Jeremy stood in the middle of the living room, his stomach tightening in fear until he thought he just might have to make a run for the bathroom.
"Ry, man, I'm really sorry. You were drunk, I was drunk, let's just let this one go," Jeremy practically begged as he turned away from the damning evidence on the computer screen. Even on the small screen he could see Ryan's head lolling to one side in a drunken stupor as Jeremy got down between the drunk man's legs.
"A mistake. You fucking ass. That's not a mistake, that's a sexual assault," Ryan snapped back, and Jeremy flinched at the anger in Ryan's green eyes. Looking at the computer monitor, he had to admit that undressing the man and playing with his cock until it was half hard might technically have been an assault. Maybe. Jeremy watched the screen and groaned in both fear and need as he watched himself slip off his own shirt and bend down to take Ryan's cock in his mouth.
God, what was wrong with him? He had the classic good looks: the strong chin, the dark brown eyes, the nearly black hair, the washboard abs and a back rippling with muscle. Most of the women on campus had thrown themselves at him... or at least many had. Others enjoyed pointing out how they were too sophisticated and worldly to fall for his puppy dog eyes and boyish smile. But instead of taking up any of those women, here he was caught on webcam assaulting his slightly nerdy roommate. Shit. He needed therapy, and if Ryan reported this to the university, therapy and expulsion and possibly prison were in his future.
"Ryan, man," Jeremy started again.
"Save it," the smaller man said in a tightly controlled voice. "You weren't even drunk either. You were up and working out this morning, and you *never* do that after drinking, so don't give me that bullshit." Ryan shook his head and for a brief moment, Jeremy saw the pain and fear and shame flash across those familiar features. Jeremy suddenly felt like an ass.
"I didn't mean—" he waved toward the computer where his unwanted blow job continued despite Ryan's utter lack of participation.
"What? You didn't think the camera was on? You didn't think you'd get caught? You didn't think I'd mind? Which 'you didn't' are you going to go for?" Ryan demanded, his face suddenly twisted in fury as he reached up and brushed his unruly brown curls back out of his face.
"I just—" Jeremy let his voice fade off since he really didn't have an answer. He didn't think about that damn web camera at all or he obviously would have checked it. Checked it, turned off the camera, flushed out the memory cache, and burned the damn mother board to boot. Obviously, he'd skipped thinking about the getting caught part, but then Ryan could drink himself into oblivion.
"What are you going to do?" Jeremy asked as he bit his lip. He looked up at his roommate, his friend... his victim. Ryan's fury evaporated into a look of confusion and fatigue. Ryan pushed long curls of hair back away from his face.
"I don't know," he confessed as he glanced over at the damning evidence.
"If you want me to move out, you got it. Just tell me what you want me to do, man, and I'll make this up to you," Jeremy practically begged as he stepped forward. He flinched back again when his movement made Ryan retreat around the far side of the couch, putting the overstuffed monstrosity between them as he held up a hand as though to push Jeremy away. A little part of him complained at the unfairness. If that were Cindy Darnel on her knees, Ryan would brag about it. Then again, Jeremy had learned a long time ago that life wasn't fair.
"Just... I can't deal with this right now. You are a grade-A asshole, and I'm really not thinking much beyond that right now," Ryan said as he stepped backwards towards the door, grabbing his coat off the equally overstuffed and ugly chair as he pulled on the doorknob.
"Ryan," Jeremy said softly, dying that his best friend would be so afraid of him. He had always loved the way Ryan would physically retaliate when he would give his friend a noogie or pulled his hair. Even though he was a full head shorter, Ryan gave as much as he took, a fact that Ryan attributed to growing up the youngest child in a family with four older sisters.
Ryan paused for a moment, holding the door open as he looked at Jeremy with sad eyes. Then he pulled the door shut and Jeremy was alone. Jeremy looked around the small living room, the monitor was silent, but it still showed Jeremy on his knees, Ryan's soft cock filling his mouth, and Jeremy's nose pressed all the way down to Ryan's curled pubic hair. Okay, the computer only showed Jeremy's back as Ryan stirred fitfully, but Jeremy's memory filled in the other details.
Jeremy walked over and clicked the mouse to stop the program. As the viewing window closed, the menu came up and Jeremy sank down on the computer chair as he looked at the index of files. Jeremy and Ryan setting off illegal fireworks, Ryan trying to cook some dinner only to fill the apartment with smoke, and Jeremy assaulting his best friend. He took the mouse and hovered over the filename. WTF. Ryan hadn't lost his sense of humor even when outraged.
Sitting there, Jeremy considered possible outcomes. He could delete the file, pull out the mother fucking mother board and smashed it, and Ryan might still press charges. If the cops could recover the data or if Ryan had backed it up, Jeremy would be even more screwed than ever. Even if destroying the motherboard did destroy the evidence, Ryan would be publicly humiliated, and Jeremy would be either ostracized or tormented by most of the student body. Even worse, he would never see his friend again. Leaning back in his chair, Jeremy considered the other option.
He left the file and showed Ryan that he would do whatever it took to earn his friend's trust back. Okay, if Ryan pressed charges, he was right back to the screwed option. If Ryan didn't, maybe they could still repair their friendship. Ryan clicked the program closed without deleting anything. Then he wandered to his bedroom to start sorting through his stuff. He suspected he was going to be moving out, one way or another.
Jeremy came through the apartment door and half expected to find cops waiting for him. He'd avoided the apartment most of the day, and now the late afternoon sun had warmed the brisk winter air. Instead he found an empty apartment, just like when he'd gone to bed last night and just like he'd found when he woke up this morning.
Jeremy tossed his gym bag on the floor as he dropped his coat and pulled his t-shirt over his head, using it to wipe his neck after a strenuous workout. He called out for Ryan as he headed for the tiny kitchen, but only silence answered.. They'd rented the apartment after sharing a dorm room for two years, so it seemed huge at the time, but now the apartment definitely didn't feel big enough for both of them.
The couch and chair filled nearly the whole living room, which is why they had no coffee table. The place where a dining room table should sit had that damning computer with the webcam sitting on top. A pillar and a bar-height counter separated the space from the kitchen which had almost no counter space. However, the place had two large bedrooms with two walk-in closets and two bathrooms, and that had sealed the deal. Some of Jeremy's happiest moments had been in this little apartment and he couldn't believe he had just royally fucked it all up. Hell, as often as his dad had accused him of being the fuck-up king, he shouldn't be surprised. Jeremy turned that thought and its attached emotions off before he lost control.
By the time he noticed the note sitting in the middle of the small counter dividing the kitchen from the dining room/office, he had gotten a roast beef sandwich and half a glass of milk down. Really he wanted a beer, but he didn't really want to smell of alcohol if he was going to be talking to cops. He reached out and slid the paper closer to him so he could read Ryan's cramped handwriting.
