Chapter Text
Xeno’s dark curtains– depicting the famous cliffs of creation– fluttered stiffly in the gentle breeze that slipped through his open window. The smell of budding flowers carried on the wind, bringing a sweetness with it that foretold days of warm sunshine, honey bees buzzing as they bumble around distributing pollen, and a summer of experiments. Inside the room, Xeno sat on the floor beside his bed. His elbows bore holes in his mattress as he flipped through a large tome he voluntarily studied from.
It was a lazy summer afternoon, and Xeno was intent on spending it reading through an advanced physics book he’d stolen from his father’s home office. It was marked with several old notes from the man’s own haydays in college. A lazy hand floated up to Xeno’s mouth and stifled a yawn as the tranquil hours stretched on.
Down below, he sat straddling a folded pillow. His hips rubbed against it in a lackadaisical manner. Xeno had hit that age where his body was coming into sexual maturity and his natural need to reproduce had become a thorn in his side. If he was left under-stimulated for too long, a warmth would nudge his lower stomach. His biology cursed him with a horny need to satiate that fire each time the kindling was lit.
So as to not waste his time, Xeno had stumbled upon a solution that allowed him to satiate the need enough to ignore it while still being able to progress his self-guided studies. Instead of succumbing to the temptations of touching himself– oftentimes spending hours on end exploring his body and the different reactions to various stimuli– he found that simply stoking the flame with small touches was all he really needed. Just that minuscule movement and the growing comfort that flowed through his veins was all his body truly craved. In the end, he could even forgo the need to hit his climax if he drew the pleasure out long enough. Eventually his body would bore of the constant stroking, and his erection would wane, leaving him with nothing more than a mild stomach ache as punishment for avoiding nature’s plan.
Xeno flipped a page in his book, mind already buzzing as he mentally copied down each equation it broke down and explained. The numbers, letters, and pseudo-letters all engraved in his cerebral cortex. The smooth kiss of his silk pillowcase caressed his stiff member as he fell into the mindless rhythm he always set for days like this. A gentle shiver grew along his spine like the soft twining vines of a Carolina Jessamine– yellow buds of pleasure blooming on each disk.
A rustling outside of his window caught his attention. The neighborhood’s fat squirrel was, once again, making a mess of the lower branches while it searched for more food to quell its insatiable need to swell into a balloon. Xeno hummed his annoyance at the pest, but let it be. Its weight proved a bane as the annoying creature found himself bound to the ground, unable to support itself while climbing for longer than a second or two.
…only, the rustling got higher. The leaves that obscured the summer’s sunshine shifted and swirled, sending dancing shadows across the tiny print of his book. Xeno’s attention snapped towards the vermin who now bothered his studies, ready to fling scathing curses at the chubby creature.
“Yo, Xeno!” Stan called out. Xeno’s face fell in shock as his eyes landed on the form of Stanley Snyder plopping his butt down on the branch he often graced when he wanted to bother Xeno without going through the hassle of talking to his parents at the front door. Several bandages dressed his tan cheek, arms, and one large patch covered a particularly bad gash he’d gotten after pressing his brother one too many times for a paintball war. That toothy smile melted all the venom from Xeno’s lips.
“Stan? Why are you here? We didn’t make any plans to meet up today.”
“Yeah, I know,” he shrugged– his loose, blue t-shirt two sizes too big shifting in the breeze. “Mom and dad are having their weekly screaming match. I snuck out my window so I didn’t have to get pulled into it when they start threatening divorce again.”
“Those two need to go through with it already,” Xeno sighed. He leaned his chubby cheek against a fist as he propped himself up. He pulled his knees closer together, uncertain if Stanley could tell he was sans pants at the moment. From the given angle, he shouldn't be able to make out anything below Xeno’s chest thanks to the book and his bed obscuring the rest. The fright of being called out for his odd bit of nudity crawled across his skin. Unfortunately, his lower head didn’t catch on to the situation at hand. He was, instead, quite hard still and his hips continued to rock in small circles to satiate the need that played notes of lust on his sanity.
“I wouldn't know how to live in a quiet house if they actually did, though,” Stan laughed. “They’re so loud it’s crazy. Mom complains about chores and always accuses dad of cheating while dad finds any minor inconvenience to bitch about. At this rate, I think it’s just a contest to see who can be louder longer.”
“My money is on your mom. I’ve heard how she is when doing laundry.”
“You’ve never seen my dad on game day when his team loses,” Stan rebutted. “At this point they just make a to-go meal for the cops who get called to our house whenever he watches sports.”
The blond fidgeted on the branch, shaking the leaves and shadows they cast. He faced away from Xeno then dropped down so he hung from his knees, long locks swaying freely in the soft breeze. His arms hung down, dangling beside his face as the world around him turned upside down.
“You know, you’re rather loud when you want to be,” Xeno pointed out. His eyes wandered back to his book, coasting over a particularly difficult equation. His hips ground down against his pillow with a relaxed pace, confident that Stan was far from noticing now. “It’s got its perks when trying to get through large crowds. One booming order from you and people clear the way for us.”
“Compared to a squirrelly guy like you, it’s not hard to be the loud one.” Stan’s face was turning red as blood flowed to his head. A soft buzzing accompanied the light headedness that descended upon him. “Between being at my house or with you, it’s a no brainer. Your loud ain’t even loud, you know? All you do is use power tools or chatter like an endless infomercial. That’s what’s so great about you, Xe.”
“Ah~”
Xeno’s knees squeezed against the pillow and his body went rigid. His face grew red and his eyes widened– still staring at the book yet unable to read a single word that stared back at him. He pursed his lips while sweat ran down his face. His mind swirled with the fact that he had just moaned while rubbing against his pillow. That alone was unusual and embarrassing, but he had done so with Stanley right outside his window.
“Was that you!?” Stan asked in shock. He scrambled back onto the branch and resituated himself to look at his friend with clearer eyes. Xeno wore a look of shameful guilt. Stanley shot off the branch and through the open window in a single second. The bed bounced and distorted around his landing, while he hastily crawled over to the book Xeno had been studying from. “No way! You’re looking at porn aren’t you!?”
Was it instinct or was it desperation for that to be his biggest crime? Either way, Xeno’s arms snapped closed over the open pages of his book, obscuring them from his friend. Stan persisted, unperturbed by Xeno’s need to hide it. As Stanley launched himself across the bed, his head slammed into Xeno’s.
Xeno fell back from the force of the collision, arms unthreading themselves from the physics formulas that sat printed in black and white. Stan’s expression fell as he looked over the boring book. “Are you serious? It’s just school stuff? Don’t tell me you think math is hot,” Stan chastised, his eyes wandering up from the page.
Stanley was surprised to find Xeno sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom after their collision. Well, no, he expected as much after shoving him out of the way with his hard head. What really shook him up was that Xeno lacked clothes from the waist down. A pillow had slipped from under him and sat between his legs with a pronounced wet spot. In the middle of the chaos was Xeno’s length giving a one handed salute.
“Were you touching yourself?” Stan’s voice wavered in both disbelief and uncertainty in how to proceed.
“N– NO!” Xeno shouted as he pulled at the bottom of his T-shirt, trying to hide the embarrassing protrusion that announced his lie.
Stanley cocked his head to the side as he looked over the pillow that was loosely grasped between Xeno’s legs. He couldn’t help but notice how dark the purple pillowcase was in one specific spot, and had it not been for the small, glittering string that connected it to Xeno’s private place, he wouldn’t have pieced together that puzzle. “Are you using a pillow to get off? How do you do it?”
“Can we go back to the family conversation?” Xeno groaned, ego completely and utterly crushed. His hands gave up on trying to hide his erection that still refused to go down. Instead, he opted to cover his cherry-red face from his friend’s lingering gaze.
Stan shifted on the bed, throwing his feet over the side, and allowed his dirty boots to crash against the soft carpet of his friend’s floor. Small chunks of dried mud fell from them and ingrained themselves among the fibers. His eyes lingered on the pillow while his face contorted. “No, I’m really curious. I mostly use my hand, but after a while of jacking it, my wrist gets sore. A sock helps with getting me off quicker, but mom gave me an earful after she found the evidence.” His face contorted as he recalled the verbal lashing he’d received that day.
“I fear you might end up in the same situation,” Xeno pointed out. He pulled himself from the less dignified position and ended up sitting himself on the pillow that tucked back under his legs perfectly, still warm and conformed to his body’s shape. “Stiff fabric in general isn’t exactly easy to explain away once sexual maturity hits.”
“Well, how do you hide it? Just flip the pillow and shove it in the laundry machine when your mom cleans?”
“I don’t usually climax,” Xeno admitted. “I just grind against it until I get bored. Any mess I make is easily wiped off with a wet towel.” His cheeks somehow glowed even hotter.
Stanley’s gaze rested back on that wet spot that was heavy and dark under Xeno’s member. There was already a substantial amount of pre-cum that stained it; a few drops unabsorbed and pearly in the summer’s sunshine. “I call bull,” he countered. “There’s no way that’s true. You’re already making a big mess and you weren’t even doing nothing!”
Xeno’s head snapped away from the accusation as his face grew, yet again, several shades of crimson. He was a boiling pot of humiliation. “I admit this is an… unprecedented situation.”
“Okay, well, show me how to do it and I’ll try it too. We’ll share notes or whatever it is you always talk about.”
“Compare our results?” Xeno’s face lit up, surprised by the opportunity to study a different kind of science. “Well… okay.”
“Awesome!” Stan launched himself off the bed and knelt on the floor, taking up a seat even closer to Xeno so he could see just what he was doing. The gap between them was frighteningly small; made tinier still as the blond leaned forward with his full attention on Xeno’s twitching length. “Well, go on.”
A cold shiver raced up Xeno’s spine and exploded like a firework of horror and mortification. He leaned forward and small, pale hands gripped the top of the pillow– pulling it tight against his anatomy so he could bare down on it with ease, while he shifted his hips. The soft caress of his silk pillowcase kissed the head of his member; gliding smoothly. Extra kindling was added to the fire that swelled in his abdomen thanks to both the prolonged– then interrupted– session he’d already been indulging in, as well as Stanley’s intense interest.
A heavy breath rolled like the ocean’s fog from parted lips. Before he could relax into the feeling, Stan’s fingers graced the skin of his thighs. Xeno was suddenly aware of how difficult it was to separate muscles from bone, or else his skeleton would have jumped from his very flesh thanks to the unexpected touch. His entire body shook with fright.
A tan hand lifted the hem of Xeno’s shirt, further exposing the scientist to his friend. “It’s in my way. I can’t see what you’re doing.”
“I’m just rubbing against the pillow. You really don’t have to watch!” Xeno reasoned while he snatched the fabric from his friend’s grasp. Despite himself, he continued to hold the shirt out of Stan’s way, putting the full, pathetic display on a stage framed by the split sides of his red T-shirt.
Xeno could feel the way his member pulsed with a new wave of fresh blood, swelling the appendage further and only eliciting more pleasure from the stimulation. A sigh fell from parted lips as his eyes dipped close. The euphoric waters of his orgasm lapped gently at his heart, pushing him towards a finale he often avoided. He could feel the way pre-cum pulsed from his head and tinted the pillowcase with, yet more, natural lubricant to slide against.
“Does it really feel that good, Xe?” Stan asked, hypnotized by the ministrations.
“AH~” The moan jumped from Xeno’s mouth, springing to life in the heated bedroom air and echoed off the metal and glass of his experiments.
Stan’s head snapped upwards, surprise slackened his jaw as he took in the sultry noise his friend made. “...guess it does,” he mumbled to himself.
In lieu of chucking himself from the open window, and aiming to land on his neck so he could avoid the overwhelming embarrassment that swirled around him, Xeno simply shoved the cloth of his shirt into his mouth. With any future noises muffled, he could at least internally die while his hips rocked even faster. There must have been a few wires crossed in his head because the soft kiss of silk on his overheated glands became spine-chillingly good. The gentle waters that washed over him now swelled into a storm of choppy waves. His heart flooded with bliss and he couldn’t stop himself from chasing his orgasm.
“Mnf~” he moaned out around his shirt.
“Lean back,” Stan ordered. His hand once again pushed past imagined boundaries as his fingertips pressed against Xeno’s bare chest. A coarse thumb pad slid against Xeno’s nipple and a brand new sensation of lust shocked him. Another, sultry moan was muffled by the cotton of his shirt. Xeno turned to pliable putty and shifted backwards. He was completely and totally exposed to his best friend, whose eyes glittered with fascination as he watched Xeno in his most shameful moment.
Xeno shifted his hands so that they grasped the small bit of pillow that jutted out under his butt, arching his back and putting the small, rosy nipples on the same stage as his leaking length. He desperately rocked his hips down against the petal-like caress of his pillow. The friction wasn’t there any longer, but the need to finish was. He grunted while his face contorted in frustration.
“You really have a hard time cumming this way, huh?” Stan pointed out as he leaned back on his knees. His eyes were fixated on the way Xeno’s body shifted and slithered as he rocked his hips. A slight sheen of sweat swept over his skin. His length twitched and danced, head dipping against the sticky, wet spot the pillow sported. Brilliant beads of pearls bubbled from Xeno’s tip and dressed the dark purple fabric.
Stanley crawled from his spot, circling around Xeno until he was directly behind him. Xeno, once again, tested his theory of separating bones and muscles as he felt Stan’s hands alight upon his shoulders. A string of static shocked him like an old CR television with too much electrical build up. His eyes exploded open and those deep, dark galaxies looked over his shoulder as he wordlessly questioned Stan’s presence there.
“I don’t want to get hit by your load,” he tastelessly reasoned. “Besides, you can use me like a wall or whatever. Maybe having something sturdy to hold you as you move will help?”
Had he been of his right mind, Xeno would have never bought such terrible reasoning, but with lust flooding his heart and the fog of his need obscuring his thoughts, he went with it. Xeno leaned his weight against Stan’s offered grasp and rocked with more moxie against the pillow. His self-crafted supports crumbled as Xeno dared to lift a hand from the floor, so he could pinch at the same nipple Stan had inadvertently touched.
The rough treatment made him groan with pleasure. The fire roared out of control and yet it still wasn’t enough. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his sight was blurry with the dizzying bliss that drowned him.
“Come on, Xeno, you’re so close.” Those words burned his ear and bounced around his head like a vibrating echo with nowhere to go. Another chilling shiver raced up his back and melted at the base of his neck where the small hairs stood on end.
“Stan~” Xeno couldn’t stop the name from falling out of the cage of his teeth. Pale eyelids fluttered shut and squeezed together, willing the judging eyes of his room to disappear into the nothingness. There, in the deep void of his sightless dance, all he knew was pleasure. He could feel the slick rubbing of his strained dick against the soft caress of his pillow, the way the cotton inside it was weighed down by his mess of pre-cum, and the warm kiss of summer’s heat upon his shaky shaft.
His fingers played with his nipple, giving it kind touches before turning rough once more; pulling the pliable skin far from his body and forcing his muscles to tense in pain. His brow scrunched and a groan vibrated against the white fabric of his shirt, still jailed by his teeth biting the frayed threads of it like it were his last meal.
“You can do it. Hurry up and cum, Xe.”
Fires, floods, electrical jolts, and so much more wreaked havoc on Xeno’s body and psyche, as the orgasm that had been just out of reach, came crashing down. His dick twitched and pulsed as he shot a load from the overstimulated tip. His eyes snapped open in time to see the translucent liquid fly through the air and make a mess of his carpet. His head launched back as the mental pleasure swirled and mixed with bodily bliss. Stan’s excited smile was all his hazy eyes could make out while a second tsunami of rapturous glory crashed against his bones. A loud moan poured like a waterfall from his lips as his jaw was forced open in his unending orgasm.
Xeno had lost count of just how many times his dick jumped and pulsed, pushing out the last dribbles of his semen before shooting blanks. He finally slacked, completely melting in Stan’s hands. The blond boy guided him down, letting his halo of silver tresses lay atop his thighs as the world raced around him. A satisfied sigh fluttered from taut lips like a butterfly birthed into the beautiful world.
“Feel good?” Stan’s voice cut through the relaxing haze of his afterglow. Xeno nodded his head, shifting shadows across his face and allowing a stream of sunlight to glitter along his short eyelashes. “It’s never been that good when I play with myself. You might be onto something here, Xeno.”
A dull chill of melting ice traced Xeno’s back. That one word graciously spoken by his smiling friend was heavenly. Xeno didn’t dare confess that he’d never felt that good on his own either. If he played it off as normal, perhaps Stanley wouldn’t press him about the way his member twitched each time that single word gifted his eardrums with an angel’s song.
Xeno should get up, launched into shame and horror once more as the post-orgasm clarity washed over him, but he couldn’t be bothered with such trivial things. All he wanted was to lounge in Stan’s embrace a little longer; to enjoy the radiating warmth of his friend and the way those tan fingers lightly played with the messy strands of hair that broke from his pompadour. Xeno dared to feign exhaustion for just a little longer so he could melt into the moment. He’d worry about damage control later.