Spencer Larson stood just inside the doorway of the basement party, the thrum of bass vibrating under his feet. Multicolored LED lights, strung haphazardly from the low ceiling, cast a kaleidoscope of shifting shadows over the room. The air smelled of cheap beer, fruity vodka, cologne, and the subtle tang of sweat, all mixing into a scent that somehow felt like both rebellion and liberation.
He was glad he’d decided to come.
A sophomore at a college two cities away from his hometown, Spencer had spent the summer reflecting. He'd spent the last two years deflecting the men who tried to flirt with him, brushing off his own desires as fleeting, something that would pass. But this year, with his own room and no roommate to dodge, Spencer had promised himself he wouldn’t hide anymore. No more pretending. No more holding back.
He was done waiting for the "right" moment. He was here to try.
And across the room, he saw someone else trying too.
David Rodriguez stood near the corner of the party, nursing a red Solo cup. The cool burn of vodka tickled the back of his throat, a bit too much for his liking, but it helped him relax. He didn’t want to get drunk; he didn’t want to end up like the stories he’d heard, waking up in a place he couldn’t remember, doing things he couldn’t recall. But still, the feeling of freedom that the alcohol brought was undeniable.
A freshman, David had spent all summer not just earning his scholarship but working up the courage to step into this new chapter of his life. A new school. A new city. A new version of himself. But even here, in this fresh start, there were remnants of his past, the fear of being caught, of being labeled. He’d seen the way people treated those who didn’t hide. How the boy from high school, who’d been outed, became a pariah, ostracized and turned into a shadow of his former self. David had vowed to never be that.
But tonight? Tonight he was here, trying to breathe, trying to blend in, trying to be someone who didn’t pretend. Trying not to look too eager, too desperate.
And then he saw Spencer.
Spencer was about six feet tall, lean with a swimmer’s build, and he stood with the kind of confidence that wasn’t overt, but quietly magnetic. David watched as Spencer took a Coke from the cooler and scanned the crowd, his eyes moving over faces before landing directly on David.
Their eyes locked.
David instinctively lifted his cup to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip. When he lowered the cup, Spencer was still watching him, and now, he was smiling.
David’s heart rate picked up, a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves. He bit his upper lip, trying to contain the grin that wanted to break free.
Spencer felt his breath catch, and he couldn’t stop staring. That face with those wide brown eyes, that slightly tousled black hair, the soft curve of his lips. There was something about David, something boyish and vulnerable, but also undeniably confident. Spencer’s chest warmed, and lower... that heat spread faster than he’d expected.
He took a step toward him without thinking, letting the music pull him forward.
“Hey,” David said, his voice louder than he’d meant it to be over the bass. “I’m David.”
Spencer leaned in close, his lips brushing David’s ear as he whispered, “I’m Spencer. You’re cute. Wanna fuck?”
The words slipped out before Spencer could even think twice. He’d imagined this moment, practiced his lines, but never expected to be so bold, so forward. He’d prepared himself for rejection, for awkwardness.
But then David’s slow smile spread, and Spencer saw the shift in his eyes, darkening, a subtle promise, a knowing grin.
David didn’t hesitate. He didn’t pull away, didn’t look shocked. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his lips barely grazing Spencer’s skin as he whispered back, “I thought you’d never ask.”
It was a simple exchange, but the energy between them shifted. There was no rush, no frantic urgency. They lingered there for a moment, their eyes meeting and holding. They finished their drinks slowly, exchanged a few more words, casual and light, words they’d forget the moment they stepped out into the cool night air.
The walk to Spencer’s dorm was quiet but charged, a strange electricity filling the space between them. Their shoulders brushed occasionally, each touch a spark, a promise.
At the door to Spencer’s room, he fumbled with the keycard, his fingers slightly trembling. The silence between them was thick, heavy with anticipation, and David, though buzzing from the vodka, was surprisingly calm. His heart thudded in his chest, but he was grounded in the moment.
Inside, the room was small but comfortable. A twin bed with soft gray sheets, a few scattered books on the shelf, and a desk lamp that cast a soft amber glow across the room. The door clicked shut behind them, the sound somehow final, like a door closing on everything else outside.
Spencer turned to face David, his pulse racing now that they were here. Without a word, he pushed David gently back against the door, and their lips collided.
The kiss was slow at first, tentative almost, as if they were both testing the waters, unsure where it would lead. Spencer’s hand slid up to David’s neck, pulling him closer, his lips moving with more intensity, more hunger. David responded in kind, his own hands trembling as they traced over Spencer’s chest, down his stomach, feeling the smooth skin, the taut muscles beneath his shirt.
David’s arousal pressed against Spencer’s thigh, and Spencer groaned softly into his mouth. The heat between them intensified, but neither of them rushed. There was no need to. They were both savoring this moment, this slow build, each kiss deepening the connection, each touch heightening the tension.
David’s breathing hitched as he kissed down Spencer’s neck, his hand sliding lower, brushing against Spencer’s jeans. He could feel the hardness there, and the realization made his breath quicken.
“Finger me,” David panted, the words coming out before he could stop them. His body was alive, electric, his pulse thumping in his ears.
Spencer didn’t need to be asked twice. He unzipped David’s jeans, gently guiding him toward the bed. David stumbled slightly, half-laughing, half-breathless, and fell face-down on the mattress. Spencer quickly removed his shoes and then David’s jeans, tossing them aside. David wasn’t wearing underwear, Spencer couldn’t help but groan aloud.
The sight of him, bare and vulnerable, drove Spencer wild.
He climbed onto the bed, his knees between David’s legs. Slowly, he spread David’s cheeks, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the sensitive skin there. He spit once, then coated his fingers, circling David’s entrance gently. David moaned softly, arching his back as he pushed back against Spencer’s touch.
Spencer’s own arousal throbbed, his cock aching for release, but he held off, determined to take his time. He wanted to savor this, to prolong the moment.
David’s body responded, his legs shifting apart to give Spencer more room, to invite him deeper. The tension built, slowly, agonizingly.
Spencer reached up to the shelf where he’d stashed a condom, rolling it on quickly, slicking himself with lube. He positioned himself carefully, his cock brushing David’s entrance, testing the waters, teasing just the tip inside.
David gasped, his body trembling. So much anticipation, he thought. It’s almost too much.
Spencer pushed forward, slowly, deliberately, feeling the resistance, the tightness, the heat surrounding him. His own body burned, his chest heaving with each slow thrust, every inch of David driving him closer to madness.
“Oh fuck,” Spencer whispered, barely able to contain himself.
He kept the rhythm slow, purposeful, wanting to make this last. David’s moans grew louder, more desperate, each one driving Spencer further.
“Turn me over,” David gasped. “I want to see your face.”
Spencer pulled back, helping David roll onto his back. David spread his legs, his knees drawn up, his body exposed to Spencer completely. This time, Spencer drove in harder, his hips slamming into David’s, each thrust deep, urgent. But even now, he held back, not allowing himself to come just yet, prolonging the ache, the burn.
David’s breath came in quick bursts, his body tensing with each movement. He could feel the pressure building in his core, but he held on, wanting to delay his release, wanting to savor this moment just a little longer.
Their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. Spencer kissed David, and David responded, licking his jaw, his lips, his neck.
The world outside disappeared as Spencer’s body shuddered with release. He came hard, every muscle in his body tightening as he spilled into the condom. The sensation triggered David, and with a final cry, he came too, his body arching off the bed, shuddering with the force of it.
Both of them collapsed, breathless, their bodies still connected, trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.
Spencer eased out, slipping off the condom and tossing it in the trash. He lay back on the bed, his body still buzzing, the cool air of the room calming his fevered skin.
David rolled toward him, his hand finding Spencer’s chest. “That was... better than I imagined,” he whispered.
Spencer grinned, reaching up to brush a curl from David’s forehead. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m gonna take a quick shower. Then I want to feel you inside of me.”
David smiled, his tired eyes twinkling with excitement. “So my first time isn’t over yet?”
Spencer looked at him, his grin widening. “Mine’s not over either. And I’m already wondering when we can do this again.”
David’s hand slid down to Spencer’s stomach. “I think I’m really going to like college.”
And he did. This was just their first time, but it wouldn't be their last.
