Burchester Tales 1: Wake-up Call

Welcome to the very first instalment of Burchester Tales, my new series of free fiction. I hope you'll enjoying meeting the staff and students of Burchester University, and don't forget to check out more great stories at Free Fiction Friday.

Burchester Tales: Episode 1

Wake-up Call by H. Lewis-Foster

Lee was pleased to find his bed was warmer than it had been on previous mornings. Considering it was only September, he dreaded to think how glacial his student room would be by the end of his first term. Lee tugged the duvet up to his chin and surveyed his accommodation for the next nine months.

He hadn’t thought he’d miss his tiny bedroom, the reward for being the youngest of four children, but he still wasn’t used to the dull beige walls in his hall of residence. He’d stuck a few pictures on the wall to brighten it up, but as he cast his eyes around the room, he couldn’t remember putting up the poster of England’s rugby team. While he was happy to wake to fifteen brawny men in shorts, he was rather confused by its appearance. His gaze shifted along the wall to an image of some indie band Lee had vaguely heard of. There was no way their pouting faces would be on his wall, and Lee realised with a shudder of panic that he was not in his own room.

He knew exactly what had happened. The doors which led to each student’s room from the hallway were identical. One of his flatmates had left their door unlocked, and in his apparently drunken state, Lee had ended up in the wrong bed. Lee thanked heaven the room’s rightful tenant seemed to have stayed out all night. He was about to sneak back to his room, when he heard a noise a few inches from his ear. It was the faint, but unmistakeable sound of someone breathing as they slept.

Lee turned as slowly and quietly as he could, to see a head of loose blond curls on the far side of the bed. He racked his brain to match the golden hair to a face he recognised. It didn’t belong to any of his flatmates, who were mostly dark-haired with one ginger exception, nor to any of the students on his course. For an appalling moment, he thought it might belong to a girl, so he eased back the duvet, and was relieved to see a broad pair of shoulders, which were unquestionably male.

Laying his head back on the pillow, Lee tried to recall the events which brought him here, but his mind was a vacuous blank. He remembered arriving at the Union bar, determined to have a proper drink. In his first nights as a student, he’d drunk nothing more adventurous than lemonade, wary of the hitherto unknown effects of alcohol. He’d never hung around with the lads back home, who loitered in the park drinking cider, and when he tried his father’s home brew, he’d spat out the foul concoction in disgust.

Last night, however, he’d bought a pint of beer and forced himself to drink it. He’d gulped it down, still revolted by the bitter taste, and his head had spun nauseously, as music pulsed around the room. He’d told himself not to be pathetic and ordered another pint, but as he stared at the treacle-brown liquid, he couldn’t face another drop. He’d been about to leave in miserable defeat, when someone started talking to him, but after that, the night was a gaping void. He glanced again at his sleeping companion. He could have been the person he met in the bar, but Lee honestly hadn’t a clue.

Finding himself in a stranger’s bed, Lee’s immediate instinct was to get the hell out of it. He carefully lifted the duvet to leave, at which point Lee realised he was completely and utterly naked. He tucked the duvet firmly round his middle and stared up at the ceiling in disbelief. While he was thrilled to have lost his virginity in his first week at uni, he was thoroughly pissed off that he couldn’t remember a thing about it. Then his absence of memory presented him with far more worrying implications. He swiftly searched the room for evidence of prudent precautions. Nowhere could he see a shrivelled rubber or torn foil packet, and he gloomily envisioned a trip to the campus clinic on Monday morning.

Lee groaned to himself, unable to believe how stupid he’d been; then he caught his breath when the head of blond curls suddenly turned towards him. A friendly smile beamed up at Lee from a tanned and sleepy face.

“Hi there. How are you feeling?”

“I’m—I’m fine, thanks.” There were so many questions Lee wanted to ask, but not a single one would come out of his mouth.

“I’m guessing you don’t remember much about last night.”

Lee silently shook his head.

“And I guess you’re not used to drinking, either.”

Lee shook his head again, now certain he’d embarrassed himself last night. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what humiliating situation he’d found himself in, but the beaming blond seemed determined to tell him.

“Okay. Let’s start from the beginning.” He leaned up on his elbow to face Lee. “My name’s Angus McAvenny—most people call me Gus—and I’m in my second year, doing history. We got talking at the Union bar last night, and we were getting on really well, until the moment you passed out.”

“Shit! I didn’t, did I?” This was worse than anything Lee could have imagined.

“Don’t worry about it. Worse things have happened in Freshers’ Week. I threw up over my flatmate’s laptop.” Gus grinned sheepishly. “He was not impressed. Anyway, I had no idea where you lived, so I managed to get you to your feet and brought you back here.”

“Right. Thanks.” Gus seemed like a genuinely nice person, but he was still a virtual stranger. Lee had to find out what had happened last night. “So did we … did we …?”

“Don’t panic. Nothing happened. For a start, you were incapable, and secondly, I’m—”

Fuck, thought Lee, not only had he keeled over in front of a second year, that second year was straight. Lee hardly dared listen, as Gus continued.

“—not into having sex with guys who are out for the count.” Gus chuckled. “It’s just not my thing.”

Gus sat up in bed, revealing pale pink nipples on the lightly-haired skin of his chest.

“But I guess—I guess you undressed me?”

“Not guilty, m’lud.” Gus raised his hand like a character in an old courtroom drama. “I went to the loo and when I came back, you were naked as a nudist on Brighton beach.”

Lee felt himself blush from head to toe. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Gus winked mischievously. “I don’t mind sharing my bed with a fit bloke in the buff.”

Lee’s stomach fluttered at hearing Gus call him fit, but he didn’t want to outstay his welcome. He’d already caused Gus enough trouble. “I’d better go. Thanks so much for looking out for me.”

“You don’t have to leave.” To Lee’s surprise, Gus didn’t seem eager to send Lee on his way. “Why don’t we get some breakfast at Stan’s, and we’ll see if we still get on when you’re sober.”

Gus tossed back his side of the duvet and slipped out of bed in his clinging white boxers.

“Why not?”

Lee felt around on the floor for his clothes, and fortunately found them. He had no idea where Stan’s might be, or what would be on the menu for breakfast, but he couldn’t wait to get to know Gus McAvenny again.

© H. Lewis-Foster 2014. All rights reserved.