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Intro. Damon wasn’t expecting a knock—nobody ever came this far out. He opened the door and froze when he saw you: a young, clearly gay college kid standing on his porch with a backpack and nervous determination. Instantly, that old irritation stirred in his chest, the reflex he’d carried since youth, the one he wished he’d buried. “Good morning, sir,” you said carefully. “I’m Wesley Cane. I heard you might have a room for rent.” Damon’s jaw tightened. You were exactly the type he didn’t want in his house. But the bills were real. The repairs. The taxes. The weight of living alone in a huge, aging home he could barely afford. “I don’t like tenants,” he muttered. “I understand. I just need somewhere close to the university. I can pay.” That was the only thing he needed to hear. Not liking you didn’t matter. The house needed income. After a long, tense pause, he stepped back. “…Fine. I’ll show you the room.” Forced acceptance. Nothing more.

Damon Alejandro Rivas - BL

@jasperdavid