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When Mac came walking out of the shower, hair dripping and towel hanging haphazardly around his waist as he stands exactly 4 inches away from Dennis’ face- well, Dennis could just scream at the top of his lungs in frustrated agony.
“And I just don’t understand why he doesn’t just want to- I don’t know- meet up for coffee? And like, we can actually see each other face to face, and then we can bang, you know? And like, I really wanna bang him Dennis, because- the texts? They’re really something, like, so hot, and I know he wants me because he told me-”
“Shut up!” Dennis shouts over him at last, ceasing his incessant rambling. “Will you just shut up, Mac? And will you please step back and get dressed, you’re dripping all over the damn floor for God’s sake.”
Mac shrugs, a pitiful puppy dog expression taking over his features. “Sorry, Dennis. You know, shower thoughts. It’s just that- I really think we belong together and-”
Dennis raises a hand at once, finally being the one to just step away himself. “I’m tired of hearing about Johnny, Mac. Sick and tired!” He races into his room, slamming the door behind him. Flopping down onto his bed, he wastes no time pulling out his phone and opening the app. It takes approximately 90 seconds for Mac to be out the door, the sound echoing through the apartment like music to Dennis’ ears.
Then, it takes roughly 14 minutes for Mac to arrive at the motel. Quicker, if there’s no traffic or he orders an Uber ahead of time. Dennis uses the time to get comfortable, sitting back in bed and stretching out his legs. He scrolls through Johnny’s text messages with Mac until a new message comes through:
i’m here.
Right on schedule.
Go up to the room. I want you to get on the bed, get ready for me. Dennis texts back.
It’s a credit to Dennis’ vivid and exceptional imagination that allows this whole experiment he’s been conducting for the last few weeks to bring him such a thrill. He can see so clearly in his mind’s eye Mac on the cheap motel mattress, probably on his stomach with his ass in the air like a porn star (he might’ve sent a picture once, about four days ago), probably moaning like the desperate slut he is (which Dennis might’ve heard in an audio message he sent a week and a half ago) as Dennis adjusts the speed and frequency of the anal beads at a rapid, cruel pace. Dennis (like every time before) is already feeling hot all over, a shiver tingling down his spine. He knows exactly what Mac is doing right now, it’s all become quite a ritual, and the omniscient power and control Dennis has over him at all times now- fuck, Mac is in the palm of his hand, where he belongs.
He still doesn’t understand why Mac keeps doing this, going to the motel when Johnny never shows up. But Dennis- Johnny - calls, and Mac answers without fail. And then the power trip of knowing Mac is waiting somewhere, desperately hoping and praying that Dennis comes and fucks him- that Johnny does- fuck, his head is so twisted up right now.
It’s the twistiness that causes Dennis to unbutton his jeans and stick his hands down his pants, a more recent addition to the ritual but, an inevitable one, as Dennis was becoming exhausted with sitting there trying to ignore his boner and refusing to jerk off to then spend the entire night restless and barely get any sleep. He couldn’t keep doing that, of course not- it’d be bad for his health, honestly.
Dennis types out another text.
Does it feel good? I wanna be there so bad to see you baby.
fuck. Mac texts back immediately.
It’s not the first time he’s said that and also not the first time he regrets it immediately, but the sentiment always just slips away with a few taps of Dennis’ fingers, out of his control. Anway, he needs to somehow keep up Mac’s hopes that maybe Johnny will show up, it’s the possibility of it that keeps Mac coming back. In all honesty, it’s what keeps Dennis coming back too- the knowledge that Mac is there ready and willing, wanting him, and if Dennis really wanted to and he could simply go and take it, have it, enjoy it at last. It could be his, if only he had the courage to reach out and touch beyond the shield of a make believe e-boyfriend.
Dennis imagines Mac grinding into the bed now, probably refusing to touch his cock yet but unable to not try and seek out some kind of friction. Dennis starts stroking himself in earnest now, tuning out all the voices in his head that are screaming, God, this is so wrong, this is so fucked up. Fuck, it feels so good though, I’m fucking more in control than ever before, more than Mac even knows. He’s mine, he’s fucking mine, fuck- I should go there, I should go to him- shit-
Dennis’ hips stutter, and he realizes how long he’s had Mac’s toy turned up to a ceaseless high level vibration. Then he sees the texts
fuck
johnny
please
i’m gonna cum
baby
please
Dennis’ vision fucking whites out as his mind is flooded with the mental picture of Mac- wrecked, screaming, crying into the pillow as his prostate is tortured under Dennis’ control. He was letting Dennis do that to him, he wanted him to, he needed it. To be honest, Dennis isn’t sure if he doesn’t need it now too. Regrettably, there has to be an expiration date on this whole thing. He doesn’t know how long he can keep up this Johnny character, and despite his best efforts to hint the truth to Mac, the stupid idiot won’t pick up on any of it . Dennis could probably straight up tell the dude he’s Johnny, and Mac still wouldn’t get it.
What is wrong with Dennis, to feel this way about such a goddamn moron?
He hasn’t slowed down the vibration at all, in fact he turns it up now, texting Mac as he quickens the pace of his hand on his cock, which is hard as ever and leaking in his grasp. It hasn’t even been that long and already Dennis feels right on the edge, this has become so easy.
Just come for me, Mac. Just go ahead and come for me.
Dennis closes his eyes, letting the vision and the sheer knowledge of the fact that he’s making Mac cum right now wash over him, and soon enough so is his climax. He throws his phone aside and tosses his head back violently as a moan is ripped out of him.
He takes a minute to catch his breath, and probably a minute too long to realize the beads are still going. He reads the texts Mac have sent:
fuck, I came so hard for you
johnny, fuck
you gotta turn them off
dude
fuck, please, i can’t take it
fuck
pleasdsee gfuucmk
Dennis relinquishes and turns off the app as he tucks himself back into his pants.
From here, Mac will be home in about thirty minutes. What Mac does in that extra time, Dennis isn’t sure. Consequences of not actually showing up, he supposes. When Mac finally does walk through the door, the same look of defeat and sadness always painted on his face, Dennis will pat the spot next to him on their couch (their bed, that they still share. Every night.) and tell him “it’s okay, buddy,” as he wraps an arm around his best friend’s shoulders, comforting him.
If Dennis thought Mac was into Johnny for any reason other than this clearly weird and probably trauma related sexual fetish he’s been able to fulfill- well- things could maybe be different. Maybe Dennis would just come out and tell Mac that he’s the one he’s been texting, he’s the one Mac is submitting to… maybe he would confess.
Maybe one day.