Work Header

Naked and Far From Home

Work Text:

Dante relaxed back against the toilet, leaning the crown of his head against the wall. He was ready for the day to be over. It felt like he'd been at work twice as long as he was supposed to. Especially with Randal breathing down his neck all day. Dante sighed heavily through his nose. He loved his best friend, really he did. But sometimes he wished the prick would just give him some space.

He'd learned to live with all the strange Randal-isms that seemed to sour everyone else's impression of him. Dante was used to the crude language, the nihilism, even the downright mean moments. But one thing Dante Hicks was not immune to was an old fashioned boner. And today God had seen fit to bestow upon him the mother of all hard-ons.

It started with the new delivery of magazines. Something about Randal and porn mags together in a room always ended in Dante getting a half chub. Randal would flip them all wide open and critique every page; recalling how he'd tried this pose with a girl last week, or wondering why chicks always looked so spaced out in the photos. But that wasn't the worst of it. No, the worst was on the occasion the Quick Stop would be privilege to a bit of man-on-man action. Randal would swipe it up like it was nothing special, maybe make a snide comment or huff a slur under his breath. But he'd always go silent. He would make his way through the magazine, cover to cover, quietly studying every page. It made Dante... uncomfortable. He wondered what Randal could possibly be thinking about so intently. He supposed he always suspected Randal wasn't as straight as he made himself out to be, but this seemed excessive. And did he have to do it - whatever it was - while Dante was right next to him? Sometimes Randal would make it even worse and scurry off to the video store right away when he'd finished. Dante's shoulders stiffened up as he imagined how Randal might... relieve the tension.

Generally, Dante was not above admitting when he had it bad. He'd been out of the closet for years now, he'd had his fair share of escalating friendships- although usually it involved a pack of beers and a game of cards. But this was Randal for chissake, this was different. They'd known each other since high school and now all of a sudden he couldn't be in the same room as the guy without imaging him bent over the nearest available surface? It was like he'd gone into fucking heat or something. Maybe he just really needed to get laid.

'Well,' He thought to himself as he returned his attention to the task at hand. 'This will have to suffice.'  Dante reached down to unlatch his belt and wiggle his jeans down his hips a little. He'd already locked up for the night and finished all his closing duties. The windows were even covered. It had occurred to him how thrilling it might be to take care of business right there in the middle of the store, but the risk of mopping up his own spunk from the sales floor was just too humiliating, even with no one around to see it. So the bathroom would have to do.

He hadn't bothered bringing a porn mag in with him. And as Dante reached a hand down to grope himself through his briefs, he knew it was a good call. His mind conjured up Randal immediately, no way he'd be able to focus on anything else. He imagined his friend already sweaty and desperate. Clinging, white knuckled, to the edge of the checkout counter. Knees threatening to buckle from the strain of his dizzying arousal. Dante bit his lip and let out a groan, dipping a hand into his underwear to grip himself properly. He figured Randal's cock would look much like the rest of him; tall, slim, perhaps not particularly impressive but shiny and pink and ready nonetheless. Dante imagined dragging his tongue up and down the sensitive veins, teasing, reducing Randal down to nothing but swears and-

"Holy shit."

Dante jerked his head up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. There, standing in the now open doorway of the tiny Quick Stop bathroom, was Randal. Likely fresh off duty from next door, slack jawed and staring at Dante's dick. It took Dante a full minute to process what was happening.

"Get out!" he finally shouted, closing his legs tight at the knees like a nine-year-old trying not to piss his pants. He covered himself with one hand and grabbed madly for the door knob with the other. Randal, still in a state of shock, didn't present much of a fight when the door was yanked from his grasp and closed once again.



How had Randal even gotten in? Had Dante forgotten to lock the door? He was so certain he'd checked it, he always did, plus an extra time when he decided what he was doing with the evening-- Dante smacked himself on the forehead. Of course, the stupid copies! Dante and Randal both made copies of each other's keys, in case one of them was ever locked out. Probably very illegal, and now in hindsight, clearly the stupidest fucking decision Dante had ever made in his life. Now here he was, hand on his junk in a public restroom, with the object of his affection probably still shell-shocked on the other side of the door. And it was all his own stupid fault.

There was nothing left to do but face it. Maybe Randal wouldn't say anything.

Dante fixed himself up best he could, stuffing the front of his shirt down his pants in an attempt to distract from the obvious bulge. When he finally worked up the courage to open the door, Randal was staring at the floor and worrying his gum against his front teeth. Dante felt like he should be the first one to say something.

"Did you need something?" Ok that was a lot more aggressive than it sounded in his head. Randal rolled his shoulders back and tried to give his voice back its usual bite. But he still wouldn't look at Dante.

"You're my ride, remember? So if you're done growing hair on your palms I'd like to go home and shower away the memory that this ever happened." Dante couldn't think of a better plan. Randal didn't live far, they could probably make it through the whole ride in silence and forget all about this in the morning. He stepped all the way out of the bathroom and headed behind the counter, pulling his jacket out of the cubby where he kept it and fumbling with the pockets until he found his keys. He stopped. He looked from the keys, to Randal, then back again. Something wasn't right. Or rather, something was right. Far too right.

Since high school. That's how long they'd been friends. They'd seen each other through everything; every reaction, every possible human emotion, they've shared it. And this was not Randal Graves, who just caught some chump jerking off at work. This was Randal Graves, flustered and nervous and... blushing? Dante dropped his keys on the counter. This was it. This was fucking it. Yesterday he would've bet money that there was no way in hell Randal felt the same way about him that he felt about Randal, but this was undeniable evidence. He just needed confirmation.

"Do you ever think about me?"

Randal looked up at him for a moment then back at the floor. "What?"

"Do you ever think about me?" Dante repeated the question. It was a dumb question and he knew he should elaborate. But he could sense Randal knew what he meant.

"We've been friends for a lifetime and we see each other every day, I couldn't avoid thinking about you if I tried." It was a dodge. Randal was an expert at dodging questions. If Dante wanted to know - and he wasn't going to stop now - he'd have to be direct.

"I mean, do you ever think about me when you-"

"Jesus Dante all I did was walk in on you, not ask for an invitation!" Randal covered the top of his face with one hand and buried the other deep in his pocket. The blush was brighter now. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Dante laid down his jacket and slipped out of his short sleeve button-up, untucking the front of his t-shirt as he circled out from behind the counter. "Look at me, Randal." The other man cracked open his fingers and used one eye to look up at him. "You know you could've told me. I mean I don't think I've been all that subtle." This seemed to relax Randal a small bit. He straightened up where he stood and reach up to fuss with his hat.

"That's not- that was never the problem." There was a problem? Dante barely even had time to register that thought before being struck with how woefully cute Randal was. There weren't very many moments in their friendship where Randal allowed himself to be vulnerable, allowed his emotions to be seen by anyone. Dante felt a tug at his deepest heartstring and perhaps despite his better judgement, guided Randal's mouth to his in one swift moment.

It wasn't quite the movie-ending kiss he would've hoped for. Randal was stiff and alarmed, lips half open from gasping, and Dante was out of practice. When Randal finally - finally - began kissing back, their noses rubbed together and their teeth scraped against each other. But Dante was pretty sure he'd quit his job just to do this all day. Randal tasted like cheap mint and it sent cold shivers down Dante's spine. His hands found Randal's hips while Randal sank his fingers into Dante's hair. The longer they kissed the more it felt like it could last forever, just pressed against each other and making soft sounds of pleasure through their noses. But Dante had still been hard for the better part of the day and frankly he was hoping Randal wouldn't leave him out in the cold. With muscle memory he'd managed to retain since his days at college, Dante slid one hand around to Randal's stomach, hesitated there for a moment, and reached down and to cup between his legs. Dante's brow furrowed. Randal's eyes shot open and he shoved Dante backwards, folding his own hands in front of his crotch protectively.

There were several beats of silence.

It was Randal's turn to speak first. "I assume you have questions."

"I’ll say! Can we start with 'where's your dick'?"

Randal scowled. "Well it's not like I left it in my other pants." He clenched and unclenched his fists, shifted his weight from foot to foot. Dante had never seen his friend look so out of place. "I'm trans."

It was like Dante's brain had to look up the meaning of the word in some dumb little dictionary. But the realization hit him like a bullet. "Jesus. How did I not know?"

"I assumed you did. You knew me before I even started injections so I figured it was sort of an unspoken thing."

"I thought you just went through a late puberty." Randal laughed dryly.

"One way to look at it, I suppose." There was a bit more awkward silence. "Well, now that I've successfully ruined the mood, I think I'll just walk."

"Wait-" Dante couldn't let the night end like this. And not just because he wanted to get his dick wet. He reached out to hold Randal again, moving slowly and making sure he gave his friend an out if he wanted one. He pressed their foreheads together and kissed him again. "Can we just- I mean..." Dante didn't know how to politely ask 'can we still fuck?'

Randal made a noise in this throat somewhere between a groan and a purr. He leaned in to Dante's touch, rested a hand on his chest. Dante moved down to suck gently on the side of Randal's neck, tightening his grip when he heard the moans Randal responded with. He was inching his hands under the thin t-shirt when Randal shrugged it off completely. Dante tipped his head back a little to appreciate the sight before him.

Randal's torso was soft and pink, with light colored scars on either side of his chest. Dante fought the instinct to reach up and trace them with his fingers. Instead he busied himself planting wet kisses all across Randal's collar bones, slowly moving further and further down until he was finally seated on his knees in front of him. He looked up at him through his lashes. Randal was breathing heavily, still resting a hand in Dante's hair and watching with wide eyes.

Dante could feel Randal tense up as he slowly unbuttoned his jeans and slid down the zipper. Dante wanted to make Randal feel safe, wanted to make sure that he could stop him at any moment. He watched Randal's face for any signs that he didn't want this to happen. But beyond what he figured to be a normal amount of nerves considering the full scope of the situation, Randal seemed to be enjoying himself. Dante hooked his fingers in the jeans and boxers and pulled them down to Randal's knees in one easy tug.

"Holy shit," Dante whispered without even realizing it. Randal's skin heated up and he tried to play off the nervous edge to his voice with a chuckle.

"Here I thought you were a frequenter of men with their pants down." Dante shook his head.

"It's not that, it's just- I think that's the biggest clit I've ever seen in my life." This time, Randal did bust out a genuine laugh.

"Really? But didn't you fuck that girl from--" Randal cut himself off with a shaky gasp as Dante dove in tongue-first. He sucked the sensitive nub between his lips and watched greedily as his earlier fantasy seemed to play out right before his eyes.

Randal fell apart, using both hands now to tug at Dante's hair as he continued his ministrations. His loud panting was accompanied by a seemingly nonstop chorus of 'fuck, fuck, oh fuck’ that got higher and higher pitched as the knot his stomach grew. Dante couldn't help but grin against the salty, wet skin and mentally pat himself on a back for being such a talented linguist.

He pulled himself off momentarily when Randal's hips started to twitch. "Sh-should I make you cum?" Dante really didn't know how much Randal's gender impacted his sex life, or entirely what the plan here was, so he figured it was safer to ask.

"Shit dude you better hope you make me cum if you want any kind of action after this," Randal replied with a strained voice and returned Dante to his work with a sharp tug on his hair. Dante hummed and flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin. It didn't take much longer before he was reaching up to hold Randal's hips still as his friend rode out his climax on his face. He gave a few more wide, lazy licks before leaning back and wiping off his face.

Randal looked saintly. Gazing back at him with hooded eyes and pink cheeks, lips puffy from kissing. They both stayed like that a moment, catching their breath, until Randal cleared his throat and shook off the afterglow. He pulled up his jeans with shaky fingers and flashed a crooked smile at Dante. "Hope you're ready for the best blowjob you've had in your fucking life." Dante grinned as Randal helped him up and guided him to lean back against the checkout counter. They kissed again, and Dante hoped Randal could taste himself on his tongue.

Then Randal was sinking to his knees and once again unlatching the belt from around Dante's hips. He eased the jeans and briefs down just far enough for Dante's cock to spring up against his stomach. It wasn't a huge cock, Dante could admit, but it seemed enough to impress Randal, as he took a moment to admire it before delicately taking the head into his mouth and sucking.

That alone was enough to send Dante spiraling. His head feel back and he let out a deep moan. He couldn't bring himself to watch as Randal bobbed his head, lips creating a tight seal around his cock. The truth behind why Dante had spent much of his teenager years getting so damn good at foreplay was rather embarrassing- he could already feel himself drawing close to the edge and it felt like they'd barely started. He forced his eyes open and scanned the room for something else to focus on, but screwed them closed again with another moan as he felt himself bump the back of Randal's throat. His friend gagged and pulled back a bit, covering what he couldn't fit with his hand. He hollowed his cheeks and that was when Dante lost it.

"Fuck, Randal!" He grabbed a fistful of Randal's hair and nearly doubled over as he came, harder than he ever could've hoped to cum on his own hand. Randal held mostly still, catching it all in his mouth before pulling off with a lewd 'pop' and reaching up to grab a coffee cup from the counter and spitting. He tossed it in the trash and nuzzled into Dante's thighs, who ran his fingers lovingly through his hair in return.

Dante secured his pants again and helped Randal to his feet. They stood there for a minute, just looking at each other, before kissing again.

"I can still give you a ride home... or we could go to my place..." They smirked.

"Dante Hicks you are insatiable."