Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Jason crossed the living room and set the kit down on his glass coffee table before hoisting the man into a sitting position, ignoring his pained protests.
“C’mon, we gotta fix you up,” Jason grunted under the unresponsive man’s weight, “I can’t do that if you’re lying down.”
The other groaned but complied, shifting into an upright position to give Jason better access to bruised ribs and several bloody cuts that were scattered across his face and arms.
Jason dressed the wounds quickly and efficiently, only opening his mouth to make quiet apologies and request that the man move to help him treat the injuries more easily. The other did as he was asked, although movements were docile and sluggish. Jason quietly took in the damage that he saw. Bruises were already forming and the swelling was overtaking some areas of his body. He wondered what the man had done to deserve such a beating, what anyone does to deserve the pain and broken skin.
After he was done, Jason helped the man maneuver into a more comfortable position on the couch and then made to walk away, his mind set on sleeping off this unexpected adventure for the next twelve hours. In the light of the apartment, Jason let himself examine the others features more closely, all sharp angles and points, looking a lot more princely than Jason could ever hope to achieve. That sense of nobility was only increased by the deep black shade of his hair paired with unnaturally piercing grey eyes. Jason couldn't help the stare he involuntarily gave when he first looked into eyes like that. So deep and haunting, yet so icy at the same time.
Suddenly, he felt a hand grip his arm lightly and the other man spoke, weary but with a tinge of gratefulness painting his tone, “Hey… thanks for all of this,” the man dropped his hand from Jason’s wrist, looking embarrassed, “You really didn’t have to.”
Jason turned to look at the man and smiled a bit more tired than he thought he was, replying, “I really did. What kind of jerk would I be if I had left you alone there to patch yourself up?”
The man returned his smile and said, “Anderson.”
“What?”
“My name. Anderson Lewis.”
Jason shook his head and let out an airy laugh. “Oh. Well, Anderson, I suggest you get some rest––we’re talking about all of this tomorrow. Don’t think you’re off the hook just because I let you into my apartment the first time we met.” Anderson nodded, looking like he was half asleep already. “Jason. Jason Reed,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
Not waiting for a response, Jason turned and walked into his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed fully clothed. The tried to shut out the evening, realizing that he intervened with a total stranger; an action that could have had a very different outcome should the man's aggressors have been armed. While he was still hyped on the anxiety, the profound exhaustion hit him and he was out in seconds.
Jason shot up from his bed the next morning with his heart pounding, already halfway across the room before his mind caught up with him, reminding him that it was finally summer and that he did not, in fact, have class today. With only one class scheduled, there were five days unaccounted for each week for his leisure. He breathed out a sigh of relief, which turned into a yawn.
Stretching and shuffling to the bathroom, he splashed some water on his face and attempted to brush the fuzziness out of his mouth.
Staring blearily at himself in the mirror, he ran the toothbrush across his teeth, still caught halfway between asleep and awake. Seeing someone else staring back at him was the last thing he had expected. Coughing and spluttering, he leaned over the sink to spit the foamy mixture out his mouth; choking on toothpaste would be the most pathetic way to die. Looking up again, he met the man’s––Anderson’s––amused look with a glare, feeling unreasonably victimized. It was much too early to have a sense of humor.
Anderson gave him a slight wave and said cheerfully, “Morning! Sleep well?”
Finally recovering from his momentary shock, Jason pointed at him accusingly and said in an outraged tone, “You did that on purpose, didn't you?”
Anderson laughed, and Jason scowled in response, crossing his arms. “It's not funny.”
The man snickered once more and patted the seat on the couch next to him and grinning, “It kind of was, though.”
Jason didn't budge from his spot in the doorway between the bathroom and living room, biting out roughly, “It really wasn't.”
Instead, he headed into the kitchen and began to fuss over a very much needed cup of coffee, ignoring Anderson’s attempts to start a conversation. Not this early in the morning; not while he was still trying to escape from the clutches of sleep.
Finally, with two steaming hot drinks in his hands, Jason sat down on the couch, handing one to Anderson and settling back to take a long, grateful sip of his own. The other man grimaced and set his cup on the table. “I don’t drink coffee.”
Jason shrugged nonchalantly and replied, “Your loss, then,” and scooted the second cup closer to himself. He wasn’t insulted by Anderson’s rejection; in fact, he was content to drink both of them all on his own.
How can people survive mornings without coffee?
The room was quiet for a moment. Anderson sat with his hands folded in his lap, looking a lot less comfortable than he had the moment before. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he began awkwardly, “I... Thanks again. I really owe you.” Clearing his throat and shifting to reach into his pocket, he said, “I can give you money, if that’s what you want–”
Jason dismissed him with a wave of his arm. “No, no, I don’t need your money. I have plenty of my own,” he set the mug down, crossing his arms across his chest, “Why don’t you tell me why they beat you up, instead?”
Anderson tensed up at Jason’s words, looking off to the side. “I…” he took a deep breath, “I’m gay.”
Silence. He didn’t really know how to react to that admission. Jason thought of himself as normal; someone who didn’t get mixed up with anyone outside of his usual crowd. That didn’t mean he hated everyone who was different, they just… weren’t him. However, he also thought that everyone had a right to be whatever they wanted to be. He thought of Tommy and camp years ago. An audible sigh left him before he even realized. “And?” he urged Anderson to continue.
“And I’m out. I’m gay and I’m out and they hate that I can be confident because to them, ‘fags like me’ don’t deserve to be treated with respect. I just wanted a little bit of respect,” he let out a dry laugh, gesturing to himself, “and this what I get.” Then he froze and clamped his mouth shut, as if he suddenly remembered that he was telling a complete stranger about a very private part of his life without any way to predict how he would react.
Jason snorted. “That’s it? That’s why they beat the shit out of you?”
“Seems like it, yeah.”
“That’s stupid.”
Anderson relaxed at his words, seemingly content with Jason’s reply.
“I know.”
The conversation tapered off into a comfortable silence. Jason finished both cups of coffee and took them back to the kitchen, setting them in the sink with a loud clink. The noise seemed to pull Anderson out of his thoughts. He struggled to his feet, cursing and clutching his ribs. “I should get going,” he said in a strained voice. “And I’m sorry for ruining your night––and morning too, I guess.”
“Where do you live?” The question flew out of Jason’s mouth before he could stop it. “Just… uh, wondering if you’ll be okay, I guess?”
“I have friends. I might to stay with them.”
“But what about your place?”
Anderson swallowed, tugging at stray threads that were on his sleeve. “I don’t really… have a place.”
“What do you mean, you don’t have a place?” Jason asked, raising his eyebrows.
Anderson looked in the other direction, purposely avoiding Jason’s hard gaze. “I’ve been staying at a friend’s house lately. Ever
since I came out, my relationship with my parents has been… complicated,” he explained.
Jason blinked. “Oh.” It had never occurred to him that things like that still happened, especially with how indifferent he was to that sort of thing. He’d never had a reason to think about it, but now…
"Why are you here on summer break?" Anderson asked, as the college campus had only a few stragglers during that season.
"I've got to make up a class or I won't graduate on time. And instead of commuting twice a week that far, I just decided to stay on campus. My folks are having some big vacation with the rest of the family anyway and so I'd just be at home by myself anyhow."
"Oh, right. I don't really get on with my family since my coming out, so I just crash here with whoever will let me during the summer months."
“You can stay here, if you want.” Again, the words flowed without his own approval, and he resisted the urge to bite his tongue. I know literally nothing about this man and yet I'm offering him a place to stay? What has gotten into me?
Anderson turned to look at him sharply, and for a moment it looked like he would protest, but then he deflated, shutting his eyes. Jason waited. He couldn't take back the offer now, even though he had absolutely no idea where it'd come from. Anderson let out a slow breath and opened his eyes. “Why?” The words were muted.
Jason didn't know what to say, so he simply said the first thing that came to mind. “Because it sucks that you have to deal with stuff like that. Because I feel bad,” he paused, “because it's lonely here, all by myself.”
The other man gave him a strange look. “Don't you have friends? No offense, but I know your type, and we don't really mix well.”
Jason ran a hand through his hair but insisted, “Stay. At least until you’re fully healed. Your friend probably needs a break, too, especially if you do that early morning bathroom thing with them.”
A small smile curled on Jason's lips as he said it, hoping that Anderson took it in the manner it was meant.
Anderson bristled, but seemed to be considering the offer. After a moment, he pressed his lips together tightly and said, “Fine. Only until I'm better, though.”
Relief flooded through him, and then was quickly followed by confusion. Why was he relieved? Not bothering to dwell on that particular thought for too long, he smiled and said, “Okay! Then it's all set.”
Stretching out his hand towards Anderson, he said with a grin, “It’s nice to officially meet you! Let's get along, okay?”
The other simply nodded, returning his smile with a slight upturn of the lips.
Jason knew this was ridiculous, not to mention totally out of the blue. He also knew, that in all the years of his life, he hadn't ever done anything so outrageously unlike himself. It was impulsive. It was strange. He had several friends come and go in his life but he'd always been a solitary creature. Why change that?
Somehow, though, he couldn't really bring himself to care.
Chapter Three
The next couple months were a blur of adjusting to being part of each other’s lives, learning habits and schedules, along with way too much partying (mostly on Jason's part) and way too much worrying (mostly on Anderson’s).
“I swear, one day you're just going to keel over and die from ingesting so much alcohol, and then who's fault is that gonna be? Not mine. Nope. It's gonna be totally your own fault,” Anderson scolded, even as he handed a groaning Jason a bottle of ibuprofen and set a glass of water on his bedside table, helping him nurse yet another hangover from the previous night’s festivities.
Jason flopped down onto the bed facedown and mumbled, “It’s summer, what am I supposed to do? My class meets one hour, twice a week, there's a ton of hours left to fill.” He rolled over onto his back and looked at Anderson, not without difficulty. “I’m not like you. Where do you even go during the day? Knitting club?”
Anderson scoffed and ignored the barb. As he turned and walked out of the room, he called back over his shoulder, “Drink your water!” The front door slammed.
Gratefully draining the cup of water that Anderson had brought him, Jason took out his phone and scrolled through his messages absentmindedly––since summer had started, not only had he been invited to practically every single party in the area, but now finals were over and people had time to dress up in something other than sweats and t-shirts, it seemed to him that every girl on campus was suddenly vying for his attention. While he still had that one class and a few exams left, for the majority of those on campus it was party-central and Jason was determined to fit into that whether he needed the grade or not.
Jason wasn’t particularly interested in long term relationships like he knew some of the girls that liked him were. He usually liked to avoid anything serious, seeing college as a place to mingle and have fun rather than tie himself down to one thing––or person.
And so came his most recent conquest; a feisty and exciting cheerleader by the name of Rebecca Finley. Introduced to Jason by one of his fellow teammates, Rebecca was the type of girl that donned the studious and serious look by day, but as soon as night fell, she shed her disguise and partied harder than anyone else. She was his type of girl.
She didn’t delude herself with thoughts of love or romance; she didn’t expect him to be a perfect boyfriend. It was casual. It was comfortable. It was exactly how Jason liked it.
Tapping out a quick message thanking Rebecca for the previous night, he dropped his phone and rolled back over onto his stomach. His friends were throwing yet another party tonight, but with his head feeling it was going to split open and spill his brains out onto the bed any second, Jason doubted he would be able to make it.
Dinner with his new roommate it was, then.
Up until recently, Jason had always lived alone, and had always been under the impression that having a roommate would be something difficult and entirely not worth the trouble––but living with Anderson wasn’t bad at all. It was pretty great, actually.
Jason had found out that Anderson was a spectacular cook, and after having survived the first three years of college on a steady diet of instant ramen noodles and energy bars, real food was a welcome change.
Although he had promptly refused Anderson’s offers to pay half of the rent as payment for staying as he was perfectly capable of paying for it all on his own, the other had been adamant about repaying Jason’s hospitality somehow, and so one day, after football practice had run particularly late, Jason had come home only to be surprised by the first home-cooked meal that he had seen since he’d left home.
From then on, whenever they were both in the house during the evening, they tried to share meals. In the beginning, it was for the sake of convenience in addition to Anderson’s cooking being way too good to pass up, but after a while, it became a pleasant way for both of them to unwind, usually after a long and stressful day taking care of their own business.
The mealtimes were also a good opportunity for them to get to know each other. Jason talked about his current girlfriend, his family back home, sports, or anything else that happened to be on his mind that day, and Anderson––Anderson talked about work.
He was involved in spreading knowledge about the LGBT community and integrating it into the norms of society; as an open advocate for gay rights, he felt it was his duty to help others like him free themselves from society’s stigmas and hateful words about people like themselves.
Of course, it wasn’t his main job, but it was certainly the subject that he talked about with the most enthusiasm. It was that enthusiasm that sucked Jason in before he even realized it.
Never before had he met anyone so passionate about what they believed in; he found himself becoming Anderson’s friend and confidant, and eventually allowing the other to do the same for him. Even if it wasn’t normal, even if it wasn’t part of the typical lifestyle he had built for himself, he couldn’t bring himself to push the other way.
He’d only had a friend like this once before, b
ut Tommy was gone now.
Although Anderson had insisted on leaving as soon as his injuries were fully healed, he hadn’t really put up much of a fight when Jason had suggested that he stay; they’d both got used to having a friend around.
Smiling to himself, Jason closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. That night, his dreams were warm.
Chapter Four
Jason’s transition to consciousness was slow, like coming to the surface for a breathe of air after being submerged underwater. His senses slowly came to life one after another, the first thing he fully registered being the sound of the running shower.
Ah. Anderson’s home, he thought, propping himself up on his elbows and turning his head to check the time on his digital clock. Seven thirty. That meant he’d been sleeping all day.
Jason rubbed his eyes and then stretched his arms above his head, yawning. Swinging over the side of the bed lazily, he once again checked his phone, quickly sending replies to the texts he’d got from his friends about tonight’s party. Rebecca had sent him one as well, saying that she would be there and was waiting for him if he decided to show up; he didn’t plan to. Not tonight.
It’d been almost a week since he had last eaten dinner with his impromptu roommate, and for some reason, it made him feel weirdly off balance. They’d come to some sort of wordless consensus about spending meals together after the first few weeks under the same roof, but his recent dates with Rebecca had thrown of their dynamic. Plus, he really did need to get something other than alcohol and shitty party food into his body; even if he was an athlete, he couldn’t survive on crap alone.
Strangely, Jason found that he was anticipating finally spending some time with Anderson. He kind of missed the guy, to be honest.
Pulling on a pair of sweats over his boxer shorts, followed by a white t-shirt with a stain that looked suspiciously like coffee on the hem, Jason headed out into the kitchen and shuffled around aimlessly, waiting for Anderson to emerge from the bathroom and set today’s menu.
You May Have Met Him Page 21