Rory's Rock

Chapter 1-3

After stripping off his clothes in his cold and dark bedroom and putting on a rarely used pair of pajamas—he normally just slept in an old pair of boxers—a shivering Rory exited his room and dashed across the hallway into the bathroom. The tiled room was even darker and colder than his bedroom. With no hot water, Rory did the bare minimum and, shivering even harder, dropped off his toiletries back in his room before walking down the almost pitch black hallway to stand outside Zane’s room. Rory paused at the door, hand raised, ready to knock. Could he go through with this? Shouldn’t he just go back to his own room? It, or more likely he, would be so hard lying so close to the object of his affections but not able to act on them. He knew the framers of the Bill of Rights hadn’t had his situation in mind when they wrote of cruel and unusual punishment, but…this situation definitely fit. Rory lowered his arm and turned away. Then he imagined seeing the look of disappointment or confusion on Zane’s face in the morning, so he turned back. But what if he had a nightmare, cried out? Rory was not a passive sleeper, he regularly woke with the sheets wound around him. Would it be fair on Zane to have to deal with all of that? And how would Rory explain his actions? Rory was about to turn away from the door once again when it opened to reveal Zane, holding a saucer on which stood a lighted candle.

“Get lost in the dark?” Zane asked.

“Uh, no, I…” Rory’s mouth had gone dry.

Zane stepped back, opened the door more widely, and gestured for Rory to enter. “Is the bathroom free?”

“Was a couple minutes ago.” Rory stepped into the room. It smelled of Zane, or rather the woodsy cologne he sometimes wore.

Zane turned his back on Rory and reached into his closet. After slinging a towel over his shoulder and picking up a Scooby Doo toiletry bag, he said, “Radio should still work if you want me to turn it on.”

Rory didn’t, but then thought it might be useful to hear the local weather report, so nodded his agreement.

Once alone, Rory looked around the room. A candle flickered on the nightstand on the bed’s right side. Did this indicate the side Zane slept on, or the side Rory should use? The bitter cold soon persuaded him to make a decision. As the unlighted side of the bed was closest, that was where Rory headed.

Rory shivered and shuffled around under the covers in an effort to get comfortable. Zane’s mattress was firmer than what he was used to. As he lay, listening to the country music playing softly on the radio, Rory remembered his tablet. It was next door in his room. He usually read for a while as sleep rarely came easily. But he didn’t relish the prospect of getting up, going next door, and searching around in the pitch black and cold. Even if he did go get his tablet, the light from the screen might disturb Zane. Rory determined he’d just have to lie there, hoping sleep would eventually claim him. This was unlikely, given that this was a strange bed and he wasn’t used to sleeping with anyone.

As he waited for Zane to return, Rory gave the man’s room a closer examination. It held the same type of mismatched furniture his did. Dresser, straight-backed chair, nightstands—two as against Rory’s one. His room was a sanctuary, he’d never had his own room in any of the group homes. However, Rory often had to tell himself he mustn’t allow his room to become his prison, so he’d made a determined effort to socialize with his cowboy family.

“Did they say anything about the storm?” Zane asked, coming back into the room.

Rory yawned and shook his head.

Zane approached Rory’s side of the bed and set the candle on the nightstand.

In truth, Rory hadn’t been paying the radio any mind. He mostly listened to classical music, not that he would admit that to anyone.

Zane listened for a few moments then looked at his wrist watch. “It’s KZNF’s Lover’s Hour.”

Rory raised an eyebrow. The other eyebrow joined its mate when Zane started to get undressed. Under his black shirt was a blue Superman T-shirt that amazingly seemed a size or two too large for Zane’s hulking frame. Rory’s fingers itched to trace the stylized S stretched over the center of Zane’s chest.

The surprises continued when Zane undid the belt on his jeans and lowered them to reveal a pair of Batman boxers.

As he hung up his clothes, Zane explained how the station played romantic songs between nine and ten.

Rory’s brain couldn’t process the idea that this hot bear of a man was undressing in front of him and was about to share a bed with him. Even though his brain was struggling, Rory’s d**k had no such problems. It was sitting up and taking notice. Rory looked down, but fortunately the blankets hid his arousal. Rory looked back at Zane just in time to see the man lifting the hem of his tee to reveal a huge swath of belly hair. Rory couldn’t breathe. However, Zane seemed to change his mind and let the tee fall back in place, hiding all that glorious bear fur. Rory let out a sigh.

“Each year on their anniversary Mom calls the station and requests a song for Dad.” Zane smiled, shook his head, and got into bed, the box springs complaining quietly at the extra burden. “Dad says I was conceived after one request and that’s why they called me Zane, after the station…well, sort of. They couldn’t call me KZNF.”

Rory smiled.

Zane turned to Rory, who’d inched his way to the edge of the mattress. Zane seemed to take up more than half of the bed. “Want to listen until the news? Shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Sure.” Rory thought again about going to get his tablet, but it was surprisingly warm in the bed now Zane was in it with him.

Zane was right, there was only a couple more sappy ballads requested by wives to husbands or girlfriends to their boyfriends, before a commercial break followed by the news. Rory shivered when the newscaster mentioned that the worst of the ice storm was yet to hit their county, and further power lines were expected to come down.

“Cold?” Zane asked, snaking out a hairy arm to pull Rory in closer.

“Uh.”

The big guy had no sense of personal space. He regularly hugged those he was conversing with. Rory enjoyed such interactions, although they were always bittersweet because the hug would soon end and Rory would be left unsatisfied. Those hugs would never, could never, escalate into anything more.

But this hug didn’t seem to be coming to an end anytime soon. The bed, or was it Rory, was feeling very toasty.

Zane let out a jaw-splitting yawn, farted, then asked if Rory wanted the candles out and the radio off.

“Whatever you want,” Rory said, ending the sentence on a yawn.

Zane withdrew his arm, got out of bed, turned off the radio, climbed back under the covers, then blew out his candle. “Can you get the one at your side?”

“Sure.” Rory levered himself up and blew at his candle. It didn’t go out first time so Rory blew again. Settling back, he couldn’t make up his mind if he was disappointed or relieved Zane didn’t pull him into another hug.

“Night, little dude,” Zane said in the darkness. “Mom says my snores are enough to wake the dead, so give me a nudge if I get too loud.”

Rory, who lay awake most nights, often heard Zane’s snores through the wall, but if anything, the rhythmic sounds gave him a strange sense of reassurance. “Uh, okay. Goodnight.” Rory stared up at the ceiling, although as the room was pitch black, he couldn’t see anything.

Almost immediately Zane began to snore softly. Rory closed his eyes, turned on his side to face away from Zane, and let out a slow, steady breath and tried to relax.