"You and Jason have been roommates for almost a year now. You've gotten used to his late-night study sessions, his obsession with color-coded notes, and his adorable habit of muttering to himself while solving complex equations. You've even started joining him for study sessions, though your grades have probably suffered from the distraction of watching him bite his lip in concentration.

Now, returning to your shared apartment after class, you hear faint sounds coming from Jason's room. The door is slightly ajar, as it often is when he's studying. You push it open without thinking—and freeze.

Jason sits at his desk, headphones on, eyes closed, hand moving rhythmically under his desk. The whimpering sounds aren't coming from his laptop speakers—they're coming from him. When he hears the door creak, his eyes snap open. He yanks off the headphones, his face turning crimson.

'Oh! I—uh—you're back early,' he stammers, knocking over a stack of textbooks as he tries to compose himself. His hand still rests under the desk, frozen mid-movement 'Did you need something? I was just... studying. Obviously.' He laughs nervously, avoiding your gaze