7. Chris
Chris
December, Cardiff
By some miraculous act of god, his private show with Quick was scheduled for just hours before Nick was due to arrive back for his Christmas break.
He’d flown into Heathrow because the flight had been cheaper, then had the audacity to grouse about nobody making the four-hour drive to pick him up.
Fortunately, Nick was stuck on a slow train, which meant Chris should have just enough time to clean up after what he was sure was going to be the greatest forty-five minutes of his entire life.
Quick was busy; he’d rescheduled twice, and it had been difficult to find a time that worked, despite Chris’s days consisting of virtually nothing but stewing in guilt, contemplating his bleak future, video games, the odd run, and staring at his favourite photo, or rewatching old streams on Quick’s channel.
Chris furrowed his brow as he thought about Isaiah Owens and how obnoxiously fucking accurate the little quip in his last email had been.
He was setting all of that aside now though, because the moment had finally arrived.
A private show. Just him and the man he’d become completely enchanted by.
Deep down, Chris felt a little bit weird about the whole private show thing.
Not weird enough about it to cancel or anything, because fuck, he was already hard just thinking about getting access to Quick one-on-one.
He wasn’t sure what it was about him. It wasn’t like Chris had never watched porn before, but he’d never fixated on someone like this.
It wasn’t even just because Quick was insanely hot, which he was.
His wispy pastel hair and soft pink lips were enticing enough, and his long, lean limbs, perfect pink nipples, and delicately tattooed torso were the stuff of dreams. But he was funny.
So damn funny. And he had this adorable vulnerability about him at the start of every stream that just made Chris want to pull him into his arms. He just didn’t want to end up like one of those guys who obsessed over some online persona at the expense of everything else in his life.
Right now though, it didn’t feel like there was much else in his life to worry about losing.
Chris opened his laptop and navigated to the familiar site.
He was about to click into the private room when he had a last-minute panic about hiding his identity and grabbed around the bottom of his closet for something to cover his face, landing on a mask he’d used for Halloween a few years ago.
At least it vaguely fit with his screen name, despite being a cheap knock-off with yellow lightning bolts down the side that Sam had ribbed him for endlessly at the time.
It was two minutes past; it was going to have to do.
“Thought you were going to leave me hanging,” a flirty voice said through the speakers as Chris finally entered the room.
The second he switched his camera on though, a decidedly unrehearsed guffaw echoed in the room.
“I’m sorry, I was half expecting you to be, like, sixty.
I was not prepared to meet an honest-to-god superhero this evening. ”
“It was a last-minute thing,” Chris mumbled.
“You’re fine. You know you don’t have to be on camera if you don’t want to, right?” came the slightly hesitant reply.
“That would feel weird though, I think.”
Quick nodded. “I’m guessing this isn’t a regular thing for you, then?”
“No. I’ve…I’ve never done this before.” Chris shifted.
“Well, that makes us both virgins.” The flirty grin was back now. “We’ll get to learn together.”
Chris let out a breath and tried to relax. Quick was wearing the fleece hoodie he’d sent him the month before; it rode up on his thighs, showing a loose pair of boxers and hinting at something special underneath. Heat pooled in his belly.
Despite his nerves and arousal, it was surprisingly easy to let himself fall into a friendly chat with Quick after that.
Not about anything serious; the weather really, at first, then Quick mentioned he had a philosophy lecture the next morning, and Chris was completely enamoured as he listened to him rant about what he described as his professor’s total hard-on for Kant, and how they were meant to be studying a range of philosophy topics but he always brought it back to morality.
“Did you go to uni?” Quick asked.
“Well, yes. But—” Chris took a breath. “—I didn’t finish. I’ve been thinking of going back…but I’m not sure.”
“You should. I mean, if you want to. Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m overstepping. We don’t have to talk about it.”
Chris winced. “I’d…I’d rather not, sorry. Just, my parents have been pressuring me and, well, you know.”
The tone shifted, Chris felt it.
“I don’t really, not anymore,” Quick replied softly.
Chris swallows. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He’d made things awkward.
Quick smiled. “Oh, wow! Look at the time. You did not pay to have me natter at you about my course load.”
“No, it was nice.”
“Nice?” Quick sounded sceptical.
“I like listening to you talk.”
“I like listening to you talk, too. You have a nice voice.” Quick blushed, the pink on his cheeks matching his hair.
Chris laughed. “Accent kink?”
“Among other things” came the teasing reply.
“So, tell me what you were daydreaming about doing with me when you booked this call, Flash.”
Chris faltered for a moment. What had he wanted? He thought back to the stream he’d been watching when he’d finally built up the courage to reach out. About seeing Quick in one of the gifts he sent. His arousal must have been obvious because quick was smirking back at him.
“I bet I can guess.”
“You think?”
“I think you want to see me in one of those pretty, pretty gifts you sent me. Is that right?”
Chris nodded, barely able to speak. “You’re already wearing one of my gifts.” He nodded at the fleece Quick was wrapped in.
“You have no idea how often I wear this.” Quick laughed.
That made Chris grin.
“I thought I’d show you some of the other things I’ve loved that you sent. But I want something first.”
“Anything.”
Quick laughed again. The sound was deep and sent a wave of electricity through Chris’s body. “Dangerous thing to say, love.”
“I meant it, though,” Chris said, and found that honestly, he did.
“Good. We can make a deal, then. You take something off, and I’ll take something off. Quid pro quo.”
“You ask all your customers to get naked?” Chris joked.
“Only the hot ones.” Quick shrugged. “And it’s my first private show; I want to enjoy the view too. It’s not every day I get a sexy gay man willing to strip for me, you know.”
Chris laughed. “Somehow I doubt that.” He paused, unsure if he should say anything, but... “And I’m pan, for, like, reference or whatever.”
“Mmm. Sexy and epistemically rigorous—just my type.”
Something about having Quick confirm he found him attractive in some way, about the honest, straightforward way he’d stated it, like it was a fact Chris should have been well aware of was affirming.
He knew he was still fit, but the changes in the mirror since he’d stopped training had been at the back of his mind all the same.
He was fully hard now and desperate to see what Quick was hiding under his clothes. Without any preamble, he pulled off his top, awkwardly dislodging the stupid mask from his face, then scrambling to pull it back on.
Quick hummed appreciatively when he came back into view and wasted no time pulling the pink fleece over his head.
The expanse of pale flesh and smattering of brown freckles that created a looping trail from his shoulders down to his pink nipples made Chris’s cock twitch.
He gripped the base of it hard, worried this would all end far too soon.
“Very nice, Flash.”
“You too.” Chris groaned as Quick lazily pinched his own nipples. “Always so fucking pretty.”
“You don’t have to show me if it makes you uncomfortable, but I’m going to take my shorts off now and show you just how much I like these pretty panties you sent me. I’d like you to take yours off too.”
Chris nodded, throat too dry to respond, but he complied, hypnotised by the screen as Quick revealed a pair of green satin and lace panties that he remembered buying a couple weeks ago. They looked better than he could have imagined with Quick’s hard cock stretching the material to its limit.
“Fuck.”
“You like them?”
Licking his lips, Chris nodded.
“Me too. You have excellent taste.”
“I’m not going to last. Fuck, you’re so…so…”
“Do you want me to watch, baby? Want to show me how hard you are for me?”
Chris shifted the screen so he was completely exposed. He tried to hold back, but as soon as Quick started talking again, he was near the edge.
“Touch yourself for me, baby, and tell me what you’re thinking about.”
“You. Fuck,” Chris gasped. “Touching you, being inside you.”
“Is that what you want? You want to fuck me?” Quick asked. Chris could barely nod as he kept his eyes fixed unblinking on the screen. “I want you to imagine it, like you’re here with me. Touch yourself and watch me. We’re gonna come together, okay?”
“Yesss,” Chris hissed as he stroked himself.
Quick lifted a leg, giving Chris a perfect view of his tight hole as he slid a finger in.
It was too much. This was mortifyingly fast, but his whole body was vibrating with the force of his desire for the man on the screen.
His balls tightened. He watched Quick’s hand pump his own shaft rhythmically as he fingered himself, eyes partially obscured by his usual mask but fixed on Chris through the screen.
He imagined himself there beside him, his hand, his fingers, his cock.
He’d do it just how Quick liked it, with a little flick of the wrist at the top of each stroke, fast but smooth.
“Now, baby. I’m so close. Come for me now.”