd brought and noted that the shower had turned on. Okay, so it seemed they wouldn't bump heads on that front. John was contemplatively staring out the window at the leaves that were taking their sweet time changing colors when Alex emerged from the bathroom, hair still wet and with little more then a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Oh!" he said, spotting John folded up in his own chair. "You're awake now; Good morning!"

"Good morning," John repeated, pointedly looking back out the window and hoping his face didn't betray his emotions.

"Did you sleep well?" Alex asked with a smile as he moved toward his closet, right beside where John was sitting.

"Yeah, it was okay."

"Hmm yeah, getting to sleep on a bed that isn't quite your own yet is always hard the first few nights. Any interesting dreams?"

John choked on the coffee he'd been sipping and coughed into his hand, warm liquid spilling into it and dripping down his chin and neck. What he couldn't hold soaked into his pajamas and John hated how much it felt like the warm bloody tears of his dream. Alex instinctively reached to pat John firmly on the back as he coughed but pulled away when John flinched at the touch and twisted to give him a look of mixed horror and disgust. He raised his hands in front of him, the universal sign that he meant no harm but John still slunk out of his seat and away to the other chair that went to his desk. "N-no," John answered him, but Alex caught the way his voice faltered and his suddenly strange behavior seemed completely out of place.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, it just went down the wrong pipe." He frown at his wet hand and wiped it on his pajamas; guess this pair can go right in the wash, then, he thought to himself.

"Not a touchy guy then? I'm sorry, I'll try to keep my hands to myself. I like physical contact and I guess I just assumed you did too, with the way your...friend? Actually, is he your friend? Or is he your boyfriend and you're not telling your parents? Cuz I completely get it if you—"

John frantically shook his head and waved his free hand in front of him, as if brushing something away. "No, no Laf is just my friend now. We dated before, but that's over. He's just..." John sighed looking for what excuse to give him. It seemed lame to say Lafayette was a touchy guy as well if John was gunna ask Alex not to be. "He's Laf. He does what he wants and I've just learned it's easier to let him have his way then fight him about it."

Alex frowned at that. "If you don't want him to touch you, you should say so."

"I'm used to it."

"John, that's not the point. He should respect your boundaries and if he can't he's not a very good friend."

"He respects my boundaries. He's fine."

Alex shrugged then. "Alright, if you say so. But just so we're clear, you don't want me touching you, correct?"

"Alex, I'm 22, we're living in a cramped dorm space and I'm not gunna flip out if you brush my shoulder or something on accident, don't worry about it."

"Then what was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"Why'd you run from me when I touched you just now?"

"I didn't—" John started but stopped as Alex gestured between the chair he was standing next to, the one John had been occupying, and the one at his desk he was sitting in now. Alex was right, he had scurried away from him and John frantically tried to think of a plausible reason why. "I moved for unrelated reasons!"

"John, I'm not going to be mad if you tell me not to touch you."

"If you don't want to touch me then don't touch me Alex. I don't care, I'm fine either way, it's fine. Will you drop it and just put some fucking pants on now?"

Again, Alex held his hands in front of him to ward off John's anger. "Whoa! Okay, I just wanted to know what I did to upset you, but clearly you don't want to tell me. So okay, I'll drop it but here's the thing John, if you don't clue me in to what I did then I might do it again and I don't like the idea that I'm going to upset you without knowing why. But if you want to drop this then I'll try to respect that." He turned back to his closet and resumed picking out clothes.

John lowered his head and tried not to berate himself. He knew Alex was just trying to help but that stupid dream, of which Alex couldn't have possibly known about, had really messed with his head. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I...I just had a really...fucked up dream last night and I let it get to my head." He looked up briefly and then back down again as he caught sight of Alex just beginning to pull his towel off.

"Do you want to talk about it or is that all you wanted to say?" Alex said glancing over as he dressed himself.

"My head does some really fucked up shit sometimes, okay?" John sighed. "I...god please don't take this the wrong way, I just...I dreamed that you raped me last night."

"Oh," Alex said, momentarily freezing under the weight of those words. "Shit."

"I—I know you wouldn't...really do that, it's just a stupid dream, it doesn't mean anything. So I'm sorry I freaked out at you, but really, we don't have to divide the room and keep to our own sides and never touch each other. I'm fine, really."

Slowly, Alex resumed pulling his shirt on over his head, popping his head out with a worried look. "Sounds like you had a pretty rough night," he said. "And here I thought my dream of being chased by a giant crab wearing loafers and shooting lightening bolts from it's eyes was bad." He smiled some as John let out one single laugh. "Man, that really sucks tho."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what you were doing," John muttered into his coffee then shook his head. "Sorry, TMI; I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Well, you'll have to try harder then that," Alex replied. He sat down on his own bed and smiled warmly as John peeked up at him again. "If you wanna talk about it, maybe it'll help make you feel better. No pressure tho."

"You're really not gunna feel weird about your gay roommate having messed up sex dreams about you?"

"Nah, I know I'm handsome. But if you're gunna have sex dreams about me then I wanna be allowed to have them about you too, okay? That's only fair." He gave John a teasing smile and was relieved when the other male shyly try to return it. "Just for the record, I consider myself bisexual, and I can talk about almost anything, it really doesn't bother me at all. So, I was sucking you off..." Alex gestured for his roommate to continue.

John thought about everything else he could recall from his nightmare and weighed how comfortable he was sharing it. "It's just that you were...ya know...and when I asked you to stop you wouldn't. That's all."

"I see. So, how did that make you feel?"

"Unheard," John replied, thinking of the other details of his dream. "Like my voice didn't matter...like I didn't even have one."

"Do you feel like I don't hear you?" Alex asked, leaning forward. "Like I don't listen to you?"

"Well, I mean, you're listening now."

"Okay...Do you feel like maybe other people don't hear you? Or that they silence you with their actions?"

John shook his head. "No, I wouldn't say that they do."

"Really?" Alex asked gently. "You don't think that your parents don't hear you about your sexuality or that maybe Lafayette doesn't listen to your boundaries?"

"That's another matter. My parents just have a different way of thinking and I enjoy having Laf in my life. I want to be close with him." John shifted in his seat as he made a decision. "He was...in my dream too."

"What was he doing?"

"Holding my hand...my hands..." John frowned some as he realized something. "He stood behind me...and he held my hands...he kept me from pushing away from you."

"So he was restraining you?"

"Yeah, yeah kind of...I tried to pull away from him and no matter how hard I fought he wouldn't let go. But...my hands were in his, I wouldn't let go either..."

"And what do you think might have happened if you had?"

John shrugged. "He would have still had a hold of me. And I don't think I could have fought him and you off..."

"Well, let's pretend you had let go and he released you. What do you think you would have done then? What were your desires?"

"I still wanted you to stop."

"So tell me to stop."

"What?"

"Tell me to stop. You didn't get a chance to tell me in your dream, so," Alex shrugged, "tell me now."

"You're...not doing anything tho."

His roommate smirked. "Do you need me to come over there and suck your dick?"

"No!" John replied and instinctively closed his legs some.

"Okay, well then, tell me to stop teasing you about it," Alex said in a silly voice. "Cuz if you don't I might come over there and tease you more."

John sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, you were being sweet," he blushed as Alex started to make slurping noises. "Now you're just being an ass." He gave Alex a warning look as the man stared pumping a fist in front of his mouth. "You're being really childish, you know that right?" He jumped some as Alex spread his legs wide and slapped his inner thighs, smirking at John. All at once John realized how much his roommate was also the porn star he idolized, that Lin was sitting right there in front of him, rising slowly from his bed and lifting the shirt he'd just pulled on. He stared silently, fascinated, as the man took two steps toward him then dropped with a controlled and deliberate grace to his knees, crawling towards John with a bedroom smirk and hungry eyes. John felt his body reacting and was torn between telling Lin to knock it off or sit perfectly still and see how far he'd go. The reality of what was happening slammed into him like a truck as soon as Lin raised a hand and hovered it just over his knee. "STOP!" John screamed and pulled closer to himself.

Lin froze, with a head tilt and a raised brow. The hand retracted, and he sat back on his heels, folding his hands in his lap. With a single blink it felt like Lin was gone, and there before him sat Alex once again.

"How do you feel?" Alex asked him.

"Terrified," John replied. "The hell was that?!"

"Did I push too hard?" Alex asked, his face again looking worried. "Damnit, I really thought that would help. You know, like just a lesson in boundaries."

"LESSON? Acting like you were gunna do exactly like what I just told you I had a nightmare about you doing to me was supposed to help?! HOW?!"

"Well, I heard you this time."

"You Scared Me Half To Death!"

"Hey, c'mon, I didn't mean to—"

"So What Were You Gonna Do If I Didn't Say Stop?!"

Alex shrugged and tried to smile but even he was catching on that something was really wrong between them now. "I was just teasing."

John nearly slammed his coffee mug down on his desk and jumped to his feet. "It's NOT Funny Alexander! And Do You Want To Know WHY? Because One Time When I Said Stop—" He choked on his words and the tears running down his face. He shook, from fear and from anger. With the palms of his hands he pushed the tears away and steeled himself to finish. "No one in that room listened to me. And do you want to know the REALLY fucked up part of it? They told me it was for my own good, that they were teaching me a lesson and that I needed to be grateful for the way they held me down and kept thrusting into me while I screamed and cried and begged them to stop! So this wasn't funny, and it was NOT okay. Do You Understand?"

"John, I had no idea, I—"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, ALEXANDER?!"

"I do," Alex replied. "I just wanted to help, I'm really sorry, John."

John laughed bitterly and threw his hands in the air. He knew he was now manic with righteous fury and the fear of the words he'd spoken. He didn't know what else to say that wasn't just a scream or crying, so he stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door hard behind him, causing Alex to flinch.

The bathroom door cracked open a fraction, and Alex tried to pretend like he wasn't hyper aware of the fact that John was ready to come out of hiding. He stared down at the text book he'd been pretending to read for the last hour, pretending he couldn't hear John crying, pretending he didn't feel like the biggest fucking asshole in the whole world, pretending that his bullshit fantasizing of tearing down that door with an axe and hugging John all better would actually work. For a moment all he heard was the door crack open, then, in just the smallest voice he may have ever heard, John called out, "Alex?"

"Yeah?" he replied, snapping his head to look in the direction of the door.

For a moment there was silence and then John said, "will you please get me a change of clothes? And my phone, please? I think I heard it ping, and it's probably Laf."

"Sure," Alex replied, immediately jumping to his feet. "Uh, anything in particular you want to wear?" he asked as he opened John's closet. Holy shit, it was meticulously organized.

"Jeans, shirt, underwear. That's it."

"What color shirt?" He waited for a reply, but when none came he sighed and picked the green one. He picked up John's phone from his desk and handed it and John's folded clothes carefully to him through the crack in the door. "So listen, about what happened, I—" The door shut in his face. "I'm so sorry, John. I know there's nothing I can say to make it right, but—"

"then stop trying."

Alex opened his mouth to reply, but then realized that's exactly what John didn't need from him. He needed to know he could trust Alex again, and if shutting the hell up was what John wanted from him, then he was going to sit back down at his desk and shut the fuck up until John wanted to talk. And so that's exactly what Alex did. He sat back down at his desk and he stared at the textbook he couldn't read.

John sat naked on the floor of the bathroom, his back leaning against the door and the pile of clothes Alex had fetched for him stacked beside him. He opened his phone and saw a message from Lafayette, a surprise at only 9 in the morning.

Who are you and what have you done with John?! Lafayette had sent him. It was followed by several of those cry-laughing emojis.

'You're right,' he typed back. 'I don't know what I was thinking. Forget going out, can we just do a movie or something at your place?' He leaned his head back and waited for the eventual reply.

Sure, but Peggy will be the only one home with us. You should bring Alex along so she does not cling to you. You can lay in my lap and have Alex lay in yours.

'Alex has to work tonight,' John lied. He liked Peggy, but he already knew he was likely to be a little testy about being touched and she was the last person he wanted to snap at for his own fucking issues. 'Where else can we go?'

I will ask Thomas if he would like to come over.

'I really don't want to see Thomas right now. Okay, can we just go to a park and feed the pigeons?'

The text messages stopped for a minute and John hoped his friend wasn't already just asking Thomas to crash the much needed alone time he wanted to have with his best fucking friend. To hell with letting Lafayette go, to hell with moving on. He just wanted to put his head down on the only chest he felt safe laying on and try not to cry too loud.

Thomas said he has plans, came the reply. But he said we could use his house. I still want to go out dancing tho, are you sure you do not want to go out?

'No, I don't.'

Well, there is still plenty of time from now til then. If you change your mind let me know. I know of a very good club full of many cute guys, I think you would be very happy there. :)

'I told Alex I was raped.'

A moment later his phone was ringing, Lafayette's name and picture coming up on the caller ID. John sighed, and slid the green circle over. "Hey," he said lowly.

"Are you okay?" Lafayette asked him. "Tell me what happened."

"I told Alex I was raped," John repeated out loud, though his voice was still little more then a hushed whisper. "Now I feel like shit."

"Why do you feel like shit? There is nothing you need to be ashamed of. The people who did that to you, they are the ones who should feel the guilt and shame, it should eat away at them. But not you."

"I just kinda threw it in his face, Laf. He got in my personal space and I just...panicked."

"Well, he should know how you feel."

"He thinks I'm damaged."

"You are not damaged! There is nothing wrong with you. I love you just the way you are and nothing in this world will change that. No matter how many people you sleep with or under what circumstances."

John sighed and didn't respond. He knew Lafayette trying his best to cheer him up. What he didn't need was to rehash an old fight from years ago and get mad at his best friend on top of everything else that had happened.

"If you are uncomfortable with him moving in close you should be allowed to tell him to stop," the French man was saying now. "Did he listen to you?"

He felt the entirety of his mood shifted with that single question. He still felt like shit, he still felt like today was off to one hell of a shitty start, but something sparked. The will not to roll over and wallow in self-pit for the rest of the day washed over him and he began to stand up. "Can I call you back?"

"Why, what is happening?"

"I just, I need to check something.

"I have one more question," Lafayette said and went straight on into, "You have not started cutting again, right?"

John looked down at his out turned thighs and the hundreds of lines of scar tissue that mutilated them. They crisscrossed over his skin, wrapping around to his hips and running up his legs to flirt dangerously close to his own genitals. Fresh red lines cut vivid new paths into his flesh, already sticky with coagulation as the blood droplets that beaded from them worked to add what would eventually become more scar tissue to an already over crowded swatch of epidermis. "No," he lied. "I have to go. I'll call you back in a few minutes, okay? I love you, bye."

The bathroom door opened and Alex looked over expectantly. John stood in the doorway fully dressed and for a moment just froze as he surveyed the room, and Alex in particular. He waited, and eventually the silence cracked Alex like an egg. "John," he started, raising from his seat, "I'm so sorry for what I—"

"Stop," John commanded and instantly Alex was silent. John took a deep breath and rubbed at his face. He didn't want to have this conversation but the issue was already on the table. It couldn't just be ignored. "What you did really scared me," he started. "I started to explain why, but I think we can both agree I was pretty upset. So here's what you need to know, here's what I need you to know. Twelve years ago, my parents sent me away to a place that they really felt would help me not be gay. They did a lot of really messed up shit to me and the other kids there. I have been abused in ways I don't even remember now because my brain has blocked the memories out and if I try to pry back into them...Well, my mind does some pretty fucked up shit, okay? So you can't just apologize to me for what happened here and think that that makes everything okay, understand?"

"I do," Alex replied.

John waited to see if he'd try to explain himself again, but this time Alex kept his words to himself. With a nod, he added, "I do see that you are trying to make amends. And I do know that you didn't mean to push me...I know you didn't mean to scare me. Thank you for listening to me. Now I know I can hear what you have to say."

Alex took his own deep breath. "I know an apology will not make this better, but I still need to express that I am so deeply sorry for how I acted. If I had known, John, I never would have thought that was a good idea. And I feel like I should have read you between the lines there, because you were telling me you had been raped before you even came right out and said it, but I just thought it was a silly dream and that if you felt bad about it I could just make you laugh and you'd be better and everything would be okay. Instead I'm an ass and you have to lay out all this really personal stuff to a stranger, you probably don't want knowing all this about you. I'm sorry I made you do that but I just wanted you to know you could trust me to actually listen to you, if you needed me to stop, doing anything, then you just needed to tell, just tell me if you need me to stop, and I would listen. Because it's important, and I knew that before but I know it's especially important to listen to you now. And I know I'm intense sometimes and I know I can talk too much and I know I can be abrasive but I can listen, I promise I can. So just tell me what I need to do, tell me how I fix this so we're not jerking away from each other and stepping on eggshells all semester because I don't want that, John. I really want you to like me and feel comfortable around me and I really want to be your friend because I think you're really cool and interesting and—"

John listened to Alex ramble on for a few more minutes, noting how scattered his thoughts seemed. It was comforting, in a twisted way, knowing he hadn't been the only one agonizingly upset for the last two hours. "Alex," he finally said, expecting to get talked over as the man was in such a rant.

"Yeah?" Alex responded and John smiled softly at him.

"I just need to know that you'll listen."

"I will."

He nodded. "What do you need?"

Alex shift his weight some. "Is a hug too much to ask for? I'll settle for a fist bump."

John stepped closer and opened his arms, allowing Alex to embrace him. Part of him recoiled as his roommate's hands slid up his back, remembering the hands in his dream that had crawled all over his body. He told himself this was different, that Alex's hands were there to help him, not hurt him. He told himself they'd never find their way under his clothes, never see all of his scars, never brush away his tears in the moments when he'd really need it. Not even Lin would do that. This man was Alex, his roommate, a new friend. He decided it wasn't just Lafayette he needed to let go of, it was also time to let go of Lin.

The sun comes up and the world still spins and I'm still here.

END CHAPTER