3
Remy
I wake up with a long, lazy stretch, arms thrown over my head, back arching off the mattress until my spine pops in that satisfying way.
It’s Saturday, so no alarm blaring at six a.m. for film study or conditioning.
The summer sun is already slicing through the thin curtains, painting gold stripes across my sheets.
Outside the dorm window, students are laughing and shouting, and someone’s blasting music from an open car window in the lot below.
Typical July Saturday morning on campus.
Two missed calls from Hannah stare back at me.
Normally I’d be dialling her back before I even finished yawning, checking in, hearing her voice, and making sure she’s okay.
Today I just… don’t. I set the phone face down on the table with a quiet sigh; I’ll deal with it later.
There’s no real reason I can pin down; I just want the peace a little longer, the quiet in my head, and the space.
I sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I’m only in boxers; it’s too damn hot in summer to sleep with anything else on. Sweat’s already beading along my hairline from the warmth trapped in the room. I run both hands down my face then push to my feet and pad out of my room.
The bathroom is my first stop. I take a long piss, flush, wash my hands under cold water, then splash my face a few times to shake off the last of sleep.
I pat dry with the towel hanging on the hook and catch my reflection in the mirror.
A fresh purple bruise blooms across my ribs, classic practice souvenir.
I didn’t even feel it yesterday; I was running too high on adrenaline from…
well… from him. From the way Cole felt wrapped around me, tight and hot; a grin tugs at my mouth before I can stop it.
I clear my throat hard, shaking the memory loose like it’s something I can just flick away.
Speaking of Cole… he’s usually up by now. I step out of the bathroom and head down the short hall to his door. No noise is coming from the other side.
I knock twice. “Dude, you up?”
Nothing… no groan, no “fuck off,” no rustle of sheets. I roll my eyes. I promised I’d do the grocery shopping this week anyway, he might as well come along and pick out whatever junk he wants.
I grab the handle of Cole’s door and push it open, stepping inside with the casual confidence I had yesterday. One foot in, and the same blinding summer sunlight that woke me slams into me. The light filters through half-drawn curtains, warm and golden, catching dust motes in the air.
My eyes flick straight to him. Cole’s still out cold, sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed, one strong arm thrown over his face to block even that gentle light, the other resting low on his abs.
His fingers twitch faintly, like he’s caught in the middle of some dream.
My gaze betrays me and drifts lower… fuck.
He’s got a massive morning boner tenting the thin sheet that’s barely covering him.
It’s totally normal, happens to every guy, and usually I’d be cracking jokes the second I saw it.
But now… now I know exactly what that dick feels like in my hand, hot and heavy, pulsing while he came apart under me.
I stare for too long, unblinking. My brain short-circuits. Robotically, I step backward, pull the door shut with a soft click, and stand in the hallway like an idiot.
What the hell is wrong with you, Remy? You were chill yesterday, totally chill. Walked out laughing, kicked his leg, talked about lunch and practice like nothing happened. So why does it feel weird this morning?
I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and then I feel it, a hard twitch. I look down… my boxers are tented obscenely. My eyes go wide, and I bolt back into my own room, slamming the door and leaning against it like someone’s chasing me. I stare at the obvious bulge like it personally betrayed me.
Okay… let’s ring Hannah; that’ll fix this, ground me, remind me who I actually want. I snatch my phone off the bed, unlock it, scroll to her contact, and hit call before I can overthink it. It rings twice.
“Hey, baby!” she answers, bright and happy. “Have you only just got up? I tried calling earlier.”
I force a little laugh. “Uhh, yeah, sorry, Han. Guess I needed the lie-in for once.”
She giggles. “Well, I’ve got good news!”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
I glance down, and my dick is going soft, just…
deflating. Panic spikes sharp in my chest. What the fuck?
I got instantly hard for my best friend because I fucked him once, purely for release, but my girlfriend of a whole year starts talking and it’s like my body says nah, I’m out?
I pray when she’s back in close proximity it won’t be a problem.
“So,” she continues, “my mom is stable for now. She’s smiling, the meds seem to be helping, and her nurse is happy for me to resume the rest of the first semester. She’ll call if I need to come back.”
I stop pacing. “You’re coming back?”
“Mhmm! Yep! Isn’t it great?”
I laugh, but it sounds hollow even to me. “Yeah… yeah, absolutely.”
She laughs, sarcastic this time. “Well, I thought you’d be more excited, babe.”
Truth is… so did I. But now I’m wondering why I didn’t call her back the second I saw the missed calls. Why her voice is starting to grate a little. Why I didn’t stay hard for her. I love her, don’t I? Do I?
I try to sound confident. “Yeah, of course I am. Sorry, still waking up.” I even fake a yawn, like I’m still tangled in sheets.
Then I hear Cole’s door creak open, followed by his groggy morning yawn, rough and familiar. It doesn’t annoy me the way it usually does when he’s half-asleep and grumpy. The bathroom door closes a second later.
Hannah’s voice cuts through my spiralling thoughts. “Anyway, I’ll be back on Thursday, okay?”
“That’s great, Han.”
“Can I stay at yours for a few nights?”
I swallow. “I’ll ask Cole.”
She laughs like I’m being ridiculous. “He won’t mind.”
“Well… you know, it’s his parents’ death anniversary coming up, so… he’s a bit emotional.”
He’s not emotional. Cole’s one of the strongest people I know, he keeps his shit locked down tight. I’ve seen him cry exactly twice in fifteen years, and both times he hid it fast. But for some reason, I just threw that out like an excuse to keep her out of the dorm. Which is fucking weird.
“Cole? Cole is emotional?” she repeats, sceptical.
I shrug, even though she can’t see it, and make a vague sound.
“Well, I’ll figure something out,” she says. “Anyway, gotta go. Love you.”
“Yeah, you too.”
“Say it properly.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, throat tight. “I… love you… too.”
She blows kisses down the line and hangs up. Fuck.
I quickly yank on some jeans from the floor, same ones from yesterday, whatever, and grab the first t-shirt hanging over my chair without even glancing at it.
It’s soft, worn-in, smells faintly like laundry detergent and something else familiar.
I don’t think twice. I walk out into the living area slowly, trying to play it casual, like my brain isn’t still short-circuiting from that phone call and the way my body just… betrayed me.
Cole’s already slouched on the couch in nothing but low-slung grey sweats, a bowl of cereal balanced on his abs, crunching with his mouth closed like a civilized person for once.
The TV’s on and he’s halfway through a laugh at something on screen.
He lifts his spoon in a lazy wave without turning his head fully.
I clear my throat. “Morning.”
Cole finally looks over properly, spoon pausing mid-air. His eyes flick down, then back up. “Uh… you wearing my top?”
My eyes go wide. Shit. I look down, yep, it’s his faded black football tee, the one with the tiny rip at the hem from that one brutal tackle in sophomore year.
“Oh, uh… it was just hung over my chair?”
He nods slowly, chewing. “Okay.”
“Do you want me to change?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” But his gaze slides away fast, and he shoves another massive spoonful into his mouth like it’s a shield.
I lean against the counter, trying to act normal. “So… Hannah’s coming back on Thursday.”
I wait for the usual… a smile, “that’s good, man,” or “how’s she doing?” But instead, Cole slows way down, crunching barely moving, like time-lapse in reverse.
He swallows hard. “Oh,” he says. “Cool.”
I laugh, awkward and too loud. “Yeah… she wants to know if she can stay a few nights.”
“What’d you tell her?”
He’s fidgeting with the spoon now, twirling it between his fingers, restless in a way I don’t usually see from him.
I frown. “Well… I told her you’re a bit emotional right now.”
Cole barks a loud laugh, then tilts his head at me, eyes sharp. “Oh really? And she bought that, did she?”
“Not at all,” I admit. “She’ll probably call you at some point. Sorry.”
He smirks, just a little. “And what would you like me to tell her?”
I move to the fridge, pull out a bottle of water, and shrug like it’s nothing. “Whatever you want, man.”
I’m trying so hard to sound chill, to not blurt out the real mess in my head: I need space to figure out why looking at you this morning made me hard in two seconds flat, while talking to my girlfriend made me go soft. Why her voice grated. Why I threw you under the bus with that emotional excuse.
Cole points his spoon right at me. “Well, you seem very excited about your girlfriend’s return.”
The sarcasm drips. Of course he sees right through me, he always has. He knows me better than I know myself sometimes.
I stammer, gesturing vaguely, words scrambling. “No… I’m just… being a respectful roommate. This is your space too.”
He shifts on the couch, turning toward me, voice dropping into something testing, probing. “Well, you missed her so much. I mean… you’ll want some alone time, right? It’s been a whole month since you had sex with her… aren’t you looking forward to that?”
Shit… you know what? I hadn’t even thought about it, not once since yesterday.
Yeah, I was dying for it, desperate enough to beg my best friend to let me fuck him…
but after that release, after waking up and seeing Cole’s morning wood…
no. Sex with Hannah hadn’t crossed my mind.
I pictured cuddles, movie nights, her head on my chest, and breakfast in bed. Not her moaning under me.
Cole clears his throat, pulling me back. “Remy?”
My face is burning. “Dude, I’m not talking about that with you.”
He stands, carries his empty bowl to the sink right next to me. He’s too close, his bare shoulder brushes mine as he leans in to rinse the bowl, body heat radiating off him like a furnace. I keep my eyes fixed straight ahead.
His voice drops low, almost casual. “Maybe I’ll go stay with one of the guys over the weekend. Don’t wanna listen to all of Hannah’s whiny, desperate, high-pitched sex noises.”
That’s not something Cole would ever say.
He’s never once talked shit about her to my face.
He’s testing me. I should snap back, tell him to shut the fuck up, and defend her.
But my eye twitches, and I inhale sharply, because…
yeah. That’s exactly what she sounds like…
needy, almost whiny. And the thought doesn’t turn me on, it just… sits there.
Cole laughs, deep and knowing. “I can’t wait to get laid at this party next weekend. Should be fun.”
My head snaps up. I look dead into his eyes. He’s smirking, smug, like he’s cracked something wide open and he knows it. He knows he’s the reason my brain is glitching, the reason I’m standing here half-hard again just from his proximity and his stupid testing words.
He claps my back once, firm, normal-friend shit, and his voice flips back to easy. “Right, let’s head out, man.”
I swallow thick. “Yep.”