The walk back from the pool felt strangely quiet.
The evening air was warm, almost heavy, clinging to my still-damp skin. Chlorine lingered on me, sharp and clean, but on Julien it was even stronger, like it had soaked into him permanently. He walked fast, hands in his pockets, shoulders loose but purposeful, like this pace was just… normal for him.
Crap ! Slow down fucker.
I had to keep up with him, this dude was so fast !
For a while, neither of us said anything. Just the sound of our footsteps on the pavement, the distant hum of traffic, and the occasional drip of water from my hair onto my t-shirt.
Then Julien broke the silence:
“So,” he said, glancing sideways at me, “you’re going to our concert Saturday, right?”
I blinked, a bit caught off guard:
“Yeah… yeah, I’ll go see Greg too in the afternoon.”
“Cool.” He answered, rubbing his fingers together.
“You stressed?”
A little laugh escaped him:
“I mean… yeah. A bit. Of course. We’re playing in a cool place too.”
I nodded:
“What kind of stuff do you play again?” I asked, curious. “You mentioned it once but I don’t remember.”
“Grunge, mostly,” He said. “Kinda aggressive. Singer’s great, honestly. So much energy.”
I smirked:
“Sounds intense.”
“It is,” he admitted. “Lots of distortion, heavy riffs… but still melodic in a way.”
“Any bands that inspired you?”
He hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “I’m not writing any of the music. But I guess it’s a mix. Bruno would tell you better, but he’s a huge fan of Alice in chains. Some more recent stuff too. We try not to copy too much, but you know… it’s there.”
I nodded again:
“Think you’ll be ready?” I asked.
He scratched the back of his neck:
“Uh… yeah. I mean—sort of.”
I didn’t say anything, just waited.
He sighed:
“We’ve had a bit of a slump. Last rehearsals have been… weird.”
“How long?”
“Couple of weeks.”
I didn’t push further, but I felt it—that slight tension under the surface. Like I knew there was more to it, and maybe there was. Maybe he just didn’t feel like unpacking it right now.
We walked a few more steps before he spoke again.
“So,” he said, more casually now, “you think you’re ready to go a bit further?”
I frowned. “Further… how?”
He glanced at me again, a small grin forming. “Shaving.”
I almost stumbled.
“At least the back for now,” he added. “Would make things… cleaner.”
I looked away, suddenly very aware of myself.
“And you should keep training too,” he continued. “With the toy I gave you. Take your time with it tomorrow. Get used to it properly.”
There was something firm in the way he said it, not quite an order, but close enough.
I hesitated.
Part of me wanted to push back, to laugh it off, to say it was getting a bit much.
But another part of me, the one that had been growing louder these past few days—just… didn’t.
“Okay,” I said finally, quietly.
Julien’s grin widened just a bit.
“Good.”
We turned the corner that led to our street.
“I’ll go grab some groceries anyway,” I added, trying to sound casual. “I’ll pick up some razors while I’m at it.”
“Perfect,” he said. “Let’s go there together then!”
And just like that, he picked up his pace again, already a few steps ahead of me.
I followed.
- - -
Julien sent a message in the group chat asking if anyone needed anything while we were walking into the little grocery store near our place. I headed straight for the produce section, starting to fill my bag, already picturing what I could cook over the next few days.
I had to admit, there was something really satisfying about that moment—planning meals for the week ahead. But ever since I’d moved in, I’d also started thinking about cooking for the others.
An idea hit me.
“Hey, Julien?”
“Yeah?” he replied, popping his head out from between two stacks of chips in the next aisle.
“You like shepherd’s pie?”
It didn’t take more than a second for him to light up.
“Dude, hell yeah! Who doesn’t like that?”
“Alright, good. Then if I make some tonight—”
“Oh, I’m definitely in. Just tell me what you need.”
Julien was insanely efficient when it came to grabbing ingredients. We even had to add butter and cream after Greg messaged the group saying we were out—somehow, the rugby guy always knew exactly what was left in the fridge.
Once we’d grabbed the nutmeg, Julien motioned for me to follow him toward a quieter shelf, a bit off to the side.
“Look, razors.”
Gulp.
Here we go again.
“You really care about that, huh?”
“Yep. And I’m telling you, you’re gonna love how it feels,” he said with a grin, giving me a quick, suggestive pat. “You got any left?”
“You’re right… I needed new ones anyway,” I admitted, grabbing a pack of disposable razors. “You think these will work for… that area too?”
“Dude, as long as you take your time and use a mirror, you’ll be fine. I do my balls with those, so…” he added casually, already walking ahead.
I lingered a bit, looking at the options—men’s, women’s (of course the pink ones)—thinking it took some serious confidence in a blade to use it down there.
Should I shave the front too?
Julien hadn’t said anything about that.
Then again, he’d never shown much interest in it. He was always focused on… the back. So I figured it probably didn’t matter to him.
Well… I guess that settled it.
I was definitely the “bottom” in this whole thing, if I used the terms I knew from gay culture.
Same with Greg, more or less—though he cared less about how I maintained myself or how I did things.
And then… there was Adrien.
That was different.
No clear dynamic. No expectations like that.
I wasn’t even sure he wanted anything beyond “cuddling,” like he said.
I got lost in those thoughts while wandering through the hygiene aisle, eyes drifting over the shelves, until I suddenly bumped into Julien, who had stopped right in the middle of the aisle, holding something in his hand.
“Oh—here. This’ll help.”
BACKDOOR GEL
EXTRA COMFORT
WATER & SILICONE BASED
It took me a second to process what I was looking at, still pretty clueless about that kind of stuff.
“It’s way better than just water or that lube we used before,” he added.
I took the bottle, glancing around as if I could somehow understand more just by looking at it. The ingredients seemed simple enough.
I quickly slipped it into the bag, not wanting to draw attention—and that’s when I saw Julien grab a dark blue box.
Condoms.
“Hmm… might as well restock,” he muttered. “At least for you.”
You can imagine how fast my face heated up.
Holy shit.
I caught a glimpse of “XL” on the box before he casually tossed it into my bag.
I mean, at least he's not taking a larger size just to impress me.
I know how much he's packing down there.
“I think we’re good,” he said with a wink. “Time to check out.”
Shopping with that damn swimmer was a whole experience on its own.
Everything felt like a game to him. He couldn’t help himself, always finding an excuse to crack a joke, step into my personal space, casually put a hand on my ass even with other people around…
It was fun, exciting, embarrassing, and honestly, a bit overwhelming.
Perfect example: when it was time to scan the lube and condoms.
I don’t even want to imagine what my face looked like (completely red) as the cashier gave us a slightly surprised look.
Julien, of course, was totally relaxed.
“You coming, Steph? We splitting it?”
“Uh… yeah, sure.”
“And we’ll post the expenses in the group so it stays updated.”
I nodded, moving to the other side of the register to grab the scanned items, still flustered.
It felt like everyone in the store was staring at me, even though I knew they weren’t.
“What’s wrong? You’re all red,” Julien teased, before turning to the cashier. “Sorry about him, he’s a bit shy.”
My god, I swear...
I can’t with this guy!
- - -
I used the momentum from unpacking the groceries to throw in a load of laundry. Julien had quickly shut himself in his room, saying he’d let the others know I was cooking and that they could join us.
I had something else to take care of first.
I went to my room and grabbed Greg’s dirty boxer, still lying next to my bed, hidden under my own from the day before. I bundled it up with a few clothes lying around and headed for the machine.
If I didn’t do it now, Greg might bring it up later.
And I really didn’t want to get on his bad side, especially with that match coming up on
Saturday. He already seemed on edge.
I glanced around. The kitchen and living room were empty.
Yeah…
I'll take advantage of it one last time.
I brought the dirty boxer to my face and took a deep breath.
Greg’s cum had dried into a thick, crusty layer inside the pouch, like it had hardened overnight, changing texture again between yesterday and today.
Almost… fascinating.
I’d never really paid attention to that kind of thing before. I was like doing some lab experiment with semen and tissue.
And the smell—
Stronger than before.
Just breathing it in triggered an immediate reaction in my own underwear, even though I’d already come in the locker room barely an hour ago with Julien.
Not wanting to get caught mid-act again, I didn’t linger. I tossed everything into the drum, noticing there was still some space left.
And that’s when I got an idea.
I checked the group chat. Greg and Adrien had both replied to Julien’s dinner message:
Big G: “Getting back late. Practice. Leave me a portion in the fridge.”
Curvy: “Sounds great! Can’t wait to try it.”
Instead of typing something that might take a while, I just walked over and knocked.
Adrien’s door.
- - -
I paused for a second, ear close to the wood (yeah, I know, not great) but I wanted to check if he was there first.
It was so quite I thought he wasn't home yet, but I got an immediate answer when I knocked:
“Yeah?”
“It’s Steph.”
“Oh… come in.”
I stepped into his room, still just as warm and inviting as before.
Adrien was sitting on his bed, reading a thick book, looked like something about brain tissue, judging by the diagrams on the cover. He looked up at me, eyes bright.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing much. You good?”
“Yeah. Really good, actually. Slept great last night.” He smiled, genuine. “I wonder why.”
Heat rushed straight to my face.
“Well… you’ve got a good mattress,” I muttered, a little awkward.
He chuckled softly.
“Yeah… but I think it was more you, honestly. Thanks again.”
Damn.
Butterflies.
Right in my stomach.
“I... I was actually wondering if you had any laundry to throw in. There’s still room.”
“Oh—uh…” He glanced around, then checked a small wicker chest, probably where he kept his dirty clothes. “I don’t think I’ve got much.”
He pulled out a pair of black socks and a shirt.
“That it?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
And then…
I don’t know what came over me.
Maybe Julien’s influence. Maybe something else. But the idea just… slipped out.
“Uh… what if you gave me what you’re wearing?”
He blinked, clearly surprised, one eyebrow lifting as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Right now?”
“You could just give me the top, if you want.”
“Hm.” A faint grin. “You just like seeing me shirtless, don’t you?”
Before I could answer, he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up, slowly.
Every line of his torso came into view. Strong abs, broad chest…
I was getting a full show.
He handed me the shirt, smiling.
“It’s hot anyway. You’re right. Here.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking it carefully, like it was something fragile. “I’ll throw it in.”
“Thanks, Steph.”
He went back to his book.
At the door, I hesitated, then went for it.
“Hey… uh… tonight. You wanna do a… like yesterday?”
I barely got the words out before he answered:
“Of course. After my shower, but yeah, come by whenever.”
Gulp.
This was starting to feel like a routine.
And honestly… it was exciting.
Who knows, maybe tonight I’d take things a little further?
- - -
Making shepherd’s pie isn’t exactly rocket science. Mashed potatoes, ground meat, sauce: it’s pretty straightforward.
What’s less straightforward is doing it with a half-hard swimmer pressed up behind you, wearing nothing but a tight boxer that barely hides anything.
Julien hadn’t been able to stay in his room. While the washing machine hummed and the stovetop crackled, he hovered over my shoulder.
“You’ve got a ton of cool recipes, man. Total Cordon Bleu.”
“Honestly, it’s nothing complicated.”
“You’re a great roommate, you know that?” His hand landed on my ass again, just like at the store, clearly a habit. “A real gem.”
He stepped closer behind me, close enough that I could feel the pulse of his cock against my right cheek.
And then:
BRRRT
“…What now?”
That definitely wasn’t him.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Still half-distracted, lazily kneading my ass, he checked the screen—and I felt the shift immediately.
“Ah, shit.”
His hand dropped.
“What is it?” I asked, suddenly a little tense, still stirring the sauce.
“Mm… nothing serious. But I need to talk to Curvy about it.”
“Oh?”
Just like that, he went from playful to serious.
And then he was gone.
Left me alone in the kitchen, a faint trail of cool, chlorinated air in his wake.
I heard him knock somewhere down the hall. A door opened. Closed softly.
Whatever was going on… it mattered.
I could hear it in his voice.
I just hoped it wasn’t bad news for Adrien.
He already carried enough weight as it was.
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