Roommates With Benefits [BL]

•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•

Eventually, we made our way to the bed, the mattress sagging a bit under our combined weight as we sank down together.

It still felt soft and a little unsteady after everything we’d just shared.

The lamp on the desk cast a warm, golden glow throughout the small dorm room, painting the walls in a soft amber hue and catching the remnants of tears on my cheeks.

Neither of us reached for the light switch. There was no rush to go sleep, it was only five pm.

I kept stealing glances at Damien, almost as if I wanted to memorize him all over again...the dark sweep of his eyelashes, that little crease between his brows that never seemed to vanish, even when he was calm.

His mouth looked softer than usual after all those fierce, desperate kisses.

The words "I love you" were still ringing in my ears, looping around and overlapping until they felt almost tangible, like something I could grab hold of.

He had said them back...over and over, against my mouth, rough but certain. That felt more unbelievable than anything else that had happened tonight.

I edged closer on the narrow mattress, then closer still, until I was half in his lap, one knee braced beside his hip. My hands found the front of his shirt almost instinctively.

Then I kissed him, deeper and more purposeful than those soft, trembling kisses we’d shared after the confession.

This one was full of you-know-what intent...

When he pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, I could feel the heat creeping up my neck and blooming in my cheeks.

"I don’t really want to sleep just yet," I mumbled, the words barely escaping against the corner of his mouth.

His voice was low and warm, making something inside me relax. "What do you want to do then, Sunshine?"

I gave him a small, nervous smile, a little too exposed in the quiet of the room.

"Why don’t I show you?"

With a gentle, clumsy push, I nudged him onto his back and climbed fully into his lap, knees framing his hips.

I was straddling him now, face-to-face, the warm glow of the lamp wrapping everything in gold.

I took my time, starting with lingering kisses that began soft before deepening, pressing our foreheads together whenever I needed a moment to catch my breath.

A few quiet, almost shy "I love you," slipped out against his mouth, and each time, Damien’s grip on my hips tightened a bit like he was holding onto something precious.

At first, my hands felt clumsy.

I fumbled with the hem of his shirt, my fingers trembling as I pushed the fabric up over his toned stomach and chest.

The soft sound of cotton brushing against his skin felt louder than it should have.

I hesitated when I reached his waistband, suddenly aware that this felt different, more significant than all those frantic, teasing, fuckery moments we’d shared before.

Damien noticed but didn’t rush me.

He rested his palms on my thighs, stroking slow circles with his thumbs, letting me take the lead while his gaze remained soft and dark, full of wonder.

"You’re shaking," he murmured, his voice rough.

"I know." I let out a quiet, embarrassed laugh and hid my face in the side of his neck for a second.

It was my first time after all...

I’m kidding, it was actually my first time doing it with someone I had confessed my love to.

I had never felt so vulnerable before, but I didn’t hate the feeling as much as I thought I would.

The scent of him, warm skin, slight laundry soap, and the lingering heat of the evening...filled my lungs.

He gently tilted my chin back up with his fingers, making me meet his eyes.

"Look at me," he said softly. "I’ve got you, alright?"

After that, the clothes came off slowly.

He whispered. "We’re going to take this at your pace."

His shirt first, then mine, the fabric snagging on my elbow and causing us both to smile.

Then came the pants, accompanied by soft laughter as I got tangled trying to shove his down without fully climbing off him.

Finally, when I was nude above him, a fresh wave of shyness hit me.

I started to look away, but Damien’s gaze was open and reverent rather than merely hungry, and somehow that made it even harder to look away.

He watched me as if he didn’t want to miss a single expression, as if every little shift of my face mattered.

Eventually, we ended up with me completely straddling him, both of us bare, the heat of his skin against mine almost dizzying.

I rocked against his bulge with slow and measured movements, feeling the slick drag of our bodies melding together.

Every shift of my hips sent a warm pulse through my cock...wet and already leaking.

His hands traveled up my back, fingers spreading wide, then into my hair, cradling the base of my skull.

I traced the contours of his chest and abdomen, feeling his muscles jump under my touch, his breath hitching every time I rolled my hips just a little more firmly.

We kept kissing and whispering I love you between breaths, as if we still couldn’t believe we were allowed to say it and be loved right back.

"I love you," I moaned against his lips.

"Oliver..." His voice caught, quiet and almost broken. "I love you...I love you, baby."

The soft, slick rhythm we shared made my thighs tremble.

The heat built low and steady, feeling different from the sharp urgency we usually chased.

This was deeper, more profound. It felt like every movement carried the weight of the words we had finally uttered.

I realized, in a distant way, that this was the first time it truly felt like making love instead of just sex, like the physical connection was just a surface to something much larger underneath.

Damien’s hands never left me.

One stayed gently on my hip, guiding me, while the other moved soothingly up and down my spine.

I pulled out a lube and slicked my fingers with it, then reached behind me to stretch myself.

I obviously couldn’t do it as well as Damien’s expert fucking fingers...but I sure as hell would try!

"That’s it, just like that. You’re doing so well." His free hand cupped my cheek, keeping my gaze locked on his. "I love you...breathe for me."

When I leaned down to press our foreheads together again, he met me halfway, his eyes heavy-lidded and impossibly soft.

"You okay?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

I nodded, then shook my head, then nodded again as I fucked my fingers.

"A little overwhelmed, in a g–good way. It doesn’t feel like just sex anymore."

But then again, it never did.

But this was time I knew it really wasn’t.

Relief, tenderness, and a raw ache flickered across his face. "It’s not, not for me either."