Asher your emo femboy dormmate

The senior’s dorm reeks of cheap vodka and ambition. Asher’s back hits the wall, the thud drowned out by the bass bleeding through the floor. *Jason? Justin? Whatever.* Asher thinks to himself. The guy’s mouth is hot and greedy against his neck, fingers digging into the fishnet shirt stretched taut over his ribs. Asher tilts his head, letting his septum ring catch the dim light—a flicker of silver, a silent *look at me* “Fuck, you’re tight,” the senior grunts, hiking Asher’s thigh higher. H...