Everyone is over the age of 18
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I begged my folks for a single room in college. Being a homo, I couldn't imagine rooming with some straight guy in close quarters.
They said no, obviously. It was a couple thousand in difference for the private room. It's part of the experience, they said.
What ended up happening was the best case scenario. He is straight, but George is rarely there. He isn’t loud, and he isn't gross. When he is there, he has his big headphones over his chaotic dark brown hair. Everything he owns is either black, brown, dark green or a combination of those colours. It isn’t hard to visually separate our things.
I see him sometimes on campus with his friends. I don't know the term to describe them. Maybe alternative? A lot of them have tattoos, and funky colours in their hair. They all wear mostly black. The main thing that ties their group together though, is the big skunk cloud above their heads.
George always has red eyes. Otherwise, they are hazel. Not that you can see them most of the time because of those heavy bangs on his forehead. And to be honest, like I said, he really is never in the room.
I'm a light sleeper, and so for the first week I woke up whenever he did slip back into our room. It was always past midnight, and he was always in a deep slumber a minute after getting into bed.
So, I said in the beginning that I'm gay and I wanted a private room. One of the reasons I wanted that was because college is a time for experimenting and I knew my chances of getting any were going to be slim with a dorm mate. But since the universe so kindly gifted me a smoker roommate, it worked out nicely to have guys over.
That was most of what I did when I got off from classes. I'd be texting guys during the day of course, but I knew I had around 8-12 to finalize something. You know, right after dinner and right before George came back. The story I'm about to tell you happened right around 9, when I was waiting for some DL straight guy to show up.
George came in, and his eyes (yes, they were red) were wide open in bewilderment.
“Jaden, dude, I fucked up. Oh man, I really fucked up.”
“What?” I watch him sit down on his bed. When he brushes his thick bangs back, I can see he's actually kinda handsome. It's just all covered by the dark brown, almost black, hair.
He looked kinda terrified. I half wondered if some angry pot dealer was going to burst through our door.
“I need the room to myself.”
“Why? I have some…a friend coming over,” I say.
“Who is it? No, you can’t, dude. I need to be here.” George adjusts his baggy clothes as his hazel eyes shine through the red veins.
“What is happening?” I ask, watching him fidget nervously. Is he … going through some kind of bad trip?
“You can't tell anyone, ok? Fuck. Like nobody,” he says.
“Tell anyone what?”
This is probably the most we've spoken since we moved in. And maybe like the first time I got a real look at his face. His skin is really pale compared to his dark hair.
“You know the RA, Jake?” George starts, still pulling at his black pants. “I was in his room asking for a new light bulb.”
“Oh yeah.” One of the bulbs has been dead for the last couple days but it didn't really occur to me to fix it.
“He had a couple pills on his desk.” George swallows nervously. “I thought they were for parties so I took one.”
“What the fuck?”
It was fucked up, but I was kinda getting invested in his story now. I even texted the DL guy quickly to hold up on coming over.
“I don't think it was a party pill,” George says.
“What was it then?” I try to understand.
“It was blue.” That, with a little tug on his loose pants triggers a memory of seeing that same blue pill at home on my pop’s nightstand.
“Ah.”
“Yeah,” George takes off his shoes. “I was waiting for something to kick in… and then it kicked in, dude. Majorly.” His black hoodie came off after, and I realize I have never seen him without it. He's kind of a little beefcake, with arms that fill out the armholes of his graphic t-shirt. “So can I have the room tonight?” he asks.
“Oh yeah… sure. I'll go um… I'll find somewhere.” I blink hard and look around for my things.
“Thanks, dude. I owe you one.” He sighs in relief. As I collect my wallet and keys, George makes a wincing sound as he unbuckles his dark pants.
Shockingly, given his almost entirely black outfit, his underwear is dark red with comic book characters on it.
Oh wow. His cock drenched the middle of it, making the shape of the head really obvious. It looks cut, from the way the mushroom head juts out of the briefs. His legs are twice the size of his arms, and just as pale as his face.
“Oh fuck…” George mutters to himself as he kicks off his pants. Then, he reaches under his bed, and I chortle as he pulls out a fleshlight. Of course. “You're going to want to hurry up if you don't want to see this.”
He peels down his tight briefs almost with surgical precision, like he's scared of what he's going to find underneath. His mouth opens as his painfully hard cock is freed.
Cut.
Uniformally thick all around.
Curving to the left.
“Oh my god,” George groans as he grips the base, and his cock drools a thick translucent goop of precum. “Sorry, man. It couldn't stay in anymore.”
“Yeah, no problem.” I stare at the way he squeezes nature’s lube out of the head. A goony blissful look spreads on his face as he rubs it into his palm. “Have… fun.”
It looks really hard right now. Crack a head open kind of hard.
“Thanks, dude.” He holds his rock-hard cock in one hand as he reaches under the bed again. His fingers resurface with a small bottle. “Fuck!” My roommate shakes the lube violently and squeezes it so hard that it crushes the tube. “God damn it.”
Two drops come out and land on the top of his fist.
“Oh fuck…” He leans back and then drops flat on his back onto the bed. His thick thighs and feet stay planted on the floor, and I get a view of just his girthy cut dick getting stroked all the way. The way his stomach pokes out from the bottom of his shirt is really…
…really hot…
“Ah…ah…” I make my way to the door while my roommate has his eyes closed, lost in the cloud of being to relieve his induced boner. “Ah…fuck…” His palm passing his mushroom head makes him grimace in the best way.
Alright, time to go. I find it hard to look away, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome, even if it is my room too.
“Wait, Jaden.” George holds his tool still while opening his eyes at me.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have any lube? For the …” His other hand pats the bed until he finds his fleshlight.
“I'm more of a spit and shine kind of guy,” I explain. I could tell the lube had dried on him from the way his hand is no longer gliding.
George sits up, and looks down at his cock. It’s the part of him with the most colour.
“My mouth is dry,” he says. “Can you help me out?”