comjasparable

[comjasparable]

THE COUCH [NSFW]…

“Joe!” Caspar whines, letting the book he was half-heartedly holding drop to the floor. He’s absolutely knackered, as he has been spending hours on end planning his next video and he desperately needs a break. Joe is on his phone, as per usual, but instantly slips it back into his pocket as Caspar sprawls himself over his best friend’s lap.

“I’m tired,” Caspar says, pouting before he smiles sheepishly at Joe. Joe laughs and pulls a face. “Jesus, mate, get off me. You’ve only been at it again for an hour.” He runs his fingers endearingly through Caspar’s hair, though, earning himself a broad grin from the South African. “My half of the braincell is strained!” Caspar groans again, arching into Joe’s touch. It’s nice to have a best mate whom you can cuddle and touch and hug and kiss all the time. Caspar is really “fucking perverted”, as Joe constantly tells him, but Caspar honestly just likes being close to people, especially physically, especially with the older boy touching him right now.

Joe has sunglasses perched on the top of his nose. Caspar lazily flicks them off, wanting to look into Joe’s eyes. If he does it for long enough, Joe usually gets freaked out, which will precede wrestling and a laughing fit. Instead, Joe smirks and says, “Frisky are we, Caspar?” He raises a bushy eyebrows and tugs a little at Caspar’s hair, resulting in the escape of a tiny, embarrassing yelp from Caspar’s mouth. Caspar smiles gleefully and swiftly sits up, before grabbing onto Joe’s lean frame and lifting the other boy unceremoniously so that he’s straddling Caspar’s lap. “Fuck you,” Joe exclaims, but he’s grinning and pressing his small body shamelessly against Caspar’s lower region, resulting in a low groan from both of them. They are so comfortable in each other’s presence, attached at the hip since day one. These…things they sometimes get up to are merely platonic, okay? They’re best friends, they know each other better than themselves, they’re always together; it’s only natural that they get each other off occasionally. Okay, quite regularly…if Caspar’s being honest. But that’s what all best mates do, of course. Nothing weird about it. Caspar pulls himself from his thoughts and instead hungrily presses his mouth against Joe’s, who responds immediately and eagerly by sliding his tongue against Caspar’s teeth. This results in the both of them errupting into a fit of giggles, but they continue after they’ve calmed down. Caspar has his arms circled around Joe’s waist, pulling them impossibly close and still needing more, much more. Joe is clutching and tugging, trying to rid Caspar of his hoodie, grinding faster against him now, panting slightly. It’s silent in Caspar’s house, except for their ragged breathing. Caspar pulls away from the kiss momentarily to assist Joe in taking off his top, before he attacks Joe’s neck again hungrily, biting and sucking and worshipping the sensitive skin there. Joe makes a low growling sound in the back of his throat and Caspar smiles against him, pleased at always being able to reduce the sarcastic, seemingly cold boy to a quivering, blushing mess. Joe is his and only his. "You’re leaving marks, you dickwad,” Joe whispers in his ear, sending a shiver running through Caspar. “Fuck it,” he breathes and bites down on Joe’s shoulder lightly, earning an encouraging moan for his efforts. Caspar tugs roughly at Joe’s T-shirt, trying to prevent his eyes from rolling back at the sensation of Joe’s hard-on rubbing against his own. “Off,” he manages to get out, gesturing at Joe’s clothes. Joe obliges instantly, reaching over his shoulder and pulling his grey shirt off in a nimble motion. Caspar is presented with the most glorious abs ever, because Joe may be small, but he is definitely fit, very fit. He starts tracing lazy circles across the other boy’s abdomen, hard muscles contracting beneath his delicate touch. After a few minutes of wandering hands that grip and feel and squeeze and worship, sloppy kisses and whispered endearments, Joe becomes impatient. God, he is an impatient one, always nagging at Caspar that likes taking his time in bed. Caspar pulls him into a crushing hug, teasing, but Joe pushes him away with surprising strength. He gribs Caspar’s wrists in a steady hand, pinning them above his head. Then he’s briskly pulling down Caspar’s zipper, murmering something that sounds like “fuck” and it sends Caspar’s heart beating out of his fucking chest. It’s, of course, nothing compared to Joe firmly cupping him through his boxers. Caspar throws his head back, marvelling at the sensation of Joe’s hand palming him through the thin material. His mouth his hanging open and Joe is most likely to mock him for it later, as well as his loud breathing, but right now Caspar doesn’t give a fuck. He pulls his arms free from Joe’s loosening grip and, with fumbling hands, reaches for the smaller boy’s skin-tight jeans. Jesus, Joe and his skinny jeans… They do weird things to Caspar’s mind. He can’t seem to get the zip undone, too focussed on Joe’s hands that are everywhere, all over him, moving in just the right way. Joe huffs in faked annoyance and undoes his pants himself, revealing white Calvins that are stretching invitingly around his leaking prick. “Fuck, Joe,” Caspar breathes against his neck, reaching inside Joe’s underwear to grip his length firmly in his palm. Joe’s dick is hot and heavy and a trickle of pre-come coats his hand in stickiness, but he doesn’t mind. Of course he doesn’t mind. This is fucking brilliant. With a hazy mind and his favourite person in the world on top of him…Caspar can’t possible be any happier. He pulls Joe harshly towards him, sending both of them tumbling into the soft, purple cushions of the couch. “Bloody idiot,” Joe says and laughs, resuming his skilled strokes, now underneath Caspar. “I…wanna…together,” Caspar mouthes, as his lungs are failing him as they perpetually in Joe’s presence. Joe nods his acknowledgement and speeds up his paste a little. Their naked chests are rubbing against each other, a thin sheen of sweat coating them, and everything is hot, hot, hot and too close, close, yet not close enough. Caspar feels his orgasm coming on; it’s going to be a mind-blowing one, all right. He wants Joe to experience the same thing, so he swats his hand away from his prick, earning a puzzled glance from Joe. He climbs off his best mate and the other boy suddenly looks shattered, confused. Caspar giggles. Then he kneels. And takes Joe into his mouth. “Jesus fuck, Caspar!” is Joe’s response. His head is thrown back and his legs are trembling slightly. He laces his fingers through Caspar’s hair, holding him there. Caspar swirls his tongue around the tip, tasting the bitter-salty pre-come residing there and feeling way too fucking aroused at the thought of Joe inside of him. He licks along Joe’s shaft, making the brunette’s dick twitch in anticipation. Then, finally, he swallows the entire length. And Joe comes. In long white spurts down Caspar’s throat while screaming “fuck fuck fuck” over and over again. Caspar only needs to give himself a few tugs before he’s coming too, scrunching his eyes shut and exhaling loudly. He lies down next to Joe once more, feeling considerably more relaxed and ready to work again. Joe snuggles closer to him, sticky and still panting. “I love you,” they say at the same time, smile and fall asleep. This is how Olly and Josh find them a few hours later.