Silly goofy davesport oneshots book

16. Closeted [smut]

Not any of the recent requests but oh well I'm unmotivated as shit and this is all I managed to squeeze out. Also this may or may not be a plot I've been trying to write out since chapter 6 lol.

! Plot by @loomvine !
(sorta I changed a little but hush)

Streaks of light peaked through the creaks of Jack's closet, brightening Dave's presence in there. He sat there as he so often would, peering through to get a fair visual on his orange counterpart doing a task as simple as folding laundry. Could you blame him, he looked hot doing it. Watching the man lazily fold a series of his purple button ups, his mind drifted off to a less ordinary task. Jack began to hum a song, only helping the tent in the other's boxers grow. Even hearing his voice did an extreme number on him, a 'lil homo if you ask me. 

The fabric of his boxers and jeans was straining against his growing erection, biting his lip as he focused on the melody Jack'd been humming. Despite having his vocal cords crushed, he had a beautiful and soothing voice. Though Dave knew very well able to produce other noises with that voice of his, blurred memories of drug filled nights running back to him. 

Not that he had much dignity, but the remaining sad bit was thrown in a dark corner amongst author's own. He made sure to keep quiet as he unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them to his knees. A sharp inhale followed, gaze fixated on Jack as he teased his dick through the fabric of his boxers. His length pressed against his palm, lightly trembling at the friction and the overall situation. Sitting against some discarded boxes, he began to switch his gaze between Jack and his dick, yet keeping focused on his hums. His boxers followed to his knees, cock exposed to the light of day. 

Hissing soft praises to himself under his breath, he took himself in hand as Jack's hum began to shift towards a song. He hesitated for a second before slowly stroking his length downward, hindered by the lack of lubricant. Well aware of the fact he was planted in Jack's closet without him knowing, he decided on just a quick rub. His eyes peered back up to search for the orange; to no avail. And so, he was ever so slightly surprised as the closet doors were pulled open before him. He was now faced with the man in question, holding a pile of neatly folded denim fabric. 

"Seriously...?"

His face spoke more of disappointment than it did of surprise, reaching over the exposed Dave to store his clothes on a shelf above him. 

"In my fucking closet?"

He continued as he wasn't getting a reply from his counterpart, placing his hands against his waist. Dave chuckled, left clueless on what to answer.

"You think this is funny? What, you're coming out the closet now?"

"I'll fuck whatever sex as long as I get laid, y'know that old sport! Plus, I'm coming in the closet!"

He winked at his own statement, smug look on his face as a splotch of precum had begin to form on his discarded dick.

"God- Alright then, do it."

Jack spoke with an ominous undertone in his voice, stepping back to sit on the end of his bed a few feet across Dave. His expression changed comedically  quick, expecting to get thrown out like every other time he was caught sneaking around the house.

"What now sportsy?"

"Oh come on, you heard me; pick up where you left."

He was flabbergasted, bamboozled, to say the least. A little hesitant, he planted himself back against the boxers, kicking his bottom clothing off with some comedic struggles. Jack watched him in utter fucking silence, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter appearing from his pocket. He lit one and put it between his lips, giving the seemingly hesitant Dave a nod. Too afraid to look him in the eyes, he glared down to his dick as he began to slowly palm it again. Slightly digging his thumb in to his slit and wiping away his precum, both grew aware of the deafening silence.