Lady Fortune's Smile

From deep in the bowels of Hell, the Prince of Darkness releases his hordes of foul, evil and dysfunctional minions bred for the sole purpose of showing up to roommate interviews. And I, Theodore, the legal head of household, must sit here through each horrifying, grueling one on one session with these abominations and remain cordial, collected and most of all, patient. They range from militant bull dykes to future residents of Death Row, closet Pyromaniacs, far-too-energetic athlete types, big, drunk bullies and I even had a bookworm shut-in who was possibly a mild agoraphobic. His fat, frightening mother did most of the talking. In all honesty, I felt bad for him, and I almost said yes, but then the image of his mother and I being on a first name basis made me reconsider my decision.

After he and the giant land mass grace me with their absence, I glance at the clock. Shit, almost 6:30, and the shut-in was the closest I came to nodding my head all day. It was almost time for me to shut the doors and choose the lesser of a thousand evils, but I hoped that maybe I would get lucky and some perfect match would walk through the door at any moment. However, Lady Fortune seems to be on the rag as of late and something told me my prayers were far from being answered.

Great, another knock at my door. What wretched, withered creature of the Abyss shall it be this time? Perhaps a frat guy who gets his kicks from torturing small furry animals? A mad scientist who will rebuild all my household appliances into evil, sentient carnivores? With a deep, exasperated sigh, I open the door and there stands a perfectly normal looking guy with a charming smile on.

"Hi, I'm Travis, am I too late for the open house?" He slides a tuft of his long, dark hair behind an ear and gives me a pleading look with a pair of the purest, most electric blue eyes I've ever seen. I can't help but smile in return and motion for him to come in.

"Not at all, dude. Make yourself at home."

His smile lengthens as he walks by me, nodding his head in thanks. "This is a really nice place. You must take good care of it." I follow him into the living room and take my seat across from him like I did with every applicant before him.

"Yeah, I'm a bit of a neat freak. I don't expect my roommate to be, but I don't want a slob either."

"Oh, right, of course." He glances down with a sigh. "Listen, I'm sorry for being late, I work in theater, and it's hard for me to get out of work on time, you know?" Ugh. //Theatre??\\ Is that slang for being a male stripper or something? I knew this guy was too good to be true. He must've seen the look on my face because he suddenly bursts out laughing. "Omigawd, I can just imagine what you may be thinking. And you're half right. I'm not exactly reciting Shakespeare, but I don't take my clothes off either, so don't worry about it."

I suddenly feel shameful at having been so judgmental. I'm not usually so closed-minded…I was probably letting today's misadventures get to me. I rake my fingers through my short, light brown hair and smirk uncomfortably. "Shit, man, I'm sorry. What exactly do you do?"

Travis tilts his head and gives me the most genuine, forgiving smile he could muster. "Don't be. I dance in a sort of Cabaret. It's reminiscent of the 1920's…really classy stuff." I was suddenly drawn in, wanting to hear more about this man. It looks like Lady Luck had a smile for me up her sleeve after all.

All evening, we sat there and talked. It was as if perhaps we'd known each other for years and were merely rekindling an old friendship. After the first hour, we stopped talking about being roommates and just talked. The subjects varied greatly, and I ended up confiding in him things I wouldn't normally let complete strangers in on. He confirmed my suspicions that he was gay, not like it was hard to tell by his mannerisms. By a quarter after nine, we both decided we were hungry, and instead of letting him go home, I told him I would take him out to celebrate me finding my new roommate. Needless to say, he was ecstatic.

All during dinner, I half expected him to make a pass at me. I know how stereotypical that is, but I'm not a bad looking guy, and he seemed to have pretty good taste in just about everything. To my surprise, the whole night went by and not even a hint that he was the least bit interested. In a way, I was relieved, being that I'm not gay and I wouldn't have gone with it anyway, but a part of me was almost disappointed; as if wondering if he thought I wasn't good-looking enough for him. When we parted, he told me he would finish packing this weekend and be by to move in on Monday. He tapped my arm and thanked me for dinner, but that's it. I sat up all night thinking about what a sophomoric idiot I was being. I finally fell asleep around 6 in the morning.

By Monday, my place was spotless and ready to be occupied. By 8 in the morning, I was sitting restlessly on my living room couch with nothing to do but wait. I found myself so excited, I couldn't stand to watch T.V., listen to the radio or read. Luckily, by around 10, my doorbell rang. I hate to tell you how fast I sprang up to answer it. The door swings open, and instead of my roommate, there stands a young lady about my age moving boxes from a U-Haul to my front doorstep. She looked a lot like Travis, probably his sister helping him move. How sweet.

"Oh, good morning! Where can I put these for now?" She gives me the same charming smile, only now with rich, chocolate-painted lips. They were definitely related. I point by the couch and blatantly check out her ass in that tight leather skirt as she bends over to put the stuff down. I couldn't get over how amazingly hot his sister was.

"Morning." I rub the back of my neck, trying to act all innocent when she turns back around to face me. "I'm Theo. You're Travis' sister, right? What's your name?" I put out a hand for her to shake.

She stands there wide-eyed for a moment, blinking at me. "Omigawd, Theo, you don't recognize me? It's me, Travis."

My jaw hits the floor and my heart drops into my ankles. All I can do is muster up a fit of nervous laughter and shake my head. "What?? No way. Stop fucking with me."

"I'm serious, Theo, this is what I do. I'm a crossdresser. I'm sorry if it freaks you out, but I'm comfortable this way." Jesus, and I was checking out his ass! "So are you gonna help me with these boxes or what?" He smirks, trying to change the subject.

Not knowing what else to do, I grab a box and start helping. After a while of awkward silence, I wait until we're both in his bedroom catching our breaths over some ice water to ask him one of the many questions burning the back of my tongue. "So how…I mean how long have you been doing this?"

"Dressing like a woman?" He smiles, and my eyes follow a bead of sweat that dribbles from his temple and down along the length of his pale jugular, past his collarbone and disappearing into the top of his blood red blouse. "Ever since I was little I guess…dressing up in mommy's clothing, you know the deal." I suddenly shake myself out of my stupor. Yes, he looks like a woman. Yes, he's unfathomably hot, in fact a lot hotter than most of the women you've dated. But there's something hidden down there that none of your past girlfriends had that you don't want. Remember that.

"And do like…your parents know about this? I mean, are they okay with it?" I take a seat on a box and stare deep into those deep blue pools of his, enthralled.

"My parents come to almost all of my shows." He giggles. "It took them a while to accept me, but they're over it now. I'm still their only son." He arches one of his delicate brows at me. "Why, are your parents going to freak out over you rooming with a transvestite? Are they going to think I'm some sort of depraved, kid-touching pervert?"

"Probably." I laugh, not really meaning to insult him. "My mom's idea of a career was being a loyal housewife and my old man is the typical old-fashioned, armchair sports fan who uses the words 'fag' and 'fairy' like 'is' and 'the'. I'm just gonna tell them you're a woman. That might get them to lay off of the 'when are you getting married and giving us grandchildren' stint they've been on."

"And have them pester us to tie the knot? No thanks, I'll be a man when they're over, thank you very much." I was almost insulted by that remark.

"C'mon, let's get the last of the stuff inside, it's supposed to rain later." I lie, wanting to end this conversation and get the work overwith. He merely nods and walks out in front of me. I can't help but glance at that ass again, then internally smack myself for it.

That night, I help him unpack a bit and get himself settled. I show him the little tricks needed to work my shower and stove, and warn him about the loose floorboard leading to the balcony. He cooks dinner for the both of us, and I'm thoroughly impressed. "Wow, you have impeccable style, talent, and you can make a mean meatloaf. I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

He covers his mouth and chuckles at me. "Well, dear, from all the stuff I found in your fridge, you seem like you enjoy cooking as well."

"I do, but that doesn't mean I'm any good at it." He laughs again, and I decide I enjoy hearing that sound. Our conversation strays into our past love lives over the course of the night, and from the way he describes his past boyfriends, he seems to go for the clean-cut, intellectual type, if a bit artsy. If I were gay, I'd be right up his alley. After dinner, I stand in the doorway of his room, watching him make his bed. We both have work tomorrow; otherwise, I would recommend we go out to see a movie or something. I just enjoy hanging out with him, he's such a relaxed, easy-going person, so good to talk to.

"Okay, Theo, thanks for all the help, but I'm going to have to kick you out now so I can get changed for bed." He smiles, but his tone of voice is semi-serious. I nod, take one last look at that unbelievable form of his and retire into my bedroom to sufficiently berate and lecture myself on the merits of keeping my hormones in check. I end up jerking off three times to the thought of bending him over the arm of the couch and plowing my dick in between those thick, plush ass cheeks. Only then am I able to fall asleep.

The weeks that followed became increasingly difficult. We worked most of the time, but at night and on the weekends we were always together; renting movies, going out to eat, playing pool, bowling, and just generally hanging out. I never got sick of being around him, watching him do the most mundane things, hearing him laugh…and every night when we'd go to bed, I'd almost expect him to kiss or hug me, but he never did. I'd sit up nights beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with me. A few times, I'd go to the bathroom in the middle of the night only to find him sneaking a midnight snack wearing nothing but a skimpy little nighty. Other times, I'd watch him get ready in the morning, standing in front of the full-length mirror in just his bra and panties, applying his make-up. It never failed to make me rock hard. As difficult as it is for me to admit this, one night, when I knew he'd be at work late, I snuck into his room and stole one of his panties to jerk off in. That was the night I fully got over the "you shouldn't be thinking these things about another man" complex and finally admitted to myself that I wanted him worse than I've ever wanted anyone in my life.

Then one day, he comes home from work all excited and happier than I've ever seen him. "Theo!" He comes running to me and gives me a big hug. I immediately pitch a tent in my pants. "You'll never guess what happened to me!" His bright blue eyes gleam, his slender hands still gripping my broad shoulders. Every nerve in my body wanted to lean over and kiss him.

"What? What's going on? Did you win the lottery?" I grab his waist and hold him close, this being the first time he's ever showed affection to me. I didn't want it to end.

"This guy I work with, his name is Robert…" He bites his lip and jumps up and down a bit. "Omigawd, he is SO…CUTE…Theo, he asked me out! I'm going on a date with him! I can't believe it! Isn't that amazing??" //Amazing…you mean amazing as in how quick you managed to tear my heart from my chest and shove it down my throat? Sure, I'll say that's pretty amazing.\\

"Um…yeah, that's great, Trav. I'm happy for you." I put on my best, most convincing smile. Mr. Deville, you can give me my fucking Emmy now, you bastard.

"You have to meet him. Come to the show tomorrow, please?" He grips my collar in a stunning display of melodrama. I feel sick to my stomach. The last thing I wanna do now is meet some asshole who had the guts to do what I couldn't.

"I can't, you know I have work tomorrow." I let go of him and turn away, beginning to walk off. He grabs my arm and pulls me back.

"Aw, excuses, excuses. Every time I ask you to come see my show, you weasel your way out of it. I promise, tomorrow, my parents aren't going to be there." He sees the lingering reluctance on my face and knits his brows sternly. "I won't take no for an answer this time, Theo. You're going and that's final."

"And you're going to do what, drag me there??" I raise my brows at him, chuckling mockingly.

"If I have to." He crosses his arms. We stand there like that for a good few minutes, just staring each other down. I can almost imagine Travis up there, dancing and sweating in some skimpy leather teddy and full stage make-up, humping and grinding against the other dancers, slithering that gorgeous body all over the stage, getting the biggest hard on and trying not to let the audience notice…

"Please don't make me go." It was suppose to be a thought, but it leaked through my lips as a pained whimper. At first, I don't even realize I said it. He narrows his eyes at me and takes a step back.

"Why? What are you so afraid of?" He whispers, his tone hot and intense. I merely cover my mouth and shake my head. He grabs my arm impatiently, his tone getting louder and more demanding. "Theo, answer me. Are you that afraid to be in a room full of homosexuals? You think you'll get AIDS or something? What??"

"No, it's not that! I don't give a shit about gay guys, you know that." My eyes advert to the ceiling, the drapes, the carpet, anywhere but him.

"Then talk to me, tell me what's really keeping you away. Is it me? I mean…" He lets go, putting his hand to his chest, looking genuinely upset. "You're okay with my lifestyle as long as you don't have to actually SEE what I do, is that it?"

"No…I…I just don't wanna meet this Robert jerkoff. It's not that big a deal, okay? I don't like crowded theaters either, so just back off. I'm not going and THAT'S final." I debate whether I should whip out the line from Fight Club, 'This conversation is over', but it would just be overkill, and seeing Travis this pissed off with me actually, physically hurt.

"Fine." He huffs, tears threatening his sapphire eyes. "You'd probably just be a third wheel anyway." And with that, he spins on his heels and walks right back out the door, slamming it shut. I flinch at the sound pretty hard.

That night, I fall asleep on the couch in front of the T.V. waiting for him to come home, but he never does. The next day, I'm two hours late for work and I nearly get fired. I make up some excuse that I'm ill and end up going home less than an hour later. I drag myself home and stop short when I realize the door is half open. One of Travis' belts was lying visibly in the middle of the living room floor. Panic rises in my chest and screeches to a halt in the back of my throat, and the first thing I do is reach into the umbrella basket and arm myself. God, if anything happened to him, I'd…hell, I don't know what I'd do.

Gripping the umbrella tight, it's thick, wooden handle up, ready to whack someone with it, I creep quietly into the seemingly vacant apartment. I can faintly hear water running from the bathroom. I swallow the nervous lump in my throat and turn the corner, slowly heading towards the slightly ajar bathroom door. From here, I can see the slight mist of steam coming from inside. It felt like I was in a horror movie, where everything was in slow motion and there was this spooky suspense music in the background as I got closer and closer to the bathroom. I wanted to call his name. I needed to know if he was alright. I push the door open further with my foot, and thick white steam bellows out at me, making my eyes water and my face sweat. I could just barely make out Travis' slender form, still fully clothed and curled up in the shower. I put down the umbrella and fall to my knees in front of the tub, reaching in to put a hand on his trembling shoulder.

"AAHH!!" He shrieks, spins around and smacks me right in the face as a knee-jerk reaction. I fall backwards with a grunt and he sits up, covering his mouth with both hands, bursting into tears. "Oh god, Theo, I'm so sorry!" He sobs, curling up again.

I sit up, rubbing my face. "What happened to you?? Are you okay?"

He shakes his head no, hugging his knees. I crawl back over to him, climb halfway into the shower and hold him. He immediately wraps his arms around me. "Oh Theo, I was such an idiot! You were right, Rob was a jerkoff." I smooth the streams of his long, raven hair away from his face, hushing him, trying to calm him down. He takes a deep breath and swallows hard, starting over. "I went straight to his house last night. I mean, I was expecting us to have sex if I spent the night but…" He pauses to allow for a coughing fit.

"So what happened? Did that mother fucker rape you or something? I'll make him eat his own fucking legs."

"We weren't supposed to go out until tonight, so when he picked me up and drove me there, he was with all of his drunk friends. And he had me sit in on their poker game and started telling them that I was some hot little crossdressing slut who loved to take dick. By the time I had enough of his insulting remarks and got up to leave, all his friends wanted a piece of me." He trembles like a leaf in my arms, and my grip on him tightens. "They tried to rape me, they had me pinned down on the table…I was in such a panic, I just started biting and scratching like an animal, I don't know how I managed to get out…but thank god I did."

"Jesus fucking Christ." My teeth grind together in anger.

"He had picked me up in his car so I didn't know how to get home…it took me all night to find my way back." He starts to cry again and I climb the rest of the way into the tub and sit there with him under the hot stream of water. I wait a little while longer before I reach over to shut it off.

"C'mon, let's go get you changed into some clean, dry clothes. You'll feel better." He gives me a weak nod and I pick him up and carry him out. I wrap a towel around him and dry his hair. "Uh…if I undress you, you wouldn't smack me again, would you? I mean, you're still a guy, you don't have anything I don't."

"I trust you, Theo." He mutters, hugging himself. //Big mistake.\\ I retort mentally. Gently, carefully, I peel away the layers of his soaking wet clothing. His skin is pale, hot to the touch and slightly misted over with sweat. As I take off his top and bra, my arms linger tight around him and his eyes glance up and lock onto mine. For a moment, I'm lost in his glare, my body frozen stiff. I see him swallow hard and I force myself to say something, anything, the first thing I can think of.

"I'm glad you're alright." I whisper, dropping his bra and wrapping the towel around his shoulders. He responds with a soft smile and a subtle tilt of his head.

"And I'm glad you're here." He closes his eyes and leans up against me, and I hold him tight again.