AUTHOR'S NOTE:
The series
One Sub Stud
is a continuation of the stories about Chris and Justin, which began in
Chris Donaldson
and continued in
Mr. One Fifty-Eight.
While each chapter is a short story in its own right, you will probably enjoy this episode much more if you have already read both of the above series, as well as Chapter 1 of
One Sub Stud
. The back stories are contained therein. All characters depicted in this story are over 18.
It was a large, sturdy house. Stone façade, front hedge, spacious back lawn, two stories, four fireplaces. It had been built in the 30's for a family prominent in local politics; the daughter who had inherited it had been a leader in the fading days of the Women's Christian Temperance Union. After her death in 1992 it had lain empty. A spinster, she had left it to the University – but they had not known what to do with it, since it was more than ten blocks northwest of campus, practically in the next suburb. It was sold within a year, to an alum who decided to rent it to needy students. His first tenants were from Sigma Alpha Epsilon – so not exactly needy. Or temperate. Poor old Eleanor would have rolled over in her mausoleum had she known her sedate suburban abode had become a group home for frat boys living out of the house their senior year. But so it was.
The sweetest of pads, it had hosted many young men (and their various overnight companions) over the last twenty-some years. Some of them had performed ad hoc renovations, meant to improve upon crazy Eleanor's own modifications; the result was a large house with good bones, but which was weirdly laid out in places. Inside it had a dated and mismatched look, but the overall effect was more whimsical than rundown.
It was inconveniently located, but that was part of its charm. The big old house was an oasis – the fraternities were only a mile and a half away, but for anyone living on campus, it might as well have been out of state. The first group had passed it to friends, and their friends to other friends. Those who had wanted to live there were attracted by its isolation, and were often the iconoclasts of their class. They possessed a different kind of cool. In their own minds, they had transcended the ordinary trappings of belonging. The fraternity officers had usually looked a little askance at the young men who had chosen that residence, but they had envied them, too.
Eventually, the liberal owner had grown disillusioned with the frat boy ilk, and evicted them all one summer to prevent them from keeping it "in the family". They were replaced by a more diverse group of renters (although still all male). But rich frat boys are devious, and the memory of the perfect off-campus refuge had persisted in SAE lore. Jeff Woodard, a student of history, a keen observer, and a veteran manipulator, had managed to convince the landlord that *his* new fraternity group would be different. They would be only three, not five or six hedonists like previous occupants. And after Justin Corvino had proposed Chris Donaldson, the erstwhile SAE pledge, to join them, Jeff had been able to play a trump card. He had intimated to the landlord, in a nod to diversity, that they might take on a fourth roommate: this person would not be from the fraternity, but would be less advantaged, and . . . they thought . . . gay. The landlord had agreed. Four men instead of the usual six meant (hopefully) less wear and tear, and if one of them was (purportedly) a homosexual, that surely meant a higher standard of cleanliness throughout. He was able to quaff his chardonnay at his downtown high-rise in peace, confident in Jeff's very firm handshake and piercing, intelligent green eyes.
And so, since the end of spring quarter, Jeff and Justin's focus had been on getting the homosexual to move in. And tangentially, getting Tag Newton, the homosexual's former pledge dad, to agree to the foursome. Tag felt awkward around Chris, but his former pledge son's digs would be in the basement. The other three would all have rooms upstairs. Getting Tag to grudgingly approve had been easy enough, once it had been explained that interaction could be minimal, if it felt uncomfortable.
Chris was another matter. He already had a place to live that he liked, as Jeff understood it. But Jeff also understood that Chris' presence in the house was an imperative for Justin – and he knew why. Yes, all three of the SAE brothers knew that slim, toned, quiet Chris was gay. Justin from (long) experience, and Jeff and Tag from obvious clues. But Tag had been completely oblivious to Justin's attachment to his handsome ex-roommate, whereas Jeff had taken only a few days during the kid's failed pledge period to recognize what was going on. He knew Justin better – they had lived on the same hall freshman year, and had pledged at the same time. They had a lot of history. So Jeff, reading between the lines, had worked assiduously to help his old friend's desire become reality. He had sent occasional friendly emails to Chris over the late spring and summer – never with the blunt pressure he assumed Justin was exerting, but always with the subtext that Chris would be comfortable in the house, that a bit of the others' prestige would rub off on him, and most of all, that Jeff and Tag would stay out of his business.
But the end of August had rolled around, and Chris still hadn't committed. Jeff assumed this had something to do with the fact that Justin had punched Chris in the face last spring – he thought the two had made up around Chris' birthday, but he knew none of the details. Jeff could get no intelligence out of Justin; the jock was too busy pretending that this thing he obviously really, really wanted was a matter of indifference to him – just a casual offer to an old friend.
The suspense lasted until almost the last possible moment. Classes started on September 23, and Justin, Jeff, and Tag had all moved into the house well before then. Jeff was first, right after the former tenants' lease was up; he spent a week making it habitable, and began to customize it for the new residents. There were TVs to position, pool and foosball tables to install, refrigerators and a bar to stock . . . but mostly, there was lots of cleaning. Jeff had insisted that the interior be completely repainted by the owner, and had driven down the price of it by coming in himself and scrubbing – which he would have done anyway to make sure it met his exacting standards. Tag and Justin hadn't known what to make of that. It was no secret he was the neatest of the three in their room over at the SAE house, but they had no idea he could be this obsessive. Jeff's goal was perfection: for himself, but also for each of them. A pristine and organized start, he thought, was the best way for each of them to embark on a year they'd hopefully cherish forever.
Senior year in college is like that. Everything is drawing to a close – schooling, relationships, recent history, a carefree existence mostly paid for by others. Jeff realized the emotional impact of that unique time while he was still in it, so he tried to make the house a space in which each important moment could be memorialized as it happened.
Tag moved in next, at the end of August, and Justin joined them a week later, once his internship in New York City was over and he had returned to the Midwest. Chris was the only wild card. To Tag, his ex-pledge son's presence felt like an extra; the three roommates from junior year were all there, so they should just get the party started. They were all well-heeled enough not to need Chris' rent contribution.
But for Justin, his sophomore-year roommate was the key to the memories he wanted to create, and the boy's absence meant the house was not complete. Tag eventually sensed Justin's need too, on some level. After all, he had known they were tight – he and Jeff had reached out to Chris to help save Justin from his downward spiral last spring. And it had all turned out ok, really, as far as Tag could see – Justin had gotten off academic probation, and had been in a much better place since April, even if his current mood did feel pretty manic.
Manic, intense . . . however you put it, Justin's total fixation on Chris' moving in had, in fact, led to conflict shortly after Labor Day. The house was large, but not a mansion; the first floor contained a spacious living room, a kitchen, a dining room, and a half bath. A deck extended from the back of the house, attached to the living room and kitchen. There were four bedrooms of various sizes upstairs, and a large two-room basement, which became the point of contention.
Tag wanted the basement to be the den, the main man cave, the sanctum. Justin refused.
