Zack’s objective was clear: seduce the sheltered rich boy. He closed his eyes and began putting a scene together in his head: two young men in a large, well-furnished room. John was lying on a bed while Zack reclined on an air mattress on the floor. They were staring up at the ceiling as they talked, arms folded beneath their heads. John had an eye for detail, so Zack decided to add some of his own for realism.
“I think it’s cute that you still have star stickers on your ceiling,” Zack commented. “I had the same ones when I was little. The glow-in-the-dark kind.”
John laughed. “Dad put them up years ago. I can’t reach them to take them down.”
“Would you, if you could?”
John seemed to consider the question. “No. I’d leave them up there. It wouldn’t feel right without them.”
Zack smiled. “You know, this air mattress isn’t bad, but it’s nothing compared to your bed. I bet your parents sprung for thousand-thread-count sheets or something ridiculous like that.”
“It’s pretty nice,” John admitted. “They’re always buying me things I don’t need, though. They’d probably buy me friends if they could.”
“What a coincidence, I happen to be for sale. I accept cash and gold.”
John laughed, and Zack pictured him craning his neck to get a peek at the man lying on the mattress below him. Fantasy-Zack stared back unabashedly. He still had no idea what John looked like, so he cobbled together an amalgamation of the average college student: medium skin tone, medium hair color, medium height, though he did imagine that he had a nice body. This was supposed to be for Zack, after all.
“You’re staring at me, aren’t you?”
Zack started. Damn, John was psychic. “Uh, yeah, sorry about that. How’d you know?”
“I could feel your eyes on me.” John’s tone was teasing. “Thinking about something?”
“Yeah,” Zack said, letting his voice get rougher. “I am.”
“Care to share with the class?”
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Well, go on.”
Zack pretended to hesitate for a second, and then, as if he’d gathered his courage, he blurted out, “Have you ever been with a guy?”
John sucked in a breath. It sounded so involuntary, Zack almost believed it. John stammered, “W-what makes you ask that?”
In his head, Zack sat up and leaned toward John. “I don’t know. I’m curious.”
“You really think I’m gay?” John sounded flustered.
“That’s not exactly what I asked you.”
“What else could that mean?”
“Lots of things, but I’ll bite. There’s just something about you. Not to say that you’re, like, effeminate or anything. You know I wouldn’t judge you, right? If you were gay.” Avenue Q started playing in Zack’s head.
“I’m really not, though,” John protested weakly. He didn’t sound convincing at all.
Zack saw his opportunity and pounced on it. “Then why haven’t you ever dated a girl? We’ve been roommates for months now, and you’ve never even had a girl over. I’ve seen a few throw themselves at you at parties. If you’re not gay, why do you always turn them down?”