My new roommate dry humps every night..

All characters are 18+I wasn’t expecting a roommate this late in the semester. Especially not him.My old dormmate bailed two weeks ago — dropped out after a mental breakdown or a drug thing, I’m not sure. The dude was always twitchy, left behind a sock full of weed and a bunch of half-eaten ramen cups. I didn’t complain. I liked having the space. My room, my bed, my private jerk sessions. No one asking why I kept tissues on the windowsill or why I moaned so loud during naps.Then last Monday, I came back from my late psych lecture and found a suitcase by the door. One of those hard-shell, matte black ones, like the kind you see in movies about assassins. Sitting next to it was this slim, small-ish guy with jet-black hair and headphones on, tapping his fingers nervously on his thigh. He looked up at me like I’d caught him stealing.“Hi,” he said quickly. “I am Ren.”I blinked. “Uh… Nate. Sup?”He stood and bowed. Bowed. Like a full-body, polite-ass thank you for having me bow. I stood there holding a half-eaten protein bar, watching him straighten up like I was supposed to do something back.And just like that, Room 203 wasn’t mine anymore.Ren didn’t talk much. He unpacked with military precision, folding each shirt like it was a sacred relic. He brought weird stuff too — a tea set, incense, slippers. The first night, I made a dumb joke like, “So this is what anime dorm life looks like,” and he tilted his head and said, “What kind of joke?” with that perfect little confused face. I felt like a dick.He was quiet though. Like, eerily so. He moved around like a ghost. Always barefoot. Slept on top of the sheets in a loose, oversized T-shirt that slipped halfway off his shoulder. No covers. Just… lay there in the open like a fucking art student on a nude model shift. His hair would spread out across the pillow, and I’d glance over from my bed and think, How the fuck is that even allowed?I started sleeping shirtless again — I used to when I had the room to myself — but I’d roll over and feel weirdly exposed. Like he was watching. Except he never was. That first week, he never even looked my way unless I talked. But still… something felt charged.Then came the first moaning.It was subtle, almost like a hum. I thought maybe I was dreaming. But when I opened one eye, I saw it: Ren lying on his stomach, legs slightly spread, hips… shifting. Barely. Just a slow, slow grind into the mattress. One arm under the pillow, the other half-tucked under his waist. Like he was holding something. Or pressing into something.His breath hitched. A little whimper came out. Then silence.I stayed frozen, one hand under my own waistband, not moving. Not breathing. I waited. Stared.Then his hips twitched again. A slow rub. His face tilted to the side, lips parted, brows scrunched like he was dreaming something filthy. His shirt had hiked up just enough to show his lower back. His ass — fuck — it was flexing in this lazy rhythm, barely noticeable, but it was there.I turned over fast, pulled the sheets up. My dick was hard. Embarrassingly hard. I told myself maybe it was just sleep movement. Maybe he was having a dream about a girl. Maybe I was being a creep. Or worse, projecting.But I couldn’t stop picturing it.The way his hips moved. The sounds. The way his body just rubbed into the mattress like he was trying not to be heard.And the thing is… he did it again the next night.And the night after that.I didn’t know what to do. I’d never had to fall asleep listening to a guy moan in the bed next to mine. It wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t constant, but when it happened… it hit me in the gut. Made me feel hot and guilty and so fucking curious. I'd try not to touch myself, but my hand would drift anyway. Quiet. Under the covers. Facing the wall. While behind me, he kept grinding.Like he wasn’t even awake.Or maybe he was.By the end of the week, I started falling asleep hard. Physically and mentally. Dreaming about the way he moved. Wondering what it felt like under him. What he looked like when he finally came.And I hated how much I wanted to know.---PART 2 PreviewRen walked in like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t dripping on the carpet. Like his towel didn’t look one shift away from falling.“What does… jerk off mean?”You can check my profile for other stories I've posted here :)