Rhythm

by

John Terry Moore
 

CHAPTER 2

The room was in the older part of the university buildings.  They had a toilet and hand basin in an alcove, but showers and a bath were communal, halfway along each floor.  There was no mistaking the intention of the architects to remind students of their purpose, because two large desks sat side by side, just inside the entrance to their room.  “This is just another lecture room,” said Adam, “with our beds in it!”  Their room had two odd-sized beds; somewhere between single and double, similar to the old three-quarter size.  Between them was a god-awful cabinet with drawers which served as Patrick pointed out, “storage for all your nocturnal needs!” 

“Huh?” said Adam, uncharacteristically dumb and just a little slow for his new room-mate. 

“For the condoms and lube, dear, so you can fuck your little brains out when I’m not here at weekends!” 

“Oh,” said Adam, still not quite with it, but finally catching on with a sickly grin on his face. 

“So you got a girlfriend?” asked Pat. 

“Yeah her name’s Gayle, but y’ know, things really aren’t going anywhere.  Really just good friends, more than anything else.”  The look on Adam’s face was enough to tell Patrick to leave him alone; there was pain of some sort there, and he made a mental note not to talk too much about his relationship with his boyfriend in Adam’s company, regardless of his relaxed attitude to same-sex attracted people.  “We need some serious decorating here, Ads,” he said, creating a nickname that Adam had neither sought or even had time to approve.  But he brightened visibly, snapping out of his previous funk.  “Yeah, it is a bit Spartan Pats,” he replied, with a broad grin. 

“Touché Petal,” laughed Patrick, pleased his roomie was back on the same wavelength as him.

They took Adam’s old Falcon station wagon; which, he explained, “was the same age as him”, but ran beautifully on LPG and was so reliable.  Downtown they found a second-hand warehouse full of Victoriana and Edwardian furnishings. 

“Patrick you simply can’t buy that, it’s practically pornographic,” said Adam fearfully; now fully aware that he was in for a very different academic year than he originally thought.  Patrick’s face was wreathed in smiles as he negotiated his purchases.  There was a handsome cedar pedestal and a china chamber pot which would sit on top and eventually house a collection of ferns, perfect for a small corner where nothing else would fit in their room.  But the ‘piece` de resistance’ which caused Adam momentary horror and which would occupy place of honour, was a female display dummy, complete with ostrich feathered hat and a crimson gown with a deeply plunging neckline which would do justice to any self-respecting whore!  To top it off, Patrick included a long, flexible dildo in his purchases which he intended to hang out of a seam in the poor creature’s gown, turning her into the university’s ‘Transsexual in Residence’. 

“Fancy having a slug like that, Ads,” he gloated.  “Imagine some of the ‘Great Australian Heterosexual Males’ putting the hard word on our lovely lady here; trying their best to instigate their unwanted carnal intentions on our poor simple looking girl only to find she’s got a cock bigger than they have!”  Finally, Patrick’s sense of humour found its mark on Adam and he roared with laughter.  “You are totally insane, bro, but yes, I love her!  Let’s get her home before we get arrested!” 

*****

With their room decorated, they found their way to the student dining room and found the evening meal, buffet style, included several different pasta, and fresh salads.  There was wine for sale, but neither felt the need and after a walk around campus, they turned in for the night.  Adam had a small television which they watched and then Patrick ran a dance party CD on his laptop which they enjoyed until their eyelids grew heavier.  Finally they showered; there were two other guys there from the rowing squad who seemed nice, but it was Adam who dared look where he perhaps shouldn’t.  Patrick smiled to himself; there was a lovely natural attitude from most Australian boys which was certainly more honest than a few years ago.  In 2018, the lines between sexualities had blurred a little; bisexuality was hardly ever used as an excuse for same-sex couplings - young people simply travelled through ‘experimental sexuality’ until they decided what they wanted.  So he took Adam’s interest in his genitalia as a compliment, and despite his commitment to his partner Garry, vowed to check Adam out properly at the earliest convenience.  He couldn’t think why, but even at this early stage in their friendship, he felt a kind of familiarity about Adam; that he had met him before somewhere; that their easy and instant friendship was meant to happen.  He shook his head as a chill ran through his body.  ‘Maybe he and I met in a different life,’ he mused.  There was no doubt Adam was handsome.  With funny old-fashioned clothes like shirts with collars which actually suited him!  And classic good looks, with fair curly hair and a rugged yet caring personality.  And those freckles!  ‘Make some lucky girl a wonderful husband one day,’ he thought, as they made their way back to their room. 

Just as Patrick slid under the doona, Adam leaned over him and kissed him on the cheek.  “We have a rule at home,” he said.  “Everyone kisses everyone else good night.  That way, if you have the shits with someone it forces you to talk it out or forgive ’em or both!”  Patrick’s eyes sparkled; what a stunning attitude!  And so natural.  “Come here Ads,” he smiled, and planted a soft kiss on his beard shadow.  “Good night and sleep tight; we’re going to have a great year, I just know it” 

*****

They actually shared much of the syllabus; so it was easy and enjoyable finding their way around the university grounds together.  And it became enjoyable eating together, sometimes running down town in Adam’s car to buy pizza or Chinese, and eating in their room, working at their desks side by side. 

Doing things for each other became almost second nature; whoever was doing laundry always took all the discarded clothing and they shared the ironing.  There were no disputes; each were tidy enough in their own way, and there was certainly an effort to recognise each other’s fancies and foibles with a sense of humour that was both dumb and very campy.  Like Patrick’s craving for ice cream after midnight (‘you must be pregnant’) and Adam’s constant clearing of his throat, (‘if you do that again you’ll have to suck on this’); as Patrick would hand him a medicated cough drop.