Adrien didn’t come out to eat with us.
Dinner ended up feeling… off. Quiet, almost a little sad in a weird way. I sat across from Julien while he enjoyed the dish, glancing at his phone every now and then, replying to messages from his bandmates.
He’d just told me Adrien wasn’t hungry anymore.
At least not right now.
And to save him a portion of the shepherd’s pie, same as for Greg.
“Don’t worry, it happens sometimes,” Julien reassured me. “When he’s overthinking or buried in work.”
I wanted to believe him. Honestly, I did. But the way Adrien had talked to me earlier, how excited he’d been to try my cooking, the way he’d pulled off his shirt and handed it to me like it mattered…
And now he wouldn’t even leave his room.
No matter how much I tried to rationalize it, something still sat heavy in my chest.
So we ate in silence, just the two of us, while the other two plates (set aside for our roommates) cooled on the cutting board. We’d put them in the fridge later.
“Hey, don’t make that face,” Julien said, shooting me a wink that managed to pull a faint smile out of me. “He’s just busy. He’ll try it.”
“I know… I just wish I could be useful to him.”
Julien shrugged.
“You can always go ask him directly if he needs something.”
“What did you tell him, exactly?”
He sighed, like something in him had suddenly shut down.
“It’s complicated. And it’s personal.” He stacked our plates, a quiet signal to drop it.
“You don’t think that’s why he’s staying in?”
“…It probably plays a part,” he admitted. “But I’m not gonna speak for him. That’s his stuff.”
“I get it.”
I didn’t, really. But I figured it had to be serious.
Or at least… messy.
Either way, it only deepened the mystery around Adrien.
I grabbed the stack of plates and headed to the kitchen.
I was about to turn on the tap when a firm hand stopped me:
“Hey, hold up.” Julien’s voice had lost its playful edge. “I’ve got this.”
“Oh, uh…” I blinked, caught off guard. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Go check on Curvy.”
That wasn’t a suggestion.
And honestly, I was happy to oblige.
I stepped away from the sink and headed down the hall, trying to keep quiet. I paused near the bathroom, listening, just in case I could catch something from Adrien’s room.
Then I moved closer.
A voice.
His.
He was on the phone.
And… it was shaking.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
That was the only sentence I clearly caught. The rest was muffled, like he was speaking into fabric, maybe his blanket.
He really sounded shaken.
And hearing his voice like that—fragile, almost—did something to me.
I wanted to be there with him.
That same strange pull I’d felt before, last week, when I’d overheard him on the phone. Probably with his girlfriend.
Was it her again?
Were they arguing?
Part of me wanted to know everything, every detail.
Another part knew I had no right.
Either way, I couldn’t interrupt.
So I waited.
Until I gave up and went back to my room, leaving my door open.
Just in case.
I picked up L’Histoire magazine and tried to read, but my mind kept drifting. Every few minutes, I had the urge to get up and check if he was still on the phone.
I forced myself to stay put.
Eventually, I had an idea.
I grabbed my phone and texted him, just like Julien had suggested:
Steph: “Hey, if you need to talk, I’m here.”
I started typing something else:
Let me know when you want to…
…to cuddle?
God, that sounded ridiculous.
I deleted it.
The first sentence was enough.
Leaning back, I glanced at the groceries I’d dropped near my bed earlier.
The razor. The gel.
Right…
I wasn’t in the head space for that now. But maybe tomorrow, I’d go through with it.
If it made Julien happy.
And… maybe he wouldn’t be the only one.
Greg slept with girls all the time, it probably wouldn’t faze him. And Adrien… I’d seen his ex’s lingerie lying around before. Honestly, I figured I might prefer it too: seeing a smooth ass instead of one covered in manly hair.
It’s not like I’d ever really thought about it before.
I mean… I’d never found a guy’s ass particularly attractive. Not that I could remember. Sure, some were… impressive, I guess, but...
Without thinking, I reached back and ran a hand over my own right cheek, under my boxers.
I did have a pretty solid ass.
Probably from all the walking, the stairs back home (no elevator) and biking, running… and now swimming with Julien on top of that. People always said it worked everything.
Greg definitely had an ass on him. His lower body was ridiculously powerful: those glutes could probably crack walnuts.
…Okay, I was getting sidetracked.
Point is—
The idea of shaving didn’t seem nearly as absurd as it had a few days ago.
A message on the group chat finally snapped me out of my half-focused reading:
Big G: Back in ten. Not alone.
Oh! Greg was bringing someone over?
I thought his usual girl had left.
And then, out of nowhere, I remembered his dirty boxer in my mouth.
Shit.
The laundry.
I’d forgotten to hang it up.
I couldn’t let everything just sit there and go sour. It had probably been in the machine for fifteen minutes, still fine, but not for long.
I rushed into the kitchen, pulling the clothes out of the washer like Greg was about to walk in any second and inspect my work. Which made no sense: I still had time.
Still no news from Adrien.
When I grabbed his damp T-shirt to hang it, I couldn’t help bringing it closer to my face, just for a second. His scent was still there, faint beneath the detergent.
He could’ve at least texted back…
Suddenly, a door opened.
I turned quickly, half-expecting Adrien to step into the living room.
But no, it was the front door.
And there he was.
Greg, filling the doorway with his massive frame. Right behind him, a much smaller figure: his guest.
“Yo,” he said, a bit distant. “Jade, this is Steph. One of the roommates.”
“Hey.” I gave a small nod.
She was stunning.
“Nice to meet you,” she said right away, barely looking at me. “Are we supposed to take our shoes off here?”
“You can keep them on in the living room. Not in my room though,” Greg replied, that usual edge of authority in his voice.
They chatted for a bit. You could tell Jade had never been here, her eyes kept drifting around, taking in the furniture, the posters, the doors… and sometimes landing on me.
“I’m dying of thirst,” she said, dropping her black handbag by the shoe rack. “Didn’t you say you had wine?”
“Yeah. Hang on.”
Greg stepped into the kitchen to grab two glasses, brushing past me as I hung the last of the laundry.
“Want some?” he asked, without looking at me.
“Uh… no thanks.”
He put the second glass back.
He’s not drinking with her?
Now that I thought about it… I’d never actually seen him drink alcohol.
Maybe because of the match coming up.
Greg turned toward me for a second, his focused gaze dropping to my hands as I worked. Of course, his inner supervisor kicked in immediately, checking how I was hanging the clothes like he was inspecting a job site.
“Good. You’re doing it properly.”
“Yeah…” I replied, a bit awkward. “Thanks.”
He pulled a bottle of white wine from the vegetable drawer, grabbed the glasses, and headed back to his room with that same purposeful stride.
Greg clearly didn’t waste time.
Well… at least he brought wine for her.
Yeah… someone’s definitely getting laid tonight.
As I was about to head back to my room, I paused again, almost instinctively, outside Adrien’s door.
There was music playing inside. Soft. Repetitive. It reminded me of that band he’d shown me before : the one with the vaguely German name I couldn’t quite remember.
At least he wasn’t on the phone anymore.
I took a breath and knocked.
Once.
“Adrien?”
A second time, louder.
I heard movement inside.
Fabric shifting.
“Adrien?”
A distant, rough voice answered:
“What?”
“You… you okay?”
Silence.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
“I’m not presentable.”
What did that even mean?
“I don’t care.”
Another silence.
“Look… I need to take a shower,” he finally said.
“Oh… right.” He had mentioned that earlier. “Go ahead.”
I hesitated. His voice didn’t sound right.
Something was off.
So I pushed a little, even if it felt intrusive.
“We can just talk, if you want.”
Silence again.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
A message.
From him.
Adrien: Sorry, I fell asleep earlier. Can we chat here ?
I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling full of glowing stars.
Me: Hey… you sure you’re okay? You sounded kinda off.
I shifted on the mattress, pulling my shirt over my head without really thinking about it. The fabric stuck slightly to my skin before I tossed it aside. My room felt warm… or maybe it was just everything from today catching up to me.
There was a pause.
A long one.
Then:
Adrien: I’m fine. Just tired.
I didn’t buy it.
Me: You don’t have to pretend with me.
I stared at the screen, waiting. Watching those three little dots appear… disappear… come back again.
Finally:
Adrien: I don’t really feel like talking about it.
My chest tightened a bit.
Another message came right after:
Adrien: Or talking much at all, to be honest.
Ouch.
But then—
Adrien: But thanks. For being there.
I let out a slow breath, relaxing a little into my pillow.
Me: Anytime. Seriously.
I ran a hand through my hair, then let it rest on my stomach as I waited.
Adrien: I’m just… not sure about myself right now.
I focused on the screen.
Adrien: About what I feel. About what I want.
I swallowed.
Adrien: I feel really alone, Steph. And I don’t even know why.
That hit harder than I expected.
I shifted again, one arm slipping behind my head.
Me: Hey… you’re not alone.
I hesitated before adding:
Me: Not here. Not with me around.
A pause.
Then:
Adrien: You make it sound simple.
I let out a faint breath through my nose.
Me: It’s not. Just… manageable.
I adjusted my waistband absentmindedly, more to ground myself than anything else.
Me: You don’t have to figure everything out tonight.
Me: It’s okay to just feel like shit sometimes.
Another pause.
Then I added:
Me: Is there anything I can do? Like… anything at all?
Silence.
I stared at the ceiling again.
And then—
BOOM.
I blinked.
A second later, a muffled sound came through the wall.
A voice.
A moan.
I froze for half a second before letting out a quiet breath.
Of course.
Greg.
My phone buzzed again.
Adrien: …you hear that too?
I couldn’t help the small smile pulling at my lips.
Me: Yeah.
I hesitated, then added:
Me: Guess he didn’t waste any time.
Another noise from the other room. Rhythmic this time.
I shook my head slightly.
Adrien: Wow.
I huffed quietly.
Me: Great timing, right?
There was a short pause.
Then:
Adrien: …must be nice.
My smile faded instantly.
The sounds in the background suddenly felt… heavier.
Louder.
I stared at the message for a few seconds before typing again, slower this time.
Me: Hey…
I hesitated.
Me: That’s not what matters.
No answer.
Just the faint, steady noise through the wall.
I pushed myself up slightly on my elbows, focusing on the screen like it mattered more than anything else.
Me: You said you felt alone.
A beat.
Me: You don’t have to be tonight.
I watched the typing bubble appear.
Stay.
Disappear.
And I just waited.
- - -
I heard Adrien’s bedroom door open.
Then footsteps. No, more like uneven, dragging steps. Coming straight toward my bed.
When I turned, I saw his silhouette, slightly unsteady.
He almost tripped over my bag (yeah, the one with the gel and the new razors).
Adrien was wearing a bright red pair of boxers with a white waistband—I was pretty sure I’d seen him wear those before. They suited him.
He moved to sit on the edge of my bed.
And nearly missed it.
“Hey… you okay?”
Once he was finally seated, he shook his head and brought both hands up to his face, like he was trying to hide.
“Sorry…” he muttered, rubbing his eyes slowly. “Can you… let me stay here tonight? I mean—sleep with you?”
“Of course.”
His room was on the same side as Greg’s—he must’ve been hearing everything even louder than I was.
I shifted to the side to make space for him.
He hesitated.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t have the energy to shower.”
“I told you, I don’t care,” I said softly. “It’s fine.”
“You sure?”
I reached out and took his hand. He turned toward me immediately.
“Hey… just lie down.”
He finally leaned forward and stretched out on my bed, his back to me.
“Can we… do it like this tonight?”
Then, a little awkwardly, he scooted back until his ass pressed against me, high on my thighs.
God.
The contact sent heat rushing straight to my head.
Like this…
So I was the big spoon this time?
“I… yeah, that’s fine,” I said, wrapping my left arm slowly around his warm body. “Tell me if I go too far.”
“Do whatever you want.”
Shit.
Whatever I want… really?
Adrien suddenly felt so vulnerable.
And even if he was trying to hide it, I could feel something different in him.
Like that night at the bar.
That same kind of surrender.
And even though I didn’t want to take advantage of him… I could tell that, in some way, it was what he needed.
Maybe he just couldn’t say it out loud.
“Adrien.”
He mumbled something in response, enough to show he was listening to me.
What I whispered to him made his warm body shiver:
“I want to kiss you.”
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