Terence x Rodney: Let's Get You Home

Terence didn’t even know why he agreed to come to this. He hated loud, wild parties, almost as much as he hated the fraternity near his apartment complex that held them every weekend. Sometimes even weekdays, which really ticked him off. But a friend of a friend knew someone at Epsilon Beta Pepsico or whatever the heck this fraternity even was, and Terence found himself trapped in one of the worst kinds of psychological torture devices known to man: a moral obligation to go out. He knew nobody here, and spent the majority of the evening at the frat house’s bar nursing a rum and coke which had gone flat.

He checked the time on his phone, it wasn’t even 9 pm yet and he had been here for a little over two hours. It felt like an eternity to him. Terence groaned, shoving the phone back in his pocket before knocking back the last mouthful of his drink. He didn’t ever drink much, but was feeling like he needed more support to get through tonight.

“Bartender! Get me another!” Terence shouted, but the noise of the frat house was too much. House music was playing over the speakers, a group of drunk boys were playing beer pong and yelling, and occasionally there was a loud crack from the billiards table as someone tried to do a trick shot. Terence shouted again, this time getting the bartender’s attention and getting another rum and coke.

“What’s the matter, man? You look down.” The bartender asked. He was a man not much older than Terence, wearing the same colored fraternity jacket as most of the guys here.

“It’s just…” Terence sighed. “I dunno. I’d really rather just be home right now. This place is getting way too-“

But he was interrupted as the bartender’s attention shifted somewhere else. “Hey! I told you! You’re cut off for tonight!”

Terence leaned forwards, looking down the bar to see who the bartender was talking to. An extremely tall, lanky man with shaggy ginger hair and a kool-aid red streak in it was slumped on a barstool, an empty beer glass in hand. His face was flushed red, and it was obvious that he was having trouble staying balanced even in his seat. Terence recognized this guy, they lived in the same apartment building, and had never really spoken to each other before. Terence saw this as an opportunity to leave the party and got an idea. He downed as much of his rum and coke as he could in one swig, left a tip and stood up from the bar.

“I’m calling you a cab.” The bartender said. “You’re in no condition to get home.”

The drunk man snickered. “You’re a cab.”

“What? That joke doesn’t even make sense, it’s supposed to be me calling you ‘a cab’ and-y’know what? You’re seriously drunk.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Terence interjected. “I’ve got him. I’ll bring him home, I know where he lives.”

“You sure?” The bartender asked.

“I’m sure. C’mon.” Terence lifted one of the drunk man’s arms around his shoulders and helped the drunk man out of his stool. They awkwardly stumbled out of the door together, navigating through crowds of people until they were finally outside.

“I coulda…I coulda gotten home m’self.” The drunk man slurred. “My building’s right…”

He tried to point, but his eyes glazed over for a second. “It’s one of those two. If they’d stop moving I’d show you.”

“Which room?” Terence asked.

“Is uh…How about…here, just do this.” The drunk man dug into his pocket, handing Terence his keychain and wallet. One of the keys on the ring had a little sticker with ‘16’ on it, and because Terence was curious, he looked in the man’s wallet for an ID.  ‘Rodney Reid’ was displayed in neat little writing on his driver’s license, next to a picture of a much-less-drunk him.

“Okay Rodney, let’s get you home. I’m Terence, by the way.”

The two men continued their weird little three-legged-race towards the apartment complex. It was only a block away, but Rodney could barely pick his feet off the ground so it felt like a mile.

“Wanna hear a ssssecret?” Rodney whispered. “I’ve seen ya around, and every time I saw ya I thought, ‘Dang, guys with glasses are hot.’”

Terence chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

“I’m not-I’m wasn’t, wasn’t done. I always kinda wanted to tell you that, but…is kinda weird, y’know? I can’t just walk up to a guy and be like, ‘hey, you’re hot!’ ‘Cause…then if you’re not into guys, then I made it awkward for both of us, ‘n’ then I made…I made myself sad.”

“I’ll get back to you on that.” Terence added. They had reached the door, and someone who was going out of the apartment held it open for the two of them.

They trudged along to the elevators, because room 16 was on the fourth floor of the apartment building, which also happened to be its highest floor. There was no way the two of them were going to go up that many flights of stairs. Rodney was slowly starting to balance better, and let go of Terence’s shoulders so he could lean up against the corner of the elevator.

“I gotta ‘nother confession.” Rodney began. “One time this elevator was closed ‘cause I got drunk at a different bar ‘n’ then threw up all over the buttons.”

“That was you?!” Terence exclaimed. His shock quickly subsided. “Actually, now that I think about it I’m not that surprised.”

The elevator dinged and then opened, and Rodney put his arm back on Terence’s shoulder to help him walk again. Terence still had Rodney’s keys and wallet, and opened the apartment door to let them both in.

“Good god, you live like this?” Terence asked upon seeing the state of the apartment. It was a mess, with pizza boxes and other trash strewn about, the garbage can overflowing and a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. The smell was terrible, and Terence had to pull his shirt over his nose just to stomach it.

“We spray some…smelly stuff in here sometimes but…yeah, yeah it’s bad.” Rodney let go of Terence’s shoulders and wobbled over to faceplant on the couch. When Terence walked over he could see that Rodney was already asleep, or at least about to be.

Terence knew his job wasn’t yet done here, so he tilted Rodney’s body so he was laying on his side with his face over the side of the couch. He rummaged through the apartment’s closet and found a mop bucket that he placed underneath Rodney’s mouth. A pad of sticky notes was on the coffee table, and Terence left Rodney a note before leaving.

‘I helped you get home last night. Call me if you need anything else. -Terence Watson’ He signed off with his phone number, and left the note on the coffee table along with Rodney’s keys and wallet.

Terence’s own room was on the second floor, so he hopped into the elevator and rode it down. He wasn’t tired enough to go to bed just yet, so he figured a quick shower and finishing up some school work would eat up enough time before he felt tired enough. He turned on the hot water in his bathroom and waited for the shower to warm up, but paused when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Terence took off his glasses, then put them back on, and repeated a few times.

“…He’s right. I do look hotter with my glasses.”

The next morning, Terence was waiting on Rodney to call him. It was almost 9:30 am, and Terence hadn’t even eaten yet. He was frying some bacon and eggs in his own kitchen, something in the back of his mind worrying him. Was Rodney okay? He was pretty messed up last night, could he have choked on his own vomit or something?

Terence heard his phone vibrate, and he quickly felt relieved. It was from an unknown number, so hopefully this was it.

“Hello?” Terence answered.

“Hey…I got a note from you saying you helped me get home last night?” His voice was a mumble, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m just cooking some breakfast right now, want me to bring you some?”

“Sure…yeah. The door’s unlocked, you know where my room is.”

Terence had actually made double just in case something like this happened. He put the two portions on two separate paper plates, covered them with plastic wrap, and left his room. In his pockets were his keys, some plastic silverware, and a to-go pack of Alka-Seltzer.

He entered Rodney’s room to find him exactly in the same place Terence had left him. The mop bucket hadn’t been puked in, thank goodness, but Rodney was obviously very hung over.

“Leave the food on the table, I don’t want it just yet. God, I need water though. My mouth feels like it’s full of cat fur.”

“I got something for that.” Terence replied, revealing the packet of Alka-Seltzer.

“Ohh my god you’re an angel.” Rodney muttered before burying his face back into the pillow.

Terence filled a plastic solo cup with water and dropped in the fizzy tablets. Rodney sat up just enough so that he could drink, and slurped as Terence sat at the end of the couch.

“Hey, man, I have to ask. Did I say anything embarrassing last night?”

“I’ll be honest, yeah. You did.”

Rodney dropped his head back. “Ugh. I knew it. What’d I say?”

“You said you’ve seen me around and think guys with glasses are hot.”

“God, that must’ve been awkward.” Rodney rubbed his hands on his eyes and down his face. “See, when I’m sober I’m not usually so open about that kind of thing, but drunk me likes to make it known to everyone that I’m gay. …And drunk me was telling the truth when he said that, I’ll admit.”

A few quiet seconds passed with Terence not knowing how to respond and Rodney taking another sip of his drink.

“Okay, I’m just gonna go for it and ask this. Are you gay, too?”

“I’m not.”

Rodney sighed, mumbling something while putting the cup up to his lips again.

“I’m bi as heck, though.” Terence said with a smirk.

Rodney sputtered. “Dangit! Man! You got me! You got me good there, wow! So uh…since we’ve met, and this happened, is there any chance you’d-?”

“There’s an opening at the university gallery on Friday starting at 6. A piece I’ve made is gonna be on display there. It’ll be full of people standing around critiquing the art, but we can grab dinner after, if you’d like.”

“All right, cool! What kind of art?”

“I do textiles, and a dress I made is going to be in the showing. But there will be paintings, sculptures, maybe some weirdos doing performance art…”

“Sounds awesome. All right, it’s a date!”

“Perfect.” Said Terence, getting up from the couch and going to the door. “You just work on getting rid of that hangover. Eat when you get hungry, make yourself some coffee if you need it later.”

He had opened the apartment door to leave when he thought of something and turned back to Rodney. “Hey, before I go, one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I think guys with hair dye are super hot.”