Floating by the River

Julian rinsed the mug three times.

Twice wasn't enough. Four felt indulgent.

He set it on the drying rack--handle at a clean right angle to the edge of the counter--and wiped a stray drop of water from the sink lip with the side of his thumb. His checklist for the morning sat folded under a magnet on the fridge: six items, all ticked off. He added "wipe sink," then immediately crossed it out.

The apartment was quiet. He preferred it that way. No music, no TV. The hum of the refrigerator, the tick of the hallway clock--those were acceptable. Predictable.

The blinds stayed shut. Morning light slipped in anyway, cutting hard lines across the floor. Julian stepped carefully between them as he moved to the door.

Bag packed. Keys in the bowl. Thermos lid tightened with three deliberate turns.

He checked the lock. Then checked it again.

Paused.

The silence was deeper than usual today. Not quite heavy, but close. Like walking into a room where someone had just left. Or was about to arrive.

Julian stood still for a beat, staring at the blank white wall across from the door. He didn't know why.

Then he shook his head, adjusted the strap on his shoulder, and stepped outside.

The door clicked shut behind him like the punctuation at the end of a thought he hadn't meant to have.

---

Chapter 1

Julian hadn't wanted a roommate.

He'd fought for the single. Pulled strings with the department, sent pleading emails to Housing. He needed solitude to work, to think, to keep his routines unbroken. It was his second year of the master's program--the year things were supposed to get serious. Comprehensive exams, committee meetings, the start of his thesis. He couldn't afford distractions.

But the budget had cracked, the university shrugged, and now he was stuck splitting a two-bedroom in one of the older grad housing buildings just off campus. He tried to make the best of it. Cleaned obsessively. Rearranged the furniture to carve out corners of control. He left polite little notes on the fridge before anyone had even moved in.

And then River arrived.

He showed up barefoot and tan, carrying a battered duffel and a guitar case, like he'd wandered off the set of a cult documentary. No car, no parents, no awkward small talk. Just a soft knock on the door, and then there he was: loose linen shirt (unbuttoned), drawstring pants, rings on two fingers, a pendant swinging low between his collarbones. He looked like he belonged somewhere humid and slow-moving.

His voice was warm, mellow, a little hoarse--like it had just woken up from a long nap and wasn't planning on doing much else today.

"Hey, man," he said, grinning like Julian was someone he recognized. "Julian, right? I'm River. Thanks for letting me crash."

Julian hadn't technically had a choice. But he still nodded, stuck out a hand.

River ignored it. Pulled him into a hug instead. Bare skin, warm and a little damp, pressed against Julian's stiff button-down. River smelled faintly of sage and something floral and acidic beneath it.

"Vibe feels good in here," River murmured against his ear. "Think this'll be homey."

Julian said nothing. Just stood there, arms at his sides, and tried not to look at the thin trail of hair vanishing into River's waistband.

---

River's room slowly became a presence in the apartment.

Incense. Hazy droning music. The faint smell of sandalwood and... something sweet. Something chemical. Julian couldn't identify it. Couldn't stop breathing it in. At night it crept under his door, curling like fog around the edges of his thoughts.

"I sleep best with the window open," River had explained. "Helps the air move, you know?"

Julian didn't know. But he didn't argue.

---

Chapter 2

At first, Julian found River insufferable.

It wasn't just the incense or the shirtlessness or the strange, droning playlists that never seemed to end. It was the way River *floated* through the apartment, untethered by the usual expectations. Dishes left in the sink. Towels on the floor. The toilet paper roll never replaced. Julian tried to stay calm, tried to lead by example. He typed up a shared chore chart, printed it in color, even laminated it.

River tacked it to the fridge with a smile and a seashell-shaped magnet. "Nice one, man. Super clear. Love the font."

Nothing changed.

Julian tried addressing it directly.

"Hey, could you maybe not leave your shoes on the couch?"

"Totally," River said, without looking up from his book. "Thanks for the heads-up."

The next day: the same scuffed sandals, resting comfortably on the throw pillows.

Julian started clenching his jaw. Started counting to ten. Started cleaning things himself just to make the space livable. At least *his* bedroom stayed pristine. A final bastion of order. A retreat.

But every time he emerged--tense, brittle, holding a sponge or a trash bag--River would flash him that serene, sleepy smile.

"You're a legend, Jules. Seriously, thank you."

Or worse:

"You're like, the heartbeat of this place. I'd be lost without you."

He said it with such earnest calm, such effortless gratitude, that Julian could never quite summon the anger he thought he should. It was like trying to yell at a warm bath. Nothing stuck. Nothing escalated. His fury slid right off River's soft, glowing skin and evaporated into the incense haze.

Eventually, Julian gave up. He stopped printing chore charts. Stopped asking. He took the trash out on Tuesdays, wiped the counters every night, changed the toilet paper roll without comment.

River always thanked him. Politely. Softly.

As if Julian were doing it out of love.

---

Chapter 3

Julian couldn't help but notice that River almost never studied.

At first, he tried to be charitable. Maybe River was in a lighter program. Maybe his classes hadn't picked up yet. But as the weeks wore on, it became impossible to ignore. While Julian was up at dawn outlining lectures or hunched over dense readings, River was still in bed--half-naked, limbs flung wide like a starfish, soft morning light catching on his collarbone. Sometimes he'd wander out around noon, rubbing his eyes, yawning, smiling like he had all the time in the world.

He lazed around the apartment like it belonged to him. Played music out loud, sprawled on the floor doing stretches, wandered the kitchen barefoot. He left forgotten cups of tea in every room. And he always seemed to have someone over--a friend from "this art thing," a guy he used to live with in Portland, a woman who painted tiny planets on glass and called Julian "sweetheart" the first time they met.

It all should have driven Julian up the wall.

Sometimes it did. He'd start to say something--a sharp little complaint halfway out of his mouth.

"Hey, would you mind keeping it down? I'm trying to concentrate."

But River would just look up, lazy and loose-limbed, and say something like,

"You're so chill, Jules. Always locked in, doing your thing. I admire that."

Or,

"You have the *best* focus. It's like, inspiring to be around."

And Julian's irritation would falter. The compliment never felt cloying. It felt... smooth. Like River was pouring warm water directly over his nerves.

He should have been furious. He *was* furious. But then River would press a hand to his shoulder, just for a second--and smile--and the heat would drain out of him. Not gone, exactly. Just muted. Softened. Repackaged into something he couldn't quite hold onto.

Somehow, he didn't mind as much as he should.

---

Chapter 4

It was past midnight. Julian lay flat on his back, eyes open, jaw clenched.

The guitar again. Soft, yes, but constant. River wasn't strumming, exactly--more like plucking slowly, deliberately, letting each note linger too long in the still apartment air. The same pattern over and over, looping like a lullaby written by someone who didn't understand what lullabies were for.

Julian threw the covers back and swung his legs out of bed.

He padded barefoot down the hall, past the kitchen with its pile of unwashed mugs, and paused outside River's half-open door. Warm lamplight spilled out across the floor. River was reclined against a mound of pillows, guitar across his lap, shirtless as always. Eyes half-lidded. Fingers slow and loose.

Julian knocked once. Sharp. More of a warning than a greeting.

River looked up and smiled.

"Hey, man. You up?"

Julian exhaled hard. "It's almost one. I have a seminar at eight. Could you... maybe not do this right now?"

River blinked at him like a sleepy animal. Then: "Shit, I didn't realize the sound carried that much. My bad. You okay? You seem... tight."

Julian bristled. "I'm *fine.* Just tired."

River set the guitar aside. "Totally get that. Long day?"

Julian hesitated. Why was he still standing here? "Yeah."

River patted the empty side of the bed. "Come here a sec. Lemme help."

Julian frowned. "Help what?"

"Help you sleep. Just a thing I do sometimes. Nothing weird. I promise."

There was something in his voice--not persuasive, exactly. Just... soft. Certain. Like he already knew Julian would say yes.

Julian hovered for another beat. Then stepped inside.

---

Chapter 5

The air in River's room was thick--not oppressive, exactly. Just warm. Saturated. Like stepping into a bath that had been waiting for you. Something sweet clung to the back of Julian's throat. Not incense, not exactly. Closer to the smell of overripe fruit, or a flower crushed between pages of an old book.

Soft music played from somewhere--no speakers Julian could see, just a faint ambient loop, tones rising and falling like breath. It wasn't melodic. Just... soothing. Too soothing. The kind of sound that wrapped around thought and squeezed gently until it softened.

River sat cross-legged on the bed, his hands open in his lap. "Lie back," he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Julian hesitated, then sank down onto the edge of the bed, then back onto the pillows. They smelled like something herbal. Something musky. He blinked up at the ceiling, his heart still ticking fast.

"Just close your eyes," River said, voice low and velvety. It was the kind of voice that made you think of fluffed pillows, soft fleece, arms around your shoulders.

Julian closed his eyes.

"Breathe in," River murmured. "Slow. Like you're sipping something hot."

Julian did. The air moved thickly through him.

"Now let it go. Let it melt. You're doing great."

Julian felt his limbs go heavy. Something in his chest loosened. River kept talking, his voice barely more than a hum now, dipping in and out of the music. Words strung together in gentle nonsense:

"Let the day fall out of you. Let it slip through the floor. No tension here. No pressure. No edges..."

The words washed over him. Not commands, exactly. Not questions. Just the suggestion of a world where nothing was urgent. Nothing required effort.

Julian drifted.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small part of him tugged upward--a glimmer of awareness, a sense that something was *off*. But it passed.

River's voice returned, softer than before.

"That's it. Just let go. You don't have to think. I'll think for you."

Julian exhaled. His fingers twitched. Then stilled.

He didn't remember falling asleep.

---

Chapter 6

Julian dreamt he was floating.

Not flying, not swimming--just hovering gently in warm darkness. Weightless. Cradled. Something soft brushed against his skin, like silk ribbons drifting past. The air was thick with a scent he couldn't name, lush and sticky-sweet. It made his chest feel light. His head, even lighter.

And then there was the voice.

Low. Velvety. Too close to be coming from anywhere else but *inside* him. It wasn't speaking words, not at first--just a hum, rising and falling in rhythm with his breath. Then came fragments, curling through the haze like smoke:

"You don't need to try so hard..."

"Let it melt..."

"Let me in..."

Each syllable brushed over him like fingertips. He didn't know what he was saying yes to, but he felt himself nodding in the dream. Felt the warmth between his legs coil tighter, pressure blooming low in his belly. The voice slid around his body like a blanket being drawn slowly up to his chin.

"So good like this... so soft..."

Julian moaned in his sleep.

---

He woke with a sharp inhale.

Early light filtered through the blinds. His room was still. Cool. Familiar. He blinked a few times, heart thudding softly.

Then he felt it. The ache between his legs. The unmistakable fullness. He was hard. Really hard. His boxers were tented, damp at the tip. He shifted under the covers, breath catching at the friction.

For a moment, he just lay there. Boneless. Warm. His whole body thrummed with that strange residual calm--a pleasure-soaked quiet like he'd just come down from something, even though he hadn't come at all.

He couldn't quite remember the dream. Just the voice.

And the way it made him feel.

---

Chapter 7

Julian drifted out of his room in a daze, the dream still clinging to the corners of his mind like steam on a bathroom mirror.

The apartment was quiet, sun pooling softly across the hardwood. And there--for once--River was already up.

He stood barefoot in the kitchen, shirtless as usual, a mug in each hand. The faint sound of something ambient drifted from the living room--low and pulsing, almost subliminal.

When River saw him, he smiled. Slow. Mysterious. Like he knew something Julian didn't.

"Morning, sunshine," he murmured. "Coffee?"

Julian blinked, still not entirely sure he was awake. He nodded.

River handed him the mug. Their fingers brushed. Julian's skin tingled where they touched.

He took a sip automatically. It was perfect--just the way he liked it, though he was sure he'd never told River how.

Julian leaned against the counter, trying to gather himself. His cock was still half-hard in his boxers, twitching faintly every time River moved. He shifted, hoping it wasn't visible.

He cleared his throat. "You're up early today."

River shrugged, that same knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Felt like waking up with the sun," he said. "It's nice, right? Quiet. Clear."

Julian nodded. Took another sip. The warmth of the coffee pooled low in his stomach. The smell of River--that same faint sweetness, something herbal and wild--was thick in the air.

He felt... floaty. A little unmoored. Like he was still dreaming. Like River hadn't quite let him go yet.

It was a pleasant feeling.

---

Chapter 8

Julian lingered in the kitchen, cradling the coffee between both hands like it was the only thing tethering him to the world.

River leaned back against the counter, still sipping his own. The golden light made his skin look almost luminous.

Julian hesitated, then glanced over. "Hey, um... last night. Did I... fall asleep in your room?"

River tilted his head slightly. "Yeah. You were wiped. I figured you needed it."

Julian frowned. There was more. He remembered the warmth, the voice, the way his body had melted. The way he'd felt *touched*, even though he couldn't say by what.

"Did we... do something?" he asked softly, brows knitting.

River's smile didn't waver. He said something--a few slow words, low and silken, threading into the air like the start of a spell.

Julian blinked.

His eyes glazed over for just a moment. The sound blurred into something abstract, like the end of a dream you can't quite catch. A soft hum of meaning without shape.

He blinked again, then refocused. His body had gone loose, warm. His cock throbbed gently in his shorts, half-forgotten but very much there.

Whatever River had said... it didn't really matter, did it?

He was feeling good. Relaxed. Well-rested for the first time in weeks. That was what mattered.

Julian looked up and smiled--a real, gentle, grateful smile.

"Thanks," he said quietly, voice thick with sincerity. "I needed that."

River reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

Julian's cock twitched in approval.

---

Chapter 9

Julian slung his bag over his shoulder, still a little dazed but no longer tired. The morning light streamed across the floor as he headed for the door.

River was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that same calm smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Go crush that seminar," he said, voice warm and velvet-smooth. It sounded like a joke, almost--but also like a blessing.

Julian paused, blinked at him. Then nodded.

"Yeah. Okay."

---

The day unfolded like a dream.

Julian breezed through his morning lecture, his answers crisp, his thoughts clear. When a professor called on him unexpectedly, he didn't freeze. He just spoke. Smooth. Confident. As if someone had already laid the answer out in his head.

His hand didn't shake when he sipped his coffee. He wasn't grinding his teeth. Even the air felt different--lighter somehow. Softer. Like the whole world had shifted just enough to make space for him.

In the seminar, he gave a comment that made the room fall quiet for a second before someone said, "That's actually... kind of brilliant."

By the end of the day, Julian felt incredible. Light. Energized. Like he'd just come from a massage, or a long swim.

He smiled to himself as he walked home, the late afternoon sun catching in his hair.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good.

He didn't even notice how hard he was.

---

Chapter 10

When Julian got home, the apartment was still hazy with warmth. The late sun spilled in, golden rays slicing over the windowsills.

River was splayed on the couch, bare-chested, feet propped up on the armrest, one hand behind his head. He looked like he hadn't moved all day. The coffee table was a mess of used mugs, half-eaten fruit, and a crumpled napkin with something drawn on it in blue ink--a spiral, maybe. Or just River doodling.

Julian blinked at the mess. He opened his mouth - perhaps to protest. And then, just as quickly, blinked again, feeling the annoyance fade. He decided he was feeling charitable. Forgiving. Just this once. Besides, it would be such a shame to ruin his good mood...

"Hey," he said instead, smiling gently.

River looked up, eyes warm and lidded. "Hey, star pupil. You crushed it, didn't you?"

Julian laughed, setting down his bag. "I kind of did."

He moved automatically toward the kitchen. Picked up the mugs. Began rinsing them one by one, the hum of satisfaction still glowing in his chest. His cock stirred faintly again, as if stirred by the rhythm of his movements.

Behind him, River stretched and yawned.

"You're seriously the best, Jules. You just keep this whole place humming."

Julian flushed, pleased. It felt good to be appreciated so sincerely.

He wiped the counter with a damp cloth. The scent of River's skin hung in the air--sweat, herbs, something more earthy underneath. Julian found it comforting. Familiar.

He caught himself humming along to the ambient music drifting from River's speaker, unaware it was the same melody he'd fallen asleep to the night before.

Everything felt exactly as it should.

---

Chapter 11

That night, for the first time in weeks, Julian found himself with nothing to do.

No assignments looming. No unread articles or early-morning prep. Just an open evening. It felt strange. Luxurious, almost. He decided--tentatively--it was a good feeling.

He lingered in the doorway of the living room, towel-drying his hair from a shower, wearing soft sweats and a threadbare T-shirt that smelled faintly of River's detergent.

River looked up from the couch, where he'd been idly thumbing through a book upside down. The room was dim, lit by a cluster of candles that flickered lazily on the coffee table.

"Hey," River said, voice slow and warm. "You free tonight?"

Julian blinked. "I guess I am."

River patted the cushion beside him. "Come hang out. Just chill for a bit. You earned it."

Julian hesitated for a second--should he really be slacking off? But a moment later, he walked over and sank down beside him. A single night off couldn't hurt...

River's body was radiating heat. He smelled faintly of smoke and soap and whatever he'd cooked earlier. Something spicy.

Julian leaned back into the cushions, feeling their warmth seep into him. His body still hummed with that same strange, dreamy energy. A low, pleasant ache in his belly. A flicker of arousal he didn't feel the need to name.

He exhaled slowly.

"This is nice," he murmured.

River smiled. "Yeah," he said. "It really is."

---

Chapter 12

They sat together on the couch, a half-watched episode of Seinfeld playing quietly on the TV. The laugh track rose and fell, punctuating the space between them with bursts of absurdity. Julian found himself actually laughing. Not the polite chuckle he usually offered TV comedies, but real laughter--loose, surprised, unfiltered.

River chuckled beside him, legs stretched out, bare feet brushing the edge of the coffee table. He hadn't changed after his long day of lazing; his body was still slick with the faint sheen of sweat, his scent thick in the warm air between them.

Julian caught a breath of it--musk, salt, the soft fermentation of skin left to marinate. It should have made him recoil.

Instead, he breathed deeper.

It wasn't just tolerable. It was... grounding. Intimate. Like smelling someone you trusted, someone you wanted close. He shifted slightly on the cushion. Then again. Scooching closer. Not quite touching, but enough to feel the warmth rolling off River's bare chest like a space heater.

River turned to look at him. Gave him a slow, knowing smirk.

Julian flushed, but didn't move away.

He just smiled back. Let the scent fill him up - heady, intoxicating, therapeutic.

And laughed again when Kramer burst into the room onscreen like he'd never seen it before.

---

For a while, they just sat there.

Julian had melted into River's side, snuggled against the solid warmth of him. River's arm wrapped around his shoulders--effortless, natural, like it had always belonged there. Julian's head rested just beneath River's collarbone, where he could breathe in that deep, earthy musk with every slow inhale.

The TV droned on, mostly forgotten. Julian wasn't really following anymore. He wasn't fully present.

He just felt good. Warm. Safe. The kind of soft, pleasant daze where you stop needing to ask why anything is happening.

River's hand moved slowly, thumb brushing faint circles along Julian's upper arm. At some point, he began murmuring. That voice again. Low. Silky. Velvet with a dark, warm weight.

Julian barely registered the words. They weren't for thinking. They were for feeling. The velvet tones slipped through his ears, right past his surface thoughts, into somewhere deep within.

"That's it... breathe deep... all that tension melting out of you..."

"No rush, no pressure... just soft, quiet space..."

The sound curled around Julian like smoke. His breath deepened. His lips parted.

His cock began to thicken again beneath the blanket draped over his lap--heavy now, pulsing faintly. He didn't even reach for it. He just let it happen.

Let the voice fill him.

Let himself drift.

---

Julian drifted off without meaning to.

One moment he was nestled into River's warmth, letting that velvet voice wash over him like a lullaby. The next, he was floating again--deep inside another dream.

It was warmer this time. Thicker. The world around him was soft and pulsing, like the inside of a mouth. He couldn't see anything clearly, but he could feel.

Hands, maybe. Lips, maybe. A voice whispering just behind his ear, curling around his spine like smoke.

"So soft for me... so good like this..."

Pressure coiled low in his belly. The heat between his legs grew slick, insistent, dreamy. He moaned, hips twitching. He felt himself tip forward, falling into something bright, something *wet*...

And then he was waking.

Soft morning light. A blanket halfway kicked off. River gone. The couch warm beside him but empty.

Julian blinked up at the ceiling, blinking slowly. His heart was calm. His breathing deep. He felt amazing.

Then he noticed the damp.

His boxers were soaked. A dark, sticky patch spread across the front. He flushed, blinking again. His cock twitched once, sensitive and sated.

He sat up slowly, touched the fabric. Still warm.

For a second, embarrassment bubbled up.

But then he smiled. Small. Almost shy.

He didn't really mind.

He felt... good.

---

Chapter 13

It was Saturday.

Normally, Julian would have been up by seven, coffee brewed, bag packed, headed to the library before the undergrads even rolled out of bed. He had standing goals. Chapter sections to review. Annotated readings to transcribe.

But this morning, the urgency was gone.

He lay sprawled across the couch in the soft morning light, still in his boxers, blanket slipped down around his waist. His limbs were loose. His mind quiet. The air smelled faintly of River's room--that same hazy mix of incense, sweat, and something sweetly herbal.

His hand rested lightly on his cock. He wasn't really jerking off. Not actively. Just... stroking. Gentle. Thoughtless. Like an idle comfort. Just something to keep his hands occupied as he floated.

When River finally emerged from his room--barefoot, yawning, shirtless as always--he paused in the doorway, taking in the scene with an amused glint in his eye.

"Well hey there," he murmured, voice rough with sleep. "Enjoying your weekend?"

Julian looked up, dazed but smiling.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah. I really am."

He didn't even think to cover himself.

River padded into the kitchen, the sound of mugs clinking and water running filling the space. Julian let his head roll to the side. His cock pulsed once beneath his fingertips.

He kept stroking. Slow. Easy.

No need to rush anything.

---

Julian lay still, breath slow, hand moving gently up and down his cock. He wasn't thinking. Not really. Just feeling. Letting the morning wrap around him like a warm blanket.

Somewhere behind him, from the kitchen, came a soft, rhythmic sound. Smacking. Wet. Faint but unmistakable.

Julian's ears caught it. His brain registered it. But it didn't spark any alarm.

If anything, the sound felt like background music. Part of the atmosphere. His cock responded with a lazy throb, and his hand moved just a little faster.

The sensation was soft and floaty. Like sinking slowly into warm sand.

Time slipped.

A while later, River emerged with two mugs. He was grinning, eyes hooded, hair tousled like he'd just woken up--or just come. Maybe both.

He set one of the mugs down beside Julian.

"Extra cream," River said, smirking.

Julian blinked up at him, his dazed smile returning. He let go of his cock long enough to sit up and reach for the mug, hand warm and slightly sticky.

"Thanks," he murmured, not even thinking to ask what kind of cream River meant.

He took a sip.

"Mmm...."

It was perfect.

---

Julian sipped the coffee slowly, letting the warmth slide down his throat and pool in his belly. It was thick, rich, faintly sweet. A hint of the musk that always seemed to drift off River. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

River settled beside him on the couch, their bodies not quite touching. One of his hands rose, slow and deliberate, to stroke gently through Julian's hair.

Julian sighed.

And then River began to speak.

That same voice. Low. Velvety. Liquid-smooth and gentle. The words weren't loud. They weren't urgent. Just steady. Soft. Like they were meant to sneak in through the cracks.

Julian heard them. Let them wash over him. He didn't listen--not the way you listen to conversation or a lecture. It was more like listening to the rain.

His lips started moving. Quietly. Automatically. Echoing River.

He didn't register the words. Didn't question them. They bypassed thought completely, floated from his ears to his tongue without stopping along the way.

His cock stirred again beneath the blanket, already semi-hard.

River kept petting him. Slow. Reassuring. Like he was being a very good boy.

Julian smiled softly, still reciting. Still unaware.

---

Chapter 14

River's fingers moved slowly through Julian's hair, tracing idle paths against his scalp. His voice kept flowing--soft, endless, smooth as warm oil.

Julian was barely aware of himself now. He sipped from the mug occasionally, let it rest in his lap when he forgot it was there. His lips continued moving, mumbling gentle echoes of River's words.

"Relaxed... safe... soft and good..."

River's hand paused for just a second.

Then, casually, nestled inside a stream of velvet phrasing, he added something new:

"Touch yourself now, baby. Just like that. Don't even think."

Julian obeyed.

Without a flicker of hesitation, his free hand slipped beneath the blanket. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and resumed stroking--slow, steady, dreamy.

River smiled.

"Good," he murmured, resuming the strokes through Julian's hair. "You're doing so well. So easy now. So natural."

Julian moaned softly. His hips twitched. His lips never stopped moving.

He didn't know what he was saying.

But it felt good to say it.

---

River's voice didn't waver.

He kept stroking Julian's hair, letting the rhythm of his fingers sync with the gentle pulse of his words.

Julian was so far under now. Soft and pliant, cock twitching under the blanket, hand moving in slow, sleepy strokes. The mug had tilted on his thigh, forgotten, warmth seeping through the fabric.

River leaned in just a little closer, lips brushing near Julian's ear.

"Slide your other hand under your shirt," he whispered. "Touch your chest. Let me feel how good it is."

Julian obeyed instantly.

His free hand slipped upward, lifting the hem of his shirt. His fingertips found his chest, grazing lightly over one nipple.

He shivered.

River smiled. "That's it. Good boy. Let the feeling spread. Let it go deeper."

Julian moaned softly. His hand on his cock slowed, teasing now, each stroke stretching long and lazy. His chest rose with each breath, nipple tingling under his touch.

He didn't know why it felt so good. Just that it did.

River's voice kept going. Lower. Smoother. Deeper.

"Feel how easy this is now. How natural. You don't have to think. You just listen. You just feel."

Julian's lips were still moving, murmuring nothing, eyes half-lidded, body humming.

Pliant. Open. Smiling.

---

River leaned in closer, his breath warm against Julian's cheek.

The hand in Julian's hair slowed, fingers curling just enough to anchor him in place. Julian didn't resist. His eyes fluttered half-shut, lips still moving, breath shaky now as his hand worked slowly over his cock, his other palm teasing his nipple through his shirt.

He was flushed and humming, completely unaware of how exposed he looked.

River smiled against his ear.

"Say it for me," he murmured. "Say, 'I'm your good little toy.'"

Julian let out a soft sound--a whimper, really. His cock twitched. His lips paused for a beat. Then moved again.

"I'm... your good little toy."

He said it gently. Clearly. Without shame.

River groaned, low in his throat.

"That's right," he breathed. "Say it again."

Julian's voice came out a little thicker this time. A little needier.

"I'm your good little toy."

His hips shifted under the blanket. His strokes quickened slightly.

River watched him, eyes dark with delight. The candlelight flickered across Julian's flushed face, his parted lips, the glazed shimmer in his eyes.

He didn't even know what he'd just given away.

And he didn't care.

---

Chapter 15

Julian shifted without thinking.

One slow, dreamy movement at a time, he clambered into River's lap. His limbs felt heavy, but safe. Certain. Like the only thing in the world that made sense was being closer to that heat, that scent, that presence.

He settled against River's bare chest, his cheek pressed to warm skin, arms folding in loosely as if he might stay there forever. River welcomed him without a word, arms curling gently around him, hands finding familiar places on his back, his hip, the base of his skull.

Julian breathed deep. River's scent was overwhelming this close--musky, earthy, subtly sweet. The very smell of surrender.

His cock pulsed harder, thick and needy between their bodies, leaking now into his boxers. He didn't move to touch it. He just *felt.*

River's lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

The whispering began again. Velvet-soft. Meaningless and meaningful all at once.

Julian listened. Let it swirl through him, coil tight around his spine. He felt the voice vibrating in his bones. In his cock. In the deep, warm ache of his belly.

Time stretched.

At some point, his mouth was moving again.

Repeating something.

Something River had said.

He didn't know what it meant.

But the moment he said it, his body shuddered.

His hips twitched. His breath caught. And then he was cumming--hard, hot, helpless--right there in River's lap. His whole body seized with it, then melted, the orgasm rolling over him like a tide.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, breathing soft and slow, cock twitching in the mess.

River kissed his temple.

Julian sighed. Smiling.

---

River lifted Julian with ease.

There was no hesitation, no strain. Just strong arms sliding beneath his knees and shoulders, lifting him as though he weighed nothing at all. Julian gave a soft, contented sigh and let his head rest against River's chest.

The world rocked gently around him. Warm light. The scent of skin and sex. The faint pulse of music still drifting from the living room.

River whispered the whole way down the hall.

"Such a good boy... so soft now... so open..."

"Just let me take care of you... you don't need to think... just melt..."

Julian barely heard the words. They weren't meant to be heard. They were meant to *sink.*

He felt the soft give of his mattress beneath him, cool sheets curling around his thighs. River laid him down gently, lovingly, tucking the blanket up around his chest.

Julian's eyes fluttered.

His belly was still sticky with his own cum, warm and wet beneath his shirt. He didn't care. It felt... comforting.

River stroked his hair back from his forehead, then leaned in close.

"Sleep deep for me," he whispered, voice velvet-thick. "Dream sweet. Let it all soak in."

Julian sighed.

His breathing slowed. His body loosened.

And then he was gone.

Floating again. Wrapped in River's scent. In River's voice.

Smiling in his sleep.

---

Chapter 16

Julian woke slowly, smiling before his eyes even opened.

The sheets clung to his body, warm and soft. His skin was tacky with the now-familiar stickiness across his belly, the head of his cock still sensitive beneath the light fabric of his shorts. But there was no shame. No discomfort.

Just a hum of pleasure, still vibrating faintly through his chest.

He stretched with a satisfied sigh.

He could get used to this.

---

By midmorning, the apartment was sparkling.

Julian moved with a calm, focused rhythm, barefoot and humming to himself. There was a soft tune looping in the back of his mind--something from River's playlist, maybe. He didn't know the words. He didn't need to.

He scrubbed the counters, stacked the dishes, fluffed the pillows on the couch. Everything in its place. Everything just right.

The air smelled of citrus and faint incense.

By the time River emerged from his room--yawning, shirtless, hair mussed--Julian was plating breakfast.

Scrambled eggs, avocado toast, cut fruit arranged with quiet care.

River paused in the kitchen doorway, taking in the gleam of the countertops, the open windows, the soft music playing low from the Bluetooth speaker.

Julian looked up and smiled.

"Morning," he said warmly, wiping his hands on a towel. "Hope you're hungry."

River grinned, eyes glinting.

"Always," he murmured.

Julian felt his cock twitch in his shorts.

---

After setting down the plates, Julian didn't take a seat of his own.

Instead, he climbed quietly into River's lap, straddling his leg, cheek pressed to River's bare chest. The sharp tang of sweat and musk filled his senses--raw and grounding, intimate. Familiar.

River didn't say anything. Just rested one hand on Julian's thigh and began to eat.

Julian sighed contentedly.

He nestled closer, letting the heat of River's body soak into him. His hands stayed folded in his lap, but his hips moved on their own--slow, soft little rocks of pressure, grinding his crotch against the firm muscle of River's thigh.

It wasn't fast or frantic. Just steady. Comforting. Mindless.

The friction made his cock swell in his shorts, already half-hard from the smell and weight of River beneath him.

He moaned once, quietly. Didn't even seem to notice.

River forked a piece of avocado toast into his mouth and chuckled low in his chest.

"Someone's feeling cozy this morning," he murmured.

Julian didn't answer. Just nuzzled closer, breathing deep, his hips still gently moving.

His smile was blissful. Empty.

Content.

---

River set his fork down and brought a hand to Julian's jaw, cupping it with slow, deliberate care.

He tilted Julian's face upward, thumb brushing gently along the curve of his cheek.

Julian's eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused, pupils wide. He looked dazed, blissed, like someone pulled out of a dream too slowly to know he was waking.

River smiled.

"You like serving me, don't you?" he asked softly. His voice was teasing, but there was a dark sweetness underneath--a pull.

Julian blinked. His lips parted.

They moved, slow and clumsy, like he had to remember how words worked.

"Mmhm," he breathed. Then, barely audible: "I like... making things nice for you."

His cheeks flushed faintly. His cock throbbed against River's thigh.

River chuckled, thumb brushing slowly over Julian's bottom lip.

"You really are my perfect little thing," he murmured.

Julian smiled.

He didn't even know he was still rocking his hips.

---

River let his fingers trail downward.

From Julian's jaw, down the side of his neck, tracing lazily over the collar of his shirt, then lower--until his hand slipped beneath the hem and settled on the curve of Julian's ass.

He didn't squeeze. Not exactly. Just cupped it, fingers spreading idly over soft cotton, kneading gently as if to test the weight.

Julian let out a tiny sound. A soft, shivery exhale that barely registered as a moan.

"You like sitting pretty like this, huh?" River murmured.

Julian nodded, face flushed, lips parting again.

"Uh huh," he whispered. "Feels... m'good..."

River gave the round swell of his ass a slow, lazy fondle.

"Bet you'd do anything I asked right now. Isn't that right, pretty boy?"

Julian shivered.

His breath hitched. His hips pressed subtly into River's thigh, cock stiff and leaking again in his shorts.

"Yeah," he breathed, dreamy and dazed. "Anything you want."

River smiled, stroking lower, fingertips teasing along the crease.

"God, you're soft this morning," he murmured. "Might keep you like this all day. Just floaty and hard and mine."

Julian let out a soft whimper, eyes fluttering shut again.

He didn't even know what he was hoping for.

Just that he *was.*

---

Chapter 17

The moment River began to murmur again--that velvet voice dipping low and rich, brushing against the soft folds of Julian's mind--something in Julian responded automatically.

He didn't think. Didn't hesitate.

He slid off River's lap with slow, graceful ease, dropping to his knees between River's parted legs. His hands moved like they knew exactly what to do. He tugged down River's waistband, revealing his thick, half-hard cock, flushed and glistening at the tip.

Julian blinked slowly, lips parting.

He leaned in and began to suck.

Lovingly. Hungrily. Worshipfully.

His mouth wrapped around the head, warm and wet, tongue swirling as he took River in inch by inch. He moaned softly around the shaft, his own cock aching in his shorts, untouched.

River exhaled, one hand dropping to rest in Julian's hair.

"Good boy," he said, voice like honey. "That's it. You know what you need."

Julian moaned again. Sucked deeper.

The words filled his head. The taste filled his mouth. His hips rocked forward, seeking friction that didn't matter. He just wanted to please. To serve. To *belong.*

---

River let his fingers tighten in Julian's hair, slow and possessive.

"Breathe through your nose," he murmured. "There you go. Good boy."

Julian obeyed without pause, sinking lower, letting River's cock glide deeper into his mouth. He relaxed his throat with a soft sigh, welcoming the stretch, the weight, the warmth. His lips sealed around the thick shaft, tongue laving the underside with slow, reverent strokes.

River watched him from above, breath deepening as he guided Julian with gentle pressure, setting the rhythm.

"Nice and easy," River whispered. "Let me feel that soft little throat open up for me."

Julian moaned around the length in his mouth, the vibration making River's cock twitch.

He pulled back slowly, cheeks hollowing as he sucked on the tip, then took him in again--deeper this time. River's hips shifted, helping the motion, his voice never ceasing.

"That's it... just like that... you were made for this, weren't you?"

Julian whimpered, nodding faintly, even as he took River back to the hilt. Spit dribbled from the corners of his mouth, messy and glistening, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. He was lost in the rhythm now, body swaying with each slow thrust.

River let his head tip back, a satisfied groan slipping from his throat.

"Fuck, baby. Look at you. So deep. So obedient. So fucking pretty like this."

Julian moaned again--not from effort, not from discomfort, but from *joy.*

Every praise was a drug. Every inch he took a gift.

He sucked harder, faster, desperate to please. His own cock was throbbing in his shorts, leaking freely. But he didn't touch it.

He didn't need to.

River's voice was enough.

---

River's grip in Julian's hair tightened, just enough to make him feel claimed.

His voice dropped even lower--molasses-smooth, velvet-dark, threading through Julian's head like smoke.

"You feel that, baby? That need building in your throat... in your belly... You want it, don't you?"

Julian whimpered around River's cock, nodding as best he could, his pace quickening. His lips slid faster, wetter, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. He was starving for it. Not just the taste. The *signal.* The moment of release that would make everything perfect.

River moaned low, hips twitching.

"Good boy. Just a little more. Just stay open for me..."

Julian's own cock was a twitching mess in his tight briefs, slick with pre-cum, throbbing at every sound, every movement. His thighs clenched. His breath came ragged through his nose.

And then it happened.

River groaned deep in his chest and came hard down Julian's throat.

Thick pulses of heat flooded his mouth. Julian swallowed without hesitation, like he was programmed to do it. Like it was nourishment.

And the moment the first jet hit his tongue, Julian broke.

His own orgasm ripped through him, untouched, devastating. He cried out softly around River's cock, moaning as his body spasmed, hot cum flooding his briefs, soaking him with a shameful, aching pleasure.

He kept sucking through it, drinking River down, trembling with the bliss of release and obedience, tongue fluttering along the pulsating cock as it spewed, lips milking out the last dregs of cum.

River stroked his hair, breathless but smiling.

"That's my boy," he whispered.

Julian sagged against his thigh, mouth still full, eyes fluttering.

---

River gently lifted Julian from the floor, pulling him back into his lap like a cherished possession. Julian's limbs moved limply, obediently, melting against River's chest with a soft sigh.

Their mouths met.

The kiss was slow. Deep. Possessive. River tasted himself on Julian's tongue and hummed with satisfaction, his hands stroking gently down Julian's back, across his hips, cupping his ass with lazy approval.

Julian kissed back automatically, his lips pliant, wet, worshipful.

When the kiss broke, River leaned in close, nose brushing Julian's temple.

"Such a good boy," he whispered. "So open. So soft. So easy to keep."

Julian shivered, eyes fluttering closed. He breathed in the familiar musk, his own cum cooling against his skin inside his ruined briefs.

"Mine to hold," River whispered. "Mine to use. Mine to fill."

Julian moaned softly. His arms wrapped around River's waist, holding tight.

"Yours," he breathed.

River smiled against his cheek.

"That's it. Let it sink in. You don't have to think anymore. Just be. Just belong."

Julian sighed again, long and slow.

He felt so safe. So cared for. So *kept.*

He never wanted to leave River's lap.

---

Chapter 18

A while later, Julian was still curled lazily in River's lap, half-asleep in the afterglow, body soft and pliant.

That was when he felt it.

River's cock, thickening again beneath him.

The heat pressed against the curve of Julian's ass, firm and eager. The sensation made him stir--not with alarm, but with a deep, blissful contentment. Like remembering something important. Something his body had been waiting for.

River's hands gripped him firmly, possessively.

He stood, lifting Julian without effort, clutching his ass close, carrying him down the hall like something precious and claimed.

Julian rested his head against River's shoulder, dazed and hard, breathing in that familiar, grounding musk that clung to River's skin like a second atmosphere.

When they reached the bedroom, River deposited him gently onto the tangled sheets. The bed was messy--still unmade, still reeking faintly of sweat, sex, incense.

Julian inhaled.

His cock throbbed to life instantly, aching and sticky in his ruined briefs.

River loomed over him, bare-chested, half-hard, eyes dark with satisfaction.

Julian looked up, dazed and smiling, body already melting into the mattress.

He was ready.

---

River crawled onto the bed, slow and deliberate, like a lion savoring the approach. His body hovered over Julian's, radiating heat, eyes heavy-lidded with want and certainty.

Julian lay beneath him, pliant and glowing, cock hard and twitching inside his soaked briefs. His legs parted without being asked, arms stretching up over his head as if offering himself.

River leaned down and kissed him--long, slow, deep. Their tongues tangled, River tasting himself again on Julian's lips. He smiled into the kiss.

"You ready, baby?" he murmured.

Julian nodded against his mouth, breathless. "Please."

River peeled the briefs down, revealing Julian's leaking cock and the mess already painting his thighs. Then he slicked his fingers and pressed one gently inside, watching Julian arch and sigh at the stretch.

"Still so open for me," River whispered. "Still so easy."

Julian moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

River took his time, preparing him carefully, whispering praise with every motion.

"Such a good boy. My boy. So soft. So sweet."

When he finally lined himself up and pushed in, it was slow--achingly slow. Julian gasped, his whole body shuddering around the thick, steady press. River filled him inch by inch, bottoming out with a groan, then stilling to let them both feel it.

Julian's hands clutched at the sheets, his face flushed, his voice a broken whimper:

"So full... oh god... so good..."

River began to move, slow and deep, rolling his hips with perfect control.

Every thrust came with a whisper, another drop of honey poured into Julian's head.

"You belong to me."

"You love being filled."

"You were made for this."

Julian moaned louder now, his cock untouched but dripping, his body rocking helplessly beneath River's slow rhythm.

He was floating again. Owned. Worshiped.

And all he could do was say yes.

---

River stayed deep.

His thrusts grew slower, heavier--each one grinding deep into Julian with a rolling intensity that made the boy gasp and cling tighter.

Julian was soaked now. His cock was red, dripping, twitching against his belly. He was so close he could barely breathe. His body was a live wire of sensation, every nerve open and hungry.

River leaned down and kissed him again, tender and possessive.

Then the velvet voice returned, warm and sweet and final.

"You're going to cum for me again," River whispered into his ear. "And when you do, it's going to settle in deep. No more doubts. No more questions. Just this. Just us."

Julian whimpered, nodding fast, his hands gripping River's back.

"Please," he begged. "Please, I want it... want to belong..."

River pressed in hard, held him there, filled him completely.

"Then take it," he growled. "Cum now. *Now.*"

Julian shattered.

His back arched off the bed, his cock spasming untouched, spurting hot ribbons across his belly and chest. He cried out, voice breaking, body pulsing around River's cock in rhythmic waves.

The tightness, the slick heat, the helpless surrender drove River over the edge. He groaned deep in his chest and spilled inside Julian, holding him still as he emptied himself, thick and full.

Julian felt every pulse.

Felt it settle inside him like truth.

His breath slowed. His body trembled. His mind... blank and beautiful.

River kissed his forehead and whispered, "Mine."

Julian smiled.

"Yours," he whispered.

---

Julian lay boneless beneath the tangled sheets, his body glowing, soaked in sweat and seed. His chest rose and fell in slow waves, every breath threaded with warmth and satisfaction.

River didn't pull away.

He stayed inside, wrapping his arms tightly around Julian's waist and pulling him close. Their foreheads touched. Their legs tangled.

River kissed his temple softly. Then his cheek. Then the corner of his mouth.

"You did so well," he whispered. "So sweet. So perfect."

Julian made a soft sound in reply--not quite words. Just a hum of pleasure, of belonging. His hands curled against River's chest, clinging lightly.

River stroked a hand through his hair, slow and rhythmic, grounding him.

"You're mine now," he said, voice warm and low. "Every part of you. Every soft thought. Every little ache. You don't have to think anymore. Just listen. Just stay close."

Julian sighed. His eyes fluttered, heavy with sleep and afterglow.

"Close," he echoed softly. "Always."

River kissed him again, held him tighter.

Julian melted into the touch. Into the voice.

Into *him.*

He didn't care about anything else. Not the world. Not the mess. Not the time.

Just this.

Just River.

And the feeling of being perfectly, lovingly *kept.*

---

Epilogue

Julian still went to class.

He still kept up his grades, still met with his advisor, still worked toward his degree with the quiet diligence that had always defined him.

But people noticed the changes.

He smiled more now. Not the tight, strained expression he used to wear like a mask, but something softer. Dreamier. A little slow around the edges.

He spoke less in seminars--but when he did, his voice was calm. Confident. Smooth. The professors remarked on it. "You seem more grounded lately," one said. "More comfortable in yourself."

Julian just smiled.

He dressed differently too. His once-starched collars gave way to worn, draping knits. Hoodies that smelled faintly of incense. Loose pants. Bare feet, sometimes, in study groups.

People asked him what had changed.

He said things like, "I've just been focusing on balance." Or, "I've been learning to let go."

They nodded. Accepted it. Moved on.

Only a few ever met River. The roommate with the sleepy eyes and the musician's hands. The one who never said much but always smiled like he knew something you didn't.

But those who *did* meet him understood. At least a little.

Julian was still sharp. Still capable. Still on track.

But he came home every day to soft music and open windows. To candlelight. To that voice.

And at night, he slept deeply. Happily. Wrapped in scent and breath and warmth.

He was still himself.

Just... softened.

Opened.

Kept.