Temporary Arrangement with Mr. Greg | EP 3: Caught in the Hallway

This fictional story features only adult characters (18+) and portrays consensual interactions throughout.

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Greg’s voice rolled out from the room, low and rough, “Alex… you up?”

My chest tightened. I froze there in the hallway, half-bent picking up the water bottle in my hand. The sheets shifted again inside, and before I could slip away, the door pulled wider.

Greg stood there. Shirtless. A pair of loose shorts sat low on his hips, fabric tented enough to betray what I already knew I’d seen. His chest rose heavy, the scatter of dark hair curling down his torso, and his eyes caught me in place like a spotlight.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, voice steady, but the heat under it was undeniable. Like he knew exactly what I’d just witnessed.

I swallowed hard. “I… uh—yeah. Just got some water.” I lifted the bottle lamely, like it could shield me from him. My mouth worked uselessly, the words tumbling out: “I, uh… thought maybe I’d get you some. I forgot earlier.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile, not yet. “Man, that’s really… sweet of you. Even my ex-wife never looked after me like this.”

My pulse stuttered at that. “Greg, I… I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. I mean, I’ve never been married, but…” My throat closed off before I could finish.

He stepped forward, close enough that the air shifted between us. His body heat poured over me, and when he reached out to take the bottle, his fingers brushed mine..warm, calloused and deliberate. That single touch shot through me, a lightning crack down my spine, straight to the heavy ache in my cock.

“Thanks, Alex,” he said quietly, eyes not moving from my face.

I tried to keep my gaze steady, but it betrayed me. I flicked down, and there it was - his shorts strained against the weight inside, the outline so heavy, thick, I felt my own cock pulse in answer. My breath caught, my throat dry.

Greg’s voice dropped, almost a whisper. “Uh… fuck. Sorry about that.” He shifted his stance, but not to hide it. If anything, the motion pushed his cock forward, proud and unashamed.

My face burned. “Uh… no, that’s… uh… okay,” I stammered.

Greg’s lips twitched into a grin. “It’s just… I mean…” He let out a short laugh, searching for words before shaking his head. “I was just uh...tired” He smiled like he already knew I wasn’t judging him, like the whole thing was nothing more than a slip he wasn’t really embarrassed about.

My face burned. “Sir.. uh.. You… you don’t have to explain,” I managed. My voice cracked.

He chuckled low, deep in his chest. “Alright then.” His fingers scratched idly through the dark hair on his chest, the movement lazy, intimate, like he wasn’t standing half-hard in front of me.

I cleared my throat and stepped back a little, desperate to break the tension. “Okay… I’ll let you get some sleep then. You must be tired today”

“Yeah, man,” Greg said, dragging his fingers across his hairy chest again, scratching it absently like it calmed him. He exhaled, the sound half a sigh, half a laugh. “Feels like the day’s been never-ending.” He shifted his weight, then glanced toward the clock in the living room. “And anyway, we’ve got that meeting with the CEO tomorrow. Big day.”

I forced a crooked grin, blurting out before I could stop myself, “Yeah. Way to end a Saturday.”

That earned a laugh, real and sharp. My stomach knotted at the sound.

“Sorry,” I muttered quickly, realizing what I’d said. “I forgot, you scheduled the meeting.”

Greg just clapped my shoulder, his palm firm, grounding me. The warmth of his hand lingered, steady and unhurried, like he knew I needed the contact more than the words. “C’mon, man. It’s chill. I’m dreading it as much as you are.” His thumb gave a small absent rub before he pulled back, and he let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a sigh. “Can’t wait for it to be over so we can get back here and actually relax.”

The way he said “we” made something dangerous flare in my chest.

“Yeah… same,” I murmured.

He took a sip from the bottle, muscles in his arm flexing, then looked at me with that lazy ease. “Anyway. We’ll leave at what—eight tomorrow?”

I blinked. “Uh..What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I figured since we’re both headed in, might as well tag along with me. You take the subway, right?”

I nodded dumbly. “Yeah. But you don’t have to—”

“Alex.” His tone shut me up instantly. Not sharp, but firm. “This is the least I can do. We work at the same office. Don’t be stubborn—just come with me.”

I fumbled. “Uh… okay, sir. Thank you.”

His brow arched again, and he grinned faintly. “Greg.”

“Right,” I said quickly. “Okay, Greg.”

He hesitated, scratching lightly at his chest before speaking again. “Uh… Alex. It’s best the others don’t know that I’m… crashing at a colleague’s place.”

“Absolutely not,” I said without missing a beat. “Don’t worry.”

Greg gave me a small nod, the corners of his mouth softening. “Thank you.” He lingered a moment longer, then padded back inside. “Good night,” he added over his shoulder.

The door clicked shut, leaving me standing there in the hall, cock aching in my shorts, pulse still echoing with the sound of his laugh and the weight of his hand on my shoulder. My boss - my divorced boss wanted to keep it a secret that he was spending nights under the same roof as me. Did that mean something? Or was he just being cautious, careful not to look like he was showing favoritism at work?

I went back to my room smiling, wondering if I was just being delusional to think something could happen between us… or if maybe, just maybe, it really could.

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