NokiMo
Blake Hart
Blake Hart

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Roomies in Arms - Part 17

Everyone in this story is 18+

“Sebby, you screamed in your sleep. Are you okay?”

I blinked up at him, throat dry, sweat sticking my hair to my forehead. I couldn’t even respond — not yet. Everything felt too much: the heavy air, the pounding in my chest, all the hands that hadn’t been real.

“I—” My voice cracked. I sat up too fast, still dazed, and shoved the duvet off me.

Big mistake.

There it was.

A clear, obvious stain soaking through my perfectly ironed plaid pajamas.

Lex’s eyebrows went up. Then his mouth curved — not cruel, just amused.

“Ah,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Wet dream?”

My soul left my body. “I—what—no—”

Lex lifted a hand like calm down, Sherlock. “Relax. I’m not judging. Happens to me all the time.”

“That’s not—”

“Sebby,” he interrupted gently, “it’s a wet dream. That’s literally half what sleep is for.”

“I did not—” My face burned hotter than the sheets.

He shrugged, easy, nonchalant. “Sometimes I have them about anime characters. Once it was about an anthropomorphic car. Bodies are weird, yeah?”

I stared at him. Speechless.

Lex smirked. “Point is — it’s fine. You don’t have to explain.”

My heart finally slowed a little. “You… you’re really not bothered?”

“Bothered? Please. If screaming my name in your sleep is the worst thing you do today, we’re golden.”

“I didn’t scream your name!”

“You totally did,” Lex said with infuriating calm.

He turned, heading toward the kitchen like nothing monumental had just happened. “Breakfast?”

I buried my face in my hands. “Kill me.”

“Already busy,” Lex called over his shoulder. “Making toast.”

◆◆◆

I cleaned up in record time — cold shower, fresh clothes, and the quiet, gnawing humiliation of knowing Lex had seen. By the time I wandered into the kitchen, I’d almost convinced myself it was manageable.

Nick and Jax were already gone, muttering about some ungodly early seminar. The apartment felt… quieter.

Lex had set the table. Which, in fairness, meant a chipped plate, a half-empty jar of Marmite, and a candle that looked like it had been dug out of someone’s drawer at three in the morning. Two mugs of tea steamed beside it.

“This is…” I blinked. “Surprisingly domestic.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Lex said, spreading Marmite on toast like he was painting a war banner. “Breakfast of champions. And orphans. Same thing, really.”

Lex only grinned, biting into his Marmite sandwich with exaggerated relish. “Thank you. I soaked it for thirty minutes.” He chewed thoughtfully, then added, “This Marmite stuff isn’t too bad, actually. Kinda reminds me of noodle grease, y’know?” He winked.

And, of course, I blushed.

He slid a crumpled notebook across the table. “While you were screaming my name in your sleep, I mapped out more on Astra. Payment flow, partners, I also figured I could do some coding myself. Look.”

I glanced at the chaotic scrawl — doodles of stars, obscene stick figures, arrows everywhere. “This is either genius or manic, probably both in equal measure.”

“Definitely both,” he said. “Imagine — no gatekeepers, no Victorian moral panic. Artists get paid instantly. Cryptographic tip jars. We could launch beta by summer if we hustle.”

I sipped the tea, wincing. “You want me to pitch this to my father?”

“You’re the posh trust fund kid,” Lex said lightly. “He’ll listen to you. I’m just the feral tech goblin with the good ideas.”

I smiled despite myself. “You’re not wrong.”

Silence settled for a moment. Comfortable. Until I exhaled. “About… the other day. The, um—”

“Spunkgate?” Lex supplied, smirking.

I groaned. “Don’t name it.”

“Bit late for that.”

“I just—” I fumbled, fingers tightening on the mug. “It wasn’t you. It was me. It was a lot all at once, and I wasn’t ready. But, I’m getting there.”

Lex leaned back, expression softening for once. “Seb, you think I’m in a rush?”

“You kind of radiate rush.”

“Fair. But I like you. Not just the horny chaos. You. And Astra’s ours. We’re building something together. So whatever speed you need? I can match it?”

Something unclenched in my chest. I smiled, small, but real. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

He clinked his mug against mine. “To Astra. And horny patience.”

I laughed, actually laughed, and felt lighter for it.

By the time I left for class, my stomach was full and my nerves calmer. Lex was at the sink, sleeves rolled up, humming some anime theme as he washed dishes.

I paused at the door.

He looked up, caught me watching. Smirked. “Go. Before you’re late.”

I muttered something noncommittal and left.

The butterflies didn’t.


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