Timber Creek School Of Fine Arts, Wakefield, U.S.A...
Trembling pale hands held the barely visible and sweat-soaked white paper formerly crumbled and filled with a good degree of wrinkles after having been stored away in the back pocket of tight-fitting blue jeans as a young pale-looking lad sixteen years of age with unkempt dirty blond locks and inquisitive blue eyes amplified in size behind shining eyeglasses seemed to be out of sorts upon arrival to the massive school that loomed before him. He had not been much to look at being of average height and lacking any sort of physical advantage in terms of looks. He was reduced to simply being a "typical nerd" from middle school and up through high school. He'd found himself shoved into quite a few lockers and trash cans over the long four-year route to get to this point. The point in his life when his decision to attend a four-year college due to the excellent tuition program and record academics had been something to be proud of.
Timber Creek School of Fine Arts was to be the place where he could finally reinvent himself without the stresses and terrors of the past getting in his way. Thousands of miles away from the life he knew before and the people that didn't think too highly of a book-smart bloke such as himself, Porter Fulton had made plans to change his public perception and achieve the greatness he had always strived for ever since his first day at school in kindergarten.
After taking a deep breath and looking over the crumpled piece of paper once more, he found himself moving toward where he could hardly read the address of the place he was supposed to go to. When he first read the brochure he had not been aware of the influx of people applying and had neglected to mention the important aspect of his living arrangements when speaking to the Headmaster of the school having been so caught up on how cheap and far away from his hometown it had been.
The information told to him by the front desk following his registration and their subsequent seeing to his luggage being placed in his new living quarters had been that he was to make his way to bungalow 13. It had been a long way away from the main dorms, a place where the no doubt wealthy most elite of the students had been bunking for their respective terms and of course, the staff members had their ideal places for refuge after a long teaching day.
The confused new arrival sighed as he moved toward what looked to have been a large grass field and then some as he slowly made his way toward the place he'd be spending the majority of his time when not in class or prowling the small town that had been at the exit just before reaching the enormous school's vast lands. It was a long and trying walk from the main building toward where bungalow 13 had been located.
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Bungalow 13, Timber Creek School Of Fine Arts, Wakefield, U.S.A...
A walk that had been filled with silence, more confusion, and second-guessing. The lone lad adjusted his glasses when he saw his building, it wasn't as nice or as neatly kept as the main buildings or the living quarters of the more wealthy students it had all the appeal of a rundown apartment complex but it was cheap and far from his hometown in terms of his desire to reinvent himself. Taking a moment to get his bearings, the confused new arrival made his way inside noting the graffiti on the door and the broken windows and dim lighting in the entrance hall.
There were claw marks along a few walls and the place smelled of sweat, urine, and old gym socks. With a wrinkling of his nose and a determination to find his room as quickly as possible, the new arrival moved through the dimly lit halls toward the location of his would-be room although he held out no hope that it would look any better than the main entrance hall.
Much to his surprise, once the clueless lad made his way toward the large heavy brown door that had been the entrance to his room according to the paperwork, he found himself opening it and walking into what could have been a luxury two-bedroom apartment if he'd been back home. It had everything a young lad in college could have ever wanted times two despite not looking like much initially, from vending machines, to a good-looking kitchen, impeccable furniture all black leather of course a few lazy boys an enormous wall-mounted television that has the impression that it could have been a home theater, a massive master bedroom and a smaller, but still nice looking bedroom with one bathroom inside their chosen bungalow like that of an apartment.
He had been shocked, to say the least up until he noted the scattered articles of clothing that littered the hardwood floor, they seemed to belong to a man and possibly three young women as he moved about trying to come to his senses after the discovery of how cozy and luxurious the infamous bungalow 13 had been. When he had first arrived the receptionist had made him believe it was the most horrible place to be housed on campus, now he had suspected that it was intentional to keep everyone else away that didn't have it listed as their housing location.
The confused lad had been grateful even to the central air conditioning that prickled his sweat-slick skin following his long walk toward his living quarters from the main building. He stepped inside and closed and locked the door making up his mind to find where they had taken his stuff since he'd been more comfortable with the idea of bunking in this place.
He found that he'd been the one set up in the smaller room but was pleased to be there nonetheless as he attempted to get started putting up his things and making himself more comfortable. He shook his head thinking he'd been in for a rather miserable time during his walk and second-guessing his choice to come to this place when all of a sudden something large and powerful rushed him and pinned him against a nearby wall, a snarl accompanied a powerful grip onto his neck as the bright blue eyes of a larger rugged-looking young man with a well-managed goatee and rippling muscles stood towering above the confused lad who's glasses had fallen off in the wake of the commotion.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" growled the blue-eyed older lad narrowing his gaze at the apparent intruder.
Terrified the confused lad opened his mouth to speak and stammered his reason for being in this place, once more second-guessing his decision to come here.
"M-My name's P-P-Porter Fulton...this is where they assigned me for the school term...I-I just got here," he said shaking.
The hulking brute snarled once more and seemed to sniff him as he glared in relative silence for several moments before tilting his head in the way Porter had seen his mother's Yorkie do on occasion and finally letting him go. The lad known as Porter Fulton slowly sank to the ground with his back against the wall where he'd been unceremoniously slammed after the brute rushed him.
It was when he looked up at him for the first time since hitting the ground that Porter took note of just whom had been the one holding him against the wall. He'd been a tall drink of water, with slightly tanned skin taunt and young with shoulder-length dark brown locks that dangled past his ears with commanding icy blue eyes. He was perfect skin was glistening from what appeared to have been a shower before barging into the front room and manhandling the new arrival.
Porter gasped before covering his mouth when he took note that the larger brute had been completely naked before him, the crisp white towel that was once wrapped around his waist had fallen to the hardwood floor in the wake of the rushed attack and he was unable to tear his gaze away from the large thick cock that jutted out past the larger brute's well-muscled thighs as he stood before him as if he had not a care in the world, of course, he didn't need to have one given the way he looked. It was clear from the sight of this brute that he had no trouble when it came to getting the attention of anyone let alone the opposite sex.
"Geez you're huge," remarked Porter unable to take his eyes off the well-muscled brute that had slammed him into the wall. His face turned beet red once he realized he'd said this out loud but the older boy didn't seem at all phased by it.
The brute didn't seem in much of a hurry to pick up the towel either as he moved across the room and toward the kitchen where he took a moment to fish out a silvery can of ice-cold beer before popping the top and turning it up. He turned his attention to fishing another can out of the fridge before making his way back toward the still-downed and confused Porter.
"Sorry 'bout that laddy." said the hulking brute. "I tend to get rather territorial now and again with those I don't know, you must be the new roomie they said was comin' by."
Porter nodded as he slowly got to his feet still staring in disbelief at the naked brute before him. Said brute continued to drink his can of beer while tossing one toward him as a means of apology for the misunderstanding from before.
"Since you're new blood and all, I'll cut ya some slack a time or two but in the future do let me know when you're gonna be home, as I'm doing a bit of entertainin' and I don't want the lovely lasses to get the wrong idea with you rummagin' about and all that."
Porter nodded in silence still in shock from the incident and the fact that his new roommate seemed to be so casual about his nakedness. Again he had nothing to be ashamed of in terms of his impressive looks and impeccable physique but he was still a strange one to know it seemed. Porter also noted his Irish accent and the fact that he seemed at peace being so far from home which he had not even mastered despite wishing to leave his hometown behind most of all.
"I'm Conri by the way." said the brute turning up his beer once more. "Conri Rollins if you'd be so inclined, but everybody here calls me "Conway".
Porter seemed to snap out of his trance of confusion in the wake of exercising the manners he'd been taught at a young age.
"It was rather interesting meeting you, Conway," he said making a mental note that Conri preferred to be addressed as Conway rather quickly.
The brute known as Conway smirked before turning up his beer once more.
"Well, I'll leave you to it then, of course you know the old sayin' given my company and all that, if you hear the bed a-rockin' don't come a-knockin'," he said before turning and walking toward the other side of the large establishment and the black heavy door that led to his master bedroom.
Porter let out a breath that he had not known he'd been holding as he looked down at the cold silver can the brute Conway had tossed to him. He wasn't much for indulging in beer but as of that moment, he popped the top and turned up the can. It seemed to be the first step down his long road of reinvention of himself even with the rancid aftertaste.
He turned his attention toward setting himself up in his own room, finally understanding why there had been clothes littering the floor after Conway had told him about his brand of "company" that he'd been keeping.
It was only the first day and already things were turning out to be quite a strange turn of events. At the very least he had known who he'd been sharing his living quarters with. Even if he'd been a massive hulking naked brute prone to chasing multiple skirts like nobody's business.