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Listen To The Medical Commercial

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     Like most people, Byron always thought it was ridiculous how quickly the advertisements for medications would run through all the side effects within the last thirty seconds. They were almost always worse than whatever they were supposed to be curing anyway: taking medicine for a headache? possibility of dying of internal bleeding. 

     He personally chalked it up to the companies not wanting people to know about the side effects, but they were legally required to list them. Of course, Byron never actually listened to the side effects, he didn’t care one bit. Besides, what were the odds of actually suffering from one of those severe things anyways? It was just the type of scenario that no one thought they would ever be in. 

     Until they were.

     Byron wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was very experimental in his sex life, including his personal pleasure habits. Recently, he had decided to try Viagra™️, and had paid no attention to the side effects. Because of that, he now found himself in one of those aforementioned situations. 

     At 8 in the morning, Byron had taken some of the Viagra. His dumb ass had not even remotely checked how much was a normal dosage, and decided not to worry about it when the desired effects had shown up. It was now 12, and if he were a smart person who had any common sense, he would’ve called his doctor, but he was Byron, so of course he did what any highly intelligent intellectual would do: he called his friends.

     He avoided calling Polidori and Claire, seeing as one was a doctor and the other was a little too obsessed with him. Mary just simply said no, Keats was at a yoga class, and the only other person who would possibly even say yes was Percy, so he gave him a ring. The dial rang twice before an enthusiastic voice answered him.

     “Hey man, what’s up?”

     “Dude, my dick has been hard for four hours now,” Byron bragged, like it was some big achievement. “You should come over!”

     Percy was silent for a couple seconds. “....to look at your erection? I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to call a doctor or some shit if that happens,” he said. Real concern for his friend was evident in his voice. 

     “Just come over man.”

     “Uh okay, I guess I’m on my way.”

     Sure enough, Byron heard the screeching of tires in his driveway 10 minutes later. He pulled the door open just as his buddy was about to knock on the door and invited him in. 

     Percy stood awkwardly looking around the house. “Should I drive you to the hospital or-“ he was cut off by Byron putting a finger to his mouth and shushing.

     “Don’t say anything, Shelley, your girly voice isn’t attractive,” Byron complained. That was a lie; his girlish voice was somewhat laughable but also a turn on to Byron.

     Percy pouted at the slander, and asked, “so then what did you call me over for?”, as they ventured back through the house. He heard Byron scoff at the inquiry as though it were clear as daylight. 

     “To see if you’d let me smash.”

     “What?”

     “You know, if I can tap that sweet ass.” 

     He might have been a social revolutionary, but Shelley was not at all caught up with the hip new lingo. However, Byron was always very trendy and relevant with the meme culture, so he could perfectly explain the god awful innuendoes. He thought it would be funny to ask the amazon echo to define ‘let me smash’, but he discarded the idea as he remembered that the FBI would be listening in and judging.

     “I’m just saying, you really remind me of a mirror,” Byron said nonchalantly, pretending to inspect his perfectly manicured nails.

     Shelley looked as puzzled as before. “What? How?” They both sat cross legged on the cheap ikea couch. A long drawn out pause played out as his host smoldered at him in what must have been an attempt to look attractive.

     “Because,” he purred, “I can really see myself in you.”

     “Oh! Uh....oh.”

     Byron chuckled at his blush. “So you see my intentions now?” He inquired, leaning forward (not) subtly. 

     “...yes.” The man in question didn’t meet his gaze and looked down at his lap. “What I’m getting from this is that you want me to have sex with you.” 

     If someone asked Percy to recount what either of them said after that, he wouldn’t be able to; whatever it might have been was completely overshadowed by Byron’s weight pressing him back a couple seconds later, hands running over his shoulders and lips capturing his in a kiss. Byron was rather proud of what he interpreted as his powers of seduction, though it was really just charisma mixed with his naturally handsome appearance. Regardless of how it happened, he was estatic to finally have this type of power over the man underneath him.

     Shelley was an obsession to Byron. His intelligence and quick wit intrigued him, his rejection of a higher power and belief in free love made Byron see in him not an ordinary man, but one of very few who could challenge Byron intellectually and conversationally. They could argue for hours about the most plain to the most controversial issues, and that was what he yearned for in company. The passion with which Percy lived, not for a god who failed him, but for himself and the beauty in the world, sparked a blaze of emotions which even someone as literarily talented as Byron could never find the words to capture a description that would do it justice.

     His body was just as enthralling as his brilliant mind. Flaming locks of auburn hair, which whipped wildly in rough winds, fell all the way down to his shoulders and framed his ivory face. It was always down, but Byron secretly dreamed that one day he would put it up in a bun or a ponytail, thinking it would look cute. Byron ran his hand through the unruly curls, his other hand traveling down to unbutton Shelley’s shirt as he kissed along his jawline. Percy’s lithe figure shuddered underneath him when he reached a sensitive spot on his neck. An awkward mark would blemish the skin for sure, however that didn’t matter in the slightest to either of them. 

     Byron slipped Percy’s shirt off and let it fall to the ground, his free hand now feeling up Percy’s sides, the other one still twisting the red curls around his finger. He left his neck alone, and kissed his now bare chest instead. Shelley began to moan softly. He grasped at Byron’s back, electing to pull at the fabric of his clothes but could not get it off. Eventually, Byron had to sit up and take his shirt off himself, doing so in a way that could show off his figure (hey, he had been working out more recently). 

     “Are you really going to-you know-um, put it in my...” Percy trailed off as Byron started to unbutton his jeans, which he had just thrown on as soon as he had left to come over.

     Byron couldn’t help but laugh. The question, along with the sight of the person he had lusted after for a while now under his own hands, almost completely undone and flustered, was nearly too much to handle.

     He leaned close to Shelley’s ear and whispered, “I will as long as you let me,” to which Shelley nodded.

     Byron pressed their mouths together in a slow kiss, more gentle than he had been before. He skillfully undid the button of Percy’s jeans, pushing them down and kicking them off once they were past his knees. The hand on his stomach slid down to his waistband, and Shelley breathed sharply as it went under and Byron began to touch him. He broke the kiss apart to talk in a low tone. 

     “You’ve driven me wild for so long, Shelley, whether you intended to or not,” Byron murmured seductively, stroking his partner slowly. The heavy moaning from Percy was terribly erotic to him.

     Percy dug his nails into the strong figure atop his form. “Please, just get on with it,” he breathed, pressing his hips up against the palm of Byron’s hand.

     Untangling his fingers from the silky curls, Byron shoved his own pants off in one smooth motion. “If you insist,” he said, almost inaudibly. Any self restraint he previously had was draining away, and he let go of Percy’s dick to pull down his underwear. It was painfully slow, and Percy involuntarily whined at how long it seemed for Byron to pull the garment off of him. He now lay fully naked on the couch, his face and neck blushing deep scarlet at the way Byron runs his eyes up and down his whole body, suddenly feeling scandalous. 

     One thing that gave Percy satisfaction was the knowledge that his father would hate what was going on. Had he not already disowned him, he certainly would now if he knew his son was about to get fucked in the ass by a man who’s had countless affairs with a colorful array of people. Ever since he was cast aside by his father, he found himself sometimes doing things purely for the fulfillment he got from knowing that it would piss off Timothy Shelley; having another guy go down on him was certainly on the list of things that would do so.

     He was pulled from that thought by the sight of Byron slipping off his own undergarments, and he saw for the first time that people were not exaggerating when they talked off his beauty. Byron knew from the look on his face that Percy was admiring him, so he sat back for a moment and let his muse take in the perfect curve of his hips, the definition of his biceps, the graceful contours of his abdominals.

     Byron put his large hands on Shelley’s thighs to ask him to spread his legs. As he did so, Byron leaned down to kiss hotly up Percy’s stomach, feeling a hand tug at his hair, which was now all strewn out of place. Cries of impatience reached his ears. He then held Shelley by the hips and wasted no time in entering him. A gasp came from Percy; it felt so strange to him, especially as Byron rocked into him roughly, but his moaning got louder and more erratic as pleasure rushed over him.

     Byron watched his face change expressions from pain to enjoyment, the sensual noises arousing him even more then the damn Viagra had already done. His hands never left Percy’s hips as he took him, except once to tousle the poets fiery hair and run his thumb over the chapped lips. He had the ability to love someone gently, but he did not have the composure to be slow and gentle at that moment, never bothering to move at a calmer speed than he started out with. It was fast paced and perfect to him.

     When Byron finished within him, Shelley let out an almost feminine cry, and pulled Byron down by his shoulders to kiss him deeply. He felt worn out and used, however sheer bliss had washed over his body and thoughts, blocking out any negative sensations. Byron began to touch Percy again until he came too, shouting out the name of the one who had full control over him.

 


     After the two got their discarded clothes back on and cleaned up, Percy insisted Byron let him take him to the hospital, seeing as the Viagra issue still was persisting. His friend (if you can even refer to the guy who was just up your ass as your ‘friend’) argued with him until Percy finally convinced him to get it checked out by a doctor. 

     Of course, Byron was obnoxiously himself during the drive there.

     “So we’re like, boner buddies or something man. Ooh, cum comrades, smash sisters...”

     “Dude, shut up,” Percy turned the radio up to drown out the bad jokes. 

     Byron ended up having to get treated for viagra overdose, not surprisingly to anyone but him. Did he learn his lesson? Probably not. But hey, at least he finally got to bang Percy.