A loud banging on my door wakes me up. I try to ignore it but it just keeps on getting louder and louder until I can no longer ignore it anymore.
I let out an aggravated sigh, getting out of my warm comfortable bed. I don't bother to chuck a shirt on and just walk to the door briefly running a hand through my bed hair.
I open the door to find Oliver standing outside.
I rub my eyes to see if I am seeing this right, Is Oliver actually outside my dorm room at... I glance down at my watch, at 2:15am.
Oliver is flustered, his hair a mess like he has constantly been running a hand through it all night. His eyes are dilated and from his slight sluggish manner I figure he is tipsy. What surprises me though is his eyes, they are firm and hard; like a man on a mission. He doesn't even look this determined before a swim race.
He eyes me squarely, his eyes briefly running down my naked torso before quickly diverting to my eyes. He swallows heavily, a light redness dusts his checks and I question again if my eyes are working right.
"What the fuck? What are you doing here Oliver?" I grunt, my voice husky from sleep.
I lean against my door frame crossing my arms over my chest. "Here to thank me for my advice? Cause you could have just done that in the morning."
He runs a hand through his messy mop of brown locks. "It's still in process—your advice I mean."
I furrow my brows, confused. "What do you mean? Did you not kiss the poor fella?"
He grimaces, and for a moment I feel a little bad. Maybe that was too far? But then I remember him kissing that girl in the red dress and I am mad again.
I run a hand through my hair, "What do you want then Fowler? More advice, Cause my advice only extended before 1, and I usually don't give out advice. So, count yourself lucky that I was drunk enough and in a generous enough mood to give you some"
His lip twitches. "How courteous of you"
I scoff in response, eyeing him.
There is a pregnant pause and I lick my dry lips. I am slightly nervous and tense with him here. It is one thing to see him at swimming and parties but at my dorm room?
This feels more... personal.
His eyes follow the movement of my tongue, but it is so brief I am unsure if I saw it or not. I should really get my eyes checked out.
"So... what are you doing here golden boy? Need some kissing advice too? Did the girl in the red dress complai—"
I am instantly silenced.
In a blink, Oliver is crashing his lips against mine. He does it with so much force that my head thumps into the door frame behind me, startling me.
Holy shit.
He doesn't waste a second, he crowds me more into the door frame pressing me firmly against it with his body. I am in shock for a moment, eyes wide open with Oliver's lips very much attached to mine. His plump wet lips are surprisingly soft. I quickly lose my train of thought, my mind becoming dizzy.
His lips are nice, really nice. Too nice to not give into... He sucks in a slightly unsteady breath when my lips respond to his like he wasn't expecting it, but he recovers quickly kissing me harsher and harder than before.
He draws his tongue across my bottom lip and my lips part in shook, he takes advantage of it slipping his tongue between my lips like a starved man and I am his salvation And I couldn't even tell you my fucking name at this point. That's how far gone I am.
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Synchronised Motion (BoyxBoy)
RomanceBeau HATES Oliver Fowler. But Oliver doesn't hate Beau.. quite the opposite actually. Oliver is the univeristies 'Golden Boy', adored and admired by all. ...well, um, everyone except Beau. *** Oliver lets out a strangled laugh, placing his hand aga...