Time slipped by as we kept kissing, exploring each other’s tongues, our mouths, the shape of each other’s breath. Adrien was clearly more at ease than I was: more confident, more intense, and there was a kind of energy, even passion, in the way he kissed that my ex had never quite had. It didn’t fail to stir something in me.
Was that how men kissed?
More direct, more raw?
Whatever the answer, Adrien set a pace that left me struggling to keep up. We barely broke apart, moving from one kiss to the next, tongues meeting again and again, our heads tilting from one side to the other. Sometimes he moved so quickly I had trouble following.
Then suddenly, he pulled back—or rather, guided me back with the hand still resting on my cheek. Our lips parted.
He didn’t say anything, and I took the chance to open my eyes.
In the dim light, I could barely make out the contours of his face, but I could see the shine in his eyes. He was looking at me with a kind of quiet detachment that I found unexpectedly attractive—like he was simply letting himself exist in the moment. His lips were slightly parted, still damp from the kiss.
Then he turned and started walking toward the stairs with a steady, deliberate stride.
I followed, unsure of what to do. For a second, doubt crept in—had I messed something up? Had I kissed him wrong? Or maybe he just hadn’t liked kissing a guy.
As for me…
I had liked it.
That much was becoming clearer by the second.
More than that… I already wanted to kiss him again.
By the time we reached the apartment, Adrien seemed to be feeling both the alcohol and the kiss. He was a little unsteady. I caught him as he took off his shoes in the entryway—he almost went crashing straight to the floor.
“Careful, man.”
“Thanks…” he mumbled.
I helped him to the bathroom. He switched on the light, walked up to the mirror, and studied his reflection for a moment before glancing at me through it.
He smiled.
Then he splashed some water on his face and grabbed his toothbrush.
I followed.
We shared the same bathroom, so it wasn’t unusual to brush our teeth at the same time in the mornings. But this felt different. This time, it felt… intimate.
Throughout the whole ritual, Adrien kept glancing at me now and then, almost shyly, running a hand through his dark hair between strokes of the toothbrush.
I chose not to comment.
The kiss had said enough.
When we reached his door afterward, I gave him a simple, “Good night.” He didn’t answer right away.
I was about to close my own door when he called out:
“Steph.”
His voice was uncertain.
“Wait.”
I turned back, and he motioned for me to come closer.
Slowly, I did, stopping just in front of him—barely a foot away, my eyes level with his chin.
He seemed even taller up close. More imposing. He had to be a good ten centimeters taller than me.
“Do you remember…” he began, “when I told you I missed physical contact… all that stuff?”
“Yeah…”
It had only been a few days, but I remembered that moment clearly—how vulnerable he had seemed.
“Could you… help me with that?”
“Just tell me what you need,” I said, something instinctively willing lighting up inside me. “I’ve got you.”
“Hold me.”
Just like earlier in the courtyard, I didn’t hesitate. I stepped into him, giving in completely to what he was asking. This was his moment. His night. And honestly, something about him tugged at me.
He bent slightly to make it easier, letting me rest my head against his shoulder. I let myself relax into him, almost certain that this closeness would do me good too.
And it did.
His arms wrapped around me, longer than mine, stronger somehow—but above all, comforting.
Like a cocoon closing around me.
I melted into his embrace, eyes closing as I let myself fully feel it.
At one point, I thought I felt his fingers brush lightly along the small of my back.
Was this night ever going to stop bringing us closer?
After what must have been five minutes, Adrien gently pulled away, as if deciding that was enough for now, releasing me from his warmth.
“Thanks, Steph. For tonight,” he said, turning away at an unhurried pace. “See you tomorrow.”
I watched him walk back to his room and quietly close the door behind him.
Everything had been said.
I sat on the edge of my bed for a long time without really moving.
Something in me had shifted.
What the hell is happening to me…?
My life had been simple. Predictable. Straight, dating girls and doing the usual stuff with them. Movies, restaurants, sometimes kissing in a park. I knew who I was, what I liked, where I was going. There was a kind of comfort in that.
Now everything felt… blurred.
I didn’t even know if I was attracted to girls anymore honestly. Anyone, within the right context, could very mush have they’re way with me…
Anyone ? Really ?
My roommates were special.
Julien’s effortless confidence and teasing, the way he moved, the way he took what he wanted without overthinking it and teach me the basics of male/male intercourse. Greg, with his heavy presence, grounded, physical, almost overwhelming while he used me without even having to talk. And Adrien…
Adrien was even more special perhaps.
Quieter. Sharper. He didn’t pull, I walked toward him on my own.
And tonight…
I pressed my fingers lightly against my lips.
I could still feel it.
The warmth. The pressure. The way his mouth had moved against mine, like it wasn’t just curiosity.
That fucked was a good kisser.
I let myself fall back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling full of those fluorescent stars.
So what does that make me?
I wasn’t ready to grab it.
Not yet.
Because it didn’t feel that simple.
What I felt with Julien wasn’t the same as with Adrien. And Greg…
None of it fit neatly into a box, and maybe that was the problem, or maybe… that was the point.
I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket slightly over myself.
They all want something from me.
Something different.
Julien wanted intensity. Control. Play.
Greg wanted something physical, raw, uncomplicated.
Adrien…
I closed my eyes for a second.
Adrien just wanted to be held.
And I’d given that to him.
Even if everything else around it was messy.
I shifted slightly under the covers, feeling my boner still raging in my boxers.
I removed them slowly, before throwing them out of the bed.
And I started jerking myself, feeling how pent up I was from this long day.
My thoughts started drifting, images blending together in a strange haze, the shimmer of the pool, the warmth of Greg’s balls inside of my mouth, Adrien’s tongue exploring my mouth, the quiet weight of his arms around me.
Nothing made perfect sense anymore.
Everything in my head had turned into shattered fragments of images, all tangled together. I was completely at the mercy of the sensations.
One moment, just thinking about Julien’s hard, long cock spurting deep in my mouth had me on the edge of climax. The next, it was Greg’s sheer physical power—his big hands gripping my head tight like a rugby ball. And right after that, Adrien’s intense kiss in the dark, threatening to make me come right then and there.
Those late-night fantasies got the better of me. I ended up coming all over myself, thick, hot spurts splashing across my chest, from my neck down to my navel.
Maybe the drinks had helped, loosened me up, made it easier not to second-guess any of it… but one thing was certain : I’d never had an orgasm that powerful before.
- - -
Safe to say, waking up was rough.
My alarm went off at 7. Outside, I could already hear people moving around, starting their day. As I got up, I could feel the dried, crusty texture of cum on my stomach.
Gross.
I spent a long time in the shower, not just to wash away the physical evidence of the night before, but almost like I was trying to scrub my mind clean too. I was overthinking everything. To the point where I wasn’t even thinking about my studies anymore.
Sure, it was still the start of the year, but the harder parts were coming. Soon I’d have to dive into research projects in the library and online.
I had just stepped out of the shower, a red towel wrapped around my waist, when a playful voice made me jump.
“Well, well, look who it is! The little historian!”
Julien, obviously.
He was wearing a light blue pair of boxers with a white waistband. They looked old and worn out—the fabric barely holding anything in place. His thick cock was slipping out from one side, the swollen tip already leaking pre-cum.
“Hey…” I muttered. “You good?”
“Perfect,” he said casually. “Hey Steph, you think you could give me a little treat this morning?”
“Right now?”
“Yep, the morning-wood is kinda hitting hard here.” He grabbed himself through the fabric, like it was nothing. “And I can’t be bothered doing it myself now that I’ve got you around.”
“I… I need to get ready. Later.”
“I’m leaving in thirty minutes.”
“Then tonight. Sorry, I can’t right now.”
He gave me a wink as he walked past me, brushing his cock deliberately against my thigh.
“Tonight, no excuses, sucker.”
I ended up eating my toast with jam at the low table, already dressed for class, doing my best to avoid running into Adrien.
He was probably still asleep, he usually started later than the rest of us.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him yet.
What if he regrets what happened last night?
Maybe he’d blame it on the alcohol. Maybe he’d admit he hadn’t liked it after all…
Who knew.
Julien went out of his room after some time, still in his boxers, opened the fridge and started eating fast, looking at me.
I kid your not, his plate was loaded. Eggs. A mountain of them and next to it… some kind of questionable mix of greens and pale cubes.
I blinked.
“What the hell is that supposed to be?”
Julien didn’t even turn around, shoveling a forkful into his mouth:
“Protein mix. Saw it online. Tofu, broccoli, some seeds, I dunno. Supposed to be insane for recovery. Big G showed me this.”
“Looks insane, yeah.”
He snorted, finally glancing over his shoulder.
“Stick to your toast, city boy.”
There was a pause.
Then, casually:
“So. First week with us.”
I looked up.
“How is it?”
I shrugged, taking a bite.
“Honestly? Pretty great.”
“Yeah?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You like our energy?”
“Yeah. I mean…,” I admitted. “I didn’t expect all that.”
Julien walked towards me. I heard a drop of precum landing on the ground.
Fuck, Greg is going to be mad if he sees this!
I very deliberately looked at my toast.
“Different how?” he asked.
I cleared my throat.
“Well… Greg’s, uh—”
“—a caveman?” Julien cut in.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Something like that. But he’s chill. In his own way.”
“Yeah, he grows on you. Plus he’s good at what he does. Vert reliable too. How about our deal?”
“The deal,” I continued, pointing vaguely in his direction without fully looking, “that’s… intense. Way more intense than… the stuff I usually do.”
“I’m intense?” he repeated, amused.
“Yeah. My ex never treated me like that.”
“That’s called discipline. You’re still learning after all.”
“That’s called exhausting,” I shot back.
He grinned.
“Fair.” He scratched his balls casually.
I wanted them so bad too.
I took another bite of my toast to avoid thinking too much about his nuts, then added, a bit more quietly:
“And Adrien’s… cool. Easy to talk to. Smart.”
Julien made a small noise, like he was filing that away:
“You’re the smart one Steph. You adapted so quickly. To each one of us.”
There was a brief silence, just the sound of chewing and the faint hum of the apartment.
He was right...
Then Julien smirked.
“So… which one’s your favorite?”
I nearly choked on my toast:
“What?”
“You heard me.” He took another bite, watching me now. “Favorite roommate. Go. No extra-thinking.”
I coughed, buying time.
Great. Fantastic. I was trapped.
My brain immediately betrayed me.
Adrien?
No... wait.
Julien!
No, no, no, shut up.
Greg?
Yeah, no. That felt like a lie even in my own head.
I swallowed, forcing a casual tone.
“That’s like asking a parent to pick their favorite kid.”
Julien raised an eyebrow:
“Oh? So we’re your kids now?”
“Exactly. I love you all equally,” I said, deadpan, grabbing my glass to hide my face.
He stared at me for a second.
Then burst out laughing:
“Bullshit.”
“Absolutely,” I admitted.
He shook his head, still grinning, getting even closer, his massive shlong getting very close to my face.
“Coward.”
Another pause settled in.
I risked a glance.
Bad idea.
His fat head was even harder now, and was leaking so much! Even on the table.
Okay. Focus.
Toast.
Jam.
Bread is safe.
“Anyway,” Julien said while dropping his now empty plate on the table, “as long as you’re not regretting moving in.”
“Not at all,” I said, shaking.
Julien just chuckled low, wrapping a hand around his base, stroking slow to make more pre ooze out, the drop landing wet on my plate's edge, mixing with butter.
“Good. ’Cause we’re keeping you.”
He teased silent, pumping lazy, the head flaring red, pre dribbling steady now, scent sharpening, salty and thick in the air.
I smirked.
“Didn’t realize I had a choice.”
He removed the boxers completely, letting them fall on the ground.
“You don’t.”
I huffed a small laugh, shaking my head.
I’m not gonna resist.
My dick twitched in my shorts, traitorous, mouth watering despite the panic, remembering the stretch, the flood.
“C… can I?”
He smirked wider, jerking faster so pre flew in arcs, one landing warm on my lips.
I licked it off instinct, the bitter tang exploding: salty, musky, fresh from his balls.
And fuck, it broke me.
“Can you what?” the swimmer asked, dominating me. “Slut.”
Surrender hit like a gut punch, the submission flooding hot inside of my belly.
“OK, but be quick,” I whispered defeated, scooting my chair closer, the table edge digging my gut. 'I need to be gone to college at 8 a.m”
“No prob,” His fat cock jolted right in front of me, pulsing with each of his breaths. “But I didn’t hear what you wanted.”
“I want…”
Another jolt. Another drop of pre landing right on my lips.
“Come on, say it.”
“I want…”
Another drop.
The taste is just too much.
“I want to suck your cock.”
“Good girl."
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