My name is Ryan Larose and I had just come out of a terrible breakup, only to dive straight into a screaming match with my father. The topics never change—"Why can't you like girls?" or "Why can't you control your damn temper?" It's exhausting.
Honestly, I just wanted to forget it all. So here I was, sitting in class, bored and brooding, when I glanced at the guy who always sat next to me—the shyest, nerdiest guy on campus. Lucius Everhart.
Even now, his head was down, scribbling notes with quiet focus. Thick black-rimmed glasses slipped down his nose, dark hair falling over his forehead and partially hiding his face. Handsome, really handsome.
Taller than me, broader too, though he hides it all under baggy clothes, always awkward, always shy.
He hardly speaks; when he does, it's deep, too deep. That voice—it gets under my skin in ways I can't explain. We've sat together since the first semester, barely exchanging ten words. I guess nobody wants to sit with a troublemaker like me, except him.
When I asked him why, he just looked away and muttered, "You're quiet, don't disturb me while I solve questions."
Fair enough—I am mostly busy sleeping in class.
Maybe that's why he feels comfortable. Or maybe it's because of the one time some guys were picking on him for reading in the playground and for being too nerdy, and I happened to step in.
Maybe he thinks I'm cool, well, that works for me. I'm always cool.
I lazily rested my face on my palm and called, "Lucius." His pen paused mid-scribble.
After a beat, he slowly turned toward me, eyes peeking from beneath his dark hair, fixed entirely on me.
I spun my pen between my fingers and said calmly, "Sleep with me."
The pen slipped from his fingers. His eyes widened, lips parting slightly, his face flushing red—redder than my hair, even the back of his palm dusted with pink. He quickly looked away, as if trying to process what he'd just heard.
"Yes, you heard right," I continued. "Sleep with me. That's today, after classes, at my place."
His eyes went even wider. "Huh, what?"
"What? Is that a no?" I teased. He stammered, trembling fingers gripping his pen.
"No, no, I—I mean, it's just...so sudden."
I smirked. "You're cute." I scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. His body stiffened, head lowered, not daring to meet my gaze.
"Now give me an honest, proper answer. Yes or no." I rested my chin lightly on his shoulder. He swallowed hard, hesitating.
"Hurry, sweetie. Do you want to sleep with me or not?"
My voice rose slightly, drawing a glance from a guy sitting ahead.
"What? Want to join too?" I said, narrowing my eyes. The guy immediately turned away, probably mortified.
Lucius finally replied, his voice low, hesitant, almost as if speaking took effort—but full of quiet longing. "Yes."
I chuckled. "Really, couldn't add any extra words?" He shrank further into himself.
I laughed softly, tilting his chin up to face me. "Fine. After class, my place. Got it?" His throat bobbed as he gave a slow, deliberate nod, still avoiding my eyes.
As soon as class ended, I saw Lucius sitting there—nervous, fidgety, hesitant—but still waiting, as if unsure he could really go through with it.
I grinned and led him to my red, sharp motorcycle. "Come here," I said, hopping on and grabbing a helmet. His eyes went wide, like he'd never seen a bike—or ridden one—before.
Honestly, it was adorable.
I pulled him close and carefully placed the helmet on his head, adjusting the straps. Then I tapped the glass, winking. "Can you see?"
Under the helmet, his flushed, shy face peeked at me, eyes wide and slightly dizzy from the excitement.
"Hop on now," I said, strapping on my own helmet. He nodded, hesitating before climbing on behind me. His hands hovered uncertainly, unsure where to place them.
I took his hands and slipped them around my waist. "Hold me tight. We're going wild now."
With that, I fired up the engine. In a heartbeat, we were off. The rush of wind and speed made him cling to me like his life depended on it. I laughed into the helmet, feeling him tighten his grip with every twist and turn, heart racing—both from the ride and the tension simmering between us.
We stepped into my apartment, and Lucius immediately froze, glancing around nervously before looking back at me, as if waiting for permission just to breathe.
"Stop being so awkward. Am I that scary or something?" I asked, but he didn't reply.
"Just be yourself," I said, gesturing to the couch.
"Sit down." He nodded and, like a perfect little robot, eased onto the couch, hands gripping his knees tightly, eyes cast downward.
"Are you just going to sit there?" I tilted my head, smirking.
Still nothing.
"Fine, I'll take charge myself then." I reached forward without hesitation, gently removing his hands from their grip and climbing onto his lap.
Our bodies pressed together, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tilting his chin up to meet my eyes. He froze, shivering, eyes wide, heart hammering so loud I could almost hear it. "This, this...I—" he muttered, incoherent.
"Shh, be a good boy," I murmured, pressing my lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. His eyes went wide, mind short-circuiting under the sensation.
Within seconds, I was teasing his lips gently, exploring, and when I took his trembling hands and guided them under my shirt, his fingers quivered against my warm skin.
"Stop being so shy already," I whispered, breaking the kiss just enough to look into his eyes.
My face was relaxed, confident, teasing. His a mess of shyness, desire, and uncertainty—all tangled together. There was need in his gaze, raw and undeniable, but hidden beneath layers of awkwardness and hesitation.
I tapped the tip of his nose a few times, our faces dangerously close. "I'm literally handing myself to you… why aren't you taking charge already?" I whispered, teasing. "Am I not attractive enough?"
For the first time, he spoke immediately, his voice low and shaking. "N-no, it's not like that. You're really, attractive. Really, handsome," he muttered, as if me doubting myself wounded his pride.
I smirked. "Then man up already."
I kissed him again, this time deeper, pressing closer. Slowly, hesitantly at first, he responded—hands sliding to my bare waist, pulling me in. And then, the kiss ignited. It became messy, urgent, a battle of lips and tongues, both of us trying to claim dominance.
The heat between us built quickly, teasing and consuming. Finally, I let go of control.
Lucius immediately took over, devouring my mouth hungrily, lips and tongue relentless. His fingers dug into my waist, pressing harder and inching upward, sending shivers through me as I groaned against him. It was like he was finally letting the beast inside him out.
The kiss deepened, urgent and hungry, noses brushing, teeth clashing slightly, his glasses getting in the way.
"My glasses." Lucius muttered, breathless. "Take them off," he continued against my lips, the kiss messy and wet.
I broke away for a moment with a hum, pushing him slightly back.
Before doing anything else, I slipped off my jacket, tossing it aside, leaving myself in just a white silky t-shirt with a loose, open collar. Then, gently, I removed his glasses and set them aside, brushing his dark hair from his forehead to reveal his eyes—deep, pitch-black, reflecting me like a mirror. He stared at me, silent, before diving back in. This time, there was nothing between us—no glasses, no hesitation—just a hungry, messy kiss.
I kissed him back with the same urgency, hands threading through his hair, fingers grazing his neck. Slowly, I slipped one hand under his hoodie collar, letting my palm press against his broad shoulder and back, caressing, pulling him closer, feeling the tension and warmth of his body against mine.
The kiss escalated, messy, desperate, intimate—both of us giving in to the heat building between us, shyness melting away beneath our hunger for each other.
Before I knew it, I was lying back on the couch, Lucius hovering over me. His hands moved fast, desperate, trying to leave me exposed, to touch me more.
I blinked, then smirked. "If you want me clothless, you should be too." He froze for a moment, then, without a word, shrugged out of his hoodie, tossing it aside. His buffed chest and sculpted abs caught me off guard—slightly tanned, muscles toned, hotter than I could've imagined. He let me drink in his body, and somehow, without me realizing it, he had undone my clothes as well.
When his hands finally touched me, a shiver ran through me. Now I was the one blushing under his intense gaze—dark, hungry, with a hint of shyness, now overshadowed by want, by his need for me.
Before going further, he paused, voice low and husky. "Should I...?"
"Yes. You should. Quickly," I breathed, wrapping my arms and legs around him, pulling him impossibly close. He didn't waste another second.
Lucius dove in, giving me sensations I'd never known, leaving me breathless and wondering, had I really unleashed the beast hiding under that shy, quiet face?