English is not my first language and this is my first submission. The novel might have some unnatural grammar and words.
The lecture hall was suffocating, air so still it felt dead. The professor droned on like a broken cuckoo clock, repeating last week’s theory in a voice that could more effective than any sleeping pill. Most students had given up pretending to care, either scrolling on their phones or slumped over in nap comas. Only a few poor souls in the front rows still fought to take notes—probably the ones who skipped class last week.
He felt an unprecedented confusion. Everything that happened last night played on loop in his head like some cheap porno—Blake, that jock roommate he despised—kneeling between his legs, sucking his massive cock, swallowing his cum, then shoving his own dick into Ethan's ass, and finally even sucking the cum out of him in the shower before kissing him with that filthy mouth.
Disgusting. Completely, irredeemably vile.
And yet, that sensation of being penetrated, being filled, the afterglow of orgasm, spread through his body like a hallucinogenic drug, giving him a satisfaction he'd never experienced before.
Since yesterday, Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about Blake. Every memory twisted in his brain: Blake helping him carry books, Blake offering him beer, Blake flaunting his body in their dorm with zero inhibition. He used to read all of that as bullying. As flaunting. As control.
But then… that look on Blake’s face last night. That confused, almost hurt look. That stupid line: "I thought we were friends."
Could it be... could it all have been just his own victim mentality? Was Blake really just an outgoing, friendly, easy-going normal guy?
Ethan glanced sideways. Blake's hair tips caught the sunlight, glinting gold. Despite it still being spring, he wore a simple gray tank top, his coach's jacket tied around his waist. The massive armholes in his tank top showed off his serratus and thick lats. One arm was resting on the desk, the other cradled his jaw. He looked vaguely bored, not asleep like the others, he was half-leaning against the chair back. Even in stillness, his body screamed vitality—broad chest pressing against the fabric, muscles defined in shadow. It was unfair.
Blake seemed to notice Ethan's gaze. He turned his head, flashing Ethan that signature sunny smile. Ethan's body stiffened, instinctively wanting to look away, but there wasn't a trace of mockery in Blake's smile—just that sunny, earnest smile he always had.
Blake didn't speak, just reached out and lightly tapped his finger on Ethan's desk. Then, he pulled a folded note from his pocket and discreetly slid it to Ethan.
Ethan felt his heart skip a beat. Cautiously, he picked up the note and unfolded it. There was Blake's messy handwriting:
"This class is so boring. The lecturer is just repeating what he already covered. Rather than listening to this, I'd much rather have your big sausage filling up my mouth."
Ethan gasped, his face instantly flushing red. He jerked his head up to look at Blake, who still wore that innocent smile, but his eyes now flashed with a lewdness and provocation only Ethan could read. Blake winked at Ethan, then made a slow, obscene blowjob gesture under the desk—thumb and forefinger forming a circle, his other hand's index finger slowly sliding in and out.
Ethan’s cock twitched. Then surged. Then tented so hard it hurt. Eight full inches of traitorous blood-rush. Panic hit him like a hammer. They're in a classroom. Full of people. What the hell was this guy thinking?
Blake, unfazed, subtly leaned his big frame toward Ethan, angling his broad shoulders just enough to block the view from everyone else.
Ethan felt himself trembling. He wanted to run, but the desire Blake had ignited burned like wildfire through his body. Blake's handsome face was right there, those blue eyes full of invitation and mischief. Ethan felt himself pulled by a powerful, forbidden attraction.
Then Blake reached down.
Ethan gasped as a warm, firm hand wrapped around his clothed erection. Fingers massaged the head through the fabric with terrifying precision. He bit his lip to keep the moan in. "Nnngh…"
Blake looked up, cocky grin in place. His fingers slid the zipper down. In one smooth move, Ethan’s cock was free, thick, twitching, leaking.
And then it was in Blake's mouth.Warmth. Wetness.
Ethan inhaled sharply, "Ssss!" He felt Blake's warm, wet mouth envelop his head, Blake's tongue swirling around his crown. Blake knelt on the chair, body leaning forward, head hidden under the desk, cleverly using his large frame and the desk to conceal their actions.
"Mmm... hmm..." Ethan clenched his jaw, desperately suppressing his moans. Blake's oral skills were surprisingly good; he seemed naturally gifted at pleasuring a cock. He used his tongue to twist and turn around Ethan's head, sometimes gently sucking with wet "slurp slurp" sounds, sometimes teasing that sensitive tip with his tongue.
Ethan felt waves of pleasure shooting through his entire body like electric currents. His fingers found Blake's hair. Soft. Goddamn golden. Blake made a low noise of approval and deepened the suction, now moving faster.
Blake started going deeper, swallowing Ethan's thick, long shaft bit by bit. Ethan looked down at Blake's head buried under the desk, seeing those broad shoulders and solid back, imagining Blake's handsome face contorted as he struggled to accommodate his big cock. That image gave Ethan a sense of dominance.
Blake worked hard to deepthroat, his throat making "gluk gluk" sounds.
"Suck! Suck like a good slave!" Ethan commanded in a low voice, his voice trembling from suppressed moans.
Blake seemed to enjoy Ethan's commands, his oral efforts becoming even more zealous. Ethan felt the pleasure intensifying. He couldn't help reaching out to grab the snake chain around Blake's neck. The cool feel of the chain contrasted sharply with Blake's hot body.
Blake seemed to notice Ethan's movement. He slightly lifted his head, looking up through the desk and Ethan's legs, meeting Ethan's gaze. He flashed Ethan a lust-filled smile, then deliberately tugged at his tank top's armhole, exposing his solid pec, serratus, and that small nipple.
Ethan gasped, "Fuck!" Blake was deliberately teasing him! He knew Ethan harbored both jealousy and desire for his body, so he was intentionally provocative! This slutty campus athlete was completely shameless!
Ethan felt his body becoming more sensitive from Blake's teasing. Unable to resist, he reached out and lightly touched Blake's exposed chest muscle through the tank top. It felt firm and warm beneath his fingers. Blake let out a deep moan, "Mmm..." .
Ethan arched his back as the orgasm hit him like a truck. He knew he was getting close. Looking at Blake's flushed face, he felt a rush of vindication. He wanted this moment of triumph, wanted to see the cocky jock completely overwhelmed.
Cum shot down Blake’s throat in heavy pulses. Blake swallowed every drop, making soft gulping noises, even as a few stray dribbles ran down his chin. He pulled back, eyes wicked, lips glossy. Blake finished cleaning up, then released Ethan. He looked up, flashing Ethan a satisfied smile. The corner of his mouth still glistened slightly, making him look like he'd just taken a sip of a thick milkshake.
Looking at Blake's face, Ethan felt a wave of disgust, but even more so a kind of pathological excitement. This athlete, this campus heartthrob, had actually swallowed his load!
Ethan stared, chest heaving. In front of him sat the golden boy of the ice hockey team. Mouth full of his cum. Eyes gleaming. Looking proud. This promiscuous campus sports star was completely shameless! But he was also dominant, easily claiming Ethan's body yesterday. Ethan had never imagined a man could be both a top and yet appear so submissive and lewd.
Looking at Blake, a strong suspicion grew in Ethan's mind: Was Blake experienced with men? How else would he know how to tease him, please him, make him climax? How would he know how to play with him, making him feel both disgusted and excited?
This suspicion took root in Ethan's mind like a seed. With slightly trembling hands, he tore a blank page from his notebook, hastily scribbled a few words, then folded it and discreetly passed it to Blake.
Blake noticed the note, raised an eyebrow, then took it and unfolded it under the desk. He quickly scanned the contents, a playful smile curling his lips. He didn't write a reply, just crumpled the note into a ball and stuffed it into his pants pocket.
Then Blake leaned slightly forward, bringing his mouth to Ethan's ear, whispering in a voice only they could hear: "You want to know how many men I've been with? I'll tell you all about it later, boss." His voice was deep and husky, carrying a sensual undertone that made Ethan's ear tingle.
Ethan's body jolted, his face instantly turning red all the way to his neck. He turned to look at Blake, who had already straightened up in his seat as if nothing had happened, though his eyes still carried that mischievous sparkle that only the two of them understood.
The moment the bell rang, it felt like a jailbreak.Chairs scraped. Backpacks zipped. Students poured out of the lecture hall in lazy clumps, muttering about how pointless that class had been. Ethan felt stiff all over. Though his excitement had subsided, the damp, sticky sensation and the lingering scent in his pants constantly reminded him of the absurdity that had just occurred under the desk. He glanced at Blake beside him, who was casually packing up his books, wearing his usual sunny smile, as if the person who had just been between Ethan's legs wasn't him at all.
Ethan felt sick. He hastily grabbed his things and practically fled from the classroom.
Blake called after him, "Ethan! Wait up!" but Ethan didn't stop. He just wanted to get back to the dorm quickly, take a shower, and wash away all traces of Blake, both physical and mental.
However, Blake was much faster. Just as Ethan reached the building entrance, Blake caught up and grabbed his arm. Blake's hand was large and strong, gripping him firmly so Ethan couldn't break free. "Hey, slow down, man." Blake panted, his face showing a brief confusion before recovering that sunny smile, though this time it carried a hint of seriousness. "We need to talk."
Ethan's body stiffened. He didn't want to talk, but he knew he couldn't escape now. Caught, he stopped and looked at Blake. They stood at the edge of the lawn in front of the academic building, surrounded by students hurrying past, no one paying attention to them. Ethan looked into Blake's blue eyes, which no longer held the playfulness and provocation from earlier, only a complex emotion Ethan couldn't decipher.
"Talk about what?" he mumbled.
Blake hesitated, then scratched the back of his neck.
"You. Me. And... " he paused, his eyes briefly glancing at Ethan's midsection before quickly looking away. "And... what happened last night and just now."
"I don't think there's anything to talk about," he muttered. "You're disgusting. That's all."
"No, there is," Blake insisted, not letting go of Ethan's arm. Instead, he pulled him along, heading toward their dorm. "Ethan, I'm genuinely confused. Last night you said you've hated me ever since we moved in together. I'd try to start conversations, invite you for drinks, not wanting you to feel left out. I thought you were just shy so I figured I should take the initiative, share my life with you—and you tell me you felt like I was bullying you. I don't get it, that's awful."
They walked side by side along the campus path, Ethan feeling the heat radiating from Blake's body. Ethan felt himself wavering. Blake seemed to be telling the truth, and he had been making Blake into an imaginary enemy all along... Ethan fell silent, and seeing no response, Blake continued.
" I know I can be a bit narcissistic, I enjoy the admiring looks when people check out my body. And In the locker room, no one gave a shit about clothes. You joke around, you shower together, you show off a little. but I never meant to hurt you that way, especially since I didn't think you minded—you're always pretending to study while secretly watching me out!"
Always secretly watching Blake? Me? Ethan felt irritated by Blake's words. He wanted to object but found himself stuck—he had indeed been constantly stealing glances at Blake's body. Damn it!
"I... I just hate you," Ethan said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of a choke.
"Why?" Blake pressed. "What have I done to make you hate me so much?"
Ethan looked up into Blake's confused eyes, and all the long-bottled resentment burst forth like a broken dam. "You show off! You're always walking around shirtless, flaunting your muscles! You bring those friends over, making noise, showing off how popular you are! You bring girls to our room and do those things, showing off how active your sex life is! You even parade around naked in front of me without any shame about your average size! Every supposed kindness from you feels like mockery, like bullying!"
Blake took a breath. He slowed his steps, allowing Ethan to walk beside him.
"I'm sorry. For real." Blake's voice softened, "I never intended to show off or bully you. I'm just... I'm just used to being this way. " He paused. "And about the girls—I shouldn’t have done that in our room. I'm so sorry about that.”
Ethan nodded slightly, accepting this. His heart was racing, his stomach twisted up. He hating Blake. Hating his stupid muscles and stupid kindness and stupid golden-boy smile. But right now, Blake looked… honest.
"And about last night and today..." Ethan's voice trembled as he gestured vaguely.
Blake smiled, but this time his smile held a complexity Ethan hadn't seen before—not purely sunny, not purely playful.
"That's... something different," he said, gently squeezing Ethan's fingers. "That's something I enjoy."
Ethan felt Blake's warm, strong hand on his, sending electric currents through his body. He looked at Blake, waiting for more explanation.
"Ethan," Blake's voice lowered slightly, "are you... interested in men?"
Ethan's body jolted in surprise. He hadn't expected such a direct question. He'd always avoided this question, even in his own thoughts. He hated Blake, yet his body's responses couldn't lie.
"I... I don't know," Ethan stammered.
"That screenshot is me. I do private cam shows for a lot of men, and even... I've been with men before."Blake admitted calmly, as if discussing the weather.
Ethan was shocked. His suspicions from the classroom and last night were true! Blake, this seemingly straight-as-an-arrow college athlete, had been with men! And from his tone, probably more than once. Ethan recalled how skilled Blake was, how he knew exactly what to do. Blake was clearly no stranger to same-sex encounters.
A malicious impulse rose in Ethan as he looked at Blake's handsome face. "How many men have you been with, you promiscuous jock?"
Blake's smile froze momentarily, but he quickly regained that playful expression. He seemed unbothered by the insult, instead appearing slightly surprised and excited by Ethan's directness.
Blake didn't answer directly. He leaned forward, bringing his mouth to Ethan's ear, whispering in a voice only they could hear: "Didn't I just say we have plenty of time to talk about this, boss?"
Ethan turned to look at Blake, who was now walking casually beside him as if nothing had happened, though his eyes still carried that mischievous sparkle only the two of them understood.
They walked through the entrance of their dormitory building, Blake continuing his explanation. "You asked if the hockey team does that kind of thing all the time, if those popular athletes are always doing stuff with each other?" Blake laughed, shaking his head. "No, man, it's not like that. Sure, sometimes the locker room hierarchy... some guys use sexual acts to bully freshmen, establish dominance, but it's not common, and not everyone does it." Blake's voice lowered, becoming more serious. "But that environment, that atmosphere of dominance and submission, does create a kind of homoerotic tension. So many guys are terrified of having our behavior associated with homosexuality."
"So... you're not unfamiliar with all this?" Ethan asked quietly.
Blake didn't avoid Ethan's gaze, giving him only a meaningful smile, neither confirming nor denying.
"Does this... make us gay?" Ethan asked again, his voice carrying confusion and fear. He looked at Blake, still full of questions. Why was Blake so familiar with all this? Was it really just the locker room culture? Or was he genuinely interested in men?
Blake squeezed Ethan's hand, his gaze gentle.
"I don't know, Ethan. Maybe. Maybe we just... enjoy being with each other." He paused, looking into Ethan's eyes. "Do you like it? Being with me."
Ethan fell silent. Did he like it? Disgust, humiliation, anger, but at the same time, that feeling of being filled, that thrill of being controlled by Blake, that pathological excitement... he couldn't deny that he liked those sensations.
"I... I don't know," Ethan stammered again.
Blake didn't force him to answer, just smiled gently. "That's okay, Ethan. We have time to figure it out."
