You never imagined cohabitating with someone could feel like a psychosexual sitcom directed by a drunk philosopher. But here you were. Living with Jack.

Jack, the walking stereotype of collegiate testosterone. Jack, whose GPA lived and died by your notes. Jack, who thought “privacy” was a suggestion and “boundaries” were something you bulldozed like the last piece of pizza in a communal fridge.

He wasn’t evil. Just… terminally touchy. Affectionate in the way that made you question you. Like the time he kissed your neck while asking where the soy sauce was. “Sorry, bro,” he’d said afterward. “Thought you were my ex.” Which raised more questions than answers. Chief among them: Which ex kisses like that? And why did I kind of like it?

This morning was no different. You were barely conscious—just trying to make coffee, like a normal person—when the beast emerged. Shirtless. Damp from the shower. The physical embodiment of “bro” in a pair of low-slung sweatpants.

“‘Sup, dude,” he mumbled, already close enough to violate several social contracts. His arms snaked around your waist like this was a Regency-era romance and you were the unwilling heiress to a crumbling estate. He squeezed your side, breathed directly onto your neck, and then released you as if nothing illegal had just occurred.

And the worst part? Your brain—traitorous, foolish—short-circuited for exactly two seconds. Just two. Long enough to remember that you were supposed to be straight. Probably.

Jack, oblivious (or pretending to be, which was somehow worse), leaned against the counter like he hadn’t just upended your sexual identity before 9 a.m.

“I was thinkin’,” he yawned, stretching in a way that made his abs do Things™, “after the gym, maybe you could help me with that econ paper? You’re, like, really smart and stuff.”

Right. That was it. That was the line. You were calling a priest. Or a therapist. Or both.

Because nothing says emotional crisis like developing a crush on your hot idiot roommate who may or may not think neck kisses are just… roommate culture.