The Adventures of BFF!Bill and tiger

Part 1

Your mind was made up the minute his eyes flicked back up to yours. It was impossible not to be attracted to him, but you had always put aside that attraction in favour of befriending him. But now you were pent up, you were frustrated, and he was just sohandsome and so kind and knew you so well. What's the worst that could happen? You wouldn't be the first pair of best friends that had ever slept together, and you were tired of the idiots that had occupied your bed lately. Bill was a great guy, you were so comfortable with him, and you trusted him completely.

Abandoning any ounce of self restraint you had left, you swung a leg over and straddled his lap. His hands grabbed your hips, stilling you, and keeping you at a distance.

"Easy there tiger," his breath hitched, "we need a few ground rules first."

"Rules?" You hadn't meant for it to come out as an almost whimper.

"Mmmmm," he chuckled. He ran his nose down the bridge of yours and you sucked in a breath. He kept his face close.

"Rule number one: if at any time—and I mean any time–you want to stop, you say so. Deal?"

"Deal," you agreed, staring at his mouth. A long finger came up under your chin.

"Hey, eyes," he said, tapping your chin up, "deal?"

Green eyes stared into yours, and this time you maintained the eye contact.

"Deal." You were rewarded with a soft kiss that was closer to your mouth than the usual peck he laid your cheek. He let his lips linger before pulling back.

"Rule number two: We don't let things get weird between us. You mean too much to me, and this is just sex. You deserve good sex, I'm good at sex, and I want to help you. Deal?"

"Ye—" you stopped, remembering to look back up into his eyes before he could ask you to, "Yes. Deal. Please Bill, can we just—" Your heart was quickening now, and the warm puffs of breath on your face and how close his plush, soft-looking lips were did nothing to help you. You couldn't stop your hips from trying to grind down on his lap, seeking friction. Large hands gripped your sides harder, rougher, in warning.

"Last rule," he said, his voice like gravel and much lower now, "no moaning unless you mean it. Deal?"

"Dea—wait, what?" You didn't dare pull back, but your brow furrowed in confusion. With a slight smile, another slender finger came up to smooth the crease above your nose you always got when you were confused. He laid a gentle kiss on it.

"No moaning unless you mean it. No faking your pleasure. I've heard your stories, and I know you. You can't fool me. So if something isn't working, tell me and I'll change it. But don't you dare fake anything with me. Deal?"

Your hands gripped his shoulders and your forehead came to rest on his. "Deal. Fuck. Deal. Deal deal deal. Now please just do something," you whined.

Grabbing your chin gently, he peppered kisses along your jawline until his lips were at your ear. His other hand came to rest at your lower back, guiding your hips to finally press against his.

"You don't have to beg, sweetheart," he whispered, "I'm gonna make you feel so good."