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Chapter 66: Content

Author: Jewella
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-29 19:08:18

Alex~

“That’s it,” he says, soft but sure. “Let me in, Alex.”

I bite my lip hard and squeeze my eyes shut, then open again because I don’t want to miss this. I want to see him, every second of it.

He takes his time, working me open, sliding his thumb in and out of where I’m already throbbing for him.

“Seth, please put me out of my misery,” I’m begging without even realizing.

He reaches for the condom, rolls it on, slicks himself with what’s left of the lube and my whole body locks with anticipation.

“Breathe,” he tells me, steady and grounding. “I’ve got you.”

The blunt press of him makes my eyes roll back. I grab his shoulders and feel my nails biting in, the stretch burning and perfect. Inch by inch, he feeds it to me, rocking shallow, patient, until he’s buried deep.

“Fuck.” I choke out, the word ragged. “Seth.”

He drops his forehead against mine, sweat already slicking his skin, and stays still, giving me time, giving me breath. The ache shifts, sharp to full, full to need. I no
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  • More Than Roommates    Chapter 109: Stipends and Suprises

    Alex~The first thing I notice is the time, because it’s already wrong.Seth is already gone when I wake up, which shouldn’t surprise me because practice mornings have been like this lately, but it still feels strange in my chest. The room holds onto him in pieces the faint citrus of his deodorant, his hoodie slung over the back of the chair instead of hung properly in the closet, the dent in the pillow beside mine that hasn’t smoothed out yet.I lie there longer than I should, staring at the ceiling fan as it ticks around lazily, trying to convince myself I’m rested.I’m not.My phone is face-down on the nightstand. I flip it over and squint at the notifications: three emails, two calendar reminders, a message from the queer collective asking if I can “just tweak the audio mix one more time,” and a low-battery warning because apparently even my phone is tired.I sit up, joints stiff, and drag my laptop closer with my foot.The project opens where I left it.Timeline stacked tight. V

  • More Than Roommates    Chapter 108: Calls 2

    Alex~The kettle’s been screaming for a while before I realize it’s not going to stop on its own.I’m on the floor, back against the couch, laptop balanced on my thighs, staring at the same cut in my timeline I’ve been nudging back and forth for ten minutes without changing anything. When the sound finally cuts through, it feels like it’s calling me out.“Fuck,” I mutter, pushing myself up.The kitchen light is already on. Seth must’ve left it that way when he came in from practice earlier, shoes kicked off too close to the door, gym bag slumped against the wall like it gave up halfway. The place smells faintly like sweat and detergent and whatever cheap soap he uses when he showers too fast.I turn the kettle off and pour the water that has been boiling too long. The mug’s already on the counter. I don’t remember putting it there.Seth’s in the bedroom, door half open. I can hear him moving around, drawers opening and closing, the low thud of something getting dropped and not picked

  • More Than Roommates    Chapter 107: Call him

    AlexSeth doesn’t answer his phone the first time it rings.I don’t notice right away. I’m halfway through trimming audio, headphones on, waveform pulled tight across my screen, when his phone starts vibrating on the desk beside me. Once. Stops. Again.I glance over.Unknown number.I reach for it out of reflex, then stop myself. It’s not my phone. It’s not my place. Seth is in the shower anyway, steam fogging the bathroom mirror, water hammering the pipes like it always does when he takes too long.The phone goes still.I turn back to my screen, tell myself it’s nothing. Spam. One of those automated campus surveys. Anything.Thirty seconds later, it lights up again.Same number.This time I pause the track.“Seth,” I call, raising my voice just enough to cut through the water. “Your phone.”“What?” His voice echoes, distorted. “Who is it?”“I don’t know. Unknown number.”There’s a beat. The water shuts off abruptly.“Can you—” He stops himself. “Just answer it. Put it on speaker.”Th

  • More Than Roommates    Chapter 106: Jordy

    Jordan~ Sleep doesn’t come the way it’s supposed to. I don’t toss and turn, I just lie there, eyes open, listening to the radiator knock like it’s trying to say something and failing. At some point, my phone lights up again. I don’t reach for it right away. When I do, it’s not Alex this time. It’s an email. From: Exhibition Committee Subject: Final-Year Installation Walkthrough Schedule I sit up. The room feels colder instantly, like my body noticed before my brain did. I open it. Dates. Time slots. My name listed second from the top, right under someone whose work has been in two galleries already. Walkthrough: Mandatory. I read it twice, then a third time slower. This isn’t feedback. This isn’t suggestion. This is presentation. I swing my legs out of bed and stand there for a moment, phone still in my hand, grounding myself in the fact that the floor is solid and I’m not about to fall through it. I cross the room and open my laptop again. The

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  • More Than Roommates    Chapter 104: drag

    I wake up alone. Not the empty kind. Not the sharp, disorienting kind where my chest tightens before I’m fully conscious. Just quiet. Seth’s side of the bed is already neat. Not hotel-made, not precise, but pulled together in the way he does when he’s leaving early and doesn’t want to come back to chaos. His pillow is propped against the headboard, his hoodie folded over the chair instead of tossed where it usually ends up. The room smells like citrus and fabric softener and that faint trace of his deodorant that never quite disappears. For a second, I lie there anyway, eyes half-closed, letting my body catch up. Letting it register the absence without reacting to it. My arm stretches out automatically, fingers brushing cool sheets where his warmth has already faded. Then I notice the desk. Something is different. I push myself upright and squint toward it, still foggy. There’s a basket sitting right in the middle, like it’s always been there and I just forgot. Small, wo

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