“I’m Not ‘One of the Guys’.” My Roommate Finally Gets It Through His Head.

I’m sipping my morning coffee when Nate shuffles in, bleary-eyed and still half-asleep.

“Morning Cam,” he mutters vaguely, making a beeline for the fridge where his stash of cold brew awaits. My heart flutters in spite of his general state– hair sticking up in all directions, wearing a t-shirt and some grey sweatpants, big shadows under his eyes.

“Rough night?”

“Long,” he grunts. “Debbie flaked again.”

“Ouch.”

I’d been getting the saga of Debbie secondhand all summer– a new hire at his job who seemed to miss work more often than she made it. Unfortunately, Nate had immediately developed a huge crush on her and was helping cover for her absences so she wouldn’t get in hot water.

He’s sweet like that. A little dumb sometimes, but sweet. What can you do?

“You’re up early if you had to pull extra time last night.”

Nate makes a vague noise that could mean anything, glancing at the clock on the wall which currently reads 10:18.

“Got a date for lunch,” he finally says after taking a long swig directly out of his cold brew bottle.

“Oh?” I’m surprised at the lance of jealousy that pierces through me– Nate and I had never been a thing, had never even talked about being a thing, but as the whole drama with Debbie played out I could tell I was falling for him, little by little. He was just so devoted to her even though she was totally leading him on that it made me wonder what it would be like if he had someone that was into him.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I fully realized I’d cast myself in that role, imagining that I was the one he brought coffee for at the start of every shift, the one he wouldn’t stop talking about, the one he woke up early to go on lunch dates with.

“Yeah,” Nate rumbles, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Some girl from Reddit. I took your advice; I’m trying to make Debbie jealous when I tell her later.”

I can’t quite hide my wince at his words. It’s true I had told him that he should try seeing someone else, but I hadn’t meant that he should just string someone along.

“That’s… kind of a dick move, just going on a date with someone to make someone else jealous. Feels like you’re just wasting her time.”

Nate looks over to me, a protein bar halfway between wrapper and his mouth.

“You were the one who suggested it!”

“No, I said you should actually date other people, not pretend to date them just to make a girl who clearly isn’t interested in you jealous.”

He blinks, his expression going vacant for a second.

“Oh, right– I guess it was Harry who told me about the jealousy thing.”

“Harry?! Why the fuck would you take dating advice from Harry, the perpetually-single man whose idea of flirting is sending three dozen DMs at three in the morning and then wondering why he’s blocked by the time the sun comes up?”

To his credit, Nate at least has the good grace to look abashed.

“I guess I was just– going with what the guys recommended.”

I feel my eyes just about pop out of my skull.

“I’m sorry, the guys?”

“Yeah– y’know– you, Harry, Mike, James…”

“Nate…” I can feel the frustration inside me building. “You do know, I’m not a guy, right?”

Nate blinks. My sharp tone has his eyes widening as he realizes what he’s just walked into.

“I know you’re not, Cameron,” he says, emphasizing my full name. “I just–”

“I am not ‘one of the guys’, ok?!

“Ok, ok,” he says, holding his hand up in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry Cam, it won’t happen again.”

I can tell he’s truly apologetic, but I’m not done with him yet, not when he looks so cute with his sandy hair all messed up like that and his deep blue eyes wide with concern.

In a flash I have a little debate with myself.

Is this the moment? What if I freak him out?

Fuck it, let’s go.

“I’m not a boy!” I yell out, startling Nate with my intensity. “You frickin’ doofus!”

Even more startling to him though is when I yank up the black hoodie I’m wearing.

There’s nothing underneath.

Nothing except my bare skin, goosebumps already starting to form in the chilly air of our apartment, made worse by the sudden silence between us as his eyes fixate on my chest.

I hear a clatter as the can of cold brew hits the ground, rolling under one of the cabinets. Neither of us look at the trail of liquid on the floor.

“I, um…” Nate stammers. “I think I might need to cancel that date.”

“That,” I whisper, letting the hoodie fall back into place,” Is the first good idea you’ve had all day.”

He moves toward me like a man in a dream, his steps unhurried and off-center. I stand from the barstool where I’d been perched all morning, rising to meet him.

Our lips come together tentatively at first, exploring each others’ as though one or both of us might vanish at any time. But when neither of us do, when in fact both of us pull the other in closer, reality crashes back in and suddenly whatever we’re doing, it’s not enough.

Not nearly enough.

Nate doesn’t resist when I pull his shirt off, my hands running across his bare chest now, fingers curling in the hairs there. His mouth moves down my neck, all the way to the collar of my hoodie, which he pulls to the side to get at even more of me. His lips are hot on my skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

Up close, he smells like coffee and fading cologne and something more natural than that even, a musk that I’ve been dreaming about for weeks now. His lips are rough on that smoothness, a friction that makes the hairs on my arms stand at attention as he kisses his way down my body.

“God, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”

Nate growls in response, lifting me by the hips up onto the kitchen table.

“Not as long as I’ve been wanting to do this…”

He pulls my shorts down in a single motion.

I’m not wearing anything under them either.

He growls again, in approval this time, spreading my legs as I’m laid out on the table for him, a feast beyond his wildest imagination.

His tongue caresses my thigh, teeth nibbling at the part of me that has ached for so many nights thinking about him. He hums approval as he feels the wetness between my legs. My thighs shake as his mouth goes to work, moving slowly but steadily up and down my pussy, sighing with pleasure with each new taste of me. My fingers are in his hair, alternately guiding him to new places to explore and clenching when he does explore them, his mouth making me see stars in the ceiling of our apartment.

“Nate…” My voice is broken, shattered by his touch. “Let me feel you.”

His body shifts. I feel the muscles under his skin tensing as he moves. My fingers make their way to his stomach, following the flat line of it down, down, down to where close-trimmed hair is the harbinger of something more, something that fills my hand with thickness and heat.

He grunts as I move my palm over him, my thumb circling the width of his head. I look up into his eyes, watching him watch me.

“And how long have you been dreaming about doing this?”

“Not long enough,” he says, his voice shaking with the intensity of my touch. “Not long enough to even come close to imagining how good it would feel…”

I melt into him, hips rising to meet the granite shaft between my fingers. He presses into me, fixing one deep ache inside me by causing another, an ache that makes me feel as though I’m being stretched from the inside out.

Inch after inch after inch of him disappears into me. I take it all, even as it drives the breath from my lungs. My hands go to his back, gripping the wide muscles of his shoulders, urging him on. The table rattles underneath us as he moves inside me, his thrusts scooting us across the floor a quarter-inch at a time until the edge of the table bumps against the refrigerator, making it shake just as much as I am.

“Deeper,” I urge him, needing to feel him all the way inside me now, the need building up in my body demanding release. He lifts my legs up to his shoulders, his muscles taut against my skin. My mouth falls open as the change in angle makes his cock hit just the spot I need caressed again and again. I can barely keep my eyes open as the sensations wash over me.

“So good…” I hear Nate whisper in awe. “So fucking good…”

I want to respond but my mouth isn’t working. My stomach, my arms, my chest– all of it is frozen, held in place by the same pressure that is throbbing between my legs, a pressure that fills me and binds me as my body prepares to shatter itself around Nate.

He groans as I clench down hard around him, holding him inside me as both body and mind snap together. It feels like I’m made of a thousand thousand snowflakes all scattering in different directions, refracting the light that pulses from deep inside me.

I fill the kitchen with his name as I feel him releasing inside me, filling me. I grab on to anything of his I can hold, pulling him down to kiss him, my legs folding over my head as he leans in. I taste myself on his lips as his cock twitches a final few times. Slowly he keeps going, working his seed into me. He knows I’m on the pill– he’s seen it on the counter often enough– and so with his cock still almost fully hard he fucks me slowly now, kissing me slowly and thoroughly as he does, until the aftershocks of my orgasm become the precursor to another one, one that builds from my clit outward, driven by the friction of his pelvis on mine.

I don’t cry out this time– I simply pull him even closer as his arms wrap around me, half-lifting me off the table. One hand runs through my hair, massaging the back of my head as he tugs at my lip, rocking my body through the secondary climax until I am utterly spent.

The kitchen is a mess. Coffee has spilled all over the floor and whatever was on the table has joined it, pushed to the side in our haste. Nate and I both look around guiltily at the same time, laughing nervously, then laughing even harder when we realize there’s no one there to tell us to clean up, no one to get on our case about being so messy.

No one to stop us from ignoring that mess completely and moving this– whatever this is– to somewhere more comfortable either.

He and I realize it at the same time. His eyes burn with a question; mine flare with an answer.

He doesn’t say anything, just scoops me up, his cock still inside me, and carries me out of the kitchen and to his bedroom.

By the time we get there I feel him twitching inside me again.

“You sure you want to miss your date?” I tease him as he lays me on the bed.

He rolls his eyes, but he does find his phone, firing off a quick message. He may be a doofus, but he’s my doofus now.

“Good. Now come show me that you really understand I’m not one of the guys.”

He smirks and the heat in the room rises by a few degrees.

I could get used to this, I decide as he walks toward me, his gaze hungry again already.

I could definitely get used to this…