Work Text:
Friendship Heights
Dan Egan’s Townhouse
July 2015
He’s not exactly sure what possesses him to text Jonah. But it’s late, and Dan is three whiskeys deep, lounging on his sofa in boxers and a t-shirt, comfortable and tipsy enough to not give a shit. And Jonah’s failed MSNBC interview is the greatest thing he’s ever seen on TV.
Dan’s grinning and laughing to himself, and he figures he must look ridiculous, but he can’t taper the rush of absolute pure joy bursting from within. He’s vibrating from it.
He did this. He flustered Jonah Ryan so much, the giant forgot how to form simple words. Dan has decimated any chance for the world’s largest single-cell organism ever having a career in broadcasting.
So maybe Dan wants to rub it in his face. Maybe he just wants to know if the idiot has regained the ability to converse. So he texts him.
Dan 11:27 PM
Nice interview, handsome
The beans on your tie really bring out the shit brown color of your eyes
Jonah 11:31 PM
fuck u dan
my eyes are hazel
Dan’s not entirely sure this is true. He figures he should probably know the color of Jonah’s eyes given that their faces were inches apart when he assaulted him with that burrito.
He tries to remember. It was intense and it all happened so fast. He had been so angry at Jonah. Livid. Everything wrong in that moment was Jonah’s fault, and Dan was on a mission to make him understand that.
The rage Dan felt was like a spring coil, pulled too far, ready to violently snap. When he viciously gripped Jonah’s sweater vest in his fist, the rage pulled tight. The rage pulled tighter when he shoved the burrito against Jonah’s face, forcing the back of his head against the brick wall. When he threatened to break Jonah’s legs, it pulled tighter still.
It wasn’t until Dan took a step back and looked at Jonah properly that he finally felt the coil of rage within him begin to relax. Disheveled and sweaty, face smeared with refried beans, it was like seeing Jonah all taken apart, ruined for his interview, made all the tension in Dan’s body release.
Hours having passed, Dan isn’t angry anymore but he feels tight inside again, anxious like there’s something unfinished. The alcohol helps. So does rewatching the interview. But now he can’t recall the exact color of Jonah’s eyes. And it feels like the coil is being pulled.
Dan replays the interview (which yeah, he recorded it) and he pauses it on a frame with a closeup of Jonah. Dan sits up and leans forward, squinting at the TV. He frowns, snatching his reading glasses from the coffee table and slipping them on. Jonah’s face becomes distinctly clear, in high-definition.
Maybe his eyes are hazel.
Who knows? What even is the color hazel? It’s not a thing.
Dan 11:35 PM
I’m looking at your stupid face right now moron
Your eyes are the exact color of shit
Jonah 11:35 PM
why are u even looking at me rn
get a life asshole
Dammit, Dan hadn’t expected to have to explain himself. It was stupid to text Jonah in the middle of the night. So fucking stupid. Now he has to save face. His fingers hover over the keyboard as he scours his alcohol-addled brain for a response, but then—
Jonah 11:36 PM
ur obsessed w me egan
Dan 11:36 PM
Shut the fuck up, Jonad
I just watched it
That’s a lie. He’d watched the Andrea Tandy show that morning; saw Jonah’s public fuck-up live. And he’d rewatched it more times than he was prepared to admit.
Jonah 11:36 PM
bullshit
it was on this morning
and its not online
i checked
Well, fuck. Dan can either admit he recorded Jonah’s interview and explain why, or he could lie again. Lie. It’s gotta be a lie; any kind of lie is better than the absurd truth. He might be stupid for starting this, but Jonah’s stupider. He’ll believe almost anything.
Dan 11:38 PM
I always record Tandy
Just now got around to watching
Jonah 11:38 PM
u record that show ??
the morning news
no one records that shit
its useless noise
Dan 11:38 PM
Now now
Don’t downplay your talent for useless noise
You were the special guest of the hour
I’m sure lots of people we know watched
Jonah 11:40 PM
whatever
ur obsessed
Dan 11:40 PM
You must be mortified
You look like you’re buffering
You look like a homeschool kid that’s just been asked to explain evolution
Jonah 11:42 PM
did u just text me in the middle of the gd night to insult me?
i know being a bully gets u off but im not helping u do it
Dan 11:42 PM
But you’re my favorite person to bully, Jonad
—Christ, he’s being colossally dumb now. He pours another three fingers of whiskey. The coil pulls.
Jonah 11:42 PM
ur a sick fuck egan
im not falling for ur shit
i know what ur tryin to get me to do
Dan 11:43 PM
I can’t imagine what you mean
*smirk emoji*
Jonah 11:45 PM
fuck off
Dan can picture Jonah frowning, his jaw clenched tight. He can hear his voice, aggressive and pouty at the same time.
He smiles and takes a drink. Maybe he should fuck off. Maybe he should leave Jonah alone for now. But he thinks maybe Jonah doesn’t want to be left alone. So he opens his photo app and selects a video. He shares it with Jonah, his heart sort of skipping as he hits send.
Dan 11:47 PM
Remember this?
He hits play on the video, deciding he wants to watch it at the same time as Jonah. He hasn’t watched it since the day he filmed it and sent it to every person on his EEOB contact list.
It’s a video of Jonah after he was fired for the whole West Wing Man debacle. He’s stumbling through the halls of the White House as security escorts him from the building. He’s cussing at every person he passes and dropping shit along the way. Dan’s favorite part is when he asks Jonah if he has any last words and Jonah comes back with a loud Fuck you, Dan. There’s always a certain rush Dan gets whenever Jonah’s overblown anger is focused directly on him.
Dan smirks. It’s still as funny as it was a month ago. It’s funnier knowing Jonah’s watching it because even though it’s one of his many public humiliations, Dan knows he can’t resist reliving all the attention. He’s like the class clown of the West Wing. Or maybe the village idiot. He’s good at playing the role.
Jonah 11:52 PM
ur a dick Dan
u know friends dont do shit like that
Dan bursts out with laughter. He feels giddy. Whenever Jonah calls them ‘friends’, Dan is always tempted to remind him that they are not friends. They’re not even ‘frenemies’. To be perfectly honest, he’s not sure what to call… whatever it is they are. Regardless, he never corrects him. He likes letting Jonah think they’re friends. It’s one more way to mock him without him even knowing he’s being mocked—which seems meaner somehow.
Maybe Dan is a bit of a bully.
Dan 11:53 PM
Whenever you get angry you do this thing where you clench your jaw and sort of pout your mouth
Really accentuates your overbite
Jonah 11:53 PM
it’s not an overbite u dick
it’s a jaw discrepancy
Dan 11:53 PM
So get it fixed
Jonah 11:53 PM
no fucking way
it requires surgery
Dan 11:54 PM
So?
Jonah 11:54 PM
so thats serious shit
some ppl dont wakeup
Christ, Jonah makes it so easy.
Jonah 11:54 AM
i like how i look dan
ladies like how i look
my jaw gives me gravitas
Dan 11:55 AM
Gravitas?
Did your mommy tell you that?
You don’t even know what that word means
. . .
What are you looking it up now?
Minutes pass with no response and Dan thinks maybe Jonah’s done. He feels bad for mocking Jonah’s looks. It seems especially cruel given Dan has always been naturally good-looking. Jonah can’t help that he looks like the world’s dorkiest Slenderman. And if Dan is being honest, he likes how Jonah looks. There is something about him that often catches his eye. Dan wouldn’t call it ‘gravitas’, but it’s something.
A text comes through with a video attached. Dan’s stomach drops.
Jonah 12:00 AM
when u get mad u get sweaty and ur face turns red
Fucking hell, this can’t be good. Dan hits play.
His heart briefly stops as he realizes it’s a video of himself from five or more years ago. He looks younger, fresh-faced and bright-eyed. Naive, he thinks.
He’s not angry in the video. He’s not red in the face. He is drunk and he’s blathering about nothing, and for some reason Jonah’s filming it.
He must’ve been really drunk because he doesn’t remember any of this. They’re at some cliché chain restaurant, drinking massive mugs of foamy golden beer, and munching on what appears to be an offensively greasy pile of cheese fries. They’re in a booth, Dan on one side, Jonah on the other. They’re laughing. They’re having fun.
(They’re not friends. They’ve never been friends.)
The giddiness from before fizzles away. Dan takes a drink and continues to watch.
“Why are you doing that?” Dan says to the camera. “Fuck off with it.” He’s slurring a little.
“It’s your thirtieth birthday, old man. Figured you’d wanna remember this.”
Dan offers Jonah a withering look. “Remember what, exactly? A night out at DC’s lamest Chilis with DC’s lamest intern, celebrating the shittiest birthday of my life to date?”
Jonah hums as though, whatever, guess we’ll see about that.
“Why would I wanna remember this living nightmare?”
Jonah chuckles; it’s mischievous. (Dan can picture the expression on Jonah’s face, the way he shrugs like he has no idea why anything is happening ever.)
Dan is too drunk to care and lets Jonah have his fun. He gives him the finger, but his eyes are shining with what can only be called happiness.
Suddenly, there’s a loud burst of lackadaisical singing and clapping. A group of bored-looking servers begin circling their booth. They’ve come out of nowhere. Dan’s eyes grow wide with shock, then he glares across the table at Jonah.
Happy happy birthday, from all of us to you…
Dan’s entire face flushes deep red.
It’s the Irish in him, Dan thinks bitterly. Sometimes he hates his fair complexion. He hates the way his freckles become more pronounced when he blushes. He hates the way his brow wrinkles and his eyes gleam with indignation. He’s seething, clenching his teeth. His lips curl back and it’s ugly. And he’s sweating, perspiration forming on his temple, wetting his hairline.
Fucking hell, Jonah was right.
A server places an enormous piece of chocolate cake with a lit sparkler in front of Dan.
“Make a wish, Dannyboy!”
Dan shoots daggers with his eyes at Jonah, and he laughs.
“Come on, you’re still young enough to believe in wishes—”
“Fuck you,” he growls.
“Oh, Daniel! Not in front of the waitstaff!”
Dan cringes, glancing at the group of underpaid twenty-somethings, eager to leave and entirely unimpressed. With a scowl, he blows out the candle. The servers respond with halfhearted cheers and applause before promptly escaping.
“You. Are an asshole.” Dan crosses his arms, still glaring.
—Dammit, he pouts when he’s angry too.
“You like it,” Jonah says playfully.
“Eat a dick, asshole.”
Jonah laughs. “Danny Egan, ladies and gentlemen.”
___
The video ends and Dan is speechless. His heart is in his throat. He gapes at his phone, his face hot, his mouth dry. He tips back his glass, finishing the whiskey. Fuck, he thinks. This was a mistake.
It takes him possibly too long to come up with a response.
Dan 12:18 AM
How do you have a video of me from that long ago?
I think you’re the one who’s obsessed
An eternity later (one minute), Jonah texts back.
Jonah 12:19 AM
*shrug emoji*
Dan cannot fathom how to respond to that. He can’t even decipher what it means. Is Jonah admitting he’s obsessed? …With him?
It’s not entirely unbelievable. In fact, when he considers it, it makes a lot of sense. What doesn’t make sense is that Dan likes the idea. He likes the notion of Jonah being irrationally fixated on all things ‘Dan Egan’. Maybe Jonah has a man crush. Maybe it’s a crush-crush.
Dan’s heart begins to race, and he can’t help himself.
Dan 12:20 AM
Jonah, are you sweet on me?
Jonah 12:20 AM
stfu
Dan 12:20 AM
Do you like me?
Jonah 12:20 AM
i mean i like u
but i dont like like-like u
Dan 12:21 AM
oh my god, are you ten years old?
Just say it, you coward
Jonah 12:21 AM
fuck u
im not afraid of shit
Dan 12:22 AM
You’re afraid to admit you wanna fuck me
Jonah 12:22 AM
jesus dan
Dan 12:22 AM
*shrug emoji*
Dan isn’t sure what he’s doing right now, what it is he’s trying to start. But the tension is there again, and this feels like the thing to do. This tension is better than the rage. It’s more thrilling and he’s less desperate for relief.
Except, no. He does feel desperate; desperate to relieve the tension coiling inside. It’s a distinctly different sort of tension fighting to release now. It’s arousal.
This is not the first time he’s been turned on by Jonah. It’s not the first time he’s thought about doing… things with Jonah. And this isn’t the first interaction they’ve had that could be categorized as flirting.
Dan’s imagination begins to run away with him. He thinks about how tall Jonah is, how he would need to reach up to kiss him. He thinks about the size of Jonah’s hands and how they might feel circled tight around his wrists. He thinks about how Jonah looks at him sometimes, hungry and sort of stupidly distracted; like he’s confounded by Dan’s beauty. That’s how it feels.
Jonah probably demands eye contact when he fucks. He’s likely good at it, though Dan can’t fathom why he knows that. Jonah probably fucks like his life depends on it being mind-blowing. Fuck, Jonah probably gives amazing head; that perfect gaping mouth.
Dan presses his palm against his crotch, trying to ease the growing tension. His hands are shaking now and his mouth feels dry again as he stares at the phone screen, his brain rendered stupid by arousal. He has no words left.
Maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s enough for now. They had a ‘friendly’ midnight chat, they joked around a bit, mocked each other. It’s their thing. It was fun.
Dan sets his phone aside and takes several deep breaths, trying to cleanse away the salacious thoughts. It means nothing. Just another weird interaction with Jonah Ryan that he will never forget and quite conveniently omit from his memoir.
However, the tension is still there, a prickly feeling of unfinished business. It’s mortifying, but Dan knows that the only way to get relief at this point is to do the unthinkable: jerk off to Jonah.
It would feel so good. He knows. He’s done it before.
So he settles into the idea. There’s no going back on it now it’s in his mind. He lays across his sofa resting his head back on a cushion. He already feels hot with shame (lingering catholic guilt), but it feels good. It’s like doing something naughty and sinful, and he can get away with it because he’s Dan Egan; he’s pretty and intelligent and charming, and wouldn’t Jonah like to see him being bad.
Just as Dan slips a hand into his boxer briefs, his phone begins to vibrate making him jump out of his skin. Jesus Christ, it’s like being caught by a nun, practicing his dirty self-abuse like the pervert he is, (and he sort of wants the nun to watch.) And sweet Jesus, Jonah Ryan is calling him.
Dan’s cock throbs. His hand reflexively takes hold of his shaft and grips tight, squeezing at the base. He bites his lip and presses his eyes shut, willing back his arousal. His heart is pounding and the blood is rushing in his ears. He hasn’t even started, and already he’s breathless.
—Because Jonah Ryan is calling him.
Dan reluctantly releases his cock and snatches the phone, and fuck him, he tries not to sound out of breath, but it couldn’t be more obvious when he huffs out, “What the fuck, Jonah?”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
It’s Jonah’s cranky voice, the tone he uses when he thinks someone has wronged him and he’s pissed off and pouty. It reminds Dan of the kid in class that always threatens to tell on everyone for breaking the rules. Dan smiles.
“Oooo…” Dan says like he’s intrigued. “What’s that?”
Jonah scoffs, “You’re so transparent, dude. It’s fucking pathetic.”
Dan thinks, yeah maybe. He also doesn’t care. Jonah’s often able to read him pretty accurately, but sometimes he’s entirely clueless. Dan prefers the latter. It’s always amusing to watch Jonah figure something out.
“What is it you think I’m doing exactly?” Dan begins. I’m sitting here with my dick in my hand, thinking about your sinful mouth…
“You’re trying to get me to engage in sexting with you so you can screenshot that shit and sell it to TMZ or something.”
Dan laughs.
“You’re a shady fuck, Egan. I don’t know why you think I’ll always fall for your shit.”
“Maybe because you keep falling for my shit.”
“Shut up,” he mumbles grumpily. Dan couldn’t contain his smile now if he tried.
“You sound like a church lady when you say sexting.”
Jonah huffs. So pouty.
“Also, TMZ? Why the fuck would TMZ want anything to do with you? You’re not Tom Cruise.”
“I’m the Maverick of DC,” Jonah says, entirely serious. “TMZ will pay thousands for that kinda shit one day.”
Dan laughs, “Oh, like when you become president in 2026?”
“That’s a midterms year, Dan.”
“I’m aware, fuckwad.” So stupid.
They both go quiet. Dan can hear gunfire and explosions in the background.
“What’re you doing?” he asks because he wants to imagine the freakishly tall man with the broad shoulders and the massive hands.
“Black Ops three,” Jonah answers, some bitterness lingering in his tone.
“What the fuck is Black Ops Three?”
Jonah groans like he’s disappointed, “Are you really that old, dude?”
Thirty-five. It’s not like dad-old… is it?
“I’m not a child playing video games in his mom’s basement in the middle of the night.”
“I’m not sitting in a pretentious DC townhouse watching the goddam news in the middle of the night.” Jonah scoffs. “Shouldn’t you be in bed right now, grandpa?”
Shut the fuck up, Dan thinks, angry that he’s becoming angry. The tension inside coils tighter. He takes a deep breath, listening to Jonah’s video game. He can picture him sprawled out on his couch in—Dan guesses—a t-shirt, boxers, and long socks. He doesn’t know why the socks, it’s just how he pictures him.
His cock swells, aching.
“Would that turn you on if I said I was in bed?”
“Jesus, Dan,” Jonah’s suddenly more alert. “I knew you had a thing for me, you are such a goddam whore, Egan. Are you touching yourself right now?”
“No,” —yes.
“I fucking knew it, you perv. I knew it when you shoved that burrito in my face today. You’re a degenerate.”
“You know me so well, if I’m a degenerate then you are too ‘cause you wanna fuck me.”
Jonah’s breath hitches.
“Were you hard during that interview?” Dan continues, his heart racing. “Is that why you couldn’t form sentences?”
Jonah scoffs, but it sounds half-hearted. “No. I was just thrown—her questions were like not what I prepared for and I didn’t sleep last night and—” he growls. “Fuck, Dan! Will you just let it go? I don’t get why my humiliation gets you all wet, just keep it to yourself.”
“Aww… Jonad,” Dan feigns pity. “Want me to apologize? Would that make you feel better?”
Jonah releases a rushed breath. The fuck, he whispers like he can’t believe this is happening.
“Would you like that?”
“Yes,” Jonah instantly replies.
“Touch yourself and I’ll tell you I’m sorry.”
“No.”
Dan strokes himself, slow and loose. “I’ll do it too,” he promises. “Equally culpable and all that.”
“I’m not falling for your shit, Dan,” he whispers like someone else is listening to their conversation.
Dan bites his lip to tamper his shallow breaths. At this point, he could get off even if the call ended.
“There was this moment,” Dan closes his eyes. “You got this dazed look like your brain just shut down. Your mouth was hanging open…”
Jonah is so quiet, Dan wonders briefly if he hung up. He holds his breath, straining to hear the sounds on Jonah’s end. Jonah is panting softly, it’s almost imperceptible. Dan’s cock throbs. He presses his lips shut, containing an urge to moan.
“What were you thinking about?” Dan asks like it’s a secret. “Or was your dick doing the thinking?”
“Are you watching it right now, asshole?”
Dan hums, a nonanswer. The TV is paused on Jonah’s stupid face. He reaches for the remote and turns it off. It’s not how he wants to picture him.
“Do you wanna know what I’m thinking about?”
“Fuck yes,” Jonah gasps.
“The look in your eyes when I shoved you back against that wall.”
“Fuck.”
“I’m thinking about your mouth—your giant gaping mouth.” Dan prays that Jonah is touching himself. “Sometimes I wanna grab you by your stupid hair and force you to your knees.”
“Jesus, Dan…”
Dan imagines Jonah looking up at him with his mouth open, the tip of his dick on Jonah’s tongue. He swipes his thumb across the leaking head and shudders. “What would you do if I did that?”
“Punch you in the dick.”
“You sure about that?”
“I hate you.”
“What were you thinking when I shoved that burrito in your face?”
“I definitely wasn’t turned on like you, you sick fuck.”
“You’re turned on now.”
“Shut up,” he mumbles, angry.
“No. I wanna tell you something.”
Jonah groans, exasperated and horny. He’s definitely touching himself. Dan’s stomach flips excitedly. He cradles the phone against his shoulder and quickly shoves his boxers down his thighs. “Do you wanna know what I thought about?”
“Christ yes.”
“I thought about you on your knees. I imagined you looking up at me, with those hazel fucking eyes… begging to suck my cock.”
Well, that’s all a lie. Dan had wanted to tear Jonah’s dick off, not get him off. But the lie is working. Jonah moans softly. Dan wishes he could see him touching himself.
“Do you wanna suck my cock, Jonah?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
“I’ll let you.”
“You’re a slut, you’ll let anyone suck your cock.”
“It’s a nice cock.”
Jonah groans quietly.
“Right now, I’m hard as a rock.”
“I can take you.”
Dan’s breath catches, thrilled by Jonah’s participation. It prompts him to spit in his palm, disgustingly horny as he wets his dick.
“How deep?”
“With your shrimp dick? I think I can handle it.”
“I’m not small, Jonah.” —Not a lie.
“Psh, there’s no fucking way.”
Dan has never before had the urge to send a dick pic, but he thinks if Jonah asked for one right now, he’d send it in a heartbeat.
“I mean sure, next to your mutant dick, it might look average. But I can make you gag.”
“Fuck—Dan,” he moans outright.
“I can bring tears to your eyes—your hazel eyes.”
“Bullshit.”
“How big are you?”
“Are we fourteen, asshole?”
Dan guesses Jonah’s cock is the size of a red sequoia. “I wanna know if I can take you.”
“You wish.”
“Yeah… I do. Are you gonna cum?”
“No.”
“Liar. Do you ever say my name? You know, when you’re thinking of me and you cum?”
“Get over yourself.”
Dan is so far gone now. “Sometimes, I just say your name… when I’m working myself up.”
“Knew you had a thing for me…”
“I do,” Dan admits, breathless.
Jonah moans, “God, wish I could see you right now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
“Fuck yeah, so fucking pretty, baby.”
Dan’s breath catches and he bites hard into his lip. Precum is leaking down his cock. His entire body tingles with need. He feels hot, so he sits up, dropping the phone to his lap, and tugs his shirt off. Switching the call to speaker, he settles back against the cushion and rests the phone on his chest.
“My cock is pretty too,” Dan says quietly. He wonders if Jonah can hear his heart pounding. Dan can hear it, thundering in his ears. He can also hear Jonah panting. “Do you wanna taste me?”
Jonah moans, heavy with arousal. Dan smiles, tightening his grip on his cock.
“Make me gag.” The words spill out of Jonah, unabashedly.
“You have to get me wet,” Dan encourages.
“Yes.”
“Do I taste good?”
“So fucking good—fuck, Dan.”
The sound of Jonah saying his name like that, all sex-drunk, it makes Dan shiver, hips bucking up in the air. He whines, sounding needy.
“You’re mouth is hot. Wet and just—fuck.”
Jonah hums, groaning. Dan imagines brushing Jonah’s hair from his face, his forehead sweaty, his eyes wet with emotion as he gazes up at him.
“Can you take me deeper?” Dan whispers, his voice trembling.
“Please,” Jonah gasps.
Dan’s toes curl as he digs his heels into the sofa. He squirms out of his boxers, tossing them to the floor so he can spread his legs.
“You’re so good, J,” he praises. “I want you to look up at me.”
Jonah murmurs something incoherent in response. It sounds like a plea.
“Are you crying yet?” Dan asks softly.
There’s a choked sort of sound from Jonah and Dan swears he goes to some shared headspace with him where Jonah is actually sucking his cock. “You can take it,” he encourages, picturing the tears pooling in Jonah’s eyes.
Jonah whimpers.
“God, J,” Dan pants, slipping out of the fantasy into this bizarre reality, where he and Jonah Ryan are having insanely hot phone sex.
“Fuck, Dan.”
The sound of their panting breaths in harmony swiftly pulls Dan to the edge. “Wanna see you,” he gasps softly, the words spilling out of him.
Jonah sort of grunts. The sound is animalistic, like he’s out of his mind; chasing his own release.
“Are you wet?” Dan whispers.
Jonah keens, so whiney. “Danny,” he whimpers.
He’s close. Dan is too, hovering on the brink; a madman ready to leap to his death. He knows what he wants, what he needs—what they both need.
“Cum with me?”
“Fuck yes,” Jonah gasps eagerly. “Yes, baby… please.”
“I’m really close.”
“Me too.”
Dan growls, “Fucking christ, Jonah. You’re so hot.”
“Yes,” Jonah agrees, except he means Dan is hot. Jonah is going to come from Dan.
“Jonah,” Dan huffs, fisting his cock, stroking fast. “Feels so good,” he murmurs. The muscles in his abdomen flex, the heat in his belly growing heavy.
“I’m there,” Jonah gasps, sudden and panicked. “Fuck, I’m there, Danny… shit, shit!”
Dan’s eyes roll back in his head as the pleasure cascades over him, hips thrusting in the air, over and over and over. He aims his release onto his chest. With every hot ribbon of cum, his pleasure is compounded.
Everything in Dan’s reality fades away. Gone. He’s in that space with Jonah, cumming in ecstasy with the man that turns him on and pisses him off in equal measure. Jonah is groaning, loud and long, and the beautiful sound invades Dan’s mind. He’s maybe groaning too.
It seems an eternity, swimming in bliss before reality begins to drift back. Dan’s chest is heaving as he chases his breath. He can hear Jonah gasping as he tries to catch his own breath. There’s a sort of whine at the end of each of his breaths; a wounded sound.
Dan decides it’s cute and he laughs, his body vibrating with lingering pleasure. “Shit, J” he whispers in awe.
“That was…” Jonah’s lost, unable to find the words.
“Yeah,” Dan says, equally dumb. He slides a hand over his chest, finds his phone. “I got cum on my phone,” he confesses.
Jonah laughs, easy and endeared. “Such a degenerate,” he teases.
Dan hums, mildly agreeing. “You like it, you giant pervert.”
“I certainly fucking do.”
“Do you feel better?”
Jonah snorts, amused. “Uh, yeah. Feeling pretty good, Dan. I’m covered in jizz—like just fucking painted in spunk.”
“Gross.”
“Dude, you’re literally talking to me on a phone covered in your own load. Glass houses.”
Dan smiles. This was fun. He’s almost sad it’s over and he finds himself hoping it will happen again.
“So, do you accept my apology?”
“You never said you’re sorry, asshole!” It’s Jonah’s pouty voice again. Dan likes him; kind of a lot.
“I’m not really,” Dan admits cooly.
“What?”
“I’m not sorry,” he clarifies. “It felt good. This felt good. We’re even now, dumbass.”
Jonah huffs, indignant, “You tricked me.”
“No, I didn’t trick you,” Dan explains. “I was going to apologize, but now I’m not going to.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Dan sighs, “I like tall morons in sweater vests, for starters.”
Dan can almost hear Jonah smile, preening like he’s just been crowned Miss America.
“I’m sorry for attacking you with a burrito,” Dan says with no emotion like he’s bored.
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m not.”
Dan feels giddy and satisfied, the coiled spring of tension inside him a distant memory. Maybe it was stupid to text Jonah in the middle of the night, but it turned into something delicious that Dan can easily see himself becoming addicted to.
He’s definitely not sorry.