Host User

by Double-U

An unexpected package arrives with a strange device inside, and shortly thereafter your asshole roommate starts being really nice to you. Coincidence?

Sun leaked into the room through the living room blinds. It was a beautiful summer day outside—warm, with a little breeze, perfect for a walk or some outdoor fun. But I wasn’t feeling it. After an especially hectic day at the office this week, I didn’t particularly feel like leaving the apartment. I was still in my worn tee-shirt and gym shorts that I wore to bed the night before. It felt like a lazy Saturday.

The doorbell rang, and I looked up from my phone, thumb still scrolling through Instagram. I opened the front door, seeing the delivery truck slowly drive down the street. I felt a burst of excitement—because who doesn’t love an unexpected package? I brought it inside to further inspect today’s surprise. It was just a small brown box… addressed to me, from a company called ‘Biotech’.

I grabbed some scissors, sliding the blade down the packaging tape, and emptied the contents of the box on the living room table. Wiping the packing peanuts aside, my fingers grazed something cold and metallic.

“What’s this?” I picked up what appeared to be a small metal credit card—but without the obvious information that is usually displayed on one. Instead, there was a yellow fingerprint scanner in the center, with a small screen on the bottom, which was currently blank. There was nothing else on the card, expect for a blue ‘Biotech’ logo in the front corner.

Curious, I put my thumb to the scanner to see if could get any response from the thing. To my surprise, the scanner started pulsing yellow, eventually glowing green, and displaying the words in the small screen, which read “Host User scan successful. Please scan Sub User.” The finger print scanner returned to the yellow shade. “Huh.” I was baffled, not knowing what it was, or who sent it.

And as if on cue, Tom came strolling in from down the hall. Tom was my roommate. It’s a funny story how we became roommates in the first place, because we’re so different. But long story short: money.

So, Tom was about my age, and worked at a shipping warehouse… or something like that. And seemed to workout at every available chance he got. Even when he’s watching TV. He’s kind of a douche, but he has the money for rent, so I just learned to deal with his sub-par personality. And there was the added benefit of the eye candy, so it wasn’t all bad.

I tried not to look at his gorgeously sculpted bod, which I normally do when I know he’s looking so his ego doesn’t get too large. His tank painted his body perfectly, highlighting his huge arms, round shoulders, and defined pecs. He always walked with a stride, which usually gave the impression of authority, which seemed to say, ‘I can break you in half, so get out of my way’.

“I think that’s mine, actually,” Tom said, grabbing the card from my hands. Over the years, I’ve learned to pick my battles with him. I wasn’t in the mood to start arguing, even though the package was addressed to me. So I released my grip and threw my hands up. It’s not like I had any idea what it was anyway. I watched him put his thumb on the yellow fingerprint scanner. After a few seconds, it turned green, and gave a subtle beep, and the scanner turned off.

“It says—’Set up completed.’ Do you know what this is?” he asked, and I just shrugged. He tossed the card back on the table and throw his hands up in frustration and disappointment. “Whatever.”

Whatever the card was, it was off now. And I tried to get it to turn back on—tried for a good 5 minutes. Nada. I put the card in my pocket and returned to Instagram.

The rest of the day passed by in a blink of an eye—I guess that’s how you know you had a nice Saturday. The next morning, I woke up to the heavenly smell of bacon in the air. I roll over to my phone on the bed side nightstand—noon. I yawned, stretching my arms out towards the ceiling. I shook off the disbelief that Tom was cooking breakfast—it couldn’t be him, because he never cooks…

I was wrong, apparently. As I turned the corner into the kitchen, I saw an unfamiliar sight—Tom cooking breakfast. And without a shirt, which he never has done before.

His back was turned to me—it was just perfect. It was the perfect V shape, cut on the bottom, then spreading to the shoulder blades, ending with powerful shoulders. His skin was smooth and blemish free. And almost forgot to mention his beautifully sculpted ass and legs. “Morning! Made us some breakfast,” he said. I didn’t respond right away, I was too busy admiring the sight.

Tom turned around when I didn’t say anything. There was a genuine smile on his face—one you would get when waking up on vacation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Let alone smile like that. We locked eyes. He squinted his eyes and tilted his head. Succumbing to the temptation, I glanced down to his chest, and I nearly fainted at the rock hard abs and rounded pecs. He smiled again. “Hey… you feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine, but… you… are you okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you… like this.” I said, gesturing over to him. Maybe he was high? Even if he was, this was not normal for him. Wait, did he say ‘made us breakfast’?

He shook his head, and shrugged hism shoulders. “I feel great,” he said, as he turned back around, sliding some bacon and eggs on two plates. “Here, sit down, I made us some bacon and eggs.” This was just weird. His friendly tone, the fact that he made me breakfast… “Aren’t you going to sit down?” Tom asked, when I just starred at him, holding two plates of piping hot, deliciously smelling food.

What’s was his angle? Why was he doing this? “I uhh…” was all I managed to say.

He cut me off. “Sit down and enjoy. Don’t make me make you.” And then he winked. He winked. I was flabbergasted. It wasn’t threatening at the slightest. It was… it was… playful. And very sexy. So, dumbstruck, I sat down, digging into the eggs. And every time I looked up from my plate, he was looking at me with a sense of curiosity and innocence. What the hell was his angle? Why was he doing this?

“Okay, so, first, this was… amazing, thanks for making food.” I said, looking into his big drown, puppy dog eyes. He nodded. “Seriously, what’s up? Why are you doing all of this?”

He shrugged, and looked out the window, which overlooked the apartment gardens. “I don’t know.” He stood up. I was watching his every move—watching all of his muscles in his chest move as he walked. “I just want to.” And then he stood behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. Okay, too weird. Alarm bells were going off in my head. This was just … what happened to the asshole roommate I knew?

I stood up to try to shake off his hands. “I know what you need,” he whispered in my ear. What did he mean by that? I began to pull away and object; but he spun me around and we started making out. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me in closer. I could feel his biceps against my back and his chest against mine. Bliss flooded my head. I didn’t want this feeling to disappear. Us, kissing, in the kitchen, without a worry in the world. I’ve secretly wanted this for so long.

“Wait,” I said. I couldn’t think straight with him so close. Something was wrong.

“Perfect idea,” he raised his eye brows, and pulled my shirt off, over my head.

“That’s not what I…” He lifted me up and put me on the kitchen table. Then we were making out again. He grabbed my hands and slid them up and down his chest—I felt the ridges of muscle: his defined abs and the two mountains of his pecs.

Our lips broke apart. “Why… why are you doing this?” I managed to say between my breaths.

He looked at me, confused. “I thought this was what you wanted…” He backed away, his smile faded into… what looked like… disappointment?

This is not how I thought today would go. “I do, I mean, yes. But, this isn’t you.” The room fell silent. Us both avoiding eye contact. “Do you want this?”

Our eyes met. “I want what you want.” And he winked again. Huh—not what I was expecting. I mean, I don’t know what I was expecting, but that was not it.

And then we made out a few more times on the couch in the living room. After what felt like hours, we gave our lips a break, and cuddled together on the couch.

The apartment was dark—we must have fallen asleep. Sunlight no longer seeped in through the window. There were no lights on. Only the small red lights from the cable box gave the room a faint glow. Tom was sleeping next to me, I could feel his head leaning against my chest. I wondered what time it was, searching my pockets for my phone. Only it wasn’t there. But something else was that I was not expecting. My raging hard-on. And it was pretty massive. I didn’t want to wake Tom, but I also had to pee.

After a few minutes of trying to figure out how to move in such a way as to not wake him, I decided to just rip the band-aid off. I stood up, but also helped his head softly reach the couch cushion. I barely saw his silhouette stir. Success!

I narrowly avoided the coffee table, the lamp, and the trash can on the way to the bathroom. I mainly felt my way to the bathroom in the pitch black, relying on my sense of touch to get me there safely. And then I was in the bathroom. I closed the door behind me, and flipped on the lights. But I saw Tom in the reflection instead of myself.

I blinked my eyes a few times, to make sure I wasn’t dreaming or anything. Tom must have followed me to the bathroom to try to be funny…

I let out a very strange chuckle… which was definitely not mine… and turned round to find no one there. My eyes darted back to the mirror to see Tom staring back at me.

What the fuck?

My hands raced up to Tom’s… my… chest—to my two meaty pecs. They felt dense and foreign. Like it was my flesh, but Tom’s body.

My heart was racing. And my vision began to darken. Then I was on the floor. Out like a light.

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