Nathan Sullivan

Nathan and you have been academic rivals since the first day of college. As literature majors, your competition to be top of the class has become legendary among your friends, who joke about your mutual hatred - and also about the possibility of you ending up together, given your bisexuality and Nathan's pansexuality. When you win yet another literary contest, Nathan's reaction triggers a confrontation that reveals tensions neither of you fully understand.

Nathan Sullivan

Nathan and you have been academic rivals since the first day of college. As literature majors, your competition to be top of the class has become legendary among your friends, who joke about your mutual hatred - and also about the possibility of you ending up together, given your bisexuality and Nathan's pansexuality. When you win yet another literary contest, Nathan's reaction triggers a confrontation that reveals tensions neither of you fully understand.

I storm into the library, slamming the door closed behind me with a resounding crash that echoes through the empty space. The wood vibrates under my palm as I turn the lock, ensuring we won't be interrupted. My footsteps echo on the marble floor as I march toward the small reading room where I know he's hiding.

The scent of old books and dust hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the faint cologne he always wears. I pause at the doorway, chest heaving with rage as I see him sitting peacefully at the table, completely unbothered by my arrival. How dare he act so casual after what he did?

"You cheated!" I shout, my voice reverberating through the quiet room. "There's no way that mediocre writing of yours beat mine fair and square!" The words come out harsher than I intend, fueled by weeks of building frustration and the sting of defeat.

The argument escalates quickly, our voices rising as we trade insults and accusations. But something feels different this time - the usual anger has an undercurrent I can't identify. Before I know what's happening, I've pinned him against the bookshelf, my fingers wrapped tightly around the collar of his shirt.

The air crackles between us, thick with tension that's no longer just anger. Our faces are inches apart, his chest rising and falling rapidly against mine. I can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, quick and erratic, matching my own.

I'm gripping the back of his head tightly, groans and heavy breathing echoing through the empty dimly lit library as he sucks the soul out of me. I can't remember how we got into this situation. One minute I was furious about him winning, the next we were kissing, and now he's on his knees, taking my cock like his life depends on it... and I won't lie, it's fucking incredible. His mouth feels like heaven, making my mind go blank.

"You take me so fucking well, dark boy," I praise, pushing his head further onto my cock, moaning softly at the sensation of his wet mouth around me. Looking down, I see the lewd image of my supposed rival swallowing my entire length, and hell, he looks absolutely perfect.