Bartholomew knew he shouldn’t have gone to the party.
But no, he had promised his roommate Nick he would go with him.
Nick had a knack for hare-brained schemes and impulsive choices. He was a sweet guy, and never meant harm, but he rarely thought through consequences— and, annoyingly, rarely suffered them. He led a charmed life. He was cute, just athletic enough to be aesthetically pleasing without being bulky, just smart enough to maintain a solid B average without working too hard. He was chatty and friendly and got along with everyone. He’d have a beer with you, or a hit of your joint, but never really got stupid high or drunk — he seemed to produce an abundance of home grown good vibes and chill.
Consequently, he walked around with a sort of innocent charm that he had no clue about. He was genuinely interested in everything, and was game for all of it if it meant doing something with a friend, but never to extremes. And by the end of freshman year, Nick had innocently fucked his way through about a third of the undergraduate population — without, somehow, leaving a trail of broken hearts and jilted lovers in his wake.
So, a bit of a fuck boy, but one you just couldn’t be mad at. He was just too much fun to be around, and his carefree and sweet nature meant he stayed on friendly terms with pretty much all his exes. He and Bartholomew, however, had never hooked up, despite being fast friends and roommates.
Bartholomew had arrived as uptight and in denial as any freshman, and suffered from anxiety, particularly about physical contact — which had left him with a big fat zero for a love life. But he pushed himself as much as he dared to break out of his shell, and he was good about his meds, and things got better. Maybe something about Nick’s influence started to rub off on him, or maybe it was just that Nick was the social lubricant he needed to feel comfortable meeting new people. He was still pretty shy, but he’d made real progress. He’d also begun to figure out, as he watched Nick go home with boys and girls and men and women, that he was probably at least bi-curious. And when he haltingly revealed that to Nick, he’d gotten a big warm hug and nothing but support. It was not even a shock that when he asked Nick to take him to the LGBTQ+ group meeting, they all knew Nick.
Bartholomew had gone home for the summer but he and Nick planned to room together the next year too. At home, Bartholomew had some difficult conversations — and a much more strained relationship with his family and his brothers in particular. It wasn’t mean, just uncomfortable, and his brothers just didn’t get it at all. His folks chalked it up to being a phase and his therapist was thrilled at his progress, but in the end, it was a bit of a meaningless coming out without having dated boys or girls at all. He’d been glad to return to college.
The first few weeks had been fine — classes were fine, and people had mostly not noticed him unless they already knew him, or he was with Nick (who seemed to know everyone). Physically, he had barely changed since freshman weekend — sandy hair, average height and weight, average build. But Nick, of course, had somehow gained a bit of muscle which only made him cuter. The new dorm had a bit more privacy — they shared a bathroom and a small living area— and Nick tended to wind up in other beds as often as not. And then suddenly, he seemed to pick up on Nick feeling left out, and made a point to stay home a few nights to hang with his bro. They’d agreed that they’d hang at least one night a week, but Nick also prodded him to go out and do something at least one night a week, too.
So when Halloween party season started, of course Nick wanted to hit one or two of them, and Nick was just swept along in the momentum.
The last thing Bartholomew remembered from that night was drinking the punch at a frat house mixer.
Which is why, when he woke up to a very loud noise, he grabbed his large floppy ears and pulled them closed, and rolled over into a ball.
Wait, what large floppy ears?
He sat up suddenly, and his nausea decided to really kick in. He stumbled for the bathroom and barely got into position before he barfed his brains out. When he was sure the demon had left his guts, he pulled himself to the sink and up to the mirror.
And there, atop his head, were two long white rabbit ears.
He squealed in shock and sank down to the floor.
“Bro, you okay?” That was Nick’s voice outside the bathroom door.
“Not really,” Bartholomew replied.
“Are you naked or something?”
“No!”
“Okay, man, coming in…”
Bartholomew didn’t know what to say or do — he just sat there on the commode, staring blankly at his big white bunny ears, which had begun to mirror his expression.
“What the actual fuck,” Nick said, unconsciously reaching out to touch the new appendages.
“Don’t!”
“Sorry man, I couldn’t help it. They’re ….real, aren’t they?”
“How the heck should I know?”
“Dude, they’re your ears. Wait, where are your regular ears?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Bartholomew’s eyes darted wildly in sheer panic.
“Whoa, dude, focus and breathe man, it’s all good!” Nick said. This wouldn’t be the first time he had talked Bartholomew down from a spike. “Name three things you can see…”
*****
A few minutes later, he was at least breathing easier. But he was torn between looking anywhere BUT the mirror, and looking AT the mirror. Nick picked up on that and leaned against the sink to block his view.
“Okay. Let’s think logically.”
“I would LOVE to know what logic could possibly explain this. Go on, try!”
“Hey man, I’m just trying to help. Gotta break it down, right? So, it’s either magic or mad science, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Bartholomew said, deadpan.
“So… did you drink anything? Or, hey, were there any pet rabbits at the party?”
“I don’t remember anything after we got there and I had a glass of punch.”
“The big bowl of that orange sherbet ginger ale stuff?”
“Pretty sure there was a gallon of vodka in it, but yeah.”
“Well, I had that too, and no bunny ears,” Nick said. “But I’m guessing you had a lot ,ore of it than I did. You hit the booze pretty hard from what I remember but it was a really good party.”
“Did I have these last night?”
“Not that I remember. Keith said you walked home early. That was around 1am.”
“Keith?”
“Goth guy? Tall, dark hair, eye makeup?”
“I think I do remember talking to him,” Bartholomew said. And then realization dawned. He’d made out with that guy!
“Ah, now you remember! You and he were getting kind of steamy and went upstairs. I was like, finally! And then later, Keith said you went home. When I got in around 330, your door was open and you were buried under the covers.”
“I barely remember that. Maybe he knows something?”
“Did you get his number?”
“I barely got his name,” He replied.
“Well,” Nick said, “I’m sure someone will have it, I’ll ask around.”
“Nick, what the heck am I supposed to do?”
“Hmm. They’re kind of cute, you know. Weird, but kind of adorable.”
“Nick!”
“I’m thinking! I mean, either you skip class today, or you go in. But we both have Gardner for western civ, and he always asks for a note from the health center to excuse the absence. You could go to the health center, but I don’t think they can help beyond the note. You can try to hide them or make them part of a costume or something. Like those weeb hats?”
“Oh god my life is over.”
“Nah, man. We’ll figure something out. Go ahead and shower and I’ll see what I can come up with while I make coffee.”
Nodding blankly, Bartholomew began to strip and turned on the shower…only belatedly realizing that Nick was still in the room.
“You…you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m not. But I’m also gross and I do need to shower.”
*****
There may have been some aggressive scrubbing elsewhere, but Bartholomew was very careful about washing his hair, and gingerly touched his ears after some soul searching.
They felt nice, actually. And before he realized he was doing it, he found himself gently massaging the soft fur with shampoo. It was calming, somehow.
He toweled off, drying carefully, and discovered quite by accident that he actually had a pretty good range of motion. They swiveled and bent as needed with no real thought or effort, but actively controlling them required a bit of a mental leap.
He also realized they were far more sensitive than his original ears — he could hear pretty much every noise in the house with remarkable accuracy, and even though the bathroom fan seemed inordinately loud, he could still hear Nick working in the kitchen. He turned off the fan and wrapped the towel around his waist, and darted into his room to pull on some clothes.
And then he joined Nick at the counter, pouring a bowl of cereal and an accepting the steaming cup of black coffee Nick handed him.
“Feeling a little better?”
“A little.”
“Here, try this on,” Nick said, tossing his bro a large light grey knit beanie. “I think your ears might fit in it.”
Bartholomew considered his options, and reluctantly tried it on.
“Feels weird,” he said.
“Looks okay, though. It doesn’t hurt your ears or muffle your hearing does it?”
“No, actually. This might work. For now at least.”
“Good, bro, that’s awesome. Now let’s finish up and head over to class.”
But no, he had promised his roommate Nick he would go with him.
Nick had a knack for hare-brained schemes and impulsive choices. He was a sweet guy, and never meant harm, but he rarely thought through consequences— and, annoyingly, rarely suffered them. He led a charmed life. He was cute, just athletic enough to be aesthetically pleasing without being bulky, just smart enough to maintain a solid B average without working too hard. He was chatty and friendly and got along with everyone. He’d have a beer with you, or a hit of your joint, but never really got stupid high or drunk — he seemed to produce an abundance of home grown good vibes and chill.
Consequently, he walked around with a sort of innocent charm that he had no clue about. He was genuinely interested in everything, and was game for all of it if it meant doing something with a friend, but never to extremes. And by the end of freshman year, Nick had innocently fucked his way through about a third of the undergraduate population — without, somehow, leaving a trail of broken hearts and jilted lovers in his wake.
So, a bit of a fuck boy, but one you just couldn’t be mad at. He was just too much fun to be around, and his carefree and sweet nature meant he stayed on friendly terms with pretty much all his exes. He and Bartholomew, however, had never hooked up, despite being fast friends and roommates.
Bartholomew had arrived as uptight and in denial as any freshman, and suffered from anxiety, particularly about physical contact — which had left him with a big fat zero for a love life. But he pushed himself as much as he dared to break out of his shell, and he was good about his meds, and things got better. Maybe something about Nick’s influence started to rub off on him, or maybe it was just that Nick was the social lubricant he needed to feel comfortable meeting new people. He was still pretty shy, but he’d made real progress. He’d also begun to figure out, as he watched Nick go home with boys and girls and men and women, that he was probably at least bi-curious. And when he haltingly revealed that to Nick, he’d gotten a big warm hug and nothing but support. It was not even a shock that when he asked Nick to take him to the LGBTQ+ group meeting, they all knew Nick.
Bartholomew had gone home for the summer but he and Nick planned to room together the next year too. At home, Bartholomew had some difficult conversations — and a much more strained relationship with his family and his brothers in particular. It wasn’t mean, just uncomfortable, and his brothers just didn’t get it at all. His folks chalked it up to being a phase and his therapist was thrilled at his progress, but in the end, it was a bit of a meaningless coming out without having dated boys or girls at all. He’d been glad to return to college.
The first few weeks had been fine — classes were fine, and people had mostly not noticed him unless they already knew him, or he was with Nick (who seemed to know everyone). Physically, he had barely changed since freshman weekend — sandy hair, average height and weight, average build. But Nick, of course, had somehow gained a bit of muscle which only made him cuter. The new dorm had a bit more privacy — they shared a bathroom and a small living area— and Nick tended to wind up in other beds as often as not. And then suddenly, he seemed to pick up on Nick feeling left out, and made a point to stay home a few nights to hang with his bro. They’d agreed that they’d hang at least one night a week, but Nick also prodded him to go out and do something at least one night a week, too.
So when Halloween party season started, of course Nick wanted to hit one or two of them, and Nick was just swept along in the momentum.
The last thing Bartholomew remembered from that night was drinking the punch at a frat house mixer.
Which is why, when he woke up to a very loud noise, he grabbed his large floppy ears and pulled them closed, and rolled over into a ball.
Wait, what large floppy ears?
He sat up suddenly, and his nausea decided to really kick in. He stumbled for the bathroom and barely got into position before he barfed his brains out. When he was sure the demon had left his guts, he pulled himself to the sink and up to the mirror.
And there, atop his head, were two long white rabbit ears.
He squealed in shock and sank down to the floor.
“Bro, you okay?” That was Nick’s voice outside the bathroom door.
“Not really,” Bartholomew replied.
“Are you naked or something?”
“No!”
“Okay, man, coming in…”
Bartholomew didn’t know what to say or do — he just sat there on the commode, staring blankly at his big white bunny ears, which had begun to mirror his expression.
“What the actual fuck,” Nick said, unconsciously reaching out to touch the new appendages.
“Don’t!”
“Sorry man, I couldn’t help it. They’re ….real, aren’t they?”
“How the heck should I know?”
“Dude, they’re your ears. Wait, where are your regular ears?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Bartholomew’s eyes darted wildly in sheer panic.
“Whoa, dude, focus and breathe man, it’s all good!” Nick said. This wouldn’t be the first time he had talked Bartholomew down from a spike. “Name three things you can see…”
*****
A few minutes later, he was at least breathing easier. But he was torn between looking anywhere BUT the mirror, and looking AT the mirror. Nick picked up on that and leaned against the sink to block his view.
“Okay. Let’s think logically.”
“I would LOVE to know what logic could possibly explain this. Go on, try!”
“Hey man, I’m just trying to help. Gotta break it down, right? So, it’s either magic or mad science, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Bartholomew said, deadpan.
“So… did you drink anything? Or, hey, were there any pet rabbits at the party?”
“I don’t remember anything after we got there and I had a glass of punch.”
“The big bowl of that orange sherbet ginger ale stuff?”
“Pretty sure there was a gallon of vodka in it, but yeah.”
“Well, I had that too, and no bunny ears,” Nick said. “But I’m guessing you had a lot ,ore of it than I did. You hit the booze pretty hard from what I remember but it was a really good party.”
“Did I have these last night?”
“Not that I remember. Keith said you walked home early. That was around 1am.”
“Keith?”
“Goth guy? Tall, dark hair, eye makeup?”
“I think I do remember talking to him,” Bartholomew said. And then realization dawned. He’d made out with that guy!
“Ah, now you remember! You and he were getting kind of steamy and went upstairs. I was like, finally! And then later, Keith said you went home. When I got in around 330, your door was open and you were buried under the covers.”
“I barely remember that. Maybe he knows something?”
“Did you get his number?”
“I barely got his name,” He replied.
“Well,” Nick said, “I’m sure someone will have it, I’ll ask around.”
“Nick, what the heck am I supposed to do?”
“Hmm. They’re kind of cute, you know. Weird, but kind of adorable.”
“Nick!”
“I’m thinking! I mean, either you skip class today, or you go in. But we both have Gardner for western civ, and he always asks for a note from the health center to excuse the absence. You could go to the health center, but I don’t think they can help beyond the note. You can try to hide them or make them part of a costume or something. Like those weeb hats?”
“Oh god my life is over.”
“Nah, man. We’ll figure something out. Go ahead and shower and I’ll see what I can come up with while I make coffee.”
Nodding blankly, Bartholomew began to strip and turned on the shower…only belatedly realizing that Nick was still in the room.
“You…you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m not. But I’m also gross and I do need to shower.”
*****
There may have been some aggressive scrubbing elsewhere, but Bartholomew was very careful about washing his hair, and gingerly touched his ears after some soul searching.
They felt nice, actually. And before he realized he was doing it, he found himself gently massaging the soft fur with shampoo. It was calming, somehow.
He toweled off, drying carefully, and discovered quite by accident that he actually had a pretty good range of motion. They swiveled and bent as needed with no real thought or effort, but actively controlling them required a bit of a mental leap.
He also realized they were far more sensitive than his original ears — he could hear pretty much every noise in the house with remarkable accuracy, and even though the bathroom fan seemed inordinately loud, he could still hear Nick working in the kitchen. He turned off the fan and wrapped the towel around his waist, and darted into his room to pull on some clothes.
And then he joined Nick at the counter, pouring a bowl of cereal and an accepting the steaming cup of black coffee Nick handed him.
“Feeling a little better?”
“A little.”
“Here, try this on,” Nick said, tossing his bro a large light grey knit beanie. “I think your ears might fit in it.”
Bartholomew considered his options, and reluctantly tried it on.
“Feels weird,” he said.
“Looks okay, though. It doesn’t hurt your ears or muffle your hearing does it?”
“No, actually. This might work. For now at least.”
“Good, bro, that’s awesome. Now let’s finish up and head over to class.”
