Arthur woke early and stumbled his way into the kitchen to make coffee. It was already light outside, and the window shades were fully open, letting in a blinding light. Oscar, his roommate, was already at the counter, powering through a plate of egg whites with a vacant look of exhaustion. As Arthur ground the beans, they both said nothing and gave no sign that the other existed, as was their custom. After six months, Arthur had given up that particular fight.
Arthur took his coffee into the living room, and drank in silence until it was almost time to go. After four years, it was his last month of the last semester of his college life. There was already so much to think about. Job interviews, loan repayments, where he'd be moving once he was out of the student housing...
It had already been a long week, and he was feeling exhausted. One of Oscar's girls had been over earlier in the week. He had taken her up against their shared wall and it sounded like he nearly took her through it. He had hardly slept at all that day. At least the girls never stayed long, and they rarely returned. In his next place, he would be opting for thicker walls or quieter roommates.
The lights of the bathroom flicked off as he was finishing the thought, dreaming of high walls and wide windows to let in the light. Oscar closed the door behind him as he slipped inside, leaving them in the pitch black together. He wrapped one muscular arm around Arthur's waist, and used the other to tug Arthur's gym shorts down to his thighs. With easy strength, Oscar lifted him away from the bathroom vanity, turned, and set him down against the wall.
Oscar's quickening breaths were the only sounds to be heard. With one hand, he cupped a handful of Arthur's sac, and his body leaned hard against him. With the other hand, he gripped Arthur's cock tight. Then, after a few more panted breaths, he began to tug. Soon, he was pounding away furiously, and his hips pumped against Arthur's naked ass, desperate with need. Arthur felt the thick cock growing beneath Oscar's pants, and he gripped his ass hard around it, stroking it, building the need. When Arthur finally came, Oscar held him tight, kissed the back of his neck, and pulled until every last drop had been spilled down the tiles of their wall Then he slipped out of the room, and back into the morning light.
This was their other custom: Never when there was a hint of light, and never to be spoken of.
At first, he thought Oscar might have been sleepwalking. When they had first met, it had only taken a few words for them to see they weren't going to be friends. After that, they'd both made the effort to never spend too much time in the same room together. So, when he opened the door to Arthur's bedroom one night, not bothering to knock, not saying a word, Arthur was sure something odd was going on. But Oscar had his lips around his cock before he could even ask what was going on.
Arthur had felt the powerful arms around his hips, and the tight lips that stroked against the edges of the head of his cock. It hadn't taken any time at all before he felt his load spilling out of him, right down the back of Oscar's gulping throat. They writhed and rolled together in Arthur's bed, as Oscar eagerly sucked down every last drop.
It could have been sleepwalking. There certainly wasn't a better explanation for it. Oscar didn't mention it again, and made no sign that anything had changed. They ignored each other just the same as they always had. Only now, Oscar sometimes slipped into his bed and drained his cock.
Then it began happening during the day. One Monday morning, the lights had suddenly been switched off in the bathroom, and there was Oscar, dropping to his knees, and pulling Arthur's pants down to his ankles. A moment later and Oscar was dragging his tongue across his asshole again and again for nearly an hour, both of them lost in the pleasure of it. When Oscar slipped a finger in two knuckles deep, Arthur finally couldn't take it. His body crumpled and he soaked the cabinets in long sprays of sticky white jets of cum. He could hear Oscar licking the drops up a moment later with a desperate hunger.
So, sleepwalking was out.
More than anything, they simply left too much evidence. If Oscar had been sleepingwalking or in a daze, he was well past the point of overlooking it. Firstly, at least one night a week, Oscar would fall asleep on top of him. And then, after a few weeks of taking it in his mouth, Oscar appeared in the doorway with ties wrapped around his wrists, and guided Arthur to latch them around the bedposts. Once he was on his belly and secured down tight, Arthur stripped him, and found the base of the smallest little butt plug in existence already buried inside the man.
Something about having this big, lumbering jock held down tight, with the most timid of sex toys eased inside, needing more, but so ashamed... It something off, and Arthur didn't let him go easily. He pounded into him like he was meat, the rim of Oscar's virgin ass gripping with all its strength, squeezing futility against him, unable to stretch any further.
Arthur used him hard. And, when he heard the moaning pleasure coming from beneath him, and Oscar began pumping backward, trying to speed him along, Arthur pulled out. With one cupped hand, Arthur slapped his ass raw with all his strength, again and again, until the man settled backed down onto his belly, whimpering, knowing his place. Only then did Arthur mount him again, pumping hard until he finished. It was his first time inside a man, and he twisted at pulled at Oscar's body until he couldn't bury himself any deeper.
For awhile after that, Oscar needed it nightly. He would follow Arthur into the shower, tug him from behind until he'd nearly finished, and then stop, refusing to move a muscle or say a word. When Arthur went limp again, his fist would be right back in place, pumping away, the water on Arthur's body spraying hard droplets across his face from the force of the impact. He'd build into a frenzy, and then Oscar would be on all fours in bed, ready to take every drop of that pent up need that there was to give.
A new girl would come over, and things would go quiet. Back to the rare bit of small talk, the occasional head nod of acknowledged existence, the organization of grocery runs. One of those time, Oscar had suddenly come home with a cucumber the size of Arthur's wrist. It was ten in the morning, but the shades went down, and the lights went off. Soon, Oscar was on his back, his knees tight against his chest, and Arthur was pumping the poor cucumber into him like he was churning butter, as deep as he could go. Oscar rarely came himself, but this time he did it in long, howling cries, the hot jets of sperm soaking the pelt of fur that ran up his belly.
Arthur knew one thing for certain: Oscar never made a sound like that when his girls came over. Because Oscar needed to be used. He wanted to be taken. He wanted to be a little cum slut. Arthur was more than happy to oblige.
After a few months of this, it was finally Arthur's time to take the initiative. He opened Oscar's door in the night while the man was falling asleep, kneeled across his face, and fed him his cock. When he was close, Arthur held the headboard, and pumped deep into the man's throat, listening to him gag around it. He took his time and, when he came, he pulled out just in time to finish across Oscar's face. He wiped himself on the man's sheets, tossed them to the floor, and left.
Not long after, it became a routine for Oscar's shower to be interrupted with the lights out, his feet kicked apart, and a command to reach down and grab his ankles. After a few days, Arthur didn't even need to the words, and Oscar would hear the door and get into position.
Sometimes, when the girls came over and passed out, Oscar would creep by quietly in the night. His hands would wrap around Arthur's cock, and he would bob his mouth up and down the shaft until he could drink down what he really needed.
Then, with college life finally winding down, there was a new girl there. They passed the time inside their room, and for the first time in weeks, Oscar never appeared to provide his service afterward. She was otherwise nothing of note until, after another day had passed, there was the girl again, nodding hello as she passed by his door, disappearing once more into Oscar's room. This time, Arthur heard that wild, bellowing moan, loud enough to wake the dead. And Arthur felt, for the first time, the first hints of jealousy.
It was absurd, of course. There was nothing between them except physical need. But... it had felt good to be the only one in the world capable of making him feel like that. Of satisfying his secret desires. And now he had found someone who could play with his ass just as well. With the last days of school wrapping up, it looked like it was the end of everything. It made him far more melancholy than he would have guessed a few months earlier.
