[RGRE] Roomdancer


                                            >RGREqG

                                            >Post school

                                            >Live in an apartment, rooming with <waifu> to save money

                                            >You don't know each other very well, but you trust each other enough to live in the same place

                                            >You're about 95% sure that she won't turn out to be crazy and try to stab you in your sleep

                                            >It's the summer time, and you're starting to ditch layers of clothing

                                            >You're down to a t-shirt and your boxers

                                            >You were worried that your roomie would be uncomfortable or something, but she hasn't said a word

                                            >You catch her looking at you sometimes, though

                                            >You'll look over just in time to see her eyes darting away

                                            >You guess this just means she's becoming more comfortable around you and doesn't mind that you're not wearing much

                                            >The last thing you want is to chase away the person who's paying half the rent

                                            >Meanwhile, your roommate is being teased by her friend

                                            >"I can't believe you live with a hot guy but you haven't tried to get into his pants yet."

                                            >Roommate wonders if you wearing so little is a sign that you're interested in her

                                            >She just hopes that you can't see her nipples poking through her shirt when she thinks about you

                                            >Maybe she can sneak a pair of underwear out of your room without you noticing...

                                            >The last thing she wants is to be labeled a pervert

                                            ---

                                            >Work at a shitty office job

                                            >Boss is a pervert

                                            >She keeps trying to get you to climb ladders and finds books/files so that she has an excuse to "hold" the ladder steady, and practically stuffs her face into your crotch

                                            >Barely making ends meet even with a roommate, so you can't quit or do something to get yourself fired

                                            >Think it's nice coming home to a woman who isn't constantly trying to get into your pants

                                            >Tell your roommate this, and her face sort of twitches when you tell her that you're happy she's your friend

                                            >Maybe she's just trying not to creep you out with looking too happy at being called a friend

                                            >You never see her hanging out with anyone, so maybe she doesn't have many

                                            >Unintentionally friendzone your roommate

                                            >Meanwhile, her friend is texting her and trying to convince your roommate that being friends is one step closer to touching the dick

                                            >"He says he feels safe around you! That's good! Just let him know you'll be there with a shoulder for him to cry into when he has a bad day at work, and he'll be walking around the apartment wearing one of your sweaters in no time."

                                            ---

                                            >"Ugh..."

                                            >You are Moondancer, and your roommate Anon is back home late from work.

                                            "Anonymous? Yeesh, you look exhausted. Didn't your shift end a few hours ago?"

                                            >Anon shuffles over to your couch and collapses onto it

                                            >His ass is right at the edge of his seat, and he's leaning back as heavily as he can.

                                            >His head's tilted back over the edge of the headrest, giving you a good look at his neck

                                            >His posture makes his shirt slide up his stomach, and you feel your face heat up as his abs are revealed

                                            >You feel like a pervert for looking at him like this

                                            >Surely he doesn't mean to expose himself to you... does he?

                                            >"The boss kept me late for nearly an hour so that I could 'organize' her office."

                                            >He swings his head around and looks at you through tired, heavy eyes.

                                            >"That means she had me pick things up off a very low shelf and then stretch up to put them on a higher shelf. Ol' Harshwhinny hasn't gotten any softer since she quit her job at our old high school."

                                            >Your face heats up again, but this time it's out of anger.

                                            "Did she really do that?!

                                            >Anon nods.

                                            "That pervert!"

                                            >Ugh!

                                            >The nerve of that woman!

                                            >Using her position as Anon's boss to perv on him like that!

                                            >"Mmmm...."

                                            >He hums in agreement.

                                            >Anon swallows thickly, and you follow his adam's apple's path up and down his throat.

                                            >Your anger fights against your lust, and you force yourself to look away

                                            >Bad Moondancer!

                                            >Anon was just sexually harassed at work, he doesn't need the same thing at home!

                                            >"And on my way back, There was this trio of girls who were following me. I think we knew them from school - they were in that Battle of the Bands thing. They kept asking me to come home with them and were telling me exactly what they'd do to me, but they stopped once the bus came and I got on. But... I swear I saw the same poof of orange when I got to our apartment."

                                            >You feel fear and disgust pool in your belly.

                                            >Poor Anon.

                                            "That's... that's disgusting."

                                            >Tentatively, you reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

                                            >Anon doesn't flinch away, so you think that's a win for you.

                                            >Guys let you touch them like this when they like you, right?

                                            "Are you going to be alright? I get off from work before you do - I can bus over to your work when you get off and we can both go home together."

                                            >Anon lifts his head and smiles sweetly at you, and your stomach flip-flops.

                                            >Anon is such a sweet, hard-working boy, and you hate the idea of him being harassed like that

                                            >"That's sweet of you, Moonie. But I'm fine now that I'm home."

                                            >You smile at the nickname, and you let your hand slide away when he gets up so that he can shower and go to bed.

                                            >Anon starts to undo his belt before he disappears across the corner and down the hallway to the bathroom, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see the waistband of his underwear.

                                            >Was that on purpose?

                                            >You think that was on purpose.

                                            >Why can't boys just be straight-forward?!

                                            >...

                                            >Maybe Twilight was right.

                                            >Maybe being a good friend for him is a step in the right direction.

                                            ---

                                            "Hnng..."

                                            >You are...

                                            >You are Moondancer.

                                            "Ugh..."

                                            >You are ill.

                                            >You are laying on your terrible couch with a pillow and blanket, listening to your awful TV spew out white noise in the form of daytime television.

                                            >"Shhh..."

                                            >Something cold and wet dabs against your forehead, and it's the most amazing sensation you've ever felt in your life.

                                            >You crack open an eye, and Anon's face swims into focus.

                                            >He makes eye-contact with you, and then pulls what was apparently a damp cloth away from your face.

                                            >"How are you feeling?"

                                            "Grrrrnnngg..."

                                            >Anon sighs and presses the back of his hand to your forehead.

                                            >His hand feels cool and dry, and you almost miss the sound of his concerned hum.

                                            >"Hang in there, okay?"

                                            "Today's Tuesday, right?"

                                            >Anon nods and helps you sit up.

                                            >Normally, you would count yourself lucky if a hot guy laid his hands on you, but you're too sick to really appreciate this sort of physical attention.

                                            >It's a little like a few of your internet hentais, though.

                                            >Y'know, the ones every red-blooded girl loves to read.

                                            >The heroine is sick, and her male friend lovingly takes care of her with vaguely sexual undertones.

                                            >He takes her temperature by resting his forehead against hers.

                                            >He'll make intense eye-contact while spoon-feeding her homemade soup that he made himself.

                                            >And in the end, he'll give her a sponge bath that ends with him rubbing the heroine off, insisting that he heard that encouraging her to sweat will help cool her down.

                                            >All that's missing is the soup and the sponge bath.

                                            >"Yeah, it's Tuesday."

                                            "Today was my day off..."

                                            >Anon hums.

                                            >"You sure do know how to spend your free time, Moonie."

                                            >The little gears in your head churn sluggishly, like they're all gunked up with jello.

                                            >Tuesday...

                                            >...

                                            >Anon works on week days.

                                            "Don't you work today?"

                                            >You don't THINK you passed out for an entire 8 hours, so you'd notice if he left to go to work.

                                            >Anon just nods.

                                            >"Yeah, but I took the day off."

                                            >...what?

                                            >Anon can't afford to take days off.

                                            >You both went over your finances together so that you could afford your apartment, and you know that you're both collectively living paycheck to paycheck.

                                            "But you need the money."

                                            >Anon shrugs carelessly in that smooth, effortless way that every boy knows how to do.

                                            >"I... might have convinced Harshwhinny to pay me through for the day."

                                            >Bullshit.

                                            "You said she's just as big a hardass today as she was back in school, though. How did you...?"

                                            >Anon grimaces, looking unhappy for the first time this morning.

                                            >Now that you know what an unhappy-Anon face looks like, you sorta wonder if he didn't mind making sure you didn't drown in your own vomit.

                                            >He looked content before, when he was taking care of you.

                                            >It was almost... paternal.

                                            >Or like a husband taking care of his wife.

                                            >If your face weren't already red from your fever, you'd be blushing right now.

                                            >MAYBE you have a little crush on your roommate.

                                            >Just a tiny one.

                                            >But he can never find out.

                                            >"I... MIGHT have flashed her my dick."

                                            "What."

                                            >"And balls."

                                            "WHAT."

                                            >Those are a boy's most precious possessions!

                                            >Only people who love him are supposed to see that!

                                            >Was he really forced to degrade himself and devalue a priceless intimate moment?

                                            >All because you're sick?

                                            "Y-You didn't... Why would you..."

                                            >You feel bad.

                                            >Emotionally, you mean; you've felt physically bad since late last night.

                                            >It's your fault Anon had to... had to WHORE himself out to his awful, perverted boss.

                                            >You can't even say you could do the same for him, since Mister Withers would fire you if you flashed him your breasts or pussy.

                                            "I'm sorry..."

                                            >To your shame, you end the sentiment with a whimper.

                                            >You turn away from him, feeling ashamed.

                                            >But Anon shakes his head and rests his palm on your cheek, gently guiding your face so that you're looking at him.

                                            >"Don't worry about it. It's my body, and I get to decide what I do with it. And if putting on a bit of a show for my boss means I can stay home and take care of you without worrying about not being able to make rent, then it's worth it. Hell, I'll do it again tomorrow if your fever doesn't break by tonight."

                                            >You're in awe.

                                            >Half because your flu is affecting your emotions, and half because of what Anon is willing to give up for his dumb roommate.

                                            >"Now, do you think you're good to eat? I made some soup, and I want you to try and get something in your stomach.".

                                            >You nod dumbly, and he smiles and gently pats your cheek.

                                            >"Good. After you eat, I hope you'll let me give you a quick sponge bath. Don't take this the wrong way, Moonie, but you stink right now."

                                            >Oh goodness when did your life become an anime