.(When D--- had entered his room mate's room...)The slapping sounds that sounded like fists landing, were faked by each dude as the one woke the other... But, first, here is what happened in that darkened room.D--- quietly closed the door behind himself, eyes not even adjusting to the blackness of the room. He knew where the sparse furnishings all were, here a dresser, there a bedside table, a few steps farther the bed. On the near end of the bed would be a pillow or two, and on the pillows would be his roomy's head. His room mate preferred to sleep nude, and always had, he also kept a fan blowing on him on low at night, the fan was humming softly now. There would likely be a thin sheet covering whatever it still covered of his friend's sleeping body. That would soon change. He tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor by the bed.He reached down in the dark and his fingers touched the light stubble of his friend's jaw. Softly they walked up the planes of his face, to. If you ever cross it again, you’re dead. Understand?’ Sore but unafraid Dick answered respectfully, ‘Yes sir. Could you show me exactly where the line is so I’m not responsible for my own death?’ ‘Sure kid,’ said the burly and balding super grinned, drawing a line in the dust with his rubber baton. Dick crossed the line and they both stepped closer and looked down at the symbolic mark. The superintendent grinned evilly. ‘Make my day and step over the line punk.’ ‘If I swing one leg over that line I’m a goner?’ ‘Yep.’ Dick was in gray fatigues and heavy work boots, swung a leg powerfully, aimed directly at the bully’s groin. The super screamed and bit the dust. Later he’d be on an operating theatre table having a pulverized testicle removed and no doubt thinking he’d murder the punk when he tracked him down. Celebrating the biggest kick so far in his young life, Dick had turned away from his fallen and groaning persecutor and clutched his nuts protectively for no reason known to him,.
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