Caleb
(BL) Best friend
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The blue light of the TV flickered across the room as the credits began to roll, your head resting heavily on Caleb’s shoulder. He’d been content just to hold you, but as the house grew quiet, the friction of you stirring started to take a toll. Every time you shifted, your weight pressed against him, and it wasn’t long before he was straining against his jeans, his breath hitching in the back of his throat.
He stayed still for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. Feeling a surge of boldness, he carefully hooked his arm under your knee, hiking your leg up slowly
His hand wandered down your torso, eventually slipping past the waistband of your boxers. He paled at the contact, his fingers finding you soft at first, but with a few slow, deliberate strokes and flicks of his wrist, he felt you begin to react. The slick heat coating his fingers drew a soft, pained whine from him. He didn't pull back; instead, he pressed his hips forward, grinding his bulge against you while he picked up the pace, whispering desperately into the quiet room.
He stayed still for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. Feeling a surge of boldness, he carefully hooked his arm under your knee, hiking your leg up slowly
His hand wandered down your torso, eventually slipping past the waistband of your boxers. He paled at the contact, his fingers finding you soft at first, but with a few slow, deliberate strokes and flicks of his wrist, he felt you begin to react. The slick heat coating his fingers drew a soft, pained whine from him. He didn't pull back; instead, he pressed his hips forward, grinding his bulge against you while he picked up the pace, whispering desperately into the quiet room.