Not Exactly
Noah discovered on Wednesday morning that Marcus had been right about one thing.
The pain waited.
It had been little more than a pleasant heaviness when he went to bed Monday night, and Tuesday’s frantic run to university had apparently distracted him from the worst of it. By Wednesday, however, every muscle Marcus had touched seemed to have lodged a formal complaint.
Noah opened his eyes, stretched automatically, and stopped halfway.
“Fuck.”
His shoulders protested first. His chest joined in when he pushed himself upright. Even reaching for his phone on the bedside table produced an ache along the backs of his arms.
There were already two notifications. One was from the university reminding him about something he was certain he had already read.
The other was from Ryan.
Noah opened that one first.
Morning, Commando.
He smiled despite himself. Two days ago Ryan had been a cropped torso ninety-one metres away. Yesterday he had become Ryan Taylor: first-year biology student, questionable percentage-error calculations, silver chain, lab partner. And apparently persistent. Beneath the sheet Noah’s cock started to thicken with the thought of Ryan.
Noah typed:
Do you have any other hobbies?
The response came almost immediately.
Biochemistry.
That’s worse.
You asked.
Noah settled back against the pillow. His body complained again. His cock shifted against the sheet.
Another message appeared.
Still didn’t answer btw.
Noah knew exactly what he meant. He looked down at himself beneath the sheet, the outline clear.
You’re going to have to live with uncertainty.
Thought you were meant to be a scientist.
Scientists accept uncertainty.
There was a pause.
Hot.
Noah laughed aloud, the sound low. His cock gave a slow throb as he laughed.
He put the phone aside before Ryan could turn seven-thirty in the morning into something more distracting and forced himself out of bed. The house was already awake. He could hear a cupboard closing in the kitchen and someone moving around near the front door. Noah pulled on a pair of soft shorts and nothing else. Even bending to get them over his legs made his shoulders complain. The thin fabric settled over his cock, outlining it clearly.
He reached the kitchen and found Liam at the table with coffee and a laptop.
Liam looked up. His eyes moved openly over Noah’s bare chest, lingered on the faint lines of his stomach, then dropped to the soft shorts and the thick outline pressing against the front before settling on his face.
Noah noticed.
Liam said nothing.
“Morning,” Noah said.
“Morning.”
Noah crossed to the cupboard and reached for a bowl. The movement pulled sharply across his shoulder. He stopped before his arm was fully raised, adjusted the angle and tried again, slower this time.
Behind him, Liam gave a quiet laugh.
Noah glanced back. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You laughed.”
Liam leaned back slightly in his chair, coffee in one hand. “You’re sore.”
“I’m fine.”
“You just negotiated with a cupboard.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
Noah managed to retrieve the bowl and put it on the bench with more care than usual. Liam’s smile widened.
“Marcus?”
“Maybe.”
“Knew it.”
Noah opened the refrigerator. “You complained for two days after he trained you.”
“I was injured.”
“You did squats.”
“Exactly.”
Noah looked towards the cereal sitting on top of the refrigerator. It suddenly seemed considerably higher than yesterday. He considered his options. Liam watched him for a moment.
“Want me to get that?”
Noah looked over. Liam’s expression was completely innocent.
“Fuck off.”
“That sounds like a yes.”
“I can reach the cereal.”
“I’m sure you can.”
Noah stretched upwards. His shoulder immediately objected, and he lowered his arm again with a muttered curse. Liam put down his coffee and stood.
“Move.”
“I hate you.”
“You’ll survive.”
Liam reached past him for the cereal. For a moment he was close enough that Noah caught the smell of coffee and whatever soap he had used that morning. Liam’s bare arm brushed Noah’s shoulder; the contact was brief but deliberate enough that Noah felt it travel straight down to his cock, which thickened inside the soft shorts. Liam placed the box on the bench with exaggerated care.
“There.”
“Thank you.”
“Any time.”
Noah poured cereal while Liam returned to the table. For several seconds the kitchen settled into the ordinary sounds of morning: spoon against ceramic, traffic beginning outside, the low hum of the refrigerator. Every time Noah shifted, the soft shorts rubbed against his bare cock. Liam’s eyes returned to him more than once.
It should not have felt significant. That was the strange thing. Monday had contained enough male attention to occupy Noah’s thoughts for days. Ryan had spent half of yesterday’s practical trying to discover whether Noah was wearing underwear. Thomas still appeared regularly on his phone. Marcus had stood in Noah’s bedroom doorway while Noah tried badly to conceal what he had been doing. Yet sitting half-dressed in the kitchen while Liam drank coffee, the soft outline of his cock visible, felt unexpectedly charged.
Noah looked across at him. Liam had gone back to whatever was on his laptop, dark hair still untidy from sleep. No towel. No naked body in the hallway. No flirting Noah could confidently identify as flirting. Just Liam - and the lingering heat of that brief arm brush.
“Do you have class today?” Noah asked.
“Eleven.”
“Engineering?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You chose it.”
“That was before I understood how many people would enjoy explaining vectors to me.”
Noah smiled. “Thought engineers liked that sort of thing.”
“We like pretending we do.”
Liam glanced at him. “You?”
“Two lectures. Nothing exciting.”
“Biology boy.”
“Engineering boy.”
“Very creative.”
“I’ve been awake ten minutes.”
Liam smiled into his coffee. Noah ate for a while without speaking. The kitchen settled around them again, quiet except for the scrape of his spoon against the bowl and the occasional tap of Liam’s keyboard.
Noah shifted in his chair.
His shoulder complained.
Liam looked up.
“Don’t,” Noah muttered.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
Liam’s mouth twitched. “You’re getting very defensive.”
“I’m surrounded by terrible people.”
“You moved in voluntarily.”
“I’m beginning to question that decision.”
Liam went back to his laptop, still smiling.
Noah finished his cereal and stood. He carried the bowl to the sink, trying not to make it obvious that lifting his arm was still uncomfortable.
Behind him, Liam said, “You’re doing it again.”
Noah glanced back. “Doing what?”
“Pretending you’re not sore.”
“I’m not sore.”
Liam looked pointedly at the bowl Noah was holding unusually close to his body.
Noah sighed. “Fine. A little.”
“There we go.”
“Happy?”
“Very.”
Noah rinsed the bowl and set it in the rack. When he turned, Liam’s attention was already on him. His eyes dropped briefly over Noah’s bare chest and the soft shorts with the outline of his cock before returning to his face.
This time Noah caught it.
Liam didn’t look away immediately.
Noah felt the small, familiar warmth of being noticed.
“What?” he asked.
Liam lifted his coffee. “Nothing.”
Noah laughed.
“You’re all terrible influences.”
“Still haven’t said anything.”
“Exactly.”
Noah headed back towards his room, smiling despite himself.
University felt less intimidating on the third day. The buildings had not become easier to navigate so much as Noah had stopped expecting every wrong turn to expose him as someone who did not belong there. He recognised the path towards the science buildings. Knew which set of stairs came out near the courtyard. Had discovered that the café Callum claimed was “acceptable” produced coffee only marginally better than orientation catering.
Callum was waiting outside their late-morning lecture with one earphone in and a photograph of a lizard open on his phone. As Noah sat beside him, Callum angled the screen in his direction.
“Look at this.”
Noah glanced at the photograph.
“Is that another reptile?”
“Obviously.”
“I walked into that.”
Callum smiled. “Cunningham’s skink.”
“I didn’t ask what it was.”
“You were going to.”
“I really wasn’t.”
Callum enlarged the photograph with two fingers. “They’re actually pretty cool. They live in—”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The explanation I didn’t ask for.”
Callum laughed. “You sat next to me.”
“Apparently that’s consent to reptile facts now.”
“Exactly.”
Noah shook his head, smiling despite himself.
The lecturer arrived before Callum could explain anything further. For the next hour Noah actually paid attention. There was something reassuring about the language of biology. Cells, proteins, membranes, enzymes. Concepts he already partly understood expanding outward into things he did not. Unlike almost everything else happening in his life, there were questions here that were supposed to have answers if you looked carefully enough.
His phone vibrated once in his pocket. He ignored it until they were outside.
Ryan. A photograph.
Not explicit. Barely even suggestive. Ryan was sitting somewhere outside with one knee raised, dark shorts visible beneath the edge of a notebook. His silver chain caught the sunlight at the bottom of the frame. The caption:
Studying.
Noah’s cock gave a slow throb inside his shorts at the sight of the chain and the low shorts. He typed:
That notebook is closed.
Preparing to study.
Very different.
Then:
Where are you?
Noah looked around. He was tempted to answer. More tempted than he expected. Instead:
Going to lunch.
Ryan reacted with a thumbs-down. Callum looked over.
“Still nothing?”
Noah almost laughed. “Apparently.”
“You’re doing the smiling thing again.”
“I don’t have a smiling thing.”
“You do now.”
Noah shoved the phone into his pocket. “What are you getting for lunch?”
Callum was immediately distracted. It was becoming useful.
By four, the heat had settled heavily over the streets around campus. Noah changed at home before heading to the gym, choosing the same black training shorts and a loose sleeveless shirt. He considered underwear for approximately two seconds before dismissing the idea on principle. The soft shorts settled over his cock, outlining the thick shape clearly.
Marcus had already messaged.
Free weights.
Noah arrived ten minutes early anyway. This time Marcus did not look surprised. He was beside a rack loading plates when Noah approached.
“You came back.”
“You invited me.”
“I assumed you’d use the soreness as an excuse.”
Noah dropped his bag beside the bench. “I spent the entire morning being mocked by Liam. I’m not giving him the satisfaction.”
Marcus smiled. “He’s still complaining about that one leg session?”
“Apparently it changed him as a person.”
“He was dramatic before that.”
“Good to know.”
Marcus looked Noah over. The glance was familiar now. Shoulders. Arms. Chest. Then lower - openly, deliberately - to the clear outline of Noah’s cock against the thin black fabric. The look lasted a full second.
Noah had become increasingly certain he was not imagining it.
Marcus nodded towards the rack. “Pull today.”
“Trying to make the rest of me hurt?”
“Balance.”
“That sounds made up.”
“Start warming up.”
This workout felt different from Monday. Marcus still corrected him occasionally, but the corrections were smaller and lingered longer. A hand against Noah’s shoulder blade that stayed a beat too long. Two fingers at his elbow that traced the muscle before withdrawing. A reminder to slow down delivered close enough that Noah could feel the heat of Marcus’s body.
Most of the time they simply trained. Marcus talked about work at the sports centre. Noah complained about Callum’s reptiles and carefully omitted the fact that his laboratory partner was also a cropped Grindr torso he had been looking at during orientation.
“You’re actually friends with this reptile guy?” Marcus asked.
“I think so.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I met him Monday.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“He sends me pictures of frogs.”
Marcus considered this. “Definitely friend material.”
“Apparently.”
Halfway through another set, movement in the mirror caught Noah’s attention. Dark hair. Tan shoulders. For a second he did not understand why the sight registered. Then the guy turned. The shower. Monday.
Noah lost count. His cock thickened inside the soft shorts at the memory.
Marcus noticed. “Seven.”
“What?”
“You’re on seven.”
“Right.”
Noah finished the set and reracked. Across the room, the guy from Monday stood beside a cable machine wearing a grey training top and black shorts. He looked different clothed, which was absurdly obvious, but Noah recognised him immediately. The guy saw him. Their eyes met through the mirror. Recognition moved across his face. Then the same faint smile from beneath the water - the smile that had accompanied the slow stroke of a fully hard cock.
Noah smiled back, his cock throbbing against the thin fabric.
“Friend?”
Marcus’s voice came from beside him. Noah turned. “What?”
Marcus nodded almost imperceptibly towards the other side of the gym. “You know him?”
Noah looked back. The guy had returned to adjusting the cable. “Not exactly.”
Marcus’s eyebrows lifted. “That sounds promising.”
“It’s accurate.”
“Right.”
Noah reached for his water bottle. Marcus looked across the gym once more, eyes lingering, but did not ask anything else. That somehow made Noah more aware that he had noticed - and that Marcus had noticed him noticing.
They continued training. The guy from Monday remained somewhere in the background for another twenty minutes. Noah caught him once more in the mirror, but there was no repeat of Monday’s invitation, no movement towards the changing room together. Eventually Noah looked up and realised the cable machine was empty. He felt a faint, surprising relief. Not because he had stopped finding the guy attractive. He simply did not need anything to happen.
Marcus reracked a pair of dumbbells. “Done?”
Noah rolled one shoulder. “I think another set might kill me.”
“Then yes.”
“Very scientific.”
“You’re the scientist.”
Noah smiled and followed him towards the changing rooms. His cock was half-hard, the soft shorts doing nothing to hide it.
The room was busier than Monday. Office workers were changing for evening sessions. Someone was trying to force an oversized backpack into a locker. Music from the gym leaked faintly through the wall. Marcus opened his locker.
“You showering?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. You smell.”
Noah stared at him. Marcus laughed and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the solid chest and shoulders Noah had been trying not to stare at all session.
“Dick.”
“Accurate.”
Noah stripped at his own locker. He had seen Marcus half-dressed often enough now that his body should not have registered as anything particularly new. Marcus walked around the house in little after training. Noah had watched him demonstrate exercises. Had felt his hands correcting his shoulders and back. Completely naked was different.
Marcus dropped his shorts and underwear in one movement. Noah’s eyes went down before he could stop them. Marcus’s cock was thick, cut, hanging soft against his thigh, the head visible. He wrapped a towel loosely around his waist - low enough that the shape was still clear - and headed towards the showers. Noah followed, already half-hard again, the soft shorts tenting slightly before he stripped them off.
The communal area was quieter than the changing room. Several showerheads ran along one tiled wall, leaving no privacy. Marcus chose one near the middle. Noah took the next.
Hot water hit his shoulders.
“Fuck.”
Marcus looked across. “Sore?”
“Maybe.”
“You said you were fine this morning.”
“I was lying.”
“Obviously.”
Noah turned beneath the spray, letting the heat work across his back. His cock, free of the shorts, began to thicken properly under the water. Marcus reached for the shampoo. Noah looked. He had meant to look at the bottle. At least that was the explanation he gave himself.
Marcus stood partly sideways beneath the water, one arm raised as he worked shampoo through his hair. Years of training showed more clearly without clothes: broad shoulders, solid chest, stronger through the torso than Liam. Water followed the lines of his body, running down the defined abs, over the V of his hips, and across the thick, soft cock that hung heavy between his legs. Noah’s gaze followed it. His own cock rose fully hard, the head flushing, precum beginning to bead at the tip.
Then he caught himself. He turned towards his own shower. This was stupid. Marcus was Marcus. His housemate. Possibly his friend. Someone who had spent the afternoon making fun of his soreness and discussing a man who double-booked squash courts.
Noah rinsed his hair. A minute later he looked again. Marcus had turned away. Water ran down his back as he rinsed the shampoo out, cascading over the solid curve of his ass and the heavy hang of his cock between his legs. Noah’s eyes travelled lower before he stopped them. He looked away, cock fully hard and aching under the spray.
“You all right?”
Noah nearly jumped. “Yeah.”
Marcus glanced over. His eyes dropped openly to Noah’s hard cock, lingered for a clear second, then came back up. “You went quiet.”
“Water in my ear.”
Marcus stared at him for half a second, gaze flicking down once more to the thick, flushed length of Noah’s cock standing out from his body. “Right.”
Noah could not tell whether he believed him. That was somehow worse. Marcus went back to rinsing his hair, but Noah noticed that Marcus’s own cock had begun to thicken, the soft hang becoming heavier, the head starting to emerge. Noah concentrated very hard on the tiles in front of him. It lasted perhaps thirty seconds.
He looked again. This time Marcus was facing him. Noah had no idea where Marcus had been looking a second earlier, but Marcus’s cock was now half-hard, thick and heavy, the head fully exposed. Marcus gave no indication that he had noticed anything - or that he had noticed Noah noticing. He simply reached past the divider for his towel, the movement making his cock swing.
“Done?”
Noah cleared his throat, painfully aware of his own fully hard cock. “Yeah.”
Marcus turned off the water. Noah did the same. Ten minutes later they were dressed and outside. Marcus behaved exactly as he always did. Which told Noah absolutely nothing.
They walked home rather than taking the bus. The evening air was still warm, although the sharpest part of the afternoon heat had begun to fade. Marcus claimed walking counted as active recovery. Noah suspected exercise-science students had simply invented language to make resting impossible.
“Can’t we just call this walking home?” Noah asked.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because this is active recovery.”
“It’s literally walking.”
“Active.”
Noah looked at him. “You people are exhausting.”
Marcus smiled. “You came to the gym with me.”
“Clearly a mistake.”
“You’ll be back.”
“That confidence is annoying.”
“Still true.”
Noah rolled one shoulder and immediately regretted it.
Marcus noticed.
“Sore?”
“No, injured.”
“Dramatic.”
Marcus laughed. For a while they walked without speaking. Cars passed occasionally, tyres whispering over warm asphalt. Noah could still feel the shower on his skin. And Marcus in it — the thick half-hard cock, the open look at Noah’s own. He pushed the thought away. Mostly.
They reached the house just after six. An unfamiliar car was parked out front. Noah barely registered it until Marcus slowed beside him.
“Oh.”
Noah looked across. “What?”
Marcus nodded towards the car. “Claire’s back.”
“Who?”
Marcus was already heading towards the front door. “You’ll see.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It will be in about thirty seconds.”
Marcus opened the door. Voices came from the kitchen before Noah had even kicked off his shoes. Sophie. Liam. And someone else. A woman.
Marcus dropped his gym bag beside the wall and called down the hallway. “Claire?”
“Unfortunately.”
Marcus laughed. Noah followed him towards the kitchen. Liam was leaning against the bench. Beside him stood a girl Noah had never seen before. She looked around their age, perhaps nineteen or twenty, with dark-blond hair tied loosely behind her head. Denim shorts. Pale shirt. One of the house’s mismatched mugs held between both hands. A small overnight bag sat near the hallway. More than anything, she looked comfortable. Not visitor comfortable. Familiar comfortable.
Sophie sat sideways at the table talking to her. All three looked up as Marcus and Noah entered.
“Finally,” Sophie said. “The gym cult returns.”
Marcus dropped his water bottle onto the bench. “Claire survived the family?”
“Barely.”
Liam smiled. Noah noticed that first. The ease in it. Then Liam looked towards him.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
There was a fraction of a pause. “Oh. Right.” Liam straightened slightly. “You haven’t met.”
The girl smiled. “Noah?”
He looked at her. “Yeah.”
“Claire.”
Liam added, casually: “My girlfriend.”
The words were completely ordinary. No dramatic pause. No change in the room. Sophie was already reaching for her drink. Marcus had opened the refrigerator. Only Noah seemed to stop. Not visibly, he hoped.
“Oh.”
Claire smiled. “Finally.”
There was that word again. Noah forced himself to catch up. “Finally?”
“I’ve heard about the new housemate approximately six times.”
Liam looked at her. “You have not.”
“You sent me a photo of the pizza.”
“That wasn’t about Noah.”
“He was in the background.”
Sophie laughed. Noah looked at Liam. Liam looked faintly embarrassed. Something tightened unexpectedly beneath Noah’s ribs. It was ridiculous. He had known Liam less than a week. He had spent part of that time with Thomas, another part going down on a stranger at the beach, and most of Tuesday flirting with Ryan. Less than an hour ago he had been hard in the shower watching Marcus’s cock thicken. Liam having a girlfriend should have meant absolutely nothing. Instead it landed like a door quietly closing somewhere Noah had not realised he was walking towards.
Claire put her mug down and offered him her hand. “Nice to properly meet you.”
Noah took it. “You too.”
And annoyingly, within five minutes, he liked her. There was no obvious flaw to grab onto. Claire had been visiting family interstate for the last several days, which explained why Noah had not seen her since moving in. She was studying occupational therapy at another campus. She already knew Sophie well enough to complain about one of Sophie’s coworkers by name and Marcus well enough to tell him he was banned from discussing creatine while she was eating.
“I mentioned it once,” Marcus said.
“You explained absorption rates.”
“It was relevant.”
“It was breakfast.”
“That doesn’t make it irrelevant.”
Claire looked towards Noah. “You see what I’ve been dealing with?”
“I’m beginning to.”
When Liam opened the refrigerator and discovered someone had finished his orange juice, Claire pointed at him. “You drank it yesterday.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“You weren’t here.”
“You sent me a photo.”
Liam stopped. Sophie laughed so hard she nearly dropped her mug. Claire looked towards Noah. “He documents his own crimes.”
“Apparently.”
“Traitor,” Liam said.
Noah smiled. That was the problem. Claire fit. She was easy. Funny. Already part of whatever rhythm the house had established before Noah arrived. Liam moved behind her to reach one of the cupboards. His hand settled briefly against her waist as he passed, and Claire leaned back against him automatically for half a second without interrupting whatever she was saying to Sophie. Noah saw it. He wished he had not. The residual half-hardness from the shower faded under the sudden cold weight of it.
Marcus caught him looking. Their eyes met. Marcus’s expression gave nothing away — but Noah remembered the open look in the shower, the way Marcus’s cock had thickened while Noah watched. Noah looked towards the refrigerator instead and took out a bottle of water he did not particularly want.
“You all right?” Liam asked.
Noah looked up. “Yeah.”
“You look tired.”
“Marcus.”
Everyone accepted that explanation immediately. Marcus pointed at him. “Don’t blame me.”
“You did this.”
“You voluntarily came back.”
Claire looked between them. “Is this the session that destroyed Liam?”
“No,” Marcus said.
“Yes,” Liam said at exactly the same time.
Claire laughed. Noah joined in. The conversation moved on. He was grateful.
Dinner happened almost accidentally. Someone suggested takeaway. Sophie complained they had already spent too much money that week. Marcus suggested chicken and rice and was ignored unanimously. Eventually Liam started making pasta while Claire sat on the edge of the bench stealing pieces of capsicum from the chopping board. Noah watched more than he wanted to. Not because Liam and Claire were particularly affectionate. That might have been easier. It was the opposite. Claire knew where Liam kept things. Liam handed her a spoon without asking. She moved before he needed access to the cupboard behind her. When he tasted the sauce, Claire held out her hand for the spoon automatically. They had done this before. Five months, Noah learned. Not years. Not since school. Long enough to be real. That should have made Noah feel better. It did not.
His phone vibrated against his thigh while they were eating. Noah pulled it out beneath the edge of the table. Grindr. Thomas.
What are you doing tomorrow?
Noah smiled and typed:
Lab in the morning. Why?
Thomas replied almost immediately.
Free after?
Should be.
Good.
Noah frowned.
That’s suspicious.
Maybe.
“Why are you smiling?”
Noah looked up.
Sophie was watching him from across the table.
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Claire glanced between them, amused. Liam had looked up from his plate too.
Noah locked the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
“You all spend far too much time watching me.”
“You’re sitting directly opposite me,” Sophie said. “It’s difficult not to.”
“Still creepy.”
She pointed her fork vaguely towards his pocket. “Is this the mysterious coffee person?”
Noah stared at her. “You remember that?”
“Of course.”
“It was four days ago.”
Sophie shrugged. “You don’t give me much gossip. I have to preserve what I get.”
Claire laughed.
“There’s nothing to preserve,” Noah said.
Liam’s mouth twitched.
Noah caught it. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Sophie immediately pointed at Liam with her fork. “See?”
“See what?”
“He’s learning.”
Noah looked between them. “I hate this house.”
“You’ve been here five days,” Marcus said.
“Long enough.”
His phone vibrated once more in his pocket. Noah knew who it was. He left it there.
Sophie noticed the sound but, apparently satisfied that she had extracted as much entertainment as she was going to get, returned to arguing with Marcus about whether his meal-prep containers technically counted as cookware.
The conversation moved on. Liam did not ask. Noah noticed that too.
At one point Liam got up to find another drink. Claire watched him cross the kitchen. “He told me you found your building Monday.”
Noah blinked. “Sorry?”
“He was weirdly proud of the map thing.”
From across the kitchen Liam called, “I can hear you.”
“Good.”
Noah smiled despite himself. “He claimed full responsibility.”
“That sounds like him.”
Liam returned and placed a glass in front of Claire. Noah watched the movement. The quiet familiarity. He understood suddenly why the towel had affected him so differently from Thomas. It had never really been the towel. That was inconvenient.
After dinner the house gradually separated. Marcus disappeared towards his room, claiming he had an early shift. Sophie announced that she needed a shower before somebody else used all the hot water. Claire picked up the overnight bag Noah had noticed earlier.
“I’m going to change.”
Liam nodded towards the hallway. “You know where everything is.”
“I would hope so.”
She leaned in and kissed him quickly before heading towards his room. Nothing dramatic. Barely a second. Noah still noticed. The residual image of Marcus’s half-hard cock in the shower collided with the quiet domesticity of the kiss, leaving him restless.
He began gathering glasses from the table. Liam helped. For a minute or two they worked without saying much. Sophie’s shower ran somewhere down the hallway. A cupboard opened in Liam’s room. The ordinary sounds of the house returned around them. Liam handed Noah another glass.
“Everything okay?”
Noah looked over. “Yeah.”
“You seemed distracted before.”
“Oh.” Noah dried the glass. “It’s just a friend.”
Liam nodded. No pressure for anything else. Noah found himself adding it anyway.
“Thomas.”
“Right.”
“French backpacker. He’s working at a hostel near the beach.”
Recognition came slowly. Liam’s mouth tilted. “Coffee.”
Noah laughed. “Apparently that story made a lasting impression.”
“Sophie made it sound suspicious.”
“It was coffee.”
“Didn’t say it wasn’t.”
Noah put the glass away. “We met Saturday.”
“Right.”
“He wants to catch up tomorrow. That’s what he was asking.”
Liam rinsed another plate. “Know where you’re going?”
“No.”
“Sounds well organised.”
“Exactly.”
Liam smiled. Noah waited for another question. None came. That made it easier to continue.
“He’s travelling. So he’s only around for a while.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.”
Liam handed him the plate. “Nice to know someone outside this disaster, I suppose.”
Noah looked around the kitchen. “This disaster?”
“You’ve met us.”
“Fair.”
They smiled. That was all. No interrogation. No strange pause Noah had to interpret. Just Liam asking because Noah had spent half of dinner staring at his phone. From down the hallway came Claire’s voice.
“Liam?”
He looked towards his room. “Yeah?”
“Have you seen my charger?”
“Your bag.”
“I checked.”
“Top drawer.”
“You said that last time.”
“Because that’s where it is.”
“It isn’t.”
Liam closed his eyes briefly. Noah smiled. “Sounds like you’ve been summoned.”
“Apparently.”
Liam put the tea towel down. “Good luck tomorrow.”
Noah looked at him. “With what?”
Liam nodded towards his phone. “Whatever the mysterious French backpacker has planned.”
Noah laughed. “Thanks.”
Liam started down the hallway. “Try not to get murdered.”
“Very reassuring.”
“That’s what housemates are for.”
He disappeared towards his room. Noah stood alone in the kitchen for another moment. Housemate. Right. He picked up his phone and went to his bedroom.
The room was warm enough that clothes lasted less than a minute. Noah stripped and stretched across the bed naked. His shoulders still carried Marcus’s workout, the muscles through his back pleasantly heavy. His cock was already half-hard again from the residual images of the shower. His mind was considerably less tired.
Marcus beneath the shower appeared without invitation. Water running across his broad shoulders. Wet hair. The thick cock hanging soft, then thickening under Noah’s open stare. The moment Marcus had turned while Noah was looking and Noah had no idea whether he had been caught - only that Marcus’s cock had been half-hard when he reached for the towel.
Noah stared at the ceiling. “Great.”
He reached for his phone. Thomas had messaged again.
Scientist?
Noah opened the conversation.
Sorry. Dinner.
You survived?
Barely.
Very dramatic.
You asked.
Thomas sent a laughing reaction. Noah typed, one hand already wrapping loosely around his cock:
So what’s tomorrow?
Impatient.
Yes.
I thought we could go somewhere after your lab.
You already established that.
Near the water.
Beach?
Something like that.
Very specific.
You ask too many questions.
Noah smiled, stroking slowly. The conversation drifted after that. Nothing particularly important at first. Thomas had spent most of the day at the hostel. Someone had flooded one of the bathrooms. A guest had attempted to put metal inside the microwave and then argued that the sparks were probably normal. Noah told him about university, Callum’s apparently unstoppable reptile education and Marcus’s second attempt at destroying every muscle he owned - carefully omitting the mutual hard-ons in the shower.
Thomas replied:
And you voluntarily went back.
Apparently.
You like suffering.
Noah thought about Marcus beneath the shower, cock thickening while Noah watched.
Maybe.
Thomas reacted with another laughing face. Then Noah asked:
What did you do after work?
Laundry.
Exciting.
Very.
Then:
Argued with my friend about when we go north.
Noah paused and moved both his hands to his phone.
Who won?
He did.
When?
This reply took longer. The typing indicator appeared. Disappeared. Returned.
Friday morning.
Noah stared at the screen.
Friday.
He read it again.
This Friday?
Yeah.
Something tightened beneath his ribs. Saturday Thomas had said perhaps another week. Maybe two.
I thought you had longer.
So did I.
That was worse somehow. Noah looked towards the open window. Outside, a car moved slowly along the street.
What changed?
My friend needs to keep moving. If I stay, I probably don’t go with him.
Noah understood. That did not mean he liked it.
So that’s why tomorrow.
Yes.
Another message arrived.
I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.
Noah smiled despite the disappointment sitting beneath it.
So tomorrow is goodbye?
Thomas took a moment.
Tomorrow is tomorrow.
Then:
We can deal with goodbye after.
Of course. Thomas could apparently make even leaving sound uncomplicated. Noah typed:
Still refusing to tell me where we’re going?
Yes.
Annoying.
Trust me, scientist.
Noah stared at the words.
Fine.
A moment later:
Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll meet you after class.
Goodnight, Noah.
Noah hesitated.
Goodnight.
Thomas went offline soon afterwards. The conversation was finished. Noah put the phone beside him. Friday. The word seemed much larger now. Thomas had always been temporary. Noah had known that. Apparently knowing something would end and knowing the exact morning were different things.
He lay still for a while, hand still loosely around his cock. His body was tired. The rest of him apparently had not received the message. Marcus returned first. The shower. The water. Noah looking once. Then again. The thick cock hanging, then thickening. Had Marcus noticed? He still did not know. Then Liam that morning, reaching over him for the cereal, arm brushing his shoulder. Liam laughing across the kitchen. Liam tonight, standing beside him drying dishes as if knowing a little more about Noah’s life were completely ordinary. And Thomas. Tomorrow near the water. One last afternoon.
Noah’s hand drifted more purposefully. Ryan would be beside him before that. The laboratory. The silver chain. That smile across the bench. Noah let his hand settle properly and began stroking with slow, deliberate focus.
His phone vibrated beside his hip. Noah considered ignoring it. His hand stayed where it was, fist sliding. Then he picked up the phone with his free hand.
Ryan. No message. Just a photograph.
Noah opened it. Ryan was lying back against what looked like his bed, shirtless, one arm folded behind his head. The silver chain rested against his chest. Without the lab coat and T-shirt, Noah could see more of the lean definition he had only glimpsed beneath his clothes on Tuesday. His black shorts sat low on his hips, the soft outline of his cock clearly visible against the fabric. The photograph stopped just there. Deliberately. Nothing explicit. Nothing accidental either. Underneath was a single word.
Studying.
Noah laughed quietly, still stroking. He typed one-handed, precum making the screen slightly sticky.
Your definition of studying is getting worse.
The reply came quickly.
You looked.
Noah smiled, hips lifting into his fist.
It appeared on my screen.
Good defence.
That one caught him. The hallway. Liam. It was directly in front of me. Noah shook his head. Apparently he was collecting men who argued the same way.
Ryan sent:
Like it?
Noah looked at the photograph again. The silver chain. Bare skin. The low waistband and the clear soft outline of Ryan’s cock. He stroked faster.
Maybe.
Liar.
Noah looked at the photograph once more, then angled his own phone. He took a picture from above: his face half in shadow, the lean lines of his chest and stomach, the faint definition along his sides, ending exactly where the neat strip of trimmed dark hair began above his cock. Nothing below. Suggestive enough.
He sent it with the message
Okay, yes - I like it.
The reply took less than ten seconds.
Fuck.
Then, a few seconds later:
Okay. That was unfair.
You started it.
I know.
Regretting it?
Absolutely not.
Another message appeared.
Tomorrow is going to be a problem.
Noah felt his cock thicken in his hand.
Biochemistry problem?
Among other things.
Noah stared at that for a moment before typing:
See you tomorrow.
Definitely.
That was the end of it. No further messages. Noah put the phone face-down and closed his eyes again, working himself faster, hips lifting, the wet sound of his fist clear in the quiet room.
A laugh came softly through the wall.
Noah’s eyes opened. Claire. Liam answered, too quiet for Noah to understand. For several moments there was nothing else. Then another quiet laugh - lower this time, warmer. A soft shift of the bed. A breath that was not quite a laugh. Then the faint, unmistakable rhythm of the mattress.
Noah stared at the ceiling, fist still moving. The sounds were unmistakable now. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just the low, intimate noise of two people who knew each other’s bodies, the quiet catch of breath from Liam.
Minutes earlier Liam had existed wherever Noah’s imagination wanted him. Now reality put him firmly on the other side of the wall with Claire.
Noah kept moving. His mind went elsewhere instead - Marcus’s thickening cock in the shower, Ryan’s silver chain and the torso photo Noah had just sent, Thomas’s mouth, Liam naked in the hallway. The images collided without order while the faint creak of the bed next door remained impossible to entirely ignore.
He felt it building fast. He shifted higher on the pillows, angling his cock upward, stroking with short, tight strokes. When he came it hit hard - the first thick rope shooting up across his collarbone and onto his cheek, warm and sudden. The second landed across his open mouth and the side of his face. He kept stroking through it, more cum spilling over his fist and onto his stomach and chest, until the last pulses faded.
He lay still for a second, breathing hard, cum cooling on his skin and face. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, the familiar salt-and-skin taste of himself. He wiped the streak from his cheek with two fingers and did the same, slower, until nothing remained on his face.
For a while afterwards he did not move. His phone still lay beside him, Ryan’s photograph and the torso shot Noah had sent still open beneath the dark screen. He stared at the ceiling.
Thomas. Ryan. Marcus. Liam.
“What a ridiculous week it’s been.”
He smiled faintly, the smile fading as another soft sound came through the wall. Apparently his imagination had stopped caring about organisation. He cleaned the rest of the cum from his stomach and chest with the discarded shorts, then set the phone face-down.
Noah reached for his headphones and turned onto his side, facing away from the wall. The soft shorts he had used to clean up lay discarded on the floor, still damp. His body was spent. His mind was not.
