To both of them, at the time, the idea had seemed amazing. Ditch the fucking awful dorms, and their equally awful roommates–who were constantly on their fucking case about needing to pick up their clothes and cumrags off the floor, or figuring out what’s stinking in their gym bags–and live with each other instead, in an apartment not too far from campus. Daryn and Jasper decided to put their plan into action, and by the time spring semester rolled around, they had said goodbye to their shitty college living situations, and hello to living with their best friend–two football jocks, beer buddies and lazy slobs–it seemed like the perfect solution to their problem. That is, until new problems started to arise within a few weeks of the two of them living together.
What those problems were was difficult for either one of them to explain–it wasn’t that either one of them was used to competition, and in their own ways, each was at the height of the jock pecking order, and they knew it, but being forced into this close of quarters, the two of them felt somehow threatened in a way neither of them could really explain. It was subtle at first–Daryn getting pissed off that Jasper was taking up the entire dinner table with some project, even though Daryn didn’t want or need the space–the sheer fact that Jasper had claimed it unnerved him all the same, and he felt some desperate need to claim it for his own. This same sort of territorial squabbling expanded until it encompassed every common area of the apartment, and the two jocks eventually forbid one another from entering the other’s room–under what penalty neither could say, but they would do…something, right?
It was easier at school, and in the locker room and on the field it was like nothing was even wrong–and neither one of them knew how to discuss what was happening with their teammates or their coaches–or with one another. In fact, especially at home, the two of them couldn’t even really have a conversation any longer–every time it seemed to devolve into one argument or another. It was so frustrating that Daryn decided he might as well just move out–but their nice landlord, Mr. Wadsworth, sat him down and had a nice chat with him. He couldn’t just leave, could he? Abandon his entire territory to his rival? No–that most certainly wasn’t an option at all, and so he marched right back into the apartment, grabbed every bit of crap of Jasper’s he could find and threw it into his room.
Eventually, even sports became difficult. The two of them would constantly squabble about plays, they would fight for coach’s praise, they would be in constant competition for the fastest time, the highest jump, the most push-ups. Everyone could sense that something was wrong, but neither jock would discuss it–just give the other and angry look and head home. They rarely spoke anymore, and especially not in the apartment. The two of them would simply avoid one another as much as possible, glaring and grunting and growling if the other came too close to them. They stopped showering, their musk just another weapon in their arsenal–but it was Jasper who broke the truce. While Daryn was at class one morning, he drank as much as he could, went into his roommate’s room, and hosed down as much as he could with his piss. In the heat of the moment, it seemed like the most logical course of action–he had to claim it, right? It had to be his…but more than that–Daryn needed to be his, and this would show him that. That Jasper was the boss, the alpha, the ruler. He laid down on Daryn’s bed and started jacking off, snorting and grunting, keeping himself on the edge until his roommate arrived, smelled what had happened, and flung himself at Jasper with a scream.
Neither of them had a clear memory of what happened after that. They fought of course, and much to Jasper’s surprise, it was Daryn who had the upper hand on him, and relatively quickly. Built for defense, thick as a wall and quite tall, no matter what Jasper threw at him nothing would take him down. What Jasper did have was speed and agility–but not quite enough stamina. He began to tire, and Daryn used that opening to drag him to the floor and start beating him to a pump for defiling his room. It…should have stopped there. Daryn stood up, swaying a bit, looking down at what he’d done, shocked and horrified at how he’d lost control like that, but Mr. Wadsworth–he could hear the older man’s voice. He wasn’t done yet. No, he wasn’t quite done. There was…one last thing.
He got down and rolled the groaning Jasper over on the carpet, ripped down his shorts, and worked his cock into his friend’s ass. This. This is what he needed to do. If he didn’t do this, then Jasper could recover–he could fight back, but that couldn’t happen. No, Daryn was in charge. Daryn was the alpha here, and this is how Jasper was going to learn that. Jasper kept trying to crawl away, kept begging Daryn to stop, to come to his senses–he just grabbed him by the hair and fucked harder until at last he exploded deep within Jasper’s guts, and as he did, both of them felt some strange energy from the room surrounding them infuse them. A moment later, they had both passed out on the floor, the older man looming over them, chuckling–now that the contest had been decided, the real fun could begin.
Bracken's Corner 