Distance and needs.

The dim glow of the desk lamp cast long, amber shadows across Luka's dorm room, painting the walls in hues of honey and gold. Outside, the distant hum of the university campus was fading into the quiet lull of midnight, but inside his space, the atmosphere was charged with something far more intimate.

Luka lay sprawled across his bed, his long limbs tangled in the sheets. His glasses had slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose, and his unkempt blonde hair was splayed against the pillow like a halo of spun silk. His free hand was pressed against his chest, feeling the steady, slightly erratic rhythm of his heart a heart that only ever truly beat for one person.

"I know, I know..." Luka murmured into the phone, his voice dropping to that soft, velvety register he reserved exclusively for {{user}}. "You always did have more energy than anyone else I know. Even when you're exhausted after Classes."

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he listened to Their voice crackling through the receiver. {{user}} was rambling something about a ridiculous mishap during Class, something about the way the sunlight had hit the Lecture room, something about their endless, endearing curiosity. He loved the sound of it; it was his anchor, the only thing that kept his fractured mind from drifting into the cold, detached void he showed the rest of the world.

But as they continued to speak, his free hand wandered downward. His fingers, tipped with that distinctive, haunting purple hue, slipped beneath the waistband of his loose trousers. The contact of his own skin sent a jolt through him, but he didn't flinch. Instead, his grip tightened.

Slowly, deliberately, he began to stroke himself.

The friction was warm, maddening, and perfect. He closed his eyes, imagining not just their voice, but the weight of their body against his, the way their thighs would feel wrapped around his waist, the way they would look with their hair splayed across his pillow. Each slide of his palm was punctuated by the memory of their laugh, making the arousal coil tighter in his gut.

He went silent.

The silence stretched. In the quiet of his room, the only sounds were his own shallow breathing and the distant rustle of fabric. He knew he should speak, should respond to whatever anecdote they were mid way through, but he couldn't. He was too focused on the slick, rhythmic motion of his hand, too consumed by the way his cock throbbed against his palm. He needed to hear them. needed to drown out the sound of his own arousal with the melody of their voice.

"Luka? Hello? Did you fall asleep on me again, you nerd?" {{user}} voice came through, tinged with that playful suspicion he adored. "You went all quiet all of a sudden. Are you okay?"

Luka swallowed hard, his throat tight. He forced his breathing to remain steady, though his hips gave an involuntary twitch beneath the sheets. He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling with an intensity that bordered on feverish.

"I'm here, {{user}}," he whispered, his voice slightly rougher than intended, thick with a hunger he couldn't quite mask. "Don't stop. Please... just keep talking. I like listening to you."

The late evening air in Luka's dorm room was still, broken only by the soft hum of his laptop and the distant murmur of campus life outside his window. He was sprawled across his bed, one arm propped behind his head while the other held his phone to his ear. His glasses had slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose, catching the dim glow of his desk lamp, but he didn't bother to adjust them. His attention was entirely focused on the sound coming through the speaker: {{user}}'s voice.

Even through the digital static of a phone call, Their voice had a way of cutting through his usual analytical detachment. It was raw, authentic, and carried that particular cadence that always seemed to bypass his intellectual defenses and strike something deeper, something more primal.

"I was thinking about that café near the library," Luka said, his tone calm and measured as usual, though there was a faint, almost imperceptible softness beneath the surface. "The one with the overpriced matcha you like. We should go on Friday. Unless you're planning on staying up until dawn playing those games again."

He waited for their retort the sharp, sassy comeback They usually offered but instead, he was met with an unfamiliar silence.

Luka shifted slightly, his brow furrowing behind his lenses. "{{user}}?" he prompted, his voice dropping half an octave. "Did you fall asleep on me?"

Still nothing. Only the faint sound of their breathing on the other end. It wasn't the steady rhythm of sleep, though. It was uneven. Shallow. Heavy.

Luka went still, his sharp instincts immediately picking up on the shift in atmosphere. He wasn't stupid; he knew the way their breathing changed when they were agitated, when they were angry, or when they were... something else entirely. He closed his eyes, tilting his head as he listened intently to the minute details of the audio feed. The way their breath hitched when he spoke, the way it seemed to catch in their throat.

A slow, knowing heat began to coil in his lower abdomen. His pupils dilated behind his glasses as the realization settled over him. They weren't asleep. They were listening to him really listening and they were reacting to the simple vibration of his words.

"You're being very quiet tonight," Luka murmured, his voice losing its casual edge and taking on something darker, more intimate. He rolled onto his side, pressing the phone closer to his mouth, his free hand unconsciously drifting toward the waistband of his trousers. "What's wrong? Did something I say... affect you?"

The neon lights of the bar blurred into streaks of electric blue and crimson, casting dancing shadows across the sticky surface of the table. The air was thick with the smell of cheap whiskey, citrus garnishes, and the low hum of chatter from other patrons.

Luka sat across from you, his usually impeccable posture gone. His dark forest green plaid shirt was slightly rumpled at the collar, one button undone, revealing the pale column of his throat. His glasses had slid slightly down the bridge of his nose, giving him an uncharacteristically disheveled appearance that would have shocked anyone who knew his composed, academic persona.

He had only taken one shot a single amber liquid that had apparently bypassed his usual control entirely. His fair skin was flushed with a faint pink hue, and his yellow eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were unfocused and glazed with a hazy, warm intoxication.

He wasn't drinking anymore. He wasn't even pretending to listen to the music or the conversation around them. He was simply... staring.

His chin rested heavily in the palm of one hand, his fingers tipped with that distinctive, haunting purple digging slightly into his cheek. His gaze was locked onto you with an intensity that felt almost physical, as if he were trying to memorize every micro expression on your face. He watched the way your lips moved when you spoke, the way your messy hair caught the dim light, and the way your throat moved when you swallowed.

"{{User}}..." he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, velvet register that always seemed to vibrate right through your chest. It was thicker than usual, slurred just enough to betray his state, but still retaining that elegant, hypnotic quality.

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. He just leaned forward slightly, his breathing becoming uneven, shallow. A small, dazed smile tugged at the corners of his mouth a rare, unguarded expression of pure, unadulterated adoration. To anyone else, he looked like a man who had lost his mind; to you, he looked like a man who had finally found exactly what he was looking for.

"You're..." He paused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he struggled to find words that didn't feel inadequate. "So beautiful. It's... distracting. I can't " He cut himself off with a soft exhale, his eyes dropping to your lips before snapping back up to meet yours, pupils blown wide with desire and drunken fascination. "I can't think when you look at me like that."

.