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What kind of message is this to receive at 9 in the morning?
The pleasant background hubbub of the cafe dulls as Dimitri tries to understand the message on his lock screen. The words all make sense. They even make sense in the order that they were sent in. But still, bewilderment and alarm dance an uneasy waltz in his stomach.
“Dimitri?” Shez waves a hand in his airspace, but Dimitri’s too preoccupied with the little text notification on his phone.
He’s not imagining this, right? He unlocks his phone and scrolls up to their previous conversation.
It’s real.
More than anything else, Dimitri's mind spins like a frenzied unicyclist, caught on a single bizarre thought.
Couldn’t Felix have asked about the size of his manhood in person?
They had been together not an hour ago, in Dimitri’s cozy kitchen, doing the weird little morning ritual that Dimitri has become accustomed to over the last year. The one where Dimitri pretends not to see Felix pretending to glare at him, all while Felix helps himself to the plastic caddy of tea canisters in the pantry and Dimitri’s sad freezer stash of pre-sliced bread.
Everyone knows they’re on good terms nowadays, good enough terms that Felix has made a habit of coming over after midnight to wrest Dimitri’s ever-accumulating pile of weekend work away. Good enough terms that Dimitri feels comfortable with — and, in truth, a little giddy about — leaving Felix alone in his home on a Sunday morning.
Felix insists on the charade of glaring and huffing and sharp words, but Dimitri knows it’s all for show. Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like being the recipient of Felix’s strange brand of affection. Sometimes he wonders if there’s something wrong with him, that Felix’s vicious, angry bread buttering could inspire such yearning in him.
“Earth to Dimitri! Everything okay over there?”
“Oh, Shez, my apologies.” Dimitri starts. He locks his phone and sets it face down. “I was distracted for a moment.”
“Felix again?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m pretty certain there are only a few people who can put that look on your face, and I’m positive only one of them would text before business hours.” Shez laughs and leans closer over the table, dropping their voice. “Hey, you guys are together, right?”
Dimitri splutters. He tries so hard to keep his feelings from overflowing, but it seems anyone with eyes can tell, except for Felix. “Together? Felix and I? Certainly not.”
“Huh. I could have sworn you two were, you know.” Shez gives him a quizzical look and links their pointer fingers together.
“No, we’re just friends,” Dimitri insists. Felix is a friend who asks about the size of Dimitri’s endowment. Dimitri is a friend who’s been in a one-sided love with Felix for half of his life.
Mercifully, Shez changes the topic. “So where were we again?”
Finally, solid ground, and Dimitri is glad for it. “You were suggesting we reach out to Siward, correct?”
“Yeah, Siward and Ordelia would definitely be down. Plus I’m pretty cool with Lysithea these days,” Shez says, and then laughs wryly as Dimitri’s phone buzzes on the table. “Go ahead. If it’s Felix, it’s probably important.”
The message knocks Dimitri off kilter.
Is Felix a psychic? Dimitri knows his read receipts are off.
“Everything okay, Dimitri? You’re looking a little… concerned?”
“Oh,” Dimitri says. “I’m sorry. Felix just had a strange question.”
“Must have been pretty strange if it threw you for a loop,” Shez says. “Do you need some time to sort things out?”
Dimitri wants to say no, because all things considered, Felix asking about his monster cock ranks much lower on his list of priorities for the day, and certainly ranks lower than a meeting with Shez that he’s already had to reschedule three times.
On the other hand, the growing trepidation he feels about Felix asking about his monster cock is jostling and shoving that item quickly to the top of his list.
“I think it may be urgent,” Dimitri lies. “I’m sorry to ask, but…”
“I gotcha!” Shez shoots finger guns at him. “I shoulda known better than to try to catch you on a weekend. Felix is probably going to chew me out, too. I’ll find another empty space on your calendar?”
“Oh, no,” Dimitri protests as he pockets his phone. “I couldn’t ask you to do that when I’m the reason for rescheduling. I’ll add myself to your calendar later.”
“Right on,” Shez drains their cup of coffee. “I’ll see you later then?”
“Yes,” Dimitri says, “And I apologize.”
“No worries!” Shez’s grin is sunny as they push their chair back. “I hope you sort it out soon!”
Dimitri stares at the screen for a moment. The answer is… yes, probably, given what he’s heard in locker rooms and read in passing on the internet. It’s not gargantuan by any means, but Dimitri knows it’s definitely above average in length and girth, though he’s never actually stood next to someone for a little dick-measuring session. But actually coming out and saying it feels uncomfortable.
Those three dots squirm on the screen for a bit, then disappear. It’s unusual behavior for Felix, whose base texting speed is downright perturbing.
Dimitri’s a little concerned, now. What exactly has Sylvain been saying about his genitals?
Sylvain has seen his penis before. For that matter, Felix probably has, too — they were all subjected to Sylvain’s six month Sreng-style sauna phase, and they all grew up running wild in the backwoods in Fraldarius together. He’s pretty sure even Ingrid has accidentally seen him unclothed before. So why is Felix even asking?
Felix’s answer does nothing to settle his worries. Actually, the presence of the uncharacteristic typing indicator makes it worse. Dimitri distracts himself by watching Shez as they push the cafe door open. Shez lifts a hand in goodbye and Dimitri waves back, then looks down to find a new message.
Felix doesn’t respond for long enough that Dimitri’s phone screen locks itself while he waits for a response. Dimitri heaves a sigh of — relief? dissipated tension? disappointment? — and stands to bus his coffee mug.
Dimitri’s fingers pause over the rim of the mug. For a moment, it feels as if his whole body is paralyzed, save for his overloud heart. Then his thumbs move, almost on autopilot.
They’re hurtling into uncharted territory now. How many penises has Felix seen? And why must his heart clench at the thought of Felix seeing other penises? Dimitri’s thumbs founder mid-text. He thinks, firmly and rationally: Felix is allowed to look at as many genitals as he pleases. And then, his brain working overtime to defuse the emotional danger of the situation, what a ridiculous sentence.
Texting is stressful; he doesn't have any visual or vocal clues to help him decipher the intentions behind Felix’s request. He can’t imagine it to be true, but Felix might be playing some kind of cruel trick on him. And yet— his blood rushes at the thought of Felix being serious. Of Felix wanting to know all of him. Of Felix seeing him as an object of desire.
But what if this is a misunderstanding on his part, somehow? Just in case:
So he’s not misunderstanding. This is both a relief and a sudden terror. On one hand, the chances of Felix being sexually attracted to him are suddenly an unknown quantity above zero. On the other hand, if Felix isn’t impressed it might shatter Dimitri’s self-image forever. Dimitri stands up in a tizzy. His chair scrapes against the floor loudly until it knocks up against the potted plant behind him.
He can’t possibly just whip his half chub out right now. Felix would make fun of his eagerness, for one thing. And he’s in the middle of a public cafe, for another.
When he was scheduling this meeting with Shez, he’d allowed them to talk him into going to a cafe. At the time it had seemed like a great idea — the meeting agenda wasn’t anything sensitive, and Dimitri believes in staying out of the office over the weekend. Now, though, Dimitri regrets the decision: if they were in the office, he could unzip his fly in a split second.
Dimitri drops his mug off at the bussing station and makes a beeline for the bathroom.
Dimitri pushes the door to the men’s room open. It’s empty, which is a relief, because human interaction in public bathrooms is stressful enough as it is without adding the guilty arousal of illicit nudes to the mix.
He takes the innermost stall and latches the door shut, then stares at the toilet.
Does he sit for this, or…?
No. He doesn’t have much experience — any experience, really — with sending dick pics, but he’s pretty sure a photo where he’s clearly sitting on a public toilet would be weird. But he can’t possibly lay down on the floor of a public restroom, either. So he stands and unbuckles his belt just enough to undo his fly and take out his penis. Then he readies his phone camera and assesses the image with dismay.
Seen through the lens, his cock lays limp in his hand, the foreskin still soft and loose, looking for all the world like a chubby, flesh-toned slug emerging from a nest of hair. He can make out his shoes and the bathroom tiles in the background, which makes the shot infinitely more awkward.
Dick pics are hard work, apparently. He’d practically had to hobble to the bathroom to hide his stiffy, but now, camera in one hand and cock in the other, his penis looks laughably soft.
A banner notification slides down the top of his screen.
Dimitri responds, one hand still cradling his softening dick as he types.
Felix wants to see Dimitri hard. Dimitri clings to that thought with the hope of a drowning man.
Dimitri stares at the ellipses for a while, then switches back to his phone app and pumps his dick a few times. It works, a little, in that the motion stimulates his blood flow. But it’s not enough to counteract his nerves. Maybe if he adjusts the viewpoint a little… But no. No amount of tricky camera angles will conceal the fact that Dimitri’s cock is only semi-hard.
That’s one of the problems, though. Dimitri doesn’t really think about erotic things. He understands in the abstract that people have fantasies, things that power their arousal. But arousal is just something that happens to Dimitri in much the way that hunger does. He’s never thought about much beyond the bare minimum required for sating those needs, just as he’s never thought about eating for pleasure. The concept is so far removed from him that he’s simply never considered it.
He casts his gaze around for something, anything. Then his gaze stutters and lands on his phone screen and his messages with Felix.
There’s a little photo of Felix at the top of the chat. He’s smiling in that Felix way, where his mouth is still nearly a hard line but his eyes are a little softer than usual. It’s a good look on Felix, one that tempers the pissiness with something gentle. Felix had smiled like that this morning while he thought Dimitri wasn’t looking, and the rush of catching Felix in a secret moment had brought a smile to his own face.
Dimitri’s cock stirs absurdly in his hand.
He likes Felix, yes, and he’s been in love with Felix for over a decade, but he’s never thought to pair the concept of Felix with his own arousal. Now, though, Dimitri feels like a desert wanderer stumbling upon an oasis for the first time.
He thinks about Felix’s mouth. His lips, plush when they’re not drawn into that charmingly crabby line. How they look so invitingly soft when Felix speaks. The way Felix had parted his lips this morning to flick his tongue at a stray crumb on his upper lip.
He’s thought about Felix’s mouth on his own a thousand times, but now he thinks about Felix’s mouth in different places.
And now Dimitri’s blood surges downwards, the usual pressure heightened with a different, altogether unexpected sensation sparking through his body. He’s barely touched himself — his cock just resting, thick and hard, in his right hand — but already he feels like a dam filled to bursting.
Oh.
So this is what it feels like. The weight of his cock, heavy and hot in his hand, is at once familiar and wholly new. Dimitri pumps it once, then twice, to the thought of Felix’s open lips. The sensation is so good he feels almost delirious.
So this is how sex can feel.
He stills his hand for a moment, breathless, and feels his cock twitch in his hand. Then he looks down at it, long and stiff, the covered head jutting out beyond the circle of his thumb and forefinger. He pulls his foreskin back experimentally, hissing in surprise at the jolt of pure pleasure that the movement draws. A milky bead of precum oozes from the tip of the dusky pink head, and the sight alone, and the knowledge that it was thoughts of Felix that caused it, sends a frisson of renewed arousal through his skin.
Dimitri squeezes his eyes shut and chases that feeling like a dog, thinking desperately of Felix. Felix kneeling on the tiles, those delicious lips parting as he leans forward. The soft pink wetness inside his mouth. His tongue darting out to lap up that dribble of precum with just the tip of his tongue. Felix’s eyelids fluttering in ecstasy as he tastes Dimitri for the first time.
Dimitri’s grip on his phone slackens and the fantasy stutters as Dimitri opens his eyes to fumble at it before it falls. Once it’s safe in his hand once more, he nearly pockets the thing before remembering why he’s even in this situation in the first place.
Felix asked for a picture. Dimitri swipes to the camera, angles his lens, and takes a shot.
In the photo, his dick rests pink and heavy in his grip, the vein under his skin winding across the length of it, all the way to the smooth skin under his head. That milky drop that Dimitri so dearly wants Felix to lick a glimmering spot at the very tip of his cock.
Will Felix like it? What if he’s disappointed? But Felix had said I want to see you hard, and Dimitri trusts him.
He examines the photo one more time. The bathroom tiles and the loose belt and the shoes are still there, but Dimitri feels good about the picture. He’s always sought Felix’s approval, and this situation is no different, only charged with an entirely new element. It excites him, in a new, erotic way, to think about what Felix might say about his cock.
Dimitri sends the picture and rests his head against the wall as he waits for Felix to respond. The hand on his dick moves, almost of its own accord, pulling his foreskin along the shaft in an addictive motion. He gives his cock a hard pump, shuddering as the action smears leaking precum around his sensitive head. The squelching glide of skin eased by precum is shameful, somehow, lewd and animalistic, but the shame feels like ecstasy.
When he draws his hand all the way back to meet the root of his cock, his hips twitch of their own accord, and the pleasure from that movement alone is more electrifying than anything he’s felt before. He pumps his hand faster, thrusting into his grip over and over again, losing himself in the sensation and the base sound of the bottom of his hand slapping against his groin. He’s close, so close, and it’s better than anything he’s felt before—
Then his phone buzzes in his other hand. The shock of it sends one last silky jolt of pleasure through his skin, and Dimitri loses control. He moans as he comes, the sound stuttering in his throat as his hips rock through his orgasm.
When he comes back to himself, there’s a drippy streak on the stall door and his phone is still buzzing. Dimitri takes a deep breath and checks the screen.
Felix is calling him.
Felix is calling him.
Dimitri declines the call with a shaking finger. The action leaves a little streak of cum across the screen.
Dimitri fumbles in his jacket pocket for his earphones. He’s barely secured them when Felix calls again. Dimitri picks up, slipping the phone in his pocket.
“Felix?” Dimitri’s still a little breathless, and he hopes Felix can’t hear it in his voice.
“Good,” Felix says. There’s a strange, thick quality to his voice, like he’s speaking through a throat full of syrup. “You picked up.”
“Felix, what is the meaning of this?” Dimitri whispers, but Felix cuts in.
“You do have a monster cock,” Felix says, and Dimitri can almost taste that dark honey in his voice. That viscous thickness sparks something that makes Dimitri’s cock, still raw and oversensitive, twitch eagerly. He moves a hand to steady the root.
“I—“ Dimitri stumbles, at a loss. He desperately wishes for a shot of post-nut clarity, but what comes out of his mouth can only be described as post-nut stupidity. “Do you like it?”
There’s a long silence on the other side of the line.
Dimitri considers flushing himself down the toilet. Why did he say that? Felix is emotionally skittish at the best of times. He’s never going to speak to Dimitri again.
But astonishingly, instead of cursing and hanging up, Felix laughs once. The sound is short and sharp and breathy. “Yes,” he says, his voice close, too close, piped directly into Dimitri’s ears. It hits him like an icy jolt of lightning.
Something between a moan and a gasp escapes Dimitri’s throat and echoes like thunder in the bathroom.
“What are you—” Dimitri starts, but the door creaks open and someone walks noisily in. There’s a zipping sound.
Felix scoffs in his ear. “What am I what, boar?”
Dimitri grits his teeth. The hand on his cock trembles, but with fear or excitement, he couldn’t say.
“Cat got your tongue?”
The stranger begins using the urinal. Dimitri bites his lip, hard, as Felix huffs.
“Fine. I’ll just have to guess what you were asking me.” Felix pauses, and again his voice turns slower, syrupy. “Hm. You were about to ask what I’m doing.”
He’s right, as always. The way Felix understands him so well fizzes white-hot in Dimitri’s brain, and his blood once again rushes south.
There’s a gentle, wet-sounding smack, and then Felix moans. He’s never heard this sound from Felix before, this low breathy whine, and immediately Dimitri craves more. The oversensitivity in his skin metamorphoses into pleasure as the sound reverberates through Dimitri’s body. Dimitri’s cock twitches once more in his hand. Despite his best efforts to keep quiet, Dimitri gasps.
The sound seems to spur Felix on. “Take a guess, boar,” he says, his tone lower and sweeter than before. That dark honey dripping from his voice spreads like a spoonful of fire through Dimitri’s veins.
But Dimitri can’t answer, not when there’s someone else in the bathroom with him.
“I’ll give you a hint,” Felix says, and then there’s another set of soft noises from Felix’s end of the line. The sound, damningly familiar, vibrates under his skin.
The stranger, finished with his business, leaves the restroom. Dimitri has never been so glad for the male custom of dishygiene. He almost whimpers with relief as the door closes.
“I’m looking at something.”
“My photo,” Dimitri says. The words come slowly, fighting through a tight jaw and a dry mouth.
“Correct. What else am I doing?”
“You’re… touching yourself,” Dimitri whispers. Suddenly his heart is in his throat, thumping loud and fast, his cock throbbing in time with his pulse.
The words seem to loosen something in Felix, who moans again. “Yes.”
“Felix,” Dimitri starts. He doesn’t know what to say. His mouth is dry, so dry.
“What.” Felix says the word like that all the time, an efficient way of cloaking his concern in annoyed impatience. But here in this context it becomes something dripping with eroticism, startling Dimitri’s hand into movement. He squeezes his cock, and that jolt of friction, too, is surprising, old and new at the same time.
“Felix,” Dimitri nearly sobs with pleasure. “What are you doing?”
To me, Dimitri wants to add, but he knows the answer already. He’s known what Felix does to him for years.
“Touching myself,” Felix says, casually quick, but from tone alone Dimitri knows Felix must be blushing. Dimitri’s aching cock pulses at the image of Felix, cherry-pink up to his ears, biting on his lower lip as he jerks himself.
“Felix,” Dimitri says again, and Felix’s name feels so good in his mouth that he wants to keep saying it, keep moaning Felix, Felix, Felix. His lips trace the name silently anyway as the hand stroking his dick quickens. He wonders if Felix feels as good as he does, and opens his mouth before he can lose his nerve. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes,” Felix says. Another squelch, accompanied by the sound of Felix panting. “You look good. You feel good.”
“Oh,” Dimitri says, and the pressure of his grip is nearly too much. He lets go and exhales long, slow, and careful. Now, his cock stands alone, red and throbbing in the air, an obscene testament to Felix’s effect on him. “Oh, Felix.”
“Dimitri—” Felix whines, then hangs up.
What on Earth?
Dimitri’s earphones pipe the FaceTime tone into his ears. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket and picks up.
The majority of his screen goes black: Felix’s camera is off. Dimitri’s face is a red, sweaty mess in the corner of his phone, the arousal evident in his expression. If Felix didn’t know how much he turns Dimitri on already, he definitely knows now.
“Hi,” Felix says, absurdly.
“Hi,” Dimitri parrots. The situation is utterly ludicrous. He’s standing in a bathroom stall with his erection out, on a video call with Felix after ejaculating to the thought of him. He looks visibly wrecked on screen and Felix’s camera is off.
“Hi,” Felix repeats, and the whole situation is just so ridiculous that Dimitri can’t stop the bubble of laughter that escapes his lips. Felix huffs, and Dimitri can practically hear the pout in his voice.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Felix says, impressively petulant for someone who was moaning in his ear a few moments ago. “This is a serious situation.”
“Yes,” Dimitri agrees easily. Even if he weren’t wound so tight, he’s always loved indulging Felix, and now the thought of indulging Felix in a different way sets his skin alight. “What do you need from me?”
“Switch your camera view.” It’s not a request but a command. “I want to see you jerk off.”
At this point Dimitri thinks he’d jump into a vat of molten steel if Felix asked him to. He taps the button to flip the camera view and aims the phone at his cock, then drags his hand leisurely over the length of his shaft, drawing out the sensation for as long as he can. By the time the base of his hand has reached the root, his foreskin is pulled fully back, exposing the thick head of his cock and the messy smear of cum like a coronet at its tip.
Felix’s moan is nearly a whimper.
Dimitri’s cock jumps in response, and Felix whines again.
Emboldened, Dimitri tugs his fist forward, drawing his grip over the shaft until just the tip of his cock peeks out through the ring of thumb and forefinger. Then he twists his wrist slightly, savoring the glide of sensitive skin over the ridge of his cockhead. The action spreads his leftover cum over his head, lubricating the furrow between shaft and head, the movement a slick line of pleasure. He sighs with the feeling.
Felix’s breath hitches as Dimitri begins pumping his hand back and forth. His hips grow bold, pushing back and forth in tense thrusts to fuck into the tight tunnel of his fingers. The resulting video feed is obscenely sexual, something Dimitri could never have dreamed up, but all the more sensual for it. The fact that he’s not the only one feeling it, that Felix is on the other end of the call, watching him pleasure himself and gaining pleasure in the act, only intensifies the thrill.
“Felix,” Dimitri says, his voice fracturing in ecstasy. The sensation is good, so good, warming him through like a crackling fire. He’s never experienced anything like it before and yet he needs something more.
“Felix, let me see you,” Dimitri moans. The hand holding his phone up trembles with need. “Please.”
“Felix,” Dimitri begs, when Felix doesn’t respond. A moment later, Felix’s face appears on the screen.
The sight of him is overwhelming. He’s lying in bed, pink all over, eyes shining and lips parted. The morning sun glimmers on his eyelashes like dewdrops on a spiderweb. But Dimitri’s gaze snags on something else — Felix’s long hair, snaking river-like across the gentle slope of a familiar looking pillow. It’s Dimitri’s pillow, plain cotton weave in a deep blue. Dimitri can make out the shape of the lamp on his nightstand behind Felix’s head.
“Are you in—” Dimitri starts, then catches himself. Felix’s expression grows defiant even as his eyes dart away.
Better not to bring it up and risk it all crashing down, not when Felix is pleasuring himself in Dimitri’s bed, panting into Dimitri’s pillow and creasing Dimitri’s sheets. Only Felix could be so shameless about his actions, wantonly slipping into Dimitri’s bed and daring him to object. He thinks, not for the first time, that Felix has ruined him for anyone else.
The thought of Felix under his covers, inundated in his scent, nearly undoes him. Dimitri’s hand stills on his cock, gripping the base hard, as his hips tremor and jerk.
Felix’s eyes flick back toward the screen, and he whines when he realizes Dimitri’s hand has stilled. “What are you doing?”
Dimitri’s laugh shudders with tension. “It’s too good,” he admits. “I’m so close.”
Felix looks at the camera — directly into the lens, not at the screen — and those eyes, the usual discontent in them tempered by desire, pierce Dimitri to the core. Dimitri’s pelvis rocks of its own will as he locks eyes with Felix.
“Come, then,” Felix demands, and Dimitri shuts his eyes and obeys. The tension bottled under every inch of his skin overflows and his hips shudder forward into his grip. His cock throbs once, then he comes on the upstroke. Felix’s moan is long, drawn out, and Dimitri submerges himself in the velvety dark sound, his cock twitching and his cum leaking in soft spurts as Felix whines in his ears.
When he opens his eyes, Felix’s face is screwed tight in pleasure, his mouth drawn into a taut line. Dimitri watches his free arm work frantically as he touches himself under the covers, and the sight nearly inspires his dick to attempt a third orgasm. But before he can try, Felix’s eyebrows knot and his mouth slackens to make way for Felix’s whine as he comes.
After a long moment filled only with the sound of their breathing, Felix’s eyes flutter open. He’s tender in the haze of orgasm, and something in his expression is loose now, a mellow contentedness that mirrors the fuzzy feeling spreading through Dimitri’s bones. That resonance between them convinces Dimitri to speak.
But first, he flips his camera view back, so Felix isn’t making bedroom eyes at his softening penis.
“Felix,” he starts carefully as he tucks his sensitive dick back into his underwear. “Will you stay there for me?”
Felix’s gaze is uncharacteristically relaxed, but his eyes are lucid. “How long will you be?”
“I’ll come home straight away,” Dimitri says.
“I’ll leave if you take too long.” Felix warns, pushing his nose into the pillow as his lips curve into a smile. His eyes flick back towards the screen. “Okay?”
“I won't,” Dimitri promises. “Just wait right there for me.”
“Okay,” Felix says again. “I’ll wait.”
“Okay,” Dimitri says, laughing, and Felix laughs too.
“Hang up already,” Felix grumbles softly.
“Okay.” Dimitri doesn’t move.
“I’m going to set a timer,” Felix threatens, but it’s toothless.
“Okay,” Dimitri says, his cheeks stretching in a grin. Felix’s eyes crease in response.
“Okay,” Felix says.
The screen flashes dark for a moment as Felix hangs up, and then the screen once again displays the bouncing bubbles on his lockscreen.
Okay, Dimitri thinks to himself, smiling, and he carries that smile all the way home.