Date: Wed, 25 Feb 2004 19:27:27 -0800 (PST) From: Balthazaro <balthazaro@yahoo.com> Subject: Welcome to the Dorms 2 This work is copyrighted by its author. It may not be used without his express permission. Private individuals are given permission to have one (1) electronic and/or one (1) printed copy of this story. Nifty is given permission to archive this work. If stories about homosexual acts offend you, please don't read it... I hate to cause conniptions. *grin* If you like it (or don't like it) please let me know at balthazaro@yahoo.com. --------------- After the morning shower fiasco, I wasn't in the mood to go anywhere with Scott, but in the interests of being nice I decided it was something I ought to do. Breakfast took forever -- the food was mediocre at best, like all school food, and Scott kept up a nonstop stream of commentary on every aspect of life at W&M throughout the meal. By the time I made it back to my room, my head was spinning again. Hopefully someone else would come in soon so he'd have other people to talk to... I wasn't sure how many more of his nonstop talkathons I could endure. Taking my map of the campus, I muttered some excuses about wanting to figure out where everything was and fled the dorm for the peace and quiet of the great outdoors. One thing I have to give William & Mary... the campus was beautiful. I wandered around for hours, locating the buildings where my classes were, the library, an ATM, all the things I would need to know to live here. Indiana was pretty green in parts, but Gary was a city -- mostly built up, and the land there was flat as a board. Here, the rolling hills and trees complemented by the general Colonial theme made everything look like a postcard. Williamsburg itself was tiny; I wondered what there was to do for fun in town. After grabbing some food for a very late lunch at a sandwich shop, I headed back to the dorm. All the dorms in the area, including mine, were bustling with activity. I had definitely gotten my morning wish fulfilled; the world had showed up while I was out wandering the campus. Several of the doors on my hall were wide open, with people hauling stuff up the narrow stairs. Someone actually brought a couch -- I watched them fighting it up the steps and shook my head. If all the rooms were as small as mine, I couldn't imagine where they were going to put it. Scott was in heaven, talking to five people at once and carrying on three separate conversations simultaneously. When I got to my room, a Chinese fire drill had descended on it. Three young guys and an older man were running in circles, carrying boxes, moving stuff, and bumping into each other. A woman with a huge mane of bleached blonde hair was standing in the middle of the room giving instructions to everyone all at once. I'm sure some of my amazement must have shown on my face, because the woman saw me standing in the doorway and said what sounded like "OhmygodyoumustbeSteveheyVinnieyaroomiesherenicetomeetyaVINNIE!" She sounded like an extra from the Sopranos. Laughing a little at my glazed expression, one of the young guys came over and said "Hey... Vincent Giordano, nice to meet you." He smiled at me and extended his hand. Vincent was shorter than I was, and very muscular and compact. He was very clearly Italian; despite his olive complexion and dark hair, his eyes were a clear sky blue. Even standing there in dirty jeans and a t-shirt, he looked like a model. Suddenly I felt incredibly uncomfortable and out of place. I shook the proffered hand, and said "Steve Sorenssen, a pleasure to meet you too. Guess we're going to be rooming together." "Yeah, this is my brother Peter," the younger boy waved from where he was setting up a computer in the corner, "my other brother Mark," another wave, this one from the twenty-something guy who had just put down a box of clothes in the middle of the floor, "my dad," the older guy stopped moving stuff around for a second and shook my hand, "and my mom, who I think you met already. Sorry about my mom, she gets a little excited." Vincent's mother slapped him lightly in the back of the head without even looking around, making him duck and wince. "Hi, Steve, I'm Stella Giordano, nice to meet you, like I said. You look like a nice boy. I hope my kid doesn't drive you nuts like he does me! Peter! What are you doing over there, don't..." and she was off on another tirade which sounded all too familiar, New York accent notwithstanding. Vincent grinned at me again and shrugged, as if to say `what can I do?' I grinned back, suddenly on familiar ground again. A couple of hours later, once the storm of Giordanos had blown back out the door, we were both exhausted. Glancing over at my new roomie, who was sitting on his bed staring off into space, I said "So... do you prefer Vinnie, or Vincent?" He laughed. "I don't care, man, I answer to anything. Vinnie, Vincent, `V' - I've spent my whole life sharing a room with first Mark and then Pete, so anything from `hey you' to `dickhead' is pretty much standard. You been here long?" "No, I just got here yesterday... when you guys showed up I was out walking around the campus trying to figure out where stuff is." "Cool! I'm glad someone here knows where stuff is... maybe you can show me around later, if that's cool with you. I'll be totally lost trying to find my classes otherwise." I couldn't help but notice how Vincent's blue eyes gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight coming through the window. Just as I was about to answer, Scott showed up at the door. It was funny watching someone else get the treatment that I had; Vincent's face showed the same shock that mine must have when first confronted with Scott's conversational Gatling gun. More people on our hall showed up steadily throughout the day, and there was a bunch of hall-wide "getting to know you" stuff in the evening. It was kind of fun, and kind of cheesy, like that stuff always is... it reminded me a lot of Scouting events. As usual, everyone had to volunteer some personal detail that `people don't generally know', as though we were going to spill our life secrets to a group of people we had just met. Some Greek kid also named Steve (short for Stavros, not Steven like me) volunteered that he had the longest tongue in the room, which led to all sorts of comments; he stuck it out and he was right, it was really long. I said that I was interested in being a Computer Science major, and that I was in Boy Scouts until last year. Vincent talked about volunteering with his dad's Knights of Columbus soup kitchen in Crown Heights, which was apparently a subsection of Brooklyn. As was to be expected, Scott talked five words to everyone else's one -- when his turn came around, he said that he was a Communications major, and one of the other guys yelled out "We've noticed!" That got a good laugh all around. When we finally got back to the room, it was almost ten and I was exhausted. Vincent looked pretty well done in too. He logged into Yahoo and checked his mail, then stretched and said "Well, guess I better grab a shower before bed; I feel gross. You can use the computer if you want." "Sweet! Thanks, man. My parents ordered me a laptop, but it's not here yet." I logged into AOL through the web, and checked my email. When I glanced up a minute later, Vincent was stripped down to his boxers and rummaging through his stuff. He had more hair on his chest than I did, but it fanned across his pecs and made a little trail down onto his stomach. I envied his olive complexion - I was pale, like all Swedes, so even though I had less body hair than him, my dark hair showed up more and looked weird, not like his. His clearly defined 6-pack showed that he obviously spent time in the gym... he was in great shape. Throwing a towel over his shoulder he said "Don't lock me out, man" and with a smile he headed out the door. I didn't want to spend too long on his PC, so I logged out and started getting ready for bed. Ten minutes later he was back, wrapped in a towel, carrying his shampoo bottle and boxers. Before I could say anything, he whipped the towel from around his waist. As I watched with my mouth hanging open, he stood in the middle of the room stark naked for a second drying his hair, completely unselfconscious as his long, uncircumcised dick swung back and forth. Running his hands through his hair to smooth it down, he crawled in the bed. My speechlessness must have showed, because he looked over and said "Oh... sorry, man; did I shock ya?" "No, no, that's OK..." I was stuttering, and I could feel myself blushing. "Damn, I'm sorry, dude. Like I said, I'm just used to sharing a room with my brothers. It didn't even occur to me that you might not be used to... well, sorry. I'll try to be more modest from now on." Now he was clearly embarrassed too. "NO, it's OK, really; I don't care. I mean, I'm used to locker rooms and stuff, I'm just an only child so I'm used to some privacy. Don't sweat it, really, it's fine. We're going to be living together for a year, so we might as well get used to seeing each other in whatever, right?" I felt very odd... sort of excited, sort of embarrassed; my mouth was dry, I was so nervous. For the life of me I couldn't figure out why. I had seen plenty of other guys naked in high school and in Scouts, and it hadn't affected me like this. I hoped my confusion didn't show on my face. "Well, I just don't want to make you uncomfortable, man," he replied. "I guess Mark got me used to guys wandering around naked and sleeping bare; he hates clothes. I think he'd be a fuckin' nudist if he could get away with it. Once he moved out, Pete moved in with me so I guess I just never thought about it -- it was just what guys did, right?" Vincent grinned over at me. I guess he was relieved that I was being a sport about it. "Yeah, if I'd had brothers I'd be used to it too I guess" I agreed, though I couldn't imagine anyone in my straitlaced family running around naked. Thinking about it made me laugh; if it wasn't for the internet, I don't think I'd even know sex existed. "If you want to run around naked, that's cool with me... uh, I mean..." Vincent burst out laughing. "I'm not gonna be sitting around with no clothes on all day, that's for sure -- I'm not Mark! I just don't see what the big deal is." Since we were having a conversation, Vincent sat up in his bed. His sheet bunched up and hid his crotch, but it was still obvious that he wasn't wearing anything. "We're gonna be staying in this room together for a long time; I'm gonna see you naked, you're gonna see me naked, so what? If one of us gets a girlfriend that starts spending time over here, then we can change the rules, but for now, who cares? You cool with that?" Absentmindedly, he scratched at the short dark hair covering his left nipple. "Sure, makes perfect sense to me." What else could I say? I still felt uncomfortable, but what he was saying was completely logical. I couldn't even put into words what bothered me about it. Seeing other guys naked had never bothered me or even made much of an impression one way or another; seeing Vincent naked made me feel uncomfortable, though, sort of tight and nervous in the pit of my stomach. Despite this weird sensation, I prided myself on acting according to logic, not emotion, so I was sort of caught by my own hook at this point. "Cool." With a sigh, he flopped back into his bed, making the springs squeak. He snickered, then bounced a little bit, making the springs squeak again. "Hm, this could get interesting if I bring someone home, huh?" I laughed, though this was something else I hadn't thought of, how two guys could share a room when one (or both) of them were dating. I was beginning to realize just how sheltered I really was, and it wasn't a very comfortable feeling. He bounced more and more wildly, springs squeaking away madly, and the harder he flopped around the more I laughed -- it was like something a little kid would do. Finally he stopped, out of breath, and I shook my head. "You're a crazy man." I told him, noticing how the sheet molded itself to his body. I could see the bump in the sheet where his cock was. I found myself wondering if he jerked off too. Suddenly I was uncomfortable again, so I said "You ready to turn the lights out?" "Yeah, if you are -- I can sleep through just about anything. If the building catches on fire, throw me out the window." He giggled softly. "Night, man." "Good night." When I turned the light off, I realized that the room was still fairly well lit by the lights in the courtyard area outside our window. Vincent's bed was better lit than mine, but the head of his bed was in shadow since it was tucked in the corner next to the window. I undressed in the semi-darkness, and crawled into bed in my boxers, still feeling vaguely troubled. Hopefully tomorrow would be more normal than the first two days at college had been.