Chapter 9

NINE

RORY

Two weeks have gone by since our almost kiss, and nothing more has happened. We cuddle almost every night on the sofa while we watch something, and Parker presses kisses to my hair and holds my hand each and every time. It's wonderful, but frustrating too, because we haven't talked once about what we're doing or what any of it means, and I'm starting to go crazy. But I can't bring myself to ask him either, because if he tells me it's nothing, I'll be devastated.

We're heading out soon for a Halloween party at one of the frat houses near campus, and I need to get my costume on.

I'm slipping into the black silk panties I decided to wear with my costume when I hear a knock on the door. I slide my robe on quickly before saying, "Come in."

The door opens and Parker is standing there with a basket full of laundry that I realize is mine. He walks in and sets it on the bed. "I hope it's okay I got your stuff out. I needed to start my stuff in the dryer before we left."

"Yeah, of course," I say, and then my face heats when his gaze catches on the drying rack at the foot of my bed with my costume draped over it, along with several pairs of lace and silk panties.

Without seeming to realize what he's doing, he steps closer and picks up the lacy orange pair. Fuck, I'm simultaneously aroused and terrified at the sight of Parker holding my panties.

I started wearing panties shortly after Zach and I got together. I wanted to find a way to spice things up in the bedroom, and discovered that they made me feel sexy and pretty, but when he made fun of me for them, I tucked them away and hadn't touched them since, until about a week ago when I decided I wanted to start wearing them again, for me. Because I liked them, the way they looked on me, the confidence I felt when I slipped them on, my cock and balls nestled against the silky, lacy material, and I didn't give a fuck what Zach thought, or at least I was trying not to. But if Parker responds to them the same way Zach did…I swallow.

He clears his throat. "Are, are these yours?" he asks, his voice deeper than normal as he turns to face me, and I almost gasp at the unmistakable heat in his gaze when his eyes meet mine. I nod. "Damn, freckles, that's hot." He stares at me for a moment and I have a feeling he's trying to picture the panties on me, which makes me flush and squirm.

I step closer and take the panties from his hands gently. "I'll just take these," I say, and his cheeks turn bright red.

"Oh, right, yeah, of course. Sorry. I'll uh, leave, I guess. You do, whatever you were doing."

"I'll be out in a few minutes," I tell him. He nods, seemingly at a loss for words, and scurries off.

I bite my lip and shut the door behind me, resting my head against it, letting out a breath.

Parker said my panties were hot. And the way he looked at me, at them, fuck. I couldn't help noticing the slight bulge in his jeans when he left, and I reach inside my robe to squeeze my own cock that's half hard. Shit, I don't have time to jerk off. I have to get ready. I groan and will my cock to settle, before grabbing my clothes for the party and slipping them on. The black mini skirt with fake fur around the bottom and a tail attached to the back goes first. Next is a cropped long sleeved black shirt that has the same fake fur around the wrists. I sit on my bed to slide the black thigh high tights on, then secure the orange collar around my neck before slipping the cat ear headband on. I look at myself in the floor length mirror attached to my bedroom wall and grin. Damn, I look good. I just need the cat make up and my shoes, and I'm good to go. I slide the black heels on and then traipse down the hall to the bathroom.

I apply eyeliner around my eyes and the dark circle to my nose. I'm in the process of applying the cat whiskers when I hear, "Holy fuck," and turn to see Parker standing there, open mouthed, staring at me. And holy fucking shit, I stare right back. I don't know when I've seen a sexier cowboy. He's got chaps on over his jeans, a leather vest, no shirt, so his gorgeous chest is on full display, and a bandana tied around his neck. The only thing he's missing is the hat.

"You look amazing," I say, making every effort possible not to reach out and touch his bare abdomen. Jesus, his abs have abs.

"Shit, freckles, I don't hold a candle to you," he says, and I see his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Is he trying not to touch me, too?

"You like it?" I say, stepping back from the sink and gesturing to my outfit. He swallows and nods.

"God, you're pretty." His voice is a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine as he looks at me. My cock jerks in my panties and I have to hold back a squeak.

"You, too," I reply and then wince at my choice of words. Parker isn't pretty. He's fucking sex on legs. He doesn't seem to mind the compliment though, and grins at me.

"I'll be ready in a second," I say, holding up my eyeliner pencil, and he nods, moving away from the bathroom.

I emerge a few minutes later and see Parker now in his cowboy hat and boots, waiting by the door. He's also got a jacket on over his vest and is holding mine in his hands.

He grins at me as I walk towards him in my heels, then opens the jacket and holds it out for me to slip into. Oh my god. Zach never did stuff like this for me. And Parker's still looking at me like he wants to devour me.

I pop my earplugs into my ears and he grins wider. "I'll probably only last an hour or so," I tell him. "But you don't have to come back with me."

He nods and offers me his arm. I'm blushing like crazy when we head out the door.

PARKER

Hot damn, my roomie is the sexiest fucking kitty cat I've ever seen. The skirt, and the fucking tights, and that crop top showing off his slender tummy. Fuck, I want to nibble on every inch of him. I've never seen him in a skirt before, but he looks scrumptious. And I still can't get over the sexy as fuck panties I saw in his room earlier. I can't believe I actually picked them up, but my brain went out the window as soon as I thought of Rory's cute little bottom in them, and I acted without thinking. Fortunately he didn't seem to mind too much.

This little dude keeps surprising me in the best ways, and I feel proud to be with him tonight as we walk through the front door of the frat house where the Halloween party is being held. There's two different stories with a winding staircase leading up to the second floor. The ground floor is packed with sweaty bodies and loud upbeat music resounds throughout the house as people talk, make out, and grind up against each other on the makeshift dance floor, aka, the living room. Guests have taken up seats on the furniture that has been pushed to the side to make room. It smells like alcohol, sweat, and weed.

I grip Rory's hand as we make our way through the crowd and to the kitchen to get a drink. I don't plan on getting drunk, but I do want a little something.

We each grab a cider and move back through the throng of sweaty bodies, all wearing different costumes, as we make our way back to the living area. There's witches, nurses, angels, athletes, rock stars, a couple more cowboys, and a few animals, though no one comes close to looking as amazing as Rory.

I spot my friend Preston talking to Jackson and motion in their direction. Jackson is dressed in nothing but a bright green speedo and iridescent fairy wings, his pale skin on display. He's got glitter in his hair and around his eyes and he looks amazing. His tall, slender frame is perfect for the outfit. And it seems that Preston is quite taken with him, if the way he's looking at the other man is anything to go by.

"Do they know each other?" I ask Rory over the roar of the music.

"Not that I know of," Rory says, seeming just as surprised as me that they're talking. "I didn't know Preston was gay."

"He isn't," I say. "Not that I know, anyway." But hey, sometimes you don't even know yourself until you meet the right person. "Maybe it's not like that. Maybe they're just talking." We watch as Jackson laughs at something Preston whispered in his ear, and then Jackson is taking Preston's hand and pulling him through the crowd towards the stairs.

We exchange looks but don't get a chance to say anything before we hear, "Rory, fancy seeing you here. I thought you would be too ashamed to show your face in public from now on."

We turn and I know who I'm looking at without being told. Douchenozzle Zach and whatever flavor of the month he has on his arm.

Rory's eyes narrow. "Why would l be ashamed when I'm not the one who fucking cheated?"

Zach glares and steps closer. "Yeah, well, you'd cheat too if your partner was only putting out once a week and had a dick the size of a baby carrot. You're lucky I wasn't cheating sooner with what a lousy lay you were, you selfish little prick."

Rory's cheeks turn bright red and then he squeaks when Zach reaches out and grabs his crotch through his skirt. "Hey, back off," I snarl, shoving him back. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself."

Zach sneers at me. "This is cute," he says, glancing back at Rory and then me again. "You got yourself a guard dog."

"He's my roommate," Rory manages, but I can tell he's barely holding it together. "And he's right. Don't touch me."

Zach appraises him. "Wearing a fucking skirt, too? God, Rory, you're such a fucking pussy. Is that the only way you could get a guy? Trade your dick in for a cunt? You fucking him, too? Does he know what a fucking whore you sound like when you get plowed? How fucking embarrasing it is?"

Tears are filling Rory's eyes now and I've had enough. I take his hand and pull him with me down the hall as Zach laughs. I find the bathroom and sigh in relief when it's empty, pulling Rory inside and shutting the door behind me. I wet a washcloth and remove his glasses, setting them aside, before I dab at his tears. His eyeliner is running down his cheeks turning his tears black and my heart breaks for him. I want to go out there and squirt lemon juice in Zach's eyes for hurting Rory.

"Stop," he says, sniffling and batting my hand away. "You don't need to do that."

I frown. "But I want to. He didn't have any right to say those things."

"Maybe he does," Rory says. "Maybe he's right. After all, I've never been with anyone else. I can't even get a second opinion."

"He's an arrogant, stuck up, asshole who's trying to make you feel like shit about yourself, because if he can make you feel small and like you don't deserve better maybe you'll go crawling back to him, or maybe you'll just walk around miserable never trying to find someone better because you don't believe you deserve it. He's wrong, freckles. You're amazing and you deserve everything you want." I grip his chin and continue to dab at his tears. He blinks at me and his chest heaves slightly.

"You look incredible. You're the prettiest one out there. He's just jealous he doesn't have control of you any more." His eyes flick to my lips and I'm so tempted to close the space between us and kiss him like I've wanted to for weeks now, but I can't. Not when he's this upset. I haven't made a move so far because I don't want him to think I'm just using him for sex. He deserves better than that, and he's been through a lot. But god, it's been hard.

Instead I press a kiss to his curls and then turn his face towards the mirror. "Good as new," I say, and he gives me a soft smile.

"Thank you. I'm really, really embarrassed about all the shit he said. I'm so sorry, Parker."

I slip his glasses back on and shake my head. "No one in this room needs to be apologizing. Do you want to go?"

He shakes his head. "No. Then he wins. I can't let him ruin every public gathering for me. Let's get another drink."

We make our way out of the bathroom and fortunately don't spot Zach and his date anywhere as we move through the crowd back towards the kitchen. Rory grabs another cider but I stick to soda. I have a feeling I should keep an eye on him. He seems a little bit better, but I know Zach's words had an impact on him and I wouldn't be surprised if he drank more than normal tonight because of it.

I take out my phone and text Jackson and Lucy to make sure they know we're here and that Rory is upset. I don't give them details, just tell them that we ran into Zach.

I get a reply from Lucy right away. She says she's outside, and we make our way in that direction after grabbing our jackets. There's a fire pit set up in the backyard and even more people out here, drinking, talking, and some people are roasting marshmallows.

"Hey, Rory," Lucy says when we reach the firepit. I turn, startled. I almost don't recognize her since she's dressed up as Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy , green skin and everything. She looks amazing, though, her normally curly hair straight and dyed red.

"Hey," he says. "You look great."

She smiles. "You, too." She looks at me. "And you look very yummy."

I flush. "Thanks."

We talk for a bit and I mention seeing Jackson and Preston together, which sparks her interest. Apparently none of us knows what's going on between those two.

"Time for another drink," Rory says about fifteen minutes later. He's shivering now, too, even with his jacket on.

That's the same moment another girl slides up next to Lucy, dressed as Merida from Brave , and starts flirting with her, so I take Rory inside and get him another drink.

"Last one," I tell him. "You're getting tipsy already." I had no idea he was such a lightweight, but I don't think he actually drinks that often, and he's tiny.

He takes it, his words already slurring slightly when he says, "I'm completely fine. I am better than fine. I am soooo fine."

I'm regretting letting him have the last bottle about ten minutes later when he's clearly not fine. "I think we should head home," I tell him as I take the drink from his hand and set it on the counter. I put my arm around his back and drape his arm over my shoulder, hunching as I try to support him. We take a few steps before he trips over something, probably his own feet. He wobbles on his heels and his knees buckle, but I manage to grab him before he falls, and he giggles.

"You are so strong," he says, his face turned towards me, the stench of alcohol on his breath. "So strong and so fucking hot." He pokes my bicep. "I mean, wow, just look at these muscles."

I move us through the crowd as he continues to jab me in the arm. "Okay," I say, once we reach the front porch. "Let's get you in the car." I'm honestly not sure he can make it down the stairs so I scoop him into my arms and carry him instead, prompting a gasp and then another giggle as he kicks his feet in the air.

"See," he says, "I told you you were strong. And hot. Soooo hot." He starts to stroke my bare chest and I shiver. "And sweet." His eyes meet mine and they fill with tears. "God, you're so damn sweet." He buries his face in my chest as he sobs. "You closed the chip bag in your room so I wouldn't hear it."

"Hey, it's okay, little dude," I try to soothe him. "You're gonna be okay." I set him down so I can open the car door and he wobbles again before his face pales and then he's turning his head and vomiting near the rear passenger side door. "Oh, boy. Okay. You feel better now?" I ask as he wipes his chin and then reaches for my belt.

"Miss your cock," he slurs as I ease him into the front seat and try to buckle him. "It was so big and beautiful, not like my teeny weeny one." He puts emphasis on the words and holds his thumb and forefinger up about an inch apart. Then his head lolls to the side. "You know Zach was right about that. I have a baby carrot cock. I can't believe you ever wanted me." He sniffles again and more tears slide down his cheeks. "You did, you know? That first night? You gave me that blow job, and I don't know why because my cock is so tiny it's not much good for anything. And then I ran away, and you haven't wanted me since then. I don't blame you. I'm not very good in bed."

I honestly don't have a clue what to say to all of his jibber jabber, but I'll admit some of it makes me sad. I hate to hear him talk about himself like that, even if he is drunk. That Zach buttface really did a number on him and his self esteem, and he's so sweet, and cute, and smart, and talented, it just boils my biscuits that anyone could be so mean to him or make him feel badly about himself. I get him buckled and close the door before making my way around to the driver's seat.

It's a short drive and we're home in less than ten minutes. I park the car and hurry around to help him out. "Carry me," he says and throws his arms around my neck.

"Sure, little dude." I scoop him in my arms again and he kicks his feet and lets out a "weee!!!"

"Can you open the door?" I ask him when we get to the main entrance. He reaches out and pulls on it, then cheers again as I make my way up the stairs with him in my arms. He's tiny, but hauling him up three flights of stairs while he seems to be doing his best to catapult himself out of my arms is not easy.

I get us inside, and as soon as I set him on his feet he's running down the hall. I hear him vomiting again seconds later. Oh boy. This could be a long night, and I don't want to leave him alone.

I find him kneeling on the bathroom floor with his cheek resting against the toilet seat and I cringe. He managed to get most everything in the toilet, unfortunately that includes his kitty kat ears. Fuck, I'm the best roommate ever. I wipe off his chin and then pick him up again and carry him to my bed. It's bigger than his, and like I said, I don't want to leave him alone. I grab some rubber gloves and slide them on before fishing the kitty ears out of the toilet and flushing everything else down. Then I try to clean and disinfect the ears as best I can before leaving them on a towel in the kitchen to dry.

After that I grab a glass of water and take it to the bedroom along with a breath mint. His eyes are lidded and he groans as I push him up on the bed. "You need to drink," I tell him, and hold the glass to his mouth. He manages to get a few sips in and then lets out a huge burp.

"Oh, jeeze, that was bad," he says, waving his hand in front of his face. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I tell him. "Here, suck on this." He takes the breath mint and pops it in his mouth.

"Woah, that's good," he says, his eyes widening, like I just gave him weed or something.

"Keep sucking," I say. "Don't swallow it whole." I don't mind letting him share my bed, but if he's going to be this close to me I'd like to try and avoid the smell of vomit and cider. I hope that doesn't make me a terrible person.

He gives me a grin and a thumbs up sign as he sucks and I move down the bed to slip his shoes and tights off. He starts to giggle again and I look at him. "What is it?"

He giggles more. "You're undressing me."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I guess I am, but don't get excited. I'm stopping there." I move up to the head of the bed and slide his glasses off, setting them on the nightstand next to him, then help him lie down again.

He reaches out and grips my arm. "Don't wanna be alone," he murmurs, those big blue eyes gazing up at me.

"I'm not gonna leave you, short stack," I promise. "I do need to get you one of your nose things, though. Where are they?"

"Nightstand," he murmurs, and I leave the room, returning with the nasal strip and handing it to him. He fumbles with it for a bit before pouting and handing it back to me. I chuckle a little, then tear it open. It's really similar to a bandaid wrapper, and I pull off the backing, before reaching over and placing it across his nose.

"Good?" I ask, and he nods.

I start to undress myself and he stares at me. I really don't mind, so I don't bother leaving the room. I strip out of my costume until I'm down to my boxer briefs and then slide into pajama pants before climbing into bed next to him. He immediately rolls over to face me and scoots closer.

"You take such good care of me," he says, resting his head on my chest and stroking his fingers over my abdomen.

"Boop," he says, when he gets to my belly button and pokes it. Jesus, he's a strange drunk.

He lifts his head and stares at me. "I want you to kiss me," he says. "I want you to fucking kiss me. And I want you to fuck me." He frowns and keeps tracing my abdomen with his finger. "You probably don't want that, though. I'm lousy in bed. That's what Zach says. You heard him, didn't you? You were there when he said what a lousy lay I am. How I moan like a whore. He said it was embarrassing." His eyebrows furrow. "He did nothing but insult me and then wondered why I wanted sex less and less. And I spent so long trying to be better for him. Trying to be what he wanted me to be. And he still cheated."

He rests his head on my chest and I hear his sniffles as his body shakes slightly against me. "‘It's a good thing you have a hole because your dick isn't good for much, is it?' That's what he said. I was lucky he wanted me for as long as he did. No one wants me."

I have tears filling my eyes as I squeeze him against me. That jerk face said all those horrible things to my sweet Rory and he has spent the last two months trying to believe something different. To believe he's worthy and desirable. He has no idea how desirable he is, because Zach fucking shattered his self esteem, just to make himself feel better, to keep Rory under control, to make him feel like no one else would want him. But it's just not true.

I fucking want him.

"Shh," I soothe, stroking my fingers through his hair. "Sleep, little dude."

He's snoring softly a moment later.