Free Dead Man on the Moon by Steven Harper

bedroom," Jake yawned. "I'm waiting for him to finish. It's been a while, though."
    Noah checked his watch. Quarter to one. "What do you mean 'using the bedroom'?"
    "You know. He's . . . entertaining."
    Noah eyed the door. Faint rhythmic sounds emanated from it. "How long has he been in there?"
    "Two hours, give or take."
    Two hours? Noah felt his jaw drop in disbelief. "Does he do that a lot?"
    "Enough."
    "Jesus, it's almost one o'clock. It's not fair for him to tie up the bedroom like that." Without inviting his roommates, a treacherous part of his mind added.
    "Yeah, well, Wade usually gets what he wants around here."
    Noah closed his eyes. He did not need this. Right now, he just wanted to lose consciousness on something relatively soft and unmoving. Roommate conflicts he didn't need. And who the hell did anything for two hours, anyway?
    Options flickered across Noah's fatigued mind. A lifetime of being the middle child among seven had taught him that some people were simply selfish and would take advantage of anyone who let them, and Noah had long ago stopped letting them. So sitting in the living room with Jake wasn't a possibility. On the other hand, it was entirely possible Wade thought no one minded his bedroom monopoly be- cause no one had challenged it. So just barging in wasn't really fair. A glance at Jake, who had clearly sat on the sofa for two hours doing nothing, told Noah not to expect any help there. He finally stepped up to the door and rapped sharply on it. His knuckles stung.
    "Hey, Wade," he called. "Ten minutes, and then we're coming in."
    No response from the bedroom. The noises continued. Shadows flickered across the line of light. Noah leaned against the wall with his eye on the clock. Jake sat on the couch, watching with a sort of horrified interest. Five minutes passed and Noah rapped on the door again.
    "Five minutes, guy."
    Still no response. When the allotted time had passed, Noah took a breath and shoved the door open.
    The bedroom was atangle with naked arms and legs. Several sets of clothes lay strewn across the floor. It took Noah a moment to sort out that Wade had three guests—two female and one male. All of them were piled on one bed. Wade, his pale, naked torso streaming with sweat, sat up from under a pile of people and swore. The two female guests cried out and dove for the clothing. The male rolled onto the floor with a soft thump. Breasts and buttocks bounced slowly in the low gravity.
    "What the fuck are you—?" Wade snarled.
    "I gave you two warnings," Noah said. "Find someplace else to party."
    The male, who had curly brown hair, a mustache, and small green eyes, sat on the floor with his folded his arms across his chest and said, "You can't just stomp in here, asshole. You can't just—"
    Thirty seconds later, he and the two women were standing in a pile of clothes in the sunlit hallway. Noah slammed the door on them and turned to face an outraged Wade, who had yanked on a pair of shorts. The remnants of his erection made a ridiculous-looking tent pole in the loose fabric.
    "You fucking asshole!" Wade screamed. He drew back a fist. "I'm gonna—"
    Noah didn't even think. He grabbed Wade's wrist, spun him around, and shoved him face-first into the wall with his arms twisted behind him. Wade's skin was hot and sweaty, and Noah's own skin crawled at the contact. He was vaguely aware of Jake staring at him in the background.
    "That's assault on an officer," Noah murmured quietly in Wade's ear.
    "You ain't a fucking cop," Wade hissed.
    "Deputized just this afternoon," Noah said. He tightened his grip. "Let me tell you what's going to happen. I'm going to forget you attacked me and let you go. No charges will be pressed. You're going to take some deep breaths and calm down. If you have a problem with me wanting to get a good eight hours' sleep every night, then you can go down to housing tomorrow morning and ask for a transfer. Clear?"
    There was a long pause. Noah waited, his grip