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Coitus Interruptus

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“Oh shit- ah, fuck.” Rhys braces his hands on the cheap dorm room carpet as Jack’s dick works him open inch by agonizing inch. He tries to push backward, to get Jack inside him already, but Jack’s hands tighten on his hips, holding him in place.

“None of that now, kiddo,” Jack’s voice is low and amused. “If you want my cock that badly you can have it, but we’re doing this my way.”

Rhys whines and drops down to his elbows, but he holds still because it’s finally happening: the object of his most secret desire, the star of his most shameful fantasies, Angel’s dad , is smoothing a hand down Rhys’ back as his hips come flush with Rhys’ ass.

Jack hasn’t even really undressed for this; his pants are shoved down just enough to get his dick out, and the brush of fabric against the back of Rhys’ thighs makes him shiver. His own pants are long gone, his shirt is bunched up around his shoulders, and the knowledge that Jack is fucking him fully clothed while Rhys is almost naked makes him dizzy.

Angel’s dad, Angel’s dad. Those two words keep repeating in Rhys’ brain as Jack begins to move behind him - inside him - but the thought only makes him harder. Jack reaches around him and brushes his fingers over the head of Rhys’ cock, smearing precome and making Rhys jerk, torn between trying to get those fingers on his cock and the way Jack’s dick is filling him up.

“God, you’re so hot for me. You been thinking about this?” Jack’s voice washes over him. “Jerked off to the thought of taking my dick?” Rhys groans because he has , in anxious, furtive sessions before Vaughn comes back from class, and fuck if it doesn’t get him off faster than anything else.

The real thing is even better, though. Jack adjusts his grip on Rhys’ hips, and Rhys makes an embarrassingly loud noise when the improved angle runs Jack’s cock right over that electric spot inside him.

“There we go,” Jack chuckles. “Just like that.”

Angel is going to kill him for this, but Rhys is going to die happy because Jack is fucking him in earnest now and hitting all the right spots. Jack may be an arrogant asshole but he certainly knows how to use his dick; Rhys’ thighs are trembling and they’re not going to hold him up much longer -

There’s a sound like a key in a lock, and it takes a second to register in Rhys’ brain, but he looks up just in time to see the doorknob turn and hear Vaughn’s voice floating in, “Guess who got out of Finance early!”

Everything seems to happen at once. Vaughn gets halfway in the door and freezes mid-sentence, face going pale and textbook dropping from nerveless fingers. Rhys panics, shoving back against Jack. Jack swears, hands going bruisingly tight on Rhys’ hips. The pressure of his fingers combines with the swirling in Rhys’ chest, and his entire body clenches down around Jack’s cock. Jack groans and his hips snap forward, tearing an answering noise from Rhys, which seems to shock Vaughn out of his paralysis.

“Holy shit ,” and Vaughn is stumbling backwards out of the room, slamming the door shut, thank god. Jack shifts behind Rhys like he’s going to pull out, and Rhys is going to die of embarrassment but he’s going to do it later because he is so close to coming and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get off now.

“Don’t you fucking stop,” and he means it to sound commanding but it comes out gasping and wanting. He twists as much as he can to look at Jack over his shoulder. “Please, I’m so close.”

Jack laughs breathlessly. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” and the next couple thrusts practically drive Rhys through the floor. Rhys hears little sobbing noises, and realizes they’re coming from him right as Jack gets his hand on Rhys’ still-aching cock.

“Still hard for me, huh?” Jack says right in his ear, and Rhys nods his head frantically, ready to say yes to anything as long as Jack doesn’t stop moving . “Bit of an exhibitionist, are we? Kinky.” Rhys is getting rug burn on his knees, his best friend has just caught him fucking their friend’s dad , and Rhys has never wanted to come so bad in his entire life .

Good boy ,” and that's it, Rhys comes so hard his vision whites out, Jack’s voice ringing in his ears.

Rhys feels Jack abruptly pull out of him, and begins to turn, but Jack stops him with a hand on his back. “Just stay right there, kiddo.” Jack’s voice is finally beginning to show some strain, but Rhys would feel a lot more proud of that if he didn’t also feel like his limbs might not support him if he tried to stand right now.

Jack grunts behind him and Rhys feels a sudden warmth striping his back. Jack smooths a hand down Rhys’ side and repeats, “good boy,” and this should be one more humiliation on top of another, but apparently Rhys’ brain is a lot more fucked up than he was aware of, because he just shivers all over, and not just because of the cooling sweat on his heated body.

Jack slaps Rhys’ ass and moves to stand. “Better get cleaned up, buttercup.” Rhys rolls to one side and Jack winks at him, re-fastening his pants. “You’ve got some explaining to do to your roommate.”


After Jack has left, sauntering past Vaughn who is hovering awkwardly in the hallway, Rhys dresses quickly and shamefacedly lets Vaughn back in. They sit on opposite sides of the room avoiding eye contact until Vaughn clears his throat.

“You didn’t, uh. You didn’t use my bed, did you?”

“Ohmygod, no . I wouldn’t do that to you, bro,” Rhys says earnestly, although he realizes his credibility has been seriously damaged by fucking their friend’s dad in their dorm room.

“Okay. Well.” Vaughn clears his throat again, seeming to wrestle with something before it spills out. “Did it have to be Angel’s dad?   Come on, man.”

“...he’s hot?” Rhys says weakly.

Vaughn looks skeptical. “I mean, if you say so. I don’t know how you’re going to face her in Econ tomorrow.”

Rhys drops his head in his hands. “I don’t know . Maybe I don’t have to tell her?”

“Too late for that, bro, I already texted her.” At Rhys’ look of shocked horror, Vaughn lifts his hands defensively. “Hey man, you traumatized me first - that image is never coming out of my brain, thanks for that by the way.”

As if on cue, Rhys’ phone starts buzzing. Rhys picks it up with trepidation - it’s an incoming call and not a text.

Angel must be pissed.

Rhys sighs and thumbs Accept. Time to face the music.

“Hi, Angel. So, haha, funny story…”