I'm lying on my stomach, trying to reach that goddamn stubborn eraser that I dropped. Of course, it had to roll under the bed, the one place where I can never seem to reach anything. I huff in frustration as I stretch my arm as far as it can go, my fingers brushing against the rough fabric of the rug.

Just as I'm about to give up, you walk in, your black boots making no sound against the wooden floor. "Hey, you wanna go get some coffee or something?" you ask, your voice a low rumble that I've come to love.

But I'm too focused on my current predicament to answer right away. "Uh, yeah, sure," I grunt, trying once again to reach the elusive eraser. But this time, my efforts bear fruit, and I feel it brush against my fingertips.

Victory is mine! Or so I think, until I try to wriggle out from under the bed and realize that I'm stuck. "Fuck," I mutter, trying to push myself out, but only managing to wiggle my ass in the air like some kind of goth worm.

You chuckle, and I can hear the amusement in your voice. "Need some help there, buddy?"

I sigh, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice. "Yeah, if you could, that'd be great."

You move closer, and I can feel your breath on my ass as you grab hold of my hips and pull. With one swift motion, I'm free, and you're on top of me before I know it, your dick pressing against my ass.

"You're such a fucking idiot," you say, but there's no heat in your voice, only amusement.

But then you're kissing me, your lips rough against mine, and I can't help but moan as you grind against me. "Fuck, Roman," I gasp, your name tasting like honey on my tongue.

You pull back, your eyes blazing with desire. "You like that, don't you?"

I nod, unable to find my words. You smirk, and then you're pushing me down onto the floor, your knees on either side of my hips. "You know what I like?" you ask, and I shake my head, too caught up in the moment to answer.

You lean down, your lips brushing against my ear. "I like it when you're helpless," you whisper. "When I can do whatever I want to you."

I shudder, my cock already hard in my jeans. "Please," I beg, not even sure what I'm asking for.

You chuckle, your breath hot against my skin. "Begging already?" you taunt. "I haven't even started yet."

And then you're unbuttoning my jeans, pulling them down past my hips, and I can't help but moan as you take my cock in your hand. "That's it," you murmur, your hand moving up and down my length. "Beg for it."

"Please," I gasp, my hips bucking up into your hand. "Please, Roman."

You lean down, your lips brushing against my ear again. "Please what?"

I swallow hard, my cock throbbing in your hand. "Please, fuck me," I beg. "Please, I need it."

"Since you asked so nicely," you murmur, your hand leaving my cock for a moment before you're pushing inside of me, filling me up in one swift motion.

I cry out, my back arching off the floor as you bottom out inside of me. "Fuck, you feel so good," you groan, your hips moving in slow, deep thrusts that have me seeing stars.

"Fuck, harder," I gasp, my nails digging into your arms.

You chuckle, your lips brushing against my neck. "Patience," you murmur, your hips still moving in those slow, deep thrusts.

But then you're picking up the pace, your hips slapping against mine as you fuck me into the floor. "Yes, yes, yes," I chant, my cock throbbing between us.

"You like that?" you ask, your voice strained.

I nod, unable to find my words. You smirk, your hips moving faster, harder. "Beg for it," you command.

"Please, Roman, please," I gasp, my hips meeting yours thrust for thrust.

And then you're groaning my name, your hips stuttering as you fill me up, your cock twitching inside of me.

I follow soon after, my cum spilling between us, my vision going white as I come harder than I ever have before.

We lay there, panting and spent, our bodies slick with sweat. "You're such a fucking idiot," you murmur, your lips brushing against my neck.

I chuckle, my breathing still labored. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

You don't answer, but you don't need to. I can feel it in the way you hold me, in the way you kiss me, in the way you fuck me.

And as I lay there, your cum leaking out of me and your arms wrapped tightly around me, I can't help but smile.

This is where I belong.

* * *

And that's the story of how I ended up with cum stains on my rug and a satisfied smile on my face.

Of course, I didn't tell you this part, but after we caught our breath, you pulled out of me and took a picture of my cum-stained ass, posting it online with the caption: "Just fucked my goth bf. He's such a slut for my dick."

And as I scroll through the comments, my face flushing at the filthy things they're saying, I can't help but feel a little proud.

After all, it's not every day that you get to be the center of attention, especially when it comes to something as hot and nasty as this.

So I smile, my face hidden in the shadows as I read through the comments, my ass still sore from where you fucked me, my body still humming from the orgasm that rocked through me.

This is what it means to be alive.

This is what it means to be in love.

And as I close my laptop, my body still buzzing from the afterglow, I can't help but feel grateful.