Work Text:
Erik didn’t have much time.
It was absolutely juvenile, really. The way a passing few words from a few young boys between classes could put his body in such a state. You know the shade of a guy’s lips are the same color as the tip of his dick, right? Sean had said in passing, probably trying to fluster some pretty mutant girl with such brash language. It didn’t work, of course - Sean’s attempts at flirting rarely did, but pathetically…his words didn’t exactly go unnoticed.
And Erik found himself in the fucking broom closet, cock in hand almost as soon as he shut the door behind him.
He’d have to be fast about this, as there wasn’t a lock on the door handle to keep anybody out. Sure, he could probably hold the handle shut fairly easily if he concentrated, but that concentration was more than likely to break at some point in the next few minutes. With as hazy as his mind was, he’d probably have trouble even keeping a small coin afloat for the duration of his session. Just as well, though, Erik probably wouldn’t last long enough for anybody to realize he was gone anyway.
His pace was almost painful - he hadn’t bothered to slowly warm up his cock with a few long, soft strokes at first. His body leaning up against the door, his hand worked furiously, desperate to just relieve himself from the pressure that had been building in his balls, his cock, almost reaching the inner flesh of his thighs. He wasn’t sure of the last time he needed an orgasm this badly - but it was a long time ago.
Even if what Sean had said wasn’t true, Erik was absolutely drunk on the picture of Charles with his little red lips, his little red, throbbing cock…
He’d been trying to paint a picture of Charles’ naked body for far longer than he was willing to admit. How his ass would look outside of his slightly-too-tight pants, the way his chest might hitch when he takes Erik into him for the first time. Which was humiliating, being as Charles had access to all of that knowledge, and Erik hoped to hell that he’d respected his wish to stay out of those corners of his mind.
But being able to visualize in detail the color his cock would flush as he neared his orgasm…
…Charles would probably need a lobotomy to block out the volume of those thoughts.
Erik was biting down on the back of his free hand now. Not that it was doing him any good. Breathless, achy grunts and huffs still filled the room, probably leaking out to the other side of the door at this point. If anyone was standing at the other side of it, they’d surely know what he was doing in there. But even that couldn’t get him to stop himself.
You’re listening in, aren’t you?
Erik gripped his cock harder than would ever be considered comfortable, his speed increasing to something that would probably ache for a great long while after this. This was the point where he didn’t care. Charles would know by now, there was absolutely no way that the image of his red little cock slamming hard into the back of Erik’s throat would be diluted before it reached him. He may as well own it.
You can hear me. You can hear me think about how you look when you cum your little brains out. I bet you cum so pretty, Charles.
Erik’s groans continued to escalate in volume the closer he got. It wouldn’t be long now. His cock was sore, his arm and hand exhausted, but he maintained his pace and intensity despite it. Maybe Charles could feel it too.
You like that? You like the way I fucking strip my fucking cock like this? I bet you fucking love it. You love that I’ve wanted to fuck your tight little asshole since I saw you in the ocean. Fuck.
He was so fucking close.
You know what I want to do to you? You do, don’t you. You fucking know I want to make you cum and cum and cum. I want you to cum in my mouth, on my face, in my fucking eyes for all I fucking care. I want to make you cum until you’re shooting fucking dry.
And that was it.
The image of Charles writhing with a dry orgasm, physically unable to pump out any more cum out of his tense little balls, sent Erik over the edge. And when he came, he came hard.
It actually sort of hurt, the way he released into his hand. His balls tightening up fast, shooting hot come all over the wall, his pants, his fingers. Erik shouted, not even bothering with the volume anymore, bucking into his hand as he rode out his orgasm.
Fuck.
It hurt even more after he was done - his cock had been practically rubbed raw from his grip, his arm was terribly sore. It took him a good three minutes of leaning up against the wall, unmoving, before he actually wiped himself off and pulled his pants back on.
He’d face Charles later, maybe.
But probably not.
