by Jack Woolf
"I just met him," he whispered to himself.
"Hey, you," someone pulled him out of his thoughts.
Oliver glared upward and saw two guys staring down at him with their hoods pulled low over their heads. The glare left his face and immediately, he started thinking of ways to get away from these creeps. Putting his hands up, Oliver eyed both assailants and took deep breaths to calm his beating heart.
"Give us your wallet. And your phone," the other guy said, pulling out a knife and pointing it at Oliver. The medium-sized blade gleamed in the dark. Oliver tried not to show fear. He nodded and carefully reached for his wallet in his back pocket. It didn't even cross his mind to call or scream for help, knowing how dangerous his situation was.
"Hurry up!" the other guy said, kicking him at his feet. Oliver flinched and almost cursed, but he tried to remain calm and composed, his hand going to his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. He was reaching for his phone when he heard a familiar voice. But the voice was angry.
“What the hell is going on here?” Owen shouted.
“Beat it,” one of the muggers said.
Oliver’s eyes widened at the sight of Owen. His roommate’s phone was jammed to his ear as Owen began to talk to someone on the other end of the line.
“Hi, campus police? I’d like to report a robbery in progress.”
Owen’s voice was calm and strong. He glanced at a street sign and gave the police the address. He was still on the phone when sirens could be heard in the distance. They were getting louder. Suddenly Oliver saw the red and blue flashing lights of a police car fast approaching.
"Shit, it's the cops," the two thieves cursed, running away.
Owen rushed toward Oliver and helped him up from the bench. "I was looking everywhere for you,” he said.
Two police officers scrambled out of the patrol car. One of the officers came over to check on them while the other one ran after the two robbers. It didn't take long before he caught one of them, the other running free and never looking back—until a backup officer caught him a few blocks away.
"We're going to need your statement," the officer said, directed at Oliver. A little dumbfounded by the situation, Oliver just nodded and followed the officer to his patrol car, the lights still flashing.
"I'll come with," Owen said, hand reaching for Oliver's shoulder and squeezing lightly. It comforted Oliver a little to know that he wasn't going to be alone. The police officer asked a few questions and jotted down notes on a clipboard.
Owen stuck by Oliver's side, a quiet but comforting presence. He didn't hold Oliver's hand or pat him on the back while whispering how good he was. He just stood there and it was enough.
“Do you two need a lift back to the dorms?” the officer asked.
“Thanks,” Owen flashed a smile. “We’ll be fine on foot.”
When the officers left, Owen offered to buy Oliver a snack to make him feel better. Unsure of something to say or do, Oliver nodded. They stopped by a 24-hour place, bought some sandwiches and ate on the walk back to the dorm.
"You wanna go back to the party?" Owen asked, throwing away the empty sandwich wrapper.
Still a little shaken, Oliver thought it wouldn't hurt to be surrounded by people. He quietly nodded and followed Owen. As if afraid Oliver would get lost again, Owen pulled Oliver close, rested his arm on his shoulder and led the way back.
The party had separated into two groups, the dancers on the roof while the ones who wanted to be more cozy settled for the largest room on the floor below it. Owen pulled him to the one in the largest room. It was more for couples than anything else, with most of them rolling their bodies against each other and making out in every dark corner.
They stopped in the open space in the room filled with people dancing along to the music. Owen did his best to cheer up Oliver, pulling all the weird dance moves he could do in the open space. It made not only Oliver laugh but the crowd around them as well. They danced freely and comically allowing Oliver the chance to find reprieve before becoming too tired by the whole thing.
After grabbing some drinks, they settled in the free room and lay down on the bed, side by side, their bottles of beer half empty.
"You okay?" asked Owen.
"Yeah, I am now. Thanks."
Owen chuckled and nudged Oliver by the shoulder. "You can always count on me." Owen turned on his side and looked at Oliver, smiling down at him. Oliver did the same and returned the smile. Oliver didn't know if it was the beer or the sheen on Owen's lips but he pushed himself right up against Owen, allowing their lips to meet for the second time that night.
Owen quickly returned the kiss, dropping his bottle in favor of holding Oliver. Oliver moaned in between kisses, lips frantic and hot against each other. Owen's hot and hard body felt different but good against his own and he couldn't help the need to press closer, feel it better. His hands moved with a mind of their own, hands going under Owen's shirt to feel the dips of his abs. It felt good in his hands, smooth and hard, but so hot.
Owen moaned as Oliver's hand curled around his pec. Oliver couldn't help it, he had to grind down against Owen, needed some form of friction on his growing arousal. He cursed, pulling away from the kiss as his body discovered a new sensation. He continued swirling his hips against Owen, now aided by Owen's hands, pushing him closer. He could almost feel Owen's own erection, growing a tent in his khaki shorts.
He was this close to pulling off Owen's sweater, ready to tear it apart when the door opened and a low whistle could be heard. A guy and girl were standing at the door.
"Sorry," the couple both muttered, closing the door and leaving them alone once more. But the deed was done. It brought Oliver back to reality, to the truth that he'd tried so hard to avoid.
"Sorry," Oliver echoed, pulling himself away despite his body's screams of no no no. "Sorry," he said again when he was seated a meter apart from Owen. He couldn't look at Owen's face, but he could faintly hear the disappointment in his voice when he said, "It's fine."
A minute later they found themselves out of the party and back on the street. Owen walked ahead and Oliver was sure it was so there was some distance between them. He could almost tell that after all the dancing and kissing, this was the moment where things really fell apart. He sighed at the thought and just walked back to the dorm.
VI.
The heavy atmosphere between them refused to dissipate, with Owen keeping silent even as he changed out of his party clothes to something more appropriate for bed. Oliver sneaked glances every once in a while and sighed once more when Owen went straight to bed, pulling his blankets up to his shoulder.
Oliver didn't know what he wanted, but it obviously wasn't this awkwardness. He wanted to fix things but he didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure about how he felt. He just—he needed to be sure of things before he spoke again, he told himself. He took off his clothes and pulled on a comfortable pair of basketball shorts.
He didn't bother saying goodnight to Owen. He didn't want to be ignored when he did. It was better this way, with nothing said between them, with nothing concrete that could potentially break their barely-a-day-old friendship. Oliver shook his head and went to bed. He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep, but at least he could do his thinking while on a comfortable mattress and pillow.
He tossed and turned for a while before closing his eyes. It painted him a clearer picture of the events of the day, of his growing attraction and of the obvious chemistry between them. But it was odd that he would feel this way. He had never been attracted to another man before and although it felt wonderful being with Owen, it didn't make sense to Oliver.
But feelings don't need to make sense, a quiet thought passed through his mind. Oliver opened his eyes and found himself facing Owen's bed. He didn't know where that thought came from but it felt right, it felt like the answer he was looking for. But it wasn't enough. He shook his head and turned away from Owen once more.
Just because feelings didn't
need to make sense didn't mean Oliver couldn't make sense out of them. Oliver took a deep breath and thought about the question that he'd been trying to avoid. Was it even okay for him to be liking a man? And the answer wasn't that far behind.
Oliver didn't know a lot of gay people, but if he were to ask them and their friends, he knew they would tell him it was okay to feel this way. And the more he thought about the people who fought for their rights and the things they stood for, the more his thoughts cleared, the clearer the answers became.
And then Owen's words from that morning came back to him.
"I think you should decide with your heart rather than your head."
Before he could change his mind again, Oliver jumped out of bed and bounded over to Owen. It didn't even occur to him that his roommate had already gone to sleep. He shook Owen awake and the man looked at him groggily.
"Oliver?"
"I like you," Oliver said. "I like you and I don't really know how this works, but is it okay if we give it a try?"
"What?"
Oliver looked sheepish. He honestly didn't want to repeat what he'd said. It was already too much with his heart pounding and his blood still rushing in his ears. Owen seemed to notice as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
"I mean, wait, I just. Let me wake up a little first." Owen sat up on his bed and urged Oliver to sit down. "Did you say you like me?"
Oliver nodded, and if it was a little too enthusiastic, he tried not to think too much about it. Owen smiled and heaved a heavy sigh.
"That's good to know ’cause I like you too." Owen smiled and the only reason Oliver could see it was because of the white that suddenly glowed in the dark. "But as much as I'd want to do a lot right now, I'm exhausted. Do you mind if we sleep first?"
Oliver chuckled. "No, yeah, we should sleep."
"Come here," Owen muttered, pulling Oliver into his arms. It felt weird, mostly because he didn't expect Owen to pull him into his bed. Once they settled comfortably on the twin-sized mattress, Oliver found that it wasn't too bad.
Owen held him gently, enough that Oliver knew Owen would let him go if he left. It made Oliver smile that Owen would give him that much space. He pressed himself closer and took a deep breath. When he closed his eyes, Oliver didn't think sleep would come so easily to him, but it did.
The next morning, Oliver woke up to warmth and sunlight. He blinked a couple of times to find himself face to face with a wall of tan skin. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was Owen's chest. When he realized that, thoughts of last night came back to him. He smiled when he remembered because everything finally made sense.
Owen groaned, his arm that was slung over Oliver's waist, tightened, pressing him closer to Owen. Oliver smiled at Owen's unconscious need to keep him close. He watched Owen blink a couple of times and then smile down at him.
"Oh," he said. "So it wasn't a dream." He chuckled to himself for a while before planting a soft kiss at the top of Oliver's head. "Thought it was a dream," he muttered through Oliver's tresses.
"I feel like it's a dream," Oliver commented, chuckling to himself.
"So what do you want to do now?" Owen asked.
Oliver shrugged. "I don't know. I—I've never been with another guy so I'm not sure."
"Wanna take it slow then? I don't mind, you know, waiting."
"Yeah, can we? Just, let me get used to the idea first if possible."
"Sure." Owen tightened his hold on Oliver and Oliver sighed, feeling content. He was all comfortable when his cock pressed against Owen's thigh. He bit his lip at the contact.
"Although," Oliver started. "Can we—is it okay if we start doing—you know?"
Owen chuckled, the vibrations reaching Oliver. "You're gonna have to be clearer than that. What're you trying to say?"
Oliver sighed and leaned his forehead on Owen's shoulder, not wanting to face him. "Can we do other stuff that isn't anal sex?"
At this, Owen laughed, loud and echoing in their tiny room. It took awhile for him to calm down and it only increased Oliver's embarrassment. He was so close to jumping out of bed and out of the room because of it.
When Owen calmed down, he urged Oliver to stop hiding his face. "It's a perfectly reasonable request, in my opinion. I was just surprised, is all."
Oliver glared at Owen before sighing. "So? What do you say?"
Owen smirked and pushed Oliver down, caging him in between the bed and his body. "I'm always up for making my boyfriend feel good."
VII.
Owen winked at him and before Oliver could even be flustered about it, Owen captured his lips in a heated kiss. Oliver moaned and wrapped his arms around his now-boyfriend, smiling into the kiss and pulling Owen closer. It was better than the ones they shared yesterday. Today, Oliver knew why he was doing it and what exactly it was that he felt. Owen held him close and rocked his hips slowly against Oliver.
It pulled a groan out of Oliver, having to pull away from the kiss. Owen peppered kisses down his jaw and onto his neck, his hands busy feeling Oliver up and down, fingers roaming around every dip and curve of Oliver's body.
Owen's fingers were hot on his body, leaving trails of fire wherever they went; they particularly liked his abs, fingernails scratching slightly before palming the ridges.
"You're so fucking hot," Owen whispered by his ear, biting the cartilage and causing a particularly hard shudder course through Oliver's body.
"You're pretty hot yourself," Oliver complimented, lips pressing against Owen's collarbone and hand pushing up his shirt to reveal his equally sculpted stomach. When Oliver raked his fingernails through the hair at the top of Owen's shorts, Owen retaliated by flicking his nipples, causing Oliver to bite his lip.
Owen chuckled at the expression before holding Oliver down, bringing his hands up and over his head and holding him by the wrist. He smirked and kept his eyes on Oliver, lips going down to press a kiss down his throat. He pushed Oliver's shirt up to expose his skin and continued his torturous kiss, turning from soft presses to open mouthed lip locks.
Oliver bit his lip at the sight of Owen, so focused on giving him pleasure. When Owen reached the garter of his shorts, Owen looked up and locked eyes with him. He made sure that Oliver only had his eyes on him, that they were open and could only see him. He licked his lips before slowly pulling on the shorts, tugging them down to reveal Oliver's semi-hard cock. Oliver was glad he skipped the boxers last night.
Owen took one second to smile at Oliver's cock before meeting Oliver's eyes once more. He held it gently in his hands, bring the head to his lips before pressing a soft kiss to it. Oliver could feel himself twitch not only at the sight but also at the action. Owen smirked at the reaction but didn't savor it. Instead, he pressed more kisses to Oliver's cock, stroking the base until Oliver was so hard he needed more.
"Please," Oliver pleaded. "Do something."
Owen chuckled but complied, mouthing at Oliver's cockhead and making out with it, opening his mouth and darting out his tongue every once in a while. "Shit," Oliver said, watching Owen with his mouth working wonders on his dick. Owen hummed, causing vibrations to envelop parts of his length. When Owen finally had enough of teasing Oliver, he opened his mouth and sucked on Oliver's head.
Oliver couldn't help it, the pleasure made him close his eyes, white lights exploding behind his eyelids at the sensation. He didn't know how Owen did it, but Oliver had never felt something like it before. Owen sucked and licked the head and then took more of him in. Oliver was sure that every time Owen stopped and hollowed his cheeks in for a few seconds that he wouldn't be able to take more. He was proven wrong when he opened his eyes and saw that Owen took the last inch of him, nose buried in the curls of brunette at the base of his cock. He didn't know how he wasn't coming yet.
Owen hollowed his cheeks before pulling back, spitting on Oliver's cock and coating it around his hardened length. Oliver moaned at the pleasure building up. Owen smiled at the look on his face, stroking him a few more tim
es before he took him in his mouth again. He alternated between taking him in deep and then taking half of him in his mouth and the other half in his hand. It was the greatest blowjob he'd ever gotten.
Oliver closed his eyes and laid back on the bed, wanting—needing to come. "...so close," he muttered, almost a plea.
Owen mumbled something, but with Oliver's cock in his mouth, it came out incomprehensible. The action, however, sent new waves of pleasure all over Oliver's dick, making him moan and thrusting up in Owen's mouth and hand.
