My Roommate Seduced Me Without a Word

“Welcome to your new home,” Rubén said as we climbed the stairs and reached the landing. “The others are waiting for you.”

Daniel could barely manage the backpack over his shoulder and two suitcases in his hands. The trip from Almería had been endless, with two transfers and an interminable wait at an intermediate station. The university offer in Granada had dragged him to that fourth-floor apartment in the very center, with no elevator, and the mere thought of throwing himself onto the bed that would be his for the entire academic year seemed like a promise of paradise. He had spoken to Rubén on the phone several times to arrange the rent, expenses, and the rest of the shared-apartment formalities.

“Everyone here is great,” Rubén added. “You’ll like them.”

It was his first time living with strangers, and all he hoped for was not to run into any drama. The hallway opened onto a narrow living room, with a sunken sofa and a low table covered in magazines. A girl and a guy were waiting for him there.

“Hi, I’m Carla,” she introduced herself, offering him her hand. “Nice to meet you. And this is Jihoon.”

Daniel was initially surprised that there was only one girl among three guys. Rubén had already warned him over the phone that she didn’t mind and that everyone’s space was respected in the apartment. Carla moved with the ease of someone who was in charge without making it obvious. As for Jihoon, Daniel noticed his Korean features, his black hair gathered in a lock over his forehead, and a pair of thick-framed glasses that covered half his face. Jihoon made a series of quick gestures with his hands, and Daniel frowned.

“He’s welcoming you,” Carla translated.

“Is he deaf?”

“Mute. I’m the only one here who knows how to interpret him. This other lazy bastard”—she added, pointing at Rubén with her thumb—“is too lazy to learn sign language.”

“I have a very busy life,” he protested.

“Yeah, right.”

Daniel burst out laughing. He liked the atmosphere. Jihoon also seemed to laugh in his own way: he winked at him from behind his glasses.

“If he ever has something important to tell you, I’ll translate,” Carla promised. “But he doesn’t talk much either, irony intended.”

“Got it.”

“Come on, I’ll show you your room,” Rubén cut in.

***

The first impression had been excellent, and Daniel settled in with surprising speed. By the second week, he had internalized the shower schedule, knew which refrigerator drawer was his, and had learned which café on the corner sold the coffee Carla liked. Only two things gave him trouble. The first was the kitchen, a tiny room that turned into a game of Tetris whenever two people tried to cook at the same time. The second was Jihoon.

When Carla was home, the Korean barely paid any attention to him. Daniel would meet his gaze in the hallway and, at most, receive a distant, almost formal nod. But in the afternoons, when Carla went to the bar where she worked or stayed at the library, Jihoon changed. He would approach him in the hallway, give him a sequence of rapid gestures, and then simply continue on his way with a crooked smile.

“I don’t understand you,” Daniel repeated, frustrated.

But the guy didn’t insist. The next day, Daniel would try to reproduce the signs in front of Carla, so clumsily that they were complete gibberish.

“I don’t know. It looks like he’s trying to tell you something, but what you’re doing is terrible mimicry. I’ll ask him tonight.”

And the answer was always the same:

“He says yes, he tried to communicate with you, but he hasn’t told me what it was about.”

“He’s making fun of you,” Rubén interjected one day. “He does it to me too. He thinks it’s funny that we don’t know how to sign. He’s harmless.”

“But I don’t make fun of him.”

“Relax, it’s not because of that. If it were something important, he’d have said so already. The good thing about being mute,” Carla commented, amused, “is that he keeps secrets like nobody else.”

***

On Friday of the fourth week, Daniel got home after eleven. Carla was covering the closing shift at her bar. Rubén had gone out for drinks with some friends from college and wasn’t expected back until dawn. He assumed Jihoon would be in his room.

He went in quietly and slipped into his bedroom. He liked sleeping naked, so he stripped completely and put on only a pair of sweatpants, with nothing underneath, to go to the bathroom. It felt liberating to feel his skin free again after a day in jeans and shoes. His roommates had never said anything about it, and he doubted they had noticed.

He was finishing rinsing his mouth when three knocks sounded on the door. The house rule was to knock before entering, because the latch had been broken since before he arrived and the landlord still hadn’t sent anyone to fix it. Daniel spat and answered:

“Occupied. I’ll be out in a moment.”

The door opened anyway. Jihoon entered, closed it behind him, and stood in the middle of the small bathroom. He was wearing nothing but slippers and pajama pants. His torso, thin and very pale, contrasted with the blackness of his hair, glasses, and eyes. Daniel looked at him, not knowing what to do.

“What do you want?”

Jihoon pointed to himself, made a gesture as if pinching his throat, and then pointed at Daniel with his index finger. He repeated the sequence.

“I still don’t understand you. Carla isn’t here.”

The Korean pulled an annoyed face. He stepped forward and, without any further warning, kissed him on the mouth. Daniel froze, the cool dampness of that other man's saliva still fresh on his lips. Jihoon repeated the throat gesture and pointed at him again. This time Daniel watched the other man’s lips, which seemed to be shaping a sentence.

“Do you… like me?”

Jihoon nodded.

“Really?”

Another affirmative nod. Then he pressed himself against him, torso to torso, and stole a second kiss, this time with his tongue thrust all the way in, searching Daniel’s palate, twining with his as if he had spent weeks rehearsing that attack in silence.

Daniel found the situation equally absurd and arousing. His cock began to grow as their hairless bodies rubbed together. With no underwear to hold it in place, the bulge beneath the sweatpants was impossible to hide: the fabric rose in an obscene pull, outlining every inch of the glans. Jihoon noticed immediately. He lowered his hand and felt the fabric as though gauging the weight of something new, squeezed it, measured its thickness with his fingers, moved up to the tip, and pressed there, where a small damp spot of precum was already taking shape.

“Do you want to see it?”

He nodded, eyes fixed on the bulge.

Daniel yanked down his pants. His cock sprang out hard and heavy, bouncing against his own belly before settling, pointing toward the ceiling. The other man’s eyes widened behind his glasses; he took a step back and covered half his face with his free hand, as if he had just seen something that frightened and hungry him at the same time.

“If it scares you, we can stop,” he offered, trying to make it sound like a joke.

He started to pull his sweatpants back up. Jihoon shook his head so emphatically that his glasses shifted, and his cold hand closed around Daniel’s cock before the pants reached his knees. The Korean’s temperature was completely different from his own, and the contrast raised gooseflesh all the way to his shoulders. He squeezed him with all five fingers just below the glans and began pumping slowly, unhurriedly, pulling the foreskin back to leave the head bare and shining, then covering it again, setting a rhythm that drew Daniel’s first growl from his chest. With his thumb, he gathered the drop of pre-ejaculate that appeared at the meatus and brought it to his mouth, sucking his finger with his eyes closed as if tasting honey.

Jihoon, more determined than he had appeared, slipped out of his pajamas in a single movement. He had a very slender body, almost adolescent in its thinness but unmistakably that of an adult man, with an average-sized cock that rose at a sharp angle, emerging from a thick, black bush of hair that stood out against his almost translucent skin. His balls hung taut, small and tight, already loaded. Without wasting time, he knelt on the cold tiles and took Daniel’s entire cock into his mouth, all the way down, without gagging, until his nose disappeared into the pubic hair.

A long moan escaped Daniel. This couldn’t be the same Jihoon from the hallways, the one who never directed so much as a gesture at him when there were witnesses. His tongue moved with a skill that didn’t fit his daytime silence: he licked the glans in circles as if it were a candy, sucked it just right, alternated rhythms, pulled the whole cock from his mouth to spit a strand of saliva over it and then swallow it down again in one motion. Then he learned another, even more devastating trick: he moved his head in one direction and his hand in the opposite. A slow, tight, saliva-soaked twist that threatened to drain him in a few seconds. With his other hand he grabbed Daniel’s balls, weighed them, and pulled them down with a firmness that made his thighs tremble. And whenever he sensed Daniel was getting too close, he pulled the cock out, rubbed it over his face, cheek, and forehead, deliberately smearing himself with saliva and precum, then went back to sucking lower down, where the shaft joined the testicles, where the skin was thinner and burned at the touch of any tongue.

He sucked his balls too, one at a time, taking each completely into his mouth and letting his tongue work the seam. Then, without warning, he turned Daniel around against the sink and spread his buttocks with both hands. Daniel felt the Korean’s hot, pointed tongue sinking between his cheeks, searching for his hole, wetting it, pushing inside with an obscene insistence that made him let out a moan so loud he feared it could be heard all the way out in the street. Jihoon ate his ass for a long minute, spitting, sucking, pushing his tongue in as far as he could, while his hand kept stroking Daniel’s cock in front.

“Stop,” Daniel panted. “Stop, fuck, I’m going to come in your fucking mouth.”

Jihoon obeyed on the second attempt and returned to a gentler suck, barely taking the tip between his lips. He looked up from below, his gaze bright and mocking behind his glasses, the lenses speckled with his own saliva. Daniel wondered how many others had received that treatment before him.

“Where did you learn that?”

The Korean merely smiled, a thread of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth to the glans. Carla was right. Mute people kept the best secrets.

***

Jihoon stood up and, without letting go of his cock, gently tugged it as though it were an improvised leash. Daniel understood. They opened the bathroom door and crossed the dark hallway in silence, the Korean pulling him by his cock, until they reached Daniel’s room. He closed the door behind them. Jihoon was already positioning himself against the bed, kneeling at the edge, chest resting on the mattress and ass raised in the air, offering himself, spreading his own cheeks with both hands so Daniel could see his small, pink, shiny hole, still glistening with saliva from before.

“Wait,” Daniel murmured. “Let me do it.”

He hadn’t brought anyone back to the apartment yet, but just in case, he kept lubricant in the top drawer of his nightstand. He coated his cock well, from top to bottom, until the shaft gleamed all over, then poured a generous stream into the other man’s crack. He inserted one finger first, slowly, up to the knuckle. Jihoon squeezed his eyes shut and drew a sharp breath through his nose, but pushed his ass back, asking for more. He inserted a second finger and scissored them, feeling the hole give way inch by inch. He added a third, and the Korean bit down on the sheet.

“I’m going in,” he warned, though he knew he didn’t need to speak.

He pressed the glans against the entrance and pushed. The tip worked its way in with a slow slide, and Jihoon exhaled at length, soundlessly, as his body truly opened around him. It was small, much tighter than he could have expected, and Daniel struggled not to lose his head on the first thrust. He pushed in halfway, withdrew, and pushed again, a little deeper each time, until his hips struck the Korean’s buttocks and he felt them vibrate with the impact.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he whispered. “You’re milking my cock, you bastard.”

For lack of words, Jihoon purred. The vibration rose from his chest; he growled without a voice, moving his ass in small circles and impaling himself on the cock every time Daniel made as if to pull out. He bit the pillow, turned his head to seek Daniel’s mouth, and ran his hands over his thighs and balls, which struck against his perineum with every thrust. A slow pasodoble between hips and kisses, in a room lit only by the yellowish glow from the inner courtyard.

Daniel grabbed him by the hip with one hand and the shoulder with the other, and began fucking him harder, setting the rhythm, driving all the way in and pulling out until only the glans remained inside, then plunging back in. Each thrust made the lubricant splash wetly from the Korean’s ass, while a muffled pant rose from his chest, making Daniel’s cock even harder, if that was possible.

That tiny torso couldn’t stay on its knees for long. Jihoon slowly melted and ended up falling forward, facedown, legs spread and feet dangling over the edge. Daniel climbed on behind him, let his full weight fall, drove his cock in to the root, and began riding him like that, crushing him against the mattress, fucking him with short, deep thrusts, knocking his pubic bone against the other man’s ass with a dry, rhythmic sound. Every movement drew a vibration from the Korean’s chest that never became a sound and nevertheless electrified him more than any conventional moan.

“Giving up already?” he asked, smiling and panting over the nape of his neck.

Jihoon answered by raising his ass as much as the position allowed. He wasn’t giving up; he was making Daniel work for it. Daniel straightened, braced his knees on either side of that body that was almost childlike in its thinness, and thrust harder, deeper, faster, grabbing the lock of hair and pulling his head back. Jihoon’s mouth opened wide, but no sound left it. That image—a perfectly articulated silent scream, drool hanging from his lip and his glasses crooked—was what finally broke Daniel’s resistance.

He turned him over. He wanted to look him in the face while he finished. He lifted his legs, rested them on his shoulders, folded the Korean in half, and thrust into him again in one clean stroke. In that position, with the angle changed, his cock went even deeper, and Jihoon’s, flattened against his own belly, began spurting precum with every impact, drawing an expanding wet spot above his navel.

“I’m going to come,” Daniel grunted. “Tell me where. Show me, fuck.”

Jihoon brought two fingers to his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and pointed to it. Then he pointed to his face.

Daniel pulled out in time, knelt astride the Korean’s chest, and took care of the final stretch with his hand, jerking off a foot from his face. Jihoon stuck out his tongue as far as he could, closed his eyes, and waited. Daniel clenched his teeth, sped up his fist, and exploded. The first jet landed right on his tongue, a thick, hot lash that spilled down his chin. The second painted his lips and chin. The third, more treacherous, shot higher than expected, and a drop landed on the Korean’s left glasses lens. The fourth and fifth spilled across his neck, in a thick pool that ran down to his collarbone.

Jihoon remained still, tongue out, swallowing what had fallen into his mouth, while he brought one hand to his own cock and jerked himself off quickly and fiercely, his wrist moving at full speed. He came a few seconds later, in two short spurts that stained his belly and chest, mixing with the other man’s cum. His whole body trembled in a silent spasm.

“Sorry about your glasses,” Daniel panted, trying not to laugh.

Jihoon smiled. He took them off, licked the lens with the tip of his tongue as if it were whipped cream, ran two fingers over his neck to gather the rest of the semen, and put them in his mouth while keeping his eyes fixed on Daniel. Then he left the glasses on the nightstand.

***

Daniel woke the next morning with the light from the courtyard coming through the half-lowered blinds. Jihoon was still there, asleep on his chest, breathing softly. They must have fallen asleep at some point. The sheets covered them only halfway, their clothes were scattered across the bathroom floor and hallway, and activity was beginning to be heard on the other side of the door.

“Rubén!” Carla called. “Do you know where Jihoon is?”

“Isn’t he in his room?”

“I just looked. It’s very strange.”

“What about the bathroom?”

Pause. Footsteps.

“There’s no one here. And whose clothes are these on the floor?”

“Ask Daniel. He got in late last night.”

Daniel didn’t move. It would have been useless to disguise anything with his roommate asleep on top of him. Besides, he didn’t want to wake him. He looked absurdly peaceful, almost innocent, with his glasses still on the nightstand and a barely visible crust of dried semen at the corner of his lips. Carla knocked softly on his door and, without waiting for an answer, poked her head through the opening. She saw the scene, opened her eyes wide for an instant, and then broke into a broad grin. Daniel put a finger to his lips and silently mouthed: “I’ll tell you later.”

Carla let out an amused snort, nodded, and slowly closed the door. Daniel shut his eyes and settled more comfortably against the Korean. For once, we didn’t need words.