James laughed, a low, rough bark that echoed in the quiet hotel room. It was almost pitiful--his little roommate sprawled on the bed, sheets tangled around his hips, cheeks still flushed from the booze but eyes clearing, sharpening, fixing on him with this raw, desperate hunger. Like that blonde slag in the club earlier, grinding on him, begging for it with every roll of her hips. Except this wasn’t some bird. This was Will. Quiet, dependable Will. Staring at his cock like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
James turned away, reaching for the waistband of his Calvins to yank them back up. A cold wave of disgust rolled through him. A fucking fag slobbering over him in their shared room. What the hell was this? He’d shared showers, bunks, late-night bullshit sessions with the lad for months and never clocked it. Never even suspected.
But then his dick twitched--thick, heavy, already half-hard from the unfinished business at the club--and the disgust cracked just enough for heat to leak through. He really had needed someone to slobber on his cock tonight. Needed it bad. The thought of a warm, wet mouth sliding down his length, taking him deep, made the shaft pulse again against his palm.
“Please, James,” Will whispered. Soft. Broken. Pleading.
James froze, briefs halfway up his thick thighs. Slowly he turned back.
Will was sitting up now, sheets pooled in his lap, green eyes wide and glassy but locked on him. No shame left. Just need.
“How long you been keeping this a secret, fag?” James asked, voice gravelly, testing the word. It came out harsher than he meant, but it felt right--dirty, powerful.
Will’s face went scarlet, right to the tips of his ears. “I… I didn’t know I was gay until I met you.” His voice cracked on the admission. “But I wanted you the first moment I laid eyes on you. That first day in the dorm. You walked in all swagger and loud and… fuck, James, you’re perfect.”
James snorted, but he didn’t move to cover up. His hand stayed low, fingers loosely curled around the base of his thickening cock.
“You’re so fucking confident,” Will went on, words spilling faster now, like a dam breaking. “The way you own every room you walk into. The way you laugh, the way you talk shit to the DS and still come out on top. Your body--Christ, your body. Those massive shoulders, the way your chest hair catches the light when you’re dripping sweat after PT. Your arms… I’ve watched them flex when you do pull-ups, imagined them pinning me down. And your arse in those combats--fuck, it’s obscene. And then… then there’s your cock.” Will’s gaze dropped again, reverent. “I’ve seen it soft in the showers, swinging between your legs like it owns the place. I’ve tried not to look. I’ve tried so fucking hard. But I can’t stop thinking about it hard. Thick. Veiny. Leaking. Stretching me open.”
James’s breath hitched. Despite himself--despite the voice in his head screaming this was fucked--he felt his dick swell further, rising to full mast now, the fat head pushing free of the foreskin, glistening at the slit. He gave it a slow, deliberate stroke, eyes never leaving Will’s face.
Will kept going, voice husky. “I’ve wanked thinking about you using me. About you bending me over my bunk after lights out, spitting on my hole, shoving in raw because you can’t be bothered to wait. About you grabbing my hair, calling me your little bitch while you fuck my throat until I choke. About you breeding me, filling me up until it drips down my thighs. I dream about it every night, James. Every fucking night.”
James dropped onto his own bed, legs spread wide, cock jutting up proud and angry-red against his abs. He kept stroking--slow, lazy pulls from root to tip--watching Will watch him.
“And then…” Will swallowed hard. “I dream about you taking my virginity. About being your first proper hole. About you breaking me in, making it hurt just enough that I’ll never forget it was you. Making me yours. I’ve never… I’ve never let anyone touch me there. Never wanted anyone else. Just you.”
The words hit James like a punch to the gut. Virgin. Tight. Untouched. His cock jerked hard in his fist, a fat bead of pre-cum welling up and sliding down the shaft. He could picture it--Will on his knees, arse up, trembling, that smooth, toned back arched, hole pink and clenching around nothing. He could imagine the resistance, the way it’d grip him like a vice the first time he pushed in. The sounds Will would make--whimpers, gasps, maybe even tears. And then the surrender. The way that tight ring would eventually flutter and open for him, sucking him deeper. Shaping itself around his girth. A perfect, available cunt whenever he needed to blow a load. No strings. No drama. Just his squad mate, ready and eager.
Jesus. What the fuck was he thinking?
Guys in the regiment talked about it sometimes--half-drunk boasts in the NAAFI, rough laughter. “Better than a bird when you’re desperate, mate. Tight as fuck and they don’t nag you after.” Jokes, mostly. But some weren’t jokes. Some lads had done it. Discreetly. And come back for more.
James’s hand sped up, slick sounds filling the room. His balls drew up tight. He looked at Will--really looked. Small, lean, trembling with want, cock tenting the thin sheet over his lap. Not disgusting. Not anymore. Just… useful.
“Get over here,” James rasped, voice thick. “On your knees, fag. Let’s see if that mouth is as good as you’ve been dreaming about.”
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