At six in the evening, the sky faded into dusk. The old, worn room grew even more hazy and indistinct. I fumbled toward the light switch and flipped it on, only to realize the bulb was dead too. Panicking, I rushed downstairs to find the security guard and said, “Uncle, the light in my room’s broken. Can you fix it for me?”
The guard was sitting cross-legged on a stone bench in front of the lobby. He replied, “It’s not the bulb. The whole area’s having a power outage. Should be back around nine or ten tonight.”
I collapsed onto the bench, completely at a loss over how I was supposed to survive the next few hours in darkness. Just then, Hoài Nhân was wheeling his motorbike out toward the gate and asked me, “Hưng, wanna go for a ride?”
The guard immediately chimed in, “Yeah, go hang out with him. No power at home, there’s nothing to do anyway.”
And he wasn’t wrong—no power meant no Wi-Fi, not even mindless browsing.
The guard lent me a helmet, and I climbed onto the back of Hoài Nhân’s bike. Once we reached the main road, familiar streetlights appeared again. Hoài Nhân rode along the riverside road, lined with food stalls, shops, vendors—anything you could want to eat or drink.
Hoài Nhân asked, “Have you had dinner yet? Wanna eat hotpot?”
I replied, “Not yet. Hotpot’s fine—pick a place.”
He pulled into a spot with tables set right by the riverbank. It was open, breezy, and cool. Eating while watching traffic stream by turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable. Come to think of it, it’d been a long time since someone had taken me out to eat like this.
Even though we’d known each other for a while, Hoài Nhân and I had never really had a conversation longer than ten sentences. Still, there was a quiet mutual fondness between us.
He asked me all sorts of questions—about school, daily life, living arrangements, even relationships. Then suddenly he asked, “Have you ever loved anyone before? I mean, like… a serious relationship.”
I answered, “Yeah. But right now, I’m single.”
He continued, “So… do you want to love someone at this point in your life?”
I replied, “Unfortunately, I’m still in love with someone from the past. Can’t move forward, can’t step back either.”
Hoài Nhân said, “So because of your ex, you won’t give someone new a chance?”
I shook my head, “That’s not quite it. It’s really because of me—and also for the next person.”
He took a sip from his plastic cup, puzzled, “What do you mean?”
I explained, “Still liking my ex is my emotion, so that’s on me—not on them. I know I haven’t let go yet, that I’m still hurt. I don’t want to enter a relationship with a wounded heart. That would be unfair to the next person.”
Hoài Nhân asked softly, “What if there’s someone willing to get hurt for you—would you accept them?”
I gave a faint smile, “Only a selfish person would let someone else get hurt just so they could be happy. I wouldn’t be at peace living like that. I’ll accept someone when I’m ready—not just because I’m lonely.”
Hoài Nhân smiled, gazing off into the distance, “Yeah… I get it. Looking at you, no one would guess you think so maturely.”
I laughed lightly, “You’re flattering me.”
After chatting a bit more, we hopped back on the bike and returned to the dorm. But the power still hadn’t come back. Hoài Nhân parked the bike, while I lingered downstairs in the lobby. He asked, “What’s wrong? You’re not going back to your room?”
I replied, “I’ll sit here until the power’s back. My roommates are all out—probably won’t be back till late.”
I was lying to Hoài Nhân, though I didn’t even know why I did it.
The guard overheard and said from inside, “Nhân, take him up to his room. Just wait a bit—power’ll probably be back soon.”
With the guard pushing things along, Hoài Nhân didn’t hesitate. He gently tugged me upstairs. Along the corridor, the only light came from phone screens, mixed with TikTok sounds looping endlessly. They all had mobile data and were scrolling while waiting for the power to return. I, on the other hand, had nothing to do in my room—except Hoài Nhân.
Outside my room, Hoài Nhân turned on his phone’s flashlight so I could unlock the door. After that, he slipped inside with me. I could confidently say I wasn’t in the mood to fall in love with anyone. But people say, “Men can have sex even without love.” And I was a man too—alone in pitch darkness like this.
Still, I’d already turned him down earlier. Now I could only stay passive.
I felt incredibly awkward. The room had two double beds—was I supposed to sit on separate beds? Who treats a guest that coldly? Or sit on the same bed? In total darkness like this, something was bound to happen. Or should I make an excuse to send him home? I didn’t dare—because I was terrified of ghosts.
In the end, I spread two single mats on the floor, one for each of us. That way, I could “host” him while keeping a safe distance.
I borrowed Ngọc Minh’s pillow and gave my own to Hoài Nhân. We lay there scrolling on our phones. I used his mobile data to kill time, praying the power would come back soon—otherwise something really might happen. But even past eleven, the lights stayed dead. The TikTok sounds from nearby rooms faded as people gave up hope and went to sleep.
Then Hoài Nhân’s phone rang. It was the security guard asking, “Ask Hưng if his roommates are coming back so I can lock the door.”
As expected, the truth came out eventually. Once Hoài Nhân realized I’d be sleeping alone tonight, he hinted about staying over. Anyone could guess how the night would go.
The sky betrayed me—but not Hoài Nhân. Even at midnight, the power was still out. My room was stuffy and airless, sweat running down my body in streams. Beside me, Hoài Nhân had already taken off his shirt and outer shorts. I only dared to remove my shirt and turn my back to him, the oppressive heat making sleep impossible.
When both phones finally died, everything plunged into complete darkness. I vaguely sensed Hoài Nhân shifting closer, his sweat-damp back pressing against mine—half by accident, half on purpose. The heat from our bodies, the existing dampness, was enough to make my cock rock-hard without me doing anything. My underwear was soaked with sweat—and with the pre-cum leaking from the tip.
I lay still, pretending to be asleep. After a while, I felt a cool rush of air—Hoài Nhân had pulled his back away. But then a hand rested on my waist. His thumb braced against my back, the other four fingers on my stomach. His palm was warm and dry, just resting there, doing nothing.
A moment later, Hoài Nhân lay on his side facing me, chest and stomach pressed against my back. One arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. His hand slid up to my chest. We both felt our hearts pounding wildly. His lower body was hard too, pressing against my ass. I had to restrain myself with everything I had not to reach back and grab that massive bulge.
Hoài Nhân obviously knew I was still awake. And my lack of resistance was silent consent. His hand caressed my chest for a while, then slowly moved downward, stopping at the waistband of my shorts. He murmured, “Can I take your pants off for you?”
That gentle, deliberate tenderness was something I hadn’t felt in a long time—warm, shy, disarming. I forgot how I was supposed to react. Taking silence as consent, Hoài Nhân carefully slipped his hand under my waistband, slowly pulled my shorts down, and slid them off my legs. He asked again, “Can I touch… it?”
I didn’t need to answer. The hardness between my legs was answer enough. He stroked my cock through my underwear, especially the tip, already slick with pre-cum. He rested his head on my shoulder, lips kissing my damp bare shoulder. After a while, his hand slipped under my underwear. I sucked in my stomach, letting his hand slide down easily.
He held me gently, no squeezing, no jerking—just cradling me in his palm. Above, his lips traveled across my back, then my neck, nape, hair. The kisses made me even harder. He lifted my cock upward, the tip peeking out over the waistband, then pulled my underwear down and off.
I tensed up, grabbing the waistband, taking a breath and saying, “I can’t give you what you want.”
He replied softly, “I don’t want that. I just want to make you feel good.”
I let go. The underwear slipped away. Hoài Nhân rolled me onto my back, knelt beside me, and took the hard length between my legs into his mouth. He pulled off his own underwear too, freeing the beast that had been caged all this time. He took my hand and placed it on his groin, signaling me to stroke him while he worked enthusiastically on me.
The silent room filled with ragged breaths and muffled moans. He swallowed me into his warm, tight throat, making me tremble with every sound. When he wasn’t sucking me, he focused on my balls, tongue circling them, my cock resting along his face and nose as he inhaled deeply without shame.
Since moving here, this was the first time I’d been touched with such care. He cherished me, valued me, indulged me—making me think of someone else without meaning to. My cock felt both euphoric and numb. I struggled not to cum too soon. Treated like this, of course I had to return the favor.
I pulled his mouth away and whispered, “Is your mouth tired?”
He answered, “As long as you feel good, I’m fine.”
I knew it was a lie—no matter how skilled someone is, ten straight minutes would still tire their jaw. I guided him down to lie back and switched places. In the pitch-black room, he couldn’t see what I was doing and asked, “What are you doing?”
I didn’t answer. I simply took his hard tip into my mouth and sucked gently, using every bit of skill and strength I had.
Hoài Nhân quickly placed a hand on my hair and gasped, “Ah… Hưng… you’re really sucking my cock? Ah… it feels so good…”
He probably never expected me to return the favor at all—that’s why he sounded so shocked. His cock twitched nonstop, his moans deep and muffled, as if something were blocking his mouth.
I reached up and pinched his nipple, and only then realized what was covering his face—my underwear, the one he’d taken off earlier. He’d pulled it over his nose, breathing deeply, letting the scent of my pre-cum and sweat flood his senses.
His body arched repeatedly, not to push into my mouth, but from waves of pleasure crashing over him. His cock was about my size, the head slightly larger than the shaft. The perfect fit let me keep going without tiring, stretching his ecstasy longer and longer. He touched my face, my mouth, my lips—everywhere.
As I sped up, he cried out, “Hưng… slow down… I—I can’t take it… I’m coming… coming… Hưng… ah…”
He tried to push my head away, but I held on until he finished. After seven or eight hard pulses, his body finally relaxed. Then he helped me finish too, sucking and stroking until I came. We collapsed on the floor, exhausted, gasping for air. I asked, “Did you like it?”
He replied, “Do you know what it feels like to get your crush to suck your cock? Because I just experienced it. It’s indescribable.”
I laughed, “Your technique wasn’t bad either.”
He took a deep breath and said, “I know you won’t give me the chance to be your boyfriend. But can you let me take care of you while you’re still living here? I only come by twice a week—you don’t need to feel guilty.”
I asked, “You’re not afraid I’ll take advantage of you?”
He replied calmly, “I’m willing to let you.”
I pushed his shoulder, “Stop it. I’m scared of situations like this.”
He smiled, “Just think of me as an older brother. I don’t expect anything more. Being something undefined with you—being close, taking care of you—is better than dragging you into a relationship and eventually drifting apart.”
I laughed loudly, “You sound like such an old man.”
He pulled me close, kissed my forehead, and said, “Alright then. If you find a new lover in the future—if it’s me, great. If not, that’s fine too. As long as you don’t choose someone who makes you miserable, I’ll be happy. And about those meals—just pay me back with blowjobs.”
We joked around for a while, then fell asleep in each other’s arms without realizing it. Inside me, emotions tangled together—gratitude for his sincerity, guilt for not being able to return his feelings. Well… when things are too complicated to think through, maybe it’s best to leave them to fate. After all, decisions that shape a lifetime can’t be settled in a day or two.