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There's been a big slowdown in new content so I thought I'd try to inject some activity. This story will contain similar themes from my other stories, but it will be a lot more lighthearted, I believe. Hopefully you'll find some enjoyment out of it as well. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My Roommate Rivals CHAPTER ONE: “So, Rory, are you gonna live on your own now? Enjoy the bachelor life a little?” Amy questions me as I help her box up her things. Amy is my roommate, my soon to be former roommate to be exact, and also great friend from college. “I don’t think so, I’ll probably get another roommate. Maybe even two. I’m only 24 so that extra income really helps with the mortgage.” “I would guess, I still can’t believe you were able to get a house like this.” “Yeah, perk of living in the Midwest and buying in a down market. Big houses that are cheap. You’re not going to get that out in Denver.” “Oh trust me, I know,” Amy rolls her eyes in exasperation. “I’ll have to get used to a 400 sq ft apartment. You got it lucky here.” I purchased my home a little under three years ago when I was just out of college. I like my city and knew I had a very safe position in my job even back then, so I bit the bullet and bought my first home. Certainly no mansion, but as Amy mentioned it had a lot of space for a starter home. Two bedrooms and 1-1/2 baths upstairs with a fully finished walkout basement with two more bedrooms and another full bath downstairs. A little of 2500 square feet, no too shabby, even though half of that is a basement. That being said, purchasing a house so young I knew I some assistance with the mortgage would be needed. So since I bought my house I’ve had a handful of roommates over the years and it had worked out great. The house was perfect to rent rooms out with the walkout. It gave me my privacy upstairs when I wanted it and it’s hard to argue with the extra income. Plus, I was still young and more than happy to stay connected as much as I could to my college friends, many of whom were still undergrads. With a big open backyard as well, my home made for a good place to have the occasional shindig as well. Amy offers a lead as I carry some boxes upstairs, “Well if you don’t have anyone lined up yet, my cousin just graduated and is looking for a place. He’s a business major, works for the air conditioner manufacturing plant across town.” “Oh yeah? That’s cool. I already put out a feeler among my buddies on Facebook. I’d much prefer to find roommates from friends like you rather than sift through the weirdos on Craigslist and such. Then if he sucks I can blame you." Amy giggles as we load the boxes into her car. “He’s cool. He’s a frat boy, Theta Chi.” I give her skeptical look. “I know, I know! But he’s alright. Yeah, a little bit of a tool but all fratties are. If he gives you shit let me know and I’ll kick his ass.” We share a laugh and Amy tells me she’ll get me in touch with him. “Sweet, I’ll let Grif know.” “Grif? Really?” “Shut up!” Amy then gives me a devious look, “Plus Rory, regardless of their personalities, don’t act like you haven’t told me that you think frat guys are hot.” I smirk back at her, “Ok, you sold me. As long as he wears a polo. If he’s ok living with a gay dude then I could give it a try." - Seven days later I’m sitting at a BWW’s reading a menu when I see a hand reach out to me in my peripheral vision. I look up and see a stunning young man smiling down to me. “Are you Rory?” I nod. “Hey bro, I’m Griffin, nice to meet you.” I shake his hand and my eyes trace up the defined forearm, past his elbow to nicely pumped biceps which are encased in snug sleeves. I take in his torso…oh yeah, he’s even rocking a polo. I laugh inwardly wondering if Amy told him to do so to make a good impression on me. Either way it’s working. I can make just out his pecs through the polo and note how his waist is still hiding in the loose fabric, indicating its tightness. He has very broad and round shoulders, perhaps he was a swimmer back in high school. Standing there I judge him to be about 5’10 with a nicely gym built body. Far from huge, but he definitely uses the weight room on a regular basis. I look up to his face. Oh yeah, typical frat boy, but I can’t deny I’m temporarily smitten. Strong jaw, full lips, Roman nose. His face is a perfect combination of masculinity mixed with a still maturing, yet boyish face. On top of his head is neatly styled dirty blond hair contrasting his bright blue eyes. My stomach flutters as I attempt to regain my voice. “Hi Griffin. Have a seat, I already ordered a beer, the waitress should be back soon. You like wings?” “Hell yeah man, who doesn’t! The hotter the better.” We chat and I do my best to get a feel for the guy. The waitress comes by and takes our order and Griffin orders himself a beer as well. “So I guess that means you’re 21?” I ask. “Yep, just turned two months ago.” “Are you a big drinker, Griffin?” “Call me Grif, bro. I’m not a huge drinker, but I like to party, yeah.” Grif chuckles, sensing my apprehension. “But I promise I’m not one of those alcoholic frat boys. I like to party, but I keep it reasonable. Only the weekends. Plus, too much booze is bad for the abs.” Griffin smiles, leans back and pats his stomach. The fibers of his tanned forearms undulate as he does. Inside I’m wishing he would pull up the shirt and give me a glimpse. As we chat more I quickly catch on that he has the frat boy charm. He’s a guy who is used to getting what he wants, but it also becomes clear he’s worked for what he has too. He came to college with minimal scholarships and worked part time for most his undergrad. I can respect that. He lets me know he’s got a typical 8-5 job so our work schedules would be the same. We are both into watching sports even though I’m not nearly as athletic as him. It seems like a good fit, and I trust Amy’s judgement. “Well, Grif, I think this could work out if you still want to rent out my room?” “Sweet, dude! Yeah man, if those rates you told Amy are still good then I’m in for sure. Amy told me about the basement and I trust her. Sounds like you got a great setup.” “Great! Oh…um…I don’t know if Amy mentioned this, but-” Grif cuts me off “You’re gay right, bro? Amy already told me.” “Um…yeah. Is that a problem?” Grif smiles and takes a drink of his beer. “Fuck no, dude. Some of my favorite guys from Theta Chi were gay. Is it gonna be a problem that I’m a breeder?” I laugh out loud and Grif raises his glass to mine and we cheers. - It’s just three days later when Grif starts moving in. He has a couple of his frat bros helping him and I’m swooning at all the hot young men in my home. They are all boisterous and playful but I can tell they are good dudes. And their muscle definitely comes in handy and not just for my eyes and spank-bank. All the bros are wearing cutoff shirts exposing their rock arms and giving me glimpses of pecs. Their strong bodies easily handle the big items. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to help Grif move in his dresser, the thing was massive. Luckily I got to stand by and hold the door open as these jacked frat boys move Grif’s stuff in. Grif and his bros are impressed with my house as well, which I take pride in. I can tell Grif is excited, “Damn dude, Amy didn’t do this basement justice. This living room down here is HUGE! And you even got a bar down here? With fridge and microwave? This is awesome!” Grif throws his meaty arm around my shoulder, “Whenever you bring over a hot stud I got all I need to stay down here and let you have at him!” I laugh and reciprocate, “Yeah Grif. And if you have a chick down here you got all you need.” “Not ‘IF’, Rory-boy. WHEN!” Grif squeezes my shoulder and pats me on the back. I reward the guys with pizza and beer which only cements my endearment to Grif’s buddies. They ask if I ever host parties and I tell them occasionally. “But you guys can certainly come over anytime you want to hang with Grif.” Grif smiles and adds, “And to hang with you too, buddy!” Late that night after Griffin’s friends have left I leave him alone to get settled in. As he does I notice a new message on my phone from my mother. [Hi Rory. My coworker Wendy has a son who is looking for a room. He’s in his last year at the University. He was always a good kid in high school. Here is his Facebook page if you’re interested. Love you!] [Thanks mom. Give me a few days to think about it. New guy seems cool. I prefer one roommate but let me think it over. Love ya too.] The next day the decision becomes easier. I find out that all annual merit raises as work have been frozen since business is down. I grumble but I suppose I should be thankful that I wasn’t one of the 15% who were laid off last month. All of sudden the income of another roommate is very enticing so I let my mother know I’ll set something up. I bring it up with Grif too. “That’s up to you, Rory-boy. I’m good with another roommate if you are. I lived in a frat house with 40 other guys, just 2 other roommates is a huge improvement. Just please don’t bring in a weirdo.” “I won’t Grif. He’s a bartender, I’m meeting up with him tonight.” “A bartender, huh? Well that’s a good sign. Plus if he can get me free or reduced drinks at his bar then I’m in for sure!” I’ve arranged to meet up with the new prospect at his bar. He works most nights so this was the only way I could see him during my normal hours. Being a college town and with it still being summer, the bar shouldn't be too busy so he assures me via text that he’ll be able to talk. I ask the woman behind the counter, “Excuse me, is Osbourne here?” She looks at me before shouting down the bar, “Oz! Someone’s here for you!” A man comes from behind the wall of booze wiping his hands on a towel and approaches me. His is a fine specimen of man I must say. He is long and lean with dark complexion that goes perfectly with his short black hair. He either has some Mediterranean genes or he has spent a considerable amount of time tanning this summer. I take in his dark piercing eyes, he is one of those guys who looks like they are wearing eyeliner. He’s a got a couple small tattoos on his forearms which look like black flames but I don’t look too closely. His has a very tight and lithe body, sort of like a male runway model. I can tell he has some power in his taut muscles, he gives me the impression of a compressed spring. A man with a lot more power than he looks. I peg him at about 5’11, maybe 170 lbs. He’s wearing a snug black shirt which gives an impression of the firm muscles underneath. The dark jeans he’s wearing show off a surprising ample ass, which no doubt gets worked a lot, either in the gym or with the women he picks up. All in all, the guy is smoldering. The type of guys that gives ‘dark and mysterious’ its appeal. He smiles at me, “Hey man, are you Rory? I’m Oz. What can I get you, it’s on the house.” “Top shelf it is!” I joke and he grins. “Kidding, any hefeweizen will do.” “Got just the thing for ya, man.” Like any good bartender he is charming and engaging. He makes me feel like he genuinely interesting getting to know me, even if he isn’t. I certainly want to get to know him better, especially sans clothes, but I keep this to myself. “Just got a few classes left before I can graduate with my business degree,” he lets me know. “This bartending job pays pretty well so I’m not in a huge hurry to get my degree, honestly. So instead of one tough final semester I’m going to stretch what I have left over two semesters and graduate next Spring.” “Smart man. So I already have one roommate, is that cool?” “If it’s not a problem with him its not a problem with me. I just gotta get out of my current place. I currently live with four other dudes. Five guys in one big house is way too many. The place is a pigsty and I’m a very clean person.” “I like hearing that, Oz. So you’ll still be bartending for the next year then?” “At least. I’d be a great roommate. We wouldn’t even really cross paths too often. I work afternoons and nights until closing and my normal days off are Sunday and Monday. So most of the time I won’t see you. We wouldn’t be in each others way too much.” This revelation gives me conflicting feelings, I love the idea that the second roommate will almost be invisible…yet at the same time I WANT to see as much of this gorgeous man as I could. “One last thing, Oz. I don’t know if your mom told you, but I’m gay, I hope that’s alright.” Oz chuckles as he smiles at me. “She didn’t tell me but honestly I pegged you as gay right away.” “You did? How!?” Oz smirks at me, “Because I’m hot, dude. And Erica, the girl who called me over. She’s smokin’ hot too, but you were only looking at me.” I hide my face, embarrassed and Oz laughs. “No worries man. It wasn’t obvious. It’s a skill I’ve picked up being a bartender. And to answer your question, I don’t care at all that you’re gay. Love is love, man. Here, have another free beer since I embarrassed ya.” He sets a new bottle down on the bar in front of me and gives me a smoldering wink. - The following weekend Oz pulls into my driveway on Saturday morning with the back of his pickup full of of his belongings. I welcome him inside where Grif and I have been eating breakfast. Grif and Oz lock eyes for the first time in my home. Grif drops his cereal spoon, rolls his eyes and moans dramatically. “Awww man, Rory? You’re letting this loser live here?” I’m taken aback by Grif’s rudeness but turn to see Osbourne smirking at Grif. “I take it you two know each other?” Oz approaches Grif and slaps him on the shoulder with a grin. “Griffin of Theta Chi! How’s it going man? Still salty about how we beat you guys for the flag football crown?” Grif huffs, “That was a lucky fuckin’ fluke play and you know it!” “We still won!” Oz grins brightly. “So you two do know each other.” “Yeah, Grif and I here were in the top two frats at the university. Our frats were big rivals. My frat, Phi Delta Theta has won the most intramural Greek trophies in the last few years. We usually beat the little Theta Chi boys here like Grif. But hey man, 2nd place is still pretty good,” Oz says patronizingly. “The Phi Delts always got the calls by the refs, some shady shit if you ask me,” Grif grumbles. “But my frat was known for having WAY better parties with MUCH hotter girls. Can’t deny that, Oz! Sorry you guys were never invited.” The two continue to banter and I watch them close. While it’s clear they are both proud members of their frats and both extremely competitive, I don’t get the sense that they hate each other. They seem to have a frenemies relationship. Regardless I decide I better make sure this is the case. “So boys, is this gonna be a problem? You two are going to start coming to blows are you? Because you guys are both a lot bigger than me, I can’t stop you.” The two laugh and Grif answers, “Naw boss, we’ll be fine. Plus, if we fought, Oz here would be in trouble since I’m clearly bigger and stronger.” Grif smirks and quickly throws up a single arm flex. A well developed biceps muscle pops up. Oz grins and turns to Grif. He stands right up to him, “Are you sure your bigger, Grif? I’ve got a couple of inches of height on you, little guy.” “Couple of inches my ass! You are maybe an inch taller, bro. I still weigh more than you, skinny.” “Barely. Well I’m still taller!” “And I’m still bigger!” - Oz takes the day to get settled in. He is wearing a sleeveless shirt as we hauls his stuff in and I enjoy his caramel skin which is stretched tight over his very lean muscles as I suspected. Oz is much more vascular and lean than I previously thought. He’s not as bulky as Grif but has that wiry look, almost like a wrestler. I catch a glimpse of his abs through he side of his very loose cutoff tank…and it’s very nice. By that evening Oz is settled into his room in the basement next to Grif’s. With a big sigh Oz joins us on the couch in the living room. “No plans tonight, Grif?” he asks. “Did you lose all your friends or what?" “No, twat. Just a low key Saturday tonight. I went out last night.” “Got it. No friends.” Oz teases and Grif chucks a pillow at his face. Later that night their intensely competitive streak comes out again as I hear screaming coming from the basement living room. I tromp down the stairs to find the two studs playing Call of Duty. “What the hell are you guys doing down here?” “Well, Oz here is fucking CHEATING, that’s what’s happening.” Oz just laughs, “Sorry, boss. Grif here just can’t handle losing to the better man. You’d think he’d better at coping by now, poor guy.” “Fuck off!” Grif slams his controller down and stomps to his room. I laugh as I watch him sulk off, “It’s not that big of a deal, Grif,” but he just huffs as he walks by. I may have underestimated the intensity of their rivalry.