STRESS RELIEF

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New falls onto his back, panting heavily. A contented smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He glances to his side at Tay. His friend looks just as wrecked as himself. His skin is flushed with sweat and the locks on his head create a likeness to a shabbily built bird's nest.

New reaches out to tame the strands a little. "We should clean up and change the sheets. I don't wanna fall asleep in this mess." He decides as he starts to rise.

"Your cum."

"Our cum. Wait, is it our cums?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe it's one of those sophisticated plurals that end with an i. Like alumnus, alumni. I feel cum is a sophisticated enough word to end with i. Our ci?" He nods to himself. "Certainly has a nice ring to it."

Tay is laughing. His left arm covers his eyes as his whole body continues to shake.

You know that moment when you say something you don't think is remotely funny. But it makes your favorite person laugh so it automatically becomes side-splitting to you too? That's what happens next.

******************

New met Tay three years ago through a senior in his department, Arm. Due to late his admission, the dorms on campus were fully occupied. Tay, who lived in an apartment close to campus coincidentally had just lost his roommate and was looking for someone to cover half of the bill. It was perfect timing.

His first impression of Tay was a stuck-up douchebag. His clothes were crisply ironed and his shirt was tucked into tailored pants like a model student. He looked like he reminded the professor to give out tests and asked for assignments for the weekend.

It took less than 20 minutes into moving in to change his perception.

The man is as clumsy as a toddler. He breaks everything he touches. Trips on anything including his foot. Loses his glasses 3 out of 7 times a week. And burns everything he cooks. He has the rhythm of an 80-year-old white woman and apologizes to inanimate things.

New quickly found a liking to the goofball. It also helped that he was super smart and was a senior in the engineering department. He helped him with his assignments, tutored him before tests and presentations, and was freakishly good at predicting test questions.

He was the perfect roommate.

Their 'sexcapades' as New eloquently calls it started in an unanticipated manner.

The two men were perched at the small dining table in their apartment, studying for the dreaded finals. New was overwhelmed with nerves and it manifested in the form of tapping his fingers repetitively on the wooden table.

"Stop that, it's distracting," Tay complained.

New stopped but picked up the tapping after a second. "Sorry, I can't help it. My finger is doing this on its own."

Tay ran a pen under New's forefinger to stop the noise. "It's just a test. Relax."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. 3.8 GPA." He picked up the pen and doodled across the confusing formulas on his notepad.

Tay cleared his throat. "3.9 GPA."

New rolled his eyes. "Same thing."

"You're putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. Go hang out with your friends. That tiny one, grenade or something."

"It's Gun! Stupido." New threw the pen at Tay who dodged skillfully.

"My bad. You seem to have fun when you hang out with him. Call him. He should help."

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