bartsbasement

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80% Gay, 20% Straight
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Disclaimer: I was wondering how well ChatGPT could write an erotic story. When finished reading (which I enjoyed), I decided to not gatekeep it. Be aware, the prompt I gave was not perfect, so the story isn't either. But it's been a fun one in my opinion. There are 9 parts in total. If you like it, I can share the rest later.All characters are 18+.

Chapter 1: The New Roommate

Daniel noticed the sound first. A dull thud, the scrape of something heavy, muffled voices moving through the narrow hallway. He glanced up from his laptop, blinking out of a half-focus haze. The light outside had softened into evening—orange at the edges of the window, shadows slipping longer across his floor.

He didn’t move right away. He just listened.

Another box landed with a soft bump across the hall. New roommate.

It had been quiet for a while, since the last guy moved out two months ago. Daniel had gotten used to the quiet. His room had started to feel more like an island than part of a shared flat. But now, the island had a neighbor again.

He stood and stretched, bones cracking, before stepping into the hallway.

The door across from his was propped open, cardboard boxes stacked at random angles. A rolled-up rug leaned precariously against the wall. Inside, a guy was crouched near a suitcase, sorting through tangled cables.

“Hey,” Daniel said, offering a quick nod.

The guy looked up and smiled, pushing wavy blonde hair from his face. “Hey. You must be Daniel?”

“Yeah. And you’re Lucas?”

“Yup. Moving chaos, phase one.”

Daniel gave a small smile. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’ve got it. Just trying to figure out which of these chargers go to stuff I still own.”

Daniel lingered in the doorway a second longer than necessary. Lucas stood, holding up two nearly identical adapters like he was weighing them.

His T-shirt clung lightly to his back, faint sweat marks near the collar. Jeans low on his hips. Fit. Confident in the way he moved, like he already knew the place would belong to him in a week.

Daniel looked away.

“Well, if you need anything—kitchen’s down the hall, bathroom’s across from it. Most people here keep to themselves, but... it’s chill.”

“Appreciate it.” Lucas shot him a quick smile. “I’ll find my way.”

Daniel nodded and stepped back into his room. Closed the door. The click sounded louder than he expected.

Later that night, there was a knock at the kitchen door. Lucas stood there barefoot, shirt slightly rumpled, holding a half-drunk bottle of cheap red wine.

“Thought I’d introduce myself properly. You drink wine, or are you one of those beer-or-nothing people?”

Daniel smirked. “I’ll make an exception.”

They sat in the kitchen, shoes off, drinking from mismatched mugs, talking quietly as the others in the flat settled in for the night. Lucas talked about his hometown, about studying architecture, about his girlfriend—Amira, dark-haired and confident, visiting family abroad for the week. His voice was relaxed, a little tired, but warm.

Daniel found himself listening more than talking. Watching the way Lucas’s mouth curved when he joked. The way his eyes flicked to Daniel’s when he was trying to gauge a reaction.

It didn’t feel like flirting.

But it didn’t feel entirely neutral, either.

After they finished the last of the wine, Lucas gave a nod and headed down the hallway to his room. Daniel lingered a bit in the kitchen, rinsing out the mugs, then grabbed his toothbrush and made his way to the bathroom.

The hallway was quiet. One light flickered overhead, buzzing faintly. He rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the change in brightness.

As he turned the corner toward the bathroom, the door opened—and Lucas stepped out.

A white towel was slung low on his hips, clinging to the sharp curve of his pelvis. His chest was still damp, beads of water catching on lightly tanned skin. Blonde hair clung in wet waves to his forehead.

“Oh—hey,” Lucas said, casual, drying his neck with another towel. “Didn’t know you were still up.”

Daniel froze for half a second. “Yeah, just... brushing my teeth.”

Lucas stepped aside, still drying his hair. “All yours.”

Daniel walked past him, trying not to look too directly. But he caught the shape of Lucas’s back, the narrow dip at his waist, the hint of muscle in his legs.

It was nothing.

Just another guy in a towel. People shared bathrooms all the time. No big deal.

Except it felt like something.

Back in his room, Daniel undressed slowly, peeling off his shirt and tossing it to the chair. He sat on the edge of his bed for a while, scrolling through his phone, replying to a message from Lisa.

"Can't wait to see you Friday. Miss your bed. And you."

He stared at the screen a few seconds longer than necessary, then turned it off.

Somewhere across the hallway, Lucas was probably unpacking a few more things. Maybe climbing into bed. Maybe still shirtless, towel discarded, moving around his room without a care in the world.

Daniel lay back, one arm tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

The air felt just slightly too warm. He left the window cracked. A breeze pushed gently through the curtain.

He didn’t know why he kept picturing Lucas like that. The casual way he smiled, like he hadn’t noticed anything unusual. The low wrap of the towel. The wet skin. The lean muscle.

He wasn’t into guys. He wasn’t—

Daniel turned over sharply, exhaling into the pillow.

It was nothing. Just noticing. Just a guy thing.

He told himself that, even as the image stayed burned behind his eyes.
 

Chapter 2: Boys Talk​

It didn’t take long for Lucas to feel like part of the house.

Within a week, his door was always slightly ajar, music drifting out—nothing loud, just low rhythms and acoustic guitar. He cooked often, and well. The kitchen smelled like garlic and pepper when he was in it. He knocked on Daniel’s door most evenings, asking if he wanted to eat together.

Daniel said yes more often than not.

They developed small rituals: late dinners, quiet music, the occasional shared bottle of wine or a YouTube deep dive that spiraled past midnight. Lucas had a way of making the room feel comfortable, like it didn’t matter what they talked about as long as they didn’t force it.

But things were getting more personal.

It started with girlfriend talk.

“She’s cool,” Lucas said one night, curled on the floor beside Daniel’s bed, sipping from a chipped mug. “Like, strong-willed. Knows what she wants. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to catch up.”

Daniel sat cross-legged on his bed, hoodie loose over his shoulders. “Lisa’s kind of the opposite. She’s sweet. Quiet. Safe, you know?”

Lucas looked up at him, eyes steady. “Is safe good?”

Daniel hesitated. “Yeah. I think so.”

The pause lingered.

“I mean... it’s not exciting all the time,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I guess that’s not everything.”

Lucas didn’t respond right away. He just nodded slowly and took another sip. Then, almost offhandedly, he said, “Ever get bored?”

Daniel looked at him. “With Lisa?”

Lucas shrugged. “In general.”

The air thickened a little. Daniel laughed under his breath, trying to shake the tension. “What, like... sexually?”

Lucas smirked. “I’m not judging. Just saying... we’re guys. It happens.”

Daniel leaned back against the wall, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Sometimes. I guess.”

There was a comfortable silence after that. Or maybe a charged one—it was hard to tell the difference these days.

Then Lucas asked, “You ever watch weird porn just to see if it does anything for you?”

Daniel blinked. “Define ‘weird.’”

Lucas chuckled. “I don’t know. Stuff you’d never search for seriously. Like... out of curiosity.”

Daniel gave a half-smile. “Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”

Lucas tilted his head. “Ever done it with a friend around?”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “What, like watch porn together?”

“Yeah.”

There was something casual about the way Lucas said it. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t leading anywhere. But Daniel could feel something shift in the room.

He answered slowly. “Not since I was a teenager, probably.”

Lucas grinned. “Same. Haven’t done that in years.”

Daniel watched him for a moment. “Why bring it up?”

Lucas looked down at his mug, swirling the wine lazily. “I don’t know. Just thinking about how different stuff gets as you get older. Like, we act like we’ve figured everything out, but we’re still curious. Still messing around in our heads. Still... testing boundaries.”

Daniel nodded, almost to himself. “Yeah.”

A beat.

Then Lucas looked up again, eyes calm but direct. “Want to try it? Just for fun.”

Daniel laughed, more out of surprise than amusement. “You serious?”

Lucas shrugged. “Why not? Not like we’re doing anything else.”

Daniel opened his mouth to respond—but didn’t. The idea hung there, not fully spoken, not fully dismissed. He looked at Lucas, who looked back without flinching.

It wasn’t about the porn.

Not really.

It was about something unspoken, unnamed. Something neither of them was ready to say out loud yet.

Daniel looked away first, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “Maybe.”

Lucas grinned. “Cool.”

Nothing happened that night. They just kept talking, drifting to other topics, letting the tension dissolve into comfort again.

But the idea had been planted.

And neither of them would forget it.
 

Chapter 3: Across the Bed​

It didn’t happen right away.

A few nights passed—each one quieter than the last. Daniel kept thinking about the conversation they’d had. About how casually Lucas had said it. Like it was nothing. Like they were just two bored students messing around with ideas to pass the time.

But Daniel couldn’t let it go.

The thought lingered as he lay in bed some nights, earbuds in, phone screen casting soft light on his face. His search history blurred with things he wouldn’t normally admit. He told himself it was just a reaction. Just curiosity. Lucas had mentioned it, planted the seed.

That was all.

Then one night, there was a knock on his door.

Lucas stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, laptop under one arm. His hair was damp, like he’d just showered. He smiled, a little crooked. “You doing anything?”

Daniel blinked. “No, not really.”

Lucas nodded. “Mind if I come in for a bit?”

Daniel stepped aside without answering.

They didn’t talk much at first. Lucas sat on the edge of Daniel’s bed, opened the laptop, started scrolling. Daniel sat against the headboard, legs pulled in. There was a shared stillness between them, familiar now. The hum of the radiator, the soft rustling of fabric as they settled.

Lucas pulled up a browser window. Looked over at him once.

“We doing this?” he asked, voice low but casual.

Daniel hesitated. Then gave a small nod. “Yeah. Why not.”

They were both quiet as the video started. Neither of them commented on the ridiculous intro or the overacted moaning. They just watched—on opposite ends of the bed, backs to the wall, legs stretched toward the middle.

The laptop rested between them, propped against a pillow. The glow flickered on their faces, warm and uneasy.

Daniel felt the tension settle low in his stomach almost immediately. It was less about what was on the screen and more about who was next to him. Lucas shifted slightly, hand drifting into the waistband of his sweatpants. The sound was barely audible, but Daniel heard it.

He mirrored the movement, fingers brushing over denim, heart pounding.

Neither of them looked at each other directly. But Daniel could feel it—the rhythm, the weight of breath, the slow grind of something unspoken between them. It wasn’t just arousal. It was confusion. Nervous energy. Awareness.

His breathing grew faster, shallower. So did Lucas’s.

Daniel got close. Close enough that his hand paused, twitching, almost there—and then stopped.

He couldn’t.

Something about being in the same room—breathing the same air, hearing Lucas shift and tense and let out a quiet exhale—made it impossible. His body refused to cross that final line. The release hovered just out of reach, nerves tight and full, but locked up.

Lucas exhaled sharply, then stopped moving altogether. His hand slid out of his sweatpants slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low, a little unsteady. “I can’t.”

Daniel blinked, eyes unfocused. “Me neither.”

Lucas gave a quiet, crooked smile—half amused, half frustrated. “Guess it’s weirder than we thought.”

They both stared at the screen for a moment longer. The video kept playing, but neither was watching it anymore.

Lucas closed the laptop and stood.

“I’m gonna...” he said, motioning vaguely toward the door.

Daniel nodded. “Yeah.”

Lucas didn’t say goodnight. He just left.

Daniel sat there for a long minute, heart still pounding, blood hot and unfinished in his veins. He stared at the ceiling, then at the closed door.

Then he stood, turned off the light, and climbed under the covers.

It didn’t take long.

He slid his jeans down halfway, boxers pushed just enough to free himself. His hand moved quicker now—no pressure to hide, no tension from another body beside him. He was hard in seconds, breath shuddering through his nose as the memory of Lucas filled his mind.

Not the porn. Not even the room.

Just Lucas beside him. The rhythm of his breathing. The sound of fabric moving. The way his voice had dropped when he said I can’t—quiet, vulnerable.

Daniel came hard, chest lifting off the bed as he bit down on his wrist to stay silent. His stomach tightened, hips twitching once as he spilled across his skin. The relief was sharp, fast, and laced with guilt.

He lay back afterward, sticky and warm, eyes wide in the dark.


Across the hall, Lucas was already in bed, laptop resting on his chest.

He didn’t even bother pulling up a new video. He didn’t need one. The memory was still fresh—Daniel’s profile lit by the screen glow, the quiet gasp he hadn’t meant to make, the tension in his jaw as he tried not to look.

Lucas’s hand moved fast, practiced. His legs were bent, heels digging into the mattress.

He imagined Daniel lying there now, doing the same thing. Alone.

The thought pushed him over the edge.

He came with a groan that he smothered into the pillow, hips jerking once, twice. Chest rising and falling fast as the warmth spread and slowly cooled.

He stared at the ceiling afterward, throat dry, mouth half-open.

Neither of them would sleep easily that night.

And neither of them would pretend it didn’t happen.
 

Chapter 4: The Repeat​

They didn’t talk about it.

Not the next morning. Not the day after. Not even in passing.

But something had shifted.

Daniel could feel it in the way Lucas glanced at him when they crossed paths in the kitchen. Not teasing, not awkward—just… knowing. Like they shared something invisible now. A thread that tied them together, quiet and taut, pulling tighter by the day.

They went back to routine. Sort of.

Shared dinners. Casual drinks. Streaming bad shows from the couch. But the air between them carried something heavier now, and neither of them reached for scissors.

The second time it happened, it was in Daniel’s room again.

Lucas showed up with a laptop and a half-empty bag of chips, no warning, just a knock and a smile. “Bored.”

Daniel hesitated before opening the door wider. “Same.”

They didn’t make a show of it. There was no long build-up. Lucas flopped down on Daniel’s bed like it was the most natural thing in the world, kicked off his shoes, and opened his laptop. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was intentional.

He cast the video to the TV this time.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “We’re going bigger now?”

Lucas smirked. “Might as well commit.”

They sat on the bed, not as far apart this time. The space between them had shrunk, not dramatically, but noticeably. Their legs brushed now and then, neither of them reacting to it. The room was dim, light from the screen flickering across both their faces.

Lucas was the first to shift again—casually unbuttoning his jeans and sliding his hand in, not rushing, just… doing. Like this was normal now. Routine.

Daniel hesitated.

But his gaze dropped to Lucas’s stomach—the way the soft skin just above his waistband tightened when he moved. There was something bold in how open Lucas was now. And something quietly devastating in how much Daniel wanted to watch.

He let his fingers drift across his own waistband. His breathing picked up.

The moaning from the screen filled the room. Background noise.

But Daniel wasn’t paying attention to it. He was watching the rhythm of Lucas’s hand beneath the denim. The way his mouth opened slightly. The way his eyes flicked once—briefly—to Daniel’s lap, and didn’t apologize for it.

Daniel shifted, pulled his jeans down just a little. The waistband of his boxers rode low.

His hand moved slowly, carefully, matching Lucas’s pace.

Still no words.

But there was awareness in every breath.

A glance. A sound. A stillness that meant something more.

Daniel felt the pressure build again, but it was the same as last time. Too heavy. Too sharp. His body tensed, seeking release—but not finding it.

He let out a breath, frustrated, stopping his hand.

Lucas exhaled hard beside him. “Not happening again,” he muttered, voice low.

Daniel looked over. Lucas’s hand was resting still on his stomach. His fly half-open. His hair messier than before.

He looked… good.

Too good.

Daniel pulled his shirt down, covering himself a bit. “Nope.”

Lucas let out a soft chuckle. “Guess there’s something about this setup that doesn’t quite work.”

Daniel didn’t respond right away.

Lucas stood, zipping up without shame. “I’m gonna finish in my own bed. Too weird otherwise.”

Daniel gave a tight nod. “Yeah. Same.”

Lucas didn’t say goodnight. He left the door slightly ajar behind him.

Daniel waited until he couldn’t hear footsteps anymore, then lay back on his bed, hand slipping back into place without hesitation. It was easier now—easier to let go, when it was just him and the dark.

He thought about Lucas unzipping. Lucas shifting closer. The way their thighs had touched, bare skin brushing denim.

His climax hit fast—hot, clenched, quiet.

He came with a sharp inhale and a soft grunt, hips jerking once. The tension finally broke.

Across the hall, Lucas was doing the same.

Laid out on his bed, shirt pulled up to his ribs, legs spread, breathing fast. He stroked himself hard, messy, urgent.

And when he came, the first name that fluttered at the edge of his breath wasn’t Amira.