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Language:
English
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Published:
2025-03-26
Words:
589
Chapters:
1/1
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8
Kudos:
51
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boys will be boys

Summary:

"y'know in the military... you and your bros just sit in a room together and jack off."

-

Winston Churchil! 😱

Work Text:

"y'know in the military... you and your bros just sit in a room together and jack off."

the room was enveloped in darkness, the overhead lights extinguished, leaving only the faint glow of streetlamps filtering through the grimy window. it created a muted ambiance, where shadows danced and stretched along the walls. but everything felt fine; neither complained about the oppressive darkness, and it wasn’t as if anyone needed to see anything clearly anyway.

sitting next to cal, andre felt a rush of warmth as cal chuckled, his breath teasingly brushing against andre's ear. “just think of something that turns you on or pretend i’m not here,” cal suggested, a playful grin on his face, which only made andre scoff in disbelief. “i know how—just give me a sec,” andre stammered, the heat rising in his cheeks as his ears turned a shade of pink. cal snorted, amusement evident on his face, before shifting his focus back to his own arousal.

just think of something…

andre chanted to himself, his gaze honing in on cal. he took in cal’s long, tousled blond hair that fell over his forehead, the sharp angles of his bony fingers, and how his shirt clung to his frame, riding up slightly as he slumped against the wall in a relaxed posture.

"there you go, man."

cal quipped, his voice low and encouraging as he watched andre slowly start to tend to himself. andre's eyes fluttered shut, letting out a long sigh, surrendering to the moment.

calvin's member throbbed in his hand, urgency building as he picked up the pace, his gaze fixated on andre’s body, the man blissfully unaware of the intensity of cal's desire.

calvin bit back a groan that threatened to escape. he felt a familiar, sweet pressure bubbling up from deep within his stomach. although the session had only just begun and it would raise suspicion, he didn’t give a fuck. his entire focus was on the blond next to him, who was biting his lip in concentration, his cold hands gripping soft, hot skin with a desperate need—completely oblivious to how cal was practically drooling over him.

briefly, a vivid fantasy played out in cal's mind: it was his head instead of andre's hands, those tan fingers tangling in his hair, guiding him down with deliberate slowness, stuffing his mouth. he envisioned himself as the one helping andre release some pent-up tension, being used as merely a means to an end. his eyes watered at the thought, jaw aching as he tried to take him all in, tasting the salty pre-release, sweat, and that unmistakably distinct essence of andre that calvin craved to experience. the filthiness of the thought sent a jolt of pleasure cascading down cal's spine.

cal's release built to an unbearable peak, and suddenly he found himself spilling into his hand. hot, sticky, thick white covered his palm. he couldn’t help but grunt, stifling the sound that threatened to betray him, desperately trying not to moan like a whore at the vivid scenario playing out in his mind.

he sighed heavily, breath coming in quick bursts, closing his eyes again just in case andre opened his own out of curiosity. quickly, he attempted to clean himself up, both physically and mentally, a whirlwind of post-orgasm bliss and shame washing over him.

though he felt lightheaded and exhausted, he struggled to push the image of andre's member from his mind for now, focusing instead on the lingering sensations and the flickering shadows in the dim room.