It was a hot day. I was drenched with sweat as I made my way back to the dorm after completing my daily run. Over the past few months, I had learned that routine was important for my well-being; on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I ran on the trail through the campus arboretum from 11 a.m. to noon.
I let myself into the dorm using my keycard, then bounded up the stairs to my room on the third floor. I anticipated that my roommates would still be rubbing the sleep from their eyes. They tended to hibernate until at least noon on Fridays, even if it meant missing breakfast and morning classes.
I lived in what was referred to as a "quad suite" by the university. There was a small common space that bifurcated into two quaint bedrooms on either side. My roommates and I were pretty different, but we had one main thing in common: we all liked to screw around with one another.
We had only known each other for eight months. I was still surprised that we had become such good friends so quickly. That having been said, four pranksters living in close quarters was a recipe for trouble. Things had gotten pretty inappropriate more than a few times; fortunately, it seemed like all of us could take it as well as we could dish it out.
Franklin, who shared a room with me, had taken a picture of himself tea-bagging our suitemate, Alexei, when he'd been passed out. He'd made sure to show the photo to most everyone living in the dorm. Alexei had retaliated by pissing in Franklin's gym bag before he'd gone over to the athletic center to lift weights one morning.
Me and Alexei's roommate, Diego, had eventually gotten dragged into the rivalry as well. 'Dragged' isn't really fair. Like I said, all four of us were pretty immature. The two of them had snuck into our room one night and slathered us with shaving cream. Franklin and I had had to spend most of the day washing our bedding and scrubbing dried white goop from our bedframes.
None of us ever held a grudge though. We would get drunk in the evenings and laugh about whatever random joke one of us had most recently played on the other.
The hijinks had escalated to a new level earlier that week. We had all been tossing back tequila at a frat party. Alexei had noticed a pull-up bar in one of the door frames leading to a hallway. He bet Franklin that he could beat him in a contest.
Franklin and Alexei were both incredibly competitive. Franklin had been the star pitcher on his high school baseball team. He was used to being admired by throngs of adoring fans. Alexei competed on the college gymnastics team. He was a compact powerhouse of muscle. He seemed embittered by the fact that nobody cared about his current accomplishments in gymnastics as much as Franklin's stories about his high school glory days.
A small group of people had started to form a circle around the doorway with the pull-up bar as Alexei had hyped up the competition. Franklin had started things off. He turned in a circle in front of the onlookers while kissing his biceps, then got started. I had somehow become stranded on the other side of the door so that I was watching him from behind. To be honest, my memory is hazy since I ended up passing out later that night.
I do remember cheering along with that crowd and counting each pull-up Franklin completed. I always sided with my roommate; it was team Franklin and Logan versus team Alexei and Diego.
Alexei's face had turned sour as Franklin had hit the twenty pull-up mark. He'd shrugged his shoulders and commented that twenty pull-ups would be nothing for him. He'd said that Franklin wouldn't be able to complete a single rotation on the pommel horse. I'd rolled my eyes, feeling annoyed at the size of his grandiose ego.
Franklin had been dripping with sweat. It'd been unseasonably hot for early May; the temperature had hit ninety degrees midday. He'd huffed as he'd pulled himself up to complete a thirtieth pull-up before letting go of the bar. He'd looked tired but proud as he'd walked over and slapped Alexei across the back.
Alexei had stepped towards to doorway, nodding at me on the other side of the frame. He'd turned to face the small crowd assembled before him. Compared to Franklin's six-foot-one stature, Alexei looked pint-sized at five-foot-five. If it weren't for his oversized muscles, I was certain that he would have never been able to get laid.
"It's too hot in here," Alexei had said as he'd pulled off his tank top and tossed it in Franklin's face.
A few of the girls in the crowd had catcalled him, making comments about his defined abs and massive pecs. I couldn't see his face, but I was certain he'd been smiling. I'd realized that he almost looked like he was dressed for the gym in his red nylon shorts and well-worn sneakers. He had never been one to dress up when we'd gone to a frat party. It wasn't my thing either, but at least I usually tossed on some jeans and a polo shirt.
Alexei had jumped up to the bar and immediately started doing pull-ups at twice the speed that Franklin had. Diego had been the first person to cheer him on, although it hadn't taken long for the crowd to start applauding as well.
I'd glanced over at Franklin. He'd been looking irked as Alexei had hit the twenty pull-up mark with relative ease. He'd mouthed the words,
Such as fucking show-off
, to me. I'd chuckled since it was true that Alexei was quite full of himself.
Suddenly, a devious thought had crossed my mind. I don't think I would have never acted on it if I had been sober.
Alexei had begun to slow down as he'd approached the benchmark of thirty pull-ups. He'd started to pretend to struggle - mocking Franklin's performance. I'd found it distasteful; it was one thing to be a sore loser, but he had found a way to be a sore winner.
He'd pulled himself up as the crowd had loudly cheered, "Thirty!" He'd frozen in position, with his head above the bar, looking out at the fawning coeds. Franklin had been pretending not to care, though not very well.
"How many more of these do you think I can do?" Alexei had asked. "I think I have at least..."
I'd lunged forward swiftly, looping my thumbs into the waistband of Alexei's red nylon shorts. It had felt as if I was watching myself, rather than being in control of my actions. I'd yanked his shorts and boxers down in the blink of an eye.
I hadn't stopped there either. I hadn't meant to go further, but the loose boxers and shorts had easily slipped over his sneakers. I'd realized that they were balled up in my hands. Alexei had continued to hang there in a daze. I could see the light reflecting off his almost-alabaster ass. It had a bit of a peach tint. That, I remember.
"Oh my god!" a girl had called out.
Everyone had burst out laughing. Alexei had dropped from the bar, almost stumbling as he'd hit the ground. He'd quickly cupped his hands over his crotch while hunching over. He'd spun around to find me standing behind him with his clothes in my hands.
"He's so small!" another girl had cackled.
"He's got a baby-dick!" her friend had piled on.
I'd realized then that I had only seen Alexei's dick once before: when I had accidentally walked in on him while he'd been changing. I hadn't exactly stopped to gawk, so I hadn't gotten a good look. Besides that, his dick had been soft. I'd really had no way of knowing what was going on down there.
Alexei hadn't said anything. I could feel him pleading with his eyes though as people in the crowd had continued to mocked him. I'd felt a little bad for him, but I'd also liked seeing him being knocked down a peg after what he had done to Franklin.
