Big Book Of Smornby One Shots

Damp Daydreams (N)

TW: NSFW, Anal Sex

Living in a house with his two best friends was fun most of the time, it was nice being able to get their work done without shipping hard drives halfway across the country and it was even better being able to do the live action work more often. What wasn't so fun though was the lack of personal space, sure their bedrooms were all of a decent size but the walls were thin and that meant that the only viable time to be able to 'relieve some stress' was either in the dead of night when the others were asleep, upstairs or in the shower.
The shower of course provided its own problems, namely that if either of his housemates were in their rooms that the sounds still travelled and he would have to be quieter than the sound of the running water.

Trott was out for the weekend, going back home to see family leaving Ross and Smith to finish editing content over the break in filming.

"Mate you've been in there for AGES, I need a piss." Smith's whine carries through the thin wooden door making Ross stop mid movement.

"Two minutes!" Ross calls, hoping his voice doesn't sound as panicked as he feels.

Smith slaps his palm to the door a few times. "Come on mate."

Ross hurriedly rinses himself off, trying desperately to think of the least arousing things he can as he shuts the shower off and wraps a towel around his hips, giving his own member a death stare. He had been so close when Smith had interrupted him and getting himself to calm down was presenting a bit of a problem.

Looking down at himself he tries to slow his breathing. "Fucking- Swimming pool full of cacti, Boris Johnson sucking off David Cameron, The Queen, Prince Phillip, Prince Phillip doing The Queen-" Ross mumbles to himself, trying to picture the scenes in his head before moving on to more things to try and kill his boner. "The merch goblin, Memory foam mattress or-" No that didn't work, thinking about beds with Smith right outside was not helping the situation. Smith was in his head now.

This wasn't helping.
"Ross!" Smith's voice begs. "If you don't fucking get out of there in the next ten seconds I am going to piss in the sink downstairs."

Ross, flustered, opens the door with his hair stuck to his forehead and tries not to breathe too heavily. He looks as if he has just ran a marathon. Smith makes a scrunched up face and barges in not even bothering to close the door as the sound of liquid splashing into liquid floats out of the room, into the hallway, successfully doing what Ross had not been able to manage and causing the towel to now lay flat against his legs.

Smith appears moments later, reaching out and grabbing at the bottom of the towel still wrapped around Ross to dry his hands. "Cheers mate." Smith grins.

The tent in the towel was back, and Ross was defeated. Fuck.

"Ross? Mate?" Smith licks his lips, waving a hand in front of Ross' far-off look. His eyes look glazed over, and he's looking right over Smith's shoulder.

Smith's hand brushes Ross' shoulder as he tries to get the other man's attention, Ross' eyes snap into focus, boring into Smith's with his pupils blown wide and breathing ragged.

"Ross mate you look like you've-" Smith winces as he is shoved against the wall, head hitting against the plasterboard heavily. He's caught with his eyes squeezed closed and his mouth wide open, reaching a hand up to the back of his head when his space is invaded by Ross, hands either side of Smith's head and lips, wide open against Smith's. Ross' body presses against Smith's- traps him- and Smith's hand settles to rest on the back of the slightly shorter man's neck, the other hand pressed against the damp skin of Ross' hip where his towel has slipped down.

Ross' breath is still ragged against Smith's top lip, and he winces at the auburn haired man's stubble stabbing into his chin. He doesn't say anything though, scared to ruin the moment. Smith's leg is in between Ross' bare ones, and he doesn't try to escape even as Ross pulls back from the kiss.