I realized yesterday was a long time ago.

Night, Tumblr!

iwantmyburd:

#your lips say brotherly hug but your face says hardcore buttsex

By ‘brotherly hug’ he totally means ‘handjob under the table’. In fact…

He’s swallowing some of his drink when his eyes widen and he chokes on the champagne going down his throat. Everyone else at the table looks up, concerned, when Tom coughs, but he quickly corrects himself and clears his throat. His eyes are still wide and there is a twitch to his lips.

“S-sorry. Just, uh, when down the wrong pi—PEE!” The last word is yelped and, again, everyone is staring. He gives them a reassuring smile that satisfied most of them as they turn back to their own drinks and conversations.

When the attention draws away, Tom makes a face and kicks Chris under the table. “What the bloody—f-fuck!—do you think you are doing?” Tom hisses out in as much of a whisper as he can muster with a strong hand currently palming his crotch, quickly making him hard.

“Congratulating you.” Chris whispers back, calm and collected with the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looks relaxed and natural as he takes a sip from his own drink while his hand, hidden under the table, finds Tom’s zipper.

Tom bites back a moan and resists the urge to bend over the table and open his legs for Chris to get better leverage. “S-stop iiittt.” He tries to say, but it comes out more of a breathy moan then anything. “This isn’t—Chris! Stop! There are people all around us!”

“Well then,” Chris leans in close to Tom, whispering in his ear, “Maybe you should keep quiet and come before anyone notices?” His fingers pull down the zipper, grasping Tom through the thin shield of his underwear, and Tom knows arguing is useless at this point. Even if he could talk without moaning, it would be no good. When Chris set his mind to something, he didn’t stop until it was done. Even if it meant Tom was going to make a fool of himself as he squirmed in his seat, biting the inside of his mouth over and over again as Chris worked him.

Tom leaned back ever so slightly, opening his legs wider to give Chris more room to work, just so this whole ordeal would go faster in case anyone decided to take a closer look at why Tom’s cheeks were suddenly growing so red. His own hands fought to find purchase somewhere, grabbing at the table’s edge, his chair, and finally landed on his trophy, gripping tight enough that his knuckles went white when Chris gave his cock an extra hard squeeze. A soft groan left his mouth before he could snap it back in.

“Chris—” He said, trying to make his voice sound as even as possible, but he could still hear the beg within it. And, by Chris’s growing smile, so could he. “Shit just—ah—h-hurry!” He growled, keeping his feet planet to the ground and his hips still. His eyes glanced up to find no one was paying attention to them at the other end of the table. No one had any idea Chris was currently jerking Tom off under the table. Rubbing up and down his shaft, the fabric of his underwear to rough against his sensitive flesh, thumb dragging across the head, smearing precome and—

Tom’s eyes widened and he let out the faintest gasp as his climax hit him, nails trying to dig in to his award as Chris pumped him to completion.

He slumped back in his chair when Chris finally removed his hand, attempting to get his breathing under control. With expert grace, Chris tucked him away, zipped him back up, and gave his leg a squeeze that was suppose to replace the kiss Tom knew the other wanted to give him right then.

“Congratulations, Tom.” He said in a whisper, smiling from ear to ear.

Tom glared. “Thanks, asshole.”