Roommates With Benefits [BL]

His thumb stopped moving.

”I know,” he said quietly. ”I don’t...I’m so sorry.”

That response stung more than I expected.

Because he was right, there were four years between us that neither of us could reclaim.

All because of his shit-eating parents.

Damien leaned in closer, slowly enough for me to stop him if I wanted.

But I didn’t, then his forehead brushed against mine.

For a moment, we just stayed there, breathing the same air, the darkness making everything feel more intimate than it already was.

Then he whispered, ”I’m never leaving you again.”

My chest tightened. ”Y...you can’t promise that.”

”Yes, I can.”

”Damien...”

”No one’s going to come between us again.”

I wanted to argue.

I wanted to remind him that life doesn’t work that way, that promises are easy to make when you’re lying in someone’s bed after years apart.

‎But before I could even come up with words...he kissed me carefully at first, just the lightest touch of his lips against mine, giving me every chance to pull away if I needed space.

For a heartbeat, I almost did...because that familiar contact hit me like a jolt, feeling way too much like coming home after years of convincing myself I didn’t have one anymore.

But when I didn’t pull back, when I let my lips soften under his in a response that felt both inevitable and reckless, the kiss deepened with a hunger that had clearly been building longer than either of us wanted to admit.

His lips parted against mine, and the restraint he’d held onto throughout the night began to fray.

‎

‎My hands, which had been rigidly at my sides as if they might betray me with the slightest movement, hovered in the air between us before one finally found its way into his hair, soft strands slipping between my fingers...a texture I’d tried and failed to forget for four long years.

Damien froze for a brief second at my touch, a quiet exhale escaping his lips like he’d been holding that breath for ages.

Then, his hand moved under the edge of my shirt with careful intent, the warmth of his palm tracing slow, controlled strokes on my back that made every nerve in my body feel hyper-aware of his touch.

‎

‎The intensity built gradually yet overwhelmingly; that gentle exploration quickly turned urgent as our bodies inched closer.

There was hardly any space left between us, and the friction of our hips brushing against each other made it impossible to ignore how affected we both were.

I suddenly became painfully aware of my arousal, the evidence of my body’s betrayal pressing against him with an honesty my mind was still struggling to accept.

The fact that Damien could probably feel it only deepened the flush that spread across my face and down my neck.

His breathing turned uneven against my lips, and as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down toward my neck, I had to stifle a sound that would’ve been too revealing in the quiet room.

‎

‎He lingered there for several long moments, pressing his face into my neck and breathing me in as if my scent was something he’d been craving.

His warm breath against my sensitive skin made my fingers tighten in his hair without me even realizing it.

”I missed this,” he murmured against me, his words vibrating low enough that I felt them more than heard them.

When I managed a shaky ”What?” he replied without missing a beat, ”You.”

He tightened his arms around me and continued speaking in that quiet, rough voice, the kind he saved for moments when the CEO mask had slipped away.

”I missed your laugh,” he murmured. ”I missed the way you used to fall asleep in the middle of arguments, only to wake up annoyed because I hadn’t finished listening to you yell at me.”

‎

‎Each specific memory hit like a truth he’d carried around, like evidence against the silence we’d maintained for so long.

The contrast between his careful touches and the urgency of our kisses once I started responding was dizzying, the tender restraint giving way to deeper presses of his mouth against mine as his hand slid further under my shirt, exploring my stomach and ribs with an intensity that made me forget all the rules I’d set less than an hour earlier.

‎

‎Half-heartedly, I muttered one of those earlier rules against his lips,

”I said no touching,” but the words came out far less convincing than they had before.

Damien just smiled against my lips before kissing me again, enough to dissolve my protests into something closer to reluctant surrender.

Our bodies moved together in a slow, rhythm...not rushing toward anything, but relearning each other’s shapes after being apart for too long.

The grinding of our hips sent my thoughts scattering in every direction.

‎

‎Every place his hands explored left a trail of heat that lingered long after his fingers moved on.

When he shifted just enough to press one thigh between mine, I let out a sharp inhale I couldn’t entirely suppress.

Damien’s reaction was immediate, a low murmur of my name against my throat, followed by kisses that traced my collarbone with a reverence that felt both gentle and devastatingly intimate.

I could feel his arousal pressed firmly against me, and knowing he was just as affected only stirred the chaotic swirl of emotions in my head.

”I fucking wanted you near me so bad.” He whispered.

‎

‎My body was responding with enthusiasm that my mind was struggling to process; the four years of distance evaporated under the simple reality of his hands on my skin and his familiar weight half-covering me in the dark.

There was a moment when his fingers brushed higher under my shirt, skimming just beneath my ribs, making my back arch slightly on its own.

The small sound that escaped me seemed to encourage him as he returned his focus to my mouth.

The kisses had long ceased to be careful, but they never became careless...each one carrying the weight of everything we hadn’t been able to say or do for four full years.

‎

‎I was torn between desire and doubt, leaning into every point of contact while a quieter part of me insisted this was moving way too quickly, that the emotional ground between us was still too shaky for this kind of closeness to feel safe.

Damien seemed to sense my tension because he slowed down a bit without pulling away, resting his forehead against mine while our breaths remained uneven and the warmth of his palm rested possessively on the small of my back.

The darkness intensified everything, stripping away distractions until all that was left was the sound of our shared breaths, the warmth of skin against skin, and the quiet realization that neither of us had truly moved on, despite pretending for so long.

‎

‎When the intensity felt like it was about to tip into uncharted territory, I slowed it down with a shaky admission.

”Damien...I...um– I still needed more time.”

The words slipped out against his lips more as a request than a rejection.

Damien stopped immediately, his self-control impressive enough that it almost hurt to watch. ”Okay.”

Though I could feel the tension running through him, he didn’t try to persuade me otherwise or push past the boundary I’d just drawn.

We stayed close, breathing heavily with our foreheads touching, his arm secure around my waist, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest becoming the only sound that mattered in that quiet room.

‎

‎Neither of us moved away for the rest of the night, the physical distance that had felt necessary earlier now replaced by a careful closeness acknowledging both the progress we’d made and the considerable distance still to travel.

The truth lay open between us now, the years of silence finally taking shape, yet the emotional forgiveness and any concrete sense of our future remained unresolved in the tangled space of our limbs.

He said he missed me like it was the simplest truth in the world, and the worst part was how easily my body believed him.

‎