Recap: After breaking up with Ava, Noah finally opened up to his best friend and roommate, Tyler, about the thing that’s been eating at him for a while. He admitted he barely lasts a minute in bed, something that’s been wrecking his confidence. Tyler tried to joke it off at first, but the talk got real, honest, and a little too intimate. Now, with that secret out in the open, Tyler’s in Noah’s room again…saying he’s been thinking about it. He even offered to help. The air between them is tight with curiosity and tension neither of them can ignore.
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(Noah’s POV)
Tyler was still standing in my doorway, hand on the frame like he wasn’t sure if he should come in or not. The light from the hall caught the edge of his jaw, and the look on his face wasn’t teasing anymore.
“So,” he said finally, voice low. “You gonna let me help or not?”
I tried to laugh, but it came out weird. “Help how, man? You gonna coach me from the sidelines?”
He grinned. “Something like that.” Then he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
The sound felt louder than it should’ve.
He sat down on the edge of the bed next to me, close enough that our knees brushed. “I looked it up, by the way. That thing you said.”
“What thing?”
He leaned back a little. “Premature ejaculation,” he said, like it was nothing, like we were talking about a pulled muscle. “Apparently, there’s this thing called the start-stop technique. You learn to stop right before you cum. Train your body, kinda like reps for your cock.”
I groaned, half into my hands. “Jesus Christ, don’t say it like that.”
He laughed quietly. “What? It’s literally what it is.”
“I don’t need a drill sergeant for this,” I said, still trying to sound normal.
“Yeah, but you clearly need practice,” he said. “You said you wanted to fix it. So stop overthinking.”
His voice was calm, easy. Like it was no big deal. But the air between us felt heavier than before.
“I can’t just…”
“You can,” he said, cutting me off. “It’s just you and me. No pressure.”
I looked at him for a long time. He didn’t look away.
And somehow, that made it worse.
“Fine,” I muttered, standing up long enough to tug my shirt off. My skin felt hot, like I’d walked into a trap I’d set for myself.
Tyler’s eyes flicked over me before he caught himself. “Just… focus on breathing, alright? Keep it simple.”
“Simple..,” I repeated under my breath. Right. Simple.
I sat back down, trying not to notice how close he still was. My hands hovered over the waistband of my shorts for what felt like a full minute before I finally pushed them down. The air hit my skin, cool, sharp.
Tyler didn’t say anything. Just shifted a little, eyes steady, pretending to be “professional.”
“Okay,” he said after a second. “Try to last. I’ll time you.”
“You’re actually timing me?”
He shrugged. “Science, bro.”
I rolled my eyes, but my heart was beating too fast.
I started touching myself over my shorts. Slowly. Trying to ignore that Tyler was right there, trying not to care that I was half-hard and shaking a little.
The room was quiet except for my breathing. His eyes kept flicking from my face to my hand.. To my bulge. I could feel it. Every second he looked at me made it harder to focus.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but the sound of his voice slipped through anyway. “You’re too tense,” he murmured. “You gotta relax.”
“Hard to relax when my roommate’s playing sex therapist,” I muttered.
He laughed under his breath. Then the bed shifted.
I opened my eyes. He was closer now. Sitting right next to me, thigh to thigh.
“Maybe you’re too in your head,” he said quietly.
“Maybe this is insane,” I said back, voice unsteady.
He nodded once, slow. “Yeah. Probably.”
Then, after a pause, he said, “Let me show you what I mean.”
Tyler stood up, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and pulled his T-shirt over his head. His body caught the soft light from the lamp, all warm skin and lean muscle. He wasn’t bulky, but his chest and arms had that easy definition that came from years of soccer and hitting the gym.
I didn’t mean to stare, but it was hard not to. Tyler hooked his thumbs into his shorts and tugged them down, leaving just a pair of white boxer briefs that sat low on his hips. The fabric stretched over his bulge that made my mouth go dry.
Tyler caught me looking, just barely, but didn’t comment. He just gave a small shrug, his usual grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You said you wanted to get better, right? So stop overthinking. We’ll just keep it chill. Like training.”
He stepped closer and sat back down on the edge of the bed beside me. The mattress dipped, knees brushing again, closer this time. I could feel the heat off him, smell his skin… smell him..
Tyler’s voice dropped, still casual but slower now. “So… just breathe, yeah? It’s not that deep. I’ll walk you through it.”
He looked straight ahead, like he wasn’t doing anything weird at all. But I could see the pulse in his neck. The air between us felt charged, like something was about to start that neither of us could really undo.
Tyler leaned back slightly, hands resting on his thighs, watching me like he was trying to read what was going on in my head.
“Try to get comfortable,” he said finally, his voice low but easy. “It’s just us, man. Nothing to be awkward or embarrassed about.” He gave that small half-smile of his, the one that always made him look like he was joking even when he wasn’t. “I’ll do it with you so it’s not weird just for you, alright?”
I stared at him, heart thudding. “Fuck, are you sure, man? Tyler… you don’t have to…”
He cut me off with a shake of his head. “Nah, nah. I wanna help you, man. I told you, we’ll figure it out together. No big deal.”
He said it so casually that it almost sounded believable. But my chest was tight. The air felt different now, heavy and slow. Tyler leaned forward just a little, elbows on his knees, eyes steady on mine.
And all I could think was how unreal it felt, sitting almost naked on my bed while my best friend telling me to “get comfortable” and was about to jerk off next to me.
Tyler was still beside me on the bed, leaning back on his hands like this was just another night. The air felt different though, thick and quiet. I could hear the faint buzz of the hallway light through the door, the hum of the ceiling fan, and my own heartbeat.
He looked over at me and said it again, voice calm. “Just us, man. Nothing to be weird about.”
That should have made it easier, but it didn’t. I nodded anyway, pretending like I was chill. My mouth was dry.
Tyler glanced down at himself and then back at me. “Guess we should just get started.”
He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his underwear and pushed them down in one smooth motion. It wasn’t some big dramatic move, just casual. But my breath caught anyway. His body looked strong and familiar but suddenly completely new under the low light. My brain tried to file it away as something normal, like it was just gym locker stuff, but it was not. Not when he was sitting that close, skin warm and bare, muscles flexing slightly as he adjusted.
He grinned like it was no big deal. “There. Now you don’t have to be the only one.”
I hesitated but followed his lead. My hands felt clumsy as I slid my underwear down, trying not to make it weird, which of course made it weirder. My thighs brushed his as I sat back down, and the warmth from his skin made my stomach twist.
“See? Not a big deal,” he said softly, eyes straight ahead. “We’re just figuring it out.”
I nodded again, though I could barely think straight. Tyler shifted slightly, and the movement drew my eyes before I could stop them. His hand was resting on his thigh, close to where he was already starting to get hard.
He noticed, smirked a little, then said, “Alright, so here’s what I read. It’s all about control. You go slow, stay aware, then stop right before you cum. It’s like finding your balance.”
He wrapped his hand around his dick and started to stroke, slow and steady. My throat tightened. The sound of skin against skin filled the small space between us. He was talking through it like a coach, calm and steady. “Pressure matters. You don’t need to go too hard. Just feel it. You’re not chasing it, you’re training it.”
I swallowed, trying to focus on breathing like he said. My own hand moved, awkward at first, trying to follow the same rhythm.
Within seconds my body betrayed me. My breath hitched, and everything tightened. I could feel it coming already, stupid fast. I forced myself to stop, gripping the base, heart pounding.
Tyler’s voice came low and steady. “Good. That’s what you do. Just stop. Breathe. Let it come down.”
He was still jerking his cock, slower now, showing me again. My eyes flicked over him, at the way his abs tightened slightly every time he exhaled. He looked relaxed, completely in control.
I started again. This time I tried to focus on the rhythm. Tyler’s voice helped, soft and even. “Good. Slower. Don’t fight it too much. Just know when to pull back.”
He turned slightly toward me, watching without making it obvious. “You’re doing better than you think,” he said quietly.
That tiny bit of encouragement made me keep going. I could feel the tension building again, heat curling up my spine. I stopped just in time, breathing hard, staring at the wall.
Tyler nodded. “See? That’s it. Just reps for your cock, man.”
He started stroking again beside me, demonstrating the pause and the restart. The quiet rhythm between us started to feel hypnotic. The sound of our breathing synced for a moment, and I didn’t know whether to look away or not.
I could feel his energy, calm and grounded, like this was something he’d done a hundred times. My own body was the opposite, tense and jittery. Every time I glanced at him, it got harder to pretend this was just practice.
Tyler’s voice broke through the noise in my head. “You good?”
I nodded, though it came out like a shaky breath. “Yeah… I just—”
“Don’t think. Just feel,” he said softly.
So I did. I started again, slower, copying his movements. He smiled a little when he saw me match his pace. “There you go.”
The silence between us stretched long and strange. The air smelled like sweat and warmth and something heavier underneath it. Every small sound felt amplified.
Tyler chuckled suddenly. “Dude, you’re concentrating like you’re defusing a bomb.”
I laughed, short and awkward. “Kinda feels like one.”
“Relax,” he said, giving my shoulder a quick nudge. “You got this. It’s supposed to feel good. Don’t fight it.”
That touch made me flinch in a way I didn’t expect. Not from discomfort, but from how gentle it felt.
We went again. Slow strokes. Pause. Breath. Start again. The seconds dragged and blurred. My mind kept flicking between what we were doing and the fact that it was him beside me.
Then I slipped. A tiny misstep in focus, a single pulse too strong, and it rushed back before I could stop it. I groaned, stopping with both hands, chest tight.
Tyler looked over, still moving at his own steady pace. “You close already?”
“Yeah,” I said, voice low.
He laughed softly. “Alright, alright. Take a second. Just breathe. Don’t stress it.”
His tone was easy, patient. The same one he used when I missed a lift at the gym. But now, sitting there, both of us exposed and breathing heavy, it meant something else.
Tyler slowed down, eventually letting go and leaning back again, eyes half-lidded. “See? That’s how you do it. Stop before it gets too much. Simple.”
“Simple,” I echoed, though it didn’t feel simple at all.
The air was thick with something neither of us could name. Tyler looked at me, still half-smiling, half-serious. “You ready to try again?”
I nodded. My hand trembled slightly as I reached down again.
Tyler shifted again, eyes still half-lidded, then said, “You’re overthinking it, man. Here.”
He sat up a little, turning toward me. “Let me show you something.”
Tyler’s hand reached over and I let his fingers brush my thigh first, light and steady, like he was warning me. My whole body went rigid anyway. The air left my lungs when his hand wrapped around my cock.
“Fuck, It feel intense”, I said.
It was instinct to tense up, but he just said, low and even, “Relax, bro. Just breathe. We’re figuring it out.”
My cock twitched hard in his grip, already dripping with precum… on the verge of exploding into streams of cum. The touch felt heavier than it should, deliberate, testing. He started to move slowly, stroking from the base to just below the tip, then back again. My breath hitched every time his thumb brushed the vein along the side.
“Pressure’s good like this?” he asked, watching my face.
I nodded, barely able to get a sound out. “Yeah.. feels really good.”
“Alright. So you wanna stay right on that edge.” His hand worked in slow, controlled motions, stopping just before the sensitivity at the top got too much. “When you feel it coming, stop. Hold it. Breathe. Control it. It’s like keeping your balance.”
My head fell back for a second. Every nerve felt wired. My cock was pulsing against his palm, 6 and a half inches hard, wet with precum and shining in the low light. Precum kept spilling down his fingers, making the strokes sound wet and obscene.
“Good,” he murmured. “You feel that?”
All I could manage was a shaky “Yeah.”
Tyler’s tone stayed calm, almost clinical, like he was explaining a lift. “You don’t wanna chase it. Just know when to pull back. You’re not trying to win. You’re trying to last.”
His thumb rolled over the head of my cock again, slow, deliberate. I gasped, hips jerking before I could stop them. The sound that came out of me didn’t sound like my voice.
“Easy,” he said quietly. “Don’t fight it. Just breathe.”
The rhythm got steadier. He’d stroke, pause, squeeze the tip of my cock, let me breathe, then start stroking me again. The tension built like a slow fire. My body wanted to move, but he kept control, guiding the pace. The air between us felt thick, heavy with sound and heat.
“See? You’re holding it better now,” he said, glancing up at me.
I tried to focus on his voice, but all I could feel was the pulse in my cock, the wet slide of his hand, the tight pull in my gut that kept threatening to break.
He gave another squeeze, firmer this time. “Right there, huh?”
I bit my lip hard and nodded. “Yeah. Aaaah..Fuck— Tyler…”
“Don’t cum yet,” he said quickly. “Hold it. Hold it.. Noah.”
I tried. I really did. But his grip changed just slightly, the kind of shift that sent everything spiraling. My body jerked before I could think.
“Wait—Noah…” he started, but it was too late.
The pressure broke in a white rush. I groaned, eyes squeezing shut, hips lifting off the bed as cum spilled hot across his hands, my stomach, my thighs..... It kept coming, pulse after pulse, until I had to grab his wrist just to stop.
Silence.
The fan buzzed overhead. My heartbeat was loud enough to hear. Tyler’s hand stayed where it was for a second longer, then he let go, rubbing his fingers together before wiping them on my thighs.
“Well,” he said, voice low but calm, “guess we’ll need to practice more.”
I laughed weakly, out of breath, not sure whether to be embarrassed or relieved. My stomach was streaked and sticky, and I could still feel the pulse where his hand had been.
Tyler tossed me the towel. “You did better than I thought, man. You just got ahead of yourself.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, wiping off. My face felt hot.
He leaned back again, resting on his hands like before, looking more relaxed than ever. “Don’t beat yourself up. Happens to everyone. That’s why we practice.”
I nodded, still trying to steady my breathing…my body loose but wired at the same time.
Tyler looked over, eyes softer now. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I said, quieter than I meant to.
He smiled. “Cool.”
He didn’t laugh at me. Didn’t make a joke about it. He just sat next to me, calm and unbothered, like this was the most normal thing in the world. Somehow, that made it worse. And better.
Because now I couldn’t stop thinking about how his hand had felt on my cock.
Or how easy he made it seem.
Tyler finally pushed himself up, stretching a little before reaching for his underwear. He slid them up his thighs and adjusted his cock, casual like he hadn’t just had his hand around my cock a minute ago.
He looked down at me with that same easy grin. “Don’t worry Noah,” he said, voice low and confident. “I’m gonna help you over-cum this.”
I laughed weakly, but he just winked, turning toward the door. The fabric of his underwear hugged his ass perfectly as he walked away, muscles shifting under the soft light.
“Night, bro,” he said over his shoulder, smiling.
Then he disappeared into the hallway, the sound of his door clicking shut leaving me alone with the buzz of the fan, the mess on my stomach, and the thought of how good his hand had felt.
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