Naked Apes (Part 1/3)
All characters are 18+
Owen had started thinking of Xander, his macho, basketball-playing roommate, like a disobedient dog. He was loveable, cute, and full of energy, but he wouldn’t listen to basic instructions and he played innocent after pissing on the carpet.
At the start of their first semester at Meridian they hit it off like old friends. Xander pushed Owen out of his comfort zone to go to parties while Owen provided Xander with some responsible reminders to do his homework. Xander flexed in sleeveless tank tops and dragged Owen to the gym while Owen drooled over his roommate’s muscles and helped Xander study for his biology tests. Xander was the hunky, straight Yin to Owen’s drooling, gay Yang.
Then little things started to get under Owen’s skin, like Xander’s habit of throwing dirty laundry on any flat surface, leaving his dishes in the sink, and playing video games without headphones late into the night. The dam finally broke after the Halloween party. It was a debauched campus-wide evening of masked antics ending with Xander fucking a cheerleader in their room and spilling Orange Crush and vodka on Owen’s laptop. Owen had avoided all the chaos by watching movies on his phone in the library until he fell asleep. By the time he got back to their room in the morning it was too late to save his computer. The keyboard was sticky and useless, which was also a good description of Xander, passed out naked on Owen’s bed with a drooling condom hanging off his cock. Seeing that was the only upside for Owen. Even soft, it reached Xander’s belly button–thick and straight like a tallboy beer can.
For a week they barely spoke. Xander, to his credit, started picking up his laundry and wearing headphones when he played video games, but his relative indifference to the loss of a laptop meant Owen never forgave him, and the air in their shared space slowly filled with burning resentment.
And that was when the aliens came.
Owen woke up when his skin started burning like he’d spent all day in the sun. Everything in the room hovered a few inches off the ground, bathed in electric blue light. The bed sheets slid away, followed by his t-shirt and boxers, tugged off his body by invisible hands. He couldn’t do anything. He was paralyzed. He lifted off the mattress like a lost balloon as the heat intensity on his skin grew hotter and hotter and a high pitch ringing echoed in his ears, building in frequency and volume until–
Silence. Blackness. Disembodiment.
Then Owen was suddenly back on a bed, on a cold uncovered mattress that wasn’t his. His joints and muscles felt stiff and slow, but he could move again, and he turned his head to look for his phone. But the phone was gone. The bedside table was gone. The blue light was gone, replaced by sterile white. The ceiling was gone, replaced by a black night with scattered stars. And his clothes were gone, replaced by nothing. Glowing white floor tiles lit the space softly from below. It was a circular room, a few hundred square feet, like a two bedroom apartment with the walls and ceiling removed. There was another bed, a table, a television, a fridge, a toilet, a sink, and a couch all arranged in completely the wrong way. And laying on the other bed was Xander, also naked.
Owen shifted his stiff body into a seated position and rolled his legs off the side of the bed. As his bare feet touched the glowing white floor, he tried to not freak out. He failed.
“What the fuck is going on?!” He yelled but his vocal chords were still numb and all that came out was a hoarse whisper.
The walls were inky black glass, which arched up and enclosed the room in a smooth dome. But beyond the glass was nothing discernible, only ghostly shapes in inky black fog.
A wheezing sound drew Owen’s attention back to Xander. His roommate was awake, sitting up and looking at Owen with wide-eye confusion. His mouth moved and not much sound came out, but Owen assumed he had asked the same question.
Then Xander’s eyes dipped down to Owen’s crotch. In a jolt of self-consciousness, Owen covered himself, but Xander was already looking away to take in their surroundings. He didn’t seem to suffer from the same bashfulness that Owen did, and he left his beer-can cock dangling freely. It was probably all the time spent in steamy showers with other naked basketball players. Sometimes Owen regretted not getting into team sports.
“Hello human entities,” a light voice cut off Owen’s thoughts and they both looked around until they spotted the small face that had appeared on the television. The screen was an old CT box from the 1970s, and the person on it looked like Mr. Rogers. He had the same salt and pepper hair, the same kind and wrinkled eyes, and the same zippered cardigan–a green one–but there was something uncanny about it as it spoke in a mimic of Mr. Roger’s voice, “Welcome to the human entity observation experience location. You are selected and chosen for participation. Congratulations on success!” The not-Mr. Rogers smiled with too many teeth and continued, “Cooperation agreement is welcome, and completion of example demonstration will be rewarded. What is reward request?”
The voice paused, waiting for an answer. Owen pushed through the waning numbness in his throat and managed to say, “Go home?”
“Home return confirmed for success example demonstration.”
Owen and Xander exchanged a look. The bigger, scary questions around who had brought them to this place and where this place was could wait. It sounded like they just had to demonstrate something and they would be taken back.
“What do you want demonstrated?” Owen asked the television.
Not-Mr. Rogers grinned again, “Demonstration is human mating function activity.”
The most uncomfortable silence Owen had ever experienced settled on the room, and then Xander cut through it with a hoarse, “What the fuck?”
When the paralysis had worn off, Xander started to circle around the edge of the room with his hands on his head, taking deep breaths to stay calm.
Owen sat on the floor closer to the television and continued asking questions. The illuminated floor tiles were soft and warm, like heated cork. He let his hands relax a bit but rested his elbows on his knees to keep his cock shielded from view, and he kept one eye on Xander.
Not-Mr. Rogers seemed eager to answer his questions, but was very insistent there had been no mistake. Owen tried to reason with the television that they were both men, but the concept of gender only confused it. Xander tried explaining human reproduction and included a thrusting demonstration, which gave Owen a twinge of pity for all the poor girls he had brought back to their room. Slowly, through Not-Mr. Rogers’ broken answers, their situation became clear.
The room was a human observation chamber, like a zoo with furniture. The insane thought Owen had tried to push to the back of his mind was proven correct: they had been abducted by aliens.
Aliens who wanted to see them fuck.
“Why don’t they understand we’re both guys?” Xander called out his frustration from the middle of his tenth lap around the room.
“Lots of creatures on Earth don’t have binary genders,” Owen replied, “So maybe they don’t understand that much about humans yet.”
Xander turned to Owen and threw his hands out, “Are you defending the alien kidnappers?”
Owen’s frustration with Xander’s whining boiled over and he jumped to his feet, “I’m trying to figure out how to get home, dumbass! I don’t like this any more than you do!”
Xander’s eyes dipped again and he looked back up at Owen with a smart-ass smirk, “Are you sure you don’t like this more than I do?”
Owen looked down. His thin cock was pointed at Xander like a naked hunk divining rod. He quickly tried to cover himself with both hands, but even though he couldn’t match Xander’s girth, Owen had a solid seven inches jutting out of his crotch and the pink head popped out from behind his wrist.
Xander rolled his eyes, “I’ve already seen it, relax. Seeing you naked is pretty low on the ‘fucked up shit I have to deal with’ list.” He laced his fingers together behind his head and continued pacing around the room.
Owen tried to ignore his burning cheeks and sat back down.
Not-Mr. Rogers’ placid face smiled with all the fake tenderness of a corporate AI chatbot, waiting for its next question. Beside the curved screen were two silver knobs for volume and switching channels. Owen twisted the channel knob from one to two and it turned with a heavy and satisfying thunk of analogue technology. Not-Mr. Rogers disappeared and was replaced by a slim twink with blonde 70s surfer hair gripping the bars of a bed frame as a muscular older man with trim black chest hair pounded him into the mattress. The twink called out, “Fuck, you’re so big!”
Owen gasped and twisted the nob from two to three, but the twink and daddy were replaced by a trio of college guys in t-shirts with their bare asses out taking turns fucking a big green watermelon in a barn. Vintage electric keyboard music blasted out of the television behind their melodramatic moans.
He kept twisting the nob, but every time the static cleared on a new channel with more vintage gay porn until he was back to Not-Mr. Rogers. “Welcome orientation guide complete. Speak questions aloud for more additional answers.”
“Was that gay porn?”
Owen jumped at Xander’s breath on the back of his ear. His roommate loomed over him from behind, hands on hips, cock dangling a few inches behind Owen’s head. He stumbled to his feet and tried to assemble a sentence explaining that he had just changed the channel and not made any selections, but then the screen of Not-Mr. Rogers switched over to sepia footage of a half-naked man standing beside the open back door of a station wagon, shirt off, jeans halfway down his ass, fucking a young hitchhiker in his back seat.
“This is Hell,” Xander muttered, “I’ve been sent to Hell.”
“It’s not Hell,” said Owen.
“Of course you don’t think it’s Hell. You’re probably loving this! You get a hot naked roommate and the only television is 24/7 gay porn. Have you checked the fridge? It’s probably stuffed with those horrible garlic pickles you love so much.”
“Or maybe it’s full of that sugary gasoline you drink.”
“It’s an electrolyte booster!”
Owen crossed his arms and tried not to think about how exposed he was. If they were going to be stuck together in this place without clothes he wasn’t going to let Xander be the only one confident enough to not cover his dick.
They both looked at the fridge and Owen’s stomach growled. It was an older style with round corners and a thick steel latch, and when Xander opened the door they found a jar of garlic pickles and a can of Xander’s energy drink. Xander picked up the can cautiously and looked at it like it might come alive, but then he cracked the tab and sniffed the liquid inside. “It smells normal,” he said, and then he took a sip. He swished the liquid around his mouth and swallowed, shrugging, “It tastes normal too.”
Owen looked at the jar of pickles, but then he had a different thought. He closed the fridge door and said aloud to no one in particular, “I want a hot triple cheese pizza.” The fridge made no indication of an answer, but when Owen opened the door again there was a steaming pizza on a round plate sitting where the pickles had been a moment before.
“Holy shit!” Owen pulled the plate out of the fridge and smelled the melted cheese.
Xander looked a little impressed as he pulled a slice off the plate. Owen did the same, and as he took his first bite he was suddenly excited by the possibilities of the fridge. If they could ask for any food they could possibly want and it would instantly appear, like a real-life Star Trek food synthesizer, maybe their captivity wouldn’t be so bad. It was the first good feeling he had had since waking up, and he couldn’t help but grin as he looked over at Xander as they shared their alien food.
Xander spoke with his mouth full, “You know I’m going to have to fuck you to get us out of here, right?”
Owen nearly choked on his pizza.
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