The First Encounter

So, the decision had been made. Vladimir’s displeasure was mainly directed toward the head of the housing office, who neglected to contact either of them about this. Even if the decision was made that day, the ethical thing was to call them. Not only did this mean that he and Guy would have to work around someone else’s schedule just to have some privacy, but they’d have to move furniture, reassign chores, and allot times for the empty practice room. He had no problem with the new guy. He just didn’t handle involuntary change very well.

At least the guy was handsome. He was a slim and fair-skinned man with short, black hair spiked up in the front, a strong neck, and a tight, inverted triangular face. An appealingly flat tummy with taut skin over lightly defined abs peeked through his still barely buttoned shirt. If he wanted to, he could probably get any man or woman on campus. He looked like he didn’t care much for anything, but who knew? Maybe he was cool.

Vladimir combed his fingers through his shoulder-length hair and pulled his sidelocks to the front. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but you could have knocked first,” he suggested in sort of an irritated sigh.

“I did knock.” The man brought a hand to his hip and flapped the other side-to-side, as if trying to shoo Vladimir off of his back. “Look, I really don’t care if you two have sex, as long as you don’t wake me up.”

On second thought, maybe he was a bit too brash for any man or woman on campus. His response genuinely left them at a loss for words—that is, until they registered the “wake me up” part. Vladimir looked to Guy, glaring contemptuously, though not directed toward him. “I don’t think that the housing officials thought this through. This suite only accommodates two beds.”

“That’s fine. I’ll take the sofa.”

Vladimir couldn’t believe how brazen this guy was. He looked over at Guy again, who had transitioned from pursing his lips in a fake smile to biting the corner of his bottom lip. He did that whenever he disagreed with someone and sought a conversational segue. He always tried to stay on the friendly side—bless his optimism. Unfortunately, the suddenness of all of this made it difficult for him to think of something else to talk about.

“Pardon our manners,” the younger thrust forth. “I’m Vladimir Andante, a second-year vocal student. This is my boyfriend, Guy Largo, second-year pianist. You’re Sergio Grave, correct?”

“Yeah.”

Even with introductions, Sergio was so painfully deadpan. Guy and Vladimir cocked eyebrows at each other, wondering if Sergio really gave a damn about even being there. He just stood there, arms and legs crossed, shifting between looking at them and glancing around the den, which made things more awkward.

The sticky sensation following intense, sweaty sex finally grew too much for Vladimir. His skin was driving him up the wall. “Well, I’m going to take a shower,” he said. He retreated to the bedroom, and Guy joined him to pick up their clothes. In accordance with his new semester schedule, he didn’t have any classes to attend the next day, and since he intended to stay in and do laundry, he picked out a nice dress shirt and black slacks from the walk-in. Even out of uniform, students had to follow a professional dress code in the event that a contractor or other official should show up in hopes of working with one. He then grabbed a large T-shirt, briefs, and socks from his dresser. Normally, he wore less than that to bed, but this was out of courtesy to Sergio. Then again, he probably didn’t care about that either. After laying his dress clothes out on the trunk at the end of Guy’s bed, he returned to find Sergio still eying about the suite, presumably trying to familiarize himself with it. “I can just sleep with Guy,” he offered. “Why don’t you take my bed until we can arrange space for you?”

“I’m fine with the sofa,” Sergio answered flatly, his head turned away, eyes peeking into the open door by the refrigerator leading to Guy’s gym.

“As you say…” Vladimir gave up. There was just no connection with this guy. It was worse than talking to a wall—more like playing fetch with a dog that would either stop and chew the ball or swat it right back in his face. Now beyond ready to turn in for the night, he carried his underclothes into the bathroom and locked the door.

*

Since his blazer was still clean, Guy figured that he could still use it for the next day. He had Romantic Music History and Composition II classes to attend. He grabbed a white dress shirt and a different pair of white slacks from the walk-in and set them up to hang by his bed. He peeked out to check on Sergio, who had apparently finished studying his new environment, and now lay on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with his violin and shoes tucked beneath the coffee table. “Vlad and I really enjoyed yar performance. Ya’ve got good skill. Guess the headmaster more or less demanded that ya move in today.”

“My living situation left me no choice.”

“Ah. Movin’ away from yar folks?”

“I don’t have parents.”

Guy felt his heart sink a little.

“Anyway, the semester starts tomorrow. Whether I move in now or later doesn’t make a difference,” Sergio replied, resting an arm over his forehead. “It’s just a hassle, moving in without my clothes or a uniform.”

Guy pondered the bit about not having parents, but decided not to touch it, even for sympathy. He didn’t know if the subject was sensitive, and part of him didn’t want to know how Sergio would react. “Well, Vlad doesn’t have class tomorrow. Ya might fit in one of his blazers. He’s a great one, ya know. I’ll ask for ya, if ya—”

“Let me just make one thing clear,” Sergio said harshly as he sat up and glared at Guy, startling him. “I have zero intentions of getting friendly with you or your boyfriend. I’m here to better my violin skills, not make friends.”