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It was supposed to be a normal panel. A panel that wouldn’t completely spin his world off its axis. But, it certainly didn’t work out like that. And–Niall would say he’s comfortable in his sexuality. Sure, he was raised with all girls in the house, but that didn’t really affect him much. In fact, he’s gotten many compliments from girlfriends and hookups about how kind and considerate he is to women. But to be honest, Niall simply acknowledging that periods exist gives him a weird amount of points. So, anyway, Niall is straight. Or, he thinks, at least. It’s hard to tell anymore when his fingers twitch to the waistband of his underwear, thinking about his very male friend kissing him.
It was hardly a kiss, even. Niall had jokingly grabbed the other end of the Fruit Roll-Up, in reference to the Lady and the Tramp, and put it in his mouth, chewing their mouths closer to each other. It was at that moment that Niall realized that this was going to turn into some sort of gay chicken. Niall didn’t want to be the one to back away, but he should’ve known that Stamper wasn’t the type of guy to back away either. Stamper doesn’t fuck around. Ever. When you go hard, Stamper goes harder. When their mouths were basically touching, there was a struggle for the last bit of the candy. Stamper tried to nip at the candy, lips grazing against Niall’s. Niall ended up getting the last of the candy successfully in his mouth. The crowd at this point had been cheering, but Niall couldn’t hear it over the rush in his ears. Niall hoped his expression of surprise wasn’t too obvious. Spurred on by the crowd Niall assumes, Stamper had taken that moment to pull Niall’s head back, shoving his tongue into his mouth a bit, smacking his lips against his, Niall gasping. Niall had feigned nonchalance right after, eyeing the phones pulled out from the crowd. He was glad that his head was pulled back far enough that they hadn’t heard his humiliating sound. Stamper certainly did, but he didn’t mention it. Not in the moment or even after.
Niall had sat back up, chewing the rest of the candy and licking his fingers with satisfaction at the win. Head fuzzy with the adrenalin, Niall had then leaned down to give a faux blowjob for the other man, and the crowd cheered. Zach made some sort of offhanded statement about it, but Niall didn’t hear it.
And now, a couple days later back at home, Niall is suffering with the consequences. The guys had gone out to dinner a bit ago, but he had declined. He has been way too antsy after the panel, and he hasn’t gotten much alone time since then. So, no dinner for him but at least he finally gets to expel himself of these fucked up thoughts and ideas. If he jerks off now, he can never think about it ever again, be done with it. For the record, he’s totally not homophobic, it’s cool if that’s your style, it’s just definitely not his. Any straight man would be in his position if someone kissed them like that, okay? It’s just human nature, whatever.
He takes in a deep breath, and pulls his boxers down to reveal himself, throwing it to the side, landing somewhere in his room. He grabs for his lotion on his bedside table, squirting it on his hands with expertise. He wraps his hand around himself and sighs, “Fuck. Amazing,” he whispers to the silent room. He pulls back his foreskin, rubbing at the tip, and he shudders.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at his door. A knock at his door? What the fuck? Niall grabs at his comforter that had been pushed to the side of his bed and yanks it over himself. Niall knows that half of the guys have no respect for privacy, so he’s grown used to having to do shit like this. Next second, in walks Stamper. He has a blank expression on his face, not yet realizing what he’s walked in on.
“Dude. What do you want? Aren’t you supposed to be out with the other guys?” Niall can’t help the tone of irritation from leaking into his voice.
Stamper puts his hands up in surrender, “Hey, man. I didn’t wanna go jus’ like you. I just came up to ask if you wanted me to cook you something ‘cause I’m making something for myself.”
Niall sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face, “Uh. Sure- or. No. Well–just make me some and I can get leftovers later.”
“Not even a ‘thank you’?”
“Thank you, Stamper.” Niall says sarcastically.
Stamper rolls his eyes and starts to walk away, muttering about Niall’s attitude, only to pause in the middle of the room, pausing his words. Stamper crouches, picking up the boxers that Niall had carelessly tossed aside, a damp spot at the crotch. Stamper swivels around, smirk now evident. Niall feels like a bucket of cold water has been tossed all over his body. He doesn’t have any idea what Stamper was thinking, but it’s probably not anything good.
“Am I, uh, interrupting you?”
“N-no.” Niall internally curses himself for his pathetic stuttering.
“Ya sure? ‘Cause to me it seems like you were jerking off or something.” Stamper stalks closer, knees almost touching the edge of the bed. He leers forward, licking his lips. Stamper eyes the Irishman with something that Niall can’t quite place. “So, tell me, Niall. Were you?”
Niall's eyes bounce around the room, looking for an exit. It wasn’t too long ago that Niall was normal. It was all until Stamper had shoved his tongue in his mouth that everything had shifted. Niall wipes his palms against the comforter that covers himself from the man standing above him. Niall looks him in the eye, trying to face it head on instead of cowering like he tends to do, “Yeah, so what? I’m in the comfort of my own bedroom, aren’t I?”
It’s far too quick that Stamper speaks, not even a full second after Niall, “What were you jerking off to?”
“What the fuck!?” Niall wrinkles his nose, “I’m not telling you that, you perv!” Niall’s heart beats a bit faster than it should.
Stamper drops the underwear that Niall almost forgot he had and holds his hands up in defense, “I mean, hey. You don’t have to tell me nothing. But, you can if you want, I won’t judge.”
Niall looks away and lets out a puff of air. No way he’s telling Stamper. That would be crossing a line. The ‘gay line’ as Niall has dubbed it in his head. It’s fine for him to just jerk off about it, but to actually do something with a friend? Hell. No.
“Really? Really ain’t gonna tell me?” There’s a pause. “Here, how about I tell you about the last time I jerked off. I think you might relate.” Niall can feel Stamper’s eyes against the side of his face but he still refuses to meet his gaze. “Okay, so, do you remember that panel we did?”
“Yeah…?” Niall shifts in his spot on the bed, blanket still firmly over his lap.
“Yeah, so. We had a moment if you remember. And if I’m honest, it was kind of hot. I held off thinking about it through the day, but when I got to my hotel, I had some fun. And by God do I feel bad for the people on the other side of the wall.” Niall audibly swallows his spit, “I had thankfully been prepared. So, I had fucked myself long and hard on a dildo thinking about that kiss we shared. And I still think about it. And if I had to guess, you were thinking about that too, weren’t you?”
The blush across Niall’s face exposes him. There’s a bit of sweat dripping down the edge of his forehead, he brings a hand up to wipe it. He eventually gives in and meets Stamper’s eyes. His eyes are piercing, dark eyes swirling with something Niall can identify as intent. Or maybe even horniness. Niall’s throat is dry as he speaks, “Really? Did you really, uh–do that?”
“Sure did. Now, are we gonna pretend like we’re not both into this or are you gonna hide behind your blanket forever?” Niall watches as Stamper’s eyes glance toward his lips, Niall being reminded of Stamper’s lips. His eyes look at the soft plushiness of Stamper’s lips, licking his lips as he remembers the feeling of them. Their lips had hardly made contact, but Niall is inpatient to maybe have a proper kiss this time.
Niall pushes the blanket off his lap, now exposed. He doesn’t have time to dwell on that as Stamper grips his chin again and their lips meet again. The kiss isn’t romantic by any means. Niall is used to kissing women, so this is quite a change of pace. It’s a bruising pressure, a fight for dominance and it seems like Niall is losing. But either way, it’s fucking hot as fuck. The feeling of his slightly chapped lips combined with the stubble scraping at Niall’s skin is almost too much. Stamper lowers himself to sit over Niall on the bed, legs bracketing Niall. Niall’s still naked from the waist down, but the difference in power is kind of doing it for him, so he doesn’t say anything about Stamper’s clothed state. Although, he does use this moment as an opportunity to push his hands up Stamper’s shirt, feeling him up. Stamper is a perfect mix of being fit and being a little chubby. He has a little bit of a belly, but Niall finds himself liking it a lot. Niall reaches his hand up, and muscle memory has him flicking at Stamper’s nipple. For a moment Niall is worried that he’s somehow messed up–do men like their nipples played with like that?–but Stamper groans into the kiss and Niall sighs in relief.
Niall brings his other hand to the opposite side and tweaks his nipple again, reveling in the sounds that come out of Stamper. The power is just so fucking addicting. And he never thought he’d be able to have power over Stamper. Most of the time here Niall feels weird and out of place. It seems like every conversation he has with Stamper ends up with Stamper telling him to lighten up and stop being a baby. Who’s the baby now? Niall bites at Stamper’s bottom lip, a sound similar to a whine is heard. Niall didn’t realize that a guy could sound so girly, but it’s making Niall’s dick somehow fill out even more than it was.
Niall’s power trip ends when Stamper shoves his tongue in his mouth and his hand grips his hard dick in one fell swoop. A sound is punched out of Niall. Realistically Niall would probably call it a whimper, but instead he mentally calls it a manly groan. Niall goes almost pliant, letting Stamper’s tongue search the parts of his mouth all the while his fist goes up and down his length. Niall has hooked up with a lot of women after his most recent breakup, but this might be his best hookup so far. Niall doesn’t know what that says about him.
Stamper leans back from Niall’s lips, and Niall subconsciously leans up to reconnect their lips before Stamper pushes him back down against the pillow with a hand against his chest. Niall whimpers. “Oh, stop complaining, you baby.” Stamper leans down and nibbles and kisses down the column of his neck. Niall just sighs and leans his head back and lets it happen. He sucks a large bruise right at the side of his neck. And if Niall was any more coherent, he might tell him to not do it in a spot so obvious, but he isn’t, so he doesn’t.
The hand on Niall’s dick is still stroking him to the beat of his own heartbeat in his ears. His legs spasm as he subconsciously juts his hips up to get more stimulation. Stamper pushes him back down again, this time by his hips. Niall whines petulantly, brain already having been turned to goo.
“Quit it. You’ll take what I give.” Niall’s whole body shivers. The dominant tone in Stamper’s voice is ever-present.
Stamper soothes the small bruises littering his neck by licking over them one last time before he makes his way down. He continues to stroke Niall while he turns his head to kiss at the inside of Niall’s thigh. No one, not even his girlfriends, have kissed down there, and it’s a life-changing experience. He didn’t realize how sensitive he was. It’s made worse when he starts his path of kisses and bites similarly to how he did on his neck moments prior.
Niall covers his flushed face with his elbow, “God, Stamper!”
Stamper’s voice is muffled in his thighs as he speaks–and God if that image isn’t hot as fuck, “Yes, Niall?”
“I’m so fucking close! Please!”
“Hm.” Niall is worried for a moment that he isn’t going to help him out from his lack of words, but after licking up his thigh, Stamper takes Niall’s leaking penis directly in his mouth. He licks the side of it with his tongue, going up and down. The method seems practiced. Niall has had many blowjobs, from novices to basically experts, and Niall would place Stamper somewhere on the expert side surprisingly. Niall has decided to not really question much of the Sleepy Cabin’s members’ sexual escapades lest he become traumatized, but now the thought plants a seed in his brain and he can only expect it to flourish in the upcoming weeks. How many times has Stamper blown guys?
Niall moans, hands going to grasp at Stamper, and he grunts when he remembers that Stamper has a distinct lack of hair to latch on when he gets close. Instead, his fingers dig into the shirt covering his shoulders, scrunching the fabric tightly. Stamper’s eyes are closed, focused on his task, and watching him go up and down only makes the situation better. Niall groans and finally lets go, cum painting the back of Stamper’s throat. Stamper somehow doesn’t seem to mind eating (or drinking?) all of his cum, so Niall lays there and lets it happen. After it’s done, he goes limp. He closes his eyes as his chest moves up and down rapidly to catch up with his breathing.
Stamper pops off his dick and Niall can feel his gaze. Niall breathes in deep and peaks his eyes open to watch the older man from the bottom of his eyes. “Uh, hey?”
Stamper looks shocked for a moment, almost like he forgot, Niall was even there, “Hey.”
Stamper sits up on his haunches at the end of the bed, looking away awkwardly. Niall’s eyes instantly shoot down toward the evident boner in the gym shorts he’s wearing. Niall doesn’t know when he noticed boners so eagerly. Or maybe it’s just because it’s Stamper’s boner.
“You, uh… you need help?”
“Oh, sure.” Stamper clears his throat.
“Okay, what should I do? Sorry, I don’t–would it be weird to say ‘I’m new at this’?”
Stamper chuckles, “No, that’s fair. We could fuck or something? I mean, if you’re up to it.”
Niall gulps and looks at his lap, dick still soft. “I mean, I would, but I don’t know if Niall Jr. is ready for that.”
Stamper snorts, “Did you just call your dick ‘Niall Jr.’? Never do that again.” Niall halfheartedly laughs before Stamper speaks again, “But. If it’s okay with you, I could like, fuck your thighs? Or
you could just give me a handjob, either is fine, but yeah.”
Stamper has fucked girls’ thighs before, and it’s always been super hot. But to be on the receiving end? The feat is intimidating but he knows it would be good for both parties. Niall just hopes he can stave off his cock from getting hard again. Niall nods, “No yeah, you can… fuck my thighs if you want. That could be good.” Niall whispers ‘fuck’, scandalize
“Okay, cool. Where’s your lube?”
Niall reaches over and grabs his lotion and passes it to Stamper. Stamper raises his eyebrow, “You seriously don’t have lube? What are you, a middle schooler?”
“For your sake you better hope I’m not a middle schooler.”
Stamper rolls his eyes yet pulls his shorts and boxers down below mid-thigh. He pumps the lotion on his hand and rubs it all along Niall’s inner thighs. Niall twitches at the contact. The contact is oddly sensual. Niall suddenly remembers the bruises littering down his inner thighs and briefly wonders if it might hurt a bit. For some reason that doesn’t put him off much.
Stamper draws himself up the bed again, angling himself above Niall once more. He looks Niall in the eye, “Ready?”
Niall nervously chuckles, “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Niall pushes his legs together.
Stamper grabs his dick with his hand and slowly feeds it in-between the two plush thighs. The feeling must be heavenly the way Stamper sighs and his eyes flutter shut. For Niall, though, the feeling is weird. Not bad-weird, but weird. It feels like someone sticking their dick in-between your thighs, he guesses. With the lube, he can hardly feel the dick against his bruises, but there’s a faint ache that’s present that makes Niall groan.
Stamper keeps his eyes closed as he pushes himself in and out for a bit. He opens them again, eyes trained on where his dick meets Niall’s thighs. He seems to be in some sort of trance when he speaks, “You’ve got nice thighs, Niall. They’re, uh.” Stamper licks his lips, “Soft.”
Niall squeaks, “Really? Aren’t girls’ thighs better?”
“I mean, yeah, they can be. But, I don’t know. It’s nice.” Stamper shakes his head as if remembering his own persona, “Just accept the damn compliment, Niall.”
Niall just huffs in reply and lets the feeling of one of his closest friend fucking his thighs wash over him. He somehow has held off on getting a boner so far, and with the sporadic movements of his friend, Niall thinks he might’ve somehow avoided it entirely. Stamper leans down and breathes in Niall’s neck. He doesn’t kiss at it, or lick it, he simply stays there like it’s a safe space. The breath tickles at Niall’s neck, so he squirms slightly, but Stamper doesn’t move. He fucks in and out like a rabbit, moans and whines floating from his mouth.
Finally, after probably too-short of an amount of time to come, cum spurts from Stamper’s dick all across Niall’s thighs. The warmness of it fills Niall’s brain with a nice buzz of static. Niall looks down at his thighs that are pushed together, and he instantly notes how girlish he would look if it weren’t for the semi-flaccid penis laying against his thigh. Maybe that’s why Stamper wanted to fuck.
After a moment of holding himself up, Stamper all but collapses against Niall. The haphazardly pushed down shorts that Stamper adorned no doubt lands in the spot of cum on Niall’s legs, but Stamper doesn’t seem to care as he wraps his arms around Niall. Stamper breathes in, trying to catch his breath, his head once again finding solace in the crook of Niall’s neck. Niall hesitantly wraps his arms around Stamper’s back, rubbing up and down.
Niall doesn’t really know how it works with two guys who happen to be buds, but he comforts Stamper anyway. Niall is a firm believer in aftercare for everyone, even if it is just a quick fuck. And admittedly, Niall needed this too. It took a lot out of him.
They lay there, cuddling, for as long as Niall can stand before the cum on his thighs start to dry. He hates cleaning dried up cum, so he gently rolls over the set the tired Stamper to the side. Stamper groans and just lays there. Niall grabs tissues from his bedside table and cleans his legs off with some scrubbing and tosses the tissue in his trashcan. He walks over to his dresser and grabs new boxers for himself, and after looking at the mess at the front of Stamper’s, he grabs a pair for Stamper, too. He yanks Stamper’s clothes off his legs and tosses them toward his own hamper and hands Stamper the new pair of boxers.
“Here, you can wear these so you don’t have to go back to your room naked.”
Stamper looks up at him and suddenly looks a bit more aware. He grabs the underwear and pulls them up his legs, “Thanks, man.” He scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Stamper stands up on wobbly steps and looks at Niall, “Pleasure doing business with you, or whatever.”
Niall suddenly feels awkwardly, “Yeah. Anytime.”
Stamper raises his eyebrow and Niall then realizes what he said. He’s about to over-explain and backtrack when Stamper just shrugs and leaves his room. Niall sighs and sits back down on his bed. He stares at the ceiling, calculating. Niall honestly doesn’t know what any of this means about himself, but either way, Niall thinks this will be a part of his ‘spank bank’ forever.
—
Later, when the guys come back home, Niall heads downstairs to hang out with them (and he secretly hopes they brought some leftovers for him to steal). Cory, Zach, and Mick stand with to-go boxes in hand as they make their way toward the fridge.
“Got any for me?”
Mick glances over, “Oh, yeah. We got some extra breadsticks if you want some.”
“Oh, hell yeah, I do! Thanks!” Niall keenly grabs the box from Mick’s hands and shoves just about half a breadstick in his mouth. After they all put their leftovers up, they make their way toward the living room. Stamper must’ve heard them arrive as well, because he now sits in a chair looking at his phone. Niall glides across the living room and, with a full mouth, reaches another breadstick out toward him and says “Want one?”
Stamper looks up from his phone and nods, “Sure.” He grabs the breadstick and takes a small nibble, a great difference between his and Niall’s bites.
Stamper looks back down at his phone.
Suddenly, Zach speaks, “Woah, dude. Did you get fucking mauled by a bear?”
Niall doesn’t realize he’s talking to him until he invades his space and pokes at his neck, barely missing one of the several small bruises covering his neck. Niall swats his hand away and frowns, “Hey! Don’t poke me. But yeah, I hooked up with someone while you were gone, so what?”
“Damn, she must’ve been freaky as hell.” Cory chimes in.
Mick narrows his eyes, “Wait, is that why you didn’t come to dinner? To fuck some Tinder girl?”
Niall shrugs, eyes briefly meeting Stamper’s before looking away again, “Something like that, yeah.”