Quarantined With My Straight Roommate

by Charlie Chubb

  When I knew the truth about him, maybe that would change.

  35

  TONY STONE

  The truth. I never wanted to tell him the truth because he didn’t need to know. I didn’t need the money and Max didn’t need money in college either. How the fuck could I explain to him. He didn’t need to see that.

  “I’m sorry for not telling you. I was embarrassed.”

  “I mean what did you do? What does an escort do? Some of us mere mortals aren’t hot enough to get guys to pay for it.”

  “I wasn’t a fucking prostitute.”

  “Okay, so what does an escort do.”

  “Guys paid for me to go on dates with them. Guys who aren’t out to their families, guys who have families, guys who missed out on their youth. It’s not about sex.”

  “But you had sex.”

  “I mean… if I found one of the hot older daddy types.”

  “Oh, my God! You are crazy.”

  “What, like you’ve never been a much older guy?”

  “Okay, I have but I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”

  “I was into guys. I didn’t want to date on campus because I couldn’t risk my parents finding out so I did what I had to.”

  “And the porn?”

  “Moment of weakness.”

  “Um… I’ve had many moments of weakness and I’ve never done porn. I have finished pints of ice cream, but porn!?”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Max. Do you have to know all my dirty secrets?”

  I explained a lot to him, but he wanted more and I guessed that I couldn’t blame him.

  “Yes. I do. I had to see some other guy bend you over and —

  “That’s enough! Fuck. I was on drugs and I needed $5,000 for fraternity dues because I spent all my fucking money going to Cancun. I was a fucking idiot, okay?”

  “Hold on. You made a porno because you spent all your frat money?”

  “Shut up, will you?”

  “Okay, whatever. I don’t judge you.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Tony. I love you.”

  My cheeks flushed.

  “Yeah. I love you too.”

  Max let me stay in his bed and in the morning, I didn’t want to get out of bed except my phone buzzed off the hook. Fuck.

  “Can you shut that fucking thing off?” Max muttered.

  “Yeah…”

  I shot straight out of bed when a loud knock came at Max’s door.

  “Who the fuck is that?” I whispered.

  “I don’t fucking know.”

  “Honey, I know you’re in there…”

  “Fuck… It’s my mom,” I whispered.

  Max sat up and rubbed his eyes.

  “Fuck, does she know?”

  “Anthony Stone, I know you’re in here, so open that damn door.”

  “Fuck!”

  I jumped out of bed and Max tried to get dressed quickly. Too late. My mom pushed the door open like a nosy Southern mama and saw us half dressed. She turned red and screeched like a drunk owl.

  “Mama!”

  “Anthony Stone! This is inappropriate behavior and this young gentleman… put your clothes on!”

  “I’m trying!” Max yelled.

  We were hopping around on one leg and struggling to get into our clothes, a process that became painfully more awkward with my mother standing there, arms folded and all of her judgmental glory raining down on us. Max stuck a hand out and she gripped it and turned his hand over.

  “Are you wearing nail polish young man?”

  “Mama,” I interrupted, “Leave him alone.”

  “I was asking the young man a question.”

  “Max. Max Patel.”

  “Are you from America?”

  “Mama!”

  “My dad’s Indian. My mom’s American.”

  “I see. Well. Are you wearing a shirt without a collar today?”

  “Mama! Can we please get out of Max’s room and talk?”

  “Max needs to hear what I have to say. There are doctors outside and they’re here to test us for the disease and to quarantine us together.”

  “What?!” Max and I yelled at the same time.

  “What do you mean quarantine together?” I asked.

  My mother grabbed both of our hands and dragged us into our kitchen. Holy fuck. This was serious. Guys in these white space suit type things stared at us with serious looks on their face.

  “It turns out your father has relapsed which means we may all have this disease. They took me in last night and I made them bring me here in their little van… now you two sit down and get tested.”

  “I don’t feel sick,” Max said.

  “I’m sorry Mr. Patel, but can you sit down?”

  One doctor sat Max down and he brought out a long swab and shoved it up Max’s nose. Max cried out as two other people held him down. Holy fuck.

  “Do I have to do that?!”

  “Yes, darling. And so do I. Now sit.”

  My mom and I sat down and we had the same test done to us. Holy fucking hell, it hurt.

  “When do we get the results?”

  “Two days.”

  “Holy fuck. I have work to do,” I grumbled.

  “I’m sorry, but you aren’t to leave the house at all.”

  Great. Now I wasn’t just quarantined with Max… but my mom too. Since when did my mama have the right to move in?

  36

  MAX PATEL

  The last thing I wanted to do was spend my time in quarantine with an old Southern woman who disapproved of me and Tony. Was this a joke? Unfortunately, the doctors were clear. Quarantine might be over for Boston, but for the two of us, quarantine had just begun. Day one was a nightmare. Tony and his mother spent all day in the living room whispering to each other. Maybe she was whispering in Tony’s ear on how to get rid of me. Poison? Smothering? Whatever, I was probably being way too paranoid about it.

  I opened my email to begin the job search again when I saw something I hadn’t seen in a while. A red flag. Not a warning sign, that little “new email” sign was like an oasis in my desert of an inbox. I smashed down on the recent email and read the best news of my life. Great. Shitty “potentially infected” quarantine and now I have a job interview.

  The firm was in Boston. A brewery called “Monkey Bread Beer Co.” needed someone to revamp their website and social media design and produce ongoing assets for the company. Fuck. That was perfect. A young, diverse group of young millennials, and me... potentially having a job that paid enough to put a roof over my head. I wanted to tell Tony about it so badly, but he was still talking to his mom. Damn in.

  Julissa: Hey x

  I rolled my eyes. What the hell did Julissa want now?

  Me: What?

  Julissa: I’m sorry for being a bitch.

  Me: Whatever.

  Julissa: Not whatever. It matters. I was a total bitch, and I had no right to come over and fuck with you.

  Me: What’s done is done.

  Julissa: I know I deserve it.

  Me: What made you come to your senses?

  Julissa: I dumped Mark.

  I snickered. Okay. Mean and catty of me, but yeah. I bet she dumped him. Maybe she questioned him about Tony. Maybe she caught him with another guy.

  Me: Oh?

  Julissa: He lied to me.

  Me: About what?

  Julissa: I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry. Can I come over? Lockdown over and chill?

  Me: Can’t. Under quarantine.

  Julissa: WTF, were you exposed?!

  Julissa: !!! Was it that asshole?

  That asshole. Was she talking about Tony? Julissa had no reason to talk about Tony like that. He was there for me when she wasn’t. When she put me out because of her fucking boyfriend, Tony took me in.

  Me: Sort of. We’re stuck at home.

  Julissa: After this, we should move in together.

  I sighed. The moment of truth. I had a job in
terview. Two more weeks of quarantine than the rest of the city. And a man I loved.

  Me: I’m good. We get along way better when we don’t live together.

  Julissa: Mark left me high and dry. IDK how I’m going to pay rent.

  Me: Job?

  Julissa didn’t reply to me. Tony pushed my door open and walked into the room. Shirtless. Taking me by surprise. Tony’s shirtlessness always took me by surprise because he looked too fucking good.

  “Hey, what you doing?”

  “I got a job interview.”

  Tony’s face lit up.

  “No fucking way.”

  “Yup. I’m pretty excited. Where’s your mom?”

  “She’s taking a nap in my bed. Figured we could chill here and watch Project Runway.”

  I raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

  “You want to watch Project Runway?”

  “Or someone bake one of those fattening cakes.”

  Tony slid his ass into my bed, making himself at home beneath my comforter without my permission.

  “Okay... Cooking show. But no cakes. I want to watch the Barefoot Contessa episode where she makes striped bass and couscous.”

  Tony grimaced.

  “Are you joking?”

  “Nope. I’m not joking. And I am absolutely not putting out until you can tell me how to make the perfect meringue when we’re done.”

  Tony groaned and rubbed his temples.

  “How did I get into this mess,” he grunted.

  “I don’t know if I should tell you this…”

  “Tell me what?”

  “My sister broke up with her boyfriend.”

  Tony’s cheeks darkened.

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t know if she found out about him and you or what.”

  “I’m tired of my hookups walking through my front door.”

  “So you regret me moving in here?”

  Tony rolled his eyes.

  “No. Obviously not. Now get in here before I lose my patience, bend you over and fuck you.”

  “Jesus Christ, Tony, language!” I chided in a mock Southern accent.

  Tony grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bed.

  “For the record, Patel, your accent is fucking terrible.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tony kissed me. A warm, perfect kiss that made me forget that we were here because either of us could have contracted a potentially deadly virus. But in quarantine, the world around you disappears and even with that underlying fear, what was more important was that we had each other to hold on to. My apologies for this blasphemy, but fuck the Barefoot Contessa. She could wait.

  I pulled Tony on top of me and kissed him, hard. His cock stiffened against my thigh and I rolled him onto his back. He raked his fingers through my hair and stroked my cheek.

  “You grow a lot of stubble, Patel,” he murmured.

  “You like it,” I teased.

  He didn’t deny it. His hands wandered to my ass, and he pulled me into him. My cock was so hard, it nearly burst through my pants. I couldn’t wait any longer. I yanked his pants down and kissed his abs, licking each spot I kissed on the way down. When I got Tony’s underwear off, I kissed the length of his shaft and licked the tip until Tony moaned. I spread his thighs apart, tonguing his balls and then spreading his firm muscular ass cheeks with my tongue, flattening it against his tight backdoor.

  I got his ass wet with my tongue as my hand pumped his cock to firm arousal until it lay stiff against his chest with the tip touching his navel. I squirted lube against his ass and all over my cock to help me along and positioned my cock at Tony’s tight entrance, gritting my teeth as I slid into his ass.

  37

  TONY STONE

  Mama slept on the couch, which meant sneaking back to my room gave me the same jitters and anxieties that sneaking out did during high school. I mostly snuck out to shoot cans with the boys or to drive donuts in cornfields. This time was different. In the morning, I woke up to Max and my mother arguing outside of my room in the kitchen. I stared at my watch. It was early. Too early for Max to be up.

  Jesus H Christ, what could they be getting into? Being quarantined with Max was bad enough, but my mother living in the same house with us made everything unimaginably worse. Just as the city was opening up and everyone was living their normal lives, I got stuck with Max Patel and my southern Christian mother.

  I grunted and slipped an old football team t-shirt over my bare chest.

  I pushed my door opened and my mama thrust her hands on her hips and scowled at me.

  "Anthony, I want you to explain to this young man that iced tea ought to be sweet. I don’t care how they do it at that Dunkin’ Donuts."

  "You two are up at seven in the morning arguing over sweet tea?"

  "I enlisted this young man to help me make you breakfast but instead of helping, he ruins the tea!"

  "Mama, I don't want a big breakfast. I want a protein shake and a cup of coffee."

  My mama raised her eyebrows.

  "You still drink coffee?"

  Max pursed his lip and his annoying judgmental way, and his eyebrows moved like caterpillars as he struggled to hold back a laugh. Yes, I'm a grown man whose mother still thinks she can run his life. Name a man whose mother doesn't feel the same way.

  "If we are going to be quarantined together, believe me, I need coffee."

  "You don't need coffee. You need Jesus!"

  We stared at each other for a moment and I glowered at her.

  "What do you mean I need Jesus?"

  "I meant nothing by it. But you could use a healthy dose of Jesus in your life. Everybody can."

  Max's eyes were now wide open as he glanced back and forth between us. His thirst for drama never ceased to surprise me...

  I chided my mother, "Oh, you meant it. You meant that maybe if I had some Jesus in my life I wouldn't live this ‘lifestyle’ you disapprove of so much.”

  "Now, those are your words."

  "Jesus H Christ —

  “Language, Anthony!”

  "Don't tell me about my language mama!"

  "I can't tell you about your language, I can't tell you about your lifestyle, doesn't your mother have rights?"

  "You have the right to focus on your own life."

  "I don't want my son to run around dabbling with deviants!"

  Max snickered.

  "Deviant. I haven't heard that one in a while."

  "Mama that is enough!"

  "Don't you raise your voice with me, young man."

  "Don't disrespect my boyfriend!"

  The word slipped out, and my cheeks flushed mulberry. I instantly regretted it because Max and my mother both screamed, “Boyfriend?!”

  Oh fuck.

  “You two are pissing me off. I want coffee. I want a protein shake. And then for five fucking minutes, I want this apartment to be silent!”

  My mom nudged Max in his side. He wore an oversized black tank with cut out sleeves so his abs poked through, and tight black jeans. So tight I couldn’t help but feel my gaze wander to his crotch.

  "Is he always this cranky before coffee?" my mother whispered.

  "He's worse most of the time," Max admitted.

  Then they both smiled and started laughing like they were sharing some kind of inside joke.

  "I am standing right here."

  Max turned to my mother with arms folded and asked, "so, deviant? Do I really seem like a deviant?"

  "Well honey, I don't know what you boys are up to these days, but black nail polish?"

  She took Max's hand, and he shrugged.

  "My mom hates it too. But I think it looks cool. Edgy."

  "You have got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath.

  "Maybe if it was in another color. But Max, black is the devil's color."

  Max chuckled.

  “Would you rather hot pink?”

  My mama pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “I understand you
loving who you love, but men ought to be men, child.”

  Max seemed to find her casual homophobia amusing.

  "Are you two done having a bonding moment? I need caffeine."

  My mama eventually set down a cup of coffee. But she had not given up on her project to make me an overly sweet and over the top breakfast. Pancakes, strawberry compote, and bacon. Lots of bacon. You would swear we could go out for the next two weeks and not have to have healthcare workers bring us food.

  "Mama doesn't really make sense for us to use up all this food?"

  "Anthony, it has been a very long time since we lived together but I want you to know that when I am in the household, I run the kitchen."

  Her precarious grasp of the wooden spoon deterred me from arguing with her. After breakfast, my mother went into my bedroom to get some work done at my desk. Back in Texas, she was hosting a philanthropy ball that the pandemic moved to until October. It was a complete mess. At least that left me some time alone with Max.

  From the annoying smirk on his face, I could tell that he would go right for the boyfriend comment.

  "So… Boyfriend?"

  "It was a slip of the tongue."

  "Tony, you think I don't know you by now?"

  "Whatever."

  "You don't have to act so closed off all the time," Max said, running his fingers through my hair and kissing my forehead.

  Fuck. I needed that kiss. And the coffee. And I needed Max curled up with me on the couch instead of the bitter chill of answering bullshit client emails all day.

  "I have work to do. When is your interview?"

  "This evening at 6 PM."

  "Good luck.”I gave him a peck on the lips and Max held my cheeks, kissing me harder back. Fuck. Kissing him would never get old. Boyfriend. Maybe there was some world where I could make that work.

  38

  MAX PATEL

  Quarantine dates aren’t the same. There isn’t the ambiance of being seen in love. I think that’s half the fun of dates anyway, flaunting that you fucking found someone to the rest of the world. Otherwise we’d stay home and stuff our asses with pizza, then roll over and have filthy hot, bloated sex.