PART 1
Hi, I’m Justin. I’m 26, and I guess you could say I’m pretty disciplined when it comes to my lifestyle. I stay active with a mix of weightlifting and running, which has helped me maintain a lean, muscular build. I’ve got fair skin and light brown hair that I keep neatly styled—it just feels like part of who I am. I wear glasses, and I think they soften my sharper features a bit, making me seem a little more approachable. My eyes are blue, and people tell me I always look focused like I’m always analyzing the world around me. I try to carry myself with confidence, but I’ll admit there’s a part of me that’s naturally reserved—it’s just how I’ve always been.
You know that moment when you realize your life is the perfect balance of chaos and calm? That’s me and Emilio. We share a two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment in the middle of Downtown Miami—a place that’s just big enough to live in but small enough to make you question your personal space every now and then. Not that I mind. Emilio’s been my best friend for three years, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ve laughed as much in my entire life as I have since we met.
We have a good arrangement. It's easy, comfortable, and maybe a little unconventional. For starters, we usually spend our time at home in just our boxers, often cuddling on the couch, watching movies, listening to music, drinking beers, and sometimes Emilio falls asleep in my bed. He doesn't know I'm bisexual because I keep it on the down low. Even though he’s extremely attractive, I’ve never felt any romantic feelings towards him, and it's probably because I had a girlfriend when we met.
Emilio is a 27-year-old Mexican man with a striking athletic build that reflects his dedication to fitness. His smooth, golden-brown skin glows under natural light, complementing his sharp jawline and expressive dark brown eyes. His short, thick black hair is always neatly styled, giving him a polished yet effortless look. Emilio’s toned physique, especially his sculpted abs and broad shoulders, is the result of years of playing soccer and working out—a passion he has had since childhood. His confident posture and relaxed demeanor make him magnetic.
Lately, ever since my breakup with my girlfriend, I’ve been experiencing some unexpected feelings. There's something about his smile that lingers, especially when he playfully teases me. His laughter seems to resonate deep within me, bringing a warmth I didn’t anticipate. And when he walks into the room, shirtless and with damp hair from the shower, I can’t help but feel my heart race. I try to brush it off, telling myself it’s just a natural reaction to spending so much time with someone who seems perfect. It feels like he’s awakening a part of me that I try to put to rest when I'm around him.
The mornings in our apartment always had a certain cadence to them. The kind of rhythm that felt unspoken, like an unintentional routine we’d fallen into over the years. This morning was no different. The hum of the coffee maker filled the quiet space, the smell of freshly brewed coffee slowly spreading through the kitchen. I stood there, leaning against the counter in my boxers, a warm mug in my hands, waiting for the caffeine to kickstart my day. The sunlight poured through the window above the sink, highlighting the faint scratches on the countertop and the clutter Emilio had left behind—an empty cereal bowl, his protein shaker, and a half-eaten banana. Typical.
I sighed, picking up the bowl and rinsing it out. It wasn’t that I minded cleaning up after him—it was just… Emilio. He had this way of leaving little pieces of himself everywhere he went, like he was marking his territory. The couch always had one of his hoodies draped over the back. The bathroom sink was perpetually crowded with his hair products. And the kitchen always bore evidence of his hurried breakfast before his morning run.
“Morning, sunshine,” came a voice from behind me, startling me out of my thoughts.
I turned to see Emilio standing in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction and a lazy grin on his face. He wore only a pair of black boxer briefs, his bulge prominently visible. His tanned skin glistened with sweat from his workout. He had that post-run glow—flushed cheeks, tousled hair, and a smugness that came from knowing he had accomplished more before 8 a.m. than most people would in an entire day.
“Morning,” I muttered, grabbing my coffee and taking a sip. “You’re dripping sweat all over the floor.”
He shrugged, unapologetic as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet. “Adds character to the place.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. That was Emilio for you—carefree and completely unbothered by the mess he left in his wake. It was infuriating. And, somehow, endearing.
He leaned against the counter, gulping down water like he’d just crossed the Sahara. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and I found myself staring a little too long at the way his abs tensed with every movement. I quickly looked away, focusing on my coffee like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“You’re up early,” he said, his voice still a little hoarse from the run. “Big day at work?”
“Something like that,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. The truth was, I’d woken up early because my dick was hard as a rock; I masturbated. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.
He smirked like he could see right through me. “You’re such a mystery, bro. Always so fucking serious.”
“And you’re always so annoying,” I shot back, but there was no bite to my words. This was how we were—constant banter, a never-ending game of who could get under the other’s skin first.
Emilio laughed, that warm, easy sound that always seemed to fill the room. “You love it.”
I didn’t respond, taking another sip of my coffee instead. Because the truth was, he was right. I did love it. I loved the way he could make me laugh even when I didn’t want to. I loved the way he brought a kind of chaos into my life that I hadn’t realized I needed. And I hated that I loved it so much.
“Anyway,” he said, setting his glass down and stretching his arms over his head. “I’m about to take a shower. Try not to miss me too much.”
“Don’t slip and fall,” I called after him as he disappeared down the hallway, his laughter echoing behind him.
After Emilio went to take a shower, I stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, finishing the last sip of my coffee. After rinsing out Emilio’s cereal bowl—because apparently, cleaning up after himself is too much work for him—and decided to get ready for the day. You know, normal stuff. Emilio was already in the shower, and I figured I’d just pop in, grab my toothbrush, and brush my teeth while he finished up. We’ve shared the bathroom a million times before. No big deal.
But the second I opened the door, I knew I’d made a mistake.
The room was warm, filled with steam and the smell of his body wash—sandalwood and citrus, because Emilio’s bougie like that. The mirror was fogged up, and the sound of water hitting the tile filled the space. I wasn’t even thinking about it. I just walked in, grabbed my toothbrush, and started squeezing toothpaste onto it.
And then I saw him.
The shower curtain wasn’t fully closed—there was this small gap near the edge. And through it, I could see Emilio. He was standing under the water, one hand against the wall, and the other, stroking his massive cock.
I froze. Like, completely froze. My brain short-circuited. I didn’t even realize I was staring until it was too late. But how could I not? The guy’s built like a Greek god, and there he was, completely naked, water dripping down his chest, abs flexing with
every movement. His hand jerking his girthy 8-inch uncut cock with purpose.
My heart pounded in my chest as I watched, transfixed. A part of me wanted to bolt, to pretend I hadn't stumbled upon this intimate moment. But another part, a darker, more curious part, urged me to stay. Before I could rationalize further, Emilio let out a low groan, his hips bucking slightly as he continued to stroke himself.
Emilio's thick, veiny shaft glistened with droplets of water, each pulse of his hand sending ripples along its length. The foreskin clung tightly to the head, creating an obscene bulge at the base. As he pumped faster, the skin began to pull back, revealing a glimpse of the swollen, reddish-purple crown beneath.
His balls, heavy and loose, swung freely with each thrust of his hips. They were hairless, smooth as marble, and seemed to draw my attention like magnets. I found myself wondering what they would feel like in my palm, weighed down with pent-up semen...
Emilio's breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he neared climax. And then—because, of course, this is my life—he opened his eyes.
For a split second, neither of us moved. It was like time stopped, and all I could think was, *Oh, shit.* Then Emilio turned his head slightly, and I swear, the smirk on his face was almost instant. He didn’t even look embarrassed—just surprised and then amused.
“Bro!” he laughed, pulling the shower curtain closed with one hand while trying to cover himself with the other. “What the fuck? Get out of here!”
And that’s when my brain finally decided to start working again. “Shit—sorry!” I blurted out, my voice cracking like I was a teenager again. I spun around so fast I nearly dropped my toothbrush, fumbled with the doorknob like an idiot, and slammed the door shut behind me.
I stood there in the hallway, my back pressed against the door, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. My face was on fire, and I could still hear Emilio laughing from the other side of the door.
“Dude, you could’ve knocked!” he called out, his voice muffled by the running water and the door between us.
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “I didn’t know you were… I wasn’t trying to—ugh, forget it!” I shouted back, my voice cracking again. Great. Real smooth, Justin.
And, of course, Emilio just kept laughing. “Relax, man! It’s not like you haven’t seen my dick before!”
I wanted to die. Right there, in the hallway. I have only seen his dick on soft before, but now I know he's definitely a grower, not a shower. Just bury me six feet under and let the earth swallow me whole. I muttered something under my breath—probably a string of curses—and stormed back to my room. I tossed my toothbrush onto my dresser and sat down on the edge of my bed, burying my face in my hands.
I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I mean, how do you come back from that? How do you look your best friend in the eye after walking in on him jerking off in the shower? And why the hell hadn’t I just looked away the second I saw him? Why had I frozen like some kind of idiot?
And the worst part? I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head. The way the water had glistened on his skin, the way his muscles tensed with every movement, the way his cock slightly had a downward curve, it was fucking massive. It was burned into my brain, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it.
I groaned again, flopping back onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. This was going to be a long day. I was trying to will my brain to think about literally anything else. But it wasn’t working. My heart was still racing from the awkwardness of the whole situation, and I could still hear the faint sound of the shower running.
A few minutes later, I heard the bathroom door open, followed by the sound of Emilio’s footsteps coming down the hall. I sat up quickly, pretending to be busy with my phone. I didn’t want him to think I was still dwelling on what had just happened.
“Bro,” Emilio said, his voice filled with amusement as he walked into my room, towel wrapped loosely around his waist, water dripping from his hair onto the floor. “You caught me jacking my dick! How long were you standing there?”
I looked up at him and forced a laugh, trying to play it cool. “Not long! I mean, it wasn’t like I was… I just walked in to grab my toothbrush. I didn’t know you’d—uh—be doing that.”
He smirked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “It looked like you froze, bro. Like, completely froze. You okay?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to brush it off. “I was just surprised, alright? I'm sure you already know your dick isn't small. And It’s not every day you walk in on your best friend… you know.”
Emilio laughed, shaking his head. “Relax, bro, it’s not a big deal. We’ve seen each other naked before.”
“Yeah, I know, but not with our dicks rock fucking hard,” I said quickly, feeling my face heat up again. “But maybe next time, close the shower curtain all the way or something. Just saying.”
He burst into laughter, clearly enjoying how flustered I was. “Noted. But seriously, Justin, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. It was hilarious. I’m never letting you live this down.”
“Of course you’re not,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “You’re going to bring this up every chance you get, aren’t you?”
“Oh, 100%,” he said with a laugh, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to my dresser to grab a shirt he’d left there earlier. “The look on your face was priceless. You’ll be hearing about this for years.”
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Great. Whatever, asshole.”
Emilio chuckled as he pulled the shirt over his head, still dripping water onto the floor. “Hey, at least you didn’t walk in on me while shooting my load. Could’ve been way more awkward.”
I threw a pillow at him, and he dodged it easily, laughing as he headed for the door. “Alright, I’m gonna go finish getting ready. Try not to walk in on me again, yeah?”
"Fuck you, Emilio," I shouted, laughing as he disappeared down the hallway.
As soon as he was gone, I let out a long sigh and ran a hand over my face. Leave it to Emilio to turn an embarrassing moment for him into ine for me instead. I could already tell this wasn’t the last I’d hear about it. But at least he wasn’t mad or weird about it. If anything, he seemed to find the whole thing funny.
Shaking my head as I got up from the bed. I needed to get ready for work and put this whole awkward morning behind me. I rummaged through my dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of boxers and some clothes for the day. As I started changing, I heard Emilio’s voice echo down the hall.
“Oh shit, look at Justin‘s that fat ass!” he teased, his voice dripping with mock admiration.
I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. “Shut up, Emilio. You’re obsessed.”
“What can I say? You make it hard not to notice,” he called back, laughing. This kind of banter wasn’t unusual for us. We’d been friends so long that teasing each other over stupid stuff was practically second nature.
I finished pulling on my clothes and walked out of my room, grabbing my bag on the way. Emilio was leaning casually against the wall, scrolling through his phone, still in his towel. He glanced up as I passed and smirked. “Bye, Justin. Take your fine ass to work.”
I snorted, shaking my head as I headed toward the front door. “Bye, Emilio. Take your ass back to your room and put some clothes on before you traumatize the neighbors.”
He laughed, pushing off the wall and heading back toward his room. “Alright, bro. I’ll see you later. I'm off today, so I guess I'll restock the fridge.”
“Okay, bro, I’ll see you later,” I said over my shoulder, stepping outside and closing the door behind me.
As I walked to my car, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. I climbed inside, started the engine, and took a deep breath. It was time to focus on the day ahead and leave the chaos of the morning behind—at least until I come back home.
Hi, I’m Justin. I’m 26, and I guess you could say I’m pretty disciplined when it comes to my lifestyle. I stay active with a mix of weightlifting and running, which has helped me maintain a lean, muscular build. I’ve got fair skin and light brown hair that I keep neatly styled—it just feels like part of who I am. I wear glasses, and I think they soften my sharper features a bit, making me seem a little more approachable. My eyes are blue, and people tell me I always look focused like I’m always analyzing the world around me. I try to carry myself with confidence, but I’ll admit there’s a part of me that’s naturally reserved—it’s just how I’ve always been.
You know that moment when you realize your life is the perfect balance of chaos and calm? That’s me and Emilio. We share a two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment in the middle of Downtown Miami—a place that’s just big enough to live in but small enough to make you question your personal space every now and then. Not that I mind. Emilio’s been my best friend for three years, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ve laughed as much in my entire life as I have since we met.
We have a good arrangement. It's easy, comfortable, and maybe a little unconventional. For starters, we usually spend our time at home in just our boxers, often cuddling on the couch, watching movies, listening to music, drinking beers, and sometimes Emilio falls asleep in my bed. He doesn't know I'm bisexual because I keep it on the down low. Even though he’s extremely attractive, I’ve never felt any romantic feelings towards him, and it's probably because I had a girlfriend when we met.
Emilio is a 27-year-old Mexican man with a striking athletic build that reflects his dedication to fitness. His smooth, golden-brown skin glows under natural light, complementing his sharp jawline and expressive dark brown eyes. His short, thick black hair is always neatly styled, giving him a polished yet effortless look. Emilio’s toned physique, especially his sculpted abs and broad shoulders, is the result of years of playing soccer and working out—a passion he has had since childhood. His confident posture and relaxed demeanor make him magnetic.
Lately, ever since my breakup with my girlfriend, I’ve been experiencing some unexpected feelings. There's something about his smile that lingers, especially when he playfully teases me. His laughter seems to resonate deep within me, bringing a warmth I didn’t anticipate. And when he walks into the room, shirtless and with damp hair from the shower, I can’t help but feel my heart race. I try to brush it off, telling myself it’s just a natural reaction to spending so much time with someone who seems perfect. It feels like he’s awakening a part of me that I try to put to rest when I'm around him.
The mornings in our apartment always had a certain cadence to them. The kind of rhythm that felt unspoken, like an unintentional routine we’d fallen into over the years. This morning was no different. The hum of the coffee maker filled the quiet space, the smell of freshly brewed coffee slowly spreading through the kitchen. I stood there, leaning against the counter in my boxers, a warm mug in my hands, waiting for the caffeine to kickstart my day. The sunlight poured through the window above the sink, highlighting the faint scratches on the countertop and the clutter Emilio had left behind—an empty cereal bowl, his protein shaker, and a half-eaten banana. Typical.
I sighed, picking up the bowl and rinsing it out. It wasn’t that I minded cleaning up after him—it was just… Emilio. He had this way of leaving little pieces of himself everywhere he went, like he was marking his territory. The couch always had one of his hoodies draped over the back. The bathroom sink was perpetually crowded with his hair products. And the kitchen always bore evidence of his hurried breakfast before his morning run.
“Morning, sunshine,” came a voice from behind me, startling me out of my thoughts.
I turned to see Emilio standing in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction and a lazy grin on his face. He wore only a pair of black boxer briefs, his bulge prominently visible. His tanned skin glistened with sweat from his workout. He had that post-run glow—flushed cheeks, tousled hair, and a smugness that came from knowing he had accomplished more before 8 a.m. than most people would in an entire day.
“Morning,” I muttered, grabbing my coffee and taking a sip. “You’re dripping sweat all over the floor.”
He shrugged, unapologetic as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet. “Adds character to the place.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. That was Emilio for you—carefree and completely unbothered by the mess he left in his wake. It was infuriating. And, somehow, endearing.
He leaned against the counter, gulping down water like he’d just crossed the Sahara. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and I found myself staring a little too long at the way his abs tensed with every movement. I quickly looked away, focusing on my coffee like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“You’re up early,” he said, his voice still a little hoarse from the run. “Big day at work?”
“Something like that,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. The truth was, I’d woken up early because my dick was hard as a rock; I masturbated. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.
He smirked like he could see right through me. “You’re such a mystery, bro. Always so fucking serious.”
“And you’re always so annoying,” I shot back, but there was no bite to my words. This was how we were—constant banter, a never-ending game of who could get under the other’s skin first.
Emilio laughed, that warm, easy sound that always seemed to fill the room. “You love it.”
I didn’t respond, taking another sip of my coffee instead. Because the truth was, he was right. I did love it. I loved the way he could make me laugh even when I didn’t want to. I loved the way he brought a kind of chaos into my life that I hadn’t realized I needed. And I hated that I loved it so much.
“Anyway,” he said, setting his glass down and stretching his arms over his head. “I’m about to take a shower. Try not to miss me too much.”
“Don’t slip and fall,” I called after him as he disappeared down the hallway, his laughter echoing behind him.
After Emilio went to take a shower, I stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, finishing the last sip of my coffee. After rinsing out Emilio’s cereal bowl—because apparently, cleaning up after himself is too much work for him—and decided to get ready for the day. You know, normal stuff. Emilio was already in the shower, and I figured I’d just pop in, grab my toothbrush, and brush my teeth while he finished up. We’ve shared the bathroom a million times before. No big deal.
But the second I opened the door, I knew I’d made a mistake.
The room was warm, filled with steam and the smell of his body wash—sandalwood and citrus, because Emilio’s bougie like that. The mirror was fogged up, and the sound of water hitting the tile filled the space. I wasn’t even thinking about it. I just walked in, grabbed my toothbrush, and started squeezing toothpaste onto it.
And then I saw him.
The shower curtain wasn’t fully closed—there was this small gap near the edge. And through it, I could see Emilio. He was standing under the water, one hand against the wall, and the other, stroking his massive cock.
I froze. Like, completely froze. My brain short-circuited. I didn’t even realize I was staring until it was too late. But how could I not? The guy’s built like a Greek god, and there he was, completely naked, water dripping down his chest, abs flexing with
every movement. His hand jerking his girthy 8-inch uncut cock with purpose.
My heart pounded in my chest as I watched, transfixed. A part of me wanted to bolt, to pretend I hadn't stumbled upon this intimate moment. But another part, a darker, more curious part, urged me to stay. Before I could rationalize further, Emilio let out a low groan, his hips bucking slightly as he continued to stroke himself.
Emilio's thick, veiny shaft glistened with droplets of water, each pulse of his hand sending ripples along its length. The foreskin clung tightly to the head, creating an obscene bulge at the base. As he pumped faster, the skin began to pull back, revealing a glimpse of the swollen, reddish-purple crown beneath.
His balls, heavy and loose, swung freely with each thrust of his hips. They were hairless, smooth as marble, and seemed to draw my attention like magnets. I found myself wondering what they would feel like in my palm, weighed down with pent-up semen...
Emilio's breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he neared climax. And then—because, of course, this is my life—he opened his eyes.
For a split second, neither of us moved. It was like time stopped, and all I could think was, *Oh, shit.* Then Emilio turned his head slightly, and I swear, the smirk on his face was almost instant. He didn’t even look embarrassed—just surprised and then amused.
“Bro!” he laughed, pulling the shower curtain closed with one hand while trying to cover himself with the other. “What the fuck? Get out of here!”
And that’s when my brain finally decided to start working again. “Shit—sorry!” I blurted out, my voice cracking like I was a teenager again. I spun around so fast I nearly dropped my toothbrush, fumbled with the doorknob like an idiot, and slammed the door shut behind me.
I stood there in the hallway, my back pressed against the door, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. My face was on fire, and I could still hear Emilio laughing from the other side of the door.
“Dude, you could’ve knocked!” he called out, his voice muffled by the running water and the door between us.
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “I didn’t know you were… I wasn’t trying to—ugh, forget it!” I shouted back, my voice cracking again. Great. Real smooth, Justin.
And, of course, Emilio just kept laughing. “Relax, man! It’s not like you haven’t seen my dick before!”
I wanted to die. Right there, in the hallway. I have only seen his dick on soft before, but now I know he's definitely a grower, not a shower. Just bury me six feet under and let the earth swallow me whole. I muttered something under my breath—probably a string of curses—and stormed back to my room. I tossed my toothbrush onto my dresser and sat down on the edge of my bed, burying my face in my hands.
I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I mean, how do you come back from that? How do you look your best friend in the eye after walking in on him jerking off in the shower? And why the hell hadn’t I just looked away the second I saw him? Why had I frozen like some kind of idiot?
And the worst part? I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head. The way the water had glistened on his skin, the way his muscles tensed with every movement, the way his cock slightly had a downward curve, it was fucking massive. It was burned into my brain, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it.
I groaned again, flopping back onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. This was going to be a long day. I was trying to will my brain to think about literally anything else. But it wasn’t working. My heart was still racing from the awkwardness of the whole situation, and I could still hear the faint sound of the shower running.
A few minutes later, I heard the bathroom door open, followed by the sound of Emilio’s footsteps coming down the hall. I sat up quickly, pretending to be busy with my phone. I didn’t want him to think I was still dwelling on what had just happened.
“Bro,” Emilio said, his voice filled with amusement as he walked into my room, towel wrapped loosely around his waist, water dripping from his hair onto the floor. “You caught me jacking my dick! How long were you standing there?”
I looked up at him and forced a laugh, trying to play it cool. “Not long! I mean, it wasn’t like I was… I just walked in to grab my toothbrush. I didn’t know you’d—uh—be doing that.”
He smirked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “It looked like you froze, bro. Like, completely froze. You okay?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to brush it off. “I was just surprised, alright? I'm sure you already know your dick isn't small. And It’s not every day you walk in on your best friend… you know.”
Emilio laughed, shaking his head. “Relax, bro, it’s not a big deal. We’ve seen each other naked before.”
“Yeah, I know, but not with our dicks rock fucking hard,” I said quickly, feeling my face heat up again. “But maybe next time, close the shower curtain all the way or something. Just saying.”
He burst into laughter, clearly enjoying how flustered I was. “Noted. But seriously, Justin, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. It was hilarious. I’m never letting you live this down.”
“Of course you’re not,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “You’re going to bring this up every chance you get, aren’t you?”
“Oh, 100%,” he said with a laugh, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to my dresser to grab a shirt he’d left there earlier. “The look on your face was priceless. You’ll be hearing about this for years.”
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Great. Whatever, asshole.”
Emilio chuckled as he pulled the shirt over his head, still dripping water onto the floor. “Hey, at least you didn’t walk in on me while shooting my load. Could’ve been way more awkward.”
I threw a pillow at him, and he dodged it easily, laughing as he headed for the door. “Alright, I’m gonna go finish getting ready. Try not to walk in on me again, yeah?”
"Fuck you, Emilio," I shouted, laughing as he disappeared down the hallway.
As soon as he was gone, I let out a long sigh and ran a hand over my face. Leave it to Emilio to turn an embarrassing moment for him into ine for me instead. I could already tell this wasn’t the last I’d hear about it. But at least he wasn’t mad or weird about it. If anything, he seemed to find the whole thing funny.
Shaking my head as I got up from the bed. I needed to get ready for work and put this whole awkward morning behind me. I rummaged through my dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of boxers and some clothes for the day. As I started changing, I heard Emilio’s voice echo down the hall.
“Oh shit, look at Justin‘s that fat ass!” he teased, his voice dripping with mock admiration.
I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. “Shut up, Emilio. You’re obsessed.”
“What can I say? You make it hard not to notice,” he called back, laughing. This kind of banter wasn’t unusual for us. We’d been friends so long that teasing each other over stupid stuff was practically second nature.
I finished pulling on my clothes and walked out of my room, grabbing my bag on the way. Emilio was leaning casually against the wall, scrolling through his phone, still in his towel. He glanced up as I passed and smirked. “Bye, Justin. Take your fine ass to work.”
I snorted, shaking my head as I headed toward the front door. “Bye, Emilio. Take your ass back to your room and put some clothes on before you traumatize the neighbors.”
He laughed, pushing off the wall and heading back toward his room. “Alright, bro. I’ll see you later. I'm off today, so I guess I'll restock the fridge.”
“Okay, bro, I’ll see you later,” I said over my shoulder, stepping outside and closing the door behind me.
As I walked to my car, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. I climbed inside, started the engine, and took a deep breath. It was time to focus on the day ahead and leave the chaos of the morning behind—at least until I come back home.
