About: 2hollis and Roman has kept a secret relationship for so long. What happens when Roman gets pregnant with 2hollis kid ( yes I know men can’t get pregnant just pretend) also Roman still is a boy and has a boy parts and stuff!
Note: this is just something that was in my head I hope no one has thought about this and feel free to steals this idea from me I would love for someone to write it.
The tour bus had finally gone quiet.
Outside, the night was still alive music thumping faintly in the distance, laughter drifting through the air from the afterparty they had slipped away from. But in the back lounge, behind a closed door, everything felt different. Smaller. Warmer. Dangerous in a way neither of them wanted to name.
Roman’s breath was uneven, his pulse still racing as he lay back against the narrow bed, staring up at the ceiling like it might steady him. It didn’t.
Hollis hovered close, one hand braced beside Roman, the other gripping his waist as if letting go wasn’t an option. His forehead glistened with sweat, his chest rising and falling in sharp, unsteady breaths. There was something raw in his expression something that only showed up when no one else was watching.
“Hollis…” he murmured, voice low and rough, like the word itself meant too much.
Roman let out a shaky laugh that didn’t quite land. “We really shouldn’t be doing this right now,” he whispered, even as he reached for Hollis, fingers curling into his shirt like he needed the contact.
“Yeah,” Hollis said, not moving away. “I know.”
Neither of them stopped.
The air between them felt charged, thick with everything they weren’t saying—every stolen glance on stage, every brush of hands that lasted a second too long, every moment they’d both pretended didn’t mean anything.
Roman’s breath hitched again, quieter this time, softer. “Hollis…”
“I’ve got you,” Hollis replied immediately, his grip tightening just slightly, grounding him.
For a moment, the world outside disappeared entirely. No shows. No expectations. No girlfriends waiting back at the party. Just the two of them, caught in something they couldn’t undo.
When it was over, neither of them spoke right away.
Hollis leaned down, resting his forehead against Roman’s shoulder, their breathing slowly syncing again. Roman closed his eyes, letting the silence stretch because saying anything would make it real, and real meant complicated.
Eventually, Hollis pulled back first.
“Alright,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, already shifting back into the version of himself everyone else knew. “We should… go back.”
Roman nodded, though his chest still felt tight. “Yeah. Before someone notices.”
They moved around each other in the small space, fixing clothes, fixing their eyeliner and jewelry, avoiding eye contact for just a little too long. The moment was already slipping away, folding itself into something unspoken.
By the time they reached the door, the noise of the party came rushing back.
Hollis paused, hand on the handle. “We’re good?” he asked, not quite looking at Roman.
Roman forced a small smile. “Yeah. We’re good.”
It was a lie they both agreed to.
And then they stepped back into the night like nothing had happened.
Three weeks later:
It was no secret that Roman and Hollis were best friends they were often seen together. Currently, Roman was sprawled out on Hollis's couch, and fortunately for them, both of their girlfriends were preoccupied. They didn’t mind, as everyone was aware of how much time they spent together the only mystery was what they did in private.
"Yo, you good, Ro?" Hollis asked, his eyes glued to his laptop as he busily crafted beats. "You haven’t said a word," he mumbled. Roman turned his head to look at the back of Hollis's head. For the past week or two, he hadn’t been feeling well nausea hit him every time he caught a whiff of certain smells or foods. He felt bloated, his urine was clear as water, and his chest and nipples appeared swollen. He thought it might just be a fever, but he didn’t feel hot or sick, and this had been going on for weeks.
"Nah man, I don’t feel so good," Roman replied, turning back to his phone.
"Didn’t you say that last week?" Hollis asked, concern now evident as he shifted his gaze from the laptop to Roman.
"Yeah, I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Wanna come and then hit a good joint later?" Roman invited.
"Of course, you’re my little pretty bitch," Hollis joked.
"Shut the fuck up," Roman retorted with a smile.
They exchanged glances, both in awe of these fleeting moments together, which felt surreal, knowing they would soon have to return to their regular lives. They kept their secrets hidden, letting no one peek behind the cracks in the door.
The next morning:
Roman reclines on the hospital bed while the doctor conducts an ultrasound. It's unusual for a man to be pregnant, but it doesn't hurt to check perhaps it's just a flu in his stomach. Roman lies there casually, showing no signs of worry, while Hollis sits beside him, engrossed in his phone. Suddenly, a startled mumble escapes the doctor, followed by the nurse with brown hair exclaiming, "What the fuck?" This catches the attention of both Hollis and Roman, who turn to the ultrasound screen and spot something small. Roman, now filled with anxiety, asks the doctor, "What the fuck is that? What's happening?" The doctor's face remains frozen in shock as she quietly responds, "It seems like you're pregnant..." Even she struggles to believe the words leaving her lips. At this moment, everyone exchanges surprised glances. The silence is so profound that the sound of a dripping sink from the other room can be heard. "Let me quickly fetch someone more senior," she says with a nervous laugh. Roman and Hollis continue to stare at the screen in disbelief, only turning their heads when the door swings open again. A man in a suit, labeled as the head doctor, clears his throat. "I know this is hard to accept, but it's true. We've had similar cases that have made headlines. We understand you lack female anatomy, so if you choose to carry this baby to term, there are complications. A C-section will be necessary, and we also see signs that the baby may experience separation anxiety and will need to breastfeed until it's four years old. If you opt not to have this baby, it involves a risky surgery," the doctor explains to Roman. Both Roman and Hollis are left speechless, struggling to process the information. The knot in Roman's stomach tightens as he holds back his emotions. "I'll leave you two to decide," he says before exiting the room. Hollis turns to Roman first, saying, "Ro, what do you want to do? I know this is a tough choice, and we have our issues, but I kind of want to keep it. We've managed to keep our relationship a secret; we can keep this baby a secret too."
Note: sooo honestly I wanted to write this for fun. Feel free to steal
synopsis: roman and hollis spend some time alone listening to music over a joint. the proximity would make anybody fold…
tags: nerd!hollis x popular!roman, hollis is genuinely a loser, dom!roman/sub!hollis, weed usage, dryhumping, frotting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dacryphilia
author's note: Hi (This can be considered a part 2 to this fic but it's not entirely necessary)
wc: 3244
taglist: @romansbbg @peterpangirl777 (ask to be added)
The two boys sit in Roman's room. It's an unassuming Friday night, the ravens caw as the sunset's glow begins to fade into a dark night. It's warm, and they are smoking over a cd player's mellow tunes. Hollis had asked to come over to listen to some of Roman's collection, and Roman took it as an opportunity to smoke with him. Conversation was few and far between. Hollis is getting deeply inspired by this new music, keeping his head low, deconstructing the sound. It was extremely interesting… Low, resonating and deeply emotional. It really fit the vibe of Roman's room— dim, romantically lit and dark in terms of colour. His walls were a deep red, adorned with various framed paintings and a mirror framed with polaroid pictures. His room isn't messy, but it's lived in— his jewelry boxes are tussled, recently messed with and untidied, chains and crosses dotting the top of his dresser. Golden rings are anywhere but the ring boxes, in a spot he clearly places them every day. His shirts and tank tops are just on top of the drawer, hardly inside it. Roman turns to Hollis and admires his profile silently. Hollis looks interesting when he is concentrating— his brow scrunches, his eyes go dark and his fingers tap to rhythms, seemingly on their own. He wants to know what Hollis is thinking about. But he knows the pursuit is fruitless.
Inside Hollis's mind, he is very carefully dissecting each component of the sound playing from Roman's humble cd player, and thinking of how to compose tracks of his own with a similar sound. He's imagining so deeply, he forgets Roman is feet away from him, slowly inhaling a drag off a joint. He exhales from his nostrils, sending flares of smoke into his direction. He briefly snaps out of it, and his eyes meet Roman's. He's reminded of his sin. His lustful attraction to Roman and the drunken mishap they had, in this very room, which he cannot fully remember. He mourns this memory, for all he remembers is the ecstasy and pleasure from which that night bestowed upon him. But his memory failed him. All he remembered was Roman's warmth, and his muscular back. The feeling of tongues intertwining, drooling slightly, spit stringing from lips. He clears his throat and adjusts his legs.
"You alright?"
"Yeah," he lies, tapping his foot in a futile attempt to divert blood from his half-hard boner. He pushes his glasses up his nose before taking the joint from Roman's extended hand. His distracted thinking made everything more obvious, the way their fingers brushed together as he shakily accepts the joint, bringing it to his lips.
"You look like something's on your mind," Roman murmurs, leaning back slightly to relax on his elbows. Hollis refused to look in his direction, because the sight would kill him. It was impossible to simmer down at this point.
"Not much, really," he mutters, taking a drag, feeling the tickling sensation set into his body, relaxing his limbs, but not his heart. Roman can sense his discomfort, and cocks a brow.
"C'mon," he nudges Hollis's knee with his own, "tell me what's up."
"Roman," he begins, throat immediately closing up. He takes a deep breath. "What happened at your party?"
"You don't remember? I was more drunk than you."
"I really don't remember. I'm being serious."
Roman chuckles, waving his knee. "You can't tell me you remember nothing."
"Well, obviously, but, like, y'know… What happened in here?" he gestures to the room, cheeks flushed like crazy. Thinking back on what passed that night got Roman worked up. His lip curls.
"It's not easy to say, hm?" his voice quiets, almost to a whisper. "Some things, can only be explained by doing."
Hollis freezes. His heart is racing. It feels a lot more confronting to be challenged by these thoughts as he's stone cold sober. He has no intoxication to drown the internalised wrong-ness of feeling this way towards a boy. Except, it's clear Roman is staring holes through his cheek, eyes dark with lust. The air is thick, and the music feels eerily appropriate, slow-moving, erotic and low.
"You won't move, will you?" Roman mumbles.
"Don't think I can," Hollis chokes. Roman shifts, spreading his legs.
"Can you at least look at me?"
He turns to face Roman, and groans as his dick throbs in his tight jeans. Why he wears tight jeans around Roman if he's just going to end up harder than a block of cement, he will never know. But His brow scrunches as he makes eye contact with Roman, cheeks red, sweat beading. He too, has a changed expression, eyes clouded, smirk tugging. He's lying on his elbows, legs open. It's too confronting to look at him like this.
"You scared?"
"A little, yeah."
"I don't bite, Holli," he grins, weaponising the nickname that he dreads most. Hollis groans again from more throbbing, he desperately attempts to stifle it, but it's near impossible.
Roman gets up from the floor, and Hollis's eyes stay glued to him. He sits on his bed, scooting back, lying on his side. He gestures with his hand for Hollis to follow, and slowly, he too gets off the floor. It's torture being so hard in these pants. He awkwardly sits down on Roman's bed beside him.
"Lie down, you idiot," Roman chuckles, and Hollis sheepishly lies on his side. Their bodies are fully facing each other, the heat radiating off of each other is powerful. Roman's hand extends to Hollis's cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone, all the way down to his lips, parting them slowly. Hollis's body is on fire. He shivers at Roman's touch; his calloused, muscular hands being so gentle to his burning face. Roman slowly inches closer, leaning in ever so slightly, moving his fingers and bringing Hollis's jaw closer. Their lips meet in the most pained kiss in the world. Hollis groans against his lips, And Roman sighs in relief. Their lips seperate and intersect over and over, slowly, pressing curses against each other's mouths. As they kissed, Roman pulled Hollis closer, moving his hand from his jaw to his shoulder, to his midriff. Hollis raised a hand to Roman's side, clutching at the fabric. Roman's hand drops to Hollis's inner thigh, and he whines desperately, cock twitching furiously. They pull apart, and any facade of normalcy had faded. Roman's smirk had faded, his lips parted slightly, lips red from contact. His eyes were clouded with something unfamiliar and dangerous, brows scrunched. His eyes drop to Hollis's crotch, his hand teetering near his cock.
"I'll touch you if you touch me," Roman whispers. Hollis silently drops his hand from his side to Roman's crotch, palming at his bulge, earning a deep moan from him. This sets off Hollis's own erection, to which Roman's fingertips drag over, as he comes in and kneads at it, palming it. They both start moaning, and Hollis messily kisses Roman again, this time with tongue. They groan, huffing as they touch each other, dicks pulsing into each other's hands. Roman fiddles with Hollis's fly as they kiss, slowly unzipping his jeans, the zip rumbling low as his firm fingers drag it down, exposing Hollis's underwear. There was a wet patch at the tip of his erection, sticky with precum. Roman's fingers drag over Hollis's shaft, leaving him breathless and shaky. "You sure you don't remember what you did with me?"
"I swe-ear, I only rememb-er you on top of me," Hollis whines breathily, and Roman grins excitedly.
He moves his hand to his own pants, unbuttoning them and exposing his own underwear, his boner pulsing into his palm. "Come closer, Holli," he whispers, "press your body against mine."
Hollis inches his body across the bed, the knitted quilt beneath him shifting in temperature as he inched closer to Roman, until their faces were barely touching. He stops. He can't move any closer, or he'll bump into Roman's sharp nose.
"You can get closer," Roman whispers.
"I can't. I'll hit your nose."
"Our bodies aren't touching yet."
Hollis's cheeks flush. He gets the message. He bucks his hips, until their boners touch, seperated by agonisingly thin cotton underwear. He exhales sharply, pulsing against Roman.
"Feel familiar yet?" he mumbles, rubbing himself against Hollis shakily.
"Hnng- Kinda," whines Hollis, "I can't tell.."
Roman grips onto Hollis's hips and puts a lot more weight into his thrusts against Hollis. He whimpers, gritting his teeth. Roman sighs, enjoying both the physical pleasure and the visual pleasure of seeing Hollis crumble beneath his fingers.
"Is thi-is what dry humping a boy is like?" Hollis asks wearily, eyes squeezed shut, trying not to cum.
"Mhm," Roman replies, "and the other night, this fabric wasn't in the way.. Imagine that, Holli.."
He whimpers.
"Imagine our hard dicks pressed up against each other.."
He pleads.
"That's how it went… Mhm, I had you on your back, just like this," he shifts Hollis onto his back and remains on top of him, "it's a shame you don't remember…"
Hollis's hands were now feebly by his side as he tries to balance his weight on his elbows, forehead touching Roman's. Even the heat emanating off of him was confronting. The way Roman was talking to him had him feverishly close to finishing. One wrong move and he was done— he was innately concentrated on not fucking this up. His glasses slip down his nose, and he awkwardly leans to his side to fix them, fingers quivering. Roman reaches a hand to Hollis's head and combs through his thin hair, massaging at his scalp.
"Stop tha-at.." he groans, "I'm already so close—fuck-"
"Shhh, it's okay Holli, I've got you," a smirk tugs at Roman's lips as he pulls Hollis's head to the side and whispers directly into his ear. He whines gutturally in response, to Roman's delight, as he licks at his sensitive ear.
"Stop, Roman, I'm gonna cu-um—"
"Huh?" he pulls back, stilling in movement against his cock too. Hollis's chest rose and fell rapidly. "Are you actually gonna cum?"
"Hnng…" he whimpers defeatedly, dick throbbing angrily against Roman. Sweat falls from his temple. He looks Roman in the eye; his eyes were scanning over Hollis's frame, lips parted for air. ".. Something wrong with that?"
"… No. I guess I just have less stamina when I'm wasted;" Roman chuckles. "You're so weak in every way. It's so amusing."
"That's not ni-ice, Roman," Hollis mewls.
"Not wrong either, is it?" he laughs, "I'm sorry. This just means more fun for me."
"Howso?"
"I'm gonna see how many times you can cum for me."
Hollis's eyes widen. His blood rushes to his cheeks, and back down to his excited boner, pulsing rapidly and leaking a little. He huffs. He'd never pushed himself past 2 consecutive orgasms. this could get dangerous. Quickly.
Roman gets off of Hollis and lies back down next to him. He lies on his side, with Hollis finding it difficult to focus on one thing at a time. He puts a hand on Hollis's jaw and guides him towards his lips, and they meet in a kiss. Hollis's lips had gone cold from constantly being agape gasping air, and Roman's were still warm— the temperature difference caused a shudder between them. As they kiss, Roman creeps his hand up Hollis's hip and into his lap, freeing Hollis's boner from its boxers, and wrapping his hand around his dick. He pumps slowly and firmly at first, and Hollis moans into Roman's mouth, eyebrows scrunching. His hips instinctively buck upward, into his firm hand, seeking pleasure. He clutches at the fabric beneath him, balling white-knuckled fists. Roman parts from his lips, murmuring "that's right, don't run from it," among other sweet nothings as his hand works steadily. Noises of pleasure escape Hollis's lips unabashedly, and his eyes slip open, and look Roman in the face.
"You still scared of me? Hm?" Roman mumbles, his free hand tracing down Hollis's forearm.
"N-No.." he whines, eyes pleading for something unspecific.
"You're doing so well, Holli," Roman continues, to which Hollis tenses underneath his grasp. He's getting closer. "You gonna cum for me?"
"Hnn- yeah, yeah I'm close—" he chokes, gripping Roman's free hand and intertwining fingers, "I'm begging you, don't stop.."
"I'm right here, Holli," Roman whispers, "just feel it."
Hollis strains every muscle in his face as thick ropes of cum shoot from his dick, some getting on his stomach, chest, and inbetween Roman's fingers. Roman does not stop, he just slows. Even as every stroke sends a shiver through Hollis's weak frame.
Hollis grips Roman's hand harder now, breathing shakily through each movement.
"How do you feel?"
"I feel… A lot…" Hollis gasps, "It's a lot." He adjusts his glasses shakily.
"Mm?" Roman's pace doesn't waver. He just presses kisses against Hollis's cheek. "Not too much though, right?"
"N-No.."
"I'll stop if it's too much."
"… More." Hollis begs.
Roman's lips naturally curl into a wide smile, heart skipping a beat at what he'd just heard. "Alright, Holli, I'll give you some more."
He groans in ecstacy.
Roman runs his tongue along Hollis's jaw and neck, dipping into his collar, lightly biting down and pressing closed-mouth kisses over the marks. Hollis just simply whines and moans in response, letting his body speak for itself. Roman started to speed up again, and he begins to tense again. Rhythmically, his body spasms, and once again, Roman knows he is going to cum before he does.
"I'm— I'm gonna—"
"Shhh," he hushes, "just feel it." Hollis lets out a longer and more exasperated cry of pleasure as he cums for the second time, breath catching with each pulse. Roman kisses him through it, fingers still tightly woven with Hollis's, thumb making lazy circles over his hand. Roman, once again, does not stop jerking him, but slows noticably. "How about now..? How do you feel?"
"Hnng.." Hollis is visibly out of breath. "So much…"
"Ever felt this good before?"
"No, Roman…" Hollis's eyes go meek with embarrassment, "you're… too.. too fucking good.."
He laughs. "You're easier to wrap around my dick than I thought you would be, Holli. Can you do one more round?"
"Hnng.." he bites his lip, eyes squinting. He's thinking about it. He nods. Roman's eyes half-lid in amusement.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," he mumbles, before rapidly quickening his pace, and Hollis cries out suddenly. It's so overbearing. It feels so fucking good. But it also kind of hurts. It feels so good it hurts. He'd never been able to get this fast by himself before. Fuck… Roman's muscles are too powerful. Tears prick at the edge of Hollis's eyes, beginning to spill onto his rosy cheeks.
"You okay, Holli? Should I stop?"
"Hnng— It's— it's too much…" he whines.
"Do you want me to stop?" Roman repeats.
"…No," Hollis makes eye contact with Roman, tears spilling down his face and dribbling down his chin, glasses fogging up, "for the—fuck, for the love of god— don't—"
"You'll be the fucking end of me," Roman growls, snaring Hollis into a messy kiss, pressing his dick against the bed, pushing Hollis's hand into the pillow behind his head, furiously pumping him. Hollis cries out relentlessly against Roman's lips, unable to kiss back from the overstimulation. Roman could taste the salt from his tears in the kiss, and it only made him leak more into his dark jeans. Hollis's sounds warped over time, sounding less like moans and more like sobs. His body jerks furiously against Roman's unrelenting touch.
"I don't thi—ink I can c—cum anymo—ore," Hollis wails, sniffling, "It's— aaah— I can't—"
"You're doin' so good f'me," Roman mutters into the kiss, "A'know you can do it.."
"R—Rommy—" Hollis blubbers, "I love you, I l—ove you, I lo—ve y—ou…"
"I… I love you," Roman repeats, "my.. my Holli."
"Say it— again—"
"Hm?"
"Say you—love me," Hollis cries.
"I love you," Roman mumbles against Hollis's lips like a prayer, "I love you, I—fuck, I love your dick, I love your cute face, I l—ove when you cry—"
"Rommy—!" Hollis blurts, "Fuck! Don't stop! Close!—"
"Yes, love you, love you, attaboy—" Roman's brow furrows, and he feels an odd knot in his lower abdomen. As Hollis loudly sobs through his third orgasm, Roman, somehow, against greater odds, feels that unmistakeable, familiar feeling coming at a rapid pace. He's managed to make himself cum hands free, into his boxers. His lips hang open with each pulse of cum soaking his underwear, breathing shaky moans as he absorbs Hollis's dishevelled state beneath him. Roman finally lets go of Hollis's dick, and runs a finger along his own crotch just to make sure, and his boxers were entirely soaked with cum. He is beside himself. How on earth did that just happen? Roman hasn't came in his pants since he was an early teen.
Hollis takes deep, shaky breaths to ground himself, taking off his glasses to wipe away his tears. As he comes down from the high, the aching, familiar shame took root almost immediately. More choked tears came out of him, this time clearly from distress.
"Hey, Hollis, don't cry," Roman quickly holds Hollis's face, wiping away his tears.
"What the fuck is wrong with me," he whimpers, eyes clouded, "why the fuck was I crying? What am I fucking doing?"
"I… I don't know," Roman whispers, "but you're with me. I've got you."
"Roman…" Hollis chokes. "Thank you."
He doesn't say anything, but presses their foreheads together until Hollis's quiet cries and sniffles petered out. He rubs Hollis's back in reassuring circles.
"I'll get us cleaned up," he murmurs, "and we can do something else. Okay?"
"Us?"
"Oh, right," Roman chuckles, nodding his chin to his crotch. Hollis's eyes widen.
"How'd you do that?"
"I have no fuckin' idea. But it's your fault." he grins. Hollis lets out a stifled laugh.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
"… Did I really say 'I love you?'"
The two boys are sharing another joint, knee to knee, as a new cd is spinning in Roman's cd player.
"You did," Roman takes a drag, "and I said it back."
He chews the inside of his lip.
"What? Did you not mean it?"
"No, that's not it…"
"What is it then?"
Hollis hesitates. "I guess I just, like, wanted to save it for a.. more special moment than that."
"I'd argue that was pretty special."
"You fuckin' know what I mean."
Roman smirks, waving his leg. "You think so rigidly. I think it's okay to do things in the moment if they feel good."
"Good, huh," Hollis murmurs, "try 'overwhelming'."
Roman simply chuckles, passing the joint. He looks over at Hollis. He hasn't put his glasses back on yet. He admires in silence.
"You.. you've got a handsome face under those thick frames."
"What? You don't like them?"
"No, I love them. But I've never seen you without them..."
"Firsts for everything, I guess."
"… and, I love you, Hollis."
His cheeks flush rosy. He diverts his eyes, taking a big drag from the joint.
"Say it back."
"… No."
"I said it back to you.. That isn't fair," Roman pouts, "say it back."
"… I… I love you, Roman."
"Attaboy."
"Shut up."
Roman leans his head on Hollis's shoulder. The sun has fully set, with the twinkling stars dotting the warm summer night in its stead.
Three weeks had passed, but for you, time had become a heavy, slow blur.
You stood in front of the bathroom mirror with the door cracked open, the faucet running to muffle the silence. You tilted your head to the left and gently pulled down the collar of your t-shirt. There, right where your collarbone met your neck, remained the last trace: a faint, yellowish-greenish shadow of the hickey Roman had left you that night.
You stared at it for way too long.
Your fingers instinctively rose to trace your skin, and in a second, memory brought everything rushing back—the feeling of his firm hands gripping your hair, the weight of his body pressing over yours, and the sound of his heavy breathing against your ear. Not a single night had passed since then without you closing your eyes and replaying every detail, every touch, every muffled groan in the dark of your room.
It made you furious. It enraged you how much your body still responded to the mere memory of his mouth.
The sound of Vanessa’s laughter in the hallway snapped you out of your trance. You yanked your collar back up, splashed cold water on your face, and stepped out into the hall.
As you walked down the stairs toward the kitchen, your stepsister’s voice echoed with that loud, boastful cheerfulness you hated so much. She was leaning against the counter, typing rapidly on her phone while detailing her latest date to your mom.
"He’s honestly perfect, Mom," Vanessa said, letting out a silly giggle while staring at her screen. "He picked me up from school yesterday and took me to dinner. He always pays attention to the smallest details... he told me he can’t wait to come over again this weekend."
A bitter, ice-cold knot settled in the pit of your stomach.
You walked over to the cupboard to grab a glass, trying to ignore her, but your chest burned. Sharp, toxic jealousy gnawed at you every time she said his name. Rage for hearing her talk about him like he belonged to her, and pure, poisonous envy imagining Roman smiling at her, holding her hand, or kissing her with the exact same mouth that, three weeks ago, had taken the liberty of devouring you in the dark.
"Is he staying over again?" your mom asked curiously as she served a plate.
"Yeah! He said he loved being here and that the house is super peaceful," Vanessa boasted, tilting her chin up just as you passed by her. She looked you up and down with her typical condescending smile. "Does it bother you, Y/n? You had such a moody face all through breakfast last time..."
You gripped the glass so tightly your knuckles turned white. You met her gaze, feeling the shadow of the mark on your neck burning beneath your shirt.
"Not at all," you said in the coldest, most neutral voice you could muster. "He can come whenever he wants."
"Good," Vanessa smiled, turning back to her phone. "Because Roman said he’s planning to stay the entire weekend this time."
You turned around to leave the kitchen before they could notice your breathing becoming erratic. Your heart pounded wildly against your ribs. You knew with absolute certainty that the moment Roman walked through that door again, the fake calm you had built over the last three weeks was going to shatter completely.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
Friday afternoon arrived faster than you would have liked.
The doorbell ringing downstairs made your stomach twist into a tight knot. Hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway—Vanessa practically ran down the stairs, her sweet, sickeningly strong perfume lingering in her wake. You leaned against the living room doorframe, unable to completely lock yourself in your room, but swearing to yourself that this time you would keep your distance.
"Hi, my love!" Vanessa’s enthusiastic squeal rang through the foyer, followed by the sound of her arms wrapping around his neck.
"Hey, beautiful," Roman’s voice sounded deep, clean, and smooth as ever. "Sorry I’m late, traffic was terrible."
You immediately lowered your gaze to your phone. Your fingers pretended to scroll through an app you weren't even paying attention to, but your ears caught every little sound. You heard him drop his backpack on the floor and take a couple of steps inside.
Dying of jealousy inside, you squeezed your phone tightly. You knew Vanessa was leaning up to kiss him, and the mere image of her lips touching his made a wave of bitter bile rise in your throat.
"Come into the living room, Roman. My parents are upstairs changing," Vanessa said, guiding him by the arm.
You tried not to move, keeping your eyes glued to the illuminated screen. You felt his presence approaching. The scent of his cologne—the exact same one that had stayed embedded in your sheets weeks ago—filled the room.
Roman stopped a couple of steps away from you. He said nothing, respecting Vanessa’s presence beside him, but the density in the air shifted instantly. Even with your head down, you felt his dark eyes drop from your face to your neck, searching for the exact spot where his mark used to be. A heavy silence hovered between you for two agonizing seconds before he spoke naturally to break the ice.
"Hey, Y/n," he greeted in a tone so polite and measured that anyone would think he barely registered you in the room.
"Hey," you replied without looking up from your screen, keeping your voice dry and distant as you took half a step back to avoid him.
Vanessa let out a soft laugh. "You know how she is, Roman. She doesn't like interacting much. Come on, let's sit down."
Roman didn't reply, but you felt his gaze linger on the crown of your head for one more second before letting Vanessa pull him toward the main couch.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
A few hours later, dinner was served.
The dining table was filled with dishes and your parents' conversation filled the room. As usual, you ended up sitting right across from Roman, while Vanessa occupied the seat to his right, babbling endlessly about her plans for Saturday.
You kept yourself busy pushing food around with your fork, head down, your chest tightening with jealousy every time Vanessa adjusted Roman's collar or leaned against his shoulder.
Suddenly, a stray touch beneath the table froze your pulse.
At first, it was subtle—a light pressure against the tip of your sneaker. But almost immediately, the toe of Roman’s leather boot slid upward, slowly tracing your ankle and climbing up your calf until it reached the fabric of your pants on your lower thigh.
Your heart took a violent leap.
Instinctively, your eyes snapped up. Roman was listening intently to your stepfather, nodding along with an impeccable smile on his face. Not a single muscle in his face betrayed what he was doing beneath the wood.
The boot continued its path, sliding with slow, firm intent up your leg, stroking the inner side of your thigh with deliberate pressure that sent a sudden, intense heat straight to your abdomen.
You held your breath. You felt the urge to yank your leg away, but desire and provocation proved stronger. To hide the tremble threatening to give you away, you let out a long, muffled sigh and pretended to shift in your chair, adjusting your posture slightly.
Seeing that you didn't pull back, Roman took your movement as an open invitation.
Beneath the table, he repositioned his leg and began moving the toe of his boot with bolder rhythm, rubbing it slowly against the curve of your thighs, teasing dangerously close to your sensitive core. You felt the fabric of your underwear begin to dampen again, betraying you under the audacity of his touch.
"Y/n, are you okay? You look a bit flushed," your mom asked suddenly from the head of the table, noticing your heavy breathing.
Panic shot down your spine. Beneath the table, Roman's boot didn't stop; on the contrary, he applied a little more pressure against your thigh, as if daring you to see if you could speak without breaking.
"Yeah, Mom... I just... got a little warm," you managed to say, gripping your napkin tightly while locking eyes with Roman.
He took a slow sip from his glass of water, looking like the most respectful guest at the table, while his foot kept secretly teasing you in full view of everyone. The challenge beneath the table was burning you up inside. All the jealousy poisonous to you all afternoon suddenly transformed into a reckless urge—a desperate need to take control and push back.
While the adults' conversation carried on in a monotonous tone, you casually dropped your right hand beneath the edge of the tablecloth. Your fingers found the firmness of his leg, and with firm, deliberate pressure on his calf, you pushed Roman's foot deeper between your legs, forcing the toe of his boot right against the fabric of your underwear.
A muffled throat-clear escaped Roman's lips.
Your stepfather had just dropped a casual comment about work, and Roman seized the exact moment to let out a quiet, subtle chuckle, passing it off as if he found the man's joke funny. But above the table, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a devouring intensity. He knew exactly what you had done.
Far from backing down, he accepted the challenge.
In the darkness beneath the table, the tip of his boot began applying a delicate yet constant pressure, moving in slow circles against your sensitive center. The rough friction of the leather over your pants sent electrical shocks straight to your belly. You held your breath, instinctively squeezing your thighs around his foot. You could feel the warm, betraying moisture soaking your underwear again, threatening to make you let out a moan right there in front of your family.
Roman kept his back straight, answering your mom with terrifying composure, while his foot never stopped stroking you in circles, enjoying every involuntary shudder of your body.
"Well, dinner was delicious, but it's getting late," your stepfather announced, sliding his chair back and breaking the trance instantly.
Roman slowly withdrew his foot, sliding it out from between your legs with a cruel slowness that left you with a cold emptiness and your breath completely cut off. Everyone at the table began standing up to clear the dishes.
You stood up in a hurry, straightening your clothes with trembling hands and skin still burning from the contact.
"I'll wash the dishes, Mom, don't worry," you offered immediately, your voice slightly breathless, desperately needing an excuse not to move around too much and hide the state he had left you in.
"You're so sweet, Y/n! Thank you," your mom said with a tired smile.
"Let me help you, Mrs. Martha," Roman’s deep voice chimed in behind you, stopping your mom before she could grab a tray. "You guys rest. Y/n and I can finish clearing the kitchen in a second."
"Oh, Roman, you're a gem," Vanessa sighed, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before stretching. "I'm dead tired, I'm heading up to the room."
They dispersed toward the stairs and the living room, leaving you alone in the dim kitchen with Roman, while the faucet began running in the sink and the built-up tension threatened to explode.
The tap water ran heavily into the sink, filling the kitchen with warm steam and a constant hum. Your hands were buried in soapy foam, trying to focus on washing dishes to ignore the trembling that still ran through your legs.
Slow, confident footsteps came to a stop right behind you.
Roman took less than three seconds to close the distance. He leaned against the counter edge, so close his shoulder almost brushed yours, and picked up a clean plate to dry it with a towel. However, his attention wasn't on the dish.
"I missed you so much..." he whispered suddenly, tilting his head just enough for his low, raspy voice to resonate strictly in your ear. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to have you this close again."
A soft, involuntary laugh escaped your nose. You shook your head slowly, letting a soapy plate drop back into the water while trying to keep your composure.
"You're an idiot... just shut up," you whispered back, biting your lip to hold back a nervous smile as you glanced at him sideways.
"I'm serious," he insisted, letting out a quiet chuckle before turning serious again. He dropped the towel on the counter and, without asking permission, slid his wet hand around your waist, subtly pulling you against his side where your mom or stepfather could walk down at any moment. "I've spent three weeks thinking about everything that happened in your room... and about how you pushed my foot under the table just now."
Your breath hitched. You shook your head again, your shoulder brushing his as you felt the heat of his hand tightening on your hip beneath the counter edge. The intimacy between you two was so thick that the danger of being just feet away from the living room seemed to evaporate.
Suddenly, a sharp creak echoed from the hallway.
"I'll be down for a glass of water in a second, honey!" your mom's voice rang out from the stairs, accompanied by the sound of her hurried footsteps descending.
Panic shot through you like an electric shock. Roman reacted with the speed of a predator: he let go of your waist in a split second, grabbed the plate near his hand, and turned toward the drying rack with flawless ease. You leaned heavily over the sink, turning the faucet on higher to plunge your hands into the foam and pretend to scrub frantically.
Your mom appeared in the kitchen archway, fixing her sweater, her eyes looking tired.
"Oh, great that you're almost done, kids," she said with a faint smile as she approached the fridge for a pitcher.
"Yes, Mrs. Martha, almost everything's ready," Roman answered with chilling composure, turning to look at her with the most polite, calm smile. "Just the glasses left."
Your mom poured her water without noticing that your breathing was completely out of control or that cold drops of sweat were running down your neck.
"Thank you so much, Roman. Goodnight, get some rest. Honey, don't stay up too late," your mom said, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before turning around and heading back upstairs.
The silence of the house settled back in as soon as your mom's footsteps faded on the top floor.
You exhaled all the air you'd been holding, resting both hands on the edge of the sink as you tried to calm your racing heart. Beside you, Roman let out a low laugh, leaning toward you again to brush the tip of his nose against the sensitive skin behind your ear.
"Close one..." he whispered in your ear, his lips practically pressed against your neck, letting the threat of what would happen later hang heavily in the air.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
The night advanced with excruciating slowness. The clock on your nightstand read just past two in the morning, and your eyes were still wide open, staring at the shadows on the ceiling.
Your mind couldn't rest. Every small creak of the floorboards, the breeze slipping through the window frame, or the distant gurgle of a pipe sent your pulse spiking instantly. You tossed and turned in bed, listening for any muffled footsteps in the hallway, convincing yourself every second that every shadow or sound was Roman coming to your room. The anticipation and the risk of getting caught kept you in a frustrating state of high alert, skin burning with the memory of his touch in the kitchen.
Finally, exhaustion began winning over paranoia. Your eyelids grew heavy and your breathing slowed, drifting you into that space between awake and asleep where your body finally gives in.
Suddenly, a muffled sound through the wall snapped you out of it.
It was murmurs. Quiet, muffled giggles coming directly from the room next door. You recognized Vanessa's voice instantly: that high-pitched, affectionate, overly sweet tone she only used with him. And then, Roman's response: a low, deep, unhurried murmur that pierced through the wall like a needle.
A bitter, toxic burn surged from your stomach straight to your throat.
You felt a cold knot tighten your belly so hard that for a second you had to cover your mouth with your hand, feeling genuinely nauseous, a physical urge to throw up out of sheer rage. The mental image of the two of them together on the other side of the wall, sharing sheets, touching in the dark while she drew that soft voice out of him, burned you up inside with uncontrolled jealousy.
You rolled onto your side in bed, turning your back to the wall and pressing the pillow against your ears to try and drown out the sound.
"What the hell was I thinking?" you told yourself in bitter thought, clenching your fists angrily against the sheets.
Tears of frustration stung your eyes. You felt furious with yourself for letting yourself get carried away in the kitchen, for pushing his foot under the table, and for believing, even for a second, that whatever you had was special or different. At the end of the day, Roman was nothing more than a cheater. A cynical guy who enjoyed the danger, who had taken advantage of an opportunity for a single night, and who was now sleeping peacefully next to his girlfriend as if nothing had happened.
You closed your eyes tightly, swallowing the bitter taste in your mouth and swearing to yourself that you would never fall for his game again.
The Saturday sun was at its peak and the smell of charcoal and grilled meat was already filling the backyard. Your stepfather was by the grill tending to the meat while your mom carried salads and plates out to the wooden garden table.
You were standing near the outdoor bar, pouring yourself a glass of ice, trying to keep your mind blank and your eyes far away from the table where Vanessa and Roman were sitting together. Roman was wearing a clean but casual t-shirt, looking flawless in the daylight, smiling at your mom with that polite charm that always worked for him.
Vanessa got up from the table and walked toward you with a light step. She wore a smug smile that made you grit your teeth before she even opened her mouth.
"Hey, Y/n," she said, leaning against the counter next to you and looking at you with fake sympathy that made you sick. "I noticed you were super quiet yesterday... so I told Matthew to drop by for the BBQ. I felt so bad seeing you here alone all weekend while Roman and I are having a good time."
You rolled your eyes with a annoyed grimace, pouring your soda without looking directly at her.
"That wasn't necessary, Vanessa," you said in the driest, most neutral voice possible. "I'm perfectly fine on my own."
"Oh, please, don't be a buzzkill. Matthew is super cool, he'll keep you company," she replied, waving it off with her hand just as the doorbell rang. "Look! That must be him."
Vanessa ran to open the door. You took a sip of your drink, but as you looked up, you ran straight into Roman's eyes.
He was sitting a few feet away, watching you in silence. He had the nerve to hold your gaze for a second before the footsteps of Vanessa and her guest echoed down the hall toward the garden.
"Hey everyone! Brought some beers," Matthew greeted, entering the yard with a relaxed smile. He was a tall guy, broad-shouldered and easygoing, who went to the same school as you.
After greeting your parents and Roman with a formal handshake, Matthew walked over to the bar where you were standing.
"Hey, Y/n. Nice to see you outside of school," he said with a warm, genuine smile, settling next to you without any pretense.
"Hey, Matthew. Glad you came," you replied, softening your tone to a much friendlier, lighter note, genuinely grateful that someone outside your family was there to distract you.
You started talking comfortably. Matthew turned out to be very charismatic: telling funny stories about teachers, laughing easily, and paying attention to you in a genuine way that made you forget the previous night's tension. You let out a genuine, natural laugh at one of his comments, tilting your head back slightly.
A few feet away, the atmosphere at the table shifted completely.
Roman set his glass down on the wooden table with a thud slightly louder than necessary. Vanessa was talking to him about something trivial, but he was no longer listening. His dark eyes were glued to the way Matthew leaned in slightly to whisper something in your ear, and how you smiled back at him.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. The serenity and cynicism Roman had displayed all morning vanished in a second, replaced by a sharp, burning jealousy at the sight of you laughing with someone else.
Matthew took a sip of his drink, keeping his relaxed posture but lowering his voice so it wouldn't carry across the counter. He leaned closer to you, pretending to be interested in the ice in his cup.
"Hey... quick question, don't get mad," he whispered, shooting a quick glance over your shoulder toward the table before fixing his eyes back on you. "Is that guy always like that?"
"Who? Roman?" you asked softly, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah," Matthew nodded with a slight grimace of distaste. "Honestly, I don't like him. At school, he's got a reputation for being a total player and manipulating everyone. I don't get a good vibe from how he treats Vanessa, but whatever... plus, ever since I got here, I've noticed he hasn't stopped staring at you weirdly. It's an intense look, I don't know how to explain it."
A cold shiver ran down your spine. You shook your head immediately, forcing a nervous laugh to brush it off before Matthew could notice anything off in your expressions.
"Oh, not at all... you're probably just imagining things," you said, crossing your arms and looking down at the grass. "He's my sister's boyfriend, we don't even get along."
"If you say so... but he hasn't taken his eyes off your back," Matthew insisted with a friendly smile, quickly changing the subject so as not to make you uncomfortable.
However, your own words felt empty. Driven by an involuntary urge, you slowly raised your eyes toward the dining table.
Roman was standing by the drink station pouring himself a glass of water, but he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. His dark, cold, intensely focused eyes were locked onto you. There wasn't a trace of the polite smile he showed your parents; just a heavy, silent possessiveness as he watched you standing a couple of feet from Matthew.
Feeling a heavy, strange knot in your stomach, you held his gaze for barely a second before turning back to Matthew. Your friend's warning echoed uncomfortably in your mind, leaving a bitter taste in your chest as you tried to get back into the conversation.
The afternoon continued with light chatter and the smell of grilled meat, until the dynamic in the garden took an unexpected turn.
Matthew politely excused himself to use the bathroom. Almost at the same time, Vanessa gave a small jump of excitement in her seat, announcing she was going to her room to put on her swimsuit because the pool was ready.
You remained standing near the bar, enjoying the few minutes of peace without Vanessa's presence or the pressure of Roman's gaze, who had just walked toward the table.
However, your peace was short-lived. Your stepfather approached the garden prep table with a frustrated expression while checking a couple of bags on the counter.
"Oh, come on... Martha, we forgot the thick napkins and the special charcoal you wanted," your stepfather said, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "And honestly, I don't feel like turning off the grill right now."
Your mom poked her head out of the kitchen door looking hurried.
"Don't worry, sweetie," your mom chimed in, turning immediately to look at the table.
"Y/n, Roman... could you quickly run to the shopping center a few blocks away? Just get those supplies and come right back, it won't take even fifteen minutes."
A shock of cold ran down your spine. You turned to look at your mom, eyes wide open, desperately searching for an excuse to refuse.
"Mom, Matthew is just coming out of the..." you tried to protest, but she cut you off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Matthew can wait ten minutes chatting with your stepfather, sweetie, it's fine. Please help us out so we can have everything ready for lunch."
You looked at Roman, hoping he would use his polite charm to invent any excuse and get out of it. But Roman just smiled with the most polite, cynical calm in the world, pulling his car keys from his pocket.
"Sure, Mrs. Martha, no problem at all. I'll go with her," he said with a smoothness that made you furious. "Let's go, Y/n."
Unable to refuse in front of your parents without raising suspicion, you had no choice but to clench your jaw and follow him silently toward the entrance.
You stepped outside, and the afternoon heat hit your face. Roman disarmed his car alarm—an immaculate vehicle that smelled exactly like that cologne you hated and desired at the same time—and opened the passenger door for you with a fake chivalry that made you roll your eyes.
You got into the seat without looking at him and slammed the door a bit harder than necessary.
Roman walked around the car, settled into the driver's seat, and closed his door. The enclosed space of the vehicle felt instantly overwhelming; the air grew thick, charged with a tension so dense you could cut it with a knife.
He started the engine, but instead of pulling away immediately, he placed his hand on the gear shift and turned slowly toward you, observing you silently in the tight space of the car before putting it in drive.
The car moved down the avenue in a tense silence. You kept your eyes fixed on the window, watching shops pass by with your arms tightly crossed over your chest.
Halfway through the drive, Roman took his right hand off the steering wheel and casually slid it onto the fabric of your pants, moving up your inner thigh.
The impact of the contact made you react instantly. You raised your hand and delivered a firm, sharp slap, knocking his arm away with a smack that echoed inside the vehicle.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Roman snapped, frowning in annoyance as he put his hand back on the wheel.
"I heard everything last night," you blurted out, your voice trembling with contained rage, without turning to look at him. "I heard every damn murmur with Vanessa on the other side of the wall."
A heavy silence settled in the car. Roman stayed quiet for a few seconds, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. The cold indifference in his eyes didn't shift an inch, but his posture visibly changed.
"That didn't mean anything..." he finally uttered in a flat, cold tone, as if justifying the most insignificant detail in the world.
You let out a bitter laugh and choked it back instantly, refusing to play into his hands or give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose control. You closed your eyes and clenched your fists over your legs, focusing solely on your breathing to avoid spiraling into desperation in the middle of traffic. You ignored him completely for the rest of the drive.
They arrived at the shopping mall a few minutes later. Instead of looking for a spot near the main entrance, Roman drove toward one of the most secluded, empty areas of the underground parking garage, parking next to a concrete pillar—a dimly lit spot well away from the flow of people.
You walked in icy silence through the supermarket aisles. You bought the thick napkins and charcoal within minutes, paid at the register without exchanging a single word, and returned to the vehicle.
Reaching the car, you put the bags in the backseat. You got straight into the passenger seat, expecting him to start the engine to head back home before your parents or Matthew noticed the delay.
However, the engine never started.
Roman closed his door, but he didn't put the key in the ignition. He settled into his seat, folded his hands over the steering wheel, and turned slowly toward you in the dim light of the underground parking garage, making it clear he had zero intention of leaving just yet.
You turned toward him, rage burning in your cheeks, ready to demand he take you home right now, but Roman beat you to it. He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned his body toward you, trapping you against the back of the passenger seat.
"Don't get like this with me..." he whispered in a low, raspy, strangely soft tone, searching for your eyes in the dark of the car. "Don't look at me like I'm a monster."
"Roman, start the car," you said through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice steady, even though your heart was pounding wildly in your chest.
"Listen to me for a second," he interrupted, sliding his fingers with calculated delicacy along your jawline, making your skin prickle despite your resistance. "I meant what I said yesterday. Being with Vanessa... it's not the same. She doesn't make me feel anything close to what I feel with you. She doesn't do it right, I don't like it, it doesn't even compare to the way you look at me or touch me."
The air in the car became suffocating. His words were a sweet poison that knew exactly where to strike: right at your jealousy and that absurd need to feel superior to your stepsister in his mind.
"You're a liar..." you managed to whisper, but your tone lost its edge.
"You know damn well I'm not lying," he insisted, closing the distance until his warm breath brushed your lips. His other hand lowered slowly onto the curve of your hip. "I've been thinking about what happened that night in your bed all damn day. Your skin, your sounds... I've been losing my mind ever since I saw that guy near you in the yard. I need to feel you again. Here. Now."
Your defenses began to crumble under the weight of his manipulation. The mix of adrenaline from the risk, the lie of his compliments, and the need to erase the image of him with Vanessa ended up clouding your judgment completely.
Roman noticed the hesitation in your eyes and gave you no room to think. He leaned in and captured your lips in a hungry, deep, dominant kiss, while his hand slid under your clothes.
You let out a shaky sigh against his mouth, closing your eyes and clinging to his shoulders, surrendering entirely to a game you knew would leave you hurt, but one you no longer wanted to escape.
Roman broke the kiss by just a millimeter, just enough to see how your breathing had grown as frantic as his. With a satisfied smirk he barely tried to hide, he pulled the lever on the side of his seat to recline the backrest a couple of notches, gaining just enough room in the compact cabin.
"Get over here..." he ordered in a husky whisper, gripping your waist firmly.
You didn't hesitate. Driven by the momentum of the tension and the need to drown out your own thoughts, you lifted one leg over the center console. You straddled him, fitting your thighs against the sides of his hips while the roof of the car felt like it was shrinking around you.
Roman let out a low growl of satisfaction as your full weight settled into his lap. His hands, large and warm, immediately slid down to the back of your thighs to secure his grip, pulling you even closer against his torso. You could feel the intense heat emanating from his body through his clothes and the racing beat of his heart thumping against his chest.
He brought one hand to the back of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair to tilt your face toward his. His dark eyes gleamed in the shadow of the underground garage with a hungry intensity, just waiting for you to make the next move.
You felt urgency burning through your veins as your fingers desperately searched for the button on his belt. The friction of your pelvis against his erection, even through the fabric, made you gasp. Roman watched you with a mix of adoration and depravity, thriving on your desperation.
"Do it... get this off me right now," he commanded, his voice vibrating against your chest while his hands squeezed your thighs hard enough to almost leave marks.
With clumsy movements driven by adrenaline, you managed to strip off your clothes and his, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the car, but the heat radiating from your bodies was enough to set the small space ablaze. You positioned yourself over him, guiding his length to your wet entrance, the fear of getting caught only serving to fuel your desire even more.
You sank down onto him all at once, letting out a muffled moan that was instantly swallowed by his lips. The sensation of being filled in such a tight space, surrounded by metal and glass that could reveal your secret at any second, shot your adrenaline to unbearable levels. Every time your hips rolled down, the car rocked gently on its suspension, producing a faint creak that made you hold your breath out of pure terror and pleasure.
"God..., if someone sees us... I don't even care," Roman growled, his breath ragged as he held you tightly so you wouldn't slip off his lap.
The heat of your bodies began transforming the environment; the fog of your arousal quickly built up, fogging the windows until they turned opaque, creating a bubble of darkness and desire where only the friction of skin and the fear of being caught existed.
Roman buried his face in the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of wet, erratic kisses that made you shudder. He wasn't just looking for pleasure; he was marking his possession. His lips moved down with deliberate force toward the area where your collarbone met your neck, and there, he gave you a soft bite followed by an intense, prolonged suction.
You felt your pulse racing in your throat as the sharp pain transformed into pleasure. In that moment, the outside world vanished; the risk of being discovered, time, consequences... none of it mattered. There was only the feeling of his tongue moving over your skin and the steady drive of his body, making you lose all sense of reality in a whirlwind of pure instinct.
Right at the moment when the air in the car was becoming suffocating from the heat of your bodies and the rhythm of your breathing, a loud sound shattered the atmosphere.
Roman’s phone ringtone echoed loudly from the center console compartment, accompanied by the white light of the screen flashing in the dimness.
The name "Vanessa" flashed in large letters.
Roman’s body froze beneath yours instantly. His hand stopped on your waist and the suction on your neck ceased abruptly. You both stayed motionless, chests rising and falling rapidly, holding your breath as the melody rang a second time.
Roman closed his eyes for a second, letting out an annoyed huff through his nose. With a quick movement and without you getting off his lap, he reached out and grabbed the phone. He tapped the screen to answer and hit speakerphone, keeping his voice as steady and calm as possible while looking you dead in the eyes.
"Hello?" he said with that clean, easy tone that sent your nerves skyrocketing.
"Roman? Where the hell are you guys?" Vanessa’s voice came through the speaker, heavy with sharp impatience. "You’ve been gone for over half an hour. Matt is out of the bathroom and my dad is waiting for the charcoal to put the meat on. What’s taking so long?"
You stayed completely petrified on top of him, digging your nails into his shoulders to avoid making the slightest sound. You felt your heart pounding violently right in your throat while Roman returned your gaze with an almost cynical calm, running one hand down your lower back to keep you pressed against him.
"Relax, Vanessa," he answered, without hesitating for a fraction of a second. "Traffic getting into the shopping mall was insane and the line to pay for the charcoal is super long. It was packed at the registers, but we’re all done now."
"Ugh, so annoying... Well, hurry up, please. I already put on my swimsuit and I’m waiting for you guys by the pool."
"We’re on our way now, I’ll be there in ten minutes," Roman replied, blunt but pleasant.
"Alright, don't take forever. I love you."
"Yeah, see you in a bit."
Roman hung up without replying to her "I love you" and tossed the phone back onto the passenger seat. Silence fell over the car again, but the tension had spiked to a dangerous level.
He let out a small, arrogant, dark smirk, seeing how the adrenaline had left your face flushed and your skin covered in goosebumps. "Ten minutes..." he whispered in your ear in a low voice, pressing your hips back down against him. "So you're going to have to hurry up."
Time blurred into a mix of heavy breathing, urgency, and the echo of the call resonating in the space. With the ten-minute countdown hanging over you, the pace became frantic, guided by the sheer desperation to meet the deadline without wanting to give up control of the moment.
Every second counted. The friction grew more intense and wild, forcing both of you to push the limit against the clock, heartbeats thumping in your ears and the constant risk that any extra second would give you away. Finally, a sharp, shared shudder ran through both of you, leaving you breathless, bodies pressed together in a suffocating embrace as you tried to pull yourselves together in the confined space of the car.
You stayed motionless for a few seconds, foreheads resting on each other's shoulders, greedily catching your breath to calm your racing chests and cool the flush on your faces.
With trembling fingers, forcing yourself to maintain composure, you adjusted your clothes, hair, and collar—clumsily hiding the fresh mark he had just left on you—before climbing back over to the passenger seat.
Roman took a deep breath, straightened his seatback, and put the key in the ignition, bringing the car's engine back to life.
As he maneuvered out of the underground parking garage and headed back onto the street toward the house, a smile of absolute triumph slowly formed on his face. It was a cynical, completely victorious expression; silent proof that despite the warnings, despite Vanessa, and despite your own mental walls, he had made you bend to his will once again.
The car pulled up in front of the house, and the festive backyard atmosphere could be heard from the driveway. You both got out in silence, carrying the grocery bags as if nothing had happened in the parking garage.
The moment you stepped into the garden, Vanessa ran out of the house wearing her swimsuit, heading toward Roman with a smile. She grabbed his arm familiarly and practically dragged him toward the pool area. Roman let himself be pulled along without resistance, shooting you one last quick glance out of the corner of his eye before diving into the water with her and your parents, who were relaxing on the lounge chairs.
You preferred to keep your distance and stayed near the outdoor bar next to Matthew, pouring yourself a glass of ice water to cool the heat still burning inside you.
Matthew leaned against the counter beside you, watching you calmly while taking a sip of his beer. However, when you tilted your head slightly to fix your hair, his gaze caught on the curve of your neck for a second—right where your skin looked red and swollen from the recent bite.
"Hey, Y/n..." Matthew said suddenly, pointing lightly toward the spot with his beer can. "You’ve got a pretty bad mark on your neck. What happened?"
A sudden chill ran down your spine. You instinctively placed your hand over your neck, covering the mark with your fingers while your mind scrambled for a plausible excuse.
"Oh... this," you replied, forcing a light smile and trying to sound as casual as possible. "Must’ve been a horribly huge mosquito in the underground parking garage. It was super humid down there."
Matthew held your gaze in silence for a few seconds. The mosquito excuse sounded far too weak for the shape of that mark, and the slight tension in your posture didn't escape his notice.
By the subtle narrowing of his eyes, you realized his suspicions about Roman's attitude toward you had just gained serious traction. However, Matthew chose not to push you or make the moment awkward.
"Hell of a mosquito..." he muttered in a neutral but sharp tone, making it clear he wasn't fully buying the story, but deciding not to press further.
Instead of asking more questions, Matthew changed the subject immediately, telling you about a show he had finished watching that week. You silently appreciated his tact in not ruining the mood.
You spent the rest of the afternoon talking and laughing at the bar, enjoying the food and the evening breeze. Even though you could feel Roman's constant presence across the yard in the pool, Matthew's genuine, calm company helped distract you and keep the peace until it was time for him to say goodbye and head home.
The house finally fell silent past midnight. The yard lights were turned off and everyone retired to their respective rooms to rest after the long BBQ day.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
In the bathroom of the main guest room, the shower steam was slowly clearing in front of the fogged mirror. Roman, a towel wrapped around his waist and wet hair falling over his shoulders, leaned against the sink.
He grabbed his phone. The blue light illuminated his face in the dimness, highlighting the crooked, arrogant smirk he had been holding back since the afternoon.
He opened his messaging app and found his chat with Hollis. His fingers typed rapidly across the screen:
Roman: You won't believe what I'm up to. I'm fucking both of them and Vanessa doesn't even suspect a thing.
Roman: The little sister loves playing hard to get, but she always ends up giving in anyway.
Barely a few seconds passed before the screen flashed with a reply notification.
Hollis: You're completely sick, bro. This stupid game is going to end terribly and you're gonna get wrecked.
Roman let out a low, muffled laugh that barely echoed off the bathroom tiles. He tilted his head, studying his own reflection in the mirror as he typed his final response with complete coldness and certainty:
Roman: My plans never go wrong.
He locked his phone, turned off the bathroom light, and opened the door slowly to step back into the shadows of the bedroom, ending the day in absolute control of the situation.
taglist: @girl2wink (this would not have been completed w/o u, ilysm <2) @gabisohot @angelverse222 @osxprincesa @girl2bad @ibelieveinfairyz @m1ndless-thoughtsss @lonelycatontheblock @sippingonsin @2yung2diie @antihumanfooorm thank u all for being so interested in this fic, it means so so much to me <2
Hollis was proud of the progress he’d made with Roman. Really, he was. He thought it was over before it even began when the boy initially blocked him less than 2 months ago, and now they were facetiming and texting almost everyday without fail. But leave it to Hollis to want something more. It just felt like there was something missing. Besides the fact that Roman rarely acknowledged Hollis’ existence at school.
They hadn’t hung out once since they met. Not a single time. Hollis’ interactions with Roman were limited to brief eye contact in the hallway, the accidental brush of hands in class when passing something over, and their midnight phone calls. Was it wrong for him to just want to see Roman away from everyone else, outside of a screen? Did that make him desperate?
He rolls the idea around in his head for a few days, trying to decide the best way to approach this. There was no doubt in his mind Roman would question him. Maybe he wouldn’t full-on reject the idea, but he’d definitely have stipulations. Every opportunity he had to ask the boy, he talked himself out of it and put it off for another day. ‘Tomorrow,’ he’d tell himself. Tomorrow became two more days, then four, then an entire week.
Hollis contemplated going to the group chat with it, but Nate and Ryan weren’t even fully sure why he still messed with Roman. Ryan especially wasn’t too happy with the idea of Hollis chasing after someone who couldn’t give him the time of day unless it was convenient. He had to deal with this himself.
It all just came out one night. He had been running different scenarios through his head the entire day, and when the phone lit up with Roman’s name, it was as if the words couldn’t hold themselves back anymore.
“What’s wrong?” Roman asks abruptly. They’d been on the phone for less than 5 minutes, and Hollis was already acting off. There was a slight look of concern on Roman’s face that the phone caught, propped up by a pillow as Roman lay adjacent to it.
“Nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing. You look like you’re thinking about something.” Roman sits up, bringing the phone with him.
Hollis exhales, deciding there was no way around this anymore. Roman would press him about it until he got annoyed and eventually hung up, and Hollis wasn’t in the mood to beg. Hopefully Roman’s reaction wasn’t too harsh.
“I know we don't… like hang out at school or anything, and that’s fine, I guess. But does that mean all hang outs are off limits?” Hollis swallows his anxiety, praying Roman can’t hear it in his voice.
“Are you asking me out right now?” Roman’s face twisted with an emotion Hollis couldn’t quite read, but he hoped it wasn’t disgust.
“It doesn’t have to be a date, Roman. I just want to see you. We only talk on the phone. Think of it as just a casual hang out between two friends.” Hollis feels his desperation building and he mentally curses himself for it. This hold Roman had on him was an addiction and a curse all in one, something he’d never fully wrap his head around.
“So you’re not asking me out?”
“Roman, please.” So much for not begging.
“What do you even wanna do?” Roman’s eyebrows furrow, caving ever so slightly. Progress.
After running over a few different ideas he had, they finally settled on something. They’d go see a movie, some new action film that Hollis had already forgotten the name of, and get something to eat. Roman was hesitant on the second part of the plan, insisting it sounded too much like a date, but eventually caved.
“I’m only free on Saturday, though. Family shit.” Roman yawned as the clock hit 1 a.m.
“Okay. Saturday then. Don’t stand me up.” Hollis teased, watching Roman scrunch up his face again.
“Shut up. Goodnight, Holli.”
Hollis felt his heart flutter once again at the nickname, as if most of his friends didn’t call him the exact same one. It sounded different coming from Roman’s lips. Softer. Intimate.
“Night, Ro.”
𓂃⋆.˚
Saturday rolls around slower than Hollis wants it to, but it rolls around nonetheless. He sits on the floor an hour before he’s meant to be at the theater, deciding on what shirt to wear. This shit was ridiculous.
“You’re gonna be in the dark for most of the date, Holls.” Chessa’s voice emitted from his phone. He’d called her as she was the only friend of his who wasn’t wary of Roman at the moment.
“Not a date.” Hollis mumbled, tossing yet another shirt back into the drawer.
“Yeah, okay, whatever. Date, hangout, whatever the fuck. It doesn’t matter what you wear, he’s not going to be looking at your clothes.”
“I guess.” Hollis decides on a black tank, pulling on a hoodie over it.
“Perfect. You look fine. Now hurry up before you’re late. I don’t need him bitching in my messages.”
Hollis laughs at this, easing up a bit. He had enough to be nervous about today, and his outfit should be the least of his problems.
(He still ends up changing jeans once more before heading out.)
The theater’s lobby is mostly empty except for a mother and her child as well as a group of teenage girls who, thankfully, do not go to Hollis’ school. He scans the area for anyone else and meets eyes with none other than Roman. There’s a softness to his appearance, a slight glow if you will. Maybe that was just Hollis’ lovesick brain. But he could tell he brushed out his hair, leaving it fluffier. Hollis loved the usual curls Roman sported, but this was cute, too.
“Finally you show up.” Roman sets his phone down as Hollis approaches him. “And you said I’d stand you up.”
Hollis feels his face heat up as Roman nudges him, an inch of space between the two. This was more than the accidental brush of hands in the classroom as they passed papers.
“I was like two minutes late, please.” Hollis rolls his eyes, nudging Roman back.
The brunet simply pulls Hollis by his sleeve over to the register, looking at the signs above their heads to see what snacks were offered. Hollis fidgeted with his jeans until he located his wallet, pulling out his card.
“What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.” Hollis leans closer to Roman’s ear to ask.
Roman shakes his head, reaching into his own wallet and handing the cashier $30.
“We can just share popcorn.”
“I was gonna pay for it.” Hollis all but pouts, eyebrows furrowing.
“Aw, you gotta be quicker than that, Holli.” Roman turns to thank the cashier as she hands him fresh popcorn and two cups. Hollis gets a red slushie while Roman gets blue with a little bit of Coca-Cola at the bottom.
They find their seats at the back of the showing room, which is relatively empty. The nearest person is 3 rows up, giving them enough space to talk without being shushed. Hollis’ slushie is almost gone from nervous chugging, while Roman has only taken maybe two sips.
The movie is interesting to say the least. It’s a bunch of bad sound effects and overdone stunts, but it’s entertaining. Hollis’ favorite part was not the actual movie itself but the laughter its stupidity brought out of Roman. His laugh was even more intoxicating in person than it was on the phone, and Hollis felt as if he’d do anything to hear it again.
Since the popcorn bucket rested in Roman’s lap, Hollis finds himself having to reach over the boy frequently. Their fingers touch on multiple occasions, and it flusters Hollis to the point of apology. Roman is as nonchalant as he usually is, but Hollis notices the slightest smile every time their fingertips brush. He wonders if the sensation gives him butterflies, too, or if it’s all intentional and he’s teasing him. After it happens a fifth time, Hollis decides he’s done with the popcorn.
The movie ends after what feels like forever, and Hollis can’t hold back his own laughter as the credits roll. Roman looks at him like he’s crazy but eventually laughs, too, an amused giggle hidden behind his hand. A quiet yet mutual agreement between the two: that movie sucked.
They exit the theater and Hollis squints as the lighting changes, shielding his eyes with his hand as they walk back to his car. Roman doesn’t seem to be bothered at all, not by the burning hot Sun or the warmed metal of the seatbelt’s buckle. He’s been relatively calm this entire hangout, and it’s refreshing. Hollis doesn’t feel like he’s walking on eggshells, trying not to piss him off and get the silent treatment or some other cruel punishment.
“Can we go eat now? I’m starving.” Roman groans, resting his head against the dashboard. Hollis laughs and shifts the car into drive, reaching to turn on the radio.
“I can’t see how. You fucking devoured that popcorn.”
Roman lightly shoves his arm, nostrils flaring. “No, I fucking didn’t, shut up.”
Hollis barks out a laugh and turns up the radio, watching Roman’s scowl turn into a smile from the corner of his eye.
They pull into the drive-thru of a McDonald’s that’s been there since long before Hollis was born, probably, if its condition was anything to go by. The food was mediocre, but it was cheap and Hollis couldn’t be bothered to drive 30 minutes out to a nice diner or something. Roman would probably appreciate a less public spot anyways.
Besides, sitting in the car, blasting music, and stealing fries from Roman was probably more fun. He cackles as Roman swats his hands away, yelling at him to eat his own food.
“Wait, okay, you’ve never heard of Al Green?” Hollis leans back against the driver’s seat, a fry hanging out of his mouth.
Roman scrunched up his nose at the behavior, looking down at his burger. “I’ve heard of him, I think, I’ve just never listened to him.” He shrugs, taking a sip from Hollis’ drink.
“That’s mine.” His face heats up once again, waiting for Roman’s expression to shift to embarrassment or realization. It never does.
“I know. I wanted Coke.”
“Oh. Okay, um… What about Justice? Have you listened to them?”
“Dude, who are these people?” Roman snorted, shaking his head.
“It’s good music! Here.” He grabs his phone, opening Spotify and pulling up Love and Happiness by Al Green. He grabs his tangled earbuds from his pocket and plugs them into his phone, offering Roman one. The brunet looks at him suspiciously, to which Hollis just sighs and places it in his ear for him.
“Trust me.” He presses play, placing the other earbud in his own ear. The opening chords begin to play, and while Roman’s face doesn’t change much, Hollis notices his hand ever so softly tapping his leg to the rhythm.
“You like it.” Hollis beams, nudging Roman. He rolls his eyes, jerking his shoulder away from him. Even so, he makes no attempt to pause the song or take out the earbud. Hollis’ heart jumped at the idea of sharing something with Roman and him actually enjoying it. A sense of pride, maybe. Or perhaps just pure, unbridled joy.
𓂃⋆.˚
Hollis contemplates ending the day here, not wanting to step out of bounds by inviting Roman to his house. But, surprisingly, Roman beats him to it, telling him he didn’t wanna go home just yet, that it was still early.
So they ended up back in Hollis’ room, his Mom out and his brother at a friend’s house. Roman peered around the new space like a caged animal newly relocated, curious and a bit intrigued. He kept his hands for the most part, until he saw Hollis’ computer open on the bed to yet another one of his unfinished projects.
“I didn’t know you made music.” He sits on his bed, looking to Hollis as if to ask if he could hear.
“I told you I did.” Hollis sits next to Roman, scrolling to a project he was a bit more proud of.
“Yea, but I thought you meant like… as something to pass the time or some shit. Not seriously.” He turns and blinks at him with an expression Hollis, once again, couldn’t quite read.
“You wanna hear?” Hollis chuckles.
Roman nods. So for the next 30 minutes or so, Hollis shows Roman a few different songs, many of which he’s uploaded. Hollis was not shy about his music, he knew that much. He wanted it to reach millions one day, and he knew the only way for that to happen was to put it out there. But having this boy he felt so strongly about willingly listening to his music and seeming to enjoy it? That was an entirely different feeling, one he was sure he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not like this.
Roman kept glancing at him between songs, like he was analyzing the person who made the very music he was listening to. The looks ranged from a few seconds to full moments, especially lingering on his face. Hollis did his best to pretend he didn’t notice, but he could feel this growing tension between them, the feeling of being watched and admired.
“Hollis…” Roman finally spoke, voice slightly raspy after prolonged silence.
“Yea?” Hollis clears his own throat, taking the risk and turning to him. His pupils are definitely larger than he remembers, and there’s a flush to his face that doesn’t match the cool temperature of the room.
Before Hollis can even process these two factors, Roman’s mouth is on his. It knocks the breath out of him, he’ll admit, but he quickly falls into it, breathing through his nose. Roman tastes like the slushie he drank at the theater and probably ketchup but Hollis couldn’t give less of a fuck. He was kissing Roman. Roman was kissing him.
His heart felt like it might beat out of his chest, the strong burst of adrenaline dizzying. Hollis grabs any part of Roman that he can reach, scared the moment would end as quickly as it began. His right hand trailed up his back, fingers burying in Roman’s hair. His fingers caught onto a single plait, hidden by the rest of the boy’s (rather soft) hair. He feels around some more and registers another braid, just a few inches away from the first. Hollis pulls away from the kiss and laughs, staring into the eyes of a kiss-drunken Roman.
“What’s funny?” He furrowed his eyebrows, already leaning in for more.
“Nothing, nothing…” Hollis pecks his lips, trying to initiate another kiss.
“Something’s funny.” Roman pulls back, a slight pout on his lips. Hollis wants to kiss it off. If only he’d let him.
“It’s nothing, Ro. Just the braids, I didn’t notice them before. They’re cute.” Hollis finally reconnects their lips. Roman makes no attempt to protest or press more, melting into the kiss.
They make out for what feels like hours, and might as well be. Roman ends up straddling Hollis’ waist at some point, the latter’s large hands sliding up his shirt. Roman shivers a bit as his cold fingers grip at his waist, but soon they warm with the effort of his body heat.
He climbs off of him and flops down beside the blond to catch his breath as the Sun begins to set. They stare at the ceiling in silence for a few minutes before Hollis hesitantly reaches out his hand for Roman to grab. The boy stares at it for a few seconds, and Hollis closes his eyes to try and lessen the embarrassment he’s feeling until he feels warm fingers intertwining with his own. His eyes open, head turning to face Roman, who looks back at him.
He looks so soft in this moment, like an angel fallen right into Hollis’ bed. He wishes he could stay here like this forever, with Roman looking at him in a way he never has before. But his mother would be home soon, and Angus would probably bring over a friend or two to play video games, and the moment would be awkward and ruined. He pushed those thoughts out of his head, trying to live in the now, in the present, enjoy Roman’s warmth while he still had it.
He watches the slow rise and fall of his chest, imagining his ear pressed against it, listening to the quiet thumping of his heart. Had it slowed now that they’d stopped kissing? Or was physical contact simply enough to raise his heart rate? Because it was definitely enough for Hollis.
He feels his eyelids growing heavier, exhaling as he closes his eyes for just a second. He quickly opens them again, as if to make sure Roman had not suddenly disappeared. He hadn’t. He stares back at Hollis, blinking every so often. It doesn’t creep him out or unsettle him. Instead, it comforts him, to know Roman’s attention was solely on him.
He closes his eyes again and does not remember anything after that.
When he opens them again after what must’ve been a few hours, Roman is gone. He hears his mother on the phone in the kitchen, and Angus yelling at his game, but no Roman. He groans and reaches for his phone, pressing the side button just once. 10:15 p.m. Hollis feels a deep ache in his chest, a mixture of disappointment and longing. He pulls up Roman’s contact a few seconds later.
Hollis worried about Roman. Did something happen when he went home? Had he gotten in trouble for being out so late? Had he heard his mom or brother coming in and got scared? So many different thoughts at once, endless scenarios and possibilities. Hollis scanned through each one in his head until he grew tired and fell asleep again, phone resting face down on his chest.
𓂃⋆.˚
Contrary to what he told him the previous day, Roman did not text or call him at all on Sunday. Not in the morning, not in the afternoon, not in the evening to explain his absence. Midnight rolled around and there was no facetime call. He checked his phone every time it pinged but found only app notifications or texts from the group chat. Where was Roman?
He waited up until almost 2 am, hoping and praying Roman would just send a text or try to dial his phone. Nothing. Hollis had to be up for school in a few hours, so he sighed and set his phone on the dresser, rolling over. He stared at the spot Roman lay less than two days ago, now cold and empty the way he left it. Hollis fell asleep imagining he was there again, holding onto his hand the way he did that night.
Hollis’ concern turned into irritation and frustration when he saw Roman in the halls that Monday morning, talking to Chessa and a few of his other friends. He looked perfectly fine, not dejected or out of it. He laughs at a joke a girl Hollis remembers to be named Hailee makes. Nate settles beside Hollis near the lockers, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Roman. He stares so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he burned a hole through him.
When Roman finally feels eyes on him, he follows them and is soon staring back at Hollis. There is no nod or smile this time. His eyes do not light up ever so slightly the way Hollis began to notice they did recently. He stares at him for a few seconds before he looks away, back to Hailee, Chessa, and the others.
All that progress on Saturday, what was it for? The jokes, sharing food, Roman being the first person outside of Hollis’ friend group to hear his music? The kiss? They made out for almost a fucking hour in Hollis’ room, in Hollis’ bed, when no one else was home and now Roman was scowling at him?
Hollis tried not to let it affect him. He didn’t want to overthink this or believe that Roman would pull something like this after everything they did together just two days ago. Because that would then lead him to finally see him how Nate and Ryan did. And Hollis didn’t want to see him that way. He liked Roman. Really liked him.
So he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and carried on with the school day, hoping Nate or Ryan had something entertaining to distract him.
But the final straw would come no more than a few hours later, when he texted Roman once he made it home. It made his heart drop to his stomach, and he could feel the rose-colored lenses start to fall. Hollis felt stupid. Helplessly and utterly stupid.
okay wait hear me out on mean rommulas x bimbo reader who keeps making him mad on accident pls speed i need this
a/n: no because the way that ive been having the same idea in my head for a while...great minds think alike and then i was reading the paleta lyrics "neta, quiero una mensa" you want a dumb girl? this pairing was meant to be
∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙
The front door swings open after a couple knocks, "Yo." Roman steps inside, immediately greeted by the familiar smell of Hollis's house. Hollis reaches over, pulling him into one of those quick one-armed hugs before shutting the door behind him, "What's up?"
"Shit nothing." Roman shrugs, slipping his shoes off. "You?"
"I ordered Chinese from that new spot that opened."
Roman hums. "Any good?"
"Dunno," Hollis shrugs, "first time trying it." Roman nods, following him toward the living room. "Oh, yeah." Hollis glances over his shoulder. "You don't mind if my sister eats with us, do you?" Roman shakes his head, "Nah." He says that as if he isn't inches deep in your pussy every night.
Hollis nods, "Cool, she was asking if she could have orange chicken." Footsteps padded down the hallway. You wander into the kitchen, the smell of takeout catching your attention. The second you spot Hollis, your face lights up, "Hi, Hollis!"
"Hey," He smiles, pulling you into a quick side hug before letting you go, "just get what you want." You nodded happily, "Okay." Then your eyes find Roman and your face softens. Then, you remember the very long list of rules he'd texted you and you straighten up. "Hi," your tiny smile disappeares into a dramatic little pout before you quietly added, "Roman."
Roman doesn't even look at you he simply reaches for the TV remote on the counter as if you hadn't spoken. Hollis glances between the two of you, "Damn you two still don't like each other?" Once everyone starts piling food onto their plates the three of you eat in comfortable silence. You scoop another piece of orange chicken onto your plate before pausing, "Huh." Hollis looks up from his food, "What?" You hold up a piece of chicken with your chopsticks, "Why is it called orange chicken?"
"It's the sauce."
You look down at it, "But there's no oranges."
Hollis shrugs, "I don't know it's orange colored."
You hum thoughtfully, "Do they make the chicken orange first...or after?" Roman stops chewing and Hollis looks at you for a second before answering, "After I'd assume."
"Makes sense," you nod, completely satisfied. The three of you ate quietly for a few minutes well you ate quietly. Roman and Hollis eventually drifts into their own conversation. "I still think that beat sounded better before you changed it," Hollis said between bites. Roman shakes his head, "I dunno it sounded fine."
You continue eating your orange chicken listening while your eyes stay glued to your plate. "You just like overproducing shit," Hollis says. Roman scoffs, "I don't overproduce anything." You lean forward a little still pretending to be completely invested in your fried rice. Hollis doesn't really notice but Roman does and he looks over then you look back down at your food. He returns to the conversation, "So you're saying less is more?"
"I'm saying you don't need thirty layers on every You lean in a little farther almost unconsciously. Your elbow was practically on the table now and Roman stops mid-sentence and looks at you, "Can I help you?" You blin. "What?"
"You've been listening to us for five minutes."
You look genuinely confused, "Yeah." Hollis looks over at you, "Were you?"
You nod, "Mhm. You guys are talking and I wanted to hear." Hollis laughs then goes back to talking about a beat he'd been working on. Roman answers every now and then, barely looking up from his food. Under the table a foot brushes against his but he ignores it. A second later it happens again and it lingers.
He glances down and sees your foot. Roman slowly lifts his eyes. You weren't even looking at him just happily eating your orange chicken like nothing was happening. Hollis keeps talking and Roman gives you a hard look. You catch it and smile then innocently took another bite of your food. A few seconds later your foot finds his again. He quietly nudges your foot away beneath the table.
Without missing a beat you bring it right back this time your foot resting lightly against his ankle. He hooks his foot around yours just long enough to push it back onto your side, a firm and silent "stay over there." You had to bite back a grin and focus on eating your dinner instead of looking at Roman.
Your foot comes back again, only this time, you don't stop at his ankle. You drag your foot upward until your heel rests directly against his crotch. Roman's entire body goes rigid his fork stopping halfway to his mouth. Hollis is still rambling about something but Roman isn't hearing a word of it.
Under the table, his leg jerks slightly, trying to shift your foot away without Hollis noticing but you don't move. Roman excuses himself abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He mutters something about needing the restroom and quickly walks away from the table.
Hollis took another bite of his food before glancing toward the hallway. Then he leaned across the table a little, "Can I tell you something I've noticed." You look up, "Hm?"
"Between you and me..." His voice drops conspiratorially, "I think Roman's got a secret girlfriend or something." You blink, "Really?"
"Yeah he thinks he's good at hiding it though."
Your stomach drops, "He does?"
"Mhm I can tell."
You stare at Hollis, "How?"
"I don't know, " he shrugs, "it's just a feeling."
"He'll randomly smile at his phone, he's always texting somebody, and if you ask who it is he gets weird."
You swallow, "Weird?"
"Yeah like he'll tell me to mind my own business."
You stared down at your plate, "Oh."
Your orange chicken suddenly wasn't nearly as interesting. He...has another girl? No...what if she's prettier? Maybe that's why he left the table.
Your shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Hollis keeps talking, completely unaware, "I've known him forever so I know when something's up. I bet he won't tell us until they're, like, extremely serious or some shit"
You force a tiny smile, "Maybe." A lump forms in your throat and you poke absentmindedly at your fried rice. Hollis finally notice, "You okay? You got quiet."
You smile, "I'm okay."
"You sure?"
"Mhm just thinking."
∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•
After dinner Hollis puts on his favorite TV show that he's been wanting to show Roman. Both Roman and Hollis sit on the same couch while you sit on a recliner nearby being suspiciously quiet. Hollis thinks maybe you're actually hyperfocused on something for once but Roman knows better.
The show drones on in the background. Hollis glances down at his phone, "Oh, shit." Roman looks over, "What?"
"Seventy percent chance of rain in like an hour."
Roman shrugs, "So?"
"Dude, driving in the rain sucks." Hollis leans back against the couch, "You should probably just stay here tonight."
Roman thinks about it for a second, "Maybe."
"I mean, you've stayed over before."
"Mhm."
"I've got an extra blanket somewhere."
Roman nods once, "Yeah, maybe."
"Where's the other thirty percent going?"
The room falls silent and Hollis slowly turns toward you, "What?" You look up from the bowl of popcorn in your lap, "The rain you said seventy percent." You frown, genuinely trying to figure it out, "Where's the other thirty percent going?"
Roman closes his eyes, "It doesn't go anywhere."
You tilt your head, "Then why isn't it one hundred?"
Hollis opens his mouth and closes it, "I-"
Roman sighs, "It means there's a seventy percent chance it's gonna rain."
"So the other thirty percent is just...nothing?"
Hollis starts laughing, "I don't know how to explain weather to you." Another episode came and went then another. By the fourth Roman was stretched one arm over the back of the couch and a yawn escapea him. Hollis looks over, "I knew you were getting tired." Roman frowns, "I'm not."
"Come on you are."
Roman rubs a hand over his face, "I'm fine." Hollis snorts, "Yeah okay but seriously it's late."
Roman glances toward the window at the rain tapping steadily against the glass now.
"I'll grab you a blanket." Hollis stands up, stretching as he walked toward the hallway closet, "I think I washed it." Roman leana back against the couch, "Don't worry about it."
"Nah I'll get you a clean ond." Hollis disappears down the hall and you look at Roman a tiny smile slowly creeping onto your face.
Roman notices, "What."
You shake your head, "Nothing."
"You look happy."
You couldn't help it, "You get to stay."
Roman stares at you for a second, "Calm down."
"I'm trying."
Roman looka away before the corners of his mouth betray him. Then Hollis walks back in carrying a folded blanket, "Here it is." He tosses it onto the couch, "You can sleep here." Roman catches it, "Thanks." Hollis points toward the recliner, "And you." You look up, "Mhm?"
"Leave Roman alone so he can sleep go to yojr bedroom."
You smile, "Okay."
"Hollis yawns himself, "I'm gonna brush my teeth." He disappears down the hallway again and the second he was gone you look over at Roman. He was already looking at you neither of you said a word you just smile.
Roman sighs, "You're impossible." Your smile somehow gets even bigger and he rolls his eyes. You stand up from the recliner and Roman figures you were heading to bed instead you wander over to the couch and Roman looks up, "What?"
You lean down until your lips were beside his ear. Your voice barely above a whisper, "Meet me in the bathroom in twenty minutes." You smile to yourself completely pleased with your plan, "Okay, goodnight." You turn and skip happily down the hallway toward your bedroom.
∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•
From down the hall came the faint click of Hollis's bedroom door locking, followed by muffled footsteps as he got ready for bed. Roman waits another minute just to be sure then he heads to the bathroom. He rests a hand on the knob and slowly he pushes the door open.
The first thing he feels are soft lips against his. You'd been waiting just behind the door. Roman barely has time to register what was happening before you wrap your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss. He kisses you back almost instinctively, one hand finding your waist. After a few seconds, he pulled back just enough to look at you, "You scared the shit out of me."
You giggle, "I wanted to surprise you."
"You did." He looks toward the closed bathroom door behind him then back at you, "This was your big secret plan?"
You nod proudly, "Mhm."
Roman stares at you for a long moment then lets out a quiet laugh through his nose, "You're a dumb ass." He shakes his head, "I can't believe you thought telling me to meet you in the bathroom was a good idea."
"It worked I got my kiss."
Roman couldn't even argue with that, "You're lucky you're cute." Your smile only grows, "I know that too." He rolls his eyes, "Cocky now?"
"Hey you said it." You grin up at him, "I missed you." Roman looks down at you, "We've been in the same apartment for four hours."
"I know but I still missed you."
He shakes his head, "You're clingy."
"So," you rock back on your heels, "did I do good?" Roman frowns, "At what."
"Keeping our secret."
"You did...better than usual."
You gasp, "So I did good!"
"I didn't say that."
"You kinda did you said better that's basically good." Roman scoffs, "Sure." Your entire face lights up, "I knew it!" Without thinking, you throw your arms around him again. Roman catches you before you stumble into the sink, "Watch it."
"Sorry."
"You've got the balance of a newborn deer. Roman just stares at you, "How are you real?" You were just about to say something then a knock echoea against the bathroom door. Your smile vanishea and both of you freeze. Hollis's muffled voice comes through the door, "Hey, Y/n?" Your eyes widen, "Yeah?"
"I think I left my phone charger in there." Roman's head slowly turna roward you and you stare back at him your expression completely blank. Hollis speaks again, "Can I come grab it?"
Roman reacts before you do slipping past you as quietly as possible, ducking behind the shower curtain. The plastic rings give the faintest shhht as they slide across the rod. You glance at the curtain then back at the door, "Yeah." You unlock it and rhe door swings open Hollis stepping inside without a second thought, "My bad."
He walks straight to the counter. You stand awkwardly beside the sink with your hands clasped behind your back. Hollis rummagea around for a second, "Where the hell..." His eyes land on the charger tucked beside the toothbrush holder, "There it is." He picka it up, "You brushing your teeth?"
You nod a little too fast, "Mhm."
"Without your toothbrush?"
You looked down at the empty counter, "Oh I...forgot it." Hollis laugh, "How do you forget the toothbrush?" You smile sheepishly, "I don't know."
He shakes his head, "You're something else."
You giggle nervously, "Mhm."
"Night."
"Goodnight."
The door clicka shut and you wait and listen. Footsteps fade down the hallway and a door closes. Only then did the shower curtain slowly slide open. Roman stepa out, looking completely unimpressed, "Brushing your teeth?"
You look at him, "I panicked..." Roman sighs, "I should go." You pout, "So soon?"
"It's one in the morning."
"Five more minutes."
"You said that ten minutes ago."
"I know."
He leans down and kissea your forehead, "I'm serious."
"Fine I'll let you leave."
"Thank you." He reachea for the doorknob and you grab the sleeve of his hoodie, "One more kiss."
"No."
"But you love me."
He leans down and gives you one quick kiss, "There."
You smile, "Again."
Roman glares, "You're pushing your luck."
"Puhhhlease?"
He sigha and kisses you again, "Now I'm leaving."
"Okay."
He takes exactly one step before your fingers wrap around his wrist, "Roman."
"What."
"I forgot to hug you."
"Make it quick..."
You melt into him your cheek pressing against his chest. Roman rubs your back, "Happy?"
"Mhm."
"Now let go."
"One second!"
"You've had several."
"I know."
Roman gently peels your arms away, "Go to bed."
"You too."
"I will."
"Text me when you wake up."
"I'll sleep in your brother's living room you'll know."
"But still!"
"I'll text you."
You grin, "Good."
Roman cracks the bathroom door open first and peeks into the hallway. He looks back at you, "Wait thirty seconds and don't come out right behind me."
"I won't I promise."
Roman nods once then quietly disappeares down the hallway. You count on your fingers, "One, two, three..." By the time you reached ten you get bored. You open the bathroom door and at that exact moment Roman was walking back out into the hallway because he'd forgotten his phone on the kitchen table. Roman whispers, completely exasperated, "That wasn't thirty seconds." You smile sheepishly, "It felt like thirty."
Roman just looks at the ceiling, "I'm dating an idiot." He shakes his head, "Go to bed." You pad back to your room as quietly as you can. You slipp beneath your blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a content little sigh. Today had been nice you ate takeout, watched a movie, and Roman got to stay over.
You smile into your pillow he said you were doing better that made you happy. Maybe next time you'd be even sneakier maybe instead of the bathroom the laundry room. You frowned thoughtfully no too small but what about the kitchen? You picture Roman standing beside the refrigerator and you smile that could work. Then another thought wanders into your head you wonder if fish get thirsty.
Well no that'd be weird because they're already in water. Maybe they just drink the water they're in? You make a mental note to ask Hollis tomorrow. Satisfied that you'll remember you roll onto your side, hugging your pillow. Within minutes your breathing evens out and fall fast asleep.
∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•∘˙○˚.•
Your eyes flutter open to total darkness and you frown. You weren't sure what woke you. You roll over and squint at the little clock on your nightstand "3:42 a.m.' You weren't even thirsty and you didn't have to use the bathroom you were just awake. You stare at the ceiling for a while then you wonder if Roman's asleep. You quietly slip out of bed, careful not to let the floor creak.
You crack your bedroom door open and head to the living room. You creep closer to the couch, your bare feet making no noise on the carpet. Your eyes adjust, catching the shape of Roman's form on the couch. Roman's laying on his back, shirtless, one arm thrown over his forehead. His chest rises and falls slowly, steady. The moonlight from outside catches the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his bottom lip. He looks impossibly peaceful and you hesitate, biting your lower lip before you softly poke his cheek. Roman's eyes fly open and his hand shoots up, grabbing your wrist a little too hard.
"The fuck-" he mutters, voice still thick with sleep amd eyes sharp with alertness. Then he recognizes your face in the darkness, "What are you doing?" he whispers roughly, "it's late asf." You blink innocently at him, pulling your wrist back gently when he loosens his grip. "To see you duh..." you murmur softly, biting your lip. He stares at you, completely unfazed by how absurd that sounds. "Duh?" he repeats flatly, exhaling slowly, "is that why you're dressed like that." You look down at yourself a cropped tank top that barely covers your chest and tiny boyshorts that leave nothing to the imagination. "It's cute isn't it? I thought you'd like it," you give him a little pose.
Roman's jaw tightens, eyes flicking over your body briefly before looking away, his expression unreadable. "Jesus," he mutters under his breath, sitting up slowly and rubbing his face. "Go back to bed before Hollis sees you out here." You don't move instead, you shuffle closer until your shin brushes the edge of the couch.
"I couldn't sleep," you whisper, leaning forward so he can see your big, confused eyes clearly. "It's three in the morning," he whispers, tapping your nose gently, "go back to your room." Yet you're still there and you don't leave. Roman watches you with that weary look he always has with you. "Seriously," he says, quieter this time, "go back to bed." You just stare at him, completely ignoring his request.
"But I'm lonely" you whine softly, stepping even closer. "And you're here I don't wanna be alone." Your eyes go wide and pleading. "Can I cuddle with you pretty please?" You're already leaning forward like you're going to just climb into his lap anyway. Roman knows you you're stubborn and absolutely incapable of listening to logic when you want attention.
He catches your hips with a firm hand before you can fully climb onto him, sighing heavily, "Come on your brother is literally down the hall." You pout, your bottom lip sticking out exaggeratedly. "He sleeps like the dead, you know that," you whisper, batting your eyelashes up at him.
You ignore his hand on your hips and try to nudge your way between his legs anyway. "Just for five minutes I'm cold." You lean your weight against him, practically melting into his lap. With a defeated groan, Roman lets you settle into his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you from falling off the couch. "Five minutes," he warns sternly, already knowing you'll ignore the time limit.
His hand rests possessively on your thigh as he pulls a blanket over both of you. You immediately melt into him, tucking your head under his chin and burying your face against his warm, bare chest. He rubs your bare back slowly, "Five minutes then you go back to your room."
"Five minutes is too short," you mumble against his chest, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his cheer. "Let me stay until sunrise please?" Roman rubs his palm slowly up and down your spine, "Absolutely not you're lucky Im letting you right now." You stay quiet for a few minutes before looking up at him with a mischievous smile.
"Don't," he warns. "What? I just think I deserve a reward for keeping our secret." Roman's eyes narrow, jaw tightening. "You're not getting a reward." He tries to sound firm, but your pout and those eyes are convincing him. "Go to sleep, I mean it." His hand pushes you gently away from him, trying to create distance.
"You're gonna get us caught." You let yourself be pushed away, but it's a half-hearted resistance. Your body lingers in the air before you sink back, leaning against him again. "You're so mean we're supposed to be dating."
"We are dating," he scoffs, "but that doesn't mean we get to risk everything because you're feeling needy." You frown, "Can we atleast kiss..?" His gaze flicks toward the hallway where Hollis is sleeping then back down at you.
Your glossy lips, your expectant expression, amd the way your cropped top rides up just a little higher. "Seriously come on," he says it firmly, but his Adam's apple bobs.
"Just once? Please? I've been so good today." Roman sighs heavily, his resolve crumbling under your pleading eyes. He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You melt instantly, humming softly against his mouth as your hands slide up his warm chest. The kiss is slow and sweet, his lips surprisingly gentle despite his earlier grumbling.
His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. The kiss deepens just a fraction more than just a "just once" kiss. His lips part against yours, a soft exhale escaping him. You whimper softly into his mouth, fingers curling into his hair. Roman pulls you closer, one hand sliding down to grip your hip possessively, his thumb pressing into the exposed skin just above your tiny pink boyshorts.
You part your lips eagerly, inviting him in. His tongue slides against yours, exploring your mouth like he owns it. Which he does, you think dreamily. The kiss goes on, soft and deep, his hand still pressed against your bare hip while the other cradles your face. You grind slightly into his lap and he doesn't stop you.
Roman's thumb traces the band of your boyshorts, while the other hand slides from your cheek to rest on your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the angle. You sigh happily into his mouth, your fingers tangling deeper in his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. Your body curves perfectly against his, the kiss turning slower, wetter, and more heated.
Your thigh presses firmly between his legs, grinding down in a slow, sleepy rhythm. He breaks the kiss, breath hot against your mouth, "That was supposed to be one," he murmurs, but he's already pulling you back in. "Mhm," you respond vaguely, already lost in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. Your hands roam down from his hair to his neck, then his shoulders, feeling his under your fingertips.
Almost like a slap to the face the two of you are abruptly interrupted by the flick of the lights turning on and Hollis standing there. His face turning from a tired expression to a beyond shocked look on his face. Hollis's eyes slowly drift from your face to Roman's hand still resting on your waist then to the fact that you were sitting in his lap lips inches away from Roman’s.
Roman quickly lets go and you slide off his lap so quickly you nearly stumbled. Hollis stares blankly then lets out a dry, disbelieving laugh, "No fucking way." Roman is the first to speak up, "Hollis-"
"What the fuck am I looking at right now?"
Roman opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Hollis looks between the two of you again, almost hoping he'd somehow misunderstood.
"Tell me I'm seeing this wrong."
Roman doesnt answer he can't and that's all the confirmation Hollis needs. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me." He takes one slow step toward Roman, "I let you sleep on my fucking couch I literally invite you into my apartment and I walk out here to find you making out with my little sister?"
He pushes a hand into Roman's chest, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" You reach toward Hollis, "Hollis, it wasn't-" He holds up a hand without even looking at you, "Not. Right. Now." His eyes never leave Roman's, "I'm talking to him." Roman stays where he is, "I know..." Hollis scoffs, "Oh, you know? Then why the fuck did you do it?" Roman's eyes flicker toward you for only a second before returning to Hollis, "Because I care about her."
Roman says that very hesitantly almost as if it was killing to say that. Hollis laugha bitterly, "Don't. You don't get to stand there and tell me you care about her after I catch you on my couch with your hands all over my sister." Hollis's chest rises and falls with every angry breath, "So what every time I let you sleep over you've been fucking around with my sister?"
"...No."
"Oh, don't bullshit me."
"I'm not!"
"You expect me to believe this is the first time?" Hollis drags a hand over his face, "How long?"
Roman looks at the floor for a second before meeting his eyes again, "A few months."
"A few-" He couldn't believe what he was hearing, "A few months?! So I've been sitting here eating dinner with you two and you've both been playing me?" Roman shakes his head, "It wasn't like that."
"The hell it wasn't you've been lying to my face."
You look between the two of them, tears already streaming down your cheeks, "Hollis relax.." Hollis stares at you, "Relax tell me one good reason I should fucking relax!"
"Because..I love him and he loves me."
"I don't give a fuck!"
"Please..that's usually how dating works."
Hollis shushes you, "Just shut up..please."
Hollis shakes his head, "You know what...I can't even look at you right now." He points toward the front door, "Get out I mean it get the fuck out of my apartment." You immediately spoke up, "Hollis, please-"
"I said I'm not talking to you right now Y/n."
His eyes stay locked on Roman, "I trusted you...you're like a brother to me and this is what you do?"
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want your apology I want you out."
Roman looks at him for a long moment, "Alright."
He bends down and grabs his hoodie his keys then slips on his shoes. You take a shaky step toward him, "Roman..."
"Dont Y/n," he starts toward the door and just before he reaches it Hollis speaks up again, "And don't come back I don't want you anywhere near my sister. You got me?"
"Yeah..." He opens the door steps outside and the door shuts behind him with a quiet click. Hollis sits down on the couch his elbows resting on his knees.
"Did he pressure you?"
Your head snaps up, "What?"
"He didn't pressure you?"
"No!"
"He didn't...take advantage of you?"
Your eyebrows pinch together, "No!"
"Did he ask you to keep it a secret?"
You hesitate and Hollis notices, "So he did."
You shake your head quickly, "No not really."
"What does 'not really' mean?"
"It was kind of...both of us."
Hollis sighs, "Why?"
You answer with complete sincerity, "Because I knew you'd be mad and he knew you'd be mad. So we thought if we waited maybe you wouldn't be mad." Hollis looks away, "That's so stupid."
You nod, "I know..I came up with the plan."
He looks at you and says, "You know what hurts?" You sniffle, "What?"
"That you didn't think you could come to me. I'm your brother uou couldn't sit me down and tell me?" You start sniffing harder, "I was scared I didn't want you to hate him or foryou to hate me."
Hollis shakes his head, "I don't hate you I am pissed and I'm disappointed but I don't hate you."
You scoot closer and wrap your arms around him while crying. Hollis sighs lets you even though he's annoyed and upset. He wraps one arm around you anyway then, while you're hugging him, you quietly ask, "Do you think Roman got home okay?"
Hollis just slowly closes his eyes, "Can we just not fucking say the name Roman for the next 24 hours for the love of god." Hollis suddenly makes a face, "Eugh."
You look over, "What?" He stares at the coffee table, "I just...saw that." He slowly turns toward you, "You and him making out." He pinches the bridge of his nose, "I can't unsee it I'm gonna be eighty years old and I'm still gonna remember walking out here and seeing you and Roman" He shivers dramatically, "That's fucking disgusting." You frown, "But I think Roman's cute."
Hollis side eyes you, "What?" You shrug innocently, "I like looking at him he's really pretty." Hollis gags, "Oh my God stop. I don't need to hear about how attractive my best friend is!" You tilt your head, "I was just explaining."
Hollis buries his face in both hands, "I've heard enough. I don't wanna hear about his face I don't wanna hear about anything. As far as I'm concerned, that man is a featureless gray blob. I need you to stop thinking about him for, like, five minutes." You look down sheepishly, "Okay...cann I think about him after the five minutes?" Hollis just gives you a death stare.
Roman had been sitting on the edge of his bed for almost twenty minutes staring at his wall. The only thing that interrupts his endless thoughts is his phone.
taglist: @girl2wink (this would not have been completed w/o u, ilysm <2) @gabisohot @angelverse222 @osxprincesa @girl2bad @ibelieveinfairyz @m1ndless-thoughtsss @lonelycatontheblock @sippingonsin @2yung2diie @antihumanfooorm thank u all for being so interested in this fic, it means so so much to me <2
Hollis was proud of the progress he’d made with Roman. Really, he was. He thought it was over before it even began when the boy initially blocked him less than 2 months ago, and now they were facetiming and texting almost everyday without fail. But leave it to Hollis to want something more. It just felt like there was something missing. Besides the fact that Roman rarely acknowledged Hollis’ existence at school.
They hadn’t hung out once since they met. Not a single time. Hollis’ interactions with Roman were limited to brief eye contact in the hallway, the accidental brush of hands in class when passing something over, and their midnight phone calls. Was it wrong for him to just want to see Roman away from everyone else, outside of a screen? Did that make him desperate?
He rolls the idea around in his head for a few days, trying to decide the best way to approach this. There was no doubt in his mind Roman would question him. Maybe he wouldn’t full-on reject the idea, but he’d definitely have stipulations. Every opportunity he had to ask the boy, he talked himself out of it and put it off for another day. ‘Tomorrow,’ he’d tell himself. Tomorrow became two more days, then four, then an entire week.
Hollis contemplated going to the group chat with it, but Nate and Ryan weren’t even fully sure why he still messed with Roman. Ryan especially wasn’t too happy with the idea of Hollis chasing after someone who couldn’t give him the time of day unless it was convenient. He had to deal with this himself.
It all just came out one night. He had been running different scenarios through his head the entire day, and when the phone lit up with Roman’s name, it was as if the words couldn’t hold themselves back anymore.
“What’s wrong?” Roman asks abruptly. They’d been on the phone for less than 5 minutes, and Hollis was already acting off. There was a slight look of concern on Roman’s face that the phone caught, propped up by a pillow as Roman lay adjacent to it.
“Nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing. You look like you’re thinking about something.” Roman sits up, bringing the phone with him.
Hollis exhales, deciding there was no way around this anymore. Roman would press him about it until he got annoyed and eventually hung up, and Hollis wasn’t in the mood to beg. Hopefully Roman’s reaction wasn’t too harsh.
“I know we don't… like hang out at school or anything, and that’s fine, I guess. But does that mean all hang outs are off limits?” Hollis swallows his anxiety, praying Roman can’t hear it in his voice.
“Are you asking me out right now?” Roman’s face twisted with an emotion Hollis couldn’t quite read, but he hoped it wasn’t disgust.
“It doesn’t have to be a date, Roman. I just want to see you. We only talk on the phone. Think of it as just a casual hang out between two friends.” Hollis feels his desperation building and he mentally curses himself for it. This hold Roman had on him was an addiction and a curse all in one, something he’d never fully wrap his head around.
“So you’re not asking me out?”
“Roman, please.” So much for not begging.
“What do you even wanna do?” Roman’s eyebrows furrow, caving ever so slightly. Progress.
After running over a few different ideas he had, they finally settled on something. They’d go see a movie, some new action film that Hollis had already forgotten the name of, and get something to eat. Roman was hesitant on the second part of the plan, insisting it sounded too much like a date, but eventually caved.
“I’m only free on Saturday, though. Family shit.” Roman yawned as the clock hit 1 a.m.
“Okay. Saturday then. Don’t stand me up.” Hollis teased, watching Roman scrunch up his face again.
“Shut up. Goodnight, Holli.”
Hollis felt his heart flutter once again at the nickname, as if most of his friends didn’t call him the exact same one. It sounded different coming from Roman’s lips. Softer. Intimate.
“Night, Ro.”
𓂃⋆.˚
Saturday rolls around slower than Hollis wants it to, but it rolls around nonetheless. He sits on the floor an hour before he’s meant to be at the theater, deciding on what shirt to wear. This shit was ridiculous.
“You’re gonna be in the dark for most of the date, Holls.” Chessa’s voice emitted from his phone. He’d called her as she was the only friend of his who wasn’t wary of Roman at the moment.
“Not a date.” Hollis mumbled, tossing yet another shirt back into the drawer.
“Yeah, okay, whatever. Date, hangout, whatever the fuck. It doesn’t matter what you wear, he’s not going to be looking at your clothes.”
“I guess.” Hollis decides on a black tank, pulling on a hoodie over it.
“Perfect. You look fine. Now hurry up before you’re late. I don’t need him bitching in my messages.”
Hollis laughs at this, easing up a bit. He had enough to be nervous about today, and his outfit should be the least of his problems.
(He still ends up changing jeans once more before heading out.)
The theater’s lobby is mostly empty except for a mother and her child as well as a group of teenage girls who, thankfully, do not go to Hollis’ school. He scans the area for anyone else and meets eyes with none other than Roman. There’s a softness to his appearance, a slight glow if you will. Maybe that was just Hollis’ lovesick brain. But he could tell he brushed out his hair, leaving it fluffier. Hollis loved the usual curls Roman sported, but this was cute, too.
“Finally you show up.” Roman sets his phone down as Hollis approaches him. “And you said I’d stand you up.”
Hollis feels his face heat up as Roman nudges him, an inch of space between the two. This was more than the accidental brush of hands in the classroom as they passed papers.
“I was like two minutes late, please.” Hollis rolls his eyes, nudging Roman back.
The brunet simply pulls Hollis by his sleeve over to the register, looking at the signs above their heads to see what snacks were offered. Hollis fidgeted with his jeans until he located his wallet, pulling out his card.
“What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.” Hollis leans closer to Roman’s ear to ask.
Roman shakes his head, reaching into his own wallet and handing the cashier $30.
“We can just share popcorn.”
“I was gonna pay for it.” Hollis all but pouts, eyebrows furrowing.
“Aw, you gotta be quicker than that, Holli.” Roman turns to thank the cashier as she hands him fresh popcorn and two cups. Hollis gets a red slushie while Roman gets blue with a little bit of Coca-Cola at the bottom.
They find their seats at the back of the showing room, which is relatively empty. The nearest person is 3 rows up, giving them enough space to talk without being shushed. Hollis’ slushie is almost gone from nervous chugging, while Roman has only taken maybe two sips.
The movie is interesting to say the least. It’s a bunch of bad sound effects and overdone stunts, but it’s entertaining. Hollis’ favorite part was not the actual movie itself but the laughter its stupidity brought out of Roman. His laugh was even more intoxicating in person than it was on the phone, and Hollis felt as if he’d do anything to hear it again.
Since the popcorn bucket rested in Roman’s lap, Hollis finds himself having to reach over the boy frequently. Their fingers touch on multiple occasions, and it flusters Hollis to the point of apology. Roman is as nonchalant as he usually is, but Hollis notices the slightest smile every time their fingertips brush. He wonders if the sensation gives him butterflies, too, or if it’s all intentional and he’s teasing him. After it happens a fifth time, Hollis decides he’s done with the popcorn.
The movie ends after what feels like forever, and Hollis can’t hold back his own laughter as the credits roll. Roman looks at him like he’s crazy but eventually laughs, too, an amused giggle hidden behind his hand. A quiet yet mutual agreement between the two: that movie sucked.
They exit the theater and Hollis squints as the lighting changes, shielding his eyes with his hand as they walk back to his car. Roman doesn’t seem to be bothered at all, not by the burning hot Sun or the warmed metal of the seatbelt’s buckle. He’s been relatively calm this entire hangout, and it’s refreshing. Hollis doesn’t feel like he’s walking on eggshells, trying not to piss him off and get the silent treatment or some other cruel punishment.
“Can we go eat now? I’m starving.” Roman groans, resting his head against the dashboard. Hollis laughs and shifts the car into drive, reaching to turn on the radio.
“I can’t see how. You fucking devoured that popcorn.”
Roman lightly shoves his arm, nostrils flaring. “No, I fucking didn’t, shut up.”
Hollis barks out a laugh and turns up the radio, watching Roman’s scowl turn into a smile from the corner of his eye.
They pull into the drive-thru of a McDonald’s that’s been there since long before Hollis was born, probably, if its condition was anything to go by. The food was mediocre, but it was cheap and Hollis couldn’t be bothered to drive 30 minutes out to a nice diner or something. Roman would probably appreciate a less public spot anyways.
Besides, sitting in the car, blasting music, and stealing fries from Roman was probably more fun. He cackles as Roman swats his hands away, yelling at him to eat his own food.
“Wait, okay, you’ve never heard of Al Green?” Hollis leans back against the driver’s seat, a fry hanging out of his mouth.
Roman scrunched up his nose at the behavior, looking down at his burger. “I’ve heard of him, I think, I’ve just never listened to him.” He shrugs, taking a sip from Hollis’ drink.
“That’s mine.” His face heats up once again, waiting for Roman’s expression to shift to embarrassment or realization. It never does.
“I know. I wanted Coke.”
“Oh. Okay, um… What about Justice? Have you listened to them?”
“Dude, who are these people?” Roman snorted, shaking his head.
“It’s good music! Here.” He grabs his phone, opening Spotify and pulling up Love and Happiness by Al Green. He grabs his tangled earbuds from his pocket and plugs them into his phone, offering Roman one. The brunet looks at him suspiciously, to which Hollis just sighs and places it in his ear for him.
“Trust me.” He presses play, placing the other earbud in his own ear. The opening chords begin to play, and while Roman’s face doesn’t change much, Hollis notices his hand ever so softly tapping his leg to the rhythm.
“You like it.” Hollis beams, nudging Roman. He rolls his eyes, jerking his shoulder away from him. Even so, he makes no attempt to pause the song or take out the earbud. Hollis’ heart jumped at the idea of sharing something with Roman and him actually enjoying it. A sense of pride, maybe. Or perhaps just pure, unbridled joy.
𓂃⋆.˚
Hollis contemplates ending the day here, not wanting to step out of bounds by inviting Roman to his house. But, surprisingly, Roman beats him to it, telling him he didn’t wanna go home just yet, that it was still early.
So they ended up back in Hollis’ room, his Mom out and his brother at a friend’s house. Roman peered around the new space like a caged animal newly relocated, curious and a bit intrigued. He kept his hands for the most part, until he saw Hollis’ computer open on the bed to yet another one of his unfinished projects.
“I didn’t know you made music.” He sits on his bed, looking to Hollis as if to ask if he could hear.
“I told you I did.” Hollis sits next to Roman, scrolling to a project he was a bit more proud of.
“Yea, but I thought you meant like… as something to pass the time or some shit. Not seriously.” He turns and blinks at him with an expression Hollis, once again, couldn’t quite read.
“You wanna hear?” Hollis chuckles.
Roman nods. So for the next 30 minutes or so, Hollis shows Roman a few different songs, many of which he’s uploaded. Hollis was not shy about his music, he knew that much. He wanted it to reach millions one day, and he knew the only way for that to happen was to put it out there. But having this boy he felt so strongly about willingly listening to his music and seeming to enjoy it? That was an entirely different feeling, one he was sure he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not like this.
Roman kept glancing at him between songs, like he was analyzing the person who made the very music he was listening to. The looks ranged from a few seconds to full moments, especially lingering on his face. Hollis did his best to pretend he didn’t notice, but he could feel this growing tension between them, the feeling of being watched and admired.
“Hollis…” Roman finally spoke, voice slightly raspy after prolonged silence.
“Yea?” Hollis clears his own throat, taking the risk and turning to him. His pupils are definitely larger than he remembers, and there’s a flush to his face that doesn’t match the cool temperature of the room.
Before Hollis can even process these two factors, Roman’s mouth is on his. It knocks the breath out of him, he’ll admit, but he quickly falls into it, breathing through his nose. Roman tastes like the slushie he drank at the theater and probably ketchup but Hollis couldn’t give less of a fuck. He was kissing Roman. Roman was kissing him.
His heart felt like it might beat out of his chest, the strong burst of adrenaline dizzying. Hollis grabs any part of Roman that he can reach, scared the moment would end as quickly as it began. His right hand trailed up his back, fingers burying in Roman’s hair. His fingers caught onto a single plait, hidden by the rest of the boy’s (rather soft) hair. He feels around some more and registers another braid, just a few inches away from the first. Hollis pulls away from the kiss and laughs, staring into the eyes of a kiss-drunken Roman.
“What’s funny?” He furrowed his eyebrows, already leaning in for more.
“Nothing, nothing…” Hollis pecks his lips, trying to initiate another kiss.
“Something’s funny.” Roman pulls back, a slight pout on his lips. Hollis wants to kiss it off. If only he’d let him.
“It’s nothing, Ro. Just the braids, I didn’t notice them before. They’re cute.” Hollis finally reconnects their lips. Roman makes no attempt to protest or press more, melting into the kiss.
They make out for what feels like hours, and might as well be. Roman ends up straddling Hollis’ waist at some point, the latter’s large hands sliding up his shirt. Roman shivers a bit as his cold fingers grip at his waist, but soon they warm with the effort of his body heat.
He climbs off of him and flops down beside the blond to catch his breath as the Sun begins to set. They stare at the ceiling in silence for a few minutes before Hollis hesitantly reaches out his hand for Roman to grab. The boy stares at it for a few seconds, and Hollis closes his eyes to try and lessen the embarrassment he’s feeling until he feels warm fingers intertwining with his own. His eyes open, head turning to face Roman, who looks back at him.
He looks so soft in this moment, like an angel fallen right into Hollis’ bed. He wishes he could stay here like this forever, with Roman looking at him in a way he never has before. But his mother would be home soon, and Angus would probably bring over a friend or two to play video games, and the moment would be awkward and ruined. He pushed those thoughts out of his head, trying to live in the now, in the present, enjoy Roman’s warmth while he still had it.
He watches the slow rise and fall of his chest, imagining his ear pressed against it, listening to the quiet thumping of his heart. Had it slowed now that they’d stopped kissing? Or was physical contact simply enough to raise his heart rate? Because it was definitely enough for Hollis.
He feels his eyelids growing heavier, exhaling as he closes his eyes for just a second. He quickly opens them again, as if to make sure Roman had not suddenly disappeared. He hadn’t. He stares back at Hollis, blinking every so often. It doesn’t creep him out or unsettle him. Instead, it comforts him, to know Roman’s attention was solely on him.
He closes his eyes again and does not remember anything after that.
When he opens them again after what must’ve been a few hours, Roman is gone. He hears his mother on the phone in the kitchen, and Angus yelling at his game, but no Roman. He groans and reaches for his phone, pressing the side button just once. 10:15 p.m. Hollis feels a deep ache in his chest, a mixture of disappointment and longing. He pulls up Roman’s contact a few seconds later.
Hollis worried about Roman. Did something happen when he went home? Had he gotten in trouble for being out so late? Had he heard his mom or brother coming in and got scared? So many different thoughts at once, endless scenarios and possibilities. Hollis scanned through each one in his head until he grew tired and fell asleep again, phone resting face down on his chest.
𓂃⋆.˚
Contrary to what he told him the previous day, Roman did not text or call him at all on Sunday. Not in the morning, not in the afternoon, not in the evening to explain his absence. Midnight rolled around and there was no facetime call. He checked his phone every time it pinged but found only app notifications or texts from the group chat. Where was Roman?
He waited up until almost 2 am, hoping and praying Roman would just send a text or try to dial his phone. Nothing. Hollis had to be up for school in a few hours, so he sighed and set his phone on the dresser, rolling over. He stared at the spot Roman lay less than two days ago, now cold and empty the way he left it. Hollis fell asleep imagining he was there again, holding onto his hand the way he did that night.
Hollis’ concern turned into irritation and frustration when he saw Roman in the halls that Monday morning, talking to Chessa and a few of his other friends. He looked perfectly fine, not dejected or out of it. He laughs at a joke a girl Hollis remembers to be named Hailee makes. Nate settles beside Hollis near the lockers, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Roman. He stares so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he burned a hole through him.
When Roman finally feels eyes on him, he follows them and is soon staring back at Hollis. There is no nod or smile this time. His eyes do not light up ever so slightly the way Hollis began to notice they did recently. He stares at him for a few seconds before he looks away, back to Hailee, Chessa, and the others.
All that progress on Saturday, what was it for? The jokes, sharing food, Roman being the first person outside of Hollis’ friend group to hear his music? The kiss? They made out for almost a fucking hour in Hollis’ room, in Hollis’ bed, when no one else was home and now Roman was scowling at him?
Hollis tried not to let it affect him. He didn’t want to overthink this or believe that Roman would pull something like this after everything they did together just two days ago. Because that would then lead him to finally see him how Nate and Ryan did. And Hollis didn’t want to see him that way. He liked Roman. Really liked him.
So he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and carried on with the school day, hoping Nate or Ryan had something entertaining to distract him.
But the final straw would come no more than a few hours later, when he texted Roman once he made it home. It made his heart drop to his stomach, and he could feel the rose-colored lenses start to fall. Hollis felt stupid. Helplessly and utterly stupid.
taglist: @girl2wink (this would not have been completed w/o u, ilysm <2) @gabisohot @angelverse222 @osxprincesa @girl2bad @ibelieveinfairyz @m1ndless-thoughtsss @lonelycatontheblock @sippingonsin @2yung2diie @antihumanfooorm thank u all for being so interested in this fic, it means so so much to me <2
Hollis was proud of the progress he’d made with Roman. Really, he was. He thought it was over before it even began when the boy initially blocked him less than 2 months ago, and now they were facetiming and texting almost everyday without fail. But leave it to Hollis to want something more. It just felt like there was something missing. Besides the fact that Roman rarely acknowledged Hollis’ existence at school.
They hadn’t hung out once since they met. Not a single time. Hollis’ interactions with Roman were limited to brief eye contact in the hallway, the accidental brush of hands in class when passing something over, and their midnight phone calls. Was it wrong for him to just want to see Roman away from everyone else, outside of a screen? Did that make him desperate?
He rolls the idea around in his head for a few days, trying to decide the best way to approach this. There was no doubt in his mind Roman would question him. Maybe he wouldn’t full-on reject the idea, but he’d definitely have stipulations. Every opportunity he had to ask the boy, he talked himself out of it and put it off for another day. ‘Tomorrow,’ he’d tell himself. Tomorrow became two more days, then four, then an entire week.
Hollis contemplated going to the group chat with it, but Nate and Ryan weren’t even fully sure why he still messed with Roman. Ryan especially wasn’t too happy with the idea of Hollis chasing after someone who couldn’t give him the time of day unless it was convenient. He had to deal with this himself.
It all just came out one night. He had been running different scenarios through his head the entire day, and when the phone lit up with Roman’s name, it was as if the words couldn’t hold themselves back anymore.
“What’s wrong?” Roman asks abruptly. They’d been on the phone for less than 5 minutes, and Hollis was already acting off. There was a slight look of concern on Roman’s face that the phone caught, propped up by a pillow as Roman lay adjacent to it.
“Nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing. You look like you’re thinking about something.” Roman sits up, bringing the phone with him.
Hollis exhales, deciding there was no way around this anymore. Roman would press him about it until he got annoyed and eventually hung up, and Hollis wasn’t in the mood to beg. Hopefully Roman’s reaction wasn’t too harsh.
“I know we don't… like hang out at school or anything, and that’s fine, I guess. But does that mean all hang outs are off limits?” Hollis swallows his anxiety, praying Roman can’t hear it in his voice.
“Are you asking me out right now?” Roman’s face twisted with an emotion Hollis couldn’t quite read, but he hoped it wasn’t disgust.
“It doesn’t have to be a date, Roman. I just want to see you. We only talk on the phone. Think of it as just a casual hang out between two friends.” Hollis feels his desperation building and he mentally curses himself for it. This hold Roman had on him was an addiction and a curse all in one, something he’d never fully wrap his head around.
“So you’re not asking me out?”
“Roman, please.” So much for not begging.
“What do you even wanna do?” Roman’s eyebrows furrow, caving ever so slightly. Progress.
After running over a few different ideas he had, they finally settled on something. They’d go see a movie, some new action film that Hollis had already forgotten the name of, and get something to eat. Roman was hesitant on the second part of the plan, insisting it sounded too much like a date, but eventually caved.
“I’m only free on Saturday, though. Family shit.” Roman yawned as the clock hit 1 a.m.
“Okay. Saturday then. Don’t stand me up.” Hollis teased, watching Roman scrunch up his face again.
“Shut up. Goodnight, Holli.”
Hollis felt his heart flutter once again at the nickname, as if most of his friends didn’t call him the exact same one. It sounded different coming from Roman’s lips. Softer. Intimate.
“Night, Ro.”
𓂃⋆.˚
Saturday rolls around slower than Hollis wants it to, but it rolls around nonetheless. He sits on the floor an hour before he’s meant to be at the theater, deciding on what shirt to wear. This shit was ridiculous.
“You’re gonna be in the dark for most of the date, Holls.” Chessa’s voice emitted from his phone. He’d called her as she was the only friend of his who wasn’t wary of Roman at the moment.
“Not a date.” Hollis mumbled, tossing yet another shirt back into the drawer.
“Yeah, okay, whatever. Date, hangout, whatever the fuck. It doesn’t matter what you wear, he’s not going to be looking at your clothes.”
“I guess.” Hollis decides on a black tank, pulling on a hoodie over it.
“Perfect. You look fine. Now hurry up before you’re late. I don’t need him bitching in my messages.”
Hollis laughs at this, easing up a bit. He had enough to be nervous about today, and his outfit should be the least of his problems.
(He still ends up changing jeans once more before heading out.)
The theater’s lobby is mostly empty except for a mother and her child as well as a group of teenage girls who, thankfully, do not go to Hollis’ school. He scans the area for anyone else and meets eyes with none other than Roman. There’s a softness to his appearance, a slight glow if you will. Maybe that was just Hollis’ lovesick brain. But he could tell he brushed out his hair, leaving it fluffier. Hollis loved the usual curls Roman sported, but this was cute, too.
“Finally you show up.” Roman sets his phone down as Hollis approaches him. “And you said I’d stand you up.”
Hollis feels his face heat up as Roman nudges him, an inch of space between the two. This was more than the accidental brush of hands in the classroom as they passed papers.
“I was like two minutes late, please.” Hollis rolls his eyes, nudging Roman back.
The brunet simply pulls Hollis by his sleeve over to the register, looking at the signs above their heads to see what snacks were offered. Hollis fidgeted with his jeans until he located his wallet, pulling out his card.
“What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.” Hollis leans closer to Roman’s ear to ask.
Roman shakes his head, reaching into his own wallet and handing the cashier $30.
“We can just share popcorn.”
“I was gonna pay for it.” Hollis all but pouts, eyebrows furrowing.
“Aw, you gotta be quicker than that, Holli.” Roman turns to thank the cashier as she hands him fresh popcorn and two cups. Hollis gets a red slushie while Roman gets blue with a little bit of Coca-Cola at the bottom.
They find their seats at the back of the showing room, which is relatively empty. The nearest person is 3 rows up, giving them enough space to talk without being shushed. Hollis’ slushie is almost gone from nervous chugging, while Roman has only taken maybe two sips.
The movie is interesting to say the least. It’s a bunch of bad sound effects and overdone stunts, but it’s entertaining. Hollis’ favorite part was not the actual movie itself but the laughter its stupidity brought out of Roman. His laugh was even more intoxicating in person than it was on the phone, and Hollis felt as if he’d do anything to hear it again.
Since the popcorn bucket rested in Roman’s lap, Hollis finds himself having to reach over the boy frequently. Their fingers touch on multiple occasions, and it flusters Hollis to the point of apology. Roman is as nonchalant as he usually is, but Hollis notices the slightest smile every time their fingertips brush. He wonders if the sensation gives him butterflies, too, or if it’s all intentional and he’s teasing him. After it happens a fifth time, Hollis decides he’s done with the popcorn.
The movie ends after what feels like forever, and Hollis can’t hold back his own laughter as the credits roll. Roman looks at him like he’s crazy but eventually laughs, too, an amused giggle hidden behind his hand. A quiet yet mutual agreement between the two: that movie sucked.
They exit the theater and Hollis squints as the lighting changes, shielding his eyes with his hand as they walk back to his car. Roman doesn’t seem to be bothered at all, not by the burning hot Sun or the warmed metal of the seatbelt’s buckle. He’s been relatively calm this entire hangout, and it’s refreshing. Hollis doesn’t feel like he’s walking on eggshells, trying not to piss him off and get the silent treatment or some other cruel punishment.
“Can we go eat now? I’m starving.” Roman groans, resting his head against the dashboard. Hollis laughs and shifts the car into drive, reaching to turn on the radio.
“I can’t see how. You fucking devoured that popcorn.”
Roman lightly shoves his arm, nostrils flaring. “No, I fucking didn’t, shut up.”
Hollis barks out a laugh and turns up the radio, watching Roman’s scowl turn into a smile from the corner of his eye.
They pull into the drive-thru of a McDonald’s that’s been there since long before Hollis was born, probably, if its condition was anything to go by. The food was mediocre, but it was cheap and Hollis couldn’t be bothered to drive 30 minutes out to a nice diner or something. Roman would probably appreciate a less public spot anyways.
Besides, sitting in the car, blasting music, and stealing fries from Roman was probably more fun. He cackles as Roman swats his hands away, yelling at him to eat his own food.
“Wait, okay, you’ve never heard of Al Green?” Hollis leans back against the driver’s seat, a fry hanging out of his mouth.
Roman scrunched up his nose at the behavior, looking down at his burger. “I’ve heard of him, I think, I’ve just never listened to him.” He shrugs, taking a sip from Hollis’ drink.
“That’s mine.” His face heats up once again, waiting for Roman’s expression to shift to embarrassment or realization. It never does.
“I know. I wanted Coke.”
“Oh. Okay, um… What about Justice? Have you listened to them?”
“Dude, who are these people?” Roman snorted, shaking his head.
“It’s good music! Here.” He grabs his phone, opening Spotify and pulling up Love and Happiness by Al Green. He grabs his tangled earbuds from his pocket and plugs them into his phone, offering Roman one. The brunet looks at him suspiciously, to which Hollis just sighs and places it in his ear for him.
“Trust me.” He presses play, placing the other earbud in his own ear. The opening chords begin to play, and while Roman’s face doesn’t change much, Hollis notices his hand ever so softly tapping his leg to the rhythm.
“You like it.” Hollis beams, nudging Roman. He rolls his eyes, jerking his shoulder away from him. Even so, he makes no attempt to pause the song or take out the earbud. Hollis’ heart jumped at the idea of sharing something with Roman and him actually enjoying it. A sense of pride, maybe. Or perhaps just pure, unbridled joy.
𓂃⋆.˚
Hollis contemplates ending the day here, not wanting to step out of bounds by inviting Roman to his house. But, surprisingly, Roman beats him to it, telling him he didn’t wanna go home just yet, that it was still early.
So they ended up back in Hollis’ room, his Mom out and his brother at a friend’s house. Roman peered around the new space like a caged animal newly relocated, curious and a bit intrigued. He kept his hands for the most part, until he saw Hollis’ computer open on the bed to yet another one of his unfinished projects.
“I didn’t know you made music.” He sits on his bed, looking to Hollis as if to ask if he could hear.
“I told you I did.” Hollis sits next to Roman, scrolling to a project he was a bit more proud of.
“Yea, but I thought you meant like… as something to pass the time or some shit. Not seriously.” He turns and blinks at him with an expression Hollis, once again, couldn’t quite read.
“You wanna hear?” Hollis chuckles.
Roman nods. So for the next 30 minutes or so, Hollis shows Roman a few different songs, many of which he’s uploaded. Hollis was not shy about his music, he knew that much. He wanted it to reach millions one day, and he knew the only way for that to happen was to put it out there. But having this boy he felt so strongly about willingly listening to his music and seeming to enjoy it? That was an entirely different feeling, one he was sure he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not like this.
Roman kept glancing at him between songs, like he was analyzing the person who made the very music he was listening to. The looks ranged from a few seconds to full moments, especially lingering on his face. Hollis did his best to pretend he didn’t notice, but he could feel this growing tension between them, the feeling of being watched and admired.
“Hollis…” Roman finally spoke, voice slightly raspy after prolonged silence.
“Yea?” Hollis clears his own throat, taking the risk and turning to him. His pupils are definitely larger than he remembers, and there’s a flush to his face that doesn’t match the cool temperature of the room.
Before Hollis can even process these two factors, Roman’s mouth is on his. It knocks the breath out of him, he’ll admit, but he quickly falls into it, breathing through his nose. Roman tastes like the slushie he drank at the theater and probably ketchup but Hollis couldn’t give less of a fuck. He was kissing Roman. Roman was kissing him.
His heart felt like it might beat out of his chest, the strong burst of adrenaline dizzying. Hollis grabs any part of Roman that he can reach, scared the moment would end as quickly as it began. His right hand trailed up his back, fingers burying in Roman’s hair. His fingers caught onto a single plait, hidden by the rest of the boy’s (rather soft) hair. He feels around some more and registers another braid, just a few inches away from the first. Hollis pulls away from the kiss and laughs, staring into the eyes of a kiss-drunken Roman.
“What’s funny?” He furrowed his eyebrows, already leaning in for more.
“Nothing, nothing…” Hollis pecks his lips, trying to initiate another kiss.
“Something’s funny.” Roman pulls back, a slight pout on his lips. Hollis wants to kiss it off. If only he’d let him.
“It’s nothing, Ro. Just the braids, I didn’t notice them before. They’re cute.” Hollis finally reconnects their lips. Roman makes no attempt to protest or press more, melting into the kiss.
They make out for what feels like hours, and might as well be. Roman ends up straddling Hollis’ waist at some point, the latter’s large hands sliding up his shirt. Roman shivers a bit as his cold fingers grip at his waist, but soon they warm with the effort of his body heat.
He climbs off of him and flops down beside the blond to catch his breath as the Sun begins to set. They stare at the ceiling in silence for a few minutes before Hollis hesitantly reaches out his hand for Roman to grab. The boy stares at it for a few seconds, and Hollis closes his eyes to try and lessen the embarrassment he’s feeling until he feels warm fingers intertwining with his own. His eyes open, head turning to face Roman, who looks back at him.
He looks so soft in this moment, like an angel fallen right into Hollis’ bed. He wishes he could stay here like this forever, with Roman looking at him in a way he never has before. But his mother would be home soon, and Angus would probably bring over a friend or two to play video games, and the moment would be awkward and ruined. He pushed those thoughts out of his head, trying to live in the now, in the present, enjoy Roman’s warmth while he still had it.
He watches the slow rise and fall of his chest, imagining his ear pressed against it, listening to the quiet thumping of his heart. Had it slowed now that they’d stopped kissing? Or was physical contact simply enough to raise his heart rate? Because it was definitely enough for Hollis.
He feels his eyelids growing heavier, exhaling as he closes his eyes for just a second. He quickly opens them again, as if to make sure Roman had not suddenly disappeared. He hadn’t. He stares back at Hollis, blinking every so often. It doesn’t creep him out or unsettle him. Instead, it comforts him, to know Roman’s attention was solely on him.
He closes his eyes again and does not remember anything after that.
When he opens them again after what must’ve been a few hours, Roman is gone. He hears his mother on the phone in the kitchen, and Angus yelling at his game, but no Roman. He groans and reaches for his phone, pressing the side button just once. 10:15 p.m. Hollis feels a deep ache in his chest, a mixture of disappointment and longing. He pulls up Roman’s contact a few seconds later.
Hollis worried about Roman. Did something happen when he went home? Had he gotten in trouble for being out so late? Had he heard his mom or brother coming in and got scared? So many different thoughts at once, endless scenarios and possibilities. Hollis scanned through each one in his head until he grew tired and fell asleep again, phone resting face down on his chest.
𓂃⋆.˚
Contrary to what he told him the previous day, Roman did not text or call him at all on Sunday. Not in the morning, not in the afternoon, not in the evening to explain his absence. Midnight rolled around and there was no facetime call. He checked his phone every time it pinged but found only app notifications or texts from the group chat. Where was Roman?
He waited up until almost 2 am, hoping and praying Roman would just send a text or try to dial his phone. Nothing. Hollis had to be up for school in a few hours, so he sighed and set his phone on the dresser, rolling over. He stared at the spot Roman lay less than two days ago, now cold and empty the way he left it. Hollis fell asleep imagining he was there again, holding onto his hand the way he did that night.
Hollis’ concern turned into irritation and frustration when he saw Roman in the halls that Monday morning, talking to Chessa and a few of his other friends. He looked perfectly fine, not dejected or out of it. He laughs at a joke a girl Hollis remembers to be named Hailee makes. Nate settles beside Hollis near the lockers, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Roman. He stares so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he burned a hole through him.
When Roman finally feels eyes on him, he follows them and is soon staring back at Hollis. There is no nod or smile this time. His eyes do not light up ever so slightly the way Hollis began to notice they did recently. He stares at him for a few seconds before he looks away, back to Hailee, Chessa, and the others.
All that progress on Saturday, what was it for? The jokes, sharing food, Roman being the first person outside of Hollis’ friend group to hear his music? The kiss? They made out for almost a fucking hour in Hollis’ room, in Hollis’ bed, when no one else was home and now Roman was scowling at him?
Hollis tried not to let it affect him. He didn’t want to overthink this or believe that Roman would pull something like this after everything they did together just two days ago. Because that would then lead him to finally see him how Nate and Ryan did. And Hollis didn’t want to see him that way. He liked Roman. Really liked him.
So he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and carried on with the school day, hoping Nate or Ryan had something entertaining to distract him.
But the final straw would come no more than a few hours later, when he texted Roman once he made it home. It made his heart drop to his stomach, and he could feel the rose-colored lenses start to fall. Hollis felt stupid. Helplessly and utterly stupid.
taglist: @girl2wink (this would not have been completed w/o u, ilysm <2) @gabisohot @angelverse222 @osxprincesa @girl2bad @ibelieveinfairyz @m1ndless-thoughtsss @lonelycatontheblock @sippingonsin @2yung2diie @antihumanfooorm thank u all for being so interested in this fic, it means so so much to me <2
Hollis was proud of the progress he’d made with Roman. Really, he was. He thought it was over before it even began when the boy initially blocked him less than 2 months ago, and now they were facetiming and texting almost everyday without fail. But leave it to Hollis to want something more. It just felt like there was something missing. Besides the fact that Roman rarely acknowledged Hollis’ existence at school.
They hadn’t hung out once since they met. Not a single time. Hollis’ interactions with Roman were limited to brief eye contact in the hallway, the accidental brush of hands in class when passing something over, and their midnight phone calls. Was it wrong for him to just want to see Roman away from everyone else, outside of a screen? Did that make him desperate?
He rolls the idea around in his head for a few days, trying to decide the best way to approach this. There was no doubt in his mind Roman would question him. Maybe he wouldn’t full-on reject the idea, but he’d definitely have stipulations. Every opportunity he had to ask the boy, he talked himself out of it and put it off for another day. ‘Tomorrow,’ he’d tell himself. Tomorrow became two more days, then four, then an entire week.
Hollis contemplated going to the group chat with it, but Nate and Ryan weren’t even fully sure why he still messed with Roman. Ryan especially wasn’t too happy with the idea of Hollis chasing after someone who couldn’t give him the time of day unless it was convenient. He had to deal with this himself.
It all just came out one night. He had been running different scenarios through his head the entire day, and when the phone lit up with Roman’s name, it was as if the words couldn’t hold themselves back anymore.
“What’s wrong?” Roman asks abruptly. They’d been on the phone for less than 5 minutes, and Hollis was already acting off. There was a slight look of concern on Roman’s face that the phone caught, propped up by a pillow as Roman lay adjacent to it.
“Nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing. You look like you’re thinking about something.” Roman sits up, bringing the phone with him.
Hollis exhales, deciding there was no way around this anymore. Roman would press him about it until he got annoyed and eventually hung up, and Hollis wasn’t in the mood to beg. Hopefully Roman’s reaction wasn’t too harsh.
“I know we don't… like hang out at school or anything, and that’s fine, I guess. But does that mean all hang outs are off limits?” Hollis swallows his anxiety, praying Roman can’t hear it in his voice.
“Are you asking me out right now?” Roman’s face twisted with an emotion Hollis couldn’t quite read, but he hoped it wasn’t disgust.
“It doesn’t have to be a date, Roman. I just want to see you. We only talk on the phone. Think of it as just a casual hang out between two friends.” Hollis feels his desperation building and he mentally curses himself for it. This hold Roman had on him was an addiction and a curse all in one, something he’d never fully wrap his head around.
“So you’re not asking me out?”
“Roman, please.” So much for not begging.
“What do you even wanna do?” Roman’s eyebrows furrow, caving ever so slightly. Progress.
After running over a few different ideas he had, they finally settled on something. They’d go see a movie, some new action film that Hollis had already forgotten the name of, and get something to eat. Roman was hesitant on the second part of the plan, insisting it sounded too much like a date, but eventually caved.
“I’m only free on Saturday, though. Family shit.” Roman yawned as the clock hit 1 a.m.
“Okay. Saturday then. Don’t stand me up.” Hollis teased, watching Roman scrunch up his face again.
“Shut up. Goodnight, Holli.”
Hollis felt his heart flutter once again at the nickname, as if most of his friends didn’t call him the exact same one. It sounded different coming from Roman’s lips. Softer. Intimate.
“Night, Ro.”
𓂃⋆.˚
Saturday rolls around slower than Hollis wants it to, but it rolls around nonetheless. He sits on the floor an hour before he’s meant to be at the theater, deciding on what shirt to wear. This shit was ridiculous.
“You’re gonna be in the dark for most of the date, Holls.” Chessa’s voice emitted from his phone. He’d called her as she was the only friend of his who wasn’t wary of Roman at the moment.
“Not a date.” Hollis mumbled, tossing yet another shirt back into the drawer.
“Yeah, okay, whatever. Date, hangout, whatever the fuck. It doesn’t matter what you wear, he’s not going to be looking at your clothes.”
“I guess.” Hollis decides on a black tank, pulling on a hoodie over it.
“Perfect. You look fine. Now hurry up before you’re late. I don’t need him bitching in my messages.”
Hollis laughs at this, easing up a bit. He had enough to be nervous about today, and his outfit should be the least of his problems.
(He still ends up changing jeans once more before heading out.)
The theater’s lobby is mostly empty except for a mother and her child as well as a group of teenage girls who, thankfully, do not go to Hollis’ school. He scans the area for anyone else and meets eyes with none other than Roman. There’s a softness to his appearance, a slight glow if you will. Maybe that was just Hollis’ lovesick brain. But he could tell he brushed out his hair, leaving it fluffier. Hollis loved the usual curls Roman sported, but this was cute, too.
“Finally you show up.” Roman sets his phone down as Hollis approaches him. “And you said I’d stand you up.”
Hollis feels his face heat up as Roman nudges him, an inch of space between the two. This was more than the accidental brush of hands in the classroom as they passed papers.
“I was like two minutes late, please.” Hollis rolls his eyes, nudging Roman back.
The brunet simply pulls Hollis by his sleeve over to the register, looking at the signs above their heads to see what snacks were offered. Hollis fidgeted with his jeans until he located his wallet, pulling out his card.
“What do you want? I’ll buy it for you.” Hollis leans closer to Roman’s ear to ask.
Roman shakes his head, reaching into his own wallet and handing the cashier $30.
“We can just share popcorn.”
“I was gonna pay for it.” Hollis all but pouts, eyebrows furrowing.
“Aw, you gotta be quicker than that, Holli.” Roman turns to thank the cashier as she hands him fresh popcorn and two cups. Hollis gets a red slushie while Roman gets blue with a little bit of Coca-Cola at the bottom.
They find their seats at the back of the showing room, which is relatively empty. The nearest person is 3 rows up, giving them enough space to talk without being shushed. Hollis’ slushie is almost gone from nervous chugging, while Roman has only taken maybe two sips.
The movie is interesting to say the least. It’s a bunch of bad sound effects and overdone stunts, but it’s entertaining. Hollis’ favorite part was not the actual movie itself but the laughter its stupidity brought out of Roman. His laugh was even more intoxicating in person than it was on the phone, and Hollis felt as if he’d do anything to hear it again.
Since the popcorn bucket rested in Roman’s lap, Hollis finds himself having to reach over the boy frequently. Their fingers touch on multiple occasions, and it flusters Hollis to the point of apology. Roman is as nonchalant as he usually is, but Hollis notices the slightest smile every time their fingertips brush. He wonders if the sensation gives him butterflies, too, or if it’s all intentional and he’s teasing him. After it happens a fifth time, Hollis decides he’s done with the popcorn.
The movie ends after what feels like forever, and Hollis can’t hold back his own laughter as the credits roll. Roman looks at him like he’s crazy but eventually laughs, too, an amused giggle hidden behind his hand. A quiet yet mutual agreement between the two: that movie sucked.
They exit the theater and Hollis squints as the lighting changes, shielding his eyes with his hand as they walk back to his car. Roman doesn’t seem to be bothered at all, not by the burning hot Sun or the warmed metal of the seatbelt’s buckle. He’s been relatively calm this entire hangout, and it’s refreshing. Hollis doesn’t feel like he’s walking on eggshells, trying not to piss him off and get the silent treatment or some other cruel punishment.
“Can we go eat now? I’m starving.” Roman groans, resting his head against the dashboard. Hollis laughs and shifts the car into drive, reaching to turn on the radio.
“I can’t see how. You fucking devoured that popcorn.”
Roman lightly shoves his arm, nostrils flaring. “No, I fucking didn’t, shut up.”
Hollis barks out a laugh and turns up the radio, watching Roman’s scowl turn into a smile from the corner of his eye.
They pull into the drive-thru of a McDonald’s that’s been there since long before Hollis was born, probably, if its condition was anything to go by. The food was mediocre, but it was cheap and Hollis couldn’t be bothered to drive 30 minutes out to a nice diner or something. Roman would probably appreciate a less public spot anyways.
Besides, sitting in the car, blasting music, and stealing fries from Roman was probably more fun. He cackles as Roman swats his hands away, yelling at him to eat his own food.
“Wait, okay, you’ve never heard of Al Green?” Hollis leans back against the driver’s seat, a fry hanging out of his mouth.
Roman scrunched up his nose at the behavior, looking down at his burger. “I’ve heard of him, I think, I’ve just never listened to him.” He shrugs, taking a sip from Hollis’ drink.
“That’s mine.” His face heats up once again, waiting for Roman’s expression to shift to embarrassment or realization. It never does.
“I know. I wanted Coke.”
“Oh. Okay, um… What about Justice? Have you listened to them?”
“Dude, who are these people?” Roman snorted, shaking his head.
“It’s good music! Here.” He grabs his phone, opening Spotify and pulling up Love and Happiness by Al Green. He grabs his tangled earbuds from his pocket and plugs them into his phone, offering Roman one. The brunet looks at him suspiciously, to which Hollis just sighs and places it in his ear for him.
“Trust me.” He presses play, placing the other earbud in his own ear. The opening chords begin to play, and while Roman’s face doesn’t change much, Hollis notices his hand ever so softly tapping his leg to the rhythm.
“You like it.” Hollis beams, nudging Roman. He rolls his eyes, jerking his shoulder away from him. Even so, he makes no attempt to pause the song or take out the earbud. Hollis’ heart jumped at the idea of sharing something with Roman and him actually enjoying it. A sense of pride, maybe. Or perhaps just pure, unbridled joy.
𓂃⋆.˚
Hollis contemplates ending the day here, not wanting to step out of bounds by inviting Roman to his house. But, surprisingly, Roman beats him to it, telling him he didn’t wanna go home just yet, that it was still early.
So they ended up back in Hollis’ room, his Mom out and his brother at a friend’s house. Roman peered around the new space like a caged animal newly relocated, curious and a bit intrigued. He kept his hands for the most part, until he saw Hollis’ computer open on the bed to yet another one of his unfinished projects.
“I didn’t know you made music.” He sits on his bed, looking to Hollis as if to ask if he could hear.
“I told you I did.” Hollis sits next to Roman, scrolling to a project he was a bit more proud of.
“Yea, but I thought you meant like… as something to pass the time or some shit. Not seriously.” He turns and blinks at him with an expression Hollis, once again, couldn’t quite read.
“You wanna hear?” Hollis chuckles.
Roman nods. So for the next 30 minutes or so, Hollis shows Roman a few different songs, many of which he’s uploaded. Hollis was not shy about his music, he knew that much. He wanted it to reach millions one day, and he knew the only way for that to happen was to put it out there. But having this boy he felt so strongly about willingly listening to his music and seeming to enjoy it? That was an entirely different feeling, one he was sure he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not like this.
Roman kept glancing at him between songs, like he was analyzing the person who made the very music he was listening to. The looks ranged from a few seconds to full moments, especially lingering on his face. Hollis did his best to pretend he didn’t notice, but he could feel this growing tension between them, the feeling of being watched and admired.
“Hollis…” Roman finally spoke, voice slightly raspy after prolonged silence.
“Yea?” Hollis clears his own throat, taking the risk and turning to him. His pupils are definitely larger than he remembers, and there’s a flush to his face that doesn’t match the cool temperature of the room.
Before Hollis can even process these two factors, Roman’s mouth is on his. It knocks the breath out of him, he’ll admit, but he quickly falls into it, breathing through his nose. Roman tastes like the slushie he drank at the theater and probably ketchup but Hollis couldn’t give less of a fuck. He was kissing Roman. Roman was kissing him.
His heart felt like it might beat out of his chest, the strong burst of adrenaline dizzying. Hollis grabs any part of Roman that he can reach, scared the moment would end as quickly as it began. His right hand trailed up his back, fingers burying in Roman’s hair. His fingers caught onto a single plait, hidden by the rest of the boy’s (rather soft) hair. He feels around some more and registers another braid, just a few inches away from the first. Hollis pulls away from the kiss and laughs, staring into the eyes of a kiss-drunken Roman.
“What’s funny?” He furrowed his eyebrows, already leaning in for more.
“Nothing, nothing…” Hollis pecks his lips, trying to initiate another kiss.
“Something’s funny.” Roman pulls back, a slight pout on his lips. Hollis wants to kiss it off. If only he’d let him.
“It’s nothing, Ro. Just the braids, I didn’t notice them before. They’re cute.” Hollis finally reconnects their lips. Roman makes no attempt to protest or press more, melting into the kiss.
They make out for what feels like hours, and might as well be. Roman ends up straddling Hollis’ waist at some point, the latter’s large hands sliding up his shirt. Roman shivers a bit as his cold fingers grip at his waist, but soon they warm with the effort of his body heat.
He climbs off of him and flops down beside the blond to catch his breath as the Sun begins to set. They stare at the ceiling in silence for a few minutes before Hollis hesitantly reaches out his hand for Roman to grab. The boy stares at it for a few seconds, and Hollis closes his eyes to try and lessen the embarrassment he’s feeling until he feels warm fingers intertwining with his own. His eyes open, head turning to face Roman, who looks back at him.
He looks so soft in this moment, like an angel fallen right into Hollis’ bed. He wishes he could stay here like this forever, with Roman looking at him in a way he never has before. But his mother would be home soon, and Angus would probably bring over a friend or two to play video games, and the moment would be awkward and ruined. He pushed those thoughts out of his head, trying to live in the now, in the present, enjoy Roman’s warmth while he still had it.
He watches the slow rise and fall of his chest, imagining his ear pressed against it, listening to the quiet thumping of his heart. Had it slowed now that they’d stopped kissing? Or was physical contact simply enough to raise his heart rate? Because it was definitely enough for Hollis.
He feels his eyelids growing heavier, exhaling as he closes his eyes for just a second. He quickly opens them again, as if to make sure Roman had not suddenly disappeared. He hadn’t. He stares back at Hollis, blinking every so often. It doesn’t creep him out or unsettle him. Instead, it comforts him, to know Roman’s attention was solely on him.
He closes his eyes again and does not remember anything after that.
When he opens them again after what must’ve been a few hours, Roman is gone. He hears his mother on the phone in the kitchen, and Angus yelling at his game, but no Roman. He groans and reaches for his phone, pressing the side button just once. 10:15 p.m. Hollis feels a deep ache in his chest, a mixture of disappointment and longing. He pulls up Roman’s contact a few seconds later.
Hollis worried about Roman. Did something happen when he went home? Had he gotten in trouble for being out so late? Had he heard his mom or brother coming in and got scared? So many different thoughts at once, endless scenarios and possibilities. Hollis scanned through each one in his head until he grew tired and fell asleep again, phone resting face down on his chest.
𓂃⋆.˚
Contrary to what he told him the previous day, Roman did not text or call him at all on Sunday. Not in the morning, not in the afternoon, not in the evening to explain his absence. Midnight rolled around and there was no facetime call. He checked his phone every time it pinged but found only app notifications or texts from the group chat. Where was Roman?
He waited up until almost 2 am, hoping and praying Roman would just send a text or try to dial his phone. Nothing. Hollis had to be up for school in a few hours, so he sighed and set his phone on the dresser, rolling over. He stared at the spot Roman lay less than two days ago, now cold and empty the way he left it. Hollis fell asleep imagining he was there again, holding onto his hand the way he did that night.
Hollis’ concern turned into irritation and frustration when he saw Roman in the halls that Monday morning, talking to Chessa and a few of his other friends. He looked perfectly fine, not dejected or out of it. He laughs at a joke a girl Hollis remembers to be named Hailee makes. Nate settles beside Hollis near the lockers, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Roman. He stares so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he burned a hole through him.
When Roman finally feels eyes on him, he follows them and is soon staring back at Hollis. There is no nod or smile this time. His eyes do not light up ever so slightly the way Hollis began to notice they did recently. He stares at him for a few seconds before he looks away, back to Hailee, Chessa, and the others.
All that progress on Saturday, what was it for? The jokes, sharing food, Roman being the first person outside of Hollis’ friend group to hear his music? The kiss? They made out for almost a fucking hour in Hollis’ room, in Hollis’ bed, when no one else was home and now Roman was scowling at him?
Hollis tried not to let it affect him. He didn’t want to overthink this or believe that Roman would pull something like this after everything they did together just two days ago. Because that would then lead him to finally see him how Nate and Ryan did. And Hollis didn’t want to see him that way. He liked Roman. Really liked him.
So he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and carried on with the school day, hoping Nate or Ryan had something entertaining to distract him.
But the final straw would come no more than a few hours later, when he texted Roman once he made it home. It made his heart drop to his stomach, and he could feel the rose-colored lenses start to fall. Hollis felt stupid. Helplessly and utterly stupid.
Tags: Dark romance, vampires, emotional manipulation, physical violence.
Fem!Reader × Vampire!Hollis.
(And for now, a Vampire!Roman)
Part2.
Frostshadow
The cold of the portrait gallery seemed to freeze even further as Roman’s words settled into your mind. You stood paralyzed, feeling the echo of his voice resonate against the stone walls.
"You are so damn foolish," he let out, unleashing a short, dry laugh dripping with venomous mockery. "Did he really convince you that easily? He spreads your legs with promises of protection, sells you a tragic knight-in-shining-armor facade... and you run to sleep with him. He fed on you, drank the blood that belongs to me as well, and you handed it all to him on a silver platter."
"Shut up!" you exclaims, feeling a knot of panic and rage tightening in your throat.
You shoved his chest with all your strength to push him away, but Roman barely moved a millimeter. With unnatural speed, his hand clamped around your wrist with the iron grip of a shackle.
"Let go of me, Roman!" you said, trying to break free to no avail. "I don't know what kind of lies you're making up, but I don't want to hear it. It's absolute nonsense!"
"Nonsense?" he whispered, leaning in until you could see the dark veins crossing his feverish pupils. "I'm telling you the truth. About what we were before that monster stuck his hands in."
Roman tightened his grip, and though he didn't hurt you, the intensity of his gaze froze you in place. His mocking expression fractured for a second, revealing an ancient rage, a resentment that had been festering for centuries.
"We were just humans..." he continued, speaking in a low, almost melancholy tone, invoking a past your current mind couldn't process. "We were happy in our insignificant mortal life until he appeared. Hollis looked at you from his aristocratic pedestal, grew obsessed with you, and you—with that romantic stupidity that has always defined you—fell head over heels for him. You gave him your heart and left me empty-handed."
You blinked, confused, as the pieces of a grotesque puzzle tried to fit together in your head.
"And when you died..." Roman went on, curling his lips into a bitter smile that revealed the tips of his fangs, "when your body went cold and you left this world, Hollis nearly lost his mind. But fate has a twisted sense of humor, you know? A true demon of the night, a vampire who loved watching the world burn, found us both broken by your absence. He turned us. He gave us immortality not as a gift, but as a curse to ensure that Hollis and I would keep tearing each other apart over your ghost for centuries."
Roman tugged gently on your wrist, forcing you to step toward him, trapping you between his body and the marble pillar.
"We have roamed this earth as monsters for three hundred years, killing each other over the memory of a woman who was already underground. And now that you are here again, flesh and bone, you let yourself be manipulated by the same man who destroyed our mortal life. You're nothing but naive if you believe he sees you as someone free... You are merely the trophy we've been bleeding for over three centuries."
"And you aren't even aware of how he does it, are you?" Roman added, giving your wrist a firmer squeeze as he leaned even closer. "He manipulates you as he pleases. Every time he feels you hesitating, he asks you to look into his eyes. And you, like an obedient puppet, do it. He clouds your judgment with that look of devotion, numbing your will so you don't question a single thing he does."
Your lips trembled. A icy chill ran down your spine as you recalled how many times Hollis had asked you to do precisely that in the dim light of the library or the warmth of the parlor.
"Let her go."
The voice echoed through the gallery not as a shout, but as a sepulchral sentence that seemed to make the stone foundations of the castle vibrate.
In the blink of an eye, Hollis was there at the end of the hallway. His posture was rigid, and his dark eyes burned with a restrained fury that made the winter outside look mild.
Roman didn't release you right away. Instead, he flashed a slow, provocative smile before barely turning his face toward his rival.
"You're late to the family gathering, Hollis," Roman said mockingly, though his body instinctively tensed in the Count's presence. "I was just explaining to our sweet guest how you brainwashed her into falling into your bed. Again."
"I warned you what would happen if you set foot on these lands again," Hollis responded, advancing at a slow yet lethal pace, his fists clenched at his sides. "Step away from her. Now."
"Or what? You're going to banish me again?" Roman challenged, tilting his chin up. "You can't shield her from the truth forever. She has the right to know you're nothing but a desperate manipulator trying to reclaim a ghost."
"You know nothing about what she feels or wants," Hollis hissed, closing the distance until he was only a few feet away, his jaw tight with rage. "She chose to be here."
"Because you have her spellbound!" Roman spat, raising his voice for the first time, laying bare the rift of hatred that bound them. "Just like three hundred years ago!"
The argument between the two inmortals escalated into a flurry of venomous accusations about the past, broken promises, and the curse that tied them together. Their voices thundered through the gallery like lightning, heavy with suffocating pressure.
You were trapped in the center of the crossfire. Your legs began to give out, and an uncontrollable tremor seized your entire body. Your breathing grew fast and shallow, choked by the panic of having two ancient monsters on the verge of tearing each other apart in front of you. A small, stifled sob escaped your chest.
The sound was minimal, but to the hyper-attuned senses of the two vampires, it was as deafening as shattering glass.
The argument stopped dead.
Roman faltered. Feeling the tremor running through your arm and noticing the deathly pallor of your face, the arrogance in his features crumbled for a moment, revealing a flash of genuine surprise and guilt. Hollis, for his part, froze in place; seeing the sheer terror reflected in your eyes—a fear directed at both of them—the fury on his face gave way to deep, instant pain.
For one eternal second, the two predators stood motionless, aware that they had pushed you to the brink.
Taking advantage of that moment of hesitation—when Roman's grip loosened and Hollis's eyes filled with guilt—you yanked your wrist with every ounce of strength you had left.
You broke free. Without a second thought, you spun around and bolted.
Your footsteps echoed frantically against the gallery’s marble. You didn't look back when you heard Hollis call your name in the distance, nor when Roman's bitter laughter echoed off the walls again. The only thought pounding in your head was escaping that castle.
You crossed the inner courtyard, your breath ragged. The weather outside was no longer the harsh storm of days prior; the sky looked a bit brighter, and winter sunlight filtered through the clouds, melting the snow along the path. But daylight did nothing to ease the ache in your chest or the panic devouring you inside.
As you burst through the heavy iron gates leading to the forest, Barnaby's words returned to you with the force of a direct blow:
"They seduce you with their books, their elegance, and their wise words... until they strip away everything you are and leave you a hollow shell. They can inflict a damage you will never recover from!"
Tears of rage and fear streamed down your cheeks, freezing as they met the cold air. "Why me? I wish none of this had ever happened to me... I wish I had never set foot in that library," you thought desperately, fearing not only what Hollis had been doing to you with his gazes and words, but also the lurking danger Roman's arrival posed. You were trapped between two monsters.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
High on the castle's main facade, in one of the east wing windows, two impeccably dressed servants observed the scene from the warmth of the interior.
One of them, holding a feather duster, watched your green-clad figure sprinting down the dirt path, dodging branches and stumbling through the snow.
"She always runs..." the servant muttered with a tired sigh, unbothered in the slightest.
The other servant, arranging a silver tray, approached the window, glanced at your receding silhouette, and simply nodded in silence, taking a sip of tea before returning to his duties. To them, seeing the maiden-of-the-moment flee the Count in terror was just another part of the castle's daily routine.
Within seconds, your figure disappeared entirely into the dense pines, heading down the path back to the village.
The trek toward the village was pure torture. Your lungs burned from the effort and your dress grew heavy as it soaked up the mud from the melted snow, but adrenaline kept you moving until the first stone houses and village rooftops came into view.
You arrived at the main square disoriented, leaning against the edge of the stone fountain to catch your breath, your heart hammering wildly against your ribs. The villagers watched you with curiosity and hushed whispers, but you had only one goal: get to your house, lock the door, and never step out again.
However, before you could take a step toward your street, a gaunt figure emerged from the crowd.
It was Barnaby.
The old man looked far worse than before. His hair was wildly matted, his clothes torn, and his bloodshot, wide eyes darted around in feverish panic. Upon spotting you, his chapped lips formed a gesture of desperation. He signaled rapidly, calling you toward the entrance of a narrow alleyway.
Overwhelmed by the fear that Hollis or Roman might appear at any corner, you didn't hesitate. You ran to him and allowed him to drag you into the damp shadows of the dark alley, away from the villagers' eyes.
"It's a mistake! It's a terrible mistake!" Barnaby began to babble the moment you were hidden, grabbing your shoulders with unnatural strength that made you gasp in pain.
"Barnaby, please..." you pleaded, trying to catch your breath. "I had to run from the castle, they... Roman is there, and Hollis..."
"Shut up! You understand nothing!" he interrupted with a choked shout, shaking you violently. "You foolish, ignorant girl! I warned you, I told you what would happen, and you walked straight into their clutches like a beast to the slaughter!"
The old man began to hyperventilate, looking around as if the alley's shadows were coming alive. His face contorted into a mask of pure madness.
"They are going to destroy you... They will wring your soul out until there's nothing left of you, just like my sister," he whispered, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth. "You won't survive it. You will end up far worse than you are now... Far worse!"
"Barnaby, you're scaring me, let me go..." you said, trying to push his hands away, but fear had you paralyzed.
Suddenly, the old man's eyes locked onto yours with a terrifying resolve. Madness took complete control of his actions.
Without warning, Barnaby lunged at you.
The impact slammed your back against the alley's stone wall. His hands, hard and rough like dry branches, clamped around your throat, trapping you against the wall as his weight suffocated you.
"It's for your own good!" he began to sob hysterically, squeezing with wild force. "It's better if I kill you now! It's better you die clean before they turn you into their monster! That way you won't suffer anymore!"
Tears spilled uncontrollably from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as the lack of air began to burn your chest. You tried to claw at his arms, but panic drained your strength.
"No... Barnaby, please!" you begged through choked gasps, your voice shattered by terror. "No... please, no!"
Before you could free yourself, Barnaby shoved you with blind force. You lost your balance and fell hard onto the cobblestones, your knees and palms slamming into the frozen mud.
Out of his mind and eyes wide with insanity, the old man stooped awkwardly and grabbed a heavy, sharp stone lying in the dirt. He raised it above his head with both hands, trembling as tears mixed with the grime on his face.
"It's the only way to save you!" he screamed with a broken voice, preparing the strike.
You squeezed your eyes shut, covering your face with your arms and sobbing in pure terror, awaiting the impact that never came.
In a millisecond, a shadow burst into the alley. A gust of freezing air cut through the gloom, and Barnaby's body was sent flying against the opposite wall with a dull thud. The stone dropped to the ground, clattering against the cobblestones.
Hollis was there.
His tall, elegant figure stood out in the alley's darkness. His face was a mask of absolute fury, his dark eyes glowing dangerously, fists clenched at his sides.
Barnaby, lying on the ground coughing in the dirt, looked up. Recognizing the Count, primal terror paralyzed him. The old man began to tremble violently, scrambling backward until he hit a wooden wall, pressing his hands together in desperate plea.
"Mercy... My Lord, mercy... My God, forgive me, I didn't know what I was doing..." Barnaby began to mutter under his breath, babbling incoherent prayers with a voice choked by panic.
Hollis didn't even bother to listen to his pleas. Without a word, cold and efficient, he crossed the distance between them in a flash. Before the old man could finish his prayer, Hollis snapped his neck with a swift, silent motion. Barnaby's body went limp on the ground, plunging the alley into sepulchral silence.
Still in shock on the mud, breathing heavily, you felt Hollis turn toward you. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you watched him approach.
Without asking, the Count scooped you up in his arms, lifting you off the ground with terrifying ease before you could react or speak. He held you tight against his chest with a grip hovering between protection and rigid possession, wrapping you in his dark cloak as he left Barnaby's corpse and the deserted passage behind.
The trip back to the castle was a blur of speed and shadows.
The moment you crossed the heavy iron gates of the estate and he set you on your feet in the warmth of the foyer, Hollis turned to you, completely losing the serene composure that usually defined him.
"What on earth were you thinking?!" he demanded, his voice booming off the stone walls, looking at you with a mix of anger and suppressed anguish. "Running off into that nest of ignorants! I told you that you were safe here, but you preferred to run straight toward a madman who nearly killed you with a rock!"
Hollis took a step toward you, gently trapping you against the doorframe, his breathing ragged with exertion and frustration.
"That village has nothing for you. They are blinded by fear and ignorance, incapable of understanding what surrounds you. If you ever set foot outside these walls again without my protection, I cannot guarantee you will make it back alive next time. I will not let you make such a foolish mistake again."
"Forgive me..." you whispered, your voice broken by tears, trembling from head to toe as you wrapped your arms around yourself. "Forgive me, Hollis... I didn't know that would happen, I didn't know Barnaby was like that..."
"That's the problem! You know nothing!" he interrupted, raising his voice so abruptly it made you jump.
Hollis clenched his teeth, exhaling heavily as he looked you up and down with clear annoyance. He noticed the mud stains on the hem of your dress, the dirt on your hands, and your pale skin, frozen from the trek and the panic.
He frowned deeply and, with a sharp gesture, snapped his fingers, echoing through the grand hall. Within seconds, three servants appeared in the shadows as if waiting for the command behind the pillars.
"Take her," Hollis ordered coldly, not taking his eyes off you. "Prepare a bath for her immediately. I don't want her catching fever again because of her recklessness."
Before you could move, Hollis reached out toward you. It was meant to be a delicate touch, brushing the fabric of your sleeve, but the frustration bottled up inside him proved stronger: his grip tightened, and with a firm shove, he pushed you toward the servants. You stumbled forward, and the servants' cold hands quickly caught you, silently guiding you toward the main staircase to take you to your quarters.
You turned your head one last time to look at him, but Hollis was already giving you his back, striding toward his study as he adjusted his shirt cuffs.
What neither of you noticed at that moment was the shadow cast across the second-floor balcony.
Hidden among the stone reliefs and the gloom of the heavy drapes, Roman had witnessed the entire show.
He leaned his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as a mocking, amused smile spread across his lips. He stifled a low laugh—a bitter, amused murmur—at the scene: Hollis, the majestic and terrifying Count, losing his patience and scolding you like a disobedient child.
"How pathetic you've become, Hollis..." Roman thought to himself, watching the staff escort you down the hall.
However, the amusement on Roman's face slowly morphed into a sly, calculating gleam. Seeing the coldness with which Hollis had just treated you—the shove, the authoritarian tone, and the total lack of empathy after the trauma you had just suffered—lit a spark in his mind.
Hollis had just made a error. He had pushed you away at the exact moment you were most vulnerable. And Roman, with centuries of experience manipulating the cracks in the human psyche, knew precisely what role he needed to play to earn your trust and snatch it right out of Hollis's hands.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
After the afternoon's tension, Hollis and Roman had reached a fragile, bitter agreement. Roman promised not to interfere or "bother" the girl, agreeing to leave the castle in a couple of days in exchange for avoiding a clash that would lay waste to what remained of the province.
A few hours later, the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of violet and orange.
You were in the backyard, sitting on the stone bench surrounded by melting snow. Your eyes were swollen from crying, a heavy sadness weighing on your chest. With slow, mechanical movements, you tossed breadcrumbs to a flock of crows gathered at your feet, seeking solace in the birds' quiet presence while Barnaby's words and the harshness of Hollis's push echoed in your mind.
From one of the high second-floor windows, Hollis watched you. His posture was tense, but the fury from hours ago had given way to a somber, regretful calm.
"I still don't understand why you haven't turned her," a voice beside him remarked.
Roman leaned against the window frame, gazing in the same direction with one hand in his pocket.
Hollis didn't take his eyes off your figure in the garden. He kept silent for a few seconds before answering in a soft tone, strangely warm and laden with ancient devotion:
"Because turning her would destroy her. I like feeling the warmth radiating from her skin when I hold her, listening to the hurried rhythm of her heartbeat when she's excited or frightened... I like seeing the flush on her cheeks and knowing true life flows through her veins, not the cold illusion that sustains us. Immortality is a hollow curse, Roman. If I turn her, she loses that spark of humanity that makes her who she is... and I would rather burn a thousand times in her mortal warmth than condemn her to the eternal darkness where we rot."
When Hollis finished his quiet, passionate declaration, he turned his head slightly to face his rival.
Roman had his head tilted back, eyes closed, letting out an exaggerated fake snore. Opening one eye to catch Hollis's stern gaze, he feigned waking up with a mocking laugh.
"How touching, truly. I almost shed a tear," Roman scoffed, shaking his head sarcastically. "What a load of romantic drivel. You're still the same pathetic sentimentalist you were three hundred years ago."
Hollis was about to offer a cold retort, but the sound of rushed footsteps down the corridor interrupted him. A servant paused at the doorway, making a quick bow.
"My Lord, forgive the intrusion. Messengers from the neighboring province's council have arrived in the foyer. They demand your immediate presence to review the border treaties before nightfall."
Hollis frowned, annoyed by the ill-timed visit. He cast one last glance down at the yard, where you were still feeding the crows, and then fixed his dark eyes on Roman with an implicit threat.
"Remember our agreement," Hollis warned in a firm voice. "Stay away from her."
"Relax, Count. I'm just enjoying the view," Roman replied with an innocent smile, holding his hands up in peace.
Hollis turned and strode out of the room to handle the messengers. He would only need ten or fifteen minutes to dismiss them... but for an immortal, that was more than enough time.
The moment Hollis's footsteps faded down the hallway, Roman's mocking smile shifted into a predatory, calculating gaze. He peered out the window, saw you alone on the stone bench, and in the blink of an eye, vanished from the room.
The evening cold was settling over the courtyard, but you didn't move from the bench. One of the crows—the largest, jet-black bird you had rescued from the storm days ago—perched trustingly on your knee, tilting its head for crumbs.
You looked into its dark, impenetrable eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Tell me the truth..." you whispered softly, gently stroking its feathers. "Do you think he truly loves me? Or am I just another ornament in his castle?"
The crow tilted its head, but before it could caw, a smooth, deep voice answered from behind you:
"Birds aren't very good at love advice, sweetheart. But if you want the answer from someone who has known Hollis for centuries... the answer is no."
You gasped, jumping violently. The crow took flight in alarm as you spun around to find Roman standing a few paces away, watching you with that sly, calculating grin.
You pressed your lips together, feeling your stomach twist again. Remembering the agreement, the fear, and Hollis's warning, you simply adjusted your coat, stood up, and decided to ignore him entirely, turning your back to head for the entrance.
"Oh, come now, don't give me the cold shoulder," he said, appearing right in front of you in a flash, blocking your path before you could walk two paces.
You stopped dead, holding your breath. Roman, without losing his exasperating poise, took a couple of steps back and sat down naturally on the edge of the stone bench you had just vacated, crossing one leg over the other.
"You don't have to run away every time you see me," he noted, resting his elbows on his knees and looking up at you. "I just came to make sure your head doesn't still ache after the old lunatic's little show in town. Hollis was quite rough with you, don't you think? Shoving you like that in front of the servants... how ungentlemanly of him."
"I have nothing to say to you, Roman," you said firmly, though you were still trembling inside. "Do me a favor and leave me alone."
"I know you're scared and confused," he continued, ignoring your request while tossing a small pebble between his fingers. "Hollis has sold you a lovely story where he's your savior and I'm the villain. But tell me something... if he truly loves you as much as he claims, why does he keep you locked up like a bird in a gilded cage? Why does he prefer watching you cry in a frozen garden over giving you the freedom to choose?"
You fell silent for a second, feeling his words find a crack in your armor. The anger over Hollis's push and the frustration of being tied to this place surged back to the surface.
"He protects me," you answered, trying to convince yourself more than him.
Roman let out a low, bitter laugh, shaking his head.
"He isn't protecting you from this world; he's protecting you from the truth. Because he knows the day you open your eyes and realize you're nothing more than the replacement for a ghost... you'll leave. And he couldn't bear losing his toy a second time."
You shook your head vigorously, clenching your hands into fists as tears welled up in your eyes.
"No... I don't want to talk about this," you said, your voice choked as you turned your gaze away.
Roman didn't push. Instead of pressing further, he fell into a sudden silence. An enigmatic, almost serene smile formed on his face as he observed you. There was no mockery in his eyes now, only a cold, calculating patience.
The weight of exhaustion, the chill creeping into your bones, and the confusion consuming your chest proved stronger than your caution. You let out a long sigh, and instead of walking away, you slowly approached and sat on the far end of the stone bench right beside him, pulling your legs in for warmth.
Roman made no sudden moves to avoid frightening you. He waited a few seconds, letting the courtyard's silence wrap around you both, before breaking the ice in a soft, casual tone:
"Tell me something... have you ever wondered what it would be like to never feel cold again? To never have been afraid in that alley? Have you never liked the idea of being a vampire?"
You froze for a second. You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Barnaby's warnings and Hollis's secrets clashed in your mind, but curiosity ultimately won over caution.
"What... what does it feel like to be one?" you asked in a murmur, glancing at him sideways.
Roman's smile broadened, fascinated. He shifted on the bench, leaning in just close enough to speak into your ear in a magnetic, hypnotic tone.
"It feels like the whole world belongs to you," he began, lacing every word with intoxicating allure. "Forget human fragility. There is no sickness, no exhaustion, no fear of some madman in an alley trying to hurt you because with a flick of your fingers you could destroy him. Your senses become infinite: you can hear the flutter of a butterfly's wings miles away, see in the darkest night as if it were midday, and the strength... the power running through your veins is intoxicating. You cease to be the prey and become the pinnacle of everything. No one manipulates you ever again. No one locks you up ever again."
Roman's words resonated in the emptiness of your doubts like a perfect echo. You pictured yourself strong, invulnerable, leaving behind the tears, the fear of falling ill, and the feeling of helplessness that had trailed you since setting foot in this castle.
"Yes..." you replied in an involuntary whisper, your eyes lost in the snow. "I would like to be one."
"Then ask Hollis," Roman stated casually, leaning back against the stone and watching you victoriously. "Ask him. If he truly loves you the way he says he does, if he truly cares about you... he'll grant you immortality tonight. He'll give you the gift of being his equal."
You remained quiet. That idea instantly took root in your mind, branching out and growing with dangerous force.
Before you could say anything else, the dining hall bell chimed from the main tower, announcing dinner. Roman stood up with effortless elegance, offered you one last mysterious bow, and vanished into the shadows without another word.
You were left alone in the courtyard for a few moments longer, your mind a whirlwind. You stood up slowly and walked into the castle for dinner, carrying that single, unyielding thought pounding in your head: you would ask Hollis to turn you.
The main dining hall was wrapped in a thick, heavy silence, broken only by the crackle of embers in the hearth and the clink of silverware against china.
You sat along the side of the long mahogany table. In front of you was a plate served with juicy cuts of freshly prepared venison. While you ate in silence, trying to quiet the storm of thoughts Roman had planted in your mind, Hollis and Roman occupied opposite ends of the table. In front of them were no plates of meat, but cut-crystal goblets filled to the brim with the fresh blood of the same animal hunted hours earlier.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife until Roman broke the ice, resting his elbows on the table with complete nonchalance.
"So, Hollis... when will the party be?" he asked, taking a sip from his glass while eyeing you subtly.
You looked up quickly from your plate, eyes wide, an instant spark of excitement lighting up your face.
"Will there be a party?" you asked, looking at Hollis with anticipation.
In an instant, the glare Hollis directed at Roman turned murderously fierce; if looks could incinerate, Roman would already be ashes on the tablecloth. However, the moment Hollis turned his face toward you, his features softened completely, adopting the warm, protective tone he always used with you.
"Yes, there will be a ball," Hollis replied, tracing a faint smile, though his words carried a dark undertone. "It is necessary to host a gathering for the nobles and calm the atmosphere. We need to distract the neighboring villages after the... sudden and inexplicable disappearances that have occurred overnight in the area."
Hollis emphasized the final words while staring intently at Roman, making it crystal clear he knew his guest's "hunting" hadn't been limited to wild game in the forest.
Roman, for his part, simply stared at the ceiling with a picture of absolute innocence, letting out a low whistle and feigning ignorance as if the accusations had nothing to do with him.
Hollis set his goblet on the table and refocused his full attention on you, shifting subjects to erase any lingering tension.
"I will send for the seamstress first thing tomorrow morning," he said gently. "Tell me, what color would you like your dress to be for that night?"
You paused to think for a moment, holding your fork in midair as you pictured the fabrics and silks gliding across the castle's great ballroom.
"A pale pink," Roman chimed in quietly before you could answer. "Light pink silk with delicate embroidery. It would complement your skin tone perfectly."
You smiled at the suggestion, visualizing the combination.
"Yes..." you nodded enthusiastically, looking at Hollis. "I would really love a light pink dress."
Hollis's jaw clenched instantly. He locked eyes with Roman again with hatred so pure and concentrated that the crystal goblet in his hand creaked slightly under the pressure of his fingers, furious at how easily his rival was influencing your desires under his own roof.
Dinner ended in an uneasy atmosphere, and shortly after, silence reclaimed the castle hallways once again.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
You were lying in the grand bed of the master chamber, your head resting softly against Hollis's chest. The contrast between you two was stark: the warmth of your skin against the firm cold of his body. The Count held you in a slow, protective embrace, running his fingers through your hair while whispering sweet words in the dim light, telling you ancient stories and making promises for the night of the ball.
However, your thoughts remained fixed on your conversation with Roman in the garden.
"Hollis..." you interrupted in a whisper, breaking the tranquil rhythm of his caresses.
"What is it, my love?" he asked softly, continuing to stroke your hair.
"Why won't you turn me into a vampire?"
Hollis's hand froze instantly. The room seemed to grow colder. He shifted immediately, raising his face slightly to look you directly in the eyes, his expression a mix of surprise and severity.
"No," he answered in a firm, clipped voice. "That isn't going to happen."
"I want to be one!" you insisted, sitting up slightly to face him, feeling a surge of frustration. "I want to be by your side forever. I don't want to grow old, Hollis... I don't want to watch the years pass while I turn into a hideous old woman while you stay untouched, young, and immortal."
Hollis let out a deep sigh, heavy with ancient sorrow, and brought his hand to your cheek to cup your face with infinite tenderness.
"To me, you could never be hideous," he said in a low, gentle voice, like a prayer. "Turning you isn't a gift; it's destroying you. Immortality is a hollow curse, a frozen dark in which we rot. I love feeling the warmth of your skin when you hold me, listening to the rhythm of your heart when you are close... I love seeing the color in your cheeks and knowing true life flows through your veins. If I turn you, I lose that spark of humanity that makes you you, and I would rather grow old beside you a thousand times over and burn in your mortal warmth than condemn you to this eternity in the dark."
You heard his words, but the seed Roman had planted in your head was far too strong. Feeling a lump of frustration in your throat, you simply sighed heavily, hiding your face against his shoulder once more, dissatisfied with his answer.
Hollis noticed the distance in your gesture. Remaining calm, he used two fingers to gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.
"Look at me," he requested in a soft, velvety, magnetic voice.
You looked up. His dark pupils seemed as deep as an ocean in the shadows, instantly capturing your focus. A strange, soothing warmth began to spread from your chest to your head.
"Everything is fine," Hollis murmured, keeping eye contact. "Rest now. Go to sleep."
Within seconds, your eyelids began to feel irresistibly heavy. The frustration, the thoughts of Roman, and the lingering doubts dissolved like smoke, leaving only an overwhelming weight.
Unable to fight the sleep, you let your head rest on his chest again, settling into his arms as the steady sound of his breathing pulled you completely into the dark.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
In front of the tall full-length mirror, you stood in awe staring at your reflection. The pale pink silk dress fit you impeccably; the fabric draped softly in elegant folds that highlighted your figure, and the subtle embroidered details shimmered under the dim candlelight. For a moment, all the anguish, the doubts about the past, and the fear felt far away.
Firm, quiet footsteps announced his presence. Hollis appeared behind you in the reflection, dressed in a dark formal suit that heightened his majestic, commanding aura.
He gazed at you in silence for a few moments, a spark of pure devotion flashing across his dark eyes.
"You are breathtaking..." he murmured in a low, warm voice, stepping closer until his chest brushed your back.
From between his fingers, he produced a delicate silver ring, finely engraved and set with a gem in the center. Without telling you that it was actually imbued with an ancient spell designed specifically to mask the scent of your blood—preventing any other predator, especially Roman, from tracking or craving you—Hollis gently took your hand.
He slid the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger with an almost sacred slowness.
"I want you to wear this tonight. A small gift to complete your attire," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
You smiled, admiring how the silver gleamed against your skin.
"It's beautiful, Hollis... Thank you," you replied, turning in his arms to face him.
Hollis gently backed you up against the edge of the vanity, wrapping his arms around your waist as his eyes drifted to your lips. The tension of the previous days melted away in an instant of total intimacy. You leaned into him, and your lips met in a deep, slow, passionate kiss, where the heat of your breath collided with the coldness of his skin.
"I love you," you whispered against his lips as you parted by mere millimeters.
"I love you with my entire existence," he answered, sealing the promise with a final kiss to your forehead before offering his arm to lead you down to the grand hall.
Meanwhile, on the castle's ground floor, the atmosphere was far less idyllic.
The main ballroom glowed with chandeliers and orchestral music, filled with aristocrats and nobles from the neighboring towns. Yet, beneath the human crowd and the facade of elegance, a dangerous tension was coming to a boil in the shadows.
Taking advantage of the festival's hustle and the alleged "truce," three foreign vampires had managed to slip onto the property. They were old acquaintances from the neighboring province who harbored ancient grudges and blood debts against Roman. Having learned of his presence at Hollis's castle, they saw the ball as the perfect opportunity to confront him and exact their revenge, lurking among the wine glasses and lace masks, waiting for the exact moment to strike.
Context: Your stepsister's boyfriend is staying at your house (Yeah, you know what happens).
Fem!reader × Rommulas.
Confident.
The door slam echoed down the hallway before Vanessa entered the room without bothering to knock. She didn’t even look at you; she walked straight to the mirror, adjusting her hair with that superficial hurry that always characterized her.
"Do me a favor and pick up your stuff from the foyer," she said, using that clipped, condescending tone she reserved exclusively for you. "Roman gets here in ten minutes, and I don't want the house looking like a mess."
You didn't answer right away. You simply closed your notebook slowly, taking your time just to watch the vein in her neck pulse with impatience. Living with Vanessa had never been peaceful, but ever since your mother married his father, the house had turned into a minefield where she acted like the absolute owner and you like a nuisance she barely tolerated.
"The foyer belongs to everyone, Vanessa. And my things aren't bothering anyone," you answered calmly, holding her gaze through the mirror.
Vanessa let out a dry laugh, turning to you with her arms crossed.
"He’s my boyfriend, Y/n. It’s the first time he’s coming over for dinner, and he’s staying the night. I’m not going to let you ruin the evening with your vibe... you know how you are. So do yourself a favor and stay in your room if you're not going to contribute anything."
A classic. To her, you existed as an annoying ornament she preferred to hide whenever guests came over. Before you could reply, the doorbell rang downstairs. Vanessa’s expression shifted in a second: the tension in her shoulders melted away, her lips formed a radiant smile, and she hurried out into the hallway, almost tripping over her own heels.
You went down behind her—not to obey her, but because you refused to lock yourself away just because she ordered you to.
From the staircase landing, you saw him.
Roman was standing in the doorway. He wore a dark jacket, his hair was tastefully tousled, and he had a warm smile that lit up the entire entryway. At first glance, he was the textbook definition of the perfect guy: polite, absurdly attractive, and possessing an easy charm that made anyone feel comfortable around him within seconds.
"You arrived!" Vanessa threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arm around her waist, chuckling softly, and placed a sweet kiss on her lips.
"I told you I’d be here at eight. I’d never keep you waiting," his voice was deep, smooth, flawless.
But as Vanessa clung to his arm, talking nonstop about how long she had waited for this night, Roman looked up. His eyes traveled up the wooden steps until they landed on you.
He didn’t lose his smile. He didn’t make any suspicious gestures. In fact, his expression remained that of a flawless guest. But he held your gaze for a full second too long. A quiet, heavy eye contact, so dense that the air between you seemed to shift in temperature instantly.
"Oh, Roman... this is Y/n, the daughter of... well, I told you about her," Vanessa said, brushing it off with a vague hand gesture without even turning to look at you.
He took a step forward, still holding Vanessa by the arm, and walked to the base of the stairs.
"Hi, Y/n," he said your name with impeccable politeness, extending his hand. "Nice to finally meet you. Vanessa has told me... a lot about you."
You walked down the last three steps to return the greeting. You expected the formal, distant handshake of a stranger, but the skin of his hand was warm. As he let go, his fingers slid deliberately over yours—a soft, almost imperceptible friction that felt like an eternity, even though in front of Vanessa it looked like a simple act of courtesy.
"I can imagine," you replied, keeping your voice neutral and steady. "Probably nothing good."
Vanessa let out a light laugh, brushing off the drama of the moment.
"I just told him the truth, don't exaggerate," she said, taking him by the torso to guide him toward the living room.
Roman didn't laugh. He looked at you one last time before turning around, those dark eyes analyzing you in silence while maintaining the perfect smile for Vanessa.
He hadn't said anything out of line. He was acting like the attentive, devoted boyfriend. But the lingering warmth of his hand still burned on your fingers, leaving a sharp certainty in your chest.
The conversation in the living room had flowed with an almost irritating ease. Roman moved with seamless confidence, answering the adults' questions with the exact tone of maturity everyone adored. Vanessa, glued to his side, smirked smugly as if holding an invaluable trophy. Meanwhile, you tried to stay out of the spotlight in the armchair, but every so often, when you looked up, his dark eyes were already fixed on you before you had time to look away.
"Well, dinner is ready," your mother announced, standing up. "Can anyone help me bring the dishes and drinks to the table?"
Everyone scattered toward the kitchen and dining room. You approached the counter, your back to the entryway, to grab the dishware from the upper cabinets. Vanessa and her father were focused at the far end of the dining room aligning the placemats on the table, while your mother stayed crouched in front of the open refrigerator, looking for drinks on the shelves.
You held the stack of plates against your chest when suddenly, the light behind you dimmed.
Roman gave no warning. He passed through the narrow space between you and the kitchen island, pressing himself against you in a way that erased any social distance. You felt the sudden heat of his hands rest firmly on both sides of your waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your clothes. But what made you hold your breath completely was the pressure of his body: you felt the unmistakable firmness of his pelvis pressing against your backside—far too close, far too intentional to be a simple accident.
The air in the kitchen seemed to vanish. Your heart took a violent leap.
"Sorry... I needed to get through," Roman whispered right against your ear. His warm breath brushed your neck before his hands slid slowly down your hips, retreating with a calculated slowness.
He walked a couple of steps toward the counter as if nothing had happened, grabbing a pitcher of water. Your mother was still focused on the refrigerator door, and Vanessa was still laughing in the dining room. Nobody noticed a thing. You stood frozen in front of the counter, the plates heavy in your hands, with a strange, overwhelming sensation trailing down your spine.
A few minutes later, everyone was seated in the dining room. The seating arrangement left you directly across the table from Roman.
Dinner passed with light chatter and laughter. Vanessa wouldn't drop the subject of her weekend plans, constantly seeking approval from Roman, who nodded and smiled with flawless politeness.
During a brief lull between courses, Roman tilted his head slightly toward you, maintaining his posture as the perfect guest.
"Y/n, could you pass the salt, please?" he asked in a calm, steady voice.
You reached out to grab the glass salt shaker near your plate and leaned slightly over the table to hand it to him. You held it by the top, expecting him to simply take it from the base.
But Roman didn't go straight for the glass.
As he extended his hand, his long fingers brushed the back of yours first. The pad of his thumb slowly stroked your skin, sliding over your knuckles before fully wrapping around the salt shaker. It was a slow, warm, deliberate touch—a subtle caress that seemed to freeze time for an eternal second across the table.
You snapped your eyes up, meeting his dark gaze locked onto yours. There was no smirk, no obvious expression on his face; just a deep, serious stare holding yours with total composure, knowing full well what he had just done.
"Thank you," he said completely naturally, pulling the salt away just as Vanessa touched his arm to ask for his opinion on something.
You placed your hand back on your lap, your fingers feeling slightly numb. Your skin still held the heat of his touch, and as he turned back to answer Vanessa like the attentive boyfriend he appeared to be, the tension in your chest only grew thicker.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
The house had finally fallen into absolute silence. Past midnight, the hallway lights were off, and only the faint whisper of the wind outside could be heard. However, no matter how many times you tossed and turned in bed, sleep was impossible. The feeling of his hands on your waist and the trace of his fingers on your knuckles still felt fresh on your skin, keeping you in a state of frustrating alertness.
Tired of tossing around, you stood up silently and stepped out of the room.
Barefoot, you walked down the stairs, avoiding the steps you knew would creak. The ground floor was bathed in near-total darkness, illuminated only by the pale moonlight streaming through the patio window. You walked through the shadows to the kitchen and approached the refrigerator.
You opened the door, and white light flooded the space. You poured cold water into a glass, trying to soothe the dryness in your throat. You leaned your back against the counter, taking a long sip with your eyes closed, enjoying the quiet of the early morning.
"I thought I was the only one awake."
The voice was low, raspy, and dangerously close.
You jumped instinctively, stifling a gasp of surprise as the glass of water nearly slipped from your hands.
Roman was standing there.
He had emerged from the shadows of the hallway without making a sound. He was no longer wearing the jacket or the crisp shirt from dinner; he wore only a fitted black t-shirt and sweatpants. With his hair messy and his eyes fixed on you, the "perfect, polite guy" facade he had put on all evening seemed to have completely vanished.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he said in a low whisper, taking two slow steps into the kitchen.
"You did scare me," you replied, trying to keep your voice from trembling as you pressed yourself further against the counter. "What are you doing up?"
"I can't sleep in stranger's beds," he answered with complete composure, closing the distance between you without asking for permission. He stopped less than a step away. The height difference was glaring, and the heat radiating from his body felt almost aggressive in the cool kitchen.
"You could have asked for an extra blanket or..." you started, glancing toward the hallway with your heart hammering in your chest. "Vanessa sleeps deeply, but your footsteps carry."
Roman didn't look toward the stairs. He didn't care. He kept his eyes locked on yours, dipping down to your lips for a second before meeting your gaze again.
"I wasn't thinking about Vanessa anyway," he said in a thread of a voice, so low it sounded like a dangerous confession.
A shiver ran down your spine. The air between you turned dense, suffocating.
"Roman, you're in my house. You're my stepsister's boyfriend," you stated in a firm whisper, trying to set a boundary, but you were trapped when he took the final step.
Roman placed the palm of his right hand on the counter, right beside your hip, subtly cornering you against the cabinet. You could smell his cologne mixed with the scent of the night, feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, and see the tension in his shoulders.
"I know exactly who I am and where I am, Y/n," he murmured, leaning in just a few inches, enough for his breath to brush your cheek. "And I also know how you looked at me at dinner. How you looked at me after handing me the salt."
"You were the one who—"
"Yeah, it was me," he interrupted gently, those dark eyes holding yours without a single blink. "And I'm not apologizing for it."
His other hand rose slowly, grazing the wood of the counter until the tip of his index finger touched the cold glass of your water, merely millimeters from your own fingers.
"Now tell me... did you really come down just for water, or could you not stop thinking about what happened in the kitchen either?"
You shook your head quickly, taking a step back until you pressed fully against the counter. Your cheeks burned, and your heart was pounding in your throat.
"No. I just came down for water," you said hastily, putting the glass down with a sudden thud. "I'm going to sleep. It's late."
You slipped through the only open space between him and the counter, passing by him without looking at him directly. Roman didn't try to grab you; he just turned slowly to watch you hurry up the stairs, careful not to make any step creak so as not to wake Vanessa or your parents.
You reached your room, stepped inside, and just as you were about to push the door shut, a strong hand braced against the wooden frame, stopping it mid-air.
Roman slipped into your room with a silent agility that left you frozen. Before you could process it, he pushed the door closed behind him until you heard the subtle click of the lock engaging.
"What are you doing?" you demanded in a desperate whisper, spinning around to face him with wide eyes. "Roman, get out of here. If Vanessa wakes up and sees you in my room..."
"Vanessa is sound asleep, she won't notice a thing," he answered with absolute calm, taking a long step that closed the distance between you.
Your eyes darted to the lock, then back to him.
"You're crazy! You can't be in here."
Roman took a slow look around the room: your desk, your neatly organized things, the nightstand lamp glowing dimly, and finally, his gaze landed on your unmade bed. A small, crooked smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"I have to admit something..." he murmured, taking another step toward you, forcing you to back up until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. "The room over there isn't comfortable at all. But I have a feeling I’d enjoy being in this bed a whole lot more."
The tone of his voice, dripping with such blatant double meaning, made you hold your breath.
"Roman..." you warned, trying to sound firm, though your voice betrayed a slight tremor.
"What? I'm just saying the company in this room promises to be much more interesting," he said in a quiet voice, tilting his head slightly. "Your sister spent the entire night talking about herself, but you... you seem to have much more entertaining secrets to uncover."
He took the final step, standing so close you could feel the warmth radiating from his chest. Unhurriedly, he raised his hand and, with his fingertips, brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, lightly skimming the skin of your temple.
"Tell me I'm wrong and I'll leave," he whispered near your ear, his deep voice giving you goosebumps. "Tell me you didn't feel a thing downstairs and I'll go back to the other room to pretend I'm the perfect boyfriend."
You froze. The words caught in your throat, and you couldn't utter a single refusal.
The proximity was overwhelming. In the dim light of the nightstand lamp, you could clearly see the outline of his torso under his fitted t-shirt, highlighting his defined muscles with every breath. He was undeniably attractive, and that mix of danger, taboo, and sheer boldness was igniting an electric spark in your core that you tried in vain to ignore. You felt a warm throb between your legs, an inevitable slickness that completely betrayed any attempt at self-control.
Your silence in the dark room said everything.
Roman noticed. His gaze dropped for a second to your throat, watching your pulse race, before fixing directly on your lips, which remained slightly parted.
A slow, satisfied smirk spread across his face. He knew he had won.
Without giving you time to react or regret it, Roman closed the last bit of distance between you. His left hand rose firmly to the nape of your neck, tilting your face up, while his other hand settled on your waist to pull you against his body.
He tilted his head and kissed you.
The initial contact was a warm, deliberate brush that took your breath away completely, but it quickly escalated into a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue sought yours with a desperation that made you stifle a soft moan against his mouth—a muffled sound he instantly devoured as he pressed you further against the edge of the bed.
You could feel the strength of his arms holding you, the overwhelming heat of his chest against yours, and the rapid pace of his breathing mixing with yours in the dark. All the tension built up during dinner, the fleeting touches in the kitchen, and the coldness of the house vanished under the instant fire of his mouth on yours.
You could feel the hardness of his body pressing against your thigh. His hands slid down from your waist to your hips, gripping your flesh with a possessiveness that made your back arch.
"I knew you couldn't resist, Y/n... I was devouring you with my eyes all night," he whispered against your lips, his voice a low, raspy growl that vibrated straight through your chest.
Without breaking eye contact, his hand slid under the fabric of your clothes, seeking the heat of your skin, while his other hand remained tangled in your hair, forcing you to maintain that sinful connection.
Roman dipped his hand further, burying his fingers beneath the thin fabric of your panties. Direct contact with your warm skin made you shudder, and although your body responded with intense desire, your mind tried to cling to the last shred of morality you had left.
"No... Roman, you shouldn't... she's sleeping in the room right next door," you managed to articulate, though your voice sounded more like a plea than a real prohibition.
He let out a low chuckle as he guided you gently down onto the mattress, leaning over you. His fingers began to play with your moisture, exploring the sensitive area between your legs with an almost cruel skill.
"You can keep denying it all you want, gorgeous," he whispered, lowering his voice as he felt how soaked you were for him. "But your body doesn't know how to lie... you're dripping for me."
You tried to bite your lip to stifle the noise, but every circular motion of his fingers against your clitoris forced muffled moans from your throat. Roman seemed to thrive on your internal struggle; his teasing smirk deepened as he watched you lose control.
"Shh... we don't want to wake anyone up, do we?" he whispered maliciously, joining his lips with yours again to silence any trace of your pleasure.
As he devoured your mouth, you felt the pressure of his length pressing hard against your thigh. He was impossibly hard, throbbing against you, the friction of his body only served to drive the wetness between your legs wild. You gave him a gentle push, pulling his hand out from beneath your clothes, but the sensation of his fingers on you still lingered.
"Let me do this..." you murmured with a strained voice, abandoning all shame as your hands moved with determination toward the waistband of his pants.
Roman let out a raspy, deep laugh, settling back on the bed with an expression of pure triumph as his dark eyes watched you. "Well, looks like the little saint is in a rush," he teased, but his breathing turned erratic as you slid his underwear down, exposing his erect, throbbing shaft to your eyes.
You leaned forward, wrapping your wet lips around his girth. At first, you were gentle, leaving soft, damp kisses, but need took over and you began to suck, swirling your tongue around him. Roman let out a heavy growl, his breathing growing ragged, and unable to contain himself, he began to push his hips toward your mouth.
"Fuck, Y/n... just like that..." he gasped, losing his composure as he pushed deeper into you.
The movement was so deep you felt like there was no room to breathe; the taste of his cock filling your throat triggered a slight gag reflex. An involuntary tear slipped down your cheek, but far from stopping, he took a firm hold of your hair, enjoying the sensation of having you completely submitted to his pleasure.
You felt him grow even slicker under your tongue as pre-cum began to bead, coating your lips with his salty taste.
"Enough playing around, get on top... I want to watch you move on me," Roman commanded in a raspy voice, using his hands on your waist to guide you up and position you over him.
Your hands moved quickly to your pants, stripping them off along with your panties, your movements trembling as you slid them down your legs. Roman's gaze didn't leave you for a single second, taking in your trembling movements with a victorious smile.
With his help, you straddled him. His hand helped align his tip at your entrance, slowly forcing you down. You could feel his girth stretching you open—an overwhelming sense of fullness that filled your walls with an intensity that was almost painful, yet deliciously addictive. The heat of him entering you was like liquid fire, filling you completely and drawing a shaky sigh from your chest.
Once you sank all the way down, you felt the impact deep in your core. Roman didn't let you rest; he began pushing his hips upward with force, his pelvis impacting against yours in sharp, powerful thrusts that forced you up and down in a frantic rhythm, making you lose all sense of reality. The constant friction of your bodies made the bed creak beneath you—a sound that felt deafening in the quiet house. Your breaths were erratic and heavy as you struggled not to let out cries that would betray your sin.
"You're a dirty bitch, it's as if you've completely forgotten that I'm your stepsister's boyfriend." Roman whispered in your ear, his voice a dirty caress that made you shiver. He lowered his head and began sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck, marking you with possessive intensity.
"God... Roman... please, shut up..." you managed to pant, gripping his shoulders tightly as he nipped at your neck, leaving a hickey that would serve as a constant reminder of the secret you now shared in the dark.
When your movements began to falter, he suddenly pulled you away to look you in the eyes. "Get off of me right now, gorgeous," Roman commanded in a voice that left no room for argument. His hands gripped you firmly, forcing you off his lap and leaving you naked and vulnerable on the mattress. Without giving you a moment to breathe, he pushed you toward the edge of the bed, forcing you onto your hands and knees in a doggystyle position, your rear elevated and exposed to his greedy gaze.
He stood up, positioning himself right behind you. You could feel the heat radiating from his body and the tip of his length brushing against your entrance, preparing you for the impact.
"Stay like that, I want to see what you look like when I take you from behind," he whispered, his hands digging into your hips to brace you.
Roman thrust into you with renewed intensity, his hips slamming against yours with a force that made you lose your balance. The loud smack of his palm against your rear echoed sharply in the dim room—a sinful sound that made you gasp in a mix of terror and pleasure.
"Roman, stop... the noise! They're going to hear us!" you whispered in desperation, feeling fear mingle with intense arousal.
He ignored you; instead, he tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled it back, forcing your spine to arch as he landed another loud slap. The rhythm grew faster, rougher, entirely reckless. You felt your legs start to tremble uncontrollably as unbearable heat coiled deep in your belly; you were on the verge of an orgasm so intense you felt like you might pass out.
You couldn't hold it in any longer; pleasure was a dark wave pulling you under as your muscles contracted in violent spasms. You let out a muffled groan, burying your face into the pillow as your climax wrecked you completely, leaving your legs utterly useless.
Just as you felt him reach his limit, he pulled out of you with a sudden movement and positioned himself over your back, digging his hands into your waist to keep his balance.
You felt the hot, thick impact of his ejaculation coating the skin of your back—a burning contrast that made you shudder. He collapsed over you, breathing heavily, as the silence of the night reclaimed the room, leaving you alone with the echo of your sin.
The transition between the climax and the cold reality of the night air created a brutal contrast. The tension shifted immediately from erotic charge to sharp, imminent paranoia.
The weight of his body on yours lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Roman took a couple of ragged breaths to catch his wind, feeling the frantic beat of his chest against your back before slowly sitting up. The burning warmth on your back began to cool against the faint breeze from the window, serving as an indelible, physical reminder of what had just happened.
Beside you, the gloom of the room suddenly felt darker, heavier.
Roman didn't say anything right away. He ran a hand through his messy hair, tilting his head back as he breathed through his mouth. For a moment, the flawless facade he had maintained all afternoon was gone: he was there, vulnerable, sweaty, and warm-skinned, lying beside his girlfriend's stepsister.
He turned toward you and reached out, grabbing the sheet from the edge of the bed to cover your back with an unexpected touch of gentleness. His thumb grazed the curve of your hip one last time—a lazy caress that shook you to your core.
"You need to clean yourself up before it dries," he murmured, his voice still raspy, leaning in to press a firm, warm kiss onto your bare shoulder.
You turned slightly to look at him. In the dark, the silhouette of his face observed you with an almost unsettling calm. There was no guilt in his eyes, not a single trace of regret for crossing the line. On the contrary; there was a spark of absolute satisfaction, as if from the very first minute he stepped into the house, he knew this was the only possible outcome.
"Roman... you have to leave now," you whispered, trying to summon your voice while your heart pounded against your chest with renewed force, this time from the panic of getting caught.
He smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed to pick up his pants from the floor.
"Relax. I'm not staying the night here... even though I really want to," he said in a thread of a voice, standing up. He fixed his clothes unhurriedly, as if he were in his own home.
He walked with silent steps toward the door. Before unlocking the bolt, he turned to look at you one last time. The faint streetlamp light filtering through the curtains illuminated half of his face.
"Goodnight, Y/n," he said your name with that slow, dangerous pause that made your blood run cold. "I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow."
The click of the lock sounded muffled in the night. The door opened a couple of inches, he slipped into the shadowed hallway, and pulled it shut without making a sound.
You were left alone in bed, your heart in your throat, your skin still marked by his touch, listening to the dull echo of his footsteps returning to Vanessa's room.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀
The morning sun streamed brightly through the dining room windows, illuminating an absurdly mundane scene.
At the table, Roman was sitting next to Vanessa. He wore a clean shirt, his hair was neatly styled, and he wore the exact same polite smile he had arrived with the previous evening. He chatted calmly with your stepfather about the weather and the news, eating with complete composure.
Vanessa was glued to his side, laughing at his every comment and pouring him coffee as if he were the center of her universe.
You were sitting on the opposite side of the table. Throughout breakfast, the unwritten rule was clear: ignore each other completely. You didn't exchange a single word. Roman didn't look at you directly—not even once—acting as if you were a ghost or simply another piece of furniture in the house. To anyone watching, it looked like the normal distance between two strangers who had nothing in common. But beneath the table, the coldness of his demeanor only made the memory of his hands, his mouth, and his grunts in your ear burn stronger in your mind.
Tired of the crushing weight in your chest, you stood up with your empty plate and walked into the kitchen.
Your mother had her back turned, standing by the stove, pouring a second pot of coffee. Hearing you enter, she turned around with a tired smile.
"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" she asked, setting the pot on the counter.
"Kind of..." you muttered, placing your plate in the sink.
Your mom looked at you closely for a second, tilting her head with a curious expression.
"Hey... by any chance, did you hear any strange noises in the middle of the night?" she asked in a whisper, stepping a bit closer so they wouldn't hear her in the dining room. "Around two in the morning... I thought I heard footsteps in the hallway and some whispering. I thought maybe it came from Vanessa's room... you know, with that boy staying over."
Your heart took a violent leap against your ribs. You felt the air catch in your throat, but you forced your face to remain composed, grabbing a glass from the cupboard to turn your back for a second.
"No, Mom, I didn't hear anything," you answered in the most neutral voice you could muster. "You probably just imagined it... or it was the wind against the windows."
"Mm, yeah, it was probably that. Either way, I didn't want to get up to check," your mom sighed, brushing it off as she grabbed the coffee pot to head back to the dining room.
You were left alone in the kitchen for a moment, resting your hands on the edge of the sink as you let out the breath you had been holding. Your pulse was a total mess.
A few minutes later, the moment to say goodbye arrived in the foyer.
Roman had his backpack slung over his shoulder. Vanessa was wrapped around his waist, planting short kisses on his cheek and asking him to text her the second he got home. Your parents stood to the side, saying goodbye warmly and telling him the door was always open for him.
You stood at the end of the hallway, a few feet away, keeping your distance.
"Thank you so much for everything, really. Dinner was delicious, and you made me feel right at home," Roman said in that flawless voice, shaking your stepfather's hand and giving your mom a polite hug.
Finally, Roman turned toward the front door. Vanessa took his hand to walk him out, but right before crossing the threshold, Roman paused for a second.
He turned slightly toward where you were standing.
For the first time all morning, his dark eyes locked straight onto yours. There was no smile, no guilt, no regret. Just an intense look, heavy with a shared secret that instantly gave you chills. With an almost imperceptible gesture—a millimeter tilt of his head—he said goodbye to you in silence.
"See you soon," he said aloud, addressing the family in general, but keeping his eyes fixed on you.
He turned around and walked out the door. Vanessa closed it behind him with an infatuated smile, completely blind to the time bomb that had just been planted in that house.
