C.W. Nudity, Sexual Content, Discrimination

When Lucas returned to his apartment, he quickly undressed and stepped into the shower. He needed to clear his mind, freshen up, and eat something before tackling the stack of papers waiting to be graded.  

Lucas often battled insomnia, lying awake for hours each night. Perhaps the lingering shadows of his childhood traumas haunted him more than he cared to admit. He told himself those days were behind him, but they always seemed to resurface at night. Outwardly, he appeared confident, cold, and composed, yet beneath the surface, he feared taking risks and reaching for more in life.  

As the warm water cascaded over his body, his thoughts drifted to the custodian. He could still feel the warmth of Sergio’s hand in his, see his earnest smile, the way he tied his hair back, blushed, or laughed awkwardly. These tender memories stirred something in Lucas, making his breath catch. A deep shiver ran through him as pleasure began to take hold. His gaze lowered, and his hand instinctively moved to his growing desire.

“What am I doing?” he thought, clenching his jaw as he wrestled with himself.  

He swallowed hard, his breaths quickening as his hand gave in to the rhythm of his yearning. If only he’d been braver, he could have asked Sergio to meet again in a more private, intimate setting —perhaps the next day or whenever the freckled man was free. Lucas longed to share more of himself, hoping their casual conversations might lead Sergio to open up and reveal the truth about his identity.  

But as his arousal built, so did his doubts. Does Sergio even like men? Would it be wrong to ask him out?

“C-could we… meet on Sunday, S-Sergio?” he whispered to himself, his fingers controlling that part of his body that drove him crazy, moving to the rhythm of those desires. His body tensed, his hand moving faster as his ecstasy overtook him. He braced himself against the shower wall, his breathing ragged, until his release left him trembling.  

When it was over, he rested his forehead against the tile, his breaths gradually slowing.  

“W-why am I thinking of him like this?” he muttered, shaking his head. But then another thought soothed his guilt. “It’s okay for now if we’re just friends. I can’t commit to anything if I can’t even get my own act together.” 

Lucas feared that pursuing Sergio while still grappling with his own insecurities would only drive him away.  

Meanwhile, Sergio was busy cleaning a hallway. His thoughts, however, were far from his work. He couldn’t stop thinking about Lucas, realizing with a mix of anxiety and excitement that he was falling for him.  

But doubt clouded his feelings. What could I even say to him? he wondered. If he finds out I’m his childhood friend, he’ll feel disappointed… or worse, he’ll blame himself. 

Sergio thought of the portrait he’d drawn of Lucas, and a self-deprecating laugh escaped him. “I'm acting like a love-struck teenager,” he thought. “I’m 32. I should know better.”

At 1 a.m., before going to bed, he decided it was time for a radical change in his appearance. He took a deep breath, counted to ten, and trimmed his beard, leaving just a bit of facial hair. It had been years since he’d cared about his appearance, but this change wasn’t for Lucas —it was for himself.  

Looking at his reflection, he vowed to embrace his natural hair color, deciding never to dye it again. Cleaning was an honest job, and attending various professors’ classes had reignited his determination to study, boosting his self-worth.  

**

The next morning, Lucas arrived early at the faculty lounge. His students were preparing a presentation for him, and while reviewing his notes, he glanced out the window. There, near the library, he spotted Sergio sweeping the pavement.  

His eyes widened at Sergio’s new look. Whether he had fully shaved or just trimmed his beard, the change suited him. The professor found himself smiling discreetly, quietly admiring his effort to take better care of himself. It was a subtle yet meaningful step forward, and he couldn’t help but feel proud.  

Suddenly, a group of students walked past Sergio, their loud voices and boisterous laughter echoing across the courtyard. One of them deliberately dropped a chip bag onto the ground, casting a fleeting glance toward the custodian, as if daring him to react. Without hesitation —and without even realizing the slight— Sergio bent down, picked up the trash, and tossed it into a nearby bin.  

Watching from a distance, Lucas’s blood boiled. He recognized the group immediately —they were his students. The casual disrespect they had shown to someone so hardworking enraged him.  

Later that day, during their presentation, the professor let his anger simmer beneath a calm but cutting demeanor. He interrupted them with a barrage of challenging questions, his tone sharp and unrelenting.  

“You don’t understand the concept of abuse of power, do you? If you can’t grasp something so basic from your law textbooks, perhaps you should pursue another career,” he declared, glaring at them like a merciless dictator.  

His words were intimidating. By the time the presentation ended, he had given them the lowest grade possible, leaving the students visibly shaken. None of them had anticipated such severity from their professor.  

Lucas, however, said nothing of this encounter to Sergio. Later that day, when their paths crossed again, the professor greeted the custodian warmly, as though nothing had happened.