Blake Hart
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Roomies in Arms - Part 1
🕑 Added 2025-05-25 16:00:12 +0000 UTCHey everyone! You voted, and Step Bros came out on top—so I’ve put together this spin-off just for you. It’s also part of the wider Boys of Blake Universe (BBU). I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think in the comments, and if you're excited for Part 2, which drops this Tuesday!
Everyone in this story is 18+
I stared up at the building. It looked like someone had tried to gentrify a tech bro's Craigslist ad using sheer willpower and duct tape. One of the windows had a piece of cardboard duct-taped into the frame. Charming. Gritty and real. Exactly what I was going for.
I adjusted the collar of my slightly-too-expensive hoodie. College kids had nice clothes sometimes, didn’t they? I took a breath that tasted like city grime and fresh-start delusion, and climbed the stairs.
The door to the unit was half-open, of course. No one had answered when I knocked. I tried once more—nothing.
"Hello?" I called, stepping inside.
Silence.
Well, not silence exactly.
There was a faint slurrrp of noodles. A mechanical clack clack clack. Something electronic pinged. And the unmistakable hiss of a Red Bull can being cracked open while something was already steaming.
I followed the sounds of regret down the short hallway and turned into what must’ve been the main room.
That’s when I saw him.
Slouched in a squeaky office chair like a raccoon king on a digital throne, wearing anime boxers, half a headset, and one fuzzy sock, was a guy hunched in front of four glowing monitors. Every screen was chaos—lines of code, anime, Discord notifications, a browser window labeled “Hentai but make it justice.zip.”
He didn’t look up. He just slurped another mouthful of ramen and, I swear to God, tipped a mug of coffee directly into a Red Bull can and drank it like he was trying to die tastefully.
I cleared my throat.
No response.
I took another cautious step. “Hi—uh. No one answered the door. Are you... my new roommate?”
He froze. Very slowly turned in his chair.
His eyes were bloodshot and his hair stuck up like he’d been electrocuted and liked it. There was a faint streak of chili powder on his cheek. He looked at me like I’d just broken into his lair. Or his porn dungeon.
He blinked, once. “You’re the Sebastian?”
I hesitated. “Yes, Sebastian… Blacksmith. From… Devon, England.”
He grinned.
“Damn. You’re, like, clean and English, that’s cool. I love Harry Potter. I’m Lex, by the way.”
“I—I shower.”
“Tragic,” he muttered, turning back to his screen. “We’ll fix that.”
I had no idea what that meant.
But I did know this: If this was real life, I might’ve just made a horrible mistake. And if this was freedom? It came with no pants, bad ramen, and a man who apparently coded like a demon and smelled faintly of lube, MSG, and something gunpowder-y that I couldn’t quite say if I liked or not.
My parents would most definitely hate him, but that didn’t make me less intrigued, in fact, quite the opposite.
God, I think I was going to love it here or die trying, probably the latter.
Lex spoke again, mid-keystroke. “Two more roommates coming later today. Should be fun. More souls to torment.”
I blinked. “You’re expecting more?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s a four-person lease. You’re number two. They’re number three and four.”
“Oh. Right. Yes. Of course.” I fiddled with my sleeve. “Exciting.”
Lex smirked at something on one of his screens. “The last guys left after, like, two months. Said something about questionable hygiene, ambient anime, and me being half-feral. I don’t get it personally though.”
“Oh dear,” I muttered.
Lex laughed, loud and sudden.
I jumped.
He didn’t apologize. Just kept typing.
And I stood there, in a too-nice hoodie and a haze of clean linen cologne, wondering if this was the beginning of a breakdown—or possibly something else entirely.
Lex stretched, cracking his back like a folding chair under emotional pressure, and stood up. In the process, half a forkful of noodles escaped his bowl and hit the floor with a wet slap. He glanced down, picked it up, and ate it without hesitation.
I tried not to flinch. I failed.
As he turned, I caught a full view of his anime boxers—bright pink, low-slung, and emblazoned across the back in glittery block letters: "Booty.exe."
I very much did not look. And yet, I also did.
Lex was—somehow—handsome.
Not in the conventional way. More in the "looks like he got electrocuted in a Hot Topic clearance bin but survived and thrived" kind of way. His hair defied gravity in all directions, his stubble looked like he grew it out of spite, and yet... he had abs. Not gym-earned abs—genetic betrayal abs. Slightly pale. But I was paler. Unfortunately.
The bulge in his boxers, however... looked genuinely dangerous. I swallowed. Probably from fear. Or mild fascination. Or shame. Yes, let’s go with shame.
Lex popped open a can of yerba mate.
"Oh, dear," I muttered involuntarily. "I hope you don’t go into cardiac arrest."
"Nah," he said, sipping like it was holy nectar. "This is just part two of breakfast."
He wiped his hand on his thigh—his bare thigh—and stretched again.
"Alright, Sebby," he said, without hesitation. "Let’s give you the grand tour."
"Oh—I—actually, it’s Sebastian—"
"Cool. Sebby it is."
And that was that.
He showed me the kitchen ("That burner doesn’t work unless you hit it first"), the bathroom ("If it clogs, just use the Plunger of Destiny. It’s got googly eyes"), and the common space ("We don’t clean. We rearrange the mess").
Just as he was about to show me where the laundry machines were allegedly haunted, the door opened.
Two guys stepped in.
The first one was tall, tan, all casual charisma with messy golden-brown hair and a grin that said "I know I’m hot, and I might help you move your furniture anyway."
The second was shorter, leaner, and sharper around the edges. Dark hair, killer cheekbones, an attitude that looked like it could slice you open or make you moan.
"Hey," the taller one said. "I’m Jax. This is my boyfriend, Nick. Seems like we’re moving in."
Nick smiled politely, “I hope you don’t have problems with that? We just wanted to be upfront about us being together.
Lex gave a thumbs up. "Cool. I’m bi myself. Or hentaisexual. Or basically anything-goes kind of guy. So, no judgment from me. I don’t know about Seb—the haunted Victorian twink over here—but he seems kinda cool and is definitely loaded, so I like him."
I opened and closed my mouth like a malfunctioning AI assistant. "Oh, my. I’m. I… I’m not—or yes. I don’t mind homosexuals. Or yes. That sounded terribly judgmental. What I meant was—"
Jax just laughed and threw an arm around me, warm and casual. He smelled like cologne, sunshine, and recklessness.
"Don’t worry, Seb. You seem cool. And I’m newly turned myself, you could say. This fucker turned me good recently," he said, jerking his thumb at Nick.
"That’s lovely," I muttered. "I mean. Well. I’m not really gay. Or—there was that one... Never mind. I’m also not that wealthy. I just come across that way because of boarding school."
Lex snorted. "Okay, Harry Potter, calm down before you need to reboot."
Jax grinned. "Yeah, I mean—college is a great way to figure shit out."
He kissed his boyfriend, tongue and all. Casually. Like it was nothing. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Lex scratched his balls.
I very deliberately looked at the ceiling and thought about tea and then it occurred to me:
I wasn’t really gay. Or maybe I was just slightly gay-adjacent. Or selectively curious. Or deeply, deeply repressed in a monogrammed sweater.
God heavens, I was either going to survive this year, fall in love, or commit a misdemeanor. Possibly all three.
