Greg returned to his room an hour later, leaving the privacy of the tree and the fantasy world for the reality of school and his new roommate. The room was lit by a single bedside lamp and in the dim light Greg could see the evidence of Mycroft's unpacking. A neatly filled but groaning bookshelf above the desk, the books all seemed to be University grade texts on politics and economics. A neatly paired and highly polished pair of shoes next to the whitest pair of trainers Greg had ever seen in the shoe rack. The desk itself was set out neatly with an old fashioned desk blotter, with a set of expensive fountain pens and a very expensive looking, and obviously brand new, laptop.

Greg compared this to his own side of the room, his uniform in a heap on the floor, his bed hastily made, a pile of books abandoned on the desk. He made a mental note to tidy up. But his attention was caught in the half light by the sleeping form of Mycroft Holmes.

The other boy was lying on top of the covers of his bed, not a surprise really as it was a warm night. However what was surprising was Mycroft's choice of night attire, dark blue silk boxer shorts. Not the old fashioned baggy pyjamas Greg would have bet a week's allowance that Mycroft wore. The shorts were a close fit, emphasising the outline of Mycroft's cock. The very same cock that Greg had spent the previous hour imagining and describing in his head. Now it was in front of him. The reality was better than the fantasy. If anything it was a lot bigger than Greg had dared fantasise about.

Greg took a deep breath to steady himself taking in the rest of his roommate as he did. Mycroft was, as he has guessed, a well built young man, his body almost but not quite adult and for someone who had professed to having no real interest in sports his frame was remarkably well muscled. There was a distinct quantity of hair covering his chest and belly, trailing down beyond the low slung waistband of the blue boxers, darkening as it went. Greg licked his lips, feeling his cock pushing against the buttons of his fly.

"Are you in the habit of staring at people Gregory?" Mycroft kept his eyes closed and his breathing easy.

"Sorry. No. Wasn't expecting you here." The excuse was pathetically transparent.

"Really?" Mycroft opened his eyes and rolled over on to his side. Greg was trying not to look at him, or to think about him, or the outline of whatever had just bulged and changed direction in Mycroft's shorts. "You weren't expecting to find your roommate in your room? Oh do at least try." He gave Greg a broad, rather sardonic grin.

"Shower. I'm going for a shower."

"That might be a good idea. How long are you going to be? In the shower that is."

"Sorry? What?" Greg grabbed his towel and shower gel from the pile of stuff he had yet to put away.

"Well, since you came bursting in here and woke me up with your thinking I seem to have a rather uncomfortable problem. So I am intending to masturbate."

"What?!"

"In terms you might understand: I'm going to have a wank. I have a very active libido and I won't be able to sleep unless I ejaculate. I merely want to know how long you will be in the shower so I know how long I have."

Greg was speechless. He looked at the reclining figure and then at the alarm clock. Then back at Mycroft.

"Unless of course you want to stay and watch?" Mycroft stroked the tightening crotch of his shorts with one hand and drummed the fingers of his other hand on the mattress, as if trying to get Greg to make up his mind.

"Hey, don't flatter yourself. I'm straight!" Greg told himself if he said it enough times it would be true.

"Of course you are." Mycroft had stood up and was only a few feet away from Greg now, taller than Greg by five inches, broader, probably stronger. "So why don't you run along to your shower and leave me in peace for fifteen minutes. And Gregory, for someone who thinks they are straight, your August copy of Rugby world is rather sticky." He was standing inches away from Greg now. If Greg were to take a step forward the large bulging erection in Mycroft Holmes' boxer shorts would be poking Greg in the belly button. Just one step forward was all Greg needed to make fantasy into reality.

He turned and fled to the showers.

The hot water cascaded over him. It was probably a little too hot, but he didn't really mind. The steam helped him to think. What was going on? Was it a case of mutual attraction? How did Mycroft know what Greg was thinking? He had a feeling that Mycroft Holmes was playing with him. He squirted shower gel into his hands and rubbed it into his hair, washing his spikes flat. He shut his eyes to stop the soap getting into them, and found that the image of Mycroft and his blue boxers was sprayed over the inside of his eyelids. Greg was so preoccupied with trying to flush the image from his head, he didn't hear the door to the shower room open.

A hand on his shoulder made him open his eyes quickly. The touch was gentle but still made him jump. He thought about screaming. Calling for help. He blinked the soap from his eyes and found himself facing the fully naked and dripping wet figure of Mycroft Holmes.

"I'm sorry." Was Mycroft apologising for making Greg jump?

"What are you doing? I'll shout for help."

"Shout then." Mycroft seemed different, as though the water and soap had washed away some of his arrogance.

Greg looked down. Mycroft's erection was inches away from him, every bit as long and thick as he had imagined it. His own erection looked rather pathetic by comparison.

"Blimey. Were you a horse in a previous life or something?" Mycroft grinned. A genuine smile. And then he blushed and stroked a wet hand down the side of Greg's face, caressing his jaw line with a gentle thumb. Mycroft stepped a little closer to Greg, closing the few inch gap, stooping a little, the blunt tip of his cock pushing between Greg's legs until he was forced to straddle Mycroft's length. The bigger boy stood up again and pressed Greg into the wall of the shower and Greg found his own hardness pushing into Mycroft's soft flesh.

The feeling was unbelievable as the water continued to rain down on them. The solid meat between his thighs pushing gently back and forth, slick with soapy water. His legs wrapping around Mycroft, his cock digging into the other boy's fleshy belly. The feeling of strength and power radiating between them. And Greg suddenly found himself spilling over Mycroft and then Mycroft's knee buckling and Greg feeling a flood of warmth between his thighs that had nothing to do with the shower, and the both of them on the floor, in a soup of water and soap and cum.

They finished the shower in silence. Mycroft left first wrapping himself in a dark blue bath robe and leaving damp footprints up the corridor. Greg followed a few minutes later. When he got back to the room, Mycroft was already asleep.