They didn’t think they’d need a plan last week. This week, they had a pretty good idea what they wanted to do.
Jesse read the numbers on the sign hovering above the door: 404. The hallway itself was empty and silent; it would feel like another world, if the sunlight hadn’t shone through the windows peering out to the street below. The clamour of college pedestrians and cars shuffling down the road could barely crawl up those walls to fill the corridor. Rhythmic clapping and impassioned moans seeped through the door in front of him, smothered by the hard wooden slab yet louder than a felled tree.
Jesse had more than enough time to reflect on Bill’s anger – in between classes and a few meet-ups he engaged in on the weekend. They hardly reflected much on his words. They knew they were in the wrong, and should’ve let him decide the pace. They offered all the apology they could muster in the moment, and it wasn’t likely continuing that trend would be anything short of obnoxious. Besides that, the words themselves were aimless in the moment.
No, they wanted to bring out that wroth again, that left him almost in hysterics. Underneath that stoic and law-abiding attitude was a font of passion and emotion – not too far beneath the surface, even! And this gathering gave perfect conditions to direct that fervor, give it purpose for their own ends: directing Bill into their end – or into their face, or their chest, however he wanted to vent his frustrations on them. Before directing it, they needed to bring it back to the surface. And even then, they had to invite him in just enough; they had to make clear to Bill what they wanted, so he wouldn’t hesitate when the time was right.
They knew just how to do that.
Jesse opened the door wide, confidence in their gait as they strode in. At the very front of the class was the short Asian man – Harry was his name, right? - chest flat against a desk, jeans at his ankles, and his toned cheeks parted by Nick’s lengthy cock.
Damnit. Immediately, they realized, their plan would need a bit of fine-tuning.
That pale twink was grinding his hips into Harry’s ass, grunting with each push. His navy slacks were still hoisted up above his waist, with only his shaft peeking out the fly in front. He didn’t even unbutton his blue dress shirt. No, the man was perfectly content to be fully dressed as he plowed into Harry, working inches of his length in that puckered hole.
They wouldn’t let this detour throw them off track. They kept a cordial smile as they continued into the room. Their hand was already on the wood behind them, when a voice chided from the back:
“Make sure you close that!”
Looking deeper into the lab, they could see the other three members: Cyril lounged in a chair with its front feet in the air, and its back resting against a desk behind him. His was an easy enough name to remember: Cyril with the cerulean hair. He was fully dressed, even wearing a blue leather jacket, though his hand found its way into Kevin’s lap, sitting right beside him. Kevin was a fresher name in their name; he gave them his socials, and they were more than happy to peruse through his cosplay photos and thirst traps! On closer inspection, Kevin still had a pair of trunks over his package, as well as Cyril’s eager hand, kneading and groping the meat beneath. He wore a polite smile, and waved to Jesse, unperturbed by his partner’s fiddling.
And the source of the ever-chastising voice sat opposite to the doorway, still close to the front of the classroom, head just popping up from the laptop screen in front of him. Bill’s gaze didn’t hold the same contempt as the first time they’d met, so much as a mild disinterest. Seeing that subtlety wasn’t easy, between the distance he kept from the entrance and the mop of hair covering half his face. To no one’s surprise, he was fully-dressed: were it not red instead of green, they would swear he came in with the same thin sweater and button-up shirt he wore the week before.
The door clicked into place with a thud behind Jesse. Nick was already occupied, as were most of the others. Bill was isolated. At the very least, they schemed to sow seeds for later; plant an idea of how he could use them later when he starts to boil over, even trying to get a rise out of him ahead of time, teasing him into position... They smirked, and sauntered across the room.
“Bill, hi~!” they sang. “Almost feels a little weird, being the last one here today. I guess you guys all wrap up class earlier on Tuesdays?”
He squinted around the room quickly as Jesse approached. He slouched just a little in his chair. “I guess so...? Microbiology classes take place in the same building as this, so I don’t really have far to go on Tuesdays.” He blinked, looking to Kevin. “Wait, when’s your micro class supposed to be?”
Kevin was already peering over to the two. “That’s Wednesday mornings for me – the lectures, anyway.”
“Oh, you guys share a major?”
“Yup.” Bill turned back to the laptop screen, its light glaring off his glasses. “Harry’s a year or two our junior, but he’s in bio too.”
Somewhere in between the pants and moans at the front of the room came a laboured ‘Yup!’ from Harry. Jesse cocked his head to watch, giving a thoughtful hum. A myriad of flirtatious remarks emerged in their head revolving around biology, but... No, nothing but low-hanging fruit. They watched Nick moving his hips like a piston. They felt their nub stiffening, an ache under their skirt growing slowly.
They glance back at Bill, looking up and down his attire. The bottom of the pale pink shirt peeking out from under the paper-thin sweater... The button undone up top, parting down to his collarbone... The chino pants with no belt... Jesse did their best to hold their tongue. It certainly wasn’t a party-going attire, but it was wilder and more unkempt than Nick’s style. Not to mention the mess of hair creeping down his crown, a dull, wet shimmer forming a halo along the clumped strands.
“Say, where’d you get the sweater? It’s a nice shade of red!”
“Huh?” Clearly, it wasn’t a question Bill ever expected. As he shouldn’t. “Oh, no, I think most my clothes are stuff I got from Christmas presents and stuff. Sweaters, especially.”
They pouted. “Dang. I was hoping I could look around and see if they had something in my size – that red’s almost exactly my colour!”
He raised an eyebrow, even glancing down their body. “... Not pink, huh?” His eyes scanned back up. “I mean... I guess I don’t know you that well, but you don’t seem the type to cover yourself up much...?”
A few light jabs – though, he may not have meant them to be jabs at all. Jesse giggled. “Winter’s still a thing, believe it or not! Honestly, the temperature’s been pretty balmy the last couple of weeks; I’m surprised you’re bundled up like this!” That might’ve been low-hanging fruit too, but they needed to nudge him in the right direction at some point...
“You don’t have to pretend to like Bill’s sense of fashion,” came a voice from behind them. A weight rested on their shoulder, turning their head to look. Kevin’s umber hand sat where the weight came from. A polite, relaxed smile stretched along his cheeks – though peering past him, Cyril was pouting. “Genuinely, does that thing even keep you warm? I can see your buttons poking through it!”
“Come on, I didn’t pick the damn thing out.” Bill grumbled.
“You picked it out of your closet,” Kevin snarked. The mop of hair descended back to the laptop screen as he grumbled quietly. Kevin brought his gaze back to Jesse, scanning down their body. “Besides, you’ve got your own style sorted out already, right? Is this romper custom-made?”
They pull back one of the overall straps over their chest. The raspberry fabric covering their tummy ran down into a pair of shorts – rolled up to make the already-short inseam all the shorter. “Oh no, I managed to find this online! I was shocked to see it in my size, so I had to grab it up right away!”
Kevin scanned over the romper some more, eyes narrowed. “Yeah, getting a cute outfit together can’t be easy if you’re tall and plus-sized.” The tone was genuine enough, but a comment like that coming from the most toned man in the room still had a sting to it. “Actually, come to think of it, I think I still have some fabric in this colour; I could put a little something together for you if you want!”
“Huh? Oh, that’s...” An offer out of the blue, from a man they barely knew... Warmth found its way to their cheeks. “I mean, that’d be really cool of you, but that seems like a lot, doesn’t it? We’ve barely met!”
“Oh please,” he scoffed. “It’d be a fun project for me! I’ve got another one lined up with Cyril already, but he wants to do most of the work...” Even as Kevin gushed over his sewing and costuming work, Jesse’s own thoughts drifted away from the conversation and back to their plan. Another distraction keeps them a step behind, but if they can just smile and nod and give a thoughtful hum every so often, he’ll wear himself out, and they can refocus. Back to getting Bill’s kettle to a boil...
“... But yeah, we could see which length better frames your proportions once we get the base of the vest sorted out!” Wait, was that what they agreed to? A raspberry vest... might actually be pretty cute!
“Y-yeah, for sure!” they nodded. “Really, I should be paying for something like this...”
The tailor shrugged. “Don’t worry about it! Like I said, it’s mostly just fun for me – though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to a generous tip~” They both chuckled over that – even if Jesse was just being polite.
Less polite was the hand they spied creeping around Kevin’s waist, worming its way to his crotch. The brush of blue hair poked out from behind his back. “If you’re done with him,” Cyril muttered, “I’m just gonna be taking my guy back now.” He skulked back to their seats, with Kevin following the hand tugging his package like a leash. The smile on the tailor’s face showed he was quite used to the behaviour, at least.
Jesse could appreciate Cyril’s intervention, though. They turned back to Bill, still seated at the laptop – but now with another body joining him. Harry was attentive to him, as he blabbered on about grammar errors here and there – small ones, apparently – and confusion on the series of events that led to whoever being on their knees before whatshisname... wait, are they discussing some sort of smutty writing?
Clearly, however, they were deep enough in conversation. Barging in might annoy and frustrate Bill – as it would anyone – but ‘obnoxious’ is not what Jesse considered a very fuckable trait, and so it wasn’t something they could fathom emulating here. Instead, they turned their attention to the front of the lab. With Harry at the laptop, that left Nick alone. Lo and behold, he reclined against the largest desk present in the room, his cock still peeking from his fly – limp and soft, yet hung low as most men would fully hard. They weren’t sure how long it had been since the two had finished, but if they could keep Nick’s attention on them long enough, it would hardly matter.
Jesse’s stride was halted as fast as it started, though, as a hand grasped their wrist. The hand was certainly smaller than theirs, but its grip was firm, and the tug reeled them back like a yo-yo. “Oh, hey, Jesse, I need another pair of eyes on this real quick!” They had to compose themself, before turning back to Harry.
“Are my eyes not actively on this...?” Bill made his mutterings apparent.
“Yeah, but,” Harry stammered, searching for an excuse, “you don’t have the same experience with this sort of stuff as he does!”
Bill raised an eyebrow beneath his dishevelled bangs. “What, in proofreading?” It was a dry delivery, but the joke was told through the faintest curve at the corners of his lips – the closest thing to a smile he cracked this whole time.
“Come on,” Harry protested, “we both know you don’t know the first thing about sex acts in public.”
Jesse’s ears perked up to the siren’s song. “Huh? Is that what you’re writing about?” They mashed between the two men, eager to peek at the screen. “Lemme see~!”
Bill nudged his way out the side of his chair. “Okay, okay, gimme a second, damnit!” But his fidgeting away and grumblings were miles away from Jesse. Even as they slid into the suddenly-emptied chair beside them, their eyes were fixated, scanning down the screen a word at a time.
The story told of a young man – just shy of his twenties – eager to express his maturity and sexuality in the big city. But a man desperate to prove himself is easily manipulated, and his lack of experience makes him vulnerable. It’s not long into the story that he finds a man nearly twice his age willing to twist and reshape him. His first requests of the younger man are tame, conveniently in line with what they both want of him, but the orders grow in extremity as the story progresses, while depictions of his interest and pleasure grow thin. Stripped nude, hands first tied behind his back, cock caged... By the end of the story, the younger man is blindfolded and strapped into a harness of a sex club, used by the hungry patrons again and again, and left wondering if he’ll be released come dawn – and quietly snuck in at the end, he muses if he wants to be released at all.
There was difficulty in reading through the whole story for Jesse. Not for any grammar or spelling issues, and not for the severity of the content. The difficulty was how their crotch was fucking aching, picturing themself in the young man’s position the whole time. This one story told all to them: Harry was a kindred spirit.
“So, let’s talk about this last line...” From their lips, an ocean of critique spilled. They gushed on the pacing of the story, how he crafted the characters with the right mix of realism and fantasy, and shared in their own kinks and fantasies. They were reverent in their celebration of the protagonist and his position as a vehicle for the reader to imagine themself in his place – or for some, a toy to be used in a manner the older man had used him. Their biggest difficulty came in how fluctuating his consent was presented, yet even in speaking of it, their love for the prose was clear.
“... but like,” they reasoned, “if this last line is also kind of leading to the idea of him being ‘broken in’, that works as well, if we go harder into how the rest of the sex slowly twists him over time!”
Harry’s head nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah, I think I see what you’re going for!” He reached for the laptop and dove his head into the keyboard, his fingers dancing along the keys. Just as swiftly as Jesse was sucked into the story, Harry was sucked back into writing it. The passion they shared almost made them forget about their scheming.
Almost.
Jesse snuck themself out of the chair. Harry’s head didn’t lift an inch as they slid away. They peered around once again, searching for either Nick or Bill. Whichever of the two were alone, whichever was in a position they could use, just as long as they could get closer to getting a rise from Bill again – without any more fucking interruptions...!
Yet even their thoughts would tempt fate today...
A weight found rest on their shoulder. “Hey, you busy?” Cyril’s voice came from behind them. They glanced behind them. A grin slithered across his face, they could see it just from the corner of their vision.
“Not... really, I suppose.” Their eyes darted back to the front of the classroom. Nick and Bill together. Just casually chatting, as far as they could tell – even with Nick’s meat on full display. Bill seemed no more impassioned than when they entered the room, yet heat moved through Jesse, more with each moment.
“Cool; mind if I squeeze you like a stress ball for a bit?” They hadn’t the chance to answer, when another hand found its way around their body, slipping under the suspender strap of their romper, cupping their chest.
“O-oh!” The tickling under their breast made them shiver. “Not that I’m not into it, but where’s this coming from?”
Cyril chuckled behind them. “I just saw the other two cutting in on you earlier, and thought it’d be fun to get my turn, too~!” They pondered on that, and looked back and forth between Kevin and Harry. One was still head-first in his computer, but Kevin was on his phone, turned well away from his partner in crime. His thumb scrolled down the screen absently. Too absently.
“Wait,” they muttered, “what are you guys scheming, here?”
“Oh, I dunno what they’re up to,” Cyril shrugged. His other hand was finding its way along the top of their romper, fiddling with the buckles of the suspenders. “What makes you so sure they’re scheming, though~?” Both buckles undone, his hands slide down their belly, bringing down the bib, sliding further, down their thighs, the shorts following. Their briefs stood exposed to the room. “What, you got your own plans in the works, or something~?”
They didn’t answer. Cyril brought their romper down below their knees, and brought one of his hands back up beneath their pink tee. They looked back up at the front of the room. Bill gave them a glance. Just one. Not an eyebrow raised. Not a hint of a scowl or a smile or pout. As if nothing was out of the ordinary, he turned back to Nick – who peered with more interest at the show Cyril made of them, cock twitching to life.
Cyril must have noticed their audience as well. “Hey, have you been trying to get back on Nick’s dick this whole time~? You didn’t try just asking him?” A pause, as he lifts up their shirt.
He gasped. He leaned in to their ear. They could hear the wicked smile as he hissed, “Not Nick~!”
The heat flushed their cheeks. They glanced at Bill. He turned to look at Jesse, this time with an eyebrow raised. Cyril’s ponderings must have reached his ears. The heat only grew. Their knees shook beneath them. Perhaps Cyril felt that quaking. Perhaps he just thought it’d be more fun for them to be on their knees for whatever came next. But his hands held their body in a firm grip and guided them down either way.
Nick beamed, seeing Jesse on their knees. He patted Bill’s ass, goading him forward. “Hey, hey,” he cheered, “you gotta get first dibs, dude!”
Bill’s cheeks flushed, as he grimaced back at Nick. “What-- come on, what are you saying, here!?”
But Nick only nudged him further forward. “Hurry up! I still need a minute or two to recover, then I’ll join in!” Bill could only sigh, and walk up to the exposed ‘stress ball’ – even as Cyril’s hands kneaded and molested their meaty breasts. His gaze down at them was judgmental, but uneasy.
He pouted, even as he scanned down their body. The two regained eye contact, both with faces flush. Even as Cyril continued to grope at them, Jesse sat quietly, heat growing in their face, their heart, their crotch... Bill did the same. He stood quietly over them, a question on his mind. The tent grew in his slacks as he paused.
Whether it was his patience or his restraint, it grew thin. The question tumbled down from his lips: “This what you want...?”
There wasn’t much noise in the room when he asked. The clamour of the streets below was barely a whisper in the lab. Somehow, though, to Jesse’s ears, they could’ve sworn he said ‘wanted’. Was this what they wanted, on their knees before the man they tried so hard to get a rise out of? They were at his mercy – not of a beast off his leash, but instead as he held them down by their own.
Their whole plan was twisted against them by fate, it felt. It was humiliating. It was emasculating. Fire burned through their whole body.
And even as they answered, a giggle escaped their lips.
“Fuck yeah, it is~!”