Author's Note: Okay, this story idea was propositioned to me by Cloudy, who was kind enough to allow me to write it, and thus it is dedicated to her. :) It's short, but hopefully it satisfies!
Disclaimer: I do not own DPS.
Richard Cameron was used to being ignored, or at the very least shoved to the back of his friends' minds, until the perfect insult was prepared or someone needed help with trigonometry. He just never expected that he'd be so blatantly disregarded in his own room.
Charlie Dalton is currently pressing Steven Meeks so far into the creaky mattress that it appears as if Meeks is being consumed by the bed. Their hands are everywhere: fondling pectorals, slipping down pants, running up shirts, tangling in hair, cupping necks. It's a frenzy.
And Cameron knows this is wrong. Not only is it against school regulations, but it's just plain wrong. And he knows he should turn them in; and he would, too!...if only it weren't so damn hot to watch. He can't help but stare: wide-eyed, blankets and sheets pulled up to his chin and tucked securely around him.
Charlie presses his pelvis against Meeks, grinding, smirking, and allowing a low moan to pass over his lips and into Meeks' mouth.
That's when Cameron lets out a small squeak of desire, unable to stop himself or at least try to pass it off as some sort of noise one makes in their sleep.
Meeks freezes, but Charlie bolts up, eyes instantly connecting with those of his roommate's. Before Cameron knows it Charlie's jumped across the distance between their beds and now has the voyeuristic ginger pinned in place, almost the same as with Meeks on the opposite side of the room. Charlie is smirking down at Cameron, but the glint in his eye is anything but kind. "You've been watching us the whole time, haven't you?" he guesses, shoving Cameron further into the mattress. "Now, Dick," Charlie continues in an amiable tone. "If you let word of this slip—ever—I'm going to have to say you were involved, too, if you know what I mean." He tilts his head to the side and grins down at his silent roommate, who merely gulps before nodding his head rapidly. "Good," Charlie states before sliding off—full hard-on grazing Cameron's leg—and shrugging at Meeks as if to say, "Better luck next time," because you can be sure there will be a next time.
And Cameron can't help but wish that he really could be a part of it.
Author's Note: Up next, Gerard Pitts.