Chapter Text
This is how it goes. His boyfriend, Sephiroth, likes to watch him get fucked by other men. And tells him to choose the bull.
Cloud’s supposed to pick someone tonight.
It’s not hard to get attention, but somehow, they’re never bothered by the fact that he has a cunt. Not that they should be, because there’s absolutely nothing wrong with having a cunt, of course. But the men he picks up usually end up surprised, and that’s strangely validating in a way. They just tell him how pretty and wet he is for them, and groan as Cloud spreads his legs for their eager, throbbing cocks.
Tifa keeps saying that he has shitty taste in men. And in all fairness, she’s probably right. For the last half year, she’d been nagging him about breaking up with Sephiroth, and that their fifteen-year age gap is gross, and that he could do better, but Cloud knows that he can’t.
None of his ex-boyfriends were any better. Some were mean in bed. Others never picked up the check. Most of them forgot his birthday. The worst ones kept him a dirty little secret.
So where exactly is he supposed to find this magical, imaginary, better guy?
At least Sephiroth buys him things and pays for dinners and enjoys showing him off. He even started paying for Cloud’s tuition after Cloud’s mom got laid off for a while, which was pretty nice of him, actually.
It’s not like he’s unaware that Sephiroth likes having control over him. The fact that he loves watching the videos Cloud takes as proof, shaming him for coming with someone else’s dick inside him, knowing that Cloud would do anything and everything that Sephiroth asks, even without all those favors to be indebted by. Humiliating him for being such a dumb, easy slut, but Cloud can’t tell how genuine Sephiroth is when he says those things, since he loves to talk dirty.
But the attention feels really good. Sephiroth’s warm, approving smile feels good. All those cocks feel good inside his pussy, even though Cloud sometimes wishes that he didn’t have one. Some guys will fuck his cunt, others his mouth. Sometimes they’ll eat out both holes while he sucks their dicks.
It’s nice to feel wanted, at least—and a lot of the time, that actually feels better than the orgasm.
What’s annoying is that all the testosterone injections make Cloud painfully, irritatingly horny. Some days all he can think about is cock and the aching, empty void between his legs; deprived, as if it’s begging to be filled with something. Like some kind of animal in heat. His pussy lips get so swollen with need that he has to resist the urge to masturbate during class. And Sephiroth won’t be pleased until he accomplishes the task he was given, so…
Cloud’s out at a club tonight. Dressed in a cropped black hoodie paired with a belted, pleated miniskirt; dark thigh-high stockings with black garters above it, and a velour choker. Lips rosy, and the rest of his face bare. And for whatever reason, converse hi-top sneakers. Sephiroth bought this outfit for him—Cloud doesn’t particularly like it himself—he kinda hates it, actually, although he would never voice that complaint aloud—but it somehow signals to interested bypassers that he’s an easy hookup.
At least he gets to choose the guy.
He scans around the room, trying to find someone reasonably decent-looking, horny, and preferably, someone who doesn’t give off super bad or serial killer vibes.
Unfortunately for Cloud, his eyes end up landing right on ex-boyfriend number one. And Zack’s looking right back at him before he can run away. Smiling. Smug. His stomach does little flip-flops. Walking casually over, a silver can of beer in one hand. Familiar golden skin and jet-black hair, handsome eyes raking across his outfit, drinking in the sight while taking a sip.
“Almost didn’t recognize you like this.”
Cloud folds his arms over his chest, body tensed, and it takes him a moment to find his voice, which comes out as a rasp. “Fuck off.”
“Nice to see you too.” Zack sweeps heavy-lidded eyes over him, staring too long at the thigh highs. “Thought you hated this shit.”
While it’s true that Zack never went out in public with him, he did always pay attention to what Cloud liked. And what he didn’t. But he would sooner leap off a cliff than acknowledge that to his face.
“Whatever. I’d ask how’s life, but then,” he says flatly, “I remembered that I don’t care.”
“I’ve been great, actually.” Zack’s sunny smile does something searing and bittersweet to Cloud’s insides; his throat tightens and his toes curl against the sneakers’ soles. “Just got signed to the AFC South division. Made it to the big leagues.” He tilts his head to one side, a dark strand of hair dangling against his forehead. “You could still try, you know. There aren’t any rules against it. Women’s team, maybe, but not for guys.”
Cloud narrows his eyes. The room is chilly, and the intense heat coming off of Zack’s body, along with the rich musk of his aftershave, overpowers the space between them. “Not interested anymore.”
“That’s too bad. I think you have potential, sport.” Zack leans a shoulder against the wall and takes another sip of his beer.
A brief, awkward silence lingers in the air. It’s true that Zack’s not nearly as good of a guy as he thinks he is, but he’s not a complete jerk, either.
“Congratulations,” Cloud says quietly.
“Thanks. And how have you been doing?” He takes another sip, staring down at him, and Zack’s still annoyingly, aggravatingly hot. Still two heads taller than him. Cloud can feel his panties starting to get wet, and a particular smile curves onto Zack’s lips, like he knows.
“Fine,” he says, lips tight. Cloud doesn’t know whether that’s a lie or not—most people don’t expect an honest answer anyway.
A warm, roughened finger slips beneath one garter belt, stroking the smooth, pale skin beneath it. “What’re you all dressed up for?” Zack asks, voice low.
“Nothing.”
“You’ve never been very good at lying.” He pulls on the garter lightly, then releases it, and it snaps harshly against Cloud’s skin, leaving an irritating sting. “Except to yourself, maybe.”
He’s such a dick sometimes.
“That’s not true.” Cloud puts on a hollow, sweet little smile. “I told you how good you fuck. And you believed me.”
Zack puts the beer down onto the shelf beside them with a hard clink, and that must’ve gotten under his skin. Because he’s so used to being told how great he is; of course he is. “Like I said, you’re such a bad liar.” Abruptly, he slams a palm against the wall, hard, backing Cloud into it. “You want me to prove it?”
It would be menacing if it were anyone besides Zack. A shiver runs down along Cloud’s spine, goosebumps prickling all over his skin. “I have a boyfriend.”
“Is that right? I don’t see anyone with you.” A large hand runs slowly down along his hip, then slides back up to his waist, fingers fitting around his back like Cloud is his. “Pretty little thing like you, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. Especially not dressed like this.” The shape of Zack’s generous lips border on scornful. “If he exists, he’s a moron.”
Cloud kicks at Zack’s spotless, limited-edition sneakers, and he likes them much better than the Converses. “I’m serious, I do.”
“Spike,” he says hoarsely, voice rough with lust, the heady scent of alcohol lingering after the nickname. Zack’s thumb slips up an inch past the hem of the hoodie, then runs along the faint scar tissue beneath it. “Just say you don’t want it, and I’ll leave you alone.”
Cloud frowns, and stays silent.
“You’re wet for me already.”
He doesn’t need to know that it’s true. Although on nights like these, he’d get wet for pretty much anyone. It’s pathetic.
“You’re so full of yourself,” Cloud mutters, shoving Zack’s wrist down and away.
Zack’s not discouraged at all, but he doesn’t act offended. Instead, he tips Cloud’s chin up, and he hates the way that makes him melt, helplessly, just from a single finger resting beneath his jaw. “Am I wrong?”
They’d broken up and gotten back together dozens of times until Cloud finally told him to fuck off. Tifa had been so proud of him. Until he went and fell for some other asshole, this nepo baby who treated him like a piece of property. Then a mafia psycho with a pottymouth and no morals. After that, a guy who professed love more often for his bike than he ever did for Cloud.
Maybe he just likes them bad.
Maybe Cloud isn’t any better.
“I don’t think I can do this with you,” he says under his breath.
Sephiroth never explicitly said that he couldn’t, but it just feels… wrong, somehow. Like actually cheating. He had felt nothing for the random men just looking for a hookup. No emotions attached. Just fucking, and that’s all it was.
This would be different. Wouldn’t it?
“Why not? You’re obviously looking to get some action tonight. Better me than some random guy you don’t even know.”
Cloud bites his tongue, trying not to bark out that he’d already done exactly that, dozens of times. Tifa would kill him if she knew. Zack might not look at him the same way.
“What do you say? For old time’s sake?” Zack’s grip runs possessively up and down his waist, his voice growing huskier. “Moving south in a couple of months. Won’t run into me that often anymore.”
This is a bad idea.
It’s a bad idea, right?
A terrible idea. The worst idea he’s ever had, actually, and he’s had plenty.
Half of them started with the letter R.
“Okay,” Cloud says, despite himself, arms still crossed. “Fine. But I have some terms.”
“Go on.”
“No coming inside.” Zack actually pouts. He loved to creampie him when they were dating-but-not-dating. “No kissing.” He stares up at Zack’s eyes, which darken with want despite the disappointment. “And I have to record it.”
“Are you planning on blackmailing me, kiddo?” The hand slides down to his ass, squeezing it as sweetly as a peach he’d hate to bruise. Zack’s throaty voice lowers to a whisper as his lips brush against the curve of Cloud’s ear. “The guys already know I play for both teams now. I fucked a few of them, actually.”
Cloud frowns, and—he’s not jealous. He’s not. “Do you really think I’d do that?”
“No. M’just saying.” He takes a step back, and presses his lips together. “And I wanted to say to you that I’m sorry for treating you that way back then. You deserved better than that.”
The sincerity on his stupid, handsome face makes Cloud want to curl up and die. This is the very last thing he needs. Ugh. He needs a reason to hate Zack, not… whatever this is.
“Would’ve apologized earlier,” Zack continues. “Tried to, but you blocked my number. And you kept avoiding me, so I stopped trying.” He pauses. “I’m sorry. I know I hurt you. It was a me problem. It was never anything to do with you.”
Now his throat’s growing tight, and Cloud clears it, trying to shove back the emotions he does not need to be having right now. And he certainly doesn’t need them on display for anyone.
“Sure. I accept your apology,” Cloud replies briskly, managing to keep his tone even. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in one of the mirrored walls, wincing, and he really hates this outfit. It barely even looks like him. Although admittedly, it does look cute. “Anyway, did you drive here? Wanna do it in your car or something?”
Zack chuckles. “I have a better idea. Follow me.”
Cloud’s brows furrow together, but he lets Zack lead him around the bar, towards the back of the club. Then his lip curls up at what’s waiting for them back there. It’s one of those cutesy photo booths.
“Here? It’s so fucking cramped.”
“Kinda hot though, no? The exposure. Sounds and shoes of people walking by.” Fingertips tracing the small of his back. “Keeping quiet. Plus,” he says, sliding both hands around Cloud’s small waist, wrapping around the span of it, “there’s a screen where we can watch ourselves.”
Cloud kinda buys it. He didn’t ever let Zack take any videos, but they would often do it in front of all the mirrors in Zack’s bedroom, which was kinda hot. But he still frowns at the proposition. Looking around, there’s foot traffic, but not too much of it.
“It’s cozy,” Zack coos. He steps in first, then pulls the curtain half-open, winking at him.
Reluctantly, Cloud follows him and steps into the booth.
Zack’s drunken eyes rove over him in a satisfied way, like he’s won a prize of some sort. The scent of him is even stronger in the small, enclosed space, and Cloud could drown in it. It’s making him even wetter.
“Sit in my lap,” he says, staring at Cloud’s thighs again.
Cloud obliges, and something hot and thick and hard immediately twitches up against his ass.
“Mmm.” Zack’s large, possessive hands run all over his thighs, then up his hips, and his ribs. Nose running along the crook of Cloud’s neck. “You said you wanted to record?”
“Yeah.”
“Put your phone up on the ledge there.”
Cloud gets up and sets it up in selfie mode, heart thumping maddeningly as he hits the red record button. Like he’s doing something wrong. This is such a bad idea. He can already hear Tifa lecturing him, even though he’s never going to tell her. Whatever, and he can just trim the video to give Sephiroth enough of what he wants, maybe crop out Zack’s head if needed.
“Good boy,” Zack says deliberately with a smirk, knowing exactly what he’s doing to him, and Cloud’s panties grow more damp. Sephiroth picked them out for him too—a light blue cotton one with a tiny little bow on top. He picks everything. “Back in my lap now.”
In front of them are the two screens, the booth’s larger one acting like a mirror, and Cloud watches as Zack’s hand crawls up and disappears beneath his skirt. Rubbing the damp cotton, along his slit, and Cloud’s hips twitch, teeth biting down on his lips to hold back the awful, guttural moans threatening to escape his throat. He could always make Cloud come with just his hands, although his body craves cock more right now.
“You still shave?” The finger runs along the cleft between his pussy lips, up and down. Tapping on his taint wetly through the damp fabric. Then over his asshole.
“Wax it.” Which he doesn’t like, because he has to go to some stupid salon to get it done by a stranger, has to out himself to some beautician girl, but Sephiroth bought him all those gift certificates, so. It’d be rude not to accept.
The large, bronzed hand possessively strokes him down there, cupping him, Zack’s cock getting harder as he does so. It stops just short of the peak of his clit, a finger resting there. Teeth biting down on his ear lobe. “Can I still call it the p word? Do you mind?”
Zack always loved dirty talk too. And those moments when he tries to act extra considerate are the hardest, because of all the ones where he doesn’t. It’s so annoying.
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“I forgot how responsive your pussy is,” he murmurs. “You were so wet that first time.” The finger goes back to stroking along his slit, grazing softer along his clit, and that makes a pathetic whimper come out of Cloud’s throat, his thighs shifting over Zack’s far more muscular ones beneath him. “Fuck, baby, you’re soaked.”
Back then, he was so innocent, so naive, that it embarrassed Cloud when he didn’t even understand why he got so wet, or why Zack had been so pleased by it. Zack had to teach him everything.
He hums against Cloud’s neck, and his long fingers go back to circling around the outer lips, avoiding the more sensitive spots just long enough to be excruciating; occasionally stroking along the slit for relief. Another hand slips up his shirt and circles around a nipple the same way, making Cloud bite back another moan. He’s always known how to play Cloud like a fiddle.
And he did.
His heart pulses faster in his chest whenever feet go past the little gap between the floor and the curtain, especially when Zack lifts his skirt up. On the screen, it’s still obvious how wet he is, the panties darker in the bottom half of the triangle. Zack pulls Cloud’s top higher too, exposing his chest, his nipples, palm resting over the thudding pulse.
He teases at a nipple, brushing the pad of a thumb over it, and it stiffens immediately, while Cloud bites back another whimper.
“Shhh. Can’t say I hate hearing you moan, but keep it low.” Zack’s hand caresses his pulsating pussy, a middle finger circling around his rim through the thin fabric, spreading around some of the sticky dampness to it. Slipping underneath the cotton. “Fuck, I wanna eat you out both ways. But it’s probably too cramped in here.”
Zack had done that before—given him all those new sensations: a warm, textured tongue in his asshole; silky fingers dipping in and out of his pussy; hot salty come sliding down his throat and filling his mouth, and his body remembers; it can’t help but respond to his words and his touch.
But he wanted to forget—forget everything about him.
“I forgot how fucking pretty you are, Spike,” he whispers over Cloud’s ear.
“You have a shit memory then.” He’d always had that going for him, at least.
“You’re so moody. I can always tell when you’re ovulating.”
“That’s gross, Zack.”
“Nah. I’m serious. There’s like some pheromones coming off or something, like it makes me want you more, too.”
Now that Zack said that, yeah, he had woken up unreasonably horny this morning, and couldn’t manage to get himself off after a whole hour, to his own annoyance, and Sephiroth’s still waiting for Cloud’s weekly cuckholding evidence. So he’d been painfully unsatisfied and yet aroused all day.
Zack pulls the thin cotton fabric to the side, then yanks it up, bunching it against Cloud’s slit, and runs his fingers along his outer lips. “You’ve always had such a pretty pink pussy too. So smooth and tight. Tightest pussy I’ve ever had.” The tip of his nose traces along the edge of his ear, breath fragrant with beer. “I think it should be on our little video, don’t you?”
Admittedly, it had been Zack who had made him feel less repulsed about himself, seeing that as a part Zack praised, put his mouth on, worshipped. He’d come over and over against Zack’s tongue and lips, his cock, his fingers. Like borrowed confidence.
He finally pulls Cloud’s panties down, and it makes him panic for a moment, all the ambient, distant chatter and footsteps outside the booth, and then staring at his own bare pussy on the screen, large bronze hands kneading it like dough. Possessively cupping it, fingers spreading the lips, glistening webs of arousal clinging to them as they dip into his folds.
Cloud lets out a stifled, horny moan, shutting both eyes so that he doesn’t have to witness his own shameful reaction.
“Remember how shy you were?” Zack’s middle finger circles down around his opening, dipping in slightly. “How nervous? To show me for the first time?”
What a stupid little virgin he was. Zack had been his whole world back then.
And that’s why it had been so hard to let go.
The palms go underneath his hips, and then a zipper’s being pulled down, and something thick and hard slaps up against him, the solid heat of it gliding along his ass and pussy.
Zack groans, pushing his cock up slowly between Cloud’s thighs, hips shifting him up a little in his lap. The head of it briefly parts his pussy lips, rubbing against his clit, like a thick hot dog spreading the halves of a bun, and Cloud whimpers against his will. The sight of it is so obscene that it’s making him more aroused, wetter, and what will Sephiroth think when he sees it?
Cloud tries to swallow the bitter taste of guilt down. Sephiroth likes it when he gets fucked by other guys. He likes hearing the details. He wants to know exactly how they made him come, and how long it took to get him there. How big their cocks were, and whether he liked the shape of them, and if they fit any better than his. How pretty they told him he was, and what their come tasted like. So he’ll like it—of course he will.
He doesn’t have to know that it’s an ex.
“God, I missed this,” Zack groans, rubbing his hard, stiff cock along his pussy lips, the silky head nudging deliciously against the hood of his clit. His cock’s so big. One of the bigger ones he’s had.
“Stop talking so much,” Cloud mumbles. He’s definitely gonna have to cut the audio out of this one somehow, or trim the length.
Zack pinches one of his nipples, harsh and deliberate. Then rubs his thumb back and forth over it in a way that has Cloud sucking in an icy breath. “You know I love talking. I know you like it too, don’t pretend you don’t.” He stops thrusting his hips, cock throbbing and unbearably hot against the layers of his lips. Then it slides up, slowly, slowly again, grazing over his clit, then down, down again.
Cloud says nothing, but his throbbing, wet cunt is doing all the talking for him.
“It’s okay if I don’t wear a condom, right, Spike?” Zack’s entitled that way. Never liked using them, although he always tested clean. But reckless enough that Zack didn’t seem to care about potentially getting Cloud knocked up, either, and he was too naive to use birth control. Thank god he never got pregnant, though.
Cloud usually does make them wear one. If they don’t, he tells them to fuck off.
“As long as you don’t put it inside,” he snaps, shifting over Zack’s lap.
“I can hotdog your pussy?”
He knows that Cloud can definitely get off that way. And Zack always did too. He’d do that whenever he wanted to edge Cloud, going so slow that he begged for it; then he’d be so wet that Zack could slip inside by accident, and sometimes whined until Cloud let him. “Yeah, just don’t come inside me. Okay? I mean it.”
“Where can I come then?”
“I don’t know,” Cloud says, annoyed. “Where do you want to come?”
“On your tongue.” A warm palm caresses one of his cheeks on his lap, cupping it possessively, then gives it a rough slap before grabbing it again. “Or maybe your cute little ass.”
He always chose to come inside or against one hole or another, even if there hadn’t been any penetration, enjoying the way Cloud would flinch when the heat landed on him. Something about porn and moneyshots and how good he looks like that. Marking him like territory.
But he’s not Zack’s. Not anymore.
Cloud makes a face at the thought of Zack’s sticky come combined with his messy, nearly ruined panties. Just the shame he’d feel if he walked back with all that before he could shower. Although Sephiroth wouldn’t mind finding leftover evidence. He’d probably like it, actually. “Tongue is fine. But don’t get any on my face.”
“Okay, whatever you want, babe.”
He holds the sides of Cloud’s hips together, thrusting his cock up slowly into the gap between his thighs. Then Zack pulls his panties back up over both of them, and it looks kind of ridiculous, with Zack’s cock tenting the fabric every time he thrusts up. Almost like Cloud’s got an actual dick, inflating erectly with each of Zack’s grunts and thrusts, while the tip rubs back and forth against his clit.
Watching that fills Cloud with some weird mixture of envy and pleasure. It’s like how he used to feel binding his chest; liking what he saw in the mirror for one brief, fleeting moment. There hasn’t been much growth for him so far, which was a disappointment, but his clit’s more prominent when aroused.
He used to want to be Zack so bad. He’s everything Cloud’s lacking in.
Zacks smells so good, and this feels so good, and it shouldn’t, it shouldn’t, and he’s nibbling Cloud’s ear, lewdly rubbing his own cock through Cloud’s panties, finger slipping underneath to graze his clit, and wetness is gushing from his hole, assisting the slow glide against his private parts.
“Missed this so much,” Zack whispers against his jaw, kissing it. That doesn’t count, he guesses, but Cloud feels guilty anyway.
Once the need starts getting so overwhelming that he can’t overthink things anymore, Cloud can only focus on giving his aching cunt relief.
“Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, gripping tightly onto a handle on one side of the booth. “Go faster already, you’re taking too damn long.”
“You’re so cute.” Zack smiles against his cheek, pleased. “Not that innocent little eighteen-year-old virgin anymore. Turned you into such a fucking little slut, didn’t I?” He yanks Cloud’s panties down to his knees again, and his heart flutters.
Yeah, he was nothing like this before. Wouldn’t be caught dead naked in front of anyone else. Would’ve never asked anyone out. Cloud’s not the same person at all anymore, and he’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
“Faster,” he mutters, grinding his ass back over Zack’s lap.
“Say you want my cock, then.”
“Wanna come,” Cloud complains under his breath, squirming as the head of Zack’s cock parts his pussy lips again. Then again. And again. They make a lewd squelch as his slick flesh accommodates its girth. It’s so good, but it’s not enough.
Zack stops moving, then grips the base of his cock. Tapping the head up against his clit a few times, then he clears his throat obnoxiously. “Say it, baby.”
“Want your cock,” he whispers, a little pathetically. In more ways than one.
“Say, want your cock, Daddy.”
What is it with guys wanting him to call them Daddy? It’s annoying him right now, and he blows out an irritated breath. “Please. You’re like, two years older than me.”
The cock taps against his clit again, too hard, and Cloud flinches in Zack’s lap. Then the cockhead teases torturously just below it, refusing to give the peak any proper pressure.
“Yeah. But I’m still older. Say it.”
“Want your cock, Daddy,” he blurts out quickly, cheeks hot, and Sephiroth’s face flashes shamefully in his mind. It’s not like he ever said that Cloud couldn’t call anyone else that, but his stomach churns with guilt.
“There we go. Knew you could follow instructions well. You always do.” His bright grin above Cloud’s head reminds him of the Cheshire Cat—disembodied, crafty. Speaking in riddles. Zack’s large palms press his hips together again. “Keep ’em tight for me. Gonna fuck your engorged little clit now.”
His cock pushes more furiously now, pressing up between his lips, parting them briefly with each wet sound, enclosing the column of meat as much as he can against his slit. Cloud imagines this is how it might feel like with two cocks rubbing together, and Zack hammers his strong hips up, pressing his thighs so tight together it’s like he wants to be engulfed by Cloud’s flesh.
“Fuck,” Cloud whispers.
“Yeah, let me pound that pussy,” he groans hoarsely against Cloud’s nape. Cologne and alcohol with each hot breath. It feels so good, Zack’s thick, slick, meaty cock forcing his lips apart, tip gliding against his taint and holes and then back again, the heel of a palm hovering over his mound, rubbing against his clit as Zack bounces him hard up and down his lap. “Soaking wet, you slut.”
Cloud whimpers.
Zack chuckles and grips his mouth and chin once Cloud can’t hold back the shameful moans anymore. “Not so loud, baby. I love to hear it, though.”
“Oh, fuck.” Cloud moans against his palm. The hand glides down to curl around his throat, then aggressively gropes the rest of his torso. Chiseled hips hammering up against his ass so roughly that it’ll leave bruises later, and Cloud’s hole is aching, sopping wet, and he wants it in, but he also doesn’t, and he doesn’t want Zack to come inside him.
“Sure you don’t want it inside?” Zack asks in a cocky way. “It’ll feel real good. Promise.” The silky head of his cock glides over his front hole, teasing it slowly, and the flesh there pulses, yielding, trying to invite him in without Cloud’s permission.
Cloud jerks up away from the tip. He’s so ashamed, because this still feels so wrong, but he just wants to come and be done. “Don’t, please,” he mutters.
“Okay,” Zack murmurs. “Okay, Spike.” Instead, he slams strong hips up against his ass, rhythm full of hard staccato notes, rock-hard erection rubbing against his clit. The loud slaps of sex fill the air inside the booth along with their filthy moans, and Zack bounces him harder and harder over his lap. Breathing against his neck, the rhythm starts stuttering; bronze fingers dragging his top up higher, thumbnail scraping over a nipple with each vicious slap slap slap, and that finally does it—Cloud’s stomach and thigh muscles tighten as he cries out; the low, heated core of him races with a wild pulse, moan caught in his throat, and he comes helplessly in waves, folds throbbing around the cock moving up and down between his pussy lips.
“That’s right, come for Daddy,” Zack groans into his ear, two fingers rubbing up and down the sides of his hard clit, then Zack inserts them briefly inside of Cloud, and another orgasm crashes through him; clenching during the crescendo as they dip in and out of him, and it lasts much longer than the usual, each subsiding wave so good that it feels like it won’t ever stop. Then another shudders through him. And another.
Sephiroth’s the only other one who managed to give him multiples. Cloud’s not sure whether to tell him about this particular detail later; whether he’ll be pleased or unhappy about it.
The ugly post-nut clarity finally hits just as Zack’s muscular arms hug around him from behind, tightly, grunting as he keeps thrusting between his thighs, the pace both sweet and punishing, growing more aggressive, and Cloud knows what that means.
“Get on your knees. Real quick.” Zack stands on his feet, breathing hard.
It feels so dirty. Sticky panties clinging around his knees, gleaming wetness webbed between his thighs, as he looks up at Zack’s backlit, smiling face, standing high up above him. Zack’s fist shuttles back and forth over his cock, close enough that Cloud can feel its heat hovering near his face, close enough that Zack could slap him with it. But he opens his mouth anyway, and waits, shivering as the first hot ropes of salty come land on his tongue.
“Just like that, baby,” Zack grunts, gripping the back of Cloud’s blond, tousled hair with a fist, tapping the head of his cock against the center of his tongue, smearing the sticky semen around on its surface. “Fuck, that’s good.” The cock then slides down further back, startling him, but Cloud immediately relaxes his throat to accommodate it. “God, you look so good like this. So pretty with my cock and come in your mouth.”
Cloud’s now-empty pussy still throbs in response to every word of praise, slick arousal dripping out and down, and he’s not a cumdump, he’s pretty, and he only swallows the bitter taste because that’s the way Zack likes it, and if anyone’s terrible here, it’s Cloud, because Zack doesn’t believe that he really has a boyfriend.
Hot, salty come spurts down the back of his throat, almost as hot and salty as the tears that prick at the corners of his eyes, and it’s just that he’s so big, just like Sephiroth is, and Cloud wants to do a good job, even though he doesn’t know what for.
Zack pulls him back up into his lap, heavy-lidded gaze facing him this time. Hand going back down between his thighs, stroking his pussy, and they return shiny and wet. Then he licks each finger like he’s finishing up an indulgent meal. “Was it good? Want me to eat you out?”
“No.” The shame’s too overwhelming now, and the desperate need to have sex is finally gone. And Zack munches pussy like he’s at a buffet, going back for seconds and thirds until he’s full. He’d spend all day eating Cloud out if he could. “Thanks. I should, um, go back to the dorms now.” He feels too pathetically small on Zack’s lap, smaller than ever, just his shadow, and slinks off of it.
“So this is goodbye?” Nostalgia fills his tone, a stupid puppy dog expression on Zack’s dumb face as he pouts.
“Yeah.” Cloud rolls his eyes, then peels off the panties, balling them up with a grimace, and he shoves them inside the central pocket of his hoodie. “Consider it a going away present.”
Zack stands back up, zipping his jeans, all broad tan muscle, and he’s nearly too tall to fit in the photobooth like that, shoulders and head dipped slightly to not hit his head. “Well, you could unblock me, you know.”
“Why?” Cloud rolls his eyes again. “So you can send me dick pics at two AM? Leave me voicemails of you jerking off?”
“Speaking of which, your video is still going.”
“Oh.” Cloud snatches his phone back from off the built-in shelf, then stops the video.
“You’re not sending it to me then?”
“Nope,” he mutters. Cloud tries to stuff the phone in his pocket, but then remembers there’s no pockets on this fucking skirt. Ugh. Who designs this shit. If it were him, he’d put in pockets.
“That’s fine, I guess. You have my permission to beat off to it whenever you miss me.” He grins wide, that same sunny grin that always made his heart flutter, but now just manages to piss him off.
Resisting the urge to throw something at him, Cloud adjusts his thigh highs, one foot on the bench. Re-tying his shoelaces, watching Zack watching the curve of his legs from the corner of his eyes.
Actually, goodbyes always make him cry. The last time it did, too, so he doesn’t want to look at Zack. He doesn’t want to stay stuck in that memory.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” Zack grabs his shoulder gently as he steps out of the booth.
“Yeah. You too.”
Cloud lets out a quiet sigh, shoulders sinking, then leaves without turning back.