Page 5

“Law is intense. You must be pretty smart yourself.”

“I try.” He smiles again, the expression making him look different from the dangerous guy who threatened his friend in the foyer.

The iron gate clicks open, revealing my parked bike waiting on the dark street.

“That’s my bike.” I step through the opening, turning back to face him. “Thank you for walking me out, Yakov. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Elias. Get home safe.”

I throw my leg over the seat, grip the handlebars, and start cycling down the dark road. Glancing back over my shoulder, I raise my hand to wave goodbye. Yakov stands by the iron gate under the glow of the streetlamp, waving back as he watches me disappear into the night.

Chapter 2

Yakov

Elias will arrive in forty minutes.

I check my phone again. The time reads 1:20 PM. He texted twenty minutes earlier to say he finished lunch with Haven in the dining hall and will bike over soon. I spend the whole morning making sure my flat looks perfect. I clean everything twice, run the vacuum over the carpet, wipe every surface, and fill the mini fridge with the expensive sparkling water he said he liked a few days ago. He probably forgot he ever said anything about it, but I remember every word.

The textbooks sit ready on the coffee table. He has anatomy, and I have criminal law. We study different subjects, yet he still suggested we work together. He calls us friends now. That word feels wrong inside me. It seems too small for everything I want from him, but I accept whatever he offers.

Just thinking about him walking through my door makes my cock start to harden. This has become a real problem. I cannot meet him at the door already excited like this. I cannot sit across from him for three hours while my body reacts every time he bites his pen, pushes his hair back, or moves those long fingers. I need to take care of it right now so I can act normal when he shows up.

Even though I live alone, I lock the bedroom door anyway. I pull out my phone and open the photo album I labeled “Studying” just in case anyone ever looks through it. Forty-three pictures of Elias wait inside. He does not know about most of them. A few come from the day we took photos together last week. He sat on my Ducati after I offered to show it to him. He grinned in his tank top and shorts while his pale legs hung over the side. His small body looked tiny next to the big bike. I told him to smile, and he did. I took six pictures before he laughed and said that was plenty.

I open the best one now. In it, his smile reaches all the way to his eyes and the afternoon light touches his black hair. My hand moves down to my jeans. I rub myself through the denim while I stare at his face.

He looked so small on that bike. I can picture lifting him right off the seat. His legs would wrap around my waist. His laugh would change into a moan when I pressed against him. He would feel exactly how hard he makes me. He would finally understand what he does to me.

I push my jeans down and free my cock. It already leaks and throbs with need. I wrap my hand around it and stroke while my eyes stay fixed on his picture.

“Elias,” I say under my breath. His name comes out breathy.

The single photo does not satisfy me. It never does. I switch away from my camera roll and open the hidden app inside a folder marked “Security.” The screen fills with a grid of camera feeds. Four cameras show different views, but I only care about one.

Camera 3 points straight into Elias’s dorm room.

I put it there eight days earlier while he worked his shift at the restaurant. The scholarship dorms have weak locks and almost no security, so it took almost no effort to get inside. His room barely holds a twin bed and a small desk pushed against the wall. I placed the camera inside the smoke detector right above his bed so it catches every detail.

He has no idea it exists.

I open the saved video from last night and move the timeline to 2:47 AM. The recording begins. Elias lies asleep on his stomach across the sheets with nothing on. He always sleeps naked. I have watched him for a full week now, and he never puts clothes on before bed. I don’t care why. I only care that I have learned every inch of his pale skin and every soft curve of his small body.

My hand moves faster along my shaft as I watch.

In the video, Elias turns onto his back while he sleeps. His cock rests softly against his thigh. His chest rises and falls in calm breaths. He looks peaceful, unaware anyone is watching him. He does not know I see him like this every night.

“Fuck, Elias,” I groan as my strokes grow rougher.

I zoom closer to his face. His lips part just a little, and his dark lashes rest against his cheeks. He seems so vulnerable in that moment. I picture myself climbing into his narrow dorm bed. I would wake him by wrapping my hand around his cock and watch his eyes snap open in surprise. At first he would try to push me away, scared and confused. I would hold his wrists above his head and kiss him until the fight left his body. I would keep kissing him until he melted under me and finally admitted he wanted this too.

The video continues. Elias shifts again and bends one leg. The new angle shows me his smooth, pale ass completely. I want to sink my teeth into it. I want to spread him open and take everything I have imagined for so long.

The pleasure builds fast and crashes over me without warning. I come hard, spilling across my hand and stomach while his name tears from my mouth in a low moan. My hips jerk as I keep stroking to draw out every pulse. My eyes never leave the screen where he sleeps on, still unaware of everything.

It takes a full minute for my breathing to slow again.

I grab tissues from the nightstand and clean myself up. The phone screen still glows with the paused image of Elias lying naked on his bed. I stare at it a few more seconds to fix the sight in my mind, then close the app.