Work Text:
Kevin was stuck in that treacherous limbo where he wasn’t drunk enough to withstand the obscene amount of eye-fucking unfolding in front of him: Neil looked one smoldering glance away from lunging at Andrew’s neck, and Andrew looked a single lip-bite away from dropping to his knees and sucking Neil’s dick right there under the table.
But it wasn’t like Kevin was sober enough to do anything about it, either.
“Christ,” he muttered, tipping back another shot. It burned its way down his throat before he slammed the glass onto the table.
Neil and Andrew both spared him an irritated glare before promptly returning to ignoring the rest of the world in favor of each other.
Kevin didn’t actually believe there was a level of alcohol—short of poisoning himself—that could save him from the sexual frustration blooming at the table. His only other option was to live with it or get the fuck away.
Even joining Aaron and Nicky on the dance floor began to seem like a possible alternative—for one ludicrous moment. But then he cast a look at the writhing crowd, imagined sweaty bodies pressing in from every direction, the strobe lights pounding overhead in sync with the music, and winced.
Instead, he pulled out his phone, looking for a distraction. He meant to check his socials—only to realize he’d missed two messages from Thea.
Thea: wyd
The other was a photo. Kevin had to tighten his grip on the phone when he opened it. His breath left him in a soft, shaky huff.
Thea stood in front of a mirror, turned just enough to show off her back. She wore nothing but white lace panties—the creamy fabric decadent against her dark skin, smooth and incandescent, daring the light to rival its glow. Her round, supple ass was thrust toward the camera, one cheek caught in her palm. Her back was a stunning patchwork of rippling muscle, that Kevin suddenly needed to sink his teeth into. Every dip, every line, every bite of skin—all of it his.
He swallowed around the lingering vodka burn in his throat and typed back.
Kevin: oh fuck
Kevin: send more?
Then he stood—too fast. The floor tilted beneath him, but he caught himself on the table and straightened, dignity mostly intact—if not for the fact that he was, of course, being perceived. Observed.
“Going somewhere?” Andrew asked.
Kevin briefly considered telling him to fuck off, but he didn’t have it in him to fight that battle. Not tonight.
“More drinks,” he muttered, already making his way toward the bar.
By the time he reached Roland, the thought of another shot had lost its appeal. Thea had responded, and the buzz in his head was enough—too much, even. It edged toward unpleasant now; clarity had become more tempting than the intoxicating oblivion that gagged his demons.
Thea: hmm I’m thinking about it
Kevin bit down on the straw of his soda water. He had a feeling where this was going—it wasn’t the first time they’d played this game. Thea always started it, and Kevin always tried to keep up through a stormy surge of arousal made worse by the distance, by the long months between seeing her. Sex rarely made it high on Kevin’s list of priorities. Until Thea. She could knock it to the top with nothing more than a look, a single teasing word, the sway of her hips as she passed him by.
He knew what she wanted to hear—and he was happy to indulge. He would give her this, and more.
Kevin: I miss you
Thea: tell me what you miss
Kevin: miss your tits in my face
Kevin: miss your thighs straddling me
Kevin: miss your pretty girl cock
Thea rewarded him with another photo.
Kevin sucked in a breath, sharp and dizzying, and quickly tapped the screen closed. There were too many people at the bar—most of them too drunk to care, but he wasn’t taking chances. He couldn’t go back to the table, either.
Resolutely, he pushed his way through the crowd, using his height to scout out a dark, deserted wall on the far side of the club—away from the exits, away from the bar, out of sight.
He leaned against it, the wall vibrating with bass that matched the violent beat of his heart, and opened the photo.
Thea was kneeling now, still in front of the mirror. Her legs were spread wide. One arm pushed her tits together, the nipples hidden from view but leaving a devastating tease of underboob.
Kevin fucking loved her tits. They fit perfectly in his palms—more than a handful, perky but soft, pliable under his tongue. He needed to see the rest of her. Needed his mouth on her. Needed her arching beneath him, eyes rolling back, lips parted around a moan that belonged to him.
The urge to send a frustrated reply rippled through him—but then his gaze dropped.
She was still wearing the panties. They were too small, and too sheer. Her heavy cock strained against the lace, the head just peeking from beneath the hem, her balls tucked back. All of it meant to drive him completely out of his mind.
Unbidden, a memory flashed—zinged down his spine like electricity: the first time Thea had palmed his erection through his jeans and murmured, “Oh, you’re big.”
Her breath caught on the last word, making something stutter in his chest in response. “But I don’t think you’re bigger than me.”
Then she’d tilted her head with a thoughtful hum, taken his hand in hers, and guided it down to her skirt—where the hard line of her cock was impossible to miss through the fabric.
“You know what that means, right?” she teased, all taunting promise and a wicked grin.
Kevin’s breath had gone shallow. “What,” he managed—barely audible, a reverent syllable rolled off his tongue.
Thea leaned in, lips brushing his, then licked a slow, wet stripe up to his earlobe.
“If I’m bigger than you,” she whispered, “I get to top.”
Kevin tried to breathe through the heat flooding his body at the memory. He adjusted himself, cock already hard, and typed back with fingers that felt anything but steady.
Kevin: fuck baby
Kevin: what are you doing to me
Kevin: I’m at Eden’s
Thea: if you’re good and take care of yourself
Thea: I will send you a video
The idea of getting off in the stall at Eden’s wasn’t exactly appealing—definitely not the kind of thrill he was looking for—but there weren’t many other options. And he had to deal with his raging erection somehow. The prospect of squeezing into the back of Andrew’s Maserati, wedged between Aaron and Nicky while sporting a noticeable bulge, was out of the question. Probably.
The bathroom, surprisingly, wasn’t too crowded for this time of night. Still, for his own strange sense of comfort, Kevin waited until the only other guy at the sink finished up and left. The door swung open to let in a stream of obnoxious bass—then cut off as it shut—leaving behind just enough silence to give Kevin the confidence to unbuckle his belt and pull his cock out.
He took out his phone too, snapping a quick photo for Thea. He gripped his cock by the base and angled it slightly downward, the bead of pre-cum welling at the tip mercifully obscured by the low, yellow-tinted light of the bathroom.
He sent it off and opened the last photo she’d sent him. Relief hit the moment he wrapped his hand around himself—his head thudding softly against the stall wall.
The sound was echoed a beat later from the next stall over.
Kevin stilled, listening.
A breath, followed by the faintest whisper of a moan.
Of course.
What else could he expect from Eden’s?
He tried to ignore it—the presence of others engaged in equally comporosing acts—and kept stroking, his hand sliding slick over his achingly hard dick. His other hand held his phone precariously, thumb swiping up to open Thea’s latest reply.
Thea: good boy
A video appeared in the thread seconds later. The preview alone made Kevin’s heart skip, jam in his chest, and maybe permanently lose rhythm.
He hit play.
Thea was on all fours on her bed, camera propped somewhere behind her. Her face was turned to the side, cheek pressed to the sheets, her brown eyes blazing dark and molten. One hand curled around her cock, stroking in lazy, teasing drags. Her ass cheeks were spread wide, and her other hand was tracing infinite, torturous circles around her hole—clenching and relaxing with every pass of her fingertip.
Kevin cursed under his breath. His strokes faltered for a second, overwhelmed by the sheer force of arousal crashing over him. But he kept going, his fist working in rhythm with the wet, obscene sounds rising from the next stall; indulgent like someone going to town on a popsicle, lips sticky-sweet with candy sugar.
The glide. The pop. The shuffle of shoes against tile.
He wished, desperately, that Thea was in the stall with him. That it was him on his knees, with Thea towering over him, fucking his mouth with her huge cock, cradling his face in her long, manicured fingers. She was an expert at that—at keeping him together while taking him apart.
Fucking him hard. Kissing him tenderly.
Kevin drowning in the heat of her mouth, lost in the plushness of her lips as she rode him, her cock grinding against his abs, or his face buried between her tits, his mouth latched on her nipples. She’d bring him to the brink again and again—then push him over, unceremoniously, only to catch him on the other side.
He was so close.
The memory of her tight hole clenching around him as she came—streaking his abdomen in the process—was enough to send him spiraling. A half-moan escaped his throat as he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold out against the oncoming orgasm tearing its way out of him.
With the last shreds of control, he switched to the front camera on his phone, recording himself as he came—thick spurts spilling out of him, landing everywhere: the floor, the toilet seat, streaking his palm. The tide of pleasure receded just enough for him to rub the head with his thumb, coaxing out the final few drops.
He stopped recording and sent the video off.
Thea: Kev, I need you to pump me full of your cum next time I see you
Thea: promise?
Kevin: promise
By the time Kevin tucked himself back into his pants and exited the stall in favor of the sink, he realized the one next to him had gone unnaturally quiet.
He washed his hands, splashed cool water on his burning cheeks—and froze as he looked up.
In the corner of the mirror, Neil and Andrew were stepping out of the stall.
Andrew’s arm was wrapped possessively around Neil’s waist. Neil, utterly unbothered, was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—spit-slick and reddened.
So Kevin had been wrong about whose dick was on the verge of getting sucked earlier.
Neil sidled up to the sink beside him, eyes glittering, his reflection on the dangerous precipice of smug with the way his lips curved upwards.
“Were you enjoying yourself, Kevin?” he asked.
Andrew hovered just behind him, head resting against Neil’s shoulder, arms looped around his middle like letting go would mean losing him entirely.
Kevin exhaled sharply through his nose. “God, I hate you,” he muttered, not specifying which one—and hoping they understood it applied to both. He splashed another handful of water on his face and buried it in his hands for a few life-saving seconds.
Andrew’s voice, clipped and cool, pulled him back. “Come on. We’re leaving.”