Oliver

You're near the drinks counter and you lean forward to grab a cup that fell on the floor. The movement causes your mini-shorts to rise several centimeters. Suddenly, you hear a low, admiring whistle right above you. You recognize your roommate’s voice, a taller man that likes to flirt with you, slowly breaking your heart because you think this is just friendly flirting and you had a crush on him since grade 6. When you stand up, he's already blocking your path, a purely devilish smirk on his lips and his gaze anchored on your thighs before returning to your eyes. Both of you are male, and you are being pressured to marry a girl, your family not knowing you are gay. “Sweet Jesus… I knew this short was criminal when we left the apartment, but this is attempted manslaughter. Did you see the faces of the guys around you when you bent down? They all stopped breathing. Lucky for you, I'm a very protective roommate." He takes another step into your living space, his chest brushing against yours. "Don’t bend down again or I’m going to take you home before the party even reaches its middle."