Eromenos

by Theda Black

“My phone’s dead, Mandy. I didn’t realize. He had to give me a message. He didn’t know we were, uh … it was an accident,” Xander improvised.

  Mandy looked at Seth and back at Xander. She shrugged, her face smoothing. “Yeah, okay. I’ll let you get to it, then.”

  Seth looked at her and had an almost surreal moment when he noticed her nipples were still stiff. Like they were staring at him. He tried not to stare back.

  “Get to what?” Xander asked.

  She sighed, annoyed. “Your message. If it was so important he interrupted us, shouldn’t you take care of it?” She shook her head slowly, looking at both of them in turn. “I should stop coming to these keggers.” She walked away.

  Xander stared after her a minute. He blew a long breath of air out, fanning the hair hanging over his forehead. “She really likes me, doesn’t she?”

  Somehow Seth found himself laughing. It almost made him want to puke again, and it hurt his head, but he couldn’t stop.

  7

  SETH CRACKED AN eye open, ran his tongue around his mouth and tried to swallow. So dry. His head still hurt.

  It was dark. He heard something. Music? Like a flute or something. It faded in and out, lilting. He blinked at the clock, the LCD display a blurred, glowing blue. Four in the morning.

  Xander moved restlessly in his bed across the room, muttering something that Seth couldn’t and didn’t want to make out. The last thing in the world he wanted to think about was Xander and his dreams. Or Xander in his dreams. He’d been having more than a few of those.

  He strained to listen anyway and heard the faint music again, wondering where the hell it came from. Down the hall, maybe?

  Seth turned over, scrunching his eyes tightly together against the memory of last night. He didn’t want to remember.

  Crap. He’d pined his way through a starring role in a very bad chick flick. He remembered Xander’s face in the dark room, in the hallway, saw the confusion in his eyes.

  Seth stifled a groan. He felt his face flush even in the dark. This shit had to end, one way or the other. He was not going to humiliate himself again over something that existed only in his own mind and dreams.

  Xander turned, moaning in his sleep, low and rough.

  Seth flung the covers off the bed, rushed to Xander’s bunk and sat on the side. “Can’t you for once just sleep?” he yelled.

  Xander’s eyes opened, seeing nothing, then closed. His mouth opened. He pushed the covers down restlessly. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, his skin smooth, blue-shadowed.

  Seth’s eyes moved down, couldn’t stop himself, saw white moonlight glance over a hipbone, saw a faint line of hair run below his navel and disappear beneath the sweats Xander wore to bed. Seth’s fingers twitched. He jammed a hand through his hair. He had to move, do something with his hands. Fuck.

  He’d humiliated himself only a few hours ago, and damned if he wasn’t getting a hard-on over Xander again. He felt his whole body tighten. He wanted to hit something. Someone.

  He leaned forward, gripped Xander by the shoulders and shook him hard.

  Xander muttered something Seth couldn’t make out and squirmed against his grip. There was no power behind it. Xander wouldn’t wake up.

  Seth shook him again, unease rising through the anger.

  Sweat gleamed on Xander’s upper lip, pooled in the hollow of his throat. His lips moved, murmuring things Seth didn’t understand, names he didn’t know except through old myths. His voice rose, rough and urgent and rushed. None of it made sense.

  Black shadows draped the corners of the moonlit room. Xander’s skin was warm and smooth beneath Seth’s fingers as he droned on, sounding more than a little nuts, sounding like a fuck-ton of crazy, and still, still, Seth’s damned hard-on wouldn’t go away.

  “Shut up!” Seth yelled right into his face.

  Xander’s forehead wrinkled. He made a noise like something hurt.

  Seth’s stomach sank so hard he felt nauseous, like he’d done something horribly wrong.

  “Xander, please?” Seth whispered.

  Xander’s eyes flew open, staring up at the ceiling. “He won’t leave me alone. He wants me to come home.” His hands formed fists. Veins traced his arms, caught in moonlight on his shadowed skin. “I don’t want to go.”

  Seth slid his grip over Xander’s shoulders and down to his hands, curled against his own. He hated himself for a moment, that he still wanted to touch him that way. Xander needed help.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Seth asked. His voice sounded years younger and Seth hated that, too, so he repeated himself. “What’s wrong?” He sounded cold and hard even to his own ears. His stomach sank some more.

  Xander blinked. He tugged his fists away. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing, right. You’ve had dreams almost every single night. You’re fucking driving me crazy!”

  Xander pulled in a shaky breath. “You and me both.” He looked afraid. Then the fear was gone, vanished. Seth did a double-take.

  Xander gave a slow smile, propping himself on an elbow. His fists opened, relaxing. “Crazy what way?” He reached, hand circling Seth’s wrist, rubbing his pulse with gentle fingers. Xander’s eyes were dilated and dark, face slack with sleep and something more. His other hand rubbed over Seth’s arm and around the back of his neck, pulling him close. Closer.

  “What the fuck?” Seth breathed. “What are you—you’re not—you’re straight—let me go!”

  “Sometimes I am.” Xander grinned a little, but his fingers tightened on the nape of Seth’s neck as if grounding himself before he let go.

  Seth’s head pounded, breathing fast, near panicked. He pushed Xander so he fell back on the bed. “Sometimes? How does that go, the sometimes-gay thing?”

  “Bi. Twice as nice.” Confusion and something wary, maybe fearful, grew on Xander’s face.

  Fear of what, Seth didn’t know. It made his chest ache.

  He didn’t understand any of this. The only thing he understood was how he felt about Xander, and that he didn’t want to feel it.

  He wasn’t sure if Xander was completely aware of what he was doing at this point, had a weird feeling Xander didn’t have much control over himself. Though it was possible he was playing games, screwing with Seth’s head.

  He ignored the voice in his head that told him Xander would never do that. He had no idea what the hell was going on with him. It made him nervous.

  “Seth. I can’t stop the dreams from coming. They’re getting stronger. I—I think he hurt Harvey.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”

  “Him who, Xander? They’re just dreams!”

  “If they’re just dreams then why do I keep hearing yours in my head? Why do I know—”

  Seth’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Xander looked away, struggled to regain his composure. “Nothing. You’re right, they’re just dreams.” He took a deep breath. “Go back to bed.” His expression cleared suddenly, like earlier. He smiled, quick flash of teeth in the dim room. “Unless you want to stay.”

  The air left Seth’s lungs in a rush. He opened his mouth but it took another try before he could speak. “Go to sleep.” His voice sounded hoarse, uncertain. He didn’t move. Couldn’t think. Didn’t want to go.

  Xander put an arm under his head and stared glassy-eyed at the ceiling. “Yeah.”

  Seth stared at him. Wasn’t waiting for Xander to look at him, to ask one more time. He wasn’t. He made himself stand and walk away.

  It was like a bad dream all his own.

  8

  SETH WOKE ON the following day with what was surely a life-threatening hangover. The morning and afternoon blurred together endlessly. Early evening found Seth at yet another party—with friends that didn’t include Xander.

  Over the next few days, without really thinking about it, he avoided his room. Avoided Xander. At night there was no escape. He was awakened time and again, feeling
like a voyeur and a prisoner.

  The dreams still sounded intensely sexual, but also darker. Out-and-out nightmares. The sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet, if Xander still took them, obviously weren’t working.

  Seth cracked open an eyelid early Saturday morning, just as the door to the hall closed quietly. Xander had left. Seth slept in, exhausted, until his cell phone woke him in the early afternoon. It was Dave.

  “Xander around?”

  “Why call me if you want Xander? And no, he took off.” Seth yawned.

  “I’m worried about him.”

  Seth sat up in bed. “What’s going on?”

  “Are you telling me you haven’t noticed? He’s been like a damn ghost lately.”

  “Of course I have. I just…I’m pretty sure he’d hate us talking about him.”

  “Look, something’s really wrong. It’s not just the thing with the Professor, either.”

  “Do you know about the dreams?” The words rushed out of Seth before he could stop. “Wait, the professor?”

  “What dreams?”

  “He has them constantly, and he spouts off these names in his sleep like they’re fucking torturing him, and he…it’s just really fucking weird, okay? Baphomet is one. There are others. Crazy shit.”

  “Baphomet? Like, Satanic?”

  “I guess.”

  There was a pause, then Dave said, “Wait. He crashed at my room one night, before you moved in. He was drunk off his ass. Sounded like he had an amazing sex dream.” His voice was wry, amused. “Didn’t seem like a problem.”

  “It’s definitely a problem.”

  Dave laughed, then coughed as if to cover it.

  “I mean, not for me—except for waking me up all the time.” Seth sounded more awkward with every word, and he knew it.

  “If you say so.” Dave laughed outright, the asshole.

  In the end, they agreed to meet at the library. Seth got the feeling Dave wanted to see him, compare notes if need be. Maybe it’d help them understand what was happening with Xander.

  Seth dressed and headed for a coffee shop, afterward walking to the main campus library. He pulled a few books off the reference shelves and went to look for Dave. He was already there, sitting at one of the wooden tables.

  “Okay, here we go.” Dave spoke quietly, pointing at a line in an oversized book in front of him. “Baphomet, right? Xander said that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So why in hell would Xander dream about a pagan deity tied in with the occult and Satanism?”

  “Not just sometimes. He dreams every night. Names all kinds of mythological figures.” Seth looked down at the book in front of him. “Like this one. Agreus. He is…” he kept reading a few seconds more, then continued, “apparently there’s more than one god identified as Pan, and he’s one of them. Sose, his mother, was a prophetess.”

  Dave raised skeptical eyes to Seth’s. Blond hair stuck up in a clump off his head from where he’d propped it against his hand. He looked sleepy. “So you’re telling me Xander is dreaming about a Satanic avatar and a god? The Greek god with the pipes? Horny bastard, part goat?”

  “This is exactly what I’m telling you. And I’m not finished.” Seth held up a finger. “He’s mentioned cambion.” He bent over the book. “Which is...let's see...the offspring of a human and an incubus or succubus, depending.”

  “You know, I thought we could help with this somehow, if we knew more. But unless Xander is involved in some kind of Satanism or other weird religion and it’s bothering him someway, I got nothing. He’s not taking any kind of, I don’t know, mythology courses?”

  “Nope.”

  Dave stared at him. “So. Xander’s going nuts. Dreaming of demons and gods and sex twenty-four seven.”

  “He’s not going nuts.”

  “Well, what do you call it?”

  “I wish the fuck I knew.” Seth paused. “I feel like shit talking about this. He doesn’t want anyone to know. Hell, he doesn’t want me to know, but he can’t help it. The dreams are non-stop, and they’re making him sick. I’m worried. And he’s driving me crazy.”

  “Not his fault you have the hots for him, Seth.”

  Seth stared at Dave. “Shut up. I’m not getting much sleep. He’s getting even less. It’s affecting my classes.” Seth thought a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me he’s bi?”

  Dave looked surprised. “I thought you knew.”

  “How would I know?”

  “Well, how about last weekend, moron? Didn’t you see him leave with Carlos from Paul’s place after the game?”

  “Oh. No.”

  “Oh. Yeah. And why are you asking? You still hoping to get on that train?”

  “Well, why’d you make me think I didn’t have a…you know, a chance with him? At the keg party?”

  “The way you were acting, mooning over him, I assumed he’d turned you down.” Dave rolled his eyes. “But you never talked to him, did you?”

  “Drop it.”

  “I’m just saying. That’s stupid.”

  “He’s my roommate.”

  Dave flapped a hand at him. “Okay, okay. Dropped. What are we going to do about all this? He can’t keep going on no sleep with his class load, not to mention his afternoon job.”

  “Jesus, Dave.” Seth sighed. “What the hell are we supposed to do? It’s all kinds of creepy, looking up stuff from his dreams. If it helps, then yeah, it’s worth it, but so far I’m just as confused as ever. We still don’t have a clue why he’s having them.”

  “Talk to him.”

  “Talk to him,” Seth repeated flatly. “What’s that gonna do? You talk to him if you think it’ll make a difference.”

  Dave stared at him. “You live with the guy. You’re worried, obviously, but—” Dave looked more closely at Seth, who was already shaking his head, “—you’re not gonna talk to him.”

  Seth looked away. “No, I’m not. I haven’t been, lately. At least not much.” He sighed. “Look, he’s my friend, yeah, but I’m really, really tired of trying to deal with…stuff about him. I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “Really.” Dave’s brows rose. “That’s why you’re here at the library now, then.”

  “Whatever. I don’t owe him.”

  Dave’s eyes narrowed. “Far be it from me to go self-help guru on your ass, but it’s plain to see you need to get some things off your chest. Talk to the man. He thinks you’re pissed at him.”

  “He doesn’t think I’m pissed at him.”

  Dave shook his head disbelievingly. “No? Well hey, I guess you gotta believe what you gotta believe.” Dave shut his book and put it away. “Me, I gotta go.” He shook his head again and crammed the rest of his things into his backpack without looking at Seth. He walked away without saying goodbye.

  Seth stared after Dave, then grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. His brain was jumbled with too much crazy shit. He needed a change of pace, fresh air, something. Anything.

  He didn’t know where to go. He ended up jogging the winding walkways around the library, on toward the dorm and then past, round and round. The wind blew hard enough to make his eyes tear. He ran until he couldn’t anymore, gasping for breath, legs shaking. He bent over, holding onto his knees. When he could walk he made it back to the dorm. He went to bed and fell asleep again, getting up only when he needed the bathroom.

  That night Seth stared up the ceiling while another of Xander’s dreams played out. There’s this, always this, every single night. Only way to get away is change dorm rooms again.

  Xander woke. Unlike most times, he didn’t hide it. His voice was quiet, tired. “I’m sorry, Seth. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Why are you dreaming this stuff, Xander?”

  “I told you once. I’m pretty sure you didn’t believe me.”

  “You told me somebody wanted you to come home.”

  “Yeah,” Xander said, soft. He didn’t say anything else.

  Seth lay there, thinking. He saw h
imself at the keg party, spinning fantasies about himself and Xander in his head. He remembered going after him. Opening the door. Seeing Xander’s hands all over Mandy, his long body over hers, mouth covering hers. He was tired and on edge and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about Xander. Wanting him.

  Somehow it seemed like Xander’s fault.

  “Maybe you need to get some help. Talk to the people in the psych department. They have a sliding fee scale if you need to see someone,” he said slowly.

  “You know this how?”

  “I’m smart is how.” I checked is how.

  “I told Harvey about what I see in my dreams. He went crazy.”

  “Nobody goes crazy because you talk about your dreams, Xander.” Seth’s voice rose as he spoke.

  “Remember the football game that day? How the whole damn team acted?” Xander looked at Seth, considering. “Except for you.”

  “Because you don’t throw off some damn sex god vibe, that’s why.” Seth sighed. “Try and sleep.”

  Xander rolled over. Even from across the room, Seth could see the rigid line of his body.

  He couldn’t let it go. “So…who’re you dreaming about? I heard you say some names.” What fucking crazy questions to be asking in the middle of the night.

  “Now you sound like a shrink.”

  Seth sighed. “Just tell me. Where’s home? What does he want?”

  “The dreams used to be…good. Just—I was in the mountains, fresh air, green trees. Peaceful, very calm. There was an isolated village. It’s his home. But now the dreams are only about him. About sex. Him fucking somebody, me fucking somebody, sometimes worse. Violent. I have no say in any of it. He’s in my body. He’s…using it. I can see what he’s doing.”

  “And you don’t know anything about where this home is?”

  “Up in the mountains somewhere is all I know, and…goddammit, the dreams don’t stop, don’t give me a break or let me rest—and now he’s threatening me. He put me in Harvey’s head that last day, let me feel how fucked up he was.” He looked over his shoulder, and even in the dark Seth saw the stillness and misery in his face and something else, maybe defeat. “I know you think I’m crazy.”