More Than Roommates

Alex~

“Miss, miss. I think you drop your purse.”

I grimace under my hoodie but turn around to acknowledge the lady who speaks. She is short, just as short as I am, and has kind eyes — eyes that don’t quite work well enough to tell that I’m a guy.

“Er, it’s a man bag. Not a purse.”

Her recoil is devastating and satisfactory. I bend to pick up my now torn bag and check the hook that attaches it to my messenger bag — and find it broken.

“Great, just everything works out as planned.” I groan, resuming my walk.

The day is an absolute mess. First, I have a hard time locating my new apartment, the one I am lucky enough to find over the holidays after weeks of relentless searching.

The guy who is to be my new roommate can’t give good enough directions to help me out, so with two bags too big for my lanky frame, I labor under the scorch of the sun to find the apartment.

Thank heavens for small mercies. He isn’t around when I arrive, so his first impression of me isn’t a thin wimp who looks like a drenched goat.

Taking advantage of his absence, I put myself in order. Pretty easy task since he already cleans up the house to the teeth. He is super neat, and the place smells great — that’s amazing since it means keeping a clean house won’t cause problems.

I step out for lunch because I haven’t gotten groceries and plan on grocery shopping with my girlfriend Claire when the weekend comes around. And now, my favorite bag just eats some dust.

The surroundings of my new apartment are serene, away from all the noise of the city and pretty close to school. Christ knows I could do without the endless treks every school morning.

I get back to my apartment and decide to take a nap on the couch, dressed up and all. I fall asleep hoping I will be up in time to welcome my new roommate and rank how smart he is by a simple conversation.

I wake up to someone stroking me — minimal pressure but great pleasure. My hips, of their own accord, rise up to match the strokes before I remember myself.

“You’re so eager one would think I haven’t been satisfying all your needs,” a baritone voice calls out huskily, waking me up completely from my slumber.

The living room is dark with the only source of light the half-open window blinds — and there is a man stroking my cock.

I have never been faster in my life to get off the couch.

“What the fuck?” I yell, moving out of reach in search of my phone.

Where is my fucking phone? I yell internally, rummaging through my bag on the center table.

“Hey Leo, chill.” The voice speaks and every fiber of my body does everything but chill. The stops on their ends, pulsating, vibrating…

“I’m not fucking Leo, I’m your roommate.”

The light flicks on to reveal my roommate in all his glory.

Buff with veined arms and a left arm filled with a tattoo sleeve, in a singlet and basketball shorts that have rent where his legs meet. A result of him strolling another man’s cock. Mine twitches in response to my thoughts.

“Hey man, I’m so sorry. Didn’t realize you were the one. I thought you were Leo, my off and on fuck bud who has a spare key.” He says calmly, like he is trying to get an angry bull to realize he is making sense.

“Apparently, or you would not have stroked me. Dude, I have a girlfriend…” I deadpan, irritation flowing through my entire being. “…and I’m straight.” I feel the need to clarify, just in case he and Leo are over and he decides I will be the next best thing to move on to.

I don’t do men, I am into girls and I just land my first girlfriend and I am not about to screw that up.

A laugh escapes his lips as he lifts both his hands in surrender.

“Never said you weren’t. I’m bi myself, love asses in both sexes to be precise.”

At his words, I color, embarrassingly so since I am supposed to show him that I am every bit of a man just like he is.

I walk closer ignoring how frequently his eyes flicker to my zipper and stretch out a palm to my roommate.

“I’m Alex.”

Once again, I feel myself flush. My name is as feminine as any female’s name, and that is not good for me.

“Hey Alex. I’m Seth.” He takes my palm and gives me a rough jerk that brings my knees to the couch.

Something shines in his eyes and I block out my thoughts from trying to process it.

Seth and I won’t last the semester — and without a fight or two, I can tell.

“Never do that again,” I warn.

“Why not?”

He is exasperating.

“Look bro,” I say ignoring his shot-up brows. “My girl’s coming over this evening to see the place and everything. I know you say you swing both ways, I would really appreciate if you turn down the charm a notch or two okay?” I say getting off the couch and setting myself right.

He watches me intently, making me suddenly self-aware.

“Why? You think I’m hot?”

He asks bending to retrieve something from the floor. I immediately avert my eyes.

“No. I mean, yeah, you’re attractive, like… dude you’re hot. You know it.”

He suddenly stands with a basketball in hand and tosses it to me. I catch it, nearly missing it, and toss it back with all my strength and he catches it like it’s paper. I sigh.

“I think you’re hot yourself. I totally want to stroke your cock again.”

I cringe outwardly at his words.

“Stop that dude, I’m not…”

“Gay, I know. Calm down, I’m just teasing your balls.”

My stupid mind mentally recalls his hands over me and I internally crumble.

“Thanks,” I say in a small voice, immediately turning away and walking toward my room. My room which I unfortunately share with him.

My girlfriend Tracey comes over that evening. I’m the only one in the living room so I go to welcome her while Seth prepares dinner.

It’s his ‘I apologize for being myself’ meal, as he calls it.

“Hey babeee,” Tracey greets cheerfully as I open the door to her smiling face, jeans low on her hips, Henley clinging to her figure.

“Hey you,” I say.

She chirps unintelligibly and jumps into my arms, planting a kiss on my smiling lips.

“Get a fucking bedroom you guys,” Seth says from the background.

Didn’t I beg this man?

“Oh my God, is that Seth?” Tracey says, pulling away. She moves past me like I’m invisible, heading straight for him.

I stiffen. I don’t ask how she knows him. I just pray she isn’t one of the notches on his bedpost.