Your Roommate n his Dad

BZZ BZZ. A message from Siggy.

“Hey, come here! I need help defeating a boss. Oh, and, like… you can sleep here again if you want.”

In the past few weeks, Siggy had been inviting you to his house almost every day—always with excuses like ‘playing videogames’ or ‘hanging out.’ But the frequency and the awkward way he insisted made it clear there was something more going on. From being roommates, you became close friends, and now… well, whatever this was, it was getting harder to ignore.

After a restless night in the suffocating heat of the dorm, the idea of spending time at Siggy’s air-conditioned house was impossible to resist. A quick shower was all it took before heading out—adjusting your clothes and even fixing your horns, as if there was someone to impress, even though you knew Siggy probably wouldn’t notice.

As you walked through the sunlit streets, thoughts oscillated between what you should say and do when you arrived. Should you let things happen naturally? Or maybe it was time to take a bolder step? Those thoughts vanished the moment you turned the corner and saw Siggy’s house.

The house was small but full of charm. The well-kept garden, vibrant flowers, and perfectly trimmed grass gave the impression that someone there cared deeply about their surroundings. The elegant gate and inviting facade made the place feel safe, almost like a sanctuary.

You rang the doorbell, the soft buzz echoing in the still air. Before you could even lower your hand, the gate creaked open. But it wasn’t Siggy who greeted you.

Instead, Sigmund towered before you, his powerful frame filling the doorway. Red and orange scales shimmered in the sunlight like living flames, his imposing figure both intimidating and mesmerizing. His horns were sharp and angular, his beard perfectly trimmed, and his sharp amber eyes seemed to linger on you, scanning every detail of your presence with a knowing gaze.

"Ah, you must be my boy's roommate," Sigmund said, his deep, rich voice carrying both warmth and something unspoken. He leaned against the gate, the casual motion only emphasizing his muscular frame, the black tank top barely containing his broad chest. "Siggy talks about you all the time. You must be a saint to deal with him."

Before you could respond, Siggy’s voice called out from inside.

“Dad! Don’t scare them off! Let them in already!”

Sigmund chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made the air feel heavier. "Alright, alright. Come on in."

He stepped aside, motioning for you to enter, but his presence didn’t waver. His warmth seemed to fill the narrow hallway as he followed you inside, his eyes still tracing your movements like he was committing them to memory.

Siggy was already in his room, sprawled out on the absurdly large bed that dominated the space. His blue jacket was open, revealing a tuft of fur on his chest and the lean muscle beneath his scales. Controllers and cables were scattered around the room.

“You made it!” Siggy grinned, bounding off the bed to pull you into one of his signature hugs—tight, crushing, and all-encompassing. “I’ve been stuck on this stupid boss for days. You’re gonna beat it for me, right?”

Before you could answer, Sigmund’s voice cut through the moment.

“I’m staying in here, by the way. Don’t let me interrupt your ‘gaming.’”

Both you and Siggy froze, turning toward the doorway where Sigmund leaned casually, his powerful arms crossed. He raised a brow, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Siggy groaned, his tail swishing behind him in frustration.

“Seriously, Dad? You don’t have anything better to do?”

“Nope.” Sigmund’s tone was teasing, but there was an undertone of something else. His amber eyes flicked between you and Siggy, lingering on you just long enough to make your pulse quicken. He stepped further into the room, his massive presence making the space feel smaller, more intimate.

Siggy flopped back onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh, muttering under his breath. But Sigmund stayed by the door, leaning against the wall with that same smirk. The weight of his gaze made your skin prickle, and the air felt charged, heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

Siggy, oblivious to the growing tension, patted the bed next to him. “Come on, sit here with me! We’ve got a boss to crush.”

You hesitated, feeling Sigmund’s eyes on you as you crossed the room. Sitting next to Siggy, you tried to focus on the controller in your hands, but the heat radiating from both of them was impossible to ignore. Siggy leaned closer, his excitement bubbling over as he pointed at the screen, his tail brushing lightly against your leg. Meanwhile, Sigmund’s deep voice interrupted again.

“So, are you any good at this game? Or is Siggy just hoping for a miracle?”

There was a teasing edge to his tone, but his eyes said something else entirely. The way he stood there, arms crossed and muscles shifting with every small movement, made it impossible to concentrate. You felt caught between them—Siggy’s playful energy and Sigmund’s intense, magnetic presence.

The room buzzed with unspoken tension, every glance, every casual brush of a tail or arm carrying more weight than it should. Siggy nudged you playfully, his grin wide and inviting, while Sigmund’s gaze burned into you from across the room, making you feel like prey caught between two predators.

As the game progressed, the lighthearted teasing from both of them blurred into something more. Siggy’s laugh was infectious, his closeness intoxicating, but every time you glanced toward Sigmund, his smirk deepened, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

And maybe he did. After all, like father, like son… both stunning, both irresistibly magnetic, but each with their own unique pull. Siggy’s warmth was undeniable, his energy playful and chaotic, but Sigmund… Sigmund carried a weight, a confidence that filled every corner of the room. You couldn’t help but wonder how this night would end—with the father, the son… or maybe both.