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put my hands on you

Chapter 9

Summary:

Ray almost chokes on his water. He coughs and raps his knuckles against his chest a few times until he can breathe again. “Jesus, Boston, not everything is about sex!”

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“So you’re friends now?”

They’re taking a break–well, Boston is. Ray has lifted his barbells maybe ten times in total and spent the rest of the time ogling men and browsing his phone.

Still, he makes a show of dabbing his forehead with his towel. “Who is ‘you’?”

Boston chugs down half of his water bottle and wipes the sweat dotting his Cupid’s bow before replying, “You and the stripper. Saw you two sitting together in class. Very cozy.”

“His name is Sand,” Ray piques back. He bends down to pick up his own water bottle so that he has an excuse to ignore Boston’s teasing grin. If he pops his ass out a bit more than necessary, no one can blame him. Everyone comes to this gym for one reason, after all.

“So have you fucked?”

Ray almost chokes on his water. He coughs and raps his knuckles against his chest a few times until he can breathe again. “Jesus, Boston, not everything is about sex!”

Boston sends him an unimpressed look, seemingly uncaring that he almost murdered one of his best friends with his crassness. “Have you met yourself?”

“Slander!” Ray cries in outrage, and Boston rolls his eyes.

“As if you haven’t been fantasizing about those two ripped guys by the mirror spitroasting you since we got here.”

Boston is only partially right–Ray suspects he’s projecting, because hunks are Boston’s type; whereas the actual object of Ray’s attention is the lanky guy quietly doing push-ups next to the hunks. He’s wearing a loose sleeveless top with the arm holes cut deep enough that Ray can see the lines of his ribs, the sweat dripping from his armpits down his tense arms, and he keeps stopping from time to time to push his longish damp bangs away from his eyes.

Ray looks away to wag his index finger under Boston’s nose obnoxiously, “Enough with the baseless accusations, or you will be hearing from my lawyer!”

Boston laughs as he slaps Ray’s hand away. “You want me to help you with pecs or not?”

“Yes!” Ray joins his palms in a praying gesture, “Please share your wisdom, big titty daddy.”

Ray only comes to the gym to look at men and to work on his pecs and ass–he’s pretty proud of his assets, and the looks on men’s faces when he takes his shirt off during sex is what makes it worth it.

They finish their routines and Ray decides to shower at home when he sees Boston resolutely marching towards the locker room, the two guys from before staggering behind.

That is not a show Ray wants front rows to; plus his shower at home has ten spray settings and perfect temperature regulation, so it’s an easy choice.

He takes a quick selfie squeezing his arms inwards to accentuate the fruit–or fruits, plural–of his efforts, adds a text to the effect of who’s gonna hold them for me and shares it in his Instagram stories; then he goes to shower.

He goes through all of the steps of his skincare routine and only then does he check his phone again–and he almost, almost drops it, because Sand liked his story. Ray locks the screen, takes a deep breath, unlocks it to have another look; but the like is gone. Uh.

Sand did watch his story though, the evidence is still there in the tiny eye icon. Sand always watches his stories, ever since that time Ray was stalking Top and found Sand’s account in his following. His handle is a weird combination of letters and numbers, so it took Ray a moment to confirm it was him. There were also a few photos of the two of them among Top’s old posts, but Sand most likely untagged himself. Instead of throwing a tantrum about it–Ray is an adult, thank you very much–he saved all the pictures, cut Top off them and proceeded to hit Follow. Sand followed him back within a few hours.

Sand, unlike Ray, isn’t a chronic oversharer, and when he does post it’s mostly songs or cryptic blurry pics of his surroundings or the lyrics he’s working on. Sand interacting with Ray’s posts, on the other hand–that’s a first.

He taps on Sand’s name, then on Message, and he starts typing before he has time to have second thoughts.

u didnt have to unlike lol
coward

Sand was last active a few minutes ago. It doesn’t take long for the three dots to appear.

My finger slipped

Ray snorts to himself. He plops down on the bed belly first, still in his bathrobe.

mhhhh
more like post nut clarity

The three dots appear and disappear for a while, then Sand sends a pic. Of his middle finger. Ray squints–it’s very dark and pixelated, it doesn’t do justice to Sand’s pretty pretty fingers. Sand needs a new phone, one with a better camera.

u should come over
id give u something better than ur hand

There’s another pause on Sand’s side. Ray scrolls through the rest of his notifications in the meantime, a cascade of hearts and more suggestive emojis and a few messages from this guy who’s been hitting on him hard for a while, always writing strings of low-key oily comments to Ray’s posts that make him cringe more than anything.

Sand finally replies.

Like what?

Ray tongues at the inside of his cheek, considering his options. He’s been horny on and off since earlier at the gym, and texting Sand is already doing something to him. A muted tingle down his navel, and it’s not unpleasant. Things have been surprisingly peaceful between them, save for a few heated gazes they’ve exchanged in the corridors–Sand even groped his ass once when Ray brushed past him, admittedly too close to Sand’s body than necessary. When Ray turned back to look at him, the corner of Sand’s mouth was quirked up in the most stupidly hot infuriating half-smile, and Ray didn’t drag him to the closest empty classroom to wipe it off his face only because Mew was waiting for him in the cafeteria.

uve tried my mouth and my hands
can u tell whats next?
altho now that i think abt it u liked my tits pic…
are u a boob man ai’sand? :0

This time Sand’s reply comes impressively fast:

I told you I didn’t like it on purpose
You’re delusional

Ray smiles. So easy, Sand is practically telling on himself.

so boobs it is
interesting
was it bc uve never seen me naked?

It’s a pity, Ray thinks. He’s seen Sand naked, although never fully–always in bits and pieces that he’s had to put together himself. And what a picture it is. Conversely, Ray has always been sadly clothed for their encounters so far. Ray chooses to look at the bright side: even though Sand hasn’t seen Ray’s body yet, he still lusts after him. The fact that Sand is still being difficult about it, even though they’ve been with their hands in each other’s pants more than once over the past few weeks, is an added bonus. Ray doesn’t really mind the chase because he knows by now that Sand can’t resist him. He’s all bark and no bite.

And even if he did bite, Ray would wear it proudly on his neck–he’s not a prude, unlike someone else.

if only u stopped playing hard to get…

Sand writes for a long time, but in the end he doesn’t send anything. Fine, Ray thinks. Luckily for both of them, he’s very skilled at typing one-handed.

He slides one hand underneath his bathrobe, cupping his tit and pressing his thumb on his nipple, letting his nail catch against the sensitive skin.

come over
wouldnt it be nice to have sex on a bed for once?
mine is veryyy soft
lotsa room to try diff positions
ill send u the address if u ask nicely ;)

He rolls his nipple between his index finger and thumb until it hardens, then he moves to his other tit. He’s too lazy to get the lube from his drawer, but the bottle of baby oil he used to moisturize is still on the bed, so he goes for it. He runs his wet hand down his body until he reaches his dick, circling his fingers around it. He gives himself a few pumps, sighing at the easy, familiar pleasure.

id get myself ready for you
all wet and loose
but not too much
rembeer how tight i was when u fingered me?

He lets go of his dick altogether and he reaches back, spreading the oil between his asscheeks. The first finger goes in smoothly to the knuckle; he gives it to himself nice and slow, in and out, then in a little deeper.

then ud just have to slide in
and fuck me like u mean it
u could be a lil rough
i like it
ure so m ean to me
i bet ud keep me on ur dick for hours
make me beg for jt

Ray has two fingers in now. He tries to replicate what Sand did last time, although his own fingers are shorter and his skin is softer, unmarred from any sort of labor. He lifts his ass to get a better angle and oh–that’s it.

fuck sand id be so good for u
u know i would be
could milk ur cock til the last drop
would u cum in me?
or on me agains
mayb on my tits

Ray forgets about his phone momentarily in favor of canting his hips down to meet his fingers, despite the tremble in his legs every time he rubs against his prostate. Sand would never be so nice to him, he’s sure, but it’s fine–it feels so good anyway, and he can still pretend it’s Sand’s hand inside him, that Sand is pushing him down on the mattress, his whole weight pressed against Ray as he takes him hard and deep from behind. He could ruck up the hem of Ray’s robe, push two fingers in him at once to check the stretch, and then go in. Or not, maybe he’d rub his hard cock along Ray’s rim until Ray is a babbling, pleading mess, and only then give it to him. Mhh.

or maybe u dont like it when its too wet an open
id take it dry
if its u

Ray pours more lotion down his chest, lets it trickle down and catches some of it with his palm to spread it on his dick–he’s so hard it really doesn’t take long to bring himself off. He shudders through his climax, lying on his side with his eyes closed and his mouth open and panting, waiting for his breath to resume its normal speed, clinging to the feeling of being sated.

That was… a very good one. A little more one-sided that Ray was hoping for, but good nonetheless.

lemme kno if u came at least
asshole

A minute passes, then Sand sends a disappearing pic. Ray’s breath catches as he taps it open–he didn’t think Sand would send…

It’s a photo of Sand’s hand with his palm up. The quality is terrible but the white coating Sand’s hand is unmistakable–as is the swoop of arousal in Ray’s belly at the sight. Holy shit, Ray thinks; but also, such a waste.

He rolls onto his back and snaps a photo of his torso, from the base of his neck to his bellybutton, showing off his swollen nipples, the sheen of the oil glistening in the dips of his flesh, and the cum streaking across his stomach.

Sand screenshots it.

Notes:

where did the plot go... i swear it was here until a minute ago D:
i hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading <3 see you next week!!